#or another time where I accidentally cut myself in a risky place and immediately my brain was repeating calmly 'dont panic stay calm-

[egirl-vrissy]

I’m kind of a scared failgirl but if the situation called for me to bust it animal style I would in a moments notice as to outrun my crippling anxiety 

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Bad Batch x Jedi!Reader: Ghosts

(Author’s Note: I’m baaaacccck!  I’ve had a rough few weeks and found almost no inspiration or motivation to write here, but I woke up this morning and felt like a new person.  Thank you for waiting and for continuing to read, like, comment, and reblog!

Anyway, this was a request I received moons ago, and I just wanted to say to the Anon who requested that I did not forget about it and I’m so sorry for the wait.  For real, thank you for the request, and I hope you like it.

OG Request: Can I request a bad batch and reader who was their sister, they were also a Jedi. But then order 66 happens and the bad batch tries to kill her but she escaped after being shot by crosshair. She ends up working with the ghost crew and meets up with them during rebels, she's almost scared of them. She also tears up seeing how much older the are

Warnings: blaster wound, some angst, fluff ending)

   Got your back,” you growled, using your lightsaber to block some incoming shots. Hunter fired his blasters at the group of oncoming droids that headed toward you.

   Wrecker was plowing through the enemy squads like it was nothing, giving an enthusiastic yell here and there.  He paused to give you a thumbs-up with a gloved hand, and you grinned back.  Crosshair was picking them off from his position off the immediate battlefield. He blasted one right in front of you.

   “Nice shot!”

   Tech was handling things just fine on his side.  You moved past him to cut through a few droids nonetheless and exchanged nods of appreciation.

   Just another day with the Bad Batch, the rogue squad that had come to be your family over the course of the war.  You had adjusted to living life on the wild side- dangerous missions and poor odds.  The group managed to get through each one, and you grew stronger.

   This mission, to invade and destroy the Separatist base from the inside out, was a particularly risky one.  But like the others, this one was going rather well.

   Or it had been.  Until Tech alerted Hunter of an incoming comm that was rather urgent.

   You didn’t see who the transmission was from.  You caught a glimpse of the blue form displaying on Tech’s comm before having to deal with an oncoming droid.  You planted a thermal detonator and somersaulted away so it could blast the last of the droids, and you’d be ready to check in with your squad about the comm.

   As the battlefield went dead silent after the fall of the final droid, there was a shift.  That was the best way to describe the feeling.  Something just wasn’t right.  You glanced over to see Hunter and Tech standing perfectly still as they received the message.  That’s when it hit you.  Whatever it was, it was deadly, and you knew you needed to get your squad out of there.

   You turned fully toward them, lips parting in the beginnings of a warning about the shift in your feelings.  You could only hope they’d listen to you and get out in time without an argument.  Your voice was cut off at the sight of three visors facing you with blasters aimed your way.

   “Guys?” you called, eyes flickering to each of them.  “Hunter?  What’s going on?”

   Two more visors, Crosshair’s and Echo’s, joined them. Cross kept his rifle ready at his shoulder, aimed at you as well.  That’s when you realized they weren’t in danger.  They were the danger.

   “The jedi are traitors to the Republic,” Hunter’s voice echoed in the space between you.  “By order of Sidious, they are to be executed for their crimes, and that includes you.”

   “W-what?”  You grasped your lightsaber tightly, not wanting to raise it and alarm them further.  “I haven’t done anything.  We’ve been fighting for the Republic.  See those droids?”  You nodded in that direction.  “I cut them up myself with my lightsaber to protect the galaxy.  We did it together.”

   “Stop trying to reason with us,” Crosshair hissed.  “You’re...a...traitor.”  He hesitated, body quivering for a moment as his visor looked to the ground.  Whatever cloud of confusion had settled on him, it was like he tried to fight it.

   “It’s me,” you said.  “It’s __________.”

   Hunter’s body shook again before he aimed the blaster at you with resolve.  “You heard Sidious, boys.  Order 66 must be carried out.”

   Searing pain traveled through your shoulder as you made a run for it, causing you to stumble.  You spared a glance behind you to see the Bad Batch giving chase.  Crosshair had actually shot you.  A different kind of pain exploded in your chest at the betrayal.  Even though you knew this Sidious was behind it all.  Even though you knew it wasn’t the real Crosshair.  It still hurt.

   Despite the physical and emotional agony, you kept running.  You deflected more blaster shots with your lightsaber, using your abilities to leap into the nearest ship.  The presence of your closest allies began to fade as you took off, leaving to shoot at the vehicle to no avail.

   Fortunately, you and the squad handled dangerous missions on your own without too much Republic assistance, so you were able to get into space without encountering any other soldiers.  When things quieted down and you were faced with the blur of stars and planets outside the viewport, you shrank back in your seat from the weight of grief.  For the first time, you allowed yourself to grieve.  The life of a jedi was by no means easy, but you were trained for years to not give into such strong attachments to avoid the dark side’s pull.  

   This time, you let the tears fall for your squad.  You let the sob rip through the lonely ship.  It was a relief to cry, but not enough to dull the pain.  It was like a fresh wound, raw and stinging.

   “Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Tech…” you cried their names, demanding an answer from no one in particular.  Just then, a beep sounded amongst the ship controls that alerted you of an incoming message.  You sniffled and answered, eyes widening at the sight of Jedi Obi Wan Kenobi.

   “...I regret to inform you…”

- - - - - - - - - 

   “__________?  What are you doing?” Ezra called.  “We’ve got to go!” 

   You glanced his way from several feet away, holding up a hand as a signal for him to wait.  Something felt off about this place.  It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time.  A long time.

   “Is this a jedi thing?” he asked, walking over.  Despite being quite skilled and talented for one so young, he was still very early in his training with Kanan.  Nothing could quell his curiosity, though.

   You nodded.  “There’s something...someone...here.  I think I know them.”

  “It’s just an old ship,” he shrugged.  “It is a scrapyard, after all.”

   It was a good point.  The place looked rather abandoned to the naked eye, but you could see beyond appearances.  There was more to this ship than just a heap of metal.  Something felt oddly alive about it.

   “I’m going to check it out,” you said.

   “But Hera said-”

   “Ezra,” you interrupted with as patient of a tone as you could muster.  “I need to do this.  I’ll be right back.”  You took a few cautious steps forward only to hear him walking behind you.  You peeked at him over your shoulder to see a determined expression on his face.

   “If something really is going on, I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

   “Ugh, fine,”  You pretended to be annoyed, though deep down you were glad he was coming along.  Something stirred inside you.  You sensed a presence that you hadn’t in years.  Could it be…?  No, it couldn’t.

   “__________?” The all-too-familiar voice called.  A face popped out from the old ship.  Even among the wrinkles and white hair, you recognized a piercing set of brown eyes.  Your own eyes widened as your instincts took over, and you turned to bolt.  “No, wait!”

   “Stay back!” Ezra warned, hands raised to the figure that emerged from the ship quickly.  A much taller figure stepped out, and this fellow threw his head back and laughed.

   You froze in place, taking in the aged faces before you.  None of them held the same conflict in their gaze as they had the last time you were with them.  They held their hands up as a gesture that they carried no weapons.

   “_________, it’s alright,” Echo called.  “We mean you no harm.”

   “Please, don’t go.”  Hunter’s tone sounded so pleading; it made you want to cry.  You did not sense any evil intent on their part.  It was a good sign that they were no longer under Emperor Palpatine’s control.  Over the years, you discovered what exactly had happened to your squad.  Old Republic files you’d hacked revealed that something known as Order 66 had occurred, and you had pieced together the horrible plot to overthrow the jedi.  Like the others, you had to stay hidden- even from the Bad Batch.

   “How do I know this isn’t a trick?” you asked hesitantly.

   Tech took a step forward, and you gripped the handle of your lightsaber as a warning not to approach.  His eyes flickered to the weapon before he took a step back.  “After Order 66, the new Empire retired us.  I had quite a bit of free time, and while doing some research, I stumbled upon a report: it told me all about these biological chips.”

   “And we removed them!” Wrecker said.  He turned his head to the side, his pointer finger tapping on a scar on the bald skin.  By then, you started walking towards them.  You couldn’t believe how they had aged so much.  You were in front of Crosshair first, reaching a hand up to touch his weathered face.  He didn’t tense like he used to every time you accidentally brushed against him.  As a matter of fact, he even smiled a little.  Age had worn down his tough-guy act.

   “It’s...good to see you,” he said.

   Then, all at once, the tears started flowing.  It was like you picked up right where you left off all those years ago.  You threw your arms around him, and after a few moments of crying into his shoulder, you felt his arms come up to hold you comfortingly.  “Cross...I missed you so much!”

   “I missed you too.”

   “Hey,” Wrecker grunted.  “I missed you!  Don’t I get a hug?”

   You laughed through the tears and turned to give him a hug only to be lifted off the ground in a familiar, enveloping embrace- the kind only Wrecker could give.  He set you down laughing with you, and you pulled Echo and Tech into a little group hug.  They both smiled widely, Echo chuckling, as you pulled them tighter.  Then, you were faced with an aged Hunter who looked conflicted. You could feel his warmth and happiness to see you, but he also carried guilt.  You quickly wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged back.

   “__________,” he murmured.  “I’m...sorry-”

   “Not another word,” you interrupted.  “It wasn’t your fault.  None of you are to blame.”

   “But-”

   “Not another word,” you insisted, flashing him a smile.  He returned with a handsome grin that showed the old Hunter even through his aged appearance.  It brought more tears to your eyes.  “I’m so glad we all found our way back together.”

   “Um, __________?” Ezra spoke up.  He gave a shrug, confused about the interaction.

   “I’ll explain,” you told him.  “Bad Batch, this is my friend, Ezra.  Him and I are members of a crew that does what it can to mess with the Empire.”

   “Oh yeah?” Wrecker asked.  “As soon as our chips were removed, that’s what we started doing.”

   “Really?”

   “Indeed, we’ve made significant progress,” Tech said.

   “Well,” you sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder plate.  “What do you say we regroup and mess with the Empire together?”

   “I think…” Hunter stroked his chin in thought.  “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

[lavenderboneswrites]

Heart Over Ice

***please read the tags*** ***trigger warning***

Chapter 3 has been updated! Also available on AO3

Chapter Summary:  

Shizuo tries to take positive steps to move on with his life, which would be a hell of a lot easier if Izaya wasn't in it. Shizuo finds drinking plus Izaya leads to bad decisions and even worse consequences.

Tags: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Murder, Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Non-Consensual Drug Use, drug induced paralysis, Medical Procedures, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Discussion of Rape, Discussion of sexual assault, Discussion of Death, discussion of trauma, Triggers, discussion of triggers, Panic Attacks, explicit descriptions of panic attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, aka Shizuo typical violence, Protective Heiwajima Shizuo, Shizuo-centric, Binge Drinking, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson, minor original characters, Minor Character Death, Eventual Smut, eventual consensual smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Pre-Relationship, First Aid, Mentions of Yakuza, Drug Dealing, Thoughts of Self-harm, Self-Harm, Torture, Disassociation

Chapter 3 - Over Active

If Shinra didn’t have a fully stocked bar, Shizuo doesn’t know if he’d actually be here.

It had been a few days since the nightclub incident, and Shizuo is determined to put everything behind him. He starts by trying to take a little better care of himself. He’s forcing himself to eat, three meals a day, and he’s trying to cut back on the smokes.

Shizuo had also taken up jogging, thinking that maybe if he exhausts his body he’ll be too tired for insomnia and nightmares. There is something nice about the anonymity. In his exercise gear no one seems to notice him, the citizen’s blissfully unaware of the infamous monster of Ikebukuro running around the neighbourhood.

He still feels anxious, still sees Izaya being assaulted when he closes his eyes and hears those thoughts of self-harm … but he tries his best to ignore them. It’s not an easy feat. Though thankfully, there haven’t been any more of the really violent flashbacks like in the alley. Probably something to do with not being around Izaya. Leave it to the flea to be the one to set him off, he was aptly skilled in that department after all.

The running helps, but Shizuo finds his mind would wander too freely even though his body was occupied. So he got some headphones and signed up for Spotify, trying to replace any risky thoughts with music. He doesn’t really know much about music, and he follows Kasuka for guidance. Shizuo finds his tastes are varying and wide, from rap to obscure indie; he isn’t fussed and more importantly, it helps. He’s enjoying it.

This new self-care routine also dictates he reach out to his friends, which is why he found himself unable to refuse an invitation to dinner at Shinra and Celty’s.

They greeted him at the door cheerfully, Celty in a pink frilly apron over her black catsuit and Shinra already a drink deep if his glass was an indication.

The apartment was warm, with a delicious smell was wafting from the kitchen. Celty quickly left them to get back to preparing her feast, leaving Shizuo to cross the room and jump behind the bar.

“What are we drinking?”

It was just the three of them, which Shizuo was secretly thankful for … he didn’t think he could deal with huge crowds of people right now. Just the thought of anyone accidentally touching him had Shizuo wanting to scratch off his own skin.

Shinra sat down on one of the stools at the counter, answering lively. “Whiskey!”

The same kind the colour of Izaya’s-

Nope, don’t go there.

“Gross,” Shizuo shot at Shinra, who scrunched up his face in response.

“Then make me a drink, oh wise bartender-sama,” Shinra sniggered into his drink.

“Shut up.”

Shizuo pulled down various bottles from the shelf, lining them up on the benchtop. “My, my, looking to get lit, Shizuo-kun,” Shizuo shot a disparaging look at Shinra and his use of the word ‘lit’. Where did he come up with this shit? “We’ve got vodka, tequila, gin, Cointreau, and even white rum!” Shinra tapped each of the bottles on the lid as he named them.

“Some of these aren’t even opened, this bar is wasted on you shitty doctor,” Shizuo grumbled, looking for lemon juice and sugar syrup.

“What can I say, I’m the only one who can drink … do you expect me to clear out all these bottles by myself?”

“I think you’ll be flat on the floor from just one.”

“You’re soooooo meeeeaaaaaan~!” Shinra wailed dramatically.

“Lightweight.” Shizuo added with a grin. For the first time in a long time he actually felt not terrible. It was nice, seeing his friends, bantering with Shinra and getting drunk. This is what he needed.

“Where’s your ice?”

“Kitchen-, no,” Shinra held up a hand to stop Shizuo who had turned to head just there. “Don’t think I’ll let you go and steal my chance to have a moment alone with Celty!”

“Just get the ice you dumbass.”

Shinra giggled as he ran like an idiot to the kitchen, Shizuo rolling his eyes at the lovestruck fool.

“Lemon too!” Shizuo called out as an afterthought, but he doubted it was heard over Shinra’s squeal of ‘Ceeeellllltttttyyyyy~!’

Thankfully the door swung shut on the doctor’s wails of love.

Shizuo pulled out a silver cocktail shaker out from underneath the bar, setting up all his tools and ingredients in a line with two glasses on standby.

It shouldn’t take more than thirty seconds to get ice, yet Shinra had been gone at least a couple of minutes.

Yeah, Shizuo really didn’t want to know…

The kitchen door swung open, giggles and black smoke pouring out. Shizuo half wanted to roll his eyes and half couldn’t help but think Shinra and Celty were kind of cute.

I’ve lost my goddamn fucking mind.

Shinra basically fell out of the kitchen door, his cheeks rosy red, ice in one hand and a chopping board with lemon wedges in the other. “I will miss you every moment you are not in my presence my love~!”

Black smoke pushed him out the door, motion belaying Celty’s mortification at Shinra’s frankly embarrassing behaviour.

You horny fuckers.

Shizuo could only shake his head as Shinra skipped back to him and dumped the ice try on the counter.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Huh?” Shinra said aghast. “My love is beautiful and pure, Shizuo-kun!”

“Like I said … disgusting.”

Shinra chuckled as Shizuo split the ice between the glasses and cocktail shaker and started measuring out shots

“This drink actually has all five of these? Are you trying to kill me?”

Shizuo gave a mischievous grin, “step up your game, shitty doctor … I thought we were getting ‘lit’.”

“Ugh,” Shinra groaned. “Why are you in such a good mood anyway?”

Shizuo shrugged, pouring shots over ice. Maybe it was the self-care, or maybe just good food and good people. Whatever it was he would take it, if only for tonight.

“Hmm,” Shinra had a shrewd look on his face, like he was suspicious. “Celty’s theories on alien imposters might not be far off…”

“Piss off.”

Shizuo finished adding the various liquids into the cocktail shaker, before capping the lid over the top and picking it up.

“It’s a shame you know,” Shinra said as Shizuo started to shake the cylinder over his shoulder, “you’re really good at this, you should try and get another bartending job.”

Shizuo snorted, careful not to lose his cool and send the cocktail shaker into the mirrored shelves behind him. “What? So I can get fired from that too? Anyway, I have a job.”

A perfectly fine one, thank you very much … and if Shizuo didn’t bring up why he got fired from those other jobs, well, whatever.

“But this suits you, you seem…” Shinra trailed off, like he couldn’t quite think of the word to describe Shizuo. “Content?”

Another half shrug, Shizuo placing the shaker back on the bar and hitting the sides of the metal lightly. Very lightly. He’d exploded his fair share of these shakers when he had first been learning to tend bar. The ice caused the container to get cold and expand, making the lid stick; the tapping helped pull it off easier.

“You have a lot of control when like this!” Shinra sounded fascinated as Shizuo grabbed the strainer. He didn’t really think about it to be honest, but he could see where Shinra was coming from. Personally, Shizuo thought Shinra would be equally fascinated if he were to crush the entire bar instead.

Shinra gave an over the top ‘oooh’ when Shizuo flipped the strainer one handed, doing a spinning trick with it between his fingers before placing it over the rim of a glass. Heh, he’d have to show Shinra some more tricks later, maybe when Celty was around to watch.

“Maybe you should be the one to take up the knives! You’re plenty dexterous.”

Shizuo made a face at that, somewhere between revulsion and disgust “don’t be gross Shinra.”

The doctor just sniggered in reply.

Shizuo split his creation into two glasses filled with ice. For final touches he topped the drinks with cola and a lemon wedge each. “Here you go, one long island iced tea.”

Shinra took the drink Shizuo slid across the bar, looking down at the black-brown concoction. “You really are trying to kill me.”

“Hah!” Shizuo laughed, pulling his own drink to his lips and inhaling the scent. “Weak.”

“Not all of us have a superhuman tolerance! Why would you even choose to make this?” Shinra sounded plenty aghast yet he still drank all the same.

“Alcohol tastes like shit…” Shizuo said as if that explained anything.

“So you make this five shots abomination!?”

“Doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“That’s what makes it so dangerous! Jeez Shizuo-kun, you’re such a sadist.”

Shizuo only smirked over the rim of his glass. Taking a sip, he gave a noise of satisfaction at the way the drink flooded his mouth and rushed down his throat.

It was smooth as hell.

“Still got it,” Shizuo said more to himself than Shinra. To which the doctor only groaned in reply.

“Izaya’s right, you are arrogant.”

Shizuo immediately felt his pleasant mood snap.

Izaya kicking him, threatening him. Izaya’s dead eyes. Izaya’s jerking head. A dark stain on denim.

“I’m warning you Shinra … don’t fucking bring him up.”

Shinra sighed, “you guys really need to come to some sort of truce, I’m getting tired of the constant fighting.”

Shinra was tired? Well Shizuo was fucking exhausted.

“Fuck off Shinra … never gonna happened.”

Shinra didn’t answer, just took small sips of his drink, looking thoughtful.

“By the way, how are you doing with all that?”

“With all what?” Shizuo snapped, his gut clenched uncomfortably.

Shinra gave him a deadpan look, as if he knew Shizuo was being purposely dense. “I just meant … it was pretty traumatic.”

Shizuo slammed his glass down with more force than necessary. “I'm not-”

-Not what? Not traumatised?  

“I mean … just-just shut up Shinra.”

Shinra looked at Shizuo calmly, only the slight raising of his brow to show he clearly thought differently. It was the same kind of patronising look Shizuo saw on the flea. The doctor obviously had a death wish or something, because he was silent for only a moment before he opened his big fat mouth again.

“Izaya is acting like he’s not affected, but I think he was really shaken by it all.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”

Oh shit, fuck, now Shizuo was the one who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“We had a run in, he was…” Shizuo tried to think of a sufficient way to describe the flea’s almost manic behaviour. Though compared to Shizuo’s own, it was probably a lot less pathetic. “He was pissed.”

Pissed was putting it lightly, raging lunatic more like it. Which was ironic as hell considering Shizuo’s own anger issues.

Shizuo himself was still furious at the fact the little bastard had kicked him and then almost gouged out his eyes.

Fucking psycho.

Shinra made an exasperated sound, “he won’t talk to me at all! He keeps leaving me on read … why, oh why did I choose the two most difficult people in the country to be my friends?”

“Sounds like a blessing in disguise to me … you should take this as an opportunity to ditch him once and for all.”

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra admonished, though he sounded a little entertained. “No! Stop changing the subject! How are you? Are you eating well? Sleeping enough?”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Celty would want me to ask these questions about my friends!”

“Ah, so you’re doing her dirty work.”

Shinra made an ‘oh shit’ face. Of course Celty had sent Shinra to do some digging, seeing how Shizuo had been purposely avoiding her. It was only right she was worried.

Shizuo took a longer sip of his drink, finishing the entire last half in one gulp. Really, he was just buying time.

“You can tell her, yes, I’m eating. Three meals a day and all.”

“And what about your mood? Have you got a good sleep pattern going?”

“You’re about to fucking see my mood, Shi-n-ra!”

Shizuo and Shinra managed to get one more drink in before dinner; yuzu hachimitsu sour, weak. After all, he didn’t want to actually kill Shinra, not really. They moved to the dining table, a veritable feast laid out on the table. Shizuo tried to ignore the way his mind went to memories of Izaya laid out on his own table.

“Wow Celty, this looks amazing.”

It was like a huge order at an Izakaya, with lots of individual dishes. Shizuo could spot edamame, karaage, yakitori, and takoyaki … just to name a few.

Shinra was hanging off the Dullahan, singing her praises. “My Celty is a MasterChef~!”

“Mm, more like Iron Chef!” Shizuo added, feeling pleasantly buzzed two drinks deep.

Celt’s smoke merely puffed in that flustered way of hers. [Stop it, both of you!]

Shinra and Shizuo only laughed, Shinra exclaiming how cute she was when embarrassed.

It was only when they were all taking a seat at the table, about to dig in, that there was a knock on the door.

“Hm, who could that be?” Shinra asked, standing up as Shizuo’s brows furrowed.

Apparently, no one good.

Shinra was only gone for a few minutes before he returned, “look who I found!”

Celty’s black smoke exploded, almost like one giant explanation point. Shizuo on the other snapped the flimsy wooden chopsticks in his hand clean in half.

Standing in the door, in all his shitty glory, was the fucking flea.

“I told you Shinra I’m not staying-,”

“-Nonsense!” Shinra flapped his hands, as if waving Izaya’s protests off. “There’s plenty for all of us, and you could do with a good meal, you’re skin and bones!”

“What are you, my mother?”

Shizuo growled as Shinra let out a high pitched laugh, no doubt remembering Shizuo exact same expression from earlier.

“What’s so funny?” Izaya snapped, looking far from pleased with the situation. His eyes caught Shizuo’s, narrowing in a look nothing short of hatred.

Next time, come at me like you want to kill me.

Shizuo’s hand gripped the underside of the table. Shadows were immediately tugging at him gently, and Shizuo realised he had stood without thinking.

Shizuo growled, slumping back down into his seat. It had been established long ago that Shinra and Celty’s apartment was a neutral zone, Switzerland if you will. Though it was less a decision on Shizuo’s part and more the fact Shinra and Celty were sick of having their furniture thrown through their walls after missing a certain slippery bastard.

Hell, Shizuo was going to need a hundred more drinks before he even thought of letting the flea have dinner with them.

At least this time he wasn’t threatening to cut out Shizuo’s eyes. Or drugged.

He still looks like he’d try and skewer me given the chance.

“No way Shinra … get rid of him.”

“Yes please Shinra, ‘get rid of me’,” Izaya parroted back, raising his fingers to do mocking air quotations. “You know I think I might actually stay now.”

Izaya sat down in the chair opposite Shizuo with an infuriating smirk. “Watching a beast eat in its natural habitat, a video of that is bound to fetch a high price.”

“Izaya,” Shinra warned as Shizuo threw his broken chopsticks across the table at the flea. The bastard merely leaned to the left and avoided them with a gleeful little laugh.

[Please don’t throw things]

“Sorry Celty,” and now Shizuo felt guilty.

[Don’t be sorry, I don’t want him here either!]

“Why do I get the feeling Courier-san is not writing anything too kind about me, ne?”

Celty pulled her PDA close to her chest, like she was afraid Izaya would try and take the device from her and read it.

“Because no one likes you, shithead.”

“I do.”

“Shut up Shinra.”

“Yeah, shut up Shinra,” Izaya mocked, once again copying Shizuo.

“Can you not be annoying for more than five minutes?”

“That depends, can you not be a beast for more than five minutes?”

“Argh!” Shizuo wanted to flip the table but then all Celty’s hard work would go to waste.

“How fascinating, the language of Neanderthals…”

“Give it a rest, both of you!” Shinra’s words did not match the amusement in his voice or the way he was trying to stifle his laughter. “You’re ruining my Celty’s wonderful dinner!”

[Ah Shinra- it’s fine]

“I want a drink-“

“-Oi!” Shizuo yelled as the flea reached out and snatched away his drink. “Get your own, you damn parasite.”

Izaya took a sip and made thoughtful face, “this is good … a little sweet for my taste but the sour really cuts through it. I’m amazed someone without a head is such a capable chef, well done Courier-san.”

[Oh…]

Shinra burst out laughing, collapsing to the floor in hysterics.

“What?” Izaya snapped, glaring at Shinra who was struggling to pull himself back up through his laughter.  

“Oi, oi, oi...” Shizuo could feel a vein throbbing in his temple.

Shinra wheezed as his head popped up, tears of laughter visible in his eyes. “Celty didn’t make that.”

Izaya looked down once at the drink in his hand, then once to Shinra, who had collapsed again in a fit of giggles, and then to Shizuo.

Shizuo watched as the flea’s eyes widened in realization and something akin to horror, before narrowing in distaste, “…gross.”

“Fuck you, you just said it was good.”

Shinra was howling.

“I lied, it’s called being a good guest … you should try it, Shizu-chan.”

“Bullshit!”

Izaya answered with a smirk, taking another long sip of Shizuo’s drink and then spitting it all back out.

“What the fuck flea!?”

“Want your drink back now?”

[Are you children!?]

“You couldn’t pay me to drink your dirty flea backwash.”

“You couldn’t afford my backwash.”

[How is this conversation happening?! Shinra, do something…]

Shinra was however too busy cackling on the floor, as if this was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.  

[Shinra!!!!!!!!]

*

Dinner had been nothing short of hairy. Shizuo barely managed not to leap over the table and throttle the flea. Shinra was wasted, though he finally managed to pull himself back into his chair after much amusement at Shizuo’s and Izaya’s expense. Celty just raised her arms to where her head should be, as if holding it in her hands and crying.

The food was amazing. Though Izaya found ways to sneak in those backhanded little comments every now and again. He would also contradict Shizuo at every turn. If Shizuo would say he really liked a sauce or the karaage, Izaya would say he wasn’t a fan and make some slight criticism of it.

‘It’s too salty’, or ‘I’ve had better’.

Though every time he did Shinra would vehemently defend Celty’s cooking and admonish Izaya’s manners or lack their off.

Now that had been satisfying. Especially the way Izaya’s nose would scrunch up in that annoyed way of his, like he almost felt betrayed by Shinra.

That was until Shinra told Shizuo to stop antagonising Izaya. Like, what the fuck? Shizuo was doing no such thing. It was all the flea! He had said as much anyway.

After dinner, which Shizuo was honestly surprised hadn’t turned into a full on food fight (which had happened many times before), they had moved back into the living room, Celty suggesting drinks and desert.

Though Shizuo had imagined she had tea or coffee in mind and not more alcohol.

“I want a desert cocktail Shizuo-kun~!”

“Mm,” Shizuo agreed as he and Shinra headed to the bar.

[No! No more alcohol!]

“Let’s put on some music.”

“Yes! Impromptu dance party!”

[Shinra you’re drunk!]

“I don’t think they’re paying attention Courier-san.”

Celty slumped into an armchair, apparently giving up all hope of calling any of them to heel.

Shizuo once again slid behind the bar while Shinra scrolled through his phone. “Any requests?”

“Rock.”

“Pop.”

Shizuo and Izaya spoke at exactly the same time, then proceeded to glare daggers at the other. Shizuo quickly opened his mouth again but it seemed Izaya had a similar idea.

“Rap.”

“Punk.”

Son of a bitch was just doing it on purpose now.

“I wanna listen to WAP!”

“Shinra no.”

“Shinra yes.”

Shizuo couldn’t help himself, if Izaya said pop Shizuo said rock, if he said punk than Shizuo said rap, and if Izaya said no then he had to say yes.

Maybe Shinra had a point and they were both as bad as each other?

No way. Shizuo might have his flaws, huge gaping ones, but compared to the flea he was miles ahead.

He is the worst.

Izaya looked extremely affronted at the music starting playing out of the small portable speaker next to the tv. Shizuo merely grinned, feeling victorious as he mixed together something sweet and smokey.

“Yeah, you fucken with some wet ass puss-,” Shinra made a muffled noise of protest as Izaya clasped a palm over his mouth to stifle his singing.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” he said deadpan.

“What the hell carl!” Shinra yelled back. Shizuo frankly had no idea what language they were talking anymore. It must be some weird flea-Shinra code only discernible to their ears.

“You’re going to scar your girlfriend for life, and me,” Izaya said as he and Shinra wrestled over control of the music. “What is this, YouTube? Shinra you heathen, where is your Spotify?”

Shinra replied by wrapping his arms around Izaya’s neck and hanging off him like some sort of tree monkey. “I don’t have it” Shinra sobbed.

“Yes you do it’s right here … wait,” Izaya snapped a wicked smirk onto Shizuo, “you’re following this neanderthal?”

Shizuo huffed, topping off two golden yellow drinks with a cinnamon stick each. “Shizuo-kun has really good taste Izaya … here I like this playlist.”

“Hmm,” Izaya hummed thoughtfully, scrolling through the list as if he was searching through dirty laundry. Just what secrets did he think a fucking playlist held for fuck sakes.

“Oi, Shinra.”

The doctor was quick to drop his attentions of Izaya and bound over like an excited puppy. “Oooh it looks so cool Shizuo-kun!”

“Ha, wait for it,” Shizuo pulled out his lighter, Shinra letting out more sounds of awe as he lit the ends of the two cinnamon sticks. They caught fire quickly, before simmering down to a small smoky ember. “My twist on an old fashioned.”

Shinra clapped happily, meanwhile Shizuo could see Izaya glaring from over the doctor’s shoulder. Bitter fucken flea.

“It’s goooooooodd! What is that? Maple?”

“Yeah.”

“Ooh I’m getting hints of citrus too!”

“That’s the orange peel.”

“Celty, you’ve got to try this!” Shinra ran over to his girlfriend with his drink outstretched, seemingly forgetting she couldn’t taste without a head.

Shizuo took a satisfying sip of his own drink, the end of the cinnamon stick still smoking lazily. His eyes met Izaya’s over the rim of his glass, the flea looking down his nose at him with that same scrunched up look again. With a sigh he selected a song, throwing Shinra’s phone to the couch before making his way over.

Shizuo stilled his breath, body tense as if awaiting an attack. It would be just like Izaya to try and kill him to some jaunty pop tune.

“I want a drink.”

“Haaah?” Shizuo would say he was appalled at Izaya’s lack of manners if he hadn’t know the bastard for nearly a decade. The flea sat down in front of him, looking up at him with an expectant smirk. “I’m not wasting a good drink on your dirty backwash.”

Izaya rolled his eyes. “Something bitter.”

“Like you need it.”

“So quick-witted, don’t hurt yourself, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo was half tempted to pull the cinnamon stick out of his drink and shove it up Izaya’s nose. “Fine, you want a drink … I’ll making you a fucking drink.”

Izaya only looked entertained as Shizuo started grabbing bottles with a rough fury.

“Celty let’s dance!”

“Ugh, they’re so precious it makes me want to vomit,” Izaya mocked as Shinra started trying to twirl Celty around the room, much to Celty’s protests.

“I think they’re cute,” Shizuo snapped, unable to not contradict Izaya.

“That’s disgusting Shizu-chan,” Izaya looked like he was one step away from trying to wash Shizuo’s mouth out with soap. “I shudder to even think about what you consider romantic.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

“There’s some new gorilla’s at the zoo, maybe you could attract one with your beastly wiles.”

“You really never fucking shut up.”

Though Shizuo could vividly remember a time when Izaya had been silent. Unmoving.

Don’t.

Izaya put a finger to his lips, but the action was ruined by the way his mouth turned up at the corners, as if he wasn’t even trying all that hard not to laugh. Shizuo took in the way his eyes danced with playful amusement. It was a good look on him, much better than-

-don’t think about.

“Of course you’d pick this trash song, matches your shitty personality.”

“Oh?” Izaya leant back on stool, balancing on two legs before falling back to four. “Isn’t this your playlist Shizu-chan?”

“I’m deleting it,” Izaya just had to go and get his flea stench all over a goddamn song of all things. Shizuo would never be able to listen to it again without thinking of him and that was just too gross to think about.

Izaya let out a peal of laughter, similar to the way he had laughed at Shizuo in that alley. “Your single cell brain works in such mysterious ways, it almost makes me sick … but here’s hoping I can ruin this playlist, nay, music entirely, for you.”

Shizuo had half a mind to spit in the bastards drink and then force it down his throat … but annoyingly enough he was pretty proud of this creation. “There,” Shizuo slammed the almost black drink down in front of Izaya. “The Flea.”

“Should I feel honoured? To have my own genuine beast of Ikebukuro creation.”

“I hope you choke.”

Shizuo found himself staring as the flea smirked over the rim of the martini glass. Amaro Arvena, an Italian liqueur, bitter and black, infused with herbs and with a slightly red tinge to it. It matched Izaya perfectly, brought out the crimson in those mischievous eyes. Shizuo watched, captivated, at the flash of pink as Izaya’s tongue poked out of his mouth just before he took a short sip.

Shizuo felt like his body was starting to warm, like pleasant fire burning low in his gut. He couldn’t help it, the way he watched Izaya like he was almost prey, eyes drawing to the pale expanse of his throat when he swallowed. The flea’s eyes were hooded and the way he licked his lips was downright sinful.

“Mmmm,” Izaya made a sound of approval, “not too bad, Shizu-chan.”

Fucking hell.

“You’re a goddamn pest,” Shizuo spoke into his drink. He was way too sober for this.

Izaya gave a shrug, a sly look on his face as he downed the entire glass in one go.

“Oi, you’re not supposed to skull it.”

“I’m catching up, you and Shinra had a head start after all,” Izaya placed the glass back down and slid it back over to Shizuo. “I’ll have an expresso martini next.”

“You’ll get whatever scraps I feel generous enough to give you, louse,” Shizuo growled, ideas for his next creation already coming to mind.

“Your customer service could do with some work.”

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra arrived in a flourish, slamming down in the stool next to Izaya so violently that the flea was almost pushed off his own. “I need another drink!”

“Both of you are demanding fucks.”

Izaya gave Shinra a playful shove back, laughing as the doctor’s arma windmilled before grabbing the bar before him. Shizuo felt slightly winded at the carefree look on Izaya’s face. He doesn’t think he had ever heard him laugh like that before. Completely at-ease and genuine, with not a hint of deception.

Shizuo could watch him laugh like that forever.

Wait.

“Here,” Shizuo slammed a bottle of tequila and a shot glass down in front of Izaya. “Catch up.”

Izaya answered Shizuo’s challenging grin with one of his own.

“Shots, shots, sh-shots, shots!” Shinra started singing.

“You will actually die shitty doctor,” Shizuo snapped a warning, but he was ignored in favour of Shinra trying to follow the glass with his lips, as if he could get a sip in before Izaya. It was surprising, Shinra was so handsy with the flea, and the flea actually allowed it … Shizuo thought maybe with everything that had happened maybe the flea wouldn’t like being touched so casually, Shizuo knows he wouldn’t, and yet the flea doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.

It was kind of infuriating, that Shizuo was so messed up and Izaya wasn’t.

Fucking shitty flea.

Izaya held a hand on Shinra’s face and pushed him away, quickly downing the shot before he could steal it.

Shizuo was once again caught himself staring at the flea’s throat.

“Dammit Shinra, go paw at monster girlfriend,” Izaya said batting the doctor’s hands away.

“She went to bed,” Shinra lamented, an ugly pout on his face. “You two have to entertain me.”

“Shizu-chan could try juggling furniture for you, if you want,” Izaya said with a condescending smirk.

Feeling a little buzzed, Shizuo met the flea’s smirk with a cocky grin of his own.

Careful not to shoot anything through the ceiling, Shizuo swung the bottle of Midori backwards. It flipped up and over his shoulder, and Shizuo raised an elbow to meet it as it came back down. With a flick of his arm the base of the bottle bounced off and spun once again, before he snatched it from the air with his other hand.

“Woo, go Shizuo!” Shinra clapped as Shizuo flipped the bottle in his hand and went straight to the pour.

The flea had a sour look on his face, like he was trying with every part of his being to not be impressed, because that would be too disgusting to even contemplate for someone like Izaya.. “It’s like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.”

“C’mon Izaya, even you have to admit that was pretty good.”

“Yeah Izaya,” Shizuo mocked with his best flea imitation.

“What exactly is this? It looks toxic,” Izaya picked up his new drink, raising it to eye level as if to inspect the contents.

“It’s green!” Shinra shouted, sounding thoroughly amazed at the lime colour.

Shizuo ignored the two idiots, taking a sip of his own drink. A burst of sour apple exploded on his tongue, zingy and tingling.

“Wow this is so good!”

“It taste like pure sugar,” Izaya complained.

“It’s like a dance party in my mouth,” Shinra added, slurping at his drink happily. Shizuo had to agree with the doctor, Izaya was just an ungrateful bastard.

“Too much for you flea?” Shizuo laughed. “Maybe you should slow down if you can’t handle it.”

Izaya’s withering stare turned into wicked grin that made Shizuo’s blood sing. He answered by knocking the entire drink back in one go. “Who can’t handle what, Shizu-chan?”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Shizuo answered by downing his own drink.

“W-wait for me!”

“Shinra no!”

“Shinra yes!”

Shinra, in his eagerness to catch up, ended up choking which had Izaya laughing in that same laid-back way as before.

“Y-you,” Shinra choked out, “you guys are going to kill me.”

Izaya only held one arm around his waist as he laughed harder.

Cutecutecutecutecute.

“Oh there’s a cherry in here!”

Just a little surprise at the bottom of the glass. Shizuo had unfortunately swallowed his whole when he downed his drink earlier.  

Izaya took a look down into his glass, as if surprised to see his own cherry there too. “Heh.”

Izaya looked back up and Shizuo was pinned with eyes full of mischief.

Ohshit.

“Wanna see a trick, Shinra?”

“Ooh yes!”

“Watch this.”

Shizuo knew he would never be fucking prepared enough as Izaya gripped the cherry by the stem and lifted it to his mouth. He was facing Shinra on the barstool, but he kept his eyes locked on Shizuo.

Whose mouth was feeling incredibly dry.

Izaya lifted the cherry above his mouth, opening wide as he dropped the fruit in. Shizuo was hypnotised, and he couldn’t think past anything but mouth, lips, teeth, and tongue.

The louse gave a crooked closed-mouth smirk as he chewed, eyes closing in concentration and Shizuo followed the way he moved the cherry around in his mouth unblinking.

Shizuo couldn’t stop staring.

“Aaah.”

“Whoa!”

Shizuo almost passed out right then and there.

Izaya had swallowed visibly and then opened his mouth, a cherry stem tied into a perfect knot resting on his stuck out tongue. Shinra spoke up, his voice childlike and wonderous, nowhere near the level of depravity of Shizuo’s thoughts.

“Wow! You’re really good with your tongue, Izaya.”

The glass in his hands shattered, shards exploding outwards and showering over them all.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkk.

Shinra jumped and fell off his chair, while Izaya absolutely howled with laughter. Shizuo could feel his cheeks heating up and he made sure to look anywhere but the flea. His hands reached for the broken glass, as if he could sweep this whole thing up along with the pieces.

“Ooowwweeeeelllllttttyyyyy~!”

Shinra’s groan of pain turned to delight at the appearance of the Dullahan. She was in pink pyjamas and cute fluffy bunny slippers. Celty fingers were flying as she typed on her PDA, holding it out for Shizuo, [What happened? Are you okay?]

“It’s fine, do you have a dustpan?”

Izaya cackled even harder and Shizuo answered by shoving him off his barstool. The flea landed next to Shinra, and they both took one look at each other before cracking up again.

Shitty, crappy, annoying, dam, flea.

Celty quickly helped Shizuo clean up the broken glass, both of them flat out ignoring the pair of drunkards rolling around on the floor.

“Sorry.”

Shizuo didn’t know if he was apologising for the broken glass or just the entire night in general. He might have gotten a little carried away, which he firmly blamed on Shinra’s bad influence. Also, Izaya’s shitty presence hadn’t exactly helped matters.

[It’s fine.]

[I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.]

Shizuo scrunched up his face. He didn’t know if would go as far as to say that … but the night hadn’t been a total letdown. It was hard to beat himself up too much about losing control when the alcohol had left him feeling warm and content.

Not to mention the heated look in the flea’s eyes.

Dammit, damn him. That shitty fucking flea was just too good at getting under Shizuo’s skin. Probably thought he had gotten away with the joke of the century on Shizuo. Shit, he had.

Whatever, Celty was an actual saint to put up with them all … especially Shinra, the lout.

“Celty my love~!” Shinra reached out with grabby hands as the Dullahan pulled him up and dumped him over his shoulder.

[Bed time.] Celty showed on her PDA, Shizuo merely raised his eyebrows in reply as the Dullahan turned and left.

“Kinky,” Izaya spoke over his shoulder.

“Ah!” Shizuo jumped, “don’t just pop up like that!”

Izaya snickered, moving back to the bar. He pulled himself up to sit on the benchtop, hands placed on either side of him so he could lean back suggestively. “Shinra is so getting pegged.”

Shizuo just groaned, rubbing between his eyes as if he could erase the images from his mind. He couldn’t help but notice the playlist had shuffled to a particularly sensual sounding song.

And now the flea has ruined The Weekend for me too…

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh? You didn’t seem to think that before, far from it actually,” Shizuo looked over at the flea. Was he crazy or were his eyes screaming out ‘come here’?

Was the flea a mind reader? Could he tell Shizuo was thinking exactly about the way he could slot himself perfectly between parted legs with the pest sitting like that?

“F-,” Shizuo quickly cut himself off, no, don’t say fuck.

Izaya knew exactly what he’d been planning to say, if the devilish grin on his lips was anything to go by. The flea reached a hand for a small pot on the counter, whole body curving with the motion as he pulled out another maraschino cherry.

He’s a demon.

Shizuo quickly turned away, not wanting to watch Izaya put that damn thing in his mouth. Not seeing turning out to be even worse though, because now Shizuo was imagining all sorts of things.

Like taking that damn cherry out of the flea’s mouth with his own tongue.

Fuckingfuckfuuuuccck.

Shizuo was either too drunk or not drunk enough for the flea’s mind games. Either way, he was going not going to stick around to find out … and he definitely wasn’t going to fall for such a dirty trick just to have the louse laugh in his face.

“Im’ma bail,” Shizuo gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder. “Stay out of ‘bukuro, flea.”

Shizuo had only just made it to the door when he was attacked.

Izaya grabbed him, swinging him around and slamming him up against the wooden frame. “Fl-,” Shizuo didn’t even get the words out, didn’t even get a chance to discern the flea’s expression before Izaya’s mouth was descending upon his.

Shizuo’s head was dizzy from the sudden movement, body struck dumb as Izaya twisted fingers into his hair.

What was happening? What the FUCK was happening!? Izaya was kissing him. Izaya was fucking kissing him. Shizuo. Shizuo who Izaya hated. Shizuo was being kissed by Izaya. The flea. What the actual fuck!?

Shizuo’s hands came up to Izaya’s shoulders, ready to push him away, “W-.”

He doesn’t even get the words out. Izaya taking advantage of his open mouth to shove his tongue inside.

He tastes like cherries.

All thoughts of confusion and protest vanish as instinct kicks in, and Shizuo can’t help the growl he lets out into the flea’s mouth. His arm moves down to Izaya’s waist, pulling him in flush against his body. The louse lets out an eager moan and he licks into Shizuo’s mouth in such a filthy way it makes Shizuo’s head spin. Shizuo grabs the back of his head, forcing him to turn so he can kiss back even deeper.

If Shizuo’s body had been hot before it was practically on fire now. Like his blood had turned to molten lava, coming to a boil in his gut before an eruption. Holding onto Izaya right now was like trying to hold onto a wild animal. He pulled Shizuo in by the collar of his shirt, and at the same pressed in even closer if that was possible, rubbing his body up against Shizuo’s with untamed fervour.

Shizuo groaned at the way Izaya’s hips slotted against his, the way their groins rubbed together. He moved a hand to Izaya’s ass, desperate to pull that friction closer to him, gripping so hard he was sure there would be bruises in the shape his fingerprints left behind.

“Fuck,” Shizuo’s forced to break the kiss, forced to come up for air. Izaya dives down to his neck, leaving a trail of fire behind as he licks and sucks at Shizuo’s skin. Shizuo’s mouth is parted as he gasps for breath, hand kneading at the taut muscle of Izaya’s ass. God, his fucking ass, it was perfect.

Izaya’s hands move from his neck to his chest, clawing at his clothes. He moves downwards, coming to the collar of Shizuo’s shirt. Shizuo’s not even able to take a breath before Izaya is ripping his vest and shirt open, the buttons flying off in several directions.

You-  

Shizuo didn’t have a chance to even get angry at the cocky smirk on Izaya’s face before the flea was diving in to lick and kiss at his chest, his hands roaming their way downwards to the top of Shizuo’s pants. Every point of contact searing.

Fuck.

Shizuo’s mind was catching up to his dick, coming to terms with what was actually happening right now. When Izaya’s tongue licked over his nipple, Shizuo quickly raised a fist to his mouth and bit down.

He could hear Izaya’s satisfied chuckle against his skin, mouth biting and sucking on the hardening nub. He swirled his tongue around the tip, and Shizuo couldn’t help but groan as his dick jumped in his pants, his mind conjuring the image of the tip of that tongue circling the head of his cock.

Shizuo was completely floored, Izaya’s entire mouth should be deemed illegal. Hell, he should be fucking arrested for crimes against decency and just-just fuck, that fucking tongue.

Shizuo could only pant into the fist in his mouth, hearting racing as he looked down at the top of Izaya’s head as he traced Shizuo’s abs with his tongue, slowly making his way downwards.

“Oh fuck.”

Izaya was on his knees, tugging Shizuo’s pants open roughly.

This couldn’t be reality. They were standing in Shinra and Celty’s living room for fuck sakes, and the flea was on his fucking knees, looking like a man starving.

“Fuck, Izaya.”

“Heh, I quite like this side of you Shizu-chan,” how the hell could Izaya still sound so dam smug as he nuzzled Shizuo’s clothed cock. “You’re making really cute noises.”

Shizuo whimpered as Izaya mouthed his erection through his underwear.

Fucking hell.

“Oh? You’re getting quite wet here,” Izaya pressed his fingers against a wet patch above the head of Shizuo’s dick.

“Fuck, Izaya!”

Izaya closed his eyes, as if savouring the pleading way Shizuo had said his name. “I could almost come hearing you sound like this.”

Illegal. That mouth should be illegal. The absolute filth that spewed from it. Shizuo felt his cock twitch, and if Izaya’s self-satisfied smirk was anything to go by, so had he.

I could almost come at the sight of you on your knees flea.

Shizuo’s hips jerked a little as Izaya pulled his underwear down, exposing his hard cock to the air.

“Easy beast,” Shizuo could feel Izaya’s breath brush over his cock, as the flea braced a forearm across Shizuo’s navel.

How the hell could Izaya make that stupid nickname sound so dam sexy? He said it like he was hungry, no, ravenous.

I wanna touch you too.

With a trembling hand, Shizuo ran fingers through black silky locks. Izaya was staring up at him with those hooded eyes from earlier, black-red amaro liqueur overtaking brown whiskey, just like the cocktail he had made him. Dark and bitter and hot.

He is stunning.

Without breaking eye contact, Izaya brushed his lips against the head of Shizuo’s cock in a chaste kiss.

Shizuo almost came right then and there.

“Fuck!”

Izaya laughed, the fucking tease. “That’s the idea, ne?”

And then Izaya swallowed his cock down almost down to the root, and Shizuo buckled at the waist, barely keeping on his feet. The moist heat that enveloped him was enough to drive him crazy, enough for him to want to grab Izaya by the head and fuck into that wet mouth with a ferocity only befitting a beast.

Izaya hummed, the noise a vibration against his cock. Shizuo’s hand was fisted in his hair, twisting so harshly it had to be painful, but the flea just looked back up at him with those eyes like dark Italian liqueur.  

“Y-you look so fucking good right now flea, with my cock in your mouth.” Shizuo’s is surprised the words come out, his voice low and filthy.

Izaya moans at that, palming his at his own cock over his pants at Shizuo’s words. Shizuo can’t help the way his hips buck at the sight, but Izaya’s arm holds him down.

Slick velvet heat moves up his shaft, Izaya tonguing at the slit before releasing Shizuo’s cock with a harsh suck to the head. “If you can still talk I must be doing something wrong.”

Shizuo brain was meanwhile leaking out of his ears from Izaya’s rough treatment. Izaya shoots him a wicked grin, a devilish turn of his lips that promises sweet, hot things to come.

The flea dives back down, Shizuo’s mouth parted and panting, unable to stop the moans as Izaya’s head bobs up and down.

His head jerking.

Wait, no.

Lifeless eyes.

Stop.

Rutting, grunting. The revolting sound of pleasure as a dark stain bloomed outwards.

No, no, no.

He can no longer see, thrown back into that hellish day. Shizuo is standing in the doorway, body frozen as Izaya’s lifeless eyes stare out at him. The body atop of his is grunting with its brutal onslaught, Izaya’s head forced to bob with each violent thrust, and Shizuo can’t move, can’t do anything but watch.

Watch as someone fucks Izaya’s dead body.

“What the fuck Shizuo!?”

Shizuo lashes out, against the horror of it all, throwing Izaya away from him with violent strength and fear. He can’t hear the sound Izaya’s body makes as it hits the floor, the huff of air that is forced from the flea’s lungs as he is winded by the force, it doesn’t piece through flashes of memory, through a mind trapped by terror, because all he can hear is the sound of groaning sick pleasure.

Shizuo hunches over, trying to put his softening dick back into his pants with shaking hands. His breathing is coming out in harsh gasps, and a small part of his mind thinks he might actually pass out from lack of oxygen. But none of that matters, all that matters is he has to get out, has to get away.

Izaya moves from where he had landed painfully on the floor, hands reaching out for Shizuo.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

Izaya flinches back, Shizuo’s voice ripping from him like a physical blow.

“Shizu-chan...”

Shizuo can’t fucking breathe.

“Don't, just don’t.”

Get out, just fucking get out of there.

His mind was far away, still trapped in that apartment, that day, fear pushing his body forward.  

In a flash he was out the door and running, leaving Izaya on the floor wide-eyed and stunned, wondering what the hell had just happened.

[riskeith]

gun and sword boyfriends (1,707)

Ever since Keith used that weapon in the ship with the Robeast, Lance can’t stop thinking about it. Is it new? Is it a gun? Does that mean they have the same weapons? He talks to Kosmo about it, but the wolf gets tired of his wondering and teleports him to the Black lion, where he can ask Keith himself. 

PAIRING: Keith/Lance

RATING: teen and up audiences

TAGS: alternate universe - canon divergence, pining lance, confessions, ish, getting together, fluff

read on AO3 or under the cut 

“You wouldn’t happen to know if that’s a new development, would you? The gun, I mean.” Lance knows Kosmo isn’t going to reply to him—he’s only a wolf after all, although, he is a cosmic wolf, so, maybe he’ll be surprised. Maybe Keith was right, and he actually can talk, and he’ll answer the question that’s been on Lance’s mind since leaving that cruiser.

A moment passes, and it’s still silent, so Lance sighs. He’s honestly disappointed. Nothing has been happening these past few days, all they’re doing is checking star systems for Robeasts, but they haven’t had any luck. He’s glad for it, of course, it means no gruelling fights, however it also means he’s starting to lose his mind, and any Robeasts they don’t get to are no doubt causing mass amounts of destruction.

They’ve been trading off who Kosmo gets to ride with, because it didn’t seem fair that only Keith got to have company. They obviously still have each other through their intercoms, but sometimes they aren’t up for talking. Today, it’s Lance’s turn. It’s nice having the creature with him, he likes to take his right hand off the controls to run it through Kosmo’s soft fur.

Except, having Kosmo also means Lance is almost constantly reminded of Keith, and that means he keeps thinking about the crush he has on the Black Paladin.

It wasn’t a sudden development. Rather, it grew over time, slowly approaching Lance, draping itself over him and wrapping around him. Before he knew it, he had been consumed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Keith looked, or moved, or commanded. More than that though, he couldn’t get enough of the way Keith spoke with him, the way he treated him like he was to be valued. With Keith, he didn’t feel like an outsider. When Keith’s there, he’s never the third-wheel, or the fifth, or the seventh. It’s like he’s the first choice.

Lance hasn’t acted on his feelings at all, because it’s too risky right now when they’re in the middle of a war (he argues with himself about this, because isn’t that the exact reason why he should confess?), and because he’s scared, honestly. Every now and then he gets an inkling that Keith may like him back, and despite it being everything he should want, it makes him back away. He’s afraid he’s going to disappoint. Despite behaving the way he does, Lance has never really been with anyone before, and he doesn’t want to potentially mess it up with Keith. He wants it to be the real deal. He can picture himself spending the rest of his life with this guy. And he figures that if they never get together, they can’t break up. (Great thinking, right?)

So, he just sticks with pining. Admires from afar. Muses aloud. That’s another good thing about having Kosmo with him—it feels like the wolf understands. Whether he comprehends Lance’s words or not, sometimes he’ll make a noise in response. It’s different to when Lance is alone, it doesn’t feel like he’s talking to himself.

“Actually, I don’t know if it can be called a gun. It shot out a laser, a single, long beam. It’s different to all of mine. God, I can’t believe we have the same weapons. Can you believe that, buddy? Does he even know that?” Lance scrunches his face up to consider this, and suddenly there’s a bright light. By the time he realises what’s happening, it’s too late to protest.

Lance has never been too fond of teleporting, despite how cool it is. It feels like you’re free falling the entire time, and it terrifies Lance to think about what might happen if they don’t make it out the other end, so he’s never gladder to feel something solid beneath him after a jump. This time is no exception. That is, until he registers his surroundings.

He’s in the Black lion. Keith’s noticed Kosmo, no one can miss that flash of light, but he doesn’t know about Lance. He keeps his eyes forwards, and only realises he has another guest when Lance (accidentally) lets out a yelp.

Keith jumps in his seat, whips his head around, and when he spots Lance, his eyes widen. He accidentally jerks his thruster, sending the lion lurching, and turns back around to correct their positioning.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Keith whisper-yells at Lance, and he doesn’t appreciate it. This wasn’t his fault.

“Ask your wolf!”

“So Red has no pilot right now?”

Shit. In the midst of everything Lance forgot about her. He immediately launches up to Keith’s windscreen to look for her. She seems fine, she’s moving, but still, “is Red okay?”

“How would I know?”

Lance looks at Keith, and Keith stares back at Lance, then they shake their heads. Sometimes, even now, they don’t entirely understand how their lions work.

At this moment, the others’ voices come in through the intercom.

“Uh, is something happening?”

“Yeah, Black moved funnily, and Lance hasn’t said anything in a while.”

“Hey, who says I have to—” Lance is cut off by Keith smacking his chest. Lance makes an outraged face, but Keith just rolls his eyes. He then makes a gesture that’s something like ‘shut up’.

“Sorry about that guys, I was just testing something. And maybe Lance is just taking a break. So nothing’s wrong. Bye.” He promptly turns communications off.

“Smooth,” Lance teases, smirking. Keith rolls his eyes again.

“Why’re you here again? Hang on…” Keith narrows his eyes and looks around them, “where’s Kosmo?” Lance follows the movement, and confirms that they’re alone. “Is my wolf alone in your lion?” He suddenly sounds very accusatory, and his fierce protectiveness would be hot, if he wasn’t also staring daggers at Lance.

“Dude, this wasn’t my idea! If you want me gone, tell Kosmo to take me back!” Keith watches Lance closely, as if he’s waiting for more, so Lance sighs. “I kept talking about your bayard upgrade, and I guess he got tired of it, so he brought me here to ask you myself.” Keith prompts Lance to go on again, and he takes a moment to show Keith that he’s pushing it, before saying, “Is this the first time it’s happened? Also, is it a gun?”

“Yes, and yes. It’s an energy cannon. Why, you jealous?” There’s a lilt to Keith’s voice, he’s teasing, and it makes Lance swoon.

“What? No! I mean, I have a sword too, so—”

“You have a sword?” The surprise in Keith’s voice reminds Lance that he hasn’t told anyone, and that he hasn’t used the weapon in battle yet either.

“Ah. Yeah. An Altean broadsword.” Keith doesn’t respond for a moment, and Lance suddenly wonders if he’s the one who’s jealous. But then, he hums, nodding.

“Damn. Nice going.”

“Yup,” Lance replies awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to do now. His questions have been answered. He silently pleads for Kosmo to take him back; he misses Red. It’s kind of uncomfortable being here with Keith, and then it becomes all the more unbearable when Keith says, with an amused tone—

“Explains why I heard you muttering something about ‘gun and sword boyfriends’.”

Lance freezes. His heart goes into hyperdrive, and the beating of it is very loud in his ears. It feels as time is at a standstill, but he knows that isn’t true, he can see Keith tapping his thumb against the control. He doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t know if he can speak even if he tried. Keith heard him, so it might mean the others did as well, and now his feelings are out there in the open, and he feels extremely exposed, and—

“Shit, sorry. I forgot; don’t worry, I’m the only one who heard,” Lance breathes a huge sigh of relief, “our lines were the only ones open at the time, and even if they weren’t you said it so quietly no one else would’ve picked it up.” Lance opens his mouth, but before he can even get the question out, Keith answers it. “Must be some Galra thing.”

“Okay,” Lance’s voice comes out very small, and he nods numbly. Belatedly, he realises that Keith hasn’t actually shown a reaction to what he said. After mustering his courage, he asks, “And you’re… alright with it?”

“With…? Oh, yeah. The Quantum Abyss,” Keith says it as if it explains everything, and then, “But even without that, sometimes you aren’t subtle.” Lance sees the reflection of Keith smirk, and he’s about to protest, when he realises what the first part implies.

“Does that mean…” Lance can’t finish the sentence. He can’t take that leap, not without knowing whether there’s a safety net at the bottom ready to catch him. (There is, though; it’s Keith, who has his arms open.)

“We’re a couple,” Keith gives a small, easy smile. He sounds happy. “Or at least, we will be. I like you, Lance. But that doesn’t mean we have to get together right this moment. Whenever you’re ready.”

Lance takes careful steps to where Keith is, and when he’s beside him, the pilot looks up, meeting his eyes. It takes his breath away. “What if,” he starts, voice barely a whisper, “I’m ready now?” He sees Keith’s grin widen. “I like you too, Keith, and I have for a long time.” Lance looks down, trying to find his words, “I was—”

Keith stops Lance’s oncoming ramble by placing his hand on Lance’s cheek. Even though Lance’s helmet is in the way, it’s almost as if it wasn’t. Lance can feel Keith’s hand on him, gentle and warm. He leans into it, as best he can, and closes his eyes. He’s suddenly overcome with emotions. He’s scared, terrified now, but also excited, and happy. He’s absolutely over the moon (pun intended). When he opens his eyes again, and raises his head, he’s sure Keith notices his elation. He’s pretty sure he sees it reflected in Keith. He’s better at controlling it, though. While Lance feels like he’s about to burst, Keith calmly takes Lance’s hand in his own, and squeezes. His eyes soften.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

[emilyzh2019-blog]

My Craziest Travel Story

Somewhere In Mexico…

This is the story of how I accidentally wandered into an extremely remote Mexican village that was openly controlled by a ruthless drug cartel — and what happened next.

The other week I was taking an Uber from the airport, chatting with the driver about traveling and working around the world as a nomad.

After asking the standard question everyone asks “what’s your favorite country”, he wanted to know if I’ve ever felt in any danger while traveling.

Sure, I’ve been scared before.

When I crossed the border into Afghanistan by myself on foot.

Balancing on rusty beams 300 feet over a canyon in Spain.

Attempting to wade across a crocodile-infested river in Costa Rica.

Scuba diving without a cage in Fiji face-to-face with bull sharks.

Spending the night on an erupting volcano in Guatemala.

Illegally hopping a freight train while hitchhiking across America.

Yes, looking back, I’ve done some stupid & risky stuff over the years…

But the most scared I’ve ever been — was on a journey through Northern Mexico about 7 years ago. And it’s a story I’ve NEVER shared on this blog.

I wrestled with writing about this experience for a long time.

It just didn’t feel appropriate to share publicly, or even very safe for that matter. I was worried about the possible consequences for myself and others.

Yet I think enough time has passed that I finally feel comfortable sharing my crazy (and pretty dumb) encounter with dangerous members of a notorious drug cartel in the lawless mountains deep within Mexico’s Copper Canyon.

Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.

The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains

Once Upon A Time In Mexico…

My tale begins in the Mexican tourist town of Creel. A major stop for the popular Copper Canyon Train which runs from the cities of Chihuahua through the Sierra Tarahumara mountains to Los Mochis on the coast.

After a very scenic (but uneventful) train journey through the mountains, I planned to explore more of this mountainous area on my own. Hoping to spend time with the Tarahumara, a Mexican indigenous group.

While chatting with locals, I learned of small villages at the bottom of the canyon that would present a more “authentic” Northern Mexican experience. Off-the-beaten-path if you will.

These places were not easy to reach, and the drive would take hours on rough mountain roads. I mentioned my plan to a local guy (let’s call him Fede) who I’d worked with earlier, and he offered to take me in his vehicle.

Fede wasn’t just some random dude. I’d already spent a few days traveling with him. Even crashing overnight at his family’s house. He was a well-known local professional. I trusted him completely.

Rugged Dirt Roads in Mexico

Surprises Down In The Canyon

I’m not going to name the specific village I traveled to in this story. However, I’m sure if you dig deep enough, you’ll probably be able to figure it out.

Because it’s not like what goes on down there isn’t unknown within Mexico.

Over the course of our 4+ hour drive down winding dirt roads into the depths of the Copper Canyon, Fede starts to share some unsettling information with me.

“When we get there, you may see some stuff that’s alarming. But don’t worry. They know you’re coming.” – Fede

“Wait, what?! What kind of stuff? Who knows I’m coming?” – Me

“The Cartel. They control this town. But when the guesthouse has a tourist, the owner informs The Cartel. They won’t bother you as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” – Fede

“……….” – Me

The Cartel he was referring to is the Sinaloa Drug Cartel. Aka Cártel de Sinaloa, aka the Guzmán-Loera Organization, aka The Blood Alliance.

The same cartel controlled by the notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, who was just on trial in the United States for drug trafficking, murder, and money laundering.

What the hell did I just get myself into?

The Golden Triangle – Drug Production Area in Mexico

Mexico’s Golden Triangle

The Golden Triangle is the nickname given to a remote and mountainous region in Northern Mexico that encompasses the states of Chihuahua, Sinaloa, and Durango.

It’s where Mexico’s powerful cartels have been growing billions of dollars worth of heroin & weed to supply an insatiable demand for drugs from the United States.

Cartels are able to produce drugs in the Golden Triangle because the area is so rugged & inaccessible that it can take hours to reach these small villages on unmarked dirt roads.

Mexico’s Copper Canyon, if you haven’t heard of it before, is a massive canyon that’s technically larger and deeper than the US Grand Canyon. It is the perfect hiding place for fields of illegally grown opium poppies & marijuana plants!

Combine this fact with a desperately poor workforce of indigenous people called the Tarahumara, and you’ve got a Mexican drug lord’s wet dream.

This is where I found myself.

On the edge of the Golden Triangle, in a village controlled by the Sinaloa Cartel.

The Only Bridge Into Town

A Surreal Travel Experience

As we pull into the village, over a narrow bridge, I see a kid talking into a military-style radio. He’s announcing our arrival to the cartel. My heart begins to race.

Further down the road, we pass a group of men dressed in black, armed with assault rifles. I begin to sweat.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…

Fede notices my apprehension and assures me everything will be ok. I’m not the first tourist to visit this town.

Because the cartel doesn’t want to draw any attention to themselves, they’d never harm a tourist. That would force the military to intervene and ruin everything.

I check into my guesthouse, the only one in town, and we eat lunch at his friend’s place, which is basically a small restaurant run out of her home.

One of the Cartel’s Trucks

Keeping Tabs On Me…

Fede says his goodbyes and leaves town. He has to go back to work. So I’m on my own now. I walk around town. I visit some abandoned silver mines nearby.

I stop into the local museum and sign the guestbook (the last signature is over a month old).

I pass by the group of cartel members I saw earlier. We say hello to each other. While they certainly appear to fit the stereotype of hardened criminals, they seem friendly enough.

I still can’t quite believe this is happening.

My goal for the day is to visit an old Spanish Mission, located a few miles out of town. On the way, I run into a pickup truck with blacked-out windows on the side of the road. As I approach, the driver’s side window rolls down.

“¿A dónde vas?” says a large scary dude in a cowboy hat. There’s a beautiful woman half his age in the passenger seat.

“La misión Española” I reply. He nods, and the window slides back up. They’re keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don’t stumble into their fields of poppy or marijuana.

Friendly Mexican Drug Farmer

This Sack is Full of Weed…

Everyone Works For The Drug Cartel

Over the next few days, I learn that basically the whole town is working for the cartel. They are the sole employer.

I’m not sure if it’s by choice, or by the threat of violence, but growing and trafficking drugs for the cartel is how this town survives.

And some of them are not afraid to talk about it. Growing marijuana is as normal as growing corn. It’s just another crop — only one that pays much better.

After chatting with one local farmer for a while, he takes me up to a small barn behind his house, pulls out a large sack, and offers me two giant handfuls of freshly picked marijuana buds!

I start laughing, thanking him for his generosity, but explain that there’s no way I can bring his gift back into the United States with me.

But… because I’m a polite guy, I accept a few flowers so he isn’t offended.

This man isn’t some murderous cartel member, he’s just a friendly, impoverished farmer trying to make a living for his family with very limited opportunities.

Making Friends in Town

A Very Surreal Experience

So while the whole cartel situation had me feeling pretty nervous, this next part was the scariest moment of the whole few days I was down there.

My comfort level had been improving. I was getting used to chatting with cartel members each day. Maybe too comfortable.

One evening, a young Mexican guy dressed like a rodeo cowboy walks into the home-based restaurant where I’m eating dinner.

He’s wearing a pair of beautiful, very fancy white-handled revolvers on his hip. Like right out of your typical Spaghetti Western movie.

A heavily armed bodyguard wearing a bullet-proof vest waits for him outside.

We happily chat for a minute in Spanish, asking how I like the food, before they both disappear into the darkness of night. Everything is getting very surreal, and I seriously feel like I’m trapped in a movie.

On another occasion, I watch a team of five armed men loading blue 55-gallon drums of something from a truck into a guarded building.

Weed? Opium poppies? Human remains dissolving in acid? My imagination starts to run wild…

Sinaloa Cartel Members (Faces Censored for Safety)

Getting The Shot

I REALLY wanted a photo of one of these guys. No one would believe all this happened to me unless I had a photo!

So the next morning, I cut a small hole into the side of my backpack and tape a GoPro inside. My plan is to use “time-lapse” mode, quietly shooting photos automatically as I walk past them.

However as I approach, I decide to stop and chat. With my adrenaline pumping, I simply ask them directly. Pointing at the camera around my neck. What’s the worst that could happen?

“¿Puedo tomar tu retrato?” (Can I take your portrait?) – Me

“Jajaja… no.” – Cartel Dude

“Please? My American friends back home would love to see your big gun. I can leave your face out of it if you’d like.” – Me

“Jajaja… no. But you can get a photo of my amigo here.” – Cartel Dude

So, without thinking about the consequences, I aim my wide-angle lens at the truck driver sitting next to him. *CLICK*

Cartel Dude is in the photo too, but just doesn’t realize it.

Immediately I start to panic — internally. What if he asks to see the photo? That was so dumb! I’m going to get myself killed. Maybe I can quickly use the zoom button before showing it to him…

Fortunatley he never asks — and just assumes the camera wasn’t aimed his way.

I try to act normal, end the conversation, and walk off down the road contemplating just how stupid that was.

I think it’s time for me to leave this town.

Patrolling the Village

Mexico’s Remote Golden Triangle

Cartel Wars In The Mountains

As someone who has spent almost 2 years of my life both living and traveling through Mexico, I’ll be the first to tell you it’s one of my favorite countries.

I certainly don’t want my story to scare you from visiting Mexico. This is NOT a typical Mexican vacation experience.

I specifically went out of my way to visit a remote area that isn’t very safe. Even for the Copper Canyon itself — if you stay on the normal tourist trail you’ll be fine.

However if you venture off-grid in this region, there’s a lot of sh*t going on.

Mexico is an amazing and beautiful destination, but like any country, it can also be a dangerous one if you go looking for danger.

Golden Triangle In Flames Again (Borderland Beat)

Extreme Race in the Shadow of Extreme Danger (New York Times)

Drug Gangs Delay Sierra Trail Riders (My San Antonio)

One particular story that shook me recently was the murder of North Carolina teacher Patrick Braxton-Andrew, who was visiting a similar remote village in the same region last year.

That one hit close to home. A curious traveler looking for adventure, trying to get off the beaten path, exploring a dangerous area on his own… mistaken for a DEA agent and shot by the drug cartels.

When I first started traveling, I did many risky and stupid things seeking that addictive jolt of adrenaline. Hell, I haven’t completely cured myself of it even now!

Luckily everything has turned out ok so far, and I have some pretty incredible memories and stories to show for it.

But that isn’t always the case for everyone.

My Scariest Travel Story

I’m not sure if there is a lesson in this story. Maybe there are many.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes? Young people traveling with no responsibilities often take unnecessary risks for fun? Don’t be an idiot like me?

I’m sure I’ll be judged and ridiculed a bit for writing about this. That’s ok. It happened, and I have to live with it. I’m probably lucky to be living at all…

Have you ever done anything stupid like this while traveling? Taken on too much risk? Gotten yourself into a sticky situation that you regret later?

Frequent travelers have this insufferable tendency to “one-up” each other’s travel stories — and this one is mine. The one I share at bars after a few drinks.

Now it’s your turn to share.

Take a minute to quickly describe your scariest/dumb travel story.

If only to make me feel like I’m not the only one out there who’s done something stupid on the road…

Maybe we can turn it into a guide on “what-not-to-do while traveling.” ★

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READ MORE TRAVEL TIPS

My 50 Best Tips After 9 Years Traveling Is Instagram Ruining Travel? How To Take Better Travel Photos Why I Quit Being A Digital Nomad Tips For Starting A Travel Blog

What’s your scariest travel story? Have you ever done something dangerous or stupid while traveling? Drop me a message in the comments below!

This is a post from The Expert Vagabond adventure blog.

[deli-counter]

do all 155 questions you reblogged

you are a good person

1: Full name Delaney Quinn _____

2: Age 19 

3: 3 Fears Failure, elevators, my college 

4: 3 things I love biscuits, broad city, carpeted garages 

5: 4 turns on men sighing, intelligence, deep, low voices, people who take action immediately in bad situations 

6: 4 turns off arrogance/narcism, men who talk about cars a lot, flip flops, really strong perfumes and colognes 

7: My best friend Matthew!!!!

8: Sexual orientation Straight

9: My best first date Every single first date I have ever had has been utter shit in every way and I could explain but there’s no time nor drive to do this 

10: How tall am I 5′4″ - 5′5″ maybe?

11: What do I miss Bahn mi......i am paleo now and it sux but I do love complaining about it and seeming important for doing paleo 

12: What time were I born Like 12:15pm

13: Favourite color green!

14: Do I have a crush like 100 but none are realistic, accessible, or serious 

15: Favourite quote “From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.” - Edvard Munch 

16: Favourite place honestly i love my bathroom i love pooping and workin on my best self 

17: Favourite food gnocchi

18: Do I use sarcasm yeah i think everyone does 

19: What am I listening to right now broad city dialogue 

20: First thing I notice in new person how they greet you/tone i guess

21: Shoe size 6 1/2 - 7

22: Eye color brown 

23: Hair color dark brown but the dye’s faded into just muddy brown with some red how interesting

24: Favourite style of clothing vintage 

25: Ever done a prank call? yeah 

27: Meaning behind my URL i do theatre and i’m pretentious 

28: Favourite movie The Help 

29: Favourite song ??? stupid ass question idk 

30: Favourite band ??? stupid ass question idk 

31: How I feel right now ??? stupid ass question idk 

32: Someone I love My sister!

33: My current relationship status Single 

34: My relationship with my parents really great tbh

35: Favourite holiday Halloween 

36: Tattoos and piercing i have none 

37: Tattoos and piercing i want i would like to get my ears pierced 

38: The reason I joined Tumblr to complain to my friend Jenna 

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? No

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? No

42: When did I last hold hands? Yikes who knows 

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? 45 min?

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? yep

45: Where am I right now? my room 

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? i’m taking care of someone else and i do not like drinking

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? depends 

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? when i’m not at college yeah

49: Am I excited for anything? i’m in spring awakening and we start rehearsals on saturday!!

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? yes my sweet sweet matthew 

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? as dramatic as this question is, so am I, and a lot  

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? today I hugged my beautiful and perfect sister 

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? that’s okay it was for a scene 

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? oh yeah 

55: What is something I disliked about today? this was the worst day in a while so a lot 

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? dave malloy 

57: What do I think about most? anxiety dude and currently what caused my ptsd 

58: What’s my strangest talent? ?? idk i do a great Viola Dais in The Help impression as risky and bad as that sounds 

59: Do I have any strange phobias? sure but mostly just elevators 

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? in front 

61: What was the last lie I told? great question

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? neither 

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? yes and yes 

64: Do I believe in magic? I believe in the power of God so sure that counts

65: Do I believe in luck? nah 

66: What’s the weather like right now? it’s like 67 rn 

67: What was the last book I’ve read? I ready mostly scripts now so idk 

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? no 

69: Do I have any nicknames? Squeaky, Del, Delami, Lane, Joanne, Jew, etc. 

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? I had like a kidney stone that sucked. Idk about injury. A chunk of my nose is missing due to skin strep I had as a child. 

71: Do I spend money or save it? Both

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue? If I help it up there yeah 

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? I have an old Lady Be Good postcard near me with some pink on it, and Sorcerer’s Stone is beside me and there’s some pink on that cover 

74: Favourite animal? Koala I think 

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Sleepin maybe or playing Sims Freeplay 

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? None he’s got one name like Beyonce 

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? The Private and Intimate Life of the House from Great Comet 

78: How can you win my heart? Genuinely respect me 

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? “Rip it up”

80: What is my favorite word? I like cynosure a lot. Someone called me that once and it was always very special to me. 

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr rossgellerfanclub 5 times 

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? does anyone wanna pay for my college 

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? no

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? shapeshifting 

86: What is my current desktop picture? a pixelated ocean and sky it’s very cute 

88: Bought condoms? no

89: Gotten pregnant? no 

90: Failed a class? maybe? to be seen 

91: Kissed a boy? yes

92: Kissed a girl? yes for a scene at school 

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? no

94: Had job? define job 

95: Left the house without my wallet? yes

96: Bullied someone on the internet? no

97: Had sex in public? no

98: Played on a sports team? no

99: Smoked weed? no

100: Did drugs? no

101: Smoked cigarettes? no

102: Drank alcohol? a sip once or twice and it’s bad man i hate it 

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? paleo bitch!!!!

104: Been overweight? ya

105: Been underweight? no

106: Been to a wedding? yes several 

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? yes easily 

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? yes easily 

109: Been outside my home country? yes

110: Gotten my heart broken? no 

111: Been to a professional sports game? yes

112: Broken a bone? no

113: Cut myself? yes

114: Been to prom? yes

115: Been in airplane? yes

116: Fly by helicopter? no

117: What concerts have I been to? american idol but the season with carrie underwood 

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? no

119: Learned another language? like partial sure

120: Wore make up? yes

123: Dyed my hair? yes

124: Voted in a presidential election? yes

125: Rode in an ambulance? yes

126: Had a surgery? no

127: Met someone famous? yes! a few but i don’t feel like listing

128: Stalked someone on a social network? we all have

129: Peed outside? no

130: Been fishing? no

131: Helped with charity? yes

132: Been rejected by a crush? yes

133: Broken a mirror? no

134: What do I want for birthday? cash and a nice dinner and maybe a kiss!!

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? 2! i would like a boy and a girl. Names like Ezra and Porter and stuff idk 

136: Was I named after anyone? Elaine from Seinfeld, cause her nickname was Laney 

137: Do I like my handwriting? it’s alright yeah 

138: What was my favourite toy as a child? i loved barbies man and I had a lovely babydoll 

139: Favourite Tv Show? 30 Rock 

140: Where do I want to live when older? NYC then Chicago then somewhere weird like Vermont and then Germany 

141: Play any musical instrument? i used to play flute and a lil piano but now like nothing. trying to work a vocal looper tho 

142: One of my scars, how did I get it? cutting myself

143: Favourite pizza toping? caramelized onion and basil 

144: Am I afraid of the dark? yeah a bit 

145: Am I afraid of heights? yeah

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? i made a friend online when I was like 12 and did not tell my parents lol 

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? yes of course

148: What I’m really bad at dancing 

149: What my greatest achievements are surviving ptsd is pretty fkn cool 

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me not discussing that here 

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery pay off college, pay off my parents debt, donate to charity, buy myself some luxury apartments and a dog, some amazing food, get some good bras, see a ton of shows on broadway!!!!!

152: What do I like about myself persistence and humor 

153: My closest Tumblr friend jenna we don’t talk much anymore but I’ll always love that b 

154: Something I fantasize about being a greek goddess or in the center of a victorian love triangle quite honestly 

155: Any question you’d like? ------ N/A

THANKIE!!!!!!!

[emulatingrizal-blog]

The Forgotten Story of Ligaya

by ABVP

 "Señor Basilio, are you not from San Diego?"

 It was a rainy afternoon. The streets of Manila were stained with rainwater and mud, worrying the young probinsyano who was busy scurrying his way back to his dormitory. He wasn't quite used to the city yet, considering that the transition of him moving from a said peaceful countryside to a polluted, terror-infested capital was too sudden.

 Basilio had to do it. Ever since the mysterious boatman told him to study at the capital seconds before his death, the orphan had a hunch to follow him. The boatman died alongside the young one's mother, Sisa. When their ashes blew from the pyre, Basilio knew what he had to protect: their legacy.

 Kapitan Tiago took Basilio in after Maria Clara entered the convent. Tiago then granted his wishes to go and study at the capital. Tiago never knew Basilio's intentions but he trusted him.

 The bells for the 3:00 prayer rang from a distance. Bystanders were having a feast by the roadsides, the sounds of beer bottles hitting each other and their irritating belows of cheers annoying Basilio as he attempted to avoid interaction.

 He looked for shade and that's when a peculiar woman started talking to him.

 She did not look feminine at all. When common females would be dressed in their best baro't saya clothes, the woman was covered in a crude farmer's outfit. Her appearance was cut off from the rest of the Manila citizens but she awfully reminded him of someone when he saw the salakot on her head. The lad could not see her face at all.

 "I am." He finally answered, arranging his damp fringes to get a good look at the woman.

 "Ah, glad to see a fellow probinsyano trying to fit in the crowds of this dreadful place," she laughed weakly, "it reeks of criminals and injustice."

 After suppressing a chuckle, he comments, "Like San Diego differs."

 He caught a glimpse of the woman's smile before she left. She did not leave a name for him to remember, so he just dubbed her as "Ligaya".

   The bearded man sporting blue, round glasses had the young one at gunpoint.

 Basilio went to the pyre back in San Diego when Christmas came and was not expecting someone else to be there since it was an isolated area. The mysterious man dug the ground which reminded Basilio that it had hidden treasures underneath the dirt but the aura was choking him because of the man's sinister presence. Unfortunately, the young one was caught.

 "What is it that you want?" The man asked him, the barrel of the gun threatening the young one, "I do not have all day."

 "I-I came to visit my mother's grave."

 "Huh, that is odd," the man finally took his gun away by hiding it inside his coat, "you must be the adoptive son of Kapitan Tiago."

 There was a familiar tone in the man's voice that Basilio could not help but stammer. "And you must be... Señor Ibarra?"

 Basilio heard Tiago's stories about Maria Clara's lover and how he was so trusting, intelligent but dangerously short-tempered when it comes to the former priests.

 But the man chuckled, "Oh, that señor is a dead man."

 Basilio was skeptical, he did not trust him. After a few moments, the man introduced himself as Simoun, a jeweller. Simoun offered the young man to join his revolution against the Spanish administration. But Basilio declines and just hoped for the improvement of the country. This disappointed the jeweller but nevertheless told the young one to reconsider before shortly leaving.

 As soon as Basilio laid the bouquet of roses on the dirt near the tree, another eerie presence shocked him.

 "You again," Basilio calls out to the shadow, "the woman under the shade."

 She didn't look pleased to see him at all, "I see you have met the jeweller and I am disturbed at the fact that you rejected the offer."

 "I cannot join such a thing," he shook his head, "do you two know each other?"

 "We do, but I hate his cocky attitude sometimes," she crossed her arms, looking pissed, "we do not work together but we have the same intentions."

 "To overthrow the government."

 "Yes, and I wanted you to be a part of us too."

   Ligaya never had any name nor was she given one.

 When she was just a child, her parents were brutally murdered by the Spanish because of a false accusation, then she promised to take her revenge. From her province, she was transported to Manila to become a housemaid. She met nuns along the way and earned their pity. She was taken into a convent where she was raised by the nuns but she sneaks out to find more information about the Spanish authorities.

 "Dear, someone is calling you from the door," Sister Barbara, the one Ligaya was the most close to, tapped her shoulder whilst she was tying rosary beads together.

 Ligaya expected it to be Isagani, another student whom she grew up with. He was a reserved law student who yearned for a just environment. They became friends after Ligaya learnt his objective.

 "You are surprisingly clean today," Isagani looks down on her with a chuckle.

They planned a walk around the avenue as Isagani shared his plans in building a Spanish academy alongside his other peers despite the opposition of their mentors.

 Ligaya tried her best to keep his hopes up. She pitied him after he was ditched by his former lover, Paulita, who left him for another man named Juanito. Isagani has not been himself after that, so Ligaya would attempt to keep him distracted from his past.

 "Is it not risky for you and your friends to push the academy?" She questioned, "Would the priests not be tempted to—"

 "Close the program?" He let out a sigh of disbelief, "I am worried that it is a possibility."

 Amongst the crowd, Ligaya recognized someone's back. She rushed towards it in a hurry, accidentally dragging Isagani along. He was surprised at Ligaya's sudden speed.

 "Hey!"

 "There is a man I have not seen for some time now."

  "Darling?"

 Sister Barbara heard music echoing from the altar. Judging by the same notes she had heard before, it was clearly by Ligaya's playing. Sure enough, the nun saw her sitting on one of the front pews with an unpolished guitar resting on the top of her lap.

 Ligaya's strumming was heartfelt so the nun knew that she was thinking of something- or perhaps someone- else.

 "Oh," the young one got startled at the presence of the sister, "it is time for bed?"

 "You are already past your bed time, dear," Sister Barbara commented with a heartwarming smile, "why the straight face?"

 "N-nothing, really..."

 "I see a woman with a hurt heart," the nun sat beside her, "are you seeing someone else besides Isagani?"

 Ligaya scoffed at the idea of her seeing someone, "Men have wicked ideas of romance."

 "You do realize that there is no point in lying to me," Sister Barbara replies, "I have been chaperoning you for years; I know when something is on your mind."

 "I just do not... understand myself," she stopped playing with the strings, "honestly, I have been fancying someone but, look at me..."

 Sister Barbara frowned back at her. She acknowledged in secret how preoccupied Ligaya was in stirring a revolution that developing odd feelings for someone was never in her agenda.

 "And he already has a-"

 "Lover, yes." Ligaya looks away in shame, trying to get rid of the pain in her chest, "This feels strange..."

 "That feeling... is affection, my dear."

 "I fell in love with someone before," Sister Barbara's voice was ringing in her mind, "and we were happy."

 "You always tell that tale but you never bothered finishing it."

 "But it is, dear. He just... went away, without saying farewell."

   "And we would like to send our gratitudes to Sister Barbara who has joined our Creator this morning," the head priest of the Parish announced from the podium, "she will be remembered."

 Ligaya was standing by the doors of the church, trying to ignore the priest's homily. Simoun requested a meeting with her and Basilio who were planning to create a mock celebration.

 "Oh, you are finally here." Ligaya smiled back the gentlemen, "I see that Señor Basilio has joined our little revolution party."

 "I—"

 "Now, now, you two," Simoun scolded as he gestured the two to take the kalesa in front of them, "we do not have time left."

 The bearded man took one last glimpse of the atlar, muttering how the face of the nun looks awfully familiar.

 Ligaya dumbfoundedly gazed at Basilio, Sister Barbara's last phrases whispering, "So do not do what I have done, dear, for you will never know which one of you will leave first. While he is still around, you have to let him acknowledge your feelings, because nothing is more hurting that holding back even just one simple sentence that will make you regret for the rest of your life."

 A few days after the celebration at the panciteria, things did not end well.

 Ligaya was not aware of it at first as she was hiding in the convent while pretending to be a nun by wearing one of late Sister Barbara's sutana dresses. When she saw familiar students getting dragged just across the street, she had a hunch that the young lad would be one of them.

 "Basilio?" Ligaya called out, concerned.

 Another one joined the party and she immediately recognized him, "Basilio!"

 Basilio, with a black eye evading the left side of his face, called back, "Ligaya?"

 Ligaya's face scrunched in confusion as she looked at his badly bruised face. Regardless, she knelt before him, carefully examining his injuries. A guard harshly pulled her up, pushing her away from him.

 "They did not put up those posters!" She ran towards the guards, still pretending to be a nun, "I beg for your mercy!"

 "This is not any of your business!" The guard shouted back, earning anger from Ligaya as she dangerously marched up to the guard.

 Ligaya landed a strong punch on the guard's stomach, having him on his knees in pain. "I hope the Almighty God forgives your sins."

 "If some priests can touch nuns without consent, then the nuns can have their own share of sins," Sister Barbara's voice rang in her again, "but if you are to use force, be smart and use it only if it is just."

 "You did not even join the celebration so why were you arrested?"

 Ligaya had sneaked into the precint without the guards knowing. At night, while they were busy partying, she found out a way to find a duplicated key for Basilio's cell.

 Basilio grunted at the sting of the cold cloth being pressed on his swollen eye, "I may have been one of the people who planned it."

 She sighs, carefully cleaning the rest of Basilio's wounds. "You fought back, did you not?"

 "I did," Basilio caught a glimpse of Ligaya's eyes and they were glistening, "I had to. I was at home and... Juli was there."

 Ligaya's heart stopped. "Juli is her name?"

 He nodded in approval, "They were threatening her. I can only imagine how ashamed she is of me, now that her fiancé is in jail."

 "... You will get out of this place soon."

 Basilio asked Ligaya a favor to check on his fiancé Juli at home.

 Of course, how could she refuse?

 With a heavy heart, she followed his instructions and stumbled upon the home Basilio shared with Juli. It was a traditional, Spanish-styled home with shell sheets for its window panes and walls made of polished wood. She has never seen such an intricate home before and she was envious.

 There was, suddenly, a scream from the inside.

 It was a horrified scream and there were heavy footsteps, alarming her that something has terribly gone wrong. Instead of gently knocking on the door, she knocked it down with her feet with all of her might. The damage created debris.

 The scream was getting louder as well as the footsteps, so she hurriedly rushed upstairs, only to see a priest and a young lady leave a mess of the place.

 She knew the priest's intentions and it was to touch Juli. Basilio's fiancé has already made it to the window and it worried Ligaya heavily than she expected.

 The event was too fast that Juli had slipped out of the window due to panic. Juli's screams fainted as she fell down, a loud thud ringing into Ligaya's ears. It frightened her.

 Running out, she laid her hand on Juli's neck to sense any small sign of life. Her heart paced once she realized. With her eyes almost dimming, she caught the priest trying to flee the scene and before she knew it, a gun shot was heard.

 Ligaya had killed the priest and Juli was gone.

 Basilio was furious once he found out.

 "You kept it from me for days! For days!" He was in rage, "Just when I thought I have finally seen freedom! You fool! I never should have trusted you!"

 "You were in jail and what would have happened if I told you?! You are probably dead by now!" She cried, "For you, I killed the priest who tried to touch her-"

 "That does not change anything because she is still dead!"

 Ligaya just wanted to break down at that very moment. She could feel Basilio's pain, knowing how long they must have waited for their wedding to happen. She witnessed the engagement at the avenue when Isagani was with her and remembering the smiles of the couple only doubled the weight on their shoulders. She wished she was quick enough to react.

 Basilio then confronted Simoun, the man behind his release, and finally proclaimed, "I will join the revolution."

 Trouble started stirring as the wedding drew near.

 Turns out one civil guard found out one of Ligaya's agendas when he spotted her sneaking in and out of the precint. Father Camorra was reported missing and the guard swore that there was a sound of a gunshot near Juli's residence. Suspicion grew amongst the officials and decided to pay Ligaya a friendly visit at the convent.

 Except it was not as friendly as anyone would expect.

 The mass was interrupted by civil guards entering abruptly, even the priest looked flabbergasted. Everybody's breaths hitched as they saw their dangerous revolvers pointing at them.

 The highest official was calling out to a woman pretending to be a nun who wore a salakot most of the time to protect her identity. They were not aware that Ligaya was sitting in the front pew the whole time they were looking for her.

 An intimidating presence drew close to her and she could not hold back any longer: she opened fire.

 Gruesomely shooting the guard on his forehead, panic rose from the mass goers as the guard's blood scattered and stained the atlar. Ligaya sprung from her seat and ran out of one of the exits of the church.

 "She is the murderer of Father Camorra!"

 The guards were itching to seize her, shooting their bullets at her and in process hitting innocent bystanders who were not involved at all.

 One guard successfully hit Ligaya's arm, making her groan in pain, yet she did not stop running. She stripped down every piece of her sutana, revealing her normal crude outfit. When she finally entered the outside crowd, the guards failed to keep track of her.

 They lost her.

 When Ligaya appeared in front of Basilio's porchstep, the young lad was horrified to see Ligaya's bleeding shoulder.

 Silence enveloped them both as Basilio treated her wound. They could not find the words to tell each other, considering that the week has been pressing on them lately and everyone was not in a good mood.

 Ligaya looked back at Basilio. He did not look okay at all. His hair was out of sorts and his posture was poorly uncoordinated. Even the way he was treating her was a bit sluggish, making her know that Basilio was exhausted.

 "Señor," she mumbled weakly as he closed the bandages to her wound, "you addressed me with a name the other day."

 "What about it?" Basilio replied, not showing any interest at all.

 "... I am curious about its origin."

 "It is nothing," he says, "you did not leave a name so I made you one."

 "You remind me of him."

 They finally settled inside Basilio's bedroom where we were to rest. Ligaya was given Juli's nightgown and Basilio could not give her a straight look. The moon was the only source of light in the room and it gave off a serene but poignant feeling. They lied on one bed but neither did not want the other close to them.

 "Who, specifically?" Basilio cocked his head to the side to look at Ligaya.

 "A person I used to care about," they locked gazes for a moment before Ligaya turned and looked at the wooden ceiling, "a fiancé I had as well."

 Basilio was surprised at the fact that she was someone's fiancé too, but he kept quiet to hear her story.

 "He was always hated on by the friars because of how famous he was in his province for his kind heart," she started, "I was just exploring the place myself until we met and like any other couple ever, we eventually fell for each other. We were about to get wed but..."

 Ligaya took a deep breath, "He became my husband, but only for a few minutes."

 The yound lad felt guilty, "I am sorry."

 "Shot right in front of me by those Spanish guards on our wedding day, how... inhumane." Her voice broke along with Basilio's heart once he heard, "You are kind, gentle too, like he was. But the only difference is that it was you who lost her."

 Ligaya turns to look at him again with a broken smile, "Then... you remind me of me."

 The date had arrived.

 Simoun had successfully planted the bombs around late Kapitan Tiago's residence, the location of the wedding. All of the most important people will be attending the wedding of Juanito and Paulita.

 Isagani held his silence, but it felt different. It had the aura of guilt and remorse, but regardless, the mission still continued.

 Ligaya was instructed to be a lookout from a distant area and this concerned Basilio. It was just last night when she showed her vulnerable side and the young lad was not quite sure if he is ready to get his sight out of her.

 Basilio snapped back into reality when her hand tapped his shoulder, "Señor, good luck."

 It was a weak encouragement, "Are you okay?" The young lad asked.

 Ligaya smiled back at him, "Yes."

 If only Basilio knew her side. Ligaya felt as if her hours are now being numbered as Sister Barbara's last words whispered to her again. She was having a feeling that things will not go accordingly.

 But she decided to accept whatever fate has prepared for her.

 "Señor, please meet me under the shade after escorting Isagani."

 Simoun had left them and Basilio escaped the scene after having a change of heart.

 Unfortunately, the civil guards spotted Ligaya's appearance at the wedding and did not hesitate to chase her. The streets brewed chaos as Ligaya ran to the shade as quickly as she could possibly go.

 Rain started to pour as she made her way through the crowd hastily. She squinted her eyes, trying to locate the shed where she met Basilio for the first time.

 "Ligaya!"

 "Señor!" Ligaya yelped in shock as a hand pulled her from the crowd.

 It was Basilio. The fringes of his hair were wet and his posh suit was ruined. Ligaya, with the same crude clothing, was also wet. They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

 They could not believe how this coincidentally happened. Everything was exactly how everything started: the rain, how damp they were and how they were under the shed.

 They both stopped and gazed at each other, appreciating each other's features. Now, they both looked so lovestruck that it was such a heartwarming sight. They were so busy that they never acknowledged each other's beauty. They never saw it coming, but their affection drew them closer.

 "I wish I lived long enough to hear you say the name you have given me every morning, noon and evening."

 When the bullet hit her chest, it was all over; their lips seperated as Ligaya mouthed the words, "Run."

 Basilio did not want to leave; he wanted to stay in that moment forever. He was not ready to let go of someone just yet, but it slipped from his fingers too fast and he never had a choice.

 "I will be with you from now on." She declares as death slowly started to swim into her veins, "Señor, thank you for everything; even if time was short, at least you gave me life in a lifetime of death."

 "Mahal kita." Basilio muttered for the last time to her before fleeing.

 His last glimpse of Ligaya's smile was all he needed to remember.

 END.