#i don't know if that's how i'll end up displaying the health though.

[loveletterworm]

Yesterday all my creative efforts were devoted to making a chicken wrap for lunch so i forgot what i was supposed to be working on with the viddyo games. So now i’m just arbitrarily putting numbers on the screen

#6 hp seems so low its dumb but here's a secret: it makes 3 whole hearts ! #i don't know if that's how i'll end up displaying the health though. #i think with a game that will in theory have some sort of dodging situation though it is usually preferred if the player has very low hp #because if you can just tank shots it's like Why are they even this fancy #but also eventually in this process i will one day have to remember I'm so bad at dodging things and maybe then i'll make it different #because it will be very hard to make a game that i am not capable of playing #mypost

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #billy burn 2019 #billy burn x you #billy x reader #billy burn #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson billy #josh hutcherson burn #josh hutcherson burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson imagine #billy burn imagine

[writefinch]

FRIENDLY CHAT

Hey! Sorry to pull you in here before your break, we just need a quick chat. So, long story short, uh, a customer complained that you point-blank offered him a condom.

This isn't the first time. You know it's against company policy. You're only supposed to get them if the customer requests it first. Like, you're not even supposed to have them on display. I know that part is stupid, but if the regional manager checks the tapes and sees condom bowls in plain view, I'd still get written up.

No, no, absolutely not, I'm not going to write you up. I don't think it's necessary and you know it goes totally against my management style. I want to talk through your concerns.

I wanna remind you that we take all the recommended industry-standard precautions. In fact we go above them! First off, you're fully vaxxed, and that's the end of ninety percent of things to worry about, period. You've got an IUD on the company health plan, even though your T-shots probably suppress it. The customers get a physical screen in the waiting area. All us boys and girlies get tested every three weeks, twice as frequent as the industry standard.

That's already extensive, it makes you safer than the vast majority of people in our line of work. If we did any more, customers will get the wrong idea. They'll think we're an unclean brothel with unclean customers. It'd remind them too much of all the you-know-what from the past few years.

Yes, you're not wrong about that. Breakthrough infections happen, and people get sick. But you know what I'm gonna say? You're very robust, you know that? You've been here for what, eighteen months, you've been pulling long hours and beacoup extra shifts and you've barely caught a sniffle. The testosterone must be helping!

Now you might not stay this lucky forever, that's why we have six paid sick days and a flexible admin rota. Usually when you catch something it'll be a mild itch and trouble peeing. You won't even wanna rest, and yeah you won't get the full rate for paid clients, you can still get paid to do the laundry and the paperwork for a week while it clears up.

Every year I get a couple of colds from my kids and take three or four days off, and every year I always get a VD from one of the clients and spend a week washing sheets and cleaning dildos. You know what that gives me? Two or three days rolled over into vacation time!

Yes, you can get unlucky. You can get a couple of back-to-back infections. I tell every boy and girl who starts here the same thing: before they take out a loan on a new car or move out of their toxic roommate situation, make sure to get two weeks pay in a savings account. Even if you do have to dip into your rainy day fund, you know full well that there's always extra shifts to pick up around here.

Yeah, you can catch something nasty. You can have a bad reaction. We all remember how scary it was before the vaccines were available. But here's the thing: you drive to work, right? You're on the freeway twice a day. Forty-thousand people die every year in car crashes, and tens of thousands more get life-changing injuries. You don't spend every day worrying about that, right?

You just get on with it and live your life.

Look, I'm really sorry about this whole thing. You're really special to me, you know that? You're a genuine friend to me, I mean that. We get on really well, all the girls love you, you're a hit with clients and that's why I jumped on this y'know? This job is only as fun as the people here make it, and I don't want to see you written up for something that can be talked out.

Discipline here is so stupid. I'm fucking sick of the owners hassling girls, and boys, out of working here and then crying and bitching when we can't meet customer demand.

I said I'd be out of here as soon as I get my HVAC cert but if they put us all through that again I'll just quit on the spot. That's why I want to look out for you. You've helped me through some really difficult times, on shift and off. I wouldn't have been able to get through junket season without you. I'm serious, if you hadn't joined when you did, there'd be gun laws named after me.

Thanks for listening, and again, I'm sorry for even bringing this stuff up. Just promise you'll keep what I've said in mind? We've all got to look out for each other here.

Hey, once you're back from break, can I have your help with something? I've got a no-refusal client and well, all the other girls refused. What? No I don't want you to take him, c'mon man I'm not gonna let you off a written warning to guilt you into picking up my shit, honestly! No, I'm the supervisor on shift so it's up to me.

Anyway he's not into boys, even pretty ones like you, sorry. But he's a real charmer, so would you mind sticking close in case he starts throwing up or throwing hands? If I have to hit the panic button I think Sergei will throw him out of a window, and nobody needs that headache.

Thanks, I really appreciate it. We'll be in the spa room, so let me know when you're ready to play pool boy…

#stories

[squadrah]

Hello, if you don't mind me asking for your thoughts on all members of La Squadra being bridal carried by their lil (secretly buffy but not really) SO. Sorry my english might be mixed up and I really like your ways of characterized the team <3

Never apologize for your English! I'm not a native speaker and even if I were, I would never judge. Thank you for the kind words, too! SO stuff isn't my strong suit but I'll give it a shot!

Risotto: I think the best time was actually the first time, when he was exceedingly shocked and incredulous, and then just said, "Ah, I see. You are strong," and allowed himself to be carried until the SO got weak in the knees. He would allow the bridal carry as long as the SO was in perfect health and if he wanted to make a point of demonstrating their strength to someone.

Formaggio: He would find it pretty funny and allow it as long as he was in a good mood, but he would want to return the favor, so when the SO put him down, they could expect to be picked up. A shrunken-to-practical-size Formaggio would definitely be carried about like that whenever he got drunk off his ass, and he would appreciate the lift even more in that state, so everybody wins here.

Prosciutto: He would be extremely angry if he was picked up without his consent, so it's best to preserve the moment for times when he is out of commission or deep asleep and has to be moved. He doesn't care to bridal carry anyone and won't be wooed by such a gesture even in a good mood - he is a bit of a killjoy that way. He won't say a word though if he is genuinely in need of being carried.

Pesci: This one is more of a hopeless romantic, mostly on account of believing that genuinely romantic moments are out of his reach due to his appearance and his anxious fumbling, so if he were to be picked up, he would first be surprised and then very flustered about it. His heart would swell with ardor to be strong too so he could be there for the SO who could lift him and carry him so tenderly.

Ghiaccio: Another one who would detest being carried, as he resents being held in a way that doesn't allow him to easily move away. He would have to be coaxed into it as either a trust exercise or actual physical exercise, so there would be equal amounts of bridal carry on both ends, and he would still insist that over the shoulder is a way better method of transporting a body, so... there you go.

Melone: His surprise would be much more animated and positive than the others' - he would find such a display of strength interesting and intriguing, and he would happily let the SO carry him until they gave out and had to put him down. He would thoughtfully count the steps taken and chat to the SO about how reassuring it is to have someone so capable around, which is pretty rewarding.

Illuso: He likes the concept of the bridal carry, but he is too much of a drama queen to allow it under ordinary circumstances; it would have to be done at the right moment and with the right amount of flair, and the flex would feel quite different from what Risotto might aim for. Also he is somewhat stingy and would have to be begged to return the favor. His smugness about it is somewhat endearing.

Sorbet: He is lukewarm on the concept because he's not a traditional romantic, but he would find it an acceptable way of being carried into bed, and would probably opt for the bridal carry as his position of choice if he also felt the drama rumble in his blood, or if he was incapacitated and had to be carried. Allow him to hang limp and lifeless from the SO's arms for the best effect.

Gelato: He doesn't seem to think the bridal carry very special, though he understands that it is something couples might do, and therefore would consider it as proof of love if he were carried. He's a very good sport about it, but he wouldn't make it easy: he knows how to squeeze back and wiggle if he wants to be an ass for fun, so let's hope the SO is both buff enough and not very ticklish.

#jjba #la squadra #risotto nero #formaggio #prosciutto #pesci #ghiaccio #melone #illuso #sorbet #gelato #squadrah headcanons #squadrah original #squadrah ships #not sure if i ever tagged SO type stuff with ships but why not #it is certainly in that ball park #hope you enjoy!

[bengiyo]

The Warp Effect Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

The Week of Jojo Part 2 begins. Last week, Army agreed to be the sperm donor for Nim, Mollie and Nim had a good moment during the training for the film that totally left Bew jealous, See-ew stepped out on Liu and ended up arrested for making porn, Liu broke up with See-ew in a scene that was fantastic between Sing and Clize, and Captain beat the shit out of Kat for not wanting to be his partner.

I'm glad we're staring with Kat. What happened to her was upsetting, and I wanted to check on her first.

It's interesting how Kat displays a wide array of feelings here, but annoyance, irritation, and offense come through most strongly.

All of Kat's girls came to check on her, but she doesn't want to be a victim. She is totally right to be frustrated that she was attacked after making her boundaries clear.

So now she'll flirt with Jean (who is apparently bi!) as a tease? I need this to become more than teasing!

I like Jean. Just because something bad happened to Kat doesn't mean she's gonna let Alex back in.

Army is lovesick, and also frustrated that Joe won't switch. So glad we're having frank conversation about the relationship dynamics in gay relationships about sex. Army is right that bottoming is tiring, and doing it all the time is exhausting. I'm curious how they'll explore Joe's reticence about the act. Just don't turn this into Cucumber, because I'll never forgive Russel T. Davies for that.

Alex is the straight guy determined to get his gay friend laid. We've come such a long way.

Cutting between Kim and Nim about the pregnancy tests was a neat touch. Kim's is unexpected, and I don't think Nim is pregnant yet.

I kinda like this plot with Bew. Lesbians can have poorly planned pregnancies, too. Bew may be jealous about Mollie, but the callous attitude about the baby is concerning.

Joe needs to do things away from this school more often, and everyone else needs to stop trying to make Joe talk about gay shit in the locker room of the school he works at.

Ah, Joe is a side. I appreciate that he doesn't like anal sex; I don't think it's required. I also don't like the bar and club scene. I just worry about the self-fulfilling nature of Joe's sense that he doesn't belong anywhere. You have to find your people.

I want to see Silvy whip ass in this film they're working on.

So Bew really left. TRASH. How do you look like Dichen Lachman and let me down like this??

"I remember all of it." Mollie, please never say that to your ex if you're trying to maintain a platonic relationship.

Jean stressing repeatedly that Kim's health and safety is more important than the set is exactly how more places should be. I will accept less shows less often if it means the people making it aren't suffering.

I just don't think the doctor should have told Jean that Kim is pregnant though? Seems like that's private information.

Oh, this is an interesting way for this plot to develop. Jean, who I suspect has had an abortion, doesn't foist that choice upon him. Kim admits she's not ready to start a family, and doesn't believe Ice is either. Kim doesn't hide the pregnancy from Ice, and he immediately rallies to become a dad and parent with Kim, much to her chagrin.

Kat is tough in front of others, but I am not surprised she's nervous in parking garages now.

Gosh, almost every scene has a blue hue to it this week. It's like watching Eyewitness again.

Mmm, unsure how I feel about Kat opening herself up to more with Alex immediately after beginning recovery.

Tony stay shooting his shots with Jean.

Alright, I do think it's important for us to talk about men's health and making sure they actually get it from professionals. However! Army knows Alex is not actually trained as a doctor right now, so what are the ethics here??

This and Between Us acknowledging bathroom stalls as their position in gay sexual history. I wonder if I'll have to write about this at the end of this year.

I get why Army stayed friends with Alex. He's very affectionate for a straight man.

Jojo really loves to fuck with the audience. Kat snuggles in with Alex, considering what it might be like to be serious with him, only for Alex to call out for Jean in his sleep.

I really like the exploration of the sensual potential of outercourse with Army and Joe. With how much BL misrepresents the physical considerations of penetrative sex, this feels necessary.

Also, in terms of the narrative, I like that Army's problem is solved by reconciliation with the first boy he really hurt and reaching equilibrium with him.

This fictional scene of Rose and Liu enabling Kat to curb stomp Captain is making me think of I May Destroy You (2022). I'm feeling a deep surge of complex feelings. Of course, her girls are here to support her.

Love that Kat's problem wasn't solved by choosing a guy.

Oh good, we're returning to Rose and Jedi next week. Not showing him in the bar felt intentional.

#the warp effect #thai drama #jojo tichakorn #Ben watches

[bcbdrums]

Rewatching the show atm, I never really realized how shitty Kim can be to Ron sometimes. She locked him in a closet in "Crush" to go to a dance with Josh (even though it was Ron who gave her the courage to ask him out), lied and ditched him on Halloween for Josh again, signed him up to work at Bueno Nacho without asking him then got mad when he does better then her at the job(this seems to happen whenever he's better then her at anything, it's like she can't fathom him being good at things). I sometimes get the feeling she takes him for granted.

I'm not saying Ron is some saint, he's lied many times,stolen from her, ditched her when he got popular, etc but at the end of most of those episodes, he would learn a lesson or his behavior was called out, either by Kim or someone else, alot of Kims actions are never called out and she rarely learns from them. I've seen your HC for Post series(Kimron go to separate schools and they both grow individually), what exactly do you think they both need to improve on, and do my complaints about Kim factor into it or all?

Great questions, Anon. I'll start by saying that all the examples you gave of Kim treating Ron poorly were from the first season of the show. Looking at it externally, we can say the writers were still figuring out the characters and their dynamic. Internally, I think to think that Kim was younger then and in that awkward stage where she wasn't quite sure how she thought of Ron... Still just best friend, or boyfriend material? And lashing out were ways an entitled teen girl displayed that at times.

As the series goes on, yes she's surprised by things he's good at at times, and sometimes it's justified (Naked Genius) but most of the time it seems to me that it's just...occasions where their interests diverge. Cooking as an example. Part of her surprise I think comes naturally from her having known Ron her entire life. And as he demonstrates new abilities she's unaware of, some of it just because...she may think she should know this already, or she knows it can't possibly be...she finds it hard to believe.  But we see in the show that they do indeed have other friends and other interests, and they don't know every single thing about each other. So Kim being surprised at a few of his abilities is justified in that way.  If you remove the world-saving, it’s actually a good picture of a healthy, stable best-friendship.

I find that the longer the show goes on, the better she treats him. It really was just sometimes in season one, and part of it comes from her entitled personality and overall a semi-conscious thinking that she's better than him. Not as a human, but just...better at stuff.  She’s used to him being not so good at stuff.  Like, you’d think either he or his parents would have thought to get him a belt long before Kim bought him one for their half-aversary...  Only other obvious instance of her treating him poorly would be Clean Slate where she won’t believe he’s her boyfriend.  And then her “I think I love you” was so...not her.  And that will relate to things I talk about later.

Moving on to the second part of your question, them going to separate schools and needing to improve individually so they can be their best selves for each other...  Well, Ron needs to man up.  In such a way that if Kim were permanently gone from his life, he’d still be okay.  I think that despite the health of their friendship there’s still a strong co-dependency there because they have never had to go it alone.  He needs to find that part of himself that can do life without Kim, plain and simple.  He has skills, interests, curiosities...  He just needs to let her go in order to best be there for her later, if that makes sense.  He can’t be his best self if he’s always the side-kick, and if he thinks it’s all for her in the end.  He needs to be Ron for Ron, and in that way he can be the best whatever for Kim in the future.  And I think he’ll be fine, actually.  He’s had to live a largely independent life already, with his parents being seemingly absent a lot and lacking relationship with him (”this is our way of telling you”).  He’s not used to having it all together.  He’s used to the side-kick role, and thus is more prepared to face life on his own.

With Kim it’s deeper, and no your complaints about her don’t really fit into it.  It’s two-fold, starting with the fact she’s always had everything handed to her.  And I don’t mean this in a...’down with wealthy people,’ sort of way.  But I do mean she’s never had to work her way up from the bottom, doesn’t know what it’s like to be there...  Even with saving the world, Wade has everything ready for her.  She doesn’t know what it’s like to lose, to come in second place...  Not in anything that actually matters, at least.  It would be great for her to go to a college where no one knows the name Kim Possible.  To just be one of the crowd.  To not stand out in the slightest, to have to work just as hard as everyone else with all the same expectations.  No ‘get out of school free card’ because she’s off saving the world from a comical villain.  Actually failing classes perhaps since she’s never in class.  Losing sleep.  Just being an average human.

And with that, there’s her whole identity thing, which I thought was a good thing about the live-action movie.  They honed in on the fact that without saving the world, who is she?  Well, in the cartoon...that’s all she is.  Cheerleader?  That fades.  Even if she cheers in college, it’s not gonna be her profession..  Babysitter?  Nope, not an identity nor profession she’d want.  What Ron has going for him is that he knows who he is even though too much of himself is rooted in co-dependency on Kim.  Kim...doesn’t have anything else.  The show teased the idea of her going to an overseas college, or in Job Unfair she was interested in international diplomacy.  But really...those were just things they tossed in to give her a direction, but is it who she really is?  It doesn’t come across that way when it’s just thrown in like that.  Do we think action-oriented, thinks-she-knows-everything Kim is going to sit at a desk in a suit doing what that sort of job actually entails for the rest of her life?  Um, no.  So she has to let go of the co-dependency on Ron and actually find out who she is when she isn’t saving the world.  She needs to be an average person.  The overlooked.  The side-kick.

It feels like with the way they had her character not really develop, she’s got two choices:  join Global Justice and get paid to do what she already does, but with severe limitations.  Or else she’s in for a very early mid-life crisis since she has rooted her entire childhood in the mantra of “I can do anything” which privilege and wealth, along with skill and intelligence, allowed her to do.

Is it great that her parents could offer her so many opportunities?  Yes.  But they never showed her any hardship.  She also never really had relational hardships.  Most popular girl in school, has a couple of besties, and the frenemies thing with Bonnie wasn’t that deep.  This is an instance where I think kicking the kid out the door at age eighteen would be good.  Give her a dose of the real world with no Wade or rich family to bail her out, and no Ron to be that anchor to a life without real responsibility.  She needs to stop saving the world for awhile, honestly.  She’s got to explore interests besides boys and shopping, and discover what it’s like to be a human.  Which is what makes me circle back to “I think I love you.”  Kim in her amnesia state?  Is still the ‘too cool to date nerds’ cheerleader personality.  When it comes down to it, part of “I can do anything” also means “I’m better than everyone” and I don’t think she even realizes this consciously.  That’s something else she’s gotta work past.

I know this post is now probably going to offend everyone who worships Kim.  Don’t get me wrong, I love her too.  I just recognize that she’s a kid with a lot of room for growth.  And I guess I don’t see that growth happening easily.  This is probably why I haven’t really been interested in writing fic for Kim?  While character growth piques my interest, it’s more work in her case than I’m interested in doing.  She was just too shallow of a character.  Ron, on the other hand...  I could see myself writing an epic or two about him.

Hope I articulated well enough, and hope this answers your questions!

#kim possible #ron stoppable #meta #kimron #kimxron #kim x ron #kim/ron

[nevada-wrytes]

Chapter 7 - But It Isn't My Fault

Content warnings: decay, rot, bugs, death mention

link for the previous chapter and link for the next chapter

Raven walked up to the receptionist desk. The being behind it was ancient. Although she appeared humanoid, the body she wore looked like it was going through intense stages of rot all at once.

Her face sagged to one side, flesh green and black and oozing. In places where it peeled back, he could see bleached bones and squirming maggots. Her eyes too, seemed to leave their sockets as bugs crawled in and out of every hole in her skin. She didn't seem to mind, though.

"Hello Decay," Raven grumbled.

Her mouth moved in a smile, displaying a checkerboard of yellow and black teeth. "Hello Ravey!" She mused. Her voice sounded more like a buzz, he wasn't sure her vocal cords were even still intact.

Her smile soon vanished as she began to scold him. "Is this how you greet your Auntie? I haven't seen you in so long! You haven't gone to the workers' retreat with us for a while, you don't come to company parties anymore, you know all of your other siblings do."

She pouted with her puffy black lips. Raven didn't feel sorry for her.

"Sorry, Auntie. I'll try to stop by more often. I'm just very busy— maybe next time-"

"Ah, I'm just messing with you," she buzzed, grin returning. "Here to see good ol' Dad?"

"I'm here to see Death."

"Yup, mhm." Her skeletal fingers tapped on a keyboard in front of her. There was no screen, so Raven didn't know what she was looking at, until a scroll burst in front of her, unfurling with some ancient technology. The tech in this place desperately needed an upgrade by the looks of it.

"Looks like the boss in a meeting right now, you'll have to wait— er- nope. Hold on." She did some more tapping, squinting so much her eyebrows formed one solid like that some maggots could crawl over like a balance beam.

Raven watched a larvae crawl out of her hair and drop down onto the desk. He gagged. No way that followed building health and safety codes.

Decay hummed. "It looks like his schedule just cleared up. Strange. Anyway, maybe he's expecting you. You're welcome to go in then, I suppose."

"Great." Raven bid her goodbye and approached the grand doors. They were carved from the same stone that made up most of this fortress, black and inky like the void, but inlaid with designs and motifs carved out of bones. Ivy wrapped around the solid doors, with delicate amber flowers and smooth, coal vines. Raven took a breath. Then two, then four. His body didn't even need to breathe but liked the comfort.

Decay pretended to cough, an easy way of telling him to hurry up, so he at least knocked.

The doors slid apart on their own.

Raven stepped in. They closed behind him with a thud. He thought he heard a lock click.

៴

The office was a long rectangular room with three walls of windows and a perfect view of the dazzling city below. Somehow the fog didn't bother hiding from things from view up here.

In the center was a long meeting table, and at the end, the overseer of this entire realm, Death, sat in a high backed office chair, as if it were a throne.

Most people are curious what death will look like in the end. Will it be like a mother welcoming you home? Cruel and cold like a harsh blizzard ruining your crops? Or something else entirely?

When Raven stared right at Death in the face, he saw himself, or someone he didn't want to be.

Although it wasn't exactly like looking into a mirror— Death was much older with lines around his brows and wrinkles in his forehead— they had the same expression. Coal black eyes that hid cunning and strength in their depths, the slight tilt of the mouth as when he was about to pull something stupid, and a big curved nose that screamed power. And although Death's hair was short and gelled back in a respectable, businesslike manner, it still fell into his face the same way Raven's did.

Death, like always, was waiting for him, leaning back in his chair as if he never had a care in the world. He didn't invite Raven to join him at the table, so Raven kept his distance at the opposite end. It felt like they were separated by miles yet breatha apart.

"Raven." Death's voice wasn't cold, but commanding. As a father’s would be.

Here we go. Raven got ready for the scolding. How much would he have to do to make up for his mistakes? Maybe Death would put him on guard duty, something only lower spirits like Arcane or Neroli do, just to embarrass him. As if making him come all the way here with his tail between his legs wasn't enough.

Death shuffled the papers in front of him. "Come, sit."

Raven quirked a brow. That was a new one. Did Death need to get close and personal while he spelled out his public humiliation?

Like an obedient servant, Raven approached Death. But he didn't sit down, he perched by his shoulder, so he could see the papers, but it would be awkward for Death to grab him without wasting time turning around.

Death didn't bother turning his head around, anyway.

"There's been a problem."

"Oh? Has there?"

Raven didn't know Death was such a good father to check in on him and see how he's been skipping work to fool around. Now he suddenly cares— when his reputation is in the line.

Death must have noticed his tone, because he made a hmph sound, but didn't comment. "The Library of Souls have notified me that multiple books have gone missing. And normally, this isn't a pressing issue, but the Librarians are unable to retrieve them."

Raven thought about those scary Librarians and all their teeth and claws. "Yikes. What poor soul is stealing from the library? You sure it's not just someone forgetting to return them? I could name a few absent minded researchers who might do something like that.”

Then Death did something weird. He turned to look him in the eyes. Raven shivered.

"That's the problem. We don't know why they are missing. No spells or searches have yielded any results."

"Damn. Well, I don't see how this applies to me so…”

A pause. "Come back."

Raven huffed. He stepped back over from where he sneakily tried to make a break for it.

Death turned back to his paperwork. "You're job is to go look for the missing souls and find the one responsible-"

"And make them pay and yada yada yada. I know. But this is hardly in my jurisdiction— I mean, can't you get one of the scholars to do it? Why should I care about a few lost souls-"

Death opened a manilla folder. Raven's face blanched. That shut him up good.

Inside were some photos, charcoal drawings, and pencil sketches displaying bodies in various states of decay. And names, every one, felt like a cut that ran deep. Death flipped through the pages, there were too many he recognized. The last one, a cute girl in braids and a puffy dress. Raven thought he was going to be sick.

"See where you come in now?"

"Oh Mother-" Raven sobered up. "You can't possibly believe I'm the one stealing the souls— I haven't even stepped foot here in months-"

"I know." Death pulled out another case file, but Raven didn't recognize the picture. It was dark, barely legible, but there was a person in it. And there was something about their face that seemed almost- familiar.

"It's curious how, not all, but many of the souls that are missing somehow tie back to you. Or him." Death geatured to the person in the photo. Something in Raven's brain clicked.

"That's another Child, isn't it?"

"You're half brother, to be exact. He's been hidden away for so long, but now that he's finally out of hiding-" Death had a far away look on his face.

He snapped back into reality. "I don't really care that the missing souls are your ex lovers. It's not really difficult considering you've dated half a continent."

Damn. That hurt.

"But him." Death looked back at the photograph. He caressed it gently. Raven ignored the pang of something in his gut. "You'll see soon. There hasn't been one like him in a while. It's his first mission, so I expect you to look after him."

Raven huffed, again. "So I'm on babysitting duty? That's it? You made it seem like I was in trouble for missing work-" as soon as Raven said that, regret hit him like a semi truck. Death turned to face him, a smirk on his face.

"Oh? What’s this I hear about missing work?"

Raven's face turned red.

"Well, then consider this an ample punishment. You do this, and I'll forget about you having to make up for your time off, deal?"

Raven gulped. He hated deals. "Okay."

Death clapped his hands together. "Now that that's settled, I need you gone. You'll find your half brother waiting outside the library at the witching hour, today, so don't be late.

Raven nodded and turned to leave. He made it as far as getting a hand on the doors before Death called him again.

"His name is Vincent, by the way.” His voice bellowed across the long room.

The doors opened and shut behind Raven as he stepped out. The reception desk was empty, with a little sign that read, stepped out in red marker taped to the front.

Raven ignored it and went to the elevator.

Vincent.

That name left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Hello! A little author's note, if you don't mind. The last few chapters have been very heavy world building wise and I want feedback from you all on your thoughts so far! I'll be posting a QnA here instead of a normal chapter (because the next one is going to take a while to write) so please submit your questions! They can be about this story, about myself, or directed to specific characters- they'd love to answer for themselves too. Just ask your question either in the notes of this post or in my askbox, thank you!!

Tag list! (ask to be added/removed) @oc-writing-corner @thebonecarver @victorfrankingstein @confused-as-all-hell @iambecomeyourvillain @brekkercookie @purpl-cryptid @reyyya @thecurlychameleon @naz-yalensky @thesexypanda-boo @kazoo-the-demjin @twelve-kinds-of-trouble @irishyacinths

#oc writing #raven nv #writing #my writing #nevada writes #yes the title is an into the woods reference tehe #also you're finally meeting the boss!! he's.. yeah he's a character

[compassionatereminders]

This is a vent, however I welcome ALL suggestions or thoughts. I appreciate different perspectives.

I have cptsd following an unhealthy family and a long and abusive marriage. I'm in therapy, I'm steadily working on myself and on building my new life as a single parent. My current partner is diagnosed with avoidant personality disorder. They also display MANY characteristics of BPD. (The two disorders do have overlapping symptoms, so do knows)

It is very hard to stay. Much of the bad times are very similar to the mental abuse in my marriage. It's hard to trust my own judgment and memory, and it's also hard to believe the kindness that I experience in the good times. When things are good, it's great! When things start getting difficult, I try to show care and love. They don't make it easy to do though. I'll do 5 caring type things, and it's the 6th thing I should have done that gets all the attention and anger. When things are bad, I am treated like the problem, I am snapped at, I walk on eggshells to keep things calm and then I'm snapped at for walking on eggshells. Help, but don't over help. Give attention, but also don't give any. Engage in conversation, but don't overwhelm and also don't take anything personal when the entire conversation is sharp, critical, occasionally explosive, and dismissive.

The weaknesses I'm working on are mocked or criticized, and then excused away as me making assumptions. And then I get depressed, I feel cloudy headed, I think the bad thoughts I have worked through in therapy. The bad times provoke me and then I regress.

Good times are great. We do things people do *together* rather than isolated and ignored as I was before. Displays is affection. Help when I need it and don't know how to ask. Compliments. Support for my personal goals. Support when I'm feeling defeated or stuck. Laughing, playing games, watching movies. The stuff people do with their partners that I never got to do in my whole life. So much good.

It feels like the effects of my partner's mental illness is reliving my past abuses. My ex did this negative stuff to maintain coercive control and ego. I was essentially a servant at home and a trophy at career events. My current partner does this with cyclic moods or following stressful events and when I'm needed for shielding. Their individual motivations may be different, but the effects on me seem to be the same.

I don't want to end an important relationship with a truly loving, carrying, devoted person. I also don't want to continue living my life on someone else's emotional rollercoaster. Loving someone with mental illness is hard, and I don't want to let the bad stuff ruin the good stuff. I want to better handle the bad times but I haven't figured that out yet. Being logical and predictable with a person in an illogical state is so hard, especially when I'm being blamed and nit-picked. I'm worried I won't figure it out and I'll go right back to the way I was before I left my ex. I want to work with this rather than let it break me, or break us. It's just so hard to see the difference between illness vs abuse when they are so similar.

I'm sad and tired and angry and fed up and sad again.

-D

Thank you for providing a space to vent. I don't know who to talk to right now but I need to talk to someone, or at least let it out. I appreciate that this is a space to do so.

I think that the relationship you're describing here sounds very toxic and unhealthy, and that even if your current partner is a genuinely well-intentioned person who is only acting out because of their mental health issues, that still doesn't mean you should put up with being mistreated like this. Because facts are that for these toxic patterns to actually get resolved, your partner needs to fully realize and take responsibility for changing their behavior - and if they aren't capable of and/or willing to lift that task, nothing you can say or do will make the relationship healthy and safe. So you gotta ask yourself whether your partner is ready to really, truly face their issues and actively work on themselves or whether it's time to walk away. Because there's no shame in walking away from someone who can't treat you right. No, not even if they aren't hurting you on purpose.

#chat with kat #abuse tw

[papirouge]

You know, I saw a post on le Reddit that said something like "when you have depression but you're not a girl so nobody cares" in a "funny memes" subreddit with like 10.000 likes or so. I disagree with the statement, so I went to the comments, and to my surprise, most comments were calling OP out. Like it was full of women commenting things like "Uh, they don't care if you're a woman either", "Today I learnt I'm a man", "They only care if they want to fuck you and that might be worse actually", "yeah, because women care for each other and men dismiss other men issues", and so on.

Reddit leans male, so I was surprised at seeing so many women stand for themselves, and getting upvoted to the top. Some men even commented and said that the reason women get help its because other women care, while men usually dismiss each other feelings. Some even said the only people that cared were women. Like even men were calling him out...

That got me thinking.... I used to really support the whole "men mental health matter too!!", and I still do like I support womens, but many men are pretty dismisive of women mental health. You know, how some men say they want a crazy gf because they think she'll be hypersexual and so they can manipulate her... most likely, they'd get a depressed or anxious woman, the two most common mental health problems in women, and I bet they wouldnt like the depressed woman lack of sexual apetite and the anxious woman fear.

It makes me go back to the time I tried to kill myself and ended up in the hospital. The only people that visited were my female relatives and friends. My dad, nephew and uncle never went. And I just rationalized as them being less likely to show their emotions... in fact, my sister and mom basically agreed and said something like "men just don't how to deal with these things because we women are more in tune with our feelings." When I came back, neither my uncle nor my nephew hugged me or told me they were glad I was back... nothing. And again, they're pretty cold, it's how they are, but I wonder if a man would give women the benefit of the doubt if they didn't show up at such a difficult moment.

You know, maybe we would take male mental health a bit more seriously if the only times they mentioned it they didn't bring women in some sort of mental struggle Olympics. It gives off the impression they're bringing it up more to suck up to women than out of genuine concern for male mental healthcare.

I'm so sorry for your awful uncle & nephews. We don't chose our family but we can definitely chose who we let a place into our life and I think this experience was a wake up call for you. Your aunt acting like basic empathy (such as visiting a relative) was just a feminine 'emotional energy thing' is tragic though lol

Men constantly show their emotions by harassing, raping and killing women. I'll never forget why some men have less problem lashing out their toxic emotions (screaming, lusting) while being so shy to display the good ones (empathy, caring, etc.). It's less about masculinity and more about sociopathy imo.

#answered

[kuuyandere]

"you're not allowed to leave" was actually a gift to my darling since I felt bad at the beginnin I couldn't express how much I love him, heck I choked on the words "I love you" for a long time, despite the fact I'd get anxious everytime he was gone... sometimes I still do... I may be heavily obsessive, but I can freeze up, esp given when my darlin is actually heavily affectionate with me. I think before I actually said "you're not allowed to leave" as a way to say "I love you". although not a girl, you would be right about me typically bein more popular and fallin in love with my darlin who was completely socially outcasted, so I guess that could be "next door boy"? but yea, that playlist I guess was my first real display of love for him in our relationship despite the fact I literally spent years tryin to track him down after we were seperated for a while due to some life circumstances + we used to fight a lot (that could also play into my tsundereness... not used to not havin to constantly put up a guard and feelin vunerable is embarassin even if I do love him so much)

while I'm here, I'll also say emo boy was also a gift for him and probably is my weirdest playlist hsjdhdh

as for bunnyboy and lost cause, I typically do kind of have that "goin insane" type of thing in a lot of my yan playlists, since for me yandereism isnt a constant, but rather a reflection of my slippin mental health. if I'm doin well, I actually don't display or have any yandere urges/characteristics and typically default to tsundere.

you may also notice "you're not allowed to leave" was my first playlist that ended on a happy note... the magical wonders of oh fuck I love him HSKSHDH and also despite our really rough past, we are kind of that gross couple always all over each other and doesn't shut up abt how much we love each other, but I also think that part of why we love so much and resolve our issues so fast.... is an element of fear. we're both yanderes codependent on each other and can't function without each other, so lettin things even get slightly bad is super terrifyin for the both of us and we typically back down very easily when the other voices bein upset. is it healthy? idk hsjdhdh ~🎵

You and your darling sound really lovely together, I am happy for you! I am also glad that you sound a lot happier about him than how you described some of your previous relationships, despite the tough beginning and the possibly-unhealthy conflict resolution you mentioned. I know how it can be difficult to vocalize how much you love someone at first (I say from personal experience), like even though it may be the most obvious thing for you, expressing affection in words is vulnerable as you said, and I think making playlists dedicated to him was a sweet way to show that!

emo boy: This playlist starts more grungy and chaotic ("messy", for lack of a better word) and progressively gets more sweet and cheery, even getting higher in overall pitch towards the end. I think all the songs were connected as well by having more technological/electronic background music with synth sounds and vocal editing. I am curious as to why you say this one is your weirdest one!

blood on my teddy bear: This playlist is probably my second favourite after the first one you made (despite how cringey you say it is). It definitely has some edge, starting off a bit more unhinged with songs that have vocal distortion and a heavy beat. The middle of the playlist almost feels dreamlike with an echoey nature and soft synth snare(?) line. That part reminds me of lying on a hardwood floor staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night and feeling like you're falling, or late night drives and speeding down empty stretches of road with nothing but the windows cracked open for the wind as ambient noise. It feels like isolation, emptiness, silence maybe while passively thinking about violence. Then the last song is more sweet and positive while still keeping the drum theme. I believe you mentioned having a narrative element in this playlist, I wonder what your original thoughts and intentions were!

#your yandere #aidoneus asks #yandere playlist #🎵 anon

[thepoeticfox]

Yesterday was kinda awful.

I drove an hour and a half one way to visit my mother, whom I deeply dislike, and Maps took me through a city I hate driving in bc the interstate through the middle is always really fucked up. And it's not just the lane closures and detours, it's also the fact that people are driving bumper to bumper at high speeds on very bumpy (but newish) pavement in narrow lanes. For real, if you give a safe follow distance to the car in front of you, people will fill that gap. It's amazing there isn't a pileup every day.

I also ended up a ways behind a semi that kept losing those great big wipe plastic sheets that flutter and float like tarp. The game of "oh shit why is everyone slowing down, I don't see lights?" and then seeing some poor guy in a (normal size) truck try not to get it wrapped around his axles.... was weird once but then it happened again.

In my mother's city, someone tried to cross the road to merge their truck with my car, and I am grateful to have decent reflexes. If he hadn't stopped bc of my horn, if he had kept going, all that he would've done was maybe take out my driver's side headlight and seriously piss me off, cause I had basically stopped. He heard my horn and corrected himself into the turning lane (which he had to cross anyway) and I zoomed off.

On the way back, I was taken back through Bad Interstate City where I had no idea what lane to be in and performed two of those god awful "please don't brake" merges where I'm also kissing the ass of the vehicle in front of me. Blinkers! Blinkers helped! They warned people "I desperately need in that lane now!" I never ever ever intend to do that again. I will just be lost by taking the wrong exit ramp, fuckit.

All of this combined with the weather, of fucking course, gave me a migraine. Might also be the laundry stripper stuff I started using bc my clothes were smelling musty no matter what I did. Adhd makes it hard to do laundry in a timely way, alright? Well this stuff has a scent. "Original" I was hoping, praying, meant "very little fragrance" but noooo. "But Fae, why not just get unscented?" Because they didn't have it at my store.

Fucking awful traffic, my mother, more awful traffic, perfume in my face for hours, and shifty weather. Migraine cocktail.

Did have a pretty interesting time playing Call of Cthulu, even with the migraine, though. our GM is sensitive to the migraine issues, we are chronic health buddies, so he understands the desire to push a little and have some fun. He knows I'll excuse myself if I'm too poorly.

I did get some food, hydration, salt, and caffeine in me before taking a nap when game was called early bc of family stuff on his side, so I am feeling a bit better. I think showering and changing out of the perfumed clothes also helped.

I've had a fucking day, and now I am going to relax in my nice pretty office space and figure out how to store/display all these paints in a way that matches my aesthetic <3

#long post #rambles

[nevada-but-everywhere]

sneaky Raven chapter for the real ones

Chapter 7 - But It Isn't My Fault

Raven walked up to the receptionist desk. The being behind it was old and oozing. Although she appeared humanoid, the body she was wearing looked like it was going through intense stages of rot. Her face sagged to one side, flesh green and black and oozing. In places where it peeled back, he could see bleached bones and maggots squirming about. Her eyes too, seemed to leave their sockets as bugs crawled in and out of every hole in her skin. She didn't seem to mind, though.

"Hello Decay," Raven grumbled.

She pursed her lips. "Hello Ravey!" Her mouth moved in a smile, displaying a checkerboard of yellow and black teeth. Her voice sounded more like a buzz, vocal cords long since gone.

"Is this how you greet your Auntie? I haven't seen you in so long! You haven't gone to the workers' retreat with us for a while, you don't come to company parties anymore, you know all of your other siblings."

She pouted as she said this. Raven didn't feel sorry for her.

"Sorry, Auntie. I'll try harder. I'm just very busy— maybe next time-"

"Ah, I'm just messing with you," she buzzed. "Here to see good ol' Dad?"

"I'm here to see Death."

"Yup, mhm." Her skeletal fingers tapped on a keyboard in front of her. There was no screen, so Raven didn't know what she was looking at, until a scroll burst in front of her, unfurling with some ancient technology. The tech in this place desperately needed an upgrade by the looks of it.

"Looks like the boss in a meeting right now, you'll have to wait— er- nope. Hold on." She did some more tapping, squinting so that her eyebrows came together.

Raven watched a larvae crawl out of her hair and drop down onto the desk. He gagged. No way that follows building health and safety codes.

Decay hummed. "It looks like his schedule just cleared up. Strange. Anyway, maybe he's expecting you. You're welcome to go in then, I suppose."

"Great." Raven bid her goodbye and approached the grand doors. They were carved from the same stone that made up most of this fortress, black and inky like the void, but inlade with bones. Ivy wrapped around them, delicate amber flowers with smooth, coal vines. He took a breath. Then two, then four. His body didn't even need to breathe but liked the comfort.

Decay pretended to cough, an easy way of telling him to hurry up, so he at least knocked.

The doors slid apart on their own.

Raven stepped in. They closed behind him with a thud. He thought he heard a lock click.

v

The office was a long rectangular room with three walls of windows, and a perfect view of the dazzling city below. Somehow the fog didn't seem to bother hiding things up here.

In the center was a long meeting table, and at the end, the overseer of this entire realm, Death, sat in a high backed office chair, as if it were a throne.

Most people are curious what death will look like in the end. Will it be like a mother welcoming you home? Cruel and cold like a harsh blizzard ruining your crops? Or something else entirely?

When Raven looked right at death in the face, he saw himself, or someone he didn't want to be.

Although it wasn't exactly like looking into a mirror— Death was much older with lines around his brows and wrinkles in his forehead— they had the same expression.

Coal black eyes that hid cunning and strength in their depths, the same smirk as when he was about to pull something stupid, and although Death's hair was short and gelled back in a respectable, businesslike manner, it still fell into his face the same way Raven's did.

Although, that jet black suit is something Raven would rather die than be caught wearing.

Death, like always, was waiting for him, leaning back in his chair as if he never had a care in the world. He didn't invite Raven to join him at the table, so Raven kept his distance at the opposite end. It felt like they were separated by miles.

"Raven." Death's voice wasn't cold, but commanding. As a father’s would be.

Here we go. Raven got ready for the scolding. How much would he have to do to make up for it? Maybe Death would put him on guard duty, something only lower spirits like Arcane or Neroli do, just to embarrass him further. As if making him come all the way here with his tail between his legs wasn't enough.

Death shuffled the papers in front of him. "Come, sit."

Raven quirked a brow. That was a new one. Did Death need to get close and personal while he spelled out his public humiliation?

Like an obedient servant, Raven approached Death. But he didn't sit down, he perched by his shoulder, so he could see the papers, but it would be awkward for Death to grab him without wasting time turning around.

Death didn't bother turning his head, anyway.

"There's been a problem."

"Oh? Has there?"

Raven didn't think Death would be so attentive of him to see how he's been skipping work to fool around. Now he suddenly cares. When his reputation is in the line.

Death must have noticed his tone, because he made a hmph sound, but didn't comment. "The Library of Souls have notified me that multiple books have gone missing. And normally, this isn't a pressing issue, but the Librarians are unable to retrieve them."

Raven thought about those scary Librarians and all their teeth and claws. "Yikes. What poor soul is stealing from the library? You sure it's not just someone forgetting to return them?" He could name a few absent minded researchers who would do something like that.

Then Death did something weird. He turned to look him in the eyes. Raven shivered.

"That's the problem. We don't know why they are missing. No spells or searches have yielded any results."

"Damn. Well, I don't see how this applies to me so…”

A pause. "Come back."

Raven hmped. He stepped back over from where he sneakily tried to make a break for it.

Death turned back to his paperwork. "You're job is to go look for the missing souls and find the one responsible-"

"And make them pay and yada yada yada. I know. But this is hardly in my jurisdiction— I mean, can't you get one of the scholars to do it? Why should I care about a few lost souls-"

Death ignored him. He opened a manilla folder. Raven's face blanched.

Photos, charcoal drawings, pencil sketches, and crime scene documents displaying bodies in various states of decay. And names, every one, like a cut that ran deep. Death flipped through the pages, there were too many he recognized. The latest, a cute girl in braids and a puffy dress. Raven thought he was going to be sick.

"See where you come in now?"

"Oh Mother-" Raven sobered up

"You can't possibly believe I'm the one stealing the souls— I haven't stepped foot here in months-"

"I know." Death pulled out another case file, but Raven didn't recognize the picture. It was dark, barely legible, but there was a person in it. And there was something about their face that seemed almost- familiar.

"It's curious, how, not all, but many of the souls that are missing somehow tie back to you. Or him." Death geatured to the person in the photo. Something in Raven's brain clicked.

"That's another Child, isn't it?"

"You're half brother, to be exact. He's been hidden away for so long, but now that he's finally out of hiding-" Death had a far away look on his face.

"I don't really care that the missing souls are your ex lovers. It's not really difficult considering you've dated half a continent."

Damn. That hurt.

"But him." Death looked back at the photograph. He caressed it gently. Raven ignored the pang of something in his gut. "You'll see soon. There hasn't been one like him in a while. It's his first mission, so I expect you to look after him."

Raven hmped, again. "So I'm on babysitting duty? That's it? You made it seem like I was in trouble for missing work-" as soon as Raven said that regret hit him like a semi truck. Death turned to face him, a smirk on his face.

"Oh? What’s this I hear about missing work?"

Raven's face turned red.

"Well, then consider this an ample punishment. You do this, and I'll forget about you having to make up for your time off, deal?"

He gulped. Raven hated deals. "Okay."

Death clapped his hands together. "Now that that's settled, I need you gone. You'll find your half brother waiting outside the library at the witching hour, today, so don't be late.

Raven nodded and turned to leave. He made it as far as getting a hand on the doors before Death called him again. "His name is Vincent, by the way.”

The doors opened and shut behind Raven as he stepped out. The reception desk was empty, with a little sign that read, stepped out in red marker taped to the front.

Raven ignored it and went to the elevator.

Vincent.

That name left a bitter taste in his mouth.

#shhh don't say anything this is for the bestie #i feel like im reposting writing like IT'S MY WRITING IM NOT COPYING IT #still this feels sneaky

[dorefasolsido]

14. Life in plastic, it's fantastic

***credits to the original creator***

How frequently are you inclined to read, and how much?

I read quite a lot, but like with everything else in my life, I go through phases with it. Sometimes I'll read like three books in a week, and then I'll go months without reading anything. So it really depends.

When was the last time you questioned the direction your life was taking?

End of June/beginning of July. Work slowed down significantly, which means no money for a freelancer. I have my savings, but I started freaking out that I'd never get any work again, which would mean relying on my parents' money again, resulting in me staying in my hometown and dropping my German courses. All that would mentally fuck me up completely, so I'm glad I took a step to look for a different job and found something pretty good.

What small things have the ability to get under your skin?

When anyone tells me either "don't be so sensitive" or "you're so cold." For first, it's because I trained myself not to express my feelings and now, when I'm trying to break out of that a bit, there's nothing that sets me back more than that comment.

As for the second thing, I know I come across as cold and I try my best not to, but with some people it's just never enough.

When was the last time you were caused to be upset with someone?

Don't want to get too much into it, but I had a fight recently with my best friend.

What is something small that has the ability to cure a bad mood?

Run BTS for me. Seeing my boys backstab each other for snacks is therapeutic, to say the least.

What beverage is best capable of quenching your thirst?

In the summer, iced tea. Or just good old water.

What was the last big change through which you went? Do you deal well with change, typically? Have you always?

So, as I said, I recently found a new job; similar to my previous one, but I still needed to adjust to new software and way of working. Tbh, it's been going really well, and I generally worry a lot about change beforehand, but when it comes to it, I have no problem adjusting.

How do you feel after spending a great quantity of time online?

Hmmm, I guess I feel a little out of it, or like my brain is all buzzed. But it's not so bad, since I literally work and live online at this point.

What do you consider to be the biggest drawback to being you?

There really aren't any special drawbacks except for my questionable mental health.

What do you consider the best part of being who you are?

I think I'm lucky to have a supportive family, good friends, to be healthy and capable of supporting myself. Plus, I'm pursuing a career that I love, which I feel like isn't as common as I thought when I was younger.

What kinds of things do you have on display in your room?

A few stuffed animals and some trinkets I got as gifts or souvenirs. Oh, and a little collage of pictures me and my sister took together.

What do you think your room and its contents say about you, if anything?

I don't think it says much about me, I didn't put super much effort into personalizing it. But maybe that says enough about me as is -- I'm super lazy.

When was the last time you felt insecure about something/some situation?

Oh all the time. I'm getting tired of it lately, though, so maybe I'll work on not giving a fuck anymore.

Do you ever stop to contemplate infinity?

Sure, only infinity is such a hard concept to wrap your brain around.

Are you comfortable amongst nature, or does the wilderness discomfit you?

I love nature, but I'm not a fan of spiders and other creatures that lurk there. But nothing's quite as relaxing as hiking in the mountains or taking a walk through the forest.

When was the last time someone or something caught you off guard?

Tbh, Black Mirror's "Shut Up and Dance" episode I watched yesterday. That twist totally blindsided me.

How much time do you put into maintaining your appearance and hygiene?

I mean, enough to be presentable. If I'm not going anywhere, I'm definitely not bothering as much with my appearance, but I always put effort into hygiene.

Are there any foods you eat daily? Or wish you could?

Chocolate, more or less.

When was the last time someone new entered your life? What was your first impression of that individual?

Hmm, I guess my new coworkers now? I only interact with them online, but we did one casual call where we played games too. They seem alright, though I still need time to form my opinion.

Do you put much thought into your handwriting?

Lol none. I don't write by hand very much anymore, so it's even more of a disaster than it used to be.

What are some of the top priorities in your life right now?

Family, friends, travelling, work, my cat, in no particular order.

In general, how do you feel about romantic relationships?

I don't put much stock in them, personally. Maybe because I'm ace with aromantic tendencies, idk. I just feel like I'm happier the way I am and platonic relationship satisfy me just fine.

Which emotional sensation inconveniences or bothers you the most?

Not sure how to answer this one, tbh.

Are you capable of consoling others in their grief?

Aaah, I don't know. I mean, I try. I don't think I'm good at it though.

Do you ever find it awkward to compliment another being?

Yes yes yes. And it's awkward to receive compliments too.

When was the last time you had a new experience? What was it?

I can't think of anything particular, but I'm going to Rome soon, so that will surely be a new experience.

Do you dress more for yourself, or to the expectations of others?

For myself. I'm really tired of worrying about other people's expectations. I've been trapped in that mindset for over a decade for sure.

What kinds of things tend to stress you out?

Public speeches, phone calls, job interviews, being the centre of attention.

What is one way you cope when you feel like crap?

I mostly just distract myself and wait for it to pass.

Name an insult you regularly receive, if there is one?

I don't think there is? At this point, if someone insulted me regularly, I'd just walk away.

Name a site that takes up a lot of your time?

YouTube.

What is something you used to believe about life that you no longer do?

I mean, I'm sure I believed at some point that life is fair and was in for a nasty surprise.

Do you have a tendency to look on the morbid side of life?

Aside from an occasional morbid joke and my interest in horror, I don't think so.

When was the last time you went shopping? What did you buy?

Before I went to see Barbie movie last week. I was going with friends and we had agreed to wear pink, so since I owned absolutely nothing in that colour, I had to visit the shopping mall. Got myself a pink crop top.

When you shop for clothing, how long does it take you?

Not very long usually because I find shopping exhausting.

What is something fun you have done within the past week?

I went to see Barbie on Friday and then Oppenheimer on Wednesday. Also met up with a friend on Saturday and we got completely drenched in the summer rain, which is always fun.

What is something you hope you never have to do again?

Job interviews, but I don't delude myself thinking I never will.

How does the rain affect your mood, if it does?

I love the rain. It inspires me to write, actually.

#surveys #personal

[silky-stories]

Just a Bad Day (Corpse and Friends/Reader)

Genre: Light angst, Fluff, sort of Platonic but you could take it otherwise

Words: 1628

Related Songs: PETIT BISCUIT - Sunset Lover https://youtu.be/wuCK-oiE3rM ZYAN, Sia - Dusk till Dawn | slowed https://youtu.be/7LLKAL6ERDA

Summary: (Y/n) has a bad day and her friends are suspicious

Disclaimer/s: Depressive episode, slight anxiety, big sad :(

Notes: I left out what it was that made the Reader upset so you can let it be whatever you want :)

———————————————————————

"(Y/n) you're fine, you don't even have your webcam on today, you'll be okay." Rae teased you softly, getting a couple chuckles from the few people that had joined the Among Us lobby a bit early.

She had overheard your quiet mentions of being nervous and having your webcam off, both due to the fact that you had a bit of a hectic day and didn't have time to make yourself presentable. It didn't bug you that she responded with a joking tone, she wasn't aware of the tear streaks that framed your cheeks and red, puffy eyes you just couldn't hide with the high quality camera you have. She didn't know, no one knew, how were you supposed to be mad about that?

"Ha ha, yeah... guess you're right." You plastered the most fake smile you've ever made to your face to at least make it sound like you were happy. Thankfully, it seemed to work as the conversation moved on without you.

Less fortunately, your fans were a little more perceptive, although you should have expected that considering that some of them watched you on a daily basis. Your chat was filled with near exclusively kind remarks, from a modest 'Are you alright?' to full on paragraphs that passed by a bit too fast for you to get through more than the first few words. You muted yourself in the discord chat so only your audience could hear you, reassuring them that you were fine, no matter how much your broken tone betrayed you. It didn't work as well as you wanted, but that wasn't their fault.

Soon enough the whole gang was together and ready for the game to start, they sounded excited. It was nice to hear that your bad mood hadn't leeched onto your friends, that was the last thing you needed right now.

A deep sigh came from your mouth as you saw the red lettering fade in and off of your screen, "Dammit..." You weren't ready for an imposter game, you were sort of hoping that you could go a whole stream without one actually. Even worse, Corpse was your partner, which meant you'd end up dragging him down with you.

The game began, the layout of the Skeld loading in and the colourful avatars of your friends scattering to do their assigned tasks. You did yourself a favour and didn't move right away, giving yourself a second to take a deep breath and at least attempt to put some effort into doing a good stream. Your fans deserved it, they were all so nice and had been so supportive, they didn't need to be worried about you.

Unfortunately, when you did move, your partner had unknowingly sabotaged the reactor the second before you did anything, making it look a lot like you sabotaged it yourself. It wouldn't have been a problem if Toast hadn't been passing by the second you did. You went to kill him, but since you were both right next to the emergency button, there wasn't anything you could do in time.

The pit of anxiety in your stomach only grew as the animation flashed across your screen, you didn't even know how you were going to defend yourself. As the voting screen came up you only felt worse, no one had even died yet, so you were going to be the first one out on the first game. Great.

"So (Y/n), did you just sabotage reactor?" Toast piped up the second he had the chance.

You were silent as everyone did their played up reactions for the camera, trying to use that time to think of something. It didn't work to say the least.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Your words didn't sound even slightly convincing, not to mention the tired tone of voice you couldn't seem to get rid of that did nothing for you.

Before Toast could get too far into his rebuttal, which didn't really matter after your lame defence, your partner piped up.

"Hey Toast, was anyone else near you guys?" His low tone said nothing of his intentions, you were jealous.

"No, it was just the two of us in cafeteria." He responded, not sure where Corpse was going with this.

"So, technically speaking, it could have been you and nobody would have seen it except for (Y/n)?"

The gasps that followed in response to the new idea were small, but promising nonetheless, even if they were more as a joke than an actual response. It was because of that fact that you were so surprised when the vote ended up being skipped, only two people actually voting for you, one of them being Toast.

You felt a twinge of relief, maybe you could still win this, maybe you could actually have a good night to make up for the terrible day you had.

...

It hadn't even been a minute when you accidentally killed Toast in front of Poki and Jack.

As the meeting started, you tried to say something but you just couldn't seem to get any words in by the time everyone had voted except for you.

"So (Y/n) first and then Corpse?"

You didn't even know what to say.

"C'mon (Y/n), just vote, it'll all be over soon."

What was there to say?

"(Y/n)?"

Why were you taking this so hard?

You quietly clicked on the checkmark to vote for yourself as fresh tears began to spill over your cheeks. You hadn't said anything during the meeting and, seeing as your avatar was now floating through space, you wouldn't be able to say anything now. Useless...

Your chat was going crazy now, flooded with concerns and kind affirmations directed towards you. Your gaze drifted over them mindlessly, not taking anything in, it just looked like a big white blur.

By the time you shook yourself from your dazed state, Corpse's avatar was just finishing it's trip across the screen, floating hopelessly through space as yours had mere minutes ago.

The defeat screen only hammered in how stupid your mistake was as it came and went, just as everything else had without any input from you.  The conversation picked back up quickly, jokes and teases were exchanged, you couldn't even make out what they were saying until the attention was put on you.

"You okay (Y/n)? Not feeling too into it today?" Toast's remark was clearly a joke, just a little jab to get a chuckle like usual.

Unfortunately, you weren't feeling like usual tonight.

"No..."

It was almost pitiful how broken and sad that one word came out. Your voice had even cracked as you spoke, you figured you must have been just depressing to listen to. If you weren't downright embarrassing you probably seemed like a child for not keeping it together like the others did when they were upset.

Surprisingly enough though, that's not what happened.

"Wait really? Crap I'm sorry."

"Oh no, are you okay?"

"Do you wanna stop playing?"

It was stupid, but for the first time that day you felt okay crying. So you did.

"I'm sorry... thank you..." you mumbled, using your sleeves to wipe your tears, "I just had a really bad day, but I... I still wanna play with you guys I just..."

Damn it, what did you do to deserve friends that cared so much about you?

"I know what to do." Rae spoke up, her grin shining through in her tone, "Group hug!"

Her avatar ran over to yours, nestling herself beside you in a sort of makeshift hug. Everyone else followed suit shortly after, and soon enough you were in the middle of a little circle, fitting perfectly in the middle.

A small sob-like laugh broke free from your lips, "Damnit, you guys are the worst." You joked with a smile, chuckling at the childish but heartfelt display.

The night only got better from there, and even though you weren't at your best, everyone was even nicer than usual and it helped to turn that bad day into a pretty enjoyable night.

After about an hour you decided to stop your stream, deciding to cut it short for the sake of your mental health.

"Yeah I think I'm gonna get going too." Your farewells seemed to spark a response from someone else.

"You too Corpse?" Jack piped up, somewhat confused as he hadn't mentioned anything earlier about doing a shorter stream.

"Yeah, I got some stuff to do, don't worry I'll still be playing with you guys on Friday."

"Alright, well see ya both later!"

"G'night!"

"Have a good sleep!"

"Feel better soon (Y/n)!"

You sighed gently as you disconnected from the discord call and the Among Us server, leaving your audience with the usual 'Stream Starting Soon' screen that you didn't feel like changing.

"Well, that's about it for tonight." You spoke, taking a minute to read the chat silently before continuing, "Thank you guys for all the support, I know I didn't say much tonight but I read a lot of what you were saying, it's really appreciated."

A buzz came from your phone, you picked it up and smiled at what you saw.

Corpse

[ hey, wanna talk? ]

You said your goodbyes to your chat and shut off the stream, grabbing your phone and heading straight to your room. You hadn't even made it to your door by the time you were dialling your friend's number. Flopping down onto your bed, you put your phone on speakerphone and felt a warmth fill your body as a familiar voice filled your room.

"Hey."

"Hey." You responded, turning to your phone even though neither of you could see each other.

You supposed today wasn't so bad after all.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse huband x reader #corpse x reader #x reader #self insert #angst #fluff #my writing #me when writing anything: :( but also :) #oneshot

[rolandtowen]

three times Zuko comes into the Jasmine Dragon coffee shop, and one time Sokka leaves with him. Set in the Neurodiverse Zukka AU, but can read as a standalone.

*banging pots and pans together* "Come over here and get yall Neurodiverse Zukka!"

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut!

TW: discussions of skin picking and implied child abuse

i.

When Sokka pulls into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, he is unsurprisingly the first car there. Being a freshman in town means getting the worst pick of shifts at local businesses. Sokka was hired on to work the opening shift, which means he wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5am to open the shop before the first round of sleep-deprived college students comes in. The pay isn't bad, Mr. Iroh is an incredibly fair man,

The bell on the door jingles on his way in, and he flips several light switches on, watching as the coffee shop slowly comes to life. He busies himself with getting the beans for the day grinding, pulling his first shot and dialing in the expresso. When he takes a sip, the espresso is spot on for the day, which is a relief. Having to make adjustments as customers start filing in is a nightmare.

Today's brew is floral and citrusy, so he decides to make himself and iced lavender latte - with oat milk, of course, because he's gotta do it for the gays - and he spends the next 20 minutes setting out pastries and fiddling with the display cases, making everything look perfect.

At 6am sharp, Sokka unlocks the front door and flips their sign to open, before retreating behind the bar to nurse his latte. Not even five minutes later, the door bell jingles, and Sokka sees a flash of dark hair, face obscured by a pile of textbooks and binders. The figure runs into one table, and then another, and Sokka is rushing out from behind the counter. He gets there just before textbooks go toppling everywhere, his hands taking a firm hold of the top bundle. As he pulls the books into his arms, he sees the face behind them.

Breathtaking golden eyes.

And.. a massive burn scar.

"Hi!" Sokka says, "I'm the barista on shift today - my name's Sokka." He would reach his hand for the other man to shake, but for the stack of textbooks in them.

Golden Eyes smiles.

"I'm Zuko, Zuko Sozin," he says, setting his remaining textbooks on the table by his side. Sokka follows suit.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before - are you taking Piandao's Intro to Biology class?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah! You sit a few rows in front of me." Zuko laughs. "Your doodles are uh, something alright."

Sokka knocks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "I gotta keep my hands busy for my brain to focus." He looks down at the stack of books on the table. "What on earth are you studying, to have that many books?"

"Uh, Biology and Chemistry double-major, Pre-Med track." Sokka's eyes widen. "It's really not that much! I got a bunch of stuff out of the way with AP credits."

Sokka raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, it is a lot - but I'm really passionate about it. I want to be a doctor."

"Well, Dr. Sozin, what can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a iced matcha, with a lot of honey?"

Sokka raises his other eyebrow. "A doctor with a sweet tooth?"

"Kind of?"

"Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your dentist. An iced matcha with extra honey?" Zuko nods and Sokka smiles. "You got it, doc."

ii.

Sokka falls into a routine at the Jasmine Dragon. He opens the shop every morning, and every morning of the fall semester so far, Zuko Sozin comes in at precisely 6:05am. Zuko will order an iced matcha with honey, and sits at a table by the window with his laptop and at least two textbooks open at all times. Then, at 11:50am - Sokka guess he has a class that starts at noon - Zuko leaves the shop, always making sure to throw his spare change into Sokka's tip jar.

He's so beautiful.

On a slow day, Sokka comes out from behind the safety of the counter and works up the courage to ask Zuko if he can study with him. Zuko looks shocked at first, but his lips quirk up in a smile as he gestures for Sokka to sit in the chair across from him, moving his textbooks to make room for Sokka's one book and laptop.

"What are you studying, Sokka?" Zuko appears to be genuinely interested.

"Oh, uh, social work, with a concentration in mental health." Sokka waits for Zuko to laugh at him. It never comes. He looks up at him over their laptops.

"That's really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, some pre-med majors can be really pretentious, really dismissive of mental illness, but um - not me. I don't really have that luxury." Zuko laughs, as though at a joke with himself. "What's the Intro to Biology for, then?"

"Not all of us got our common core out of the way with AP credits, like some nerd I know." Zuko smiles at that, and looks back down at his laptop screen.

Sokka pulls his keys from his pocket and starts fidgeting with the stim toy he keeps on his keychain as he reads through his latest assignment for his Mental Illness and Society class. He bought it on Etsy, relieved to find a neurodivergent-owned shop after scrolling through a lot of stores that just seemed to be hopping on the 'trend' of selling fidget toys. He flips to the next page in his textbook, popping the buttons back and forth in a steady rhythm. He remembers Zuko's sitting across from him and stops abruptly.

"Is this annoying? Do you want me to stop?"

Zuko just cocks his head. "Why would I get a say in what you do? It's kind of your shop, right?"

"Um, to be polite?" Sokka laughs. "And you would be surprised how many customers I get who think they get to tell me what to do." His eyes settle on the half drunk latte in front of him. "It's not really my shop either, I just work the early morning shifts so Mr. Iroh can sleep in. If you ever get to stay past noon sometime, you'll see him come in. You can't miss him, short guy, talks in riddles. He's older, a war vet I think - I just get that impression from some of the stories he tells me. But anyway, did you want me to stop fidgeting?" Sokka looks back up to meet those golden eyes.

Zuko glitches for a second. "Oh! No, no, go for it - if it helps you to study, I'm all for it."

Sokka smiles, and looking at the way Zuko keeps picking at his cuticles gives him an idea. He digs into his backpack and pulls out another stim toy, an acupressure ring. ""Do you want to try this instead of maiming your hands?"

Zuko hesitantly holds out a hand and Sokka drops it into his palm. "You don't have to."

Sokka scoffs. "I know I don't have to - I want to. Come on, I wear it on my thumb sometimes -" and suddenly he's taking Zuko's hands into his and getting very close to Zuko's face. Zuko can smell espresso on his clothes and Sokka's hands are so warm against his. Calloused, sure, but warm. He holds Zuko's right hand gently, pressing the spiky ring onto his thumb. "And you can rub it back and forth with your pointer finger and it gives you that kind of prickly sensation that you get from skin picking, just without the skin picking." Sokka pulls his hands away and Zuko immediately misses them. "Give it a shot, tell me what you think."

Zuko tentatively rolls the ring over his thumb. Huh. The cute barista's right, the acupressure gives him that same prickly, scratchy feeling that picking at his nails and cuticles does. "Wow," he says, "I think you've converted me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then keep it, I've got a thousand more where that came from, ADHD perks."

Zuko instinctively opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat.

"You, you have ADHD?" He stops rolling the ring across his thumb.

"Yup." Sokka's lips popped on the 'p', and he turned to the next page in his textbook. "And I'm pretty sure you've got some spicy stuff happening your brain, too. But you don't have to tell me."

"How are you so open about it?"

Sokka's hand stills around the fidget. "My parents never treated me like I was deficient in any way - my brain just works differently, which means I have trouble with some 'normal' stuff. But I also strengths in areas that others don't have naturally. Accommodations aren't anything to be ashamed of."

"Sounds nice." All of the levity drops out of Zuko's voice.

Sokka levels a look at Zuko. He lets his eyes flit to the right side of Zuko's face and the scar there. He's seen it so many times, and the burns look so concentrated, almost... intentional. His stomach churns at the thought. The scar's old... and Zuko's at college now, he has to be safe - he has to be.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me." Sokka's hand starts to fidget with the buttons again. "But I have it on good authority that I am a good listener."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind." Zuko looks down at his hands, fingers rolling the ring back and forth against his thumb. "Thank you."

"Anytime, doc."

iii.

Somehow, fumbling through their collective social awkwardness, they manage to swap numbers.

At the end of the fall semester, Sokka texts Zuko for the first time.

S: hey, im gonna be a few minutes later. don't worry, im still coming.

Z: okay. thank you.

When Sokka finally pulls into the parking lot fifteen minutes late, he sees Zuko waiting outside the door, sitting on a bench, head buried in one of his chemistry textbooks.

"Hey," he puts his keys in the door. "You can just come in while I open, it won't take too long."

Zuko follows him inside, and he closes the door against the chill.

"You didn't have to text me," Zuko says, like it's a question.

"I wanted to," Sokka starts flipping on light switches. "I know you've got your routine, and I didn't want to stress you out when it got messed up."

"Why would that matter to you?"

"Um, I don't want you to be stressed? I kind of care about you."

"You... you care about me?" Zuko stands in the middle of the coffee shop, unmoving.

Sokka smiles. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

"I think we could be friends?"

"Oh." Zuko's face falls for a second - what Sokka has come to understand is his 'processing' face - and he looks back up a second later. "I think we could be friends too."

"Friendship with a barista has great perks, you know." Sokka laughs as he starts up the grinder. "Although the perks of a social worker friend aren't too bad either."

"How's that going? With your first semester ending?" Zuko sits on a stool at the bar and watches Sokka putter around behind it.

"Well, I'm going to pass Intro to Biology, not for lack of trying on Piandao's part - I swear he's trying to weed out all the humanities kids. It isn't even a weed out course!" He polishes an espresso glass furiously. "How are you doing?"

Zuko chokes. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, you know it's a hard class and all -"

"You're getting an A, aren't you?" Sokka squints at him from behind a bag of coffee beans. "Curve breaker," he scoffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm, what did you call it? A 'burnt-out gifted kid with people pleasing tendencies'." Zuko crosses his arms and huffs at the memory of that conversation. Sokka had read him like a picture book. And it was not fair for one person to be that good at emotions.

"You are correct, I did indeed call you that." Sokka pulls the first shot of the morning. "And it looks like I was right."

"You know what you said the other week, about being a good listener?"

"Sure do," Sokka takes a sip of the espresso, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, if we're going to be... friends, I just think you'd want to know that - I'm autistic." Zuko stares at Sokka searching his face for any cues about what the next words out of his mouth will be, waiting for the facade of friendship to drop. He furiously rolls the acupressure ring up and down his thumb.

"Okay, that's great!"

"...what."

Zuko's hands freeze and he squeezes the ring against his skin, feeling the pressure increase.

"That's great, I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me that. I kind of guessed your parents weren't as accommodating as mine?"

Zuko laughs something sour. "No, no they were not." He looks up in surprise as Sokka puts an iced matcha, extra honey, in front of him. "You're right though, I do feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Zuko looks down at the acupressure ring on his thumb, softening his grip. "You could have totally ignored me, but you didn't. Or you could've been mean about my quirks - but you weren't. Why?"

"Well, for starters, you tip well." Sokka smiles and leans across the counter, bracketing Zuko's elbows in with his own. "But you're also a really great guy - you're passionate, you want to make people's lives better, and you're also like, really beautiful."

Zuko feels his cheeks flush. "You really think that?" His fingers still against the fidget again, but he doesn't feel the need to press it into his skin. He's captivated by Sokka's words. Surely, Sokka couldn't actually mean -

"Oh, yeah. Every bit." Sokka brushes his hand against one of Zuko's, the one with the fidget ring. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes, please, yes." After weeks, Sokka's hand is back in his, and Zuko thinks he's going to implode. "Can, can you hold both of my hands? With both of your hands?"

"Of course," Sokka's positively beaming, grabbing Zuko's hands and running his thumbs across his knuckles. "Now you're absolutely allowed to say no to my next question, and there are no hard feelings."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Fuck yes."

The iced matcha is forgotten.

+ i

Sokka's feet hurt like hell. Mr. Iroh had called in him to work a double on Friday, and since he doesn't have any classes on Fridays, he foolishly agreed.

It won't seem so foolish once you see the paycheck, he reminds himself. He and Zuko have a deal. Zuko pays for his medical school with his job shelving books at the University library, and Sokka pays for their tiny apartment by caffeinating all of the other broke college kids in town. By some miracle, they seem to be able to make it work. Zuko graduated into the medical college a year early, which helps with tuition costs, and of course his brilliant boyfriend got all kinds of scholarships.

Sokka is indescribably proud of him.

The door bell jangles just as Sokka is wiping the crumbs off the last cafe table. "Hey, we're starting to close up for the night, so it'd better be a to-go order," he calls over his shoulder.

"Even for me?"

"Zuko!" Sokka drops his cloth immediately and spins around, pulling Zuko into a hug. Zuko taps the small of his back when he's ready to let go, and Sokka lets him go, beaming. "You came to visit me at work?"

"More like I picked up your favorite soup dumplings from Haru's across the street and thought we could walk home together?" Zuko shrugs, gesturing to the brown paper bag in his arms. "How's that sound to you?"

"Baby, that's just what I needed today." Sokka picks up his cleaning supplies. "Okay, I just need to put all of this away and then we can lock up and go home, how's that?"

"Great," Zuko smiles at him. "I may have also picked up some more Doctor Who DVDs from the library," he smirks.

"Oh, you trickster!" Sokka yells from the kitchen, before appearing again. "You used my one weakness, pork soup dumplings, against me in order to get your nerdy way."

"Oh, big talk coming from the guy who watches astronomy documentaries for fun," Zuko laughs as Sokka leads him out of the shop, switching off the lights and locking the door behind him. "If it were up to you, we'd be watching Cosmos all weekend, and I can only take so much of Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining the peculiarities of the moon."

"Hey, the moon is cool!"

"You are correct, the moon is very cool. It's freezing, because it's a rock. In space. With no atmosphere. Or life." Zuko deadpans, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sokka.

"Fine, you get Doctor Who tonight, but Saturday is going to be all PBS Nova, baby. Brace yourself." Sokka takes Zuko's free hand into his as they start the walk home.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'm happy."

Notes:

fidgets in this work were inspired by those from shop StimBox

#neurodiverse au #neurodiverse zukka #neurodivergent zukka #autistic zuko #adhd sokka #coffee shop #modern au #college au #med school au #bisexual sokka #asexual zuko #gay zuko #zukka #first kiss #zuko is an awkward turtleduck #pre relationship #developing relationship #sokka is a nerd #zuko is also a nerd #touch starved zuko #stim toys #fidget toys #fluff #romantic fluff #how many tags can char fit on a post #rolandtowen #my fic #atla #avatar #the last airbender

[atsunflower]

Hospital for souls — The Line

Rated: SFW

Author note: I gotta nothing to say. This took me really long and I struggled a lot to write it. Thanks for being patient with me. Also, big shoutout to @neonghxst, who helped me a lot with this one. I love you bby 💕

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of anxiety and this chapter contains gore towards the end.

IV — The line

Previous || Next

"I don't wanna go" Your voice showed distaste at the invitation.

Since the fight with Sakusa, you avoided all human contact like the plague. The only ones that talked to you were the maids and, occasionally, Komori, who had warmed up to you since you saved his ass — to be honest, you weren't very fond of his change of character.

"Listen, you're the new lady of this household." Komori explained in a tired manner."This gala is held every year in some sort of diplomatics, to grant no family crosses the line. All the important members must make a presence."

"Yeah, but I'm sure no one cares if I don't show up." You deadpanned looking at his face.

"It's just a fancy ass party. I'll take you to get a dress myself, but I gotta run some errands and find a suit too. If I'm late, then Izuna will take you." Komori saw you stiffening when you heard the name. Ever since you arrived in Itachiyama, Izuna was the most hostile towards you. "Hey, don't worry about him... He'll be nice."

"I gotta remind you that no one has been nice to me since I came here, Komori-san." You stated the obvious and the male before you grimaced.

"Look, we're not as bad as you think. Neither we are some sort of low life criminals, you know." His voice sent shivers down your spine. The hazel-haired man has been treating you better, yes, but you could tell the words you said to Sakusa that day affected him too.

"Yeah. But you all did nothing to prove me wrong." You stared at his eyes, the sincere tone meaning each world "If anything, all you did was make me miserable even though I'm not a threat. And you know it." You saw when the hazel haired male shook his head, face softening a little.

"I'll be back in a few." And then, Komori left. 

To your relief, it was Komori himself who showed up at your bedroom door. Now, you were at some boutique somewhere in the fancy side of Shibuya, trying a beautiful strappy off-white dress.

You loved how the silky cloth hugged your body and how the pearly color complimented your skin tone. Definitely, it was the propper gown for an event as important as a mafia gala.

Taking in the figure reflected in the mirror, you recalled the last time you wore something so fancy was at your wedding. Suddenly, you felt ugly — after all, you were a woman of surgical scrubs and white coats. Wearing something like this dress was a reminder of what kind of life you were living now.

"[Name]-san, have you decided?" Komori asked with an undecipherable look on his face. 

"Ah, yes, I'm taking this one" You said to the salesperson, already getting back to the changing room.

From the inside, you heard a knock on the door. It was Komori.

"[Name], are you good?" He asked in a soft spoken manner, as if he was concerned.

You know it's not the case, don't let your guard down, you reminded yourself.

"Yes, Komori-san. Are we ready to go?" He hummed in agreement, saying he was going to do the payment.

The two of you had yet to arrive in Itachiyama. The silence was heavy inside the car and you could see the man opening his mouth as if he was trying to say something.

"I never asked, did you see a doctor?" You started, breaking the unnerving atmosphere.

"Ah, yes. I'm all good, no sequels or whatever." He cleared his throat, side-glancing at you "Those guys took us by surprise that night, huh? We were lucky you were there to help us out." You hummed, staring at his elbow, as if you could see through the material of his jacket.

"I shouldn't have opened your arm that way. It was really irresponsible of me to do it and it was a miracle things ended up well."You said in a reflecting manner.

Does she regret saving me?, Komori couldn't help but wonder.

"The doctor I saw said the surgery was perfectly executed, so don't beat yourself over it. Besides, I can see the passion you have. You'd make it right anyways." The male said truthfully and you frowned. You didn't want his trust because he would never have yours.

You also didn't like the appreciative tone he used. A doctor isn't a hero, You reminded yourself everyday, to never let it go to your head.

"I'm passionate, but it's about my personal ethics, you don't need passion to be good at what you do. I think you know it very well." You still frowned, not liking what he implied. You never wanted to be some sort of hero, much less to someone like him. 

"Yeah, I don't need to love the yakuza to be good at it. But I don't think a passionless person would make a good doctor." He argued, trying to prove his point.

"In my line of work, a mistake costs your whole career. Passionless and unethical people exist everywhere, a hospital isn't a sanctuary." You said matter of factly — it wasn't about the romantic lenses people saw the health workers. After all, medicine was a field made majorly of people with the means and the money. You learned it the hard way when you made into med school.

"Why would you say that?" The traffic light signalled to stop. The Kobun used this opportunity to take in your figure, eyes roaming over your crossed arms and unfazed features.

Duty takes a toll in everyone, huh?, He internally stated.

"Because I know someone. And as passionless someone could be, he's still the best at what he does." And Komori didn't miss the feeling displayed in your eyes.

It wasn't merely passion. Something deeper resided in those irises of yours.

An awkward silence overtook the atmosphere as the car resumed its movement. He felt uncomfortable, trying to figure out what you meant.

"Well, what matters is that everything ended up well. Who would have guessed they would attack us that night?" Komori conceded, trying to break the unsettling quietness.

"Yeah, this whole yakuza thing is really scary." You said looking through the tinted window, a pensive look in your face.

"You'll get used to it. And it doesn't happen on a daily basis either" He brushed you off, turning in a curb.

"Yeah, but ignoring the threat isn't an easy task." You retorted, tiredly.

"How do you know it? Besides, since you're our lady, it's not like we'll let  something happen to you." The brunette said, in hopes of comforting you. It had the opposite effect, as a silent rage ran down your body.

"Komori-san, how do I know?" You bitterly laughed "My whole life, I was at the line. My mother didn't want me to be born, Inarizaki wanted my head since I was in the womb and you guys will get rid of me at any given opportunity." You saw him opening his mouth to argue "Your household won't protect me if the order comes from Sakusa." 

As if in a cue, the car approached the gates of Itachiyama. Komori was rendered speechless, knowing you were right.

Personally, you weren't one to offend people and make them feel bad. You couldn't help the pang in your chest every time you exploded at any of them. But by god, were you tired.

I just want my life back, you thought. After all, it was infinite times easier to be a target when you were somehow detached from the life inside the families. The Kobun said something you paid no mind to.

Banging the car door shut, you ignored his calling.

The nagging feeling was a constant in his life.

Roaming through his memories, he could never pinpoint a time he felt comfortable under his skin. He was too anxious and life never treated him kindly to do so.

Maybe he overreacted a lot, too. But it wasn't his fault he had to be hyper aware of his surroundings.

The alert state was essential in an ambience full of people who could stab him in the back.

Fuck the diplomatics, he cursed.

It was one of those nights he hated the most. The suntuous ballroom was full of people going back and forth, bragging about futilities and throwing insincere flattery at each other. All because the ever so generous Karasuno was hosting a dinner at The Crow to assure no one disturbs the deal between the families.

Bullshit, he thought. It's only Karasuno trying to show off their influence over this frail peace.

And, as much as he appreciated said peace, he hated how everyone faked they got along with each other.

Not that he cared about politeness either. And his signature scowl did nothing to keep people away. After all, everyone wanted a piece of Itachiyama.

"Kiyoomi." The ravenette heard the deep voice from his back. A wave of relief washed over him.

At least, Wakatoshi-kun is here. I won't die from boredom, He mused.

"Wakatoshi." He responded, nodding at the other. From outside Itachiyama, Ushijima was the only one Sakusa considered a friend.

"I thought you wouldn't come tonight, I know you don't really like the crowd."

"People would find weird if I didn't, considering Inarizaki and everything."

"Speaking of which, did you bring your wife?" Ushijima asked, looking around. Sakusa nodded before speaking.

"Yeah, she went to the restrooms. Komori is with her." And speaking of the devil, you came into view.

He knew you had a fine taste for things, and he would be a fool to say you didn't look good tonight. But he would never admit it.

A Miya isn't worth you time, he repeated it like a mantra, observing as you made your way onto him.

Komori enthusiastically greeted Ushijima and you merely nodded out of politeness, looking at the bulky male with caution. Given Ushijima's intimidating vibes, Sakusa couldn't really blame you.

"I see you're Sakusa's wife. I'm Ushijima Wakatoshi." He offered his hand at you "It's a pleasure to meet you"

"Likewise, Ushijima-san" You introduced yourself as the Oyabun of Itachiyama watched the scene unfold before him, recalling how his friend was the blunt and introverted type. He couldn't help but admire the way the two of you conversed smoothly; earning Ushijima's sympathy required effort. You did it with ease.

"She's a good woman." Sakusa didn't see when your conversation died down and Ushijima turned to him. He found himself dumbfounded at the other's statement.

"She's a Miya"

"She worked with Shirabu. He spoke highly of her" A waiter passed by offering them whiskey. The rich scent of Yamazaki reached his nostrils as he drank it, throat used to the burning sensation "And you know he's not one to lie."

"Still…" His retort was halted when he felt the weight of a gaze on him. In the far corner of the room, none other than Oikawa Tooru had all his attention turned to the general direction of you all "What is he looking at?" He squinted at the brunette's direction, trying to make out his intentions.

"He seems to be looking at your wife" Ushijima bluntly spoke "But don't worry about him, Oikawa may have his reasons. He is a reliable man, after all."

"You're indeed soft today. What happened?" The other opened his mouth to respond before being interrupted by a startled voice.

Your husband was doing a good job ignoring you while speaking to Ushijima — you wouldn't complain, since you didn't want any of his attention.

Listening to Komori speaking wonders of the whiskey he was drinking, you felt a little at ease. You imagined the gala to be much scarier than this, but all you could see was snotty people too full of themselves. It was almost comical hearring them bragging about things you couldn't even dream of.

"This is a 25 years old Yamazaki. It's a favorite of mine and Kiyoomi—"

"Is this real life?" A surprised voice cutted Komori's middle sentence.

Before you, a handsome man looked appalled, staring at you with an emotion you couldn't identify. You were feeling uncomfortable as everyone around you was paying attention to your interaction.

"I'm sorry, sir. But am I supposed to know you?" You asked, in hopes to remember if you knew him by any chance. He beamed brightly at you.

"Of course you wouldn't remember me!" And he laughed again, earning a frown from your husband.

"Do you have any business to do with my wife?" Sakusa's cold-steel voice asked. The pretty man ignored it. And, at this point, everyone in the area stopped their actions, watching the scene with interest.

"I'm Oikawa Tooru, the Oyabun of Seijoh. Two years ago, you saved my nephew's life in an accident at the Dinosaur Bridge, only using a needle. After it, you held his hand until the ambulance came." The man bowed deeply, and only now you noticed he was accompanied by another spiky-haired male, who was also bowing at you. Observing them, you faintly remembered saving a little boy in a traffic accident a couple of years ago "For that, I'll be forever thankful. In return, I wanted to say you have Seijoh's gratitude whenever you need it." He stood tall again, staring at you dead in the eye to confirm he meant every single word he said.

You were speechless.

"I… sir, I'm thankful, but I did what had to be done. You don't owe me anything." You said uncertainly, glancing at the startled faces of both Komori and Sakusa. Ushijima looked fondly at you, as if he knew something.

"You had a choice that day, and you choosed to help us when we couldn't do anything. And it's enough for us to pay you back." The spiky-haired man said. It was rare for someone to address you with so much respect and sincerity. You appreciated it wholeheartedly.

"I— thank you." And you bowed at them, trying to show your gratitude to both males.

"Well, we won't disturb you anymore. Please have a good night" The Oikawa guy said, handing you a business card which you secluded inside your clutch.

"See?" You heard Ushijima saying, but you were too stunned to register it.

You didn't have time to process the event, as someone announced the dinner was about to be served.

"Seijoh's favour, huh? You sure are skyrocketing this mafia thing." Suna said, sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the table.

You all were addressed to a table with ten seats. It looked like Itachiyama was paired up with Inarizaki and another household you were yet to discover. The atmosphere was already stiff, as Sakusa kept throwing dirty glares at the twins.

"Impressive how you're doing well inside the yakuza. I thought you weren't going to last a month." Atsumu snickered as Osamu and the others ignored everything around them, getting ready for the dinner.

You mimicked their actions before Izuna joined you; you tensed seeing him taking the seat by your left.

Sakusa sat by your right, side-glancing at you. It looked like he had a newfound interest since the interaction with Oikawa earlier.

To your surprise, Seijoh was addressed to your table. Though, both Oikawa and Iwaizumi — Suna let you know his name and the fact he was also a Kobun — said nothing, sensing the tension hanging in the air.

None of the men said anything as the food started to be served. Instead, they busied themselves with the entree, keeping the smalltalk inside their household circle.

You heard Osamu saying something about the wine but you didn't register it. Soon enough, the waiters brought the main course in silver trays.

It smelled fabulous and your mouth watered at the scent.

"A lovely meal for the lady. Please enjoy it, I'm sure you won't forget this occasion." The blond waiter said, as he uncovered your plate. You took in the deep red sauce made of berries and the way the meat was perfectly cooked.

With fork and knife in hand, you went for it.

And indeed, you wouldn't forget the occasion.

Sliding the meat over the plate, you noticed it  hiding something. The scream was caught in your throat as you recognized the obnoxious structure, because years of unveiling the human anatomy would never fail you.

The cutlery clattered in the porcelain surface, spilling the sauce all over you. The white of your dress was now tainted with crimson, as if blood seeped out of your chest.

But you didn't even feel it. All you felt were hands shaking your body, trying to draw some reaction from you. The screams also came in a white noise through your ears, because all you could register was the sight before your eyes.

In the middle of the plate, a finger rested limp and dirty. Dead.

In a similar manner, you did too. 

Among the chaos, you sat there, also limp and dirty. At the end of a promise of death.

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