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#this is specifically for me and myself alone
satorusugurugurl · 1 day
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The idea of yandere gojo and geto (both at the same time) plotting against their darling reader using geto's cursed spirits to make her on them gets my mind reeling for nights 👀 wonder if my favorite writer has any thoughts on this
Perfect Prey
Characters: Yadere!Geto Suguru, Yadere!Gojo Satoru,FAB!Reader
Warnings: yandere!Geto/Gojo, manipulation, dub! con read is unaware that the boys are manipulating her! (consent is vital for me!!) double penetration, smut, mentions of wounds, cursing
Word Count: 3,404
A/N: Ah! thank you Nonnie! This made me smile! Oooh, this, this was fun. I loved getting into this! I hope y’all enjoy it!! (I really enjoyed writing for Suguru 🥵)
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“I finally got my own mission!” Geto and Gojo glanced up at you as you proudly walked into the first-year's classroom. “Took years, but I think they finally realized I’m fully capable of destroying a curse or two by myself!”
Geto gave you a warm smile, resting his chin on his fist. “Is that so? Funny, I thought we made it clear one of us was supposed to accompany you on any mission.” He shut his eyes, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“Oh, that’s a good one, Suguru!” You excitedly plopped down on Gojo’s desk, kicking your feet back and forth. “All jokes aside, they did want to send one of you with me.”
“Wanted to send one of us?” Satoru questioned, dipping his chin to watch you.
The two men watched you closely as your pretty head nodded. “Yaga said,” you tilted your chin at Satoru, “You were assigned to come with me, Satoru. But seeing as you just returned from your mission, I insisted that I could handle a couple of curses on my own.” Gojo scoffed, his head turning to give Suguru a look of disbelief. “Oh, don't look at him like that!” Sure, the duo were best friends, but their silent communication between stolen glances made you feel left out.
“I don't think me coming back from a mission, which I handled easily because I’m Gojo Satoru, of course. Means I can't come with you. They assigned us this together.” The white-haired man’s time was thick with annoyance. “For a specific reason, I’m assuming.”
You cocked an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two men. “Why would the Gojo Satoru be needed to exorcise a handful of low-grade curses?” Looking at Gojo, you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “You know what—why do they even send you both you're Special-grades?” Before you could question them, Geto chuckled, soft and rich.
“Ignore Satoru; he’s just being clingy. Congratulations on your first solo mission.” Pride swelled in your chest at his acknowledgment. You happily kicked your feet faster as Geto reached over, ruffling your hair. “Just promise to be careful, and if you need any help, please know we’re but a phone call away.”
“Thank you.” The condescending tone of your voice has Satoru clenching his jaw. “I’ll get this mission done so fast, you won't even notice I’m gone!”
Geto pulled his hand back, nodding, dark hair swaying as you slid off the seal. “Be safe; we’ll see you at home.”
“I will! See you both later!”
Geto smiled, waving until the door shut, and he could no longer hear your footsteps down the hall. The instant he was confident that you weren't around, his smile fell, eyes narrowed at the door. Gojo was fuming, pulling his blindfold down, letting it pool around his neck. Between the two men, their anger could freeze Hell over.
“This is problematic.” Geto rubbed at the pulsing sensation in his temple.
“Problematic? No, this is a disaster if she gets through this mission, which we know she will! She's going to get more solo missions. Solo missions turn into group missions, with other sorcerers, other men.”
“And we can't have that. No one is good enough to protect her, let alone breathe the same air.”
Gojo sat on the edge of the desk, watching as his best friend tapped his thumb against the center of his forehead. Between the two of them, they would find a way to fix this sticky situation. Their solution had to be clean. They couldn’t have you finding out that they were the ones responsible for your lack of solo missions. The two pulled strings to ensure you were always with them.
Some might call them possessive and obsessive. But they didn't see it like that. They just knew no one on the face of the planet would ever be good enough for you. You were their darling little princess. The keywords are theirs and theirs alone.
“We could tell Yaga to pull her off, tell a white lie like maybe she changed her mind.”
“No, no, that would look suspicious. She went through all the trouble, convincing him to let her go alone. After all that, for us to ask that, she would start asking questions. We can’t have her knowing we’re responsible for her lack of solo missions.”
“Okay, do you have any ideas?” When Geto said nothing, Gojo sighed, exasperated, feeling Geto’s eyes on him. “It would be easier if we showed her how ‘dangerous’ these solo missions can be.”
A lightbulb went off in Geto’s mind. “Satoru~” he purred, “that’s a brilliant idea.” The other man furrowed crisp white brows in confusion. “She thinks it’s just a handful of curses, right?”
“Yeah?”
“It would be a shame if there were more curses than she could handle,” Geto smirked, specks of black forming behind his shoulder, his curses coming to life, revealing his intentions.
Satoru grinned wide with a sharp laugh. “That truly would be a shame, wouldn’t it? Poor sweetheart will have to call us to help.” Geto nodded, motioning for Satoru to follow.
“Come on, we got shit to do.”
Later that night, you were scrambling off the ground, wincing as the fifteen curses chased you around the corner of the abandoned building. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You screamed, palms bleeding, knees scraped up as you stumbled back to your feet, barely avoiding the sharp teeth of the curse behind you.
This was supposed to be a simple job! One where there would be maybe two or three curses to take out! Three were okay! You were able to handle that on your own. But after you took them out, you suddenly found yourself surrounded by dozens of curses. All of them ranged from different grades, from four to two, but a couple gave off a darker presence, possibly special grades, which was not good.
How the hell did three curses turn into three dozen?! How could the intel be so off?! And how the hell were you going to get out of this?!
A low snarling snapped you out of your frantic thoughts before the curse in front of you swiped at your stomach with very long and very sharp claws. You dodged, falling back onto the ground, watching it close in on you. This was not good, not in the slightest, and it didn’t help that you were all alone!
Scrambling back, you pushed yourself off the ground, ducking into a room, slamming the door. “Goddamn, fuck me.” Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you called the two strongest men of the modern age. Sure, there was a one hundred and fifty percent chance they'd boast about how they were right, how you needed to listen to them, but that didn’t matter right now! “Pick up! Pick up, pick up!”
The phone rang and rang and rang. Just when you thought it would go to voicemail, the line clicked. Gojo yawned on the other line without a care in the world. “Hello~?” He cooed, listening to the raspy breathing.
“Satoru!” You gulped down breaths of air. “Toru, I need help!” You screamed as a curse slammed against the door.
Gojo covered the receiver, snickering as Geto eyed the building you were in. “What was that? You need our help?”
“Yes!” you cried out, “Satoru! Please help!!”
“Are you sure? I mean, I am considered a Special Grade; low-grade curses are something I shouldn’t worry about, right?”
Geto’s curse smashed through the door, dashing at you. He swore he could hear your scream through Satoru’s phone. His poor princess is getting chased around by his curses. This could have been easily avoided if you didn’t insist on taking on this mission alone. Unfortunately for you, the choices you made led to this outcome.
Your heart was hammering against your rib cage as you slipped and maneuvered around the curses slowly surrounding you. This was way out of your league, and you were beginning to regret now bringing one of the boys with you. Plus, Satoru wouldn’t drop everything and come running to your rescue, not after everything you’d said earlier.
“Toru, please.” Pleading was something you rarely did, but Satoru’s ego had been bruised, so you had to do what needed to be done. “Please, I'm begging you.”
Both Gojo and Geto exchanged a look with each other. “You beg so nicely,” Satoru commented, listening to a loud crashing sound followed by your curse. “I suppose I could come, maybe bring Suguru too.”
“Y-Yes! Yes, please!”
“On one condition.”
Despite the fact dozens of curses were chasing you, you stopped dead in your tracks. “Condition?! What fuckin’ condition?!”
“You never take a solo mission again.”
After this endeavor, he didn’t even have to ask you to do that. “Y-Yes! I agree. Just fucking hurry!” In the blink of an eye, the tall white-haired man teleported before you with Geto by his side. The curse that had been charging at you slammed hard against Gojo’s infinity before being forced back as the white-haired man stepped forward.
You fell to your knees, panting heavily as Geto peered down at you from over his shoulder. “Are you alright?” You just nodded your head, glancing down at your bleeding hands. “You don’t look alright.” You could smell the woodsy musk
as Geto knelt in front of you. “Give me.” He gently grabbed your hand, examining the scraps on the heels of your hand.
”Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Gojo chastised as he grabbed you and Geo, teleporting the three of you back to their apartment. “Guess your first solo mission didn’t quite go as well as you planned now, did it?”
There was no retort or sharp comeback because he was right. Even if the intel had been wrong, you couldn't handle this mission on your own. You had failed after you insisted that you could handle this mission without any hiccups. Now, that confidence was replaced with shame and disbelief. You had to call on your colleagues for assistance. After they warned you that this is something you wouldn’t be able to handle.
The two men who had orchestrated this scheme watched you with unreadable expressions—on the outside, their demeanor seemed unnerved, while on the inside, they were swelling with pride and excitement. Seeing you so distraught and broken had their pants tightening at the almost broken, blank look in your eyes.
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Suguru announced, lifting you and ushering you towards the bathroom. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. You’re not the only sorcerer who isn't capable of handling three dozen cursed spirits on their own. Not everyone is as strong as Satoru and I.”
Suguru moves to the shower, turning it on as you remain still, the events of the evening replaying over in your mind. “Suguru’s right. Not everyone would have handled a situation like that. You should be grateful, though. You’re lucky enough to have us willing to come to your beck and call.” Satoru is moving in front of you, holding your hands over the sink, running hot water over the wounds. “If we hadn’t shown up when we did, you could have died.” The truth of his words had your head jerking up, meeting crystalline eyes.
“I-I could have died.” The monotone repetition of his own words had Satoru’s cock throbbing at the broken throaty words that left your mouth.
“You could have.” He agreed, pressing his lips against your neck. “But you didn’t because we saved you.”
“I-I know.” You whispered as Geto joined your side. “You saved me.”
Hands, hot and rough, ran over the mounds of your breasts, gripping your hips, manhandling you in ways they had done in the past. There had been nights when the three of you had been so bored you just decided to hook up or when they just needed a little stress relief. This time, however, felt monumentally different. Like they were holding their breath, holding themselves back. Their stoic bodies jittered with anticipation, waiting to see what happened next.
To you, it was them being pent up, maybe the adrenaline rushing through their systems. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you felt just as pent up. Almost dying had you wanting to cave into your raw human desires. While the men standing on either side of you shared one of their infamous knowing glances. They weren’t driven by the adrenaline and passion of what had happened. Not in the slightest. No, their desire was driven by pure, unfiltered joy.
They finally had you right where they wanted you. Broken. You had lost a fight you knew you could have won. Due to them, your confidence in your abilities was clouded by a fabricated series of events.
First, you’d be broken, not taking missions alone any further. The next phase would be to distance you from the school slowly. Trying to convince you that you didn’t need to worry about working, the two made more than enough money to provide for the three of you. If all went according to plan, you would be their perfect little live-in girlfriend in no time.
What made all of this ten times better was the fact that you had no idea tonight's events had left you in their web of lust and desire. They were the spiders, and you were the poor innocent fly—a fly about to be devoured in the most primal ways imagined.
“Thank you for saving me.”
”Nu-uh.”
“We did save you, so you need to thank us properly.”
The men pressed lips against you, hands trailing over your body. You melted against them, gasping as hands cupped your breasts, hard cocks rubbing against your hips as they ground against you. They did save you, didn’t they? They went above and beyond to stop what they were doing and come to your aid.
“Y-Yeah, I think I will.” You whispered, turning to kiss each man on the mouth before sinking to your knees. “Please, let me thank you.”
Two thick long cock were suddenly in your face, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from angry, flushed tips. Seeing as your hands were scrapped up and ran, you took turns sucking and licking each man's cock, while they jerked off. Your tongue flicked, swirled, and lapped the two cocks, until their cum spurted over your face coating your lips and cheeks. Your appreciation didn’t stop there. You pulled both fully clothed men into the shower with you, tugging their clothes off and discarding them over the shower door.
Satoru and Suguru both help you, lifting you, your legs wrapping around Satoru’s waist as Geto’s wet, chiseled chest pressed firmly over your back. Both cock’s teased your wet cunt’s entrance, rubbing over against each other as you whined softly, tilting your head back. Their cocks both pressed past the tight opening of your pussy, stretching your walls in a painful yet pleasurable way, leaving your cock drunk the deeper they sunk into your wet heat.
A minute was all they allowed you to take to attempt to adjust yourself to the sensation of having two cocks buried inside of you. They were bullying inside of you. Satoru’s cock kissed your cervix with each thrust, While Suguru rubbed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way. Perhaps if you had been a good girl and just left everything as it was, they would have taken it easier on you. Regretfully, in their eyes, you had almost ruined their carefully constructed ploy to make you theirs in every sense of the word. Due to that, you were going to be punished severely.
Their thrusts were hard, deep, and almost painful. Fucking into you as if you were just a sex toy rather than a human being. Satoru’s teeth dug painfully into your shoulder, leaving indentations in his wake. Suguru’s mouth trailed kissed over the nap of your neck, mouth gentler than Satoru but his hands were as cruel as the white-haired man's. He pinched and pulled at your nipples, yanking them until you cried out his name before releasing his grip. The relief never lasted long; as soon as the dull, stinging sensation subsided, Suguru returned to the painful teasing.
The kisses, touch, and thrusts weren’t the only way they were mean to you. Their words stung just as bad as the scrapes on your hands and the abrasions to your knees. If you hadn’t been crying from the mere overstimulation of pained pleasure, their words might have had your eyes watering just as much.
”Our stupid dirty slut, getting herself into such a fucked up me.”
”Yes, dragging us both out to save her.”
“Then, on top of everything we did. Going out of our way to save her after she blatantly told us she was fine, she still gets fucked good like the whore that she is.”
”Yeah, she might not be able to take on a cursed spirit, but she’s sure good at taking two dicks at the same time.”
Their words had your skin flushing in shame and need, your mouth dropping into an ‘O’ as the abdomen in your lower abdomen started to tighten. “Oooh, fuk, please, ha—ah fuuck.” You were so close, so damn close to either passing out or having the most intense orgasm of your life. If you were lucky, which didn’t seem likely after all the mishaps today, maybe, just maybe, you could experience both. “G-Gonna cum, please.”
”You hear that Satoru, our little cock slut wants to cum.”
Satoru’s hips began to jerk faster, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix thrust after thrust. “Does she even deserve it?” He continued, leaving pain over your skin, his tongue brushing over the marks.
“P-Please, oooh god, please don’t tease”
“Hm, what do you say, Suguru? Nngh fuck—“ Satoru hammered his hips into you, thrust after thrust, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. “Should our precious girl cum?”
“Aaahh yes~ let her cum, make her take both our loads, then once she catches her breath, we fuck her even more.”
Reaching between your bodies, Satoru rubbed your clit, making your walls twitch around the two monster cocks inside of you. Their pace matches the others, working in harmony to send you over the edge. A scream, one that had never left you before, echoes inside the steamy shower. “C-Cummin! Cumming!” You screamed over and over until both of you stiffened, ropes of thick hot cum filling you.
“Take it bitch, take every last drop, milk me dry.” Satoru was always more vocal, nipping and sucking at your ear as his whiny groans invaded your mind.
“P-Princess, mmmhm, fuuuck.” Unlike Satoru, who was all about talking and heaving his voice, Suguru was softer, moans deep and feral, but he didn’t feel the need to announce it to the entire apartment complex. “Fillin’ you up so good~”
They both did; their hot cum leaked out of you, running down their softening shafts. In the shower, you hummed, listening to the tittering splatter in the water washing over you. The peaceful moment lasted for but a second as both men pressed kisses on your shoulder.
“You belong to us.”
“Do you understand?”
As their wandering hand dug into your skin, you nodded. Rocking slightly against them with a helpless whine. “Yes, yeah, I belong to you both!” The two friends shared a cold, knowing smirk as you began thrusting into you harder, making your eyes roll back into your head as loud moans wrecked through you. Little did you know how serious they both were.
You belonged to them in every way, shape, and form, whether you liked it or not.
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ash-says · 3 days
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Being in touch with your sensuality:
On today's episode of ash-says we are going to talk about how to get in touch with your sensuality. Personally it's something I am very passionate about and kind of indulgent too.
Sensuality helps me in feeling alive and in tune with myself. I can't guarantee it for everyone but for me it works wonders. It's like the "Amrut" or "rejuvenating water" (for a lack of better terms) for me. Along with that it's the most healthy way for expressing my sexuality and keeping it in control to not let it affect my day to day functioning.
Here are some ways I incorporated in the last five years of my life to be in touch with my sensuality:
1) Exercise: No matter what I am going to vouch for this always. The way it helps me in expressing the surplus energy and controlling my desires is a chef's kiss. Plus helps in tackling the sluggish feeling.
2) Dance: Especially the slow sensual seductive dance. Not only it's a good outlet but above all that it validates the emotions and creates a space to delve in it to create a beautiful synchronisation with the body movements.
3) Art: Create! Create! Create! Nothing better than creating beautiful art or writing poems, stories,etc to voice your passion for the world and it's offerings.
4) Music: I have playlists on Spotify that specifically cater to my sensual mood. It has all the songs that can set a tone for the bedroom (iykyk). Singing to it or dancing works wonders. It's a magical experience.
5) Meditation: You can meditate on those feelings to internalize it and put all that energy in proper use for achieving a goal,etc. This is something I very rarely do because I am a very active person but putting it out here cause it works for some people.
6)Play Barbie: This is my personal favourite. After all I am just a girl. I put on some makeup, wear a bold sexy outfit or a cute dress (depending on the mood) then spend my time reading a romance novel and listening to sensual songs. It's my kind of therapy🦋🦋
7) Be a model: Being all dressed up but not clicking any photos you got to be kidding me!!! Come on girl! Pose and click! You are not going to be this young again. The best thing I do is this. It literally helps in skyrocketing my confidence. I don't click pictures daily but boy when I do, God forbid!!
8) Unlearn the shame: The basic one. You need to own your body first and appreciate it. I know saying is easy but hey you won't get there if you never start.
9) Imitate things that you find sexy: I will explain this with an example, so I find laying on the bed on my chest with my legs dangling in the air extremely sexy so when I am alone I will lie on the bed in that way as a way of expressing. Secondly, we all know sipping wine while reading a book is incredibly sexy while being dressed all slutty but I don't consume alcoholic beverages so as an alternative I drink pomegranate juice. Plus I find pomegranate as the sexiest fruit for obvious reasons.
10) Invest in things that make you feel sensual and seductive: It doesn't need to be costly. Find your sexy and invest!! For me it's aroma candles, jewellery, deep neck tops, skirts, ribbons, art honestly I have developed a knack to turn any ordinary thing into something seductive atp I feel. Everything works for me. So exploreeee!! If you are experimental enough and don't have parental risks you can try out sex toys too.
That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.
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spookyspecterino · 3 days
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Back to You Again
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Tangerine x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Injury, mention of blood, mention of death/fear of death, arguing/bickering, swearing. Serious idiots in love who have a little trouble expressing their feelings and choose the wrong time to do it.
You've been gone a little while. A few months to be specific. Why? Tangerine can only guess, but he's not happy about it.
Requested by @nocturnest. I'm so sorry this took so long. I started it thinking it was going to be short and then 7K words flew out. 😬Anyway, thanks for your request. It's been a long time since I wrote anything seriously and this was really good for me. Hope you enjoy!
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“Laser cutter. Three auto-rifles. Two handguns. Three boxes of ammo each.”
Check.
The binoculars are heavy duty, and the metal texture grates your fingers as you pull them up to peer through the lenses into the next building over. A high-rise that had at least 30 floors. All windowed at least, which made this a little easier on you.
“In through the fifth-floor service area. Through the employee hallway to the service elevator.”
A map of the building laid next to you on the gravel roof. It hadn’t been easy to get your hands on it, but it was worth it for a building as secure as this. No security measure had been overlooked by this man and as paranoid as he seemed it went a long way to his credibility.
“In and out through the service elevator. 20 mins tops. Oh, the jammer.”
A handheld device that you’d paid top dollar for. Yes, it has duct tape holding pieces of it together, and the screen was a repurposed old Gameboy front, but it is the best your back-channel dealer could provide.
How did anyone do anything without a handler these days?
The jammer would save you the trouble (if things turned sideways) of dealing with reinforcements. It flickers to life by flipping a switch smoldered to its side. The thing really does look like a piece of garbage. And, despite what the dealer said, the duct tape and flimsy-ness of it
Several frequencies and networks flashed across the screen, all of them belonging to the building you were surveying. Scrolling through, only a few needed to be shut down, too many and it would raise alarms.
Wifi was the last to be turned off and then you would really need to book it inside.
Everything planned out to a T. Entrance and exits mapped. Back-up plans (and back-up plans to those back-up plans) in place. Extra weapons and ammo in case you had to go out guns blazing. This should be no problem.
“Office-penthouse on the top floor. Computer terminal on the desk, west side.”
Get to the computer, get the files, destroy everything. If you happened to kill the son of a bitch, well, that was a bonus.
You sigh and rub your face, trying to work out the stress lines that seemed to make a permanent home between your brows. “Now I just need to stop talking to myself.”
It was an unfortunate habit you’d picked up in the last few months of working alone. Usually, you had… no. This was no time to think of them, or of him. You have to focus. After this is done, you can go back and apologize, even grovel if you have to.
But now is the time for focus.
In the middle of repeating this mantra, one you’ve been repeating for the last month, you happen to look up at the street. Not for any real reason, nothing had drawn your attention. Nothing was amiss in your perfect plan.
Except two very familiar faces walking down the sidewalk.
Lemon and Tangerine.
Clad in their typical attire. Snazzy suits, dress shoes, and ties.
Your stomach does several things. First it flips at the sight of Tangerine as he saunters with his hands in his pockets, then it sinks and twists into painful knots.
“No, no, no!”
They can’t be here! Anywhere but here!
The two walked casually down the sidewalk, as if they were taking a nice midday stroll. No rifles, no car, nothing. Either they were ballsy as hell…or wildly misinformed about this building and the man inside.
Something in you hoped, prayed, they would pass the building. That they were going somewhere else.
They took a sharp turn to cross the street—toward the building entrance—and your breath turned ragged, your blood chilled. At the same time, your mind was churning with practicality, cold and calculated ideas. Some nasty part of you that had gotten you this far in such a dangerous career, that had nestled in you a long time ago and only now resurfaced in the months of being alone.
You could just walk away; they have their job, and they’re professionals. They can handle themselves.
You could go in after and clean up without ever being seen. Easy. The plan you made could still work, Tangerine and Lemon would be a perfect distraction.
But you were already moving. Lega working on their own and putting you into motion. Fingers tapping off the Wi-Fi signal on the jammer while you slung your duffle bag over your shoulder.
This was not the plan, you argued with yourself as you flew down the back stairs. You’ll get yourself killed being this reckless and impulsive. What happened to in and out in 20 mins?
With every point you made the other side of your mind made a counterpoint.
They’re underprepared. They’re misinformed. They don’t have the firepower to walk in the front door, hell, they don’t have enough bullets to make it to the second floor.
“God damn it!” You yelled, taking the stairs down two at a time. Your voice echoed off the walls in the cramped stairwell. The rifles in your duffle bag clattered and banged together.
They’d be killed. Tangerine and Lemon would be killed. You couldn’t let that happen.
. . .
“I say we take a hostage and negotiate our way up.”
“Yeah, sure, Lemon.”
“This guy’s what, a tech billionaire, or something?”
“Probably.”
“Ok, so he’s a nerd. Easy job.”
“Uh-huh.”
Lemon shoots his brother a less than happy look. Tangerine is staring off into space with a slight frown, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he hunches over a little. Which wasn’t new, he’d been doing that a lot lately. A reflection of his dour mood.
Lemon rolls his eyes. “Oh, mate. Come on. We’re on a job.”
Tangerine shrugs, frowning harder. “I’m fuckin’ aware of that, Lemon.”
“Then stop with your sulking! What have I told you?”
“No—” Tangerine waves a hand, “—you don’t need to say it again—”
“Just send her a letter or something. She’d love it.”
Tangerine groans, he’s starting to get a headache now as they near the target building. “As I’ve said before, I attached letters on the flowers I sent.”
Lemon opens his mouth, but Tangerine cuts him off. “And I sent more than one bouquet. For fuck’s sake, her house probably looks like a tropical rainforest by now.”
“What about—”
“I’ve sent her presents. Jewelry. Perfume. A new phone in case hers was broken. Fuckin’ hell I even had her porch repainted.”
“And she didn’t say anything?”
“Nothing.”
Lemon hesitates. “Did you say you’re sorry?”
Now Tangerine was about to lose it. His eye twitched, not that his brother could see it. “Sorry for what? She’s the one that up and disappeared without a word.”
“I still think you should say it. Just to cover your bases.”
“I’m not apologizing. We were all perfect and you know that. She was happy as a clam and if something was wrong, she would have told me.”
“Then why’d she—”
“You’re really getting on my fucking nerves, Lemon.”
They were across the street from the main entrance now. Two glass doors with golden handles reflected the brothers. In sync they both took a sharp turn toward them. Through the glass they didn’t see anyone else in the lobby and there was a long, chest high counter with a clerk along the far back wall.
Neither of them blinked at how empty the lobby was. Their client had said this target was some kind of informant, but that was about it. They’d paid half up front and sent them on their merry way.
Tangerine yanked open the glass door, holding it for Lemon. He was beyond pissed and just wanted this to be over with. Despite his complaints he was still mulling over what his brother said. Should he apologize, even though he had done nothing wrong? He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and he had thought back on all the times you’d been with them, working a job or not.
He’d been happy, he thought you were happy too.
The white floor tiles of the lobby were so shiny they could check their reflections in them. The whole place was upstanding and flaunted wealth. On both sides of the spacious lobby were two silver elevators. The clerk, a lady in her mid-thirties, looked up at them as they walked in. She picked up a phone and turned away as she spoke.
It took them 10 seconds to reach the desk, and, in that time, Lemon had pulled out his gun.
He pointed it at her now. “Hang up the phone.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Not the usual response someone has when a gun is pointed at them, but she slowly hangs up.
“Come out from behind the desk, slowly.”
There’s a moment when she does nothing. Then, “No.”
Tangerine blinks, then pulls out his own gun. “Did you really just say no? Listen lady—”
She leans forward over the desk, leering. “Turn around and get the fuck out.”
Lemon shoots into the wall slightly to her left. She doesn’t even flinch at the sound. “I will fucking shoot you. Get out. From behind. The desk.”
She leans back. “Cute gun.”
Tangerine starts to get a sinking feeling. He turns to Lemon, about to say they should take a walk (maybe find a back entrance to this place instead) when the woman pulls out .22 Uzi from somewhere in the desk. They only catch a glimpse of the muzzle before they start shooting wildly and ducking.
Lemon takes a shot to the chest with a grunt. Tangerine hears the bullets whizzing past him and shattering glass.
The desk clerk turns disappearing behind an employee door seamlessly built into the wall.
They crouch down next to the desk. Tangerine’s head pounds, as it usually does when a job gets out of control.
“You alright?” He reloads his gun, watching his brother carefully.
Lemon checks himself over, patting his chest and stomach. “Yeah, all good, the vest caught it. This is fucked what do we do—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish as both elevators open and squads of heavily armored men pour out. They all have automatic rifles and black Kevlar vests.
“Behind the desk!” Tangerine shouts, pulling Lemon up.
They jump over just as the bullets start flying. Glass shatters, wood splinters, tiles crack. It’s utter chaos and Tangerine and Lemon can only sit behind cover.
“I think we might be fucked!” Lemon shouts, checking his gun.
Tangerine grits his teeth, mind racing. “The client didn’t mention this level of security! I’m going to wring their fucking neck!”
“We’re outmatched!”
“No question, Lemon! Thanks for pointing that out!” Tangerine can feel his brother’s rising anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
 “What do we do?!”
“We hope to God this is all of them and try our best to make it out of here!”
“You’re saying—”
Tangerine fires blindly from behind the desk. “Yes, we bail on this job and break our client’s fucking legs!”
The onslaught never seems to end. These assholes are top security and they’re trained well. Their shots chip away at the desk piece by piece, Tangerine and Lemon can feel the bullets violently embed themselves in the wood against their backs.
Tangerine glances at the employee door, there’s no handle and no way to pry it open. He figures there’s a remote control that opens it somewhere from behind. He tries to remain calm, think of a way out that isn’t behind at least 10 guys with rifles.
What would you do in this situation? His heart feels like it’s been pierced with a lance as he thinks of you. Obviously, you would never be caught in a situation like this. You were careful, practical, methodical in the way you planned out jobs.
He wished you were here with him.
Instinctually, his hand reaches into his pocket, grabbing his phone. Lemon watches him with something close to sympathy on his face.
Your number is on speed dial. Tangerine presses a button and holds it up to his ear.
It goes straight to voicemail.
The automated answering machine has become very familiar to him these last few months. Were you checking his voicemails? He’d left you enough to fill up your mailbox, he was sure of it.
“Please leave a message after the tone.”
He hopes you can hear him over the sound of gunshots.
“Yeah, look. Lemon and I, we’re in a bit of a pickle. I was really hoping you would answer this time ‘cause we need help. Since you didn’t, I just wanted to say that you’re a real prick for leaving us the way you did. And you haven’t said a single thank you or anything for all the gifts I’ve sent. Poor Lemon has been wondering where you went off to.” He pauses. This wasn’t the way he wanted to start this message, but every other attempt at getting your attention has failed.
“You know how I feel, I’ve made that pretty clear. But right now, I’m just pissed. Nothing has worked, so I’m going to break into your house and wait for you to come home.”
Lemon gives him a startled look, shakes his head from side to side.
Tangerine frowns. “Don’t take that the wrong—Alright, I won’t break into your house, but I will wait on your doorstep. Every day, I’ll be there until I see you.”
Lemon is still frowning, but Tangerine ignores him.
“This is all because…Well, I…” He struggles, throat turning dry and closing around the words he wants to say. Instead of continuing, he hangs up.
Sitting back against the desk he exhales. The gunfire has stopped to an occasional patter here and there.
Lemon runs a hand through his hair. “Bruv, what the fuck was that?”
“A last-ditch effort at getting some backup.”
They fell into silence; the lobby was eerily quiet. They knew the security team was just waiting for them to come out from behind the desk. The air crackled with energy.
Lemon checked his pockets. “I’ve got two clips left, you?”
“One and a half.”
The look they share conveys their doubts, their dread. An unspoken conversation passes between them.
Tangerine puts it in the back of his mind. “I’ll run out first, then you go a few seconds later.”
“No way, we go at the same time.”
He shakes his head but arguing only puts off the inevitable.
“Go to the opposite side of the desk.”
They split, crouching behind opposite corners. There was no way either of them would be able to make it two steps without taking 10 rounds to the chest. The image of you stays in Tangerine’s mind. He just wished he could see you again. Whatever comes next, afterlife or not, he hoped you—or some form of you—would be in it.
Tangerine gives Lemon one last look, finds that his brother is watching him, and gives him a somber nod. He holds his gun up, takes a deep breath, gets ready to run…
He’s out from behind the desk, gritting his teeth and firing in a flash.
He hits one, another to his left falls from Lemon’s bullets. His legs are shaky, he can feel them trembling.
Rifles take aim.
Tangerine opens his mouth to urge Lemon on.
And a grenade goes off.
The loud bang startles him, his ears ring and a second later he’s shrouded in white, smokey fog. Tangerine stops, confused, looking around to try and find Lemon. But a strong hand yanks him and drags him back. He stumbles, scattering empty bullet shells along the ground, and falls onto the tile.
He’s back behind the desk. Lemon falls next to him.
A pair of legs stands between the brothers. Next to them lies a green duffle bag. Empty rifle shells fall to the ground. Tangerine didn’t even realize guns were firing. He followed the legs up in one long sweep of his eyes.
. . .
A million and one things were going through your mind as you fired an automatic rifle at the security team in the lobby. The biggest thing was holding back every fiber of your damn being from screaming at Tangerine and Lemon for being so foolish.
If you had been a breath later, a second too late, these idiots would be laying in a pile of their own blood on the floor. That thought definitely won’t haunt you for a few months.
The other thing you were concentrating on was ignoring the way Tangerine was staring at you right now. He’s not hurt—you kept repeating, over and over again. He’s ok.
The security team was scattering for cover, but finding little, making your job easy as the last of the smoke cleared. They hadn’t been expecting someone to come in from behind and you’d shot a few in the back before throwing the smoke grenade. Only a few were left now.
They seemed to get over their surprise and began firing back, opening the elevators, and using the inside cabins for cover. Keeping the doors open would stop them from being sent back up for more goons to come through. That was good.
You duck down behind the desk. They were still staring at you.
“Yes! Hello!” You stubbornly gritted out while staring into the wood.
Tangerine’s mouth opened and closed many times, but no words came out. That didn’t mean Lemon wasn’t able to say anything.
“Did you get his message?” He was grinning like some kind of fool.
“Message? Which one?”
Was he talking about the hundreds of messages—texts, voicemails, and letters—Tangerine had been sending on a weekly basis? Yes, you’d gotten them. Read every single one. It had been hard enough sleeping normally, after all that you hadn’t been able to sleep at all. The guilt was overwhelming.
Lemon’s eyes dart to his brother. You did the same and regretted it immediately.
Tangerine’s eyes were practically bulging from his head. His mustache twitched.
Oh, he’s pissed.
You quickly look away and clear your throat. “Are you on a job?”
“Yeah, a shit one. We were just trying to bail.”
“Can’t blame you. What happened, bad intel?”
Tangerine’s voice resembled a growl, it grated against your ear, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “Understatement of the century, love.”
Love. Love. Love.
Lemon wipes his forehead. “What’re you doing here?”
“I have my own problems with your target.” You turn to Lemon but feel Tangerine’s eyes burning a hole in your back. “I was about to sneak in when I saw you two walking down the street.” You check your gun, then rummage through the duffle bag for another clip.
“A massive coincidence then?” Lemon was holding back a smile, eyes darting to Tangerine occasionally. It was as if they weren’t just about to die only five minutes ago.
“If you two still want to bail, that’s fine with me. I’ll give you a window after taking the rest out. I’m going to push on.”
Tangerine spins you around by the shoulder to face him. “Are you fucking mental?”
You’re very close together. The determination it takes not to just lean in and…
Speaking slow, you’re focusing your words and hoping it gets through to him. “Your target has info on me that could get people hurt and ruin my reputation. I need to wipe his computer.”
For all his credit, Tangerine takes you seriously in that moment, even as he looks like he might commit murder. He looks to Lemon—they do that ‘sibling conversation’ without words that they’re so good at.
“We’ll stick around to help.”
“You sure?”
Something in him ignites. There’s a fire behind his eyes. “Fuck yes, we’re sure.”
He’s giving mixed signals now. Is he angry? Probably. But apparently not angry enough to leave you on a job alone.
“Alright…” You say, slowly backing away.
You search through the duffle bag, cold objects graze your fingers, you can identify them each by touch. The laser cutter has a rubber handle. “Lemon—" You toss it to him. “—Cut a hole in the employee door. Tangerine—” You grab another rifle, placing it into his hands. “—Help me take out the last of the guys.”
He takes the rifle and for a moment your hands touch. You expect him to flinch away, or recoil, but he lingers there for a moment. His golden rings gleam—of course he wore them, he never leaves them behind—and catch your eyes until he takes the gun from you.
Fucking confusing.
It had been months, but the three of you worked together like no time had passed at all. Tangerine falling in sync with you, watching your back. Working in tandem, the few remaining riflemen dropped like flies.
“Doors open!” Lemon shouted tapping you and Tangerine’s shoulder.
The three of you waste no time dashing into the small service hallway. Tangerine grabbed the duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. You were just about to pick it up, but he gave you a look.
There wasn’t as much polish to this part of the building, the lighting was dimmer, and it lacked the white tiles, replaced by a steely gray metal flooring instead. The hallway was long and narrow, its walls matched the floor in color.
“This should lead to an employee elevator. That will take us to the top office.” You panted, oddly exhilarated.
Lemon was looking down the hallway as he crouched. “Watch out for the desk clerk, she went this way.”
“Still can’t believe you both just walked in the front door…”
“We don’t all have your sense of planning, darling.” Tangerine huffed, hiking the bag higher on his shoulder.
“Did you have any sense of planning?”
“Lemon had a plan.”
You turn halfway back to face him. “You—Tangerine!”
He fixes you with an odd look. “What?”
“Lemon doesn’t even read the briefs! And you let him make the plan?” You shoot an apologetic look to Lemon. “No offense, you’re really great in every other area.”
He gives you a half smile. “I appreciate that.”
Tangerine grinds his teeth. “In my defense, the intel in the brief was already bad.” He steps closer, into your personal space. “And you always come up with the plans.”
You don’t shy away from him, in fact, you inch closer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make them, but you should know better—”
Lemon sighs, long and loud. “Can you two please focus? We’re in the middle of a dangerous situation here.”
It took a moment for you and Tangerine to resume, the closeness was intimate. Electricity crackles in the air between you.
You both say ‘Fine’ at the same time, like stubborn teenagers. The tension hadn’t settled one bit.
If Tangerine needed to be ignored for the remainder of this mission, then ok. That’s fine. No problem. That doesn’t bother you one bit. Nope.
The three of you empty the duffle bag of its contents, splitting the ammo and giving Lemon the pump action shotgun. That shotgun was your Hail Mary in case shit hit the fan—which, by your definition, it had.
You three were your own personal attack squad now, armed to the teeth.
The employee lift was at the end of the twisting hallway, metallic doors shining like a beacon. The panel to call it only had the arrow pointing up, a one-way lift. You’d poured over the maps late into the night leading up to your personal mission, often with a glass of wine, and it had struck you as odd that it only offered a one way up.
You jab at the button, and the little golden light is stark against the greys around it. Tangerine stands just behind you; you can hear his breath over your shoulder.
“Why’s it only one way?” he asks, hushed and tense.
“I asked the same question.” You responded turning a little to look at him. “I thought it might be security measures.”
“Doesn’t really make sense though, does it? It lets people like us up.” Tangerine zeroes in on your frown. “What is it?”
“There might be internal controls from the top office. This guy doesn’t fuck around with security.”
“Who is this guy anyway?” Lemon sniffs, casting a look back down the hallway.
“An asshole that likes snooping into people’s personal business.”
The brothers trade looks.
“He also works in satellite tech, undercover ops, information gathering.”
There’s a gentle bump into your shoulder. “He’s been snooping into your business, has he?”
How long is this elevator going to take?
“He has.”
“Did he try to blackmail you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he find?”
The elevator dings and the sleek metal doors slide open. The inside is full of ominous red and gold hues. The luxuriousness of it gives you the impression that the boss of the building takes it regularly.
Instead of answering, you step inside and forcefully hit the button for the top floor. Tangerine watches you carefully, studying you. Somehow, he looks like a kicked puppy, yet holding the rifle he takes on a much more sinister tone. He still looks dashing as hell in his suit though. You can see the little gold chain of his necklace around his broad neck.
Focus, focus, focus!
His mustache twitches a bit as he catches you staring. And to top that off, he stands in front of you, very closely in front. Either trying to shield you or irritate you. Possibly both.
He’s wearing the cologne you got him as a present almost a year ago.
“If there’s in house security for this lift, we should be prepared.” You shift a little to see Lemon over Tangerine’s shoulder.
“What do you suggest?”
“They know we’re coming, so we have to be fast. Their access to elevators has been blocked. All remaining security teams will need to take the stairs. This elevator opens to another employee hallway that we’ll have to exit in order to reach the office. That’s assuming—”
The elevator stutters, something above you screeches in the elevator shaft, and the panel lights flicker. All three of you stumble as it comes to an abrupt stop and the dim emergency lights switch on. They coat the interior in a faint red light, turning it into a nightmare scenario.
 You groan. “That’s assuming they don’t just turn the elevator off. Fuck.”
Lemon places the shotgun on the floor and motions to Tangerine. Together they pry the paneling off to reveal the switchboard underneath. Lemon fusses with the wiring, using a knife to cut through some and connect it to others.
Sparks fly, flashing in the dim light. Your anxiety ramps. Trapped in an elevator was not on your list of things you wanted to deal with today.
While Lemon fussed with wires, Tangerine turned back to you. “Relax.”
“Excuse me?”
“Try to stay calm, we’ll be out in a second or two.”
Your blood boiled hot. “Don’t tell me to be calm.”
Tangerine smiles at you. “I know you hate elevators.”
“They’re fine, I just particularly hate being trapped in them.”
“Just relax, I’ve got you.”
“That doesn’t help at all!”
More sparks and flickering lights and the elevator doors open an inch. Tangerine has the audacity to smirk in that moment and he touches your chin briefly. His eyes gleam in the dim light.
If you all lived, you were going to kill him.
The twins work wordlessly to pry the elevator doors open. It takes a tremendous effort and both of them are sweaty and breathing hard at the end, but there’s enough space for a person to climb through. Except, you’re going to have to jump down into the office below. Half the elevator is blocked.
“Well, good news is…” Lemon says, scratching his head, “we can get out. And if the elevator can only fall downward.”
“The elevator only goes up, Lemon.” You choke out.
“Oh. Right…well, best get a move on then.”
“I’ll go first.” Tangerine volunteers.
On instinct you reach for him. He sees the slight movement before you hold yourself back.
As if it was easy, he’s crouching down, squeezing through the doors, and jumping into the office below. All with his gun in his hand. Meanwhile, your heart is doing summersaults in your throat.
He holds his hands up, beckoning you. “Come on. You’ve done harder things than this.”
You force yourself to move, crouching down and inching toward the opening. You toss him your rifle. “Like when?”
“Like when you jumped between rooftops in Venezuela.”
“I wasn’t thinking when I did that! And in hindsight, it was fucking stupid of me.”
He laughs. “I’ve got you. Come on.”
You squeeze through the doors, imagining the elevator crashing down, the doors snapping shut, something—anything drastic, and then throw yourself at Tangerine. He catches you with practiced ease and holds you close to him.
He says something you don’t catch over the sound of your trembling breaths. There’s a pat on your shoulder, Lemon is out.
Regaining yourself, you move away from Tangerine and straighten your clothes. His brow furrows, mustache tilts down. Maybe it was your imagination, but did his fingers grip your clothes? A silent plea for you to stay?
You do your best to ignore it. “Let’s go. Did anyone catch what floor we stopped on?”
“37th.” Lemon says, handing over your gun.
“Two floors short.”
“You think they’re waiting for us?”
“I’d bet money on it. Be careful, both of you. I don’t want to see any heroics.”
Tangerine’s eyes follow you as you move to the front and lead them through the hallway at a jogging pace. The single door at the end is much like the one you entered on the first-floor lobby. There’s a control panel for it to the side. As you run up to it, you press your ear to the other side.
No noise.
Your hand hovers over the button. With one last look behind you at the twins you give them a nod, then press it. The door clicks open a fraction, and everything goes to shit.
They were waiting for you on the other side of the door and the gunfire started up immediately. Your vision was blocked immediately, and you were pushed and tugged out by a strong hand—the world was a blur of loud shots, ringing ears, and scrambling. Grey cubicles shoulder-height tall were set up along the floor, which made spotting the enemy incredibly hard. All the fighting was done in the tight walkways between the office spaces.
Your shirt had blood on it, but you had no bullet wounds. Tangerine sat beside you, holding an arm. He’d been shot in his right arm.
“I said no heroics!” You practically shrieked.
Lemon was firing between cubicles, and from the sound of it, he was holding his own.
“What was I supposed to do, love?” Tangerine pants through the pain.
“You’re supposed to let me handle it!” You’re shouting as you pull out some gauze. The bullet went straight through his upper arm. He’d need stitches but, overall, he would be ok. You poke and prod gently as he hisses with each touch.
His teeth are gritted as he grunts out, “You wanted to get shot?”
“I’d take a bullet for you, happily. You know that.”
“I feel the same way, which is what I was doing.”
“I still don’t want you to!”
“I don’t want you to, either!”
Something bounces off your back. It’s a stapler. Both you and Tangerine stare at it for a moment, confused.
“Oi! You two! Get over yourselves and actually talk about your feelings for once!”
You whip around to stare daggers at Lemon. “Did you just throw a stapler at me?!”
He’s taking cover behind a grey cubicle not too far away. “Yeah, I did! I’m sick of you two avoiding an actual conversation. Talk—it—out!”
Tangerine sits up, pushing against your hands on his chest in your weak attempt to keep him down. “You’ve lost your mind, mate!”
“Thomas would say to express your feelings, that bottling them up is bad for you! So, express them!”
“Is it really necessary—” You pick up your rifle and fire blindly down the walkway, “—to do this now? We’re a little busy!”
“It’s now or never, I know you two! Once all this stops, you’ll avoid it!”
Tangerine looks perplexed, like he’s really considering it, and you try not to look at him again. “Fuck this job!” You shout, before rolling into the walkway and opening fire.
The two or three men that hadn’t been behind cover are caught by surprise and the bullets chew through the walls of the cubicles. A deadly silence permeates the office floor, only the ringing in your ears remains.
Another shot rings out and you feel like your shoulder’s been ripped from the socket.
You’re thrown back onto the ground. It must have been a heavy round, your left arm is completely numb, do you even have an arm left?
There’s shouting and more gunshots, the grey office walls and floor merge into one as the room spins. You’re getting pulled off the ground, someone is prodding your arm. Absentmindedly, you swat at whoever is doing it.
“Listen, hey, open your eyes!”
Tangerine…
You obey. He’s inches in front of your face, brows furrowed, a vein in his forehead sticks out.
“I’m fine.” You cough out. “Just fell down, is all.”
“You’ve been shot!”
“Oh.”
He struggles, he looks like he has more to say, but stays silent. You swat at Lemon who’s wrapping your arm—or shoulder, more accurately. “I’m fine, let’s keep going.”
“You’re not fine.” Lemon grunts, pushing your hand away. “It was a .308 round. You’ll be lucky if you have any bones left in your shoulder.”
“Why’d you do that?!” Tangerine is shouting, running his hand through his hair. You both match now, he’s bandaged up on his left arm too.
“Do what?” You ask through gritted teeth as Lemon tightens the bandage.
“Run out like an absolute lunatic?”
“I told you I’d take a bullet for you.”
His eyes bug out. “You threw yourself into the line of fire!”
“All in a day’s work. Now, can we get back to it?” You don’t wait for a response, instead pushing yourself to your feet. Your left arm hangs to the side, limp and numb. A dull throb pulses through your side.
Tangerine watches you. “We need to have a serious discussion when this is over, love.”
You huff out a breath, swaying slightly. “Noted.”
The three of you push on in tense silence. Tangerine makes sure you’re behind him while the rest of the floors leading to the main penthouse office are cleared. He’s acting so stubborn, blocking you at every turn, holding you back with a gentle, yet unyielding hand. The vein in his forehead never goes away.
Finally, the double doors leading to the office are before you. Platinum gold, of course, with carved handles. This guy’s style was beginning to get obnoxious.
Lemon kicks open the doors with as much anger and prejudice as you feel (yet can’t muster at the moment). Instead of what you were expecting, the target stands alone behind his desk. He smirks, giving off a Wall Street investor impression with his pressed suit and perfectly cut hair.
He spreads his arms wide. “I really should have known you three would be together for this.”
“Shut up, wanker.” Tangerine shouts, pointing his gun.
The target opens his mouth to say more, but Tangerine doesn’t let him. He empties the clip into the man’s chest.
The target dies with a startled look on his face, falling back over his desk.
You move past Tangerine, fighting his hands that grip at your clothing. “Thank God for that.”
The computer is easily hacked, the files you’re after are on the desktop. Maybe the dead man was looking to bargain—or gloat. You glance at his dead, glazed over eyes.
Bastard.
Tangerine paces, looking at you often. His job is done, the confirmation is sent to the client through Lemon’s phone.
Your files are downloaded onto an encrypted flash drive, and you rip the wiring out of the computer’s back, smashing the server tower. Mission accomplished.
“I guess now that you have what you need, you’ll disappear again.” Tangerine is glaring at you, chewing his lip. His bandage is bloody.
The flood gates open.
“I needed these files!” You shout, worsening the headache you already have.
Tangerine shouts back, taking a step closer. “I would have understood if you had just told me!”
“I couldn’t have told you!”
“Why not?”
“Because—well—I didn’t—It doesn’t matter now!”
“So, you disappear for months, without a word, for something you won’t even tell me about?!”
“I didn’t want to involve you! I wanted to get this done myself!”
“I’m involved now!”
“It was a shitty coincidence you showed up here today, and I’m sorry you got hurt because of this job!”
“I’m not concerned about me!”
“Well, you should be! I care about your safety!”
“And I care about yours!”
In the corner, Lemon shakes his head.
You hold your arm, trying to work some feeling back into it. It throbs and you wish you hadn’t. “I would have come back after this was done.”
“Oh, really?” Tangerine laughs dryly. “How was I to know?”
You groan, throat turning dry. “You’re so impatient! I just needed a little time!”
“You know how often I tried to reach you—?”
“Yes! I heard every message, got every bouquet of flowers—and thank you for my porch, that was really nice.”
Tangerine flounders a little, he still wants to argue, but some of the steam has been let out. “A thank you would have been nice.”
“I’m thanking you now!”
“A whole good that did when I thought you were done with me—” He shoots a look at his brother, “—and Lemon!”
“I’ll say I’m sorry a thousand more times, Tangerine! Is that what you want?”
He turns his back to you, grumbling something.
“I don’t understand why it was such a big deal to you, we’re contractors! We kill people for a living, and you’re freaking out—”
He spins back around. “It’s a big deal because I thought you were hurt.” He stalks closer, you notice his hair has come undone from the neat gel, curls flair out around his neck. “I thought something happened to you!” He’s within arm’s distance now. “It’s a big deal because I love you!”
And then he stops. His eyes go wide, as if he’s just spilled a secret.
Fuck, he did just spill a secret. Maybe you had known, but he’s never said anything. It was always just little guesses here and there, a thought—a feeling—and inclination. Late nights, especially recently, that you spent thinking about it, wondering.
Your mouth falls open in the silence. “I—I…love…” but damned if your mouth just wasn’t getting it out.
Arguing and bickering was so much easier.
But he knows, he can see it in the way your eyes soften, in the way you swallow with a dry throat. In the way your hand reaches to him, and your body leans forward.
“You know…” Lemon says, looking up from his phone, “Most people would kiss at this point. Just a suggestion.”
A quip, a very fitting one, comes to mind and you’re about to tell Lemon just how you’re not normal people, when Tangerine pulls you to him. Your chest presses to his and his lips are on yours in an instant.
Hungry, needy. It’s desperate, an urgent need be close, to be touching. Burning with desire and hot with passion. You give into it.
His mustache scratches at your lips and you pull him into you, threading your fingers through his curly hair, mussing it up even more. His hands grip at your back, pull at your clothes.
Closer. You need to be closer.
Fuck air, the feeling of his lips moving against yours is the only thing you’ll ever need again.
Your arm throbs and the dull pulse shoots up to your chest. You sigh, half in pain and half in pleasure. Unfortunately, Tangerine pulls back. There’s blood on his lips and he looks concerned.
“Wait…” You mumble, trying to pull him back to you. He’s your lifeline now.
“You need a doctor, love.”
“Just a little longer.”
Tangerine chuckles, wrapping an arm around your back. “After you’re patched up. I promise.”
…Bonus…
“You’re going to ‘break into my house and wait for me to come home’?”
Tangerine groans, throwing his head back as you walk into the small office. Private clinics with ‘respectable’ doctors. Gotta love ‘em.
“Love, I didn’t mean it, I was in a life-or-death situation—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”
You give a good-natured laugh, sitting next to him. You’d been patched up first, Tangerine was just waiting for some blood work to come back.
Tangling your fingers in his you give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m just teasing, Tan. I know.”
“Ok.” He sighs, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Good.”
You ruffle through your pockets to pull out your phone, your arm stings, but the pain medication the doc gave you does wonders. “I thought about it, I think you deserve to know why I was after your target.”
He looks at you with new interest now.
You tilt your screen to show him.
It had pictures of you and Tangerine. Pictures of you sitting together at lunch, laughing. Pictures of you walking down the street together, arm in arm. Pictures of you looking like a couple.
“Oh,” he breathes out, “I see.”
“I was worried you’d be put in danger if these…well, if they got into the wrong hands.”
“Didn’t want our clients to think we were softies either, huh?”
“That too.”
He presses his face into your hair. He hasn’t expressed his feelings for you again, but you’re starting to realize he always had—just through actions instead. A gentle hand on the small of your back. Wrapping an arm around your waist. Leaning down to speak softly into your ear.
These were just as much of an expression as words.
“Will we have to do this every time?” he asks, voice muffled slightly.
“Every time what?”
“It’s only a matter of time before more pictures of us make it into someone’s hands.”
“Oh. That’s a good point.”
He pulls you a little closer. “I’ll be dammed if I have to stop taking you out over that.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to kill whoever tries something like that again.”
“We’ll do it together next time, yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
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static-symphony-fm · 2 days
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Is this thing on? 📞
Totally love playing into people’s themes for their little ask bit it’s a hobby of mine 🤭🤭 idc if it’s cringe it’s a fun time but hiyaaaaa babes I had an idea for Jason for my own writing but I cannot physically bring myself to write it so I thought I’d pass it on to someone who might want to do it and do it justice (only if you want absolutely no pressure) 🫶🫶
Like a child of Ares who when they get really angry (the whole genetic anger issues shit he just randomly gave to his kids?? What’s up with that anyway) they get really angry and they just kinda gravitate towards Jason, they just know where he is, it’s like a sixth sense, a spider sense, a sparky sense if you will (do not encourage me) but he just knows how to calm them down? Just holds their hand or something like that and grounds them?
I dunno how to explain but that’s all! Hope you have/had a great day (I don’t even know roughly what time zone you’re in 😭) and please don’t feel rushed or pressured to do this 🫶
this took so long for 354 words im so sorry also i hate the ending
 we're dancing in this world alone
you had been sword fighting with some cocky kid from the hermes cabin, and he’d managed to both disarm you and steal your camp necklace within the span of five seconds. the way he’d dangled the beads from his nimble fingers above you as you got up, combined with that goddamn smirk… red-hot embarrassment had flared in your cheeks. you did not like to be humiliated. 
“give it.” you’d snapped, reaching out to grab your necklace back. but he’d only smiled wider, holding it above your reach. 
“not until you admit that just because your daddy’s big and strong doesn’t mean you’re a good fighter.” he says mockingly, and gods, you wanted to kill him. anger bubbled up in you like a pot on the stove about to boil over, and you turned and stomped off as he laughed at you. how dare he embarrass you? you wanted to strangle him.
where were you going? you didn’t know, but you were marching through the woods like you were trying to get somewhere more specific than just “away”.
 it wasn't clear to you where your destination was until your eyes followed the stark white marble columns up to the carved eagle motif of cabin one, distant thunder rumbling in the distance like you were being judged for even standing in front of it.  of course. jason. he was who you needed right now.  
the guy in question pushes the door open and sees you standing there. his brow furrowed under the frames of his glasses. “are you alright?” 
“no. just… come here.” 
he tentatively takes a couple of steps toward you, reaching out his hand like he would to a scared animal.  you grab his hand with both of yours, and you swear you can feel the anger dissipating, like clouds parting. it’s slow, but effective. after a couple of seconds where neither of you speak, he breaks the silence.
“what happened?”
you explained the whole situation, having to take pauses in between to curse out the kid under your breath while jason listens attentively. 
“i’m just glad i’m not the one you're mad at.”
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wayfayrr · 13 hours
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JRKWJFMKSKDKWDMKW HI HONEY!! Idk if the rquests are still open but if theyre not, just please ignore this one!!!
But something I would LOVE to see, is one thought that I had based on what @bokettochild said. Aryll having a crush on one of the boys!!!
At first I thought immediatly about ofc the Captain bc he is pretty and all, butbutbut reminind of me as a 10yo, I would find him pretty yes, but I would ABSOLUTELY GO FERAL over Hyrule and/or Four bc they were just my type, so I thought we could share this, me and her hihihihihi
So here's what I thought like, (Y/N) and Aryll talking about her little crush like a girls night (but the Reader dont really have to be a girl, is just for funsies!!) and Wind being all >:( maybe even a bit jealous that Aryll get to spend time alone with you hihihihihi
Just one thing!! If you end up wanting to do this idea, you can do it as a headcanons or a lil fic, whatever is better for you!!
I hope you have an amazing day darling!! You are amazing and I love everything you do hihihihihihi buh bay!!! 💚💚💚💚💚💚
I thought to do this as some little headcanons!! just to get myself back into the vibe of writing headcanons since it's been a little while <3
you're right though, she'd be the best to gossip with and have tea parties together - she's just a good little sister after all!!!
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✦ gossiping with Aryll whenever you’re in winds time? She’s living for it, be it braiding her hair or showing her things you’ve been collecting over your journey. You pick her up some shells from wild’s time? Yeah you’re her parent now, that’s just how it works. 
✦ so for her to see you as a perfect role model (much to her brother's envy) it’s only natural that she’d see your partner in a similar light, after all if she wants to be like you then whoever you go for is who she’d go for right? just a harmless puppy crush on them <3
✦ so expect plenty of moments where she's pulling you aside to ask for advice about relationships, and if you ever try to go on a date then it's not a rare thing to spot her in the distance watching the both of you.
✦ while she tries to keep it more subtle at the start out of embarrassment for crushing on the guy you're dating, asking little none specific questions. but eventually it grows to outright asking how the two of you got together and such.
✦ dating four? She asks how you handle how he’s usually at the forge and what if you like sitting there with him, 
✦ Time? She’s asking what it’s like to be dating the hero of time (she’s grown up hearing legends of him, of course she’s going to be all over the chance to learn about him)
✦ Warriors - The pretty boy, the one who looks like the prince charming in all her books. No way is she NOT going to fawn over his handsome face.
✦ then hyrule? How could anyone not be in love with the fairy boy, when he’s able to make himself sickly sweet and appealing - it’s not like there’s any other reason he was so good at getting information from people. Not that he’d want to manipulate you of course, he just can’t help his natural charm. 
✦ if you're with legend then she's a little curious how you fell with his hard outer personality. Not that she thinks like that for long with the things that you can tell her about him. 
✦ And you’re right, wind is a fair bit jealous that his older sibling is having their focus away from him so often. Don’t get me wrong he’s so glad that the two of you are getting along but it wouldn’t be hard to include him more right? He looks at you like a kicked puppy until you let him join. He WILL gossip.
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The Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth - O2 Academy Bristol (November 27, 2013) by Adam Gasson
After 11 years of not finding a single photo from this show, I found these yesterday! I can not begin to express what this means to me, I nearly cried and I couldn't sleep last night. I was still a rather new fan and this was my first time going to a show in the UK, the first show I went to see with a friend, and my first time meeting that friend, too. And these above photos are SO GOOD! Not much was preserved from this show at all, there was no recording allowed (no charcoal drawings either), and to my knowledge not even the full setlist for this specific show was preserved anywhere. So better late than never, but here's what I remember (with some help from these photos!) and the things I've puzzled back together:
If there was opening music or an opening act, i don't recall, but Russell entered the stage alone. It was dramatic and impactful, and it went quiet as he gave an intense stare into the audience and did a drawn out "ahhh" into the microphone. After a little moment of quiet, it turned out the microphone had been connected to a sequencer which now started repeating "ah ah ah ah ah ah". Suspense, excitement. Russell added: "Hold, hold, hold, hold". (...I was definitely freaking out.) While that started looping on top of the ah ah ah sequence, he made stop signs with his hand as we all listened. A few repeats passed. "I'm getting mixed signals, mixed signals - mixed, mixed, mixed signals".
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^ the only seconds of this show I recorded as I didn't yet know it wasn't allowed - security signed at me and I put the camera away. It was fine. (Here's a recording of it made during the US tour later that year - recording seemed to be less frowned upon at that point.)
I don't recall when Ron entered the stage at this show, whether it was during the song or after, but what a way to open! And what an amazing song choice!
The performance that left the biggest impression on me at this show though was Nicotina. It was a choice I didn't see coming, but also the way Russell sang it! Falsetto heaven. (Sadly not a single video is to be found of Nicotina from this tour. But for your falsetto heaven needs, I hope you can find a video of Here In Heaven that they also performed on this tour, because that will also kill you.)
As everyone here probably knows I am quite big on Bergman, which at the time was heavily promoted during the tours, and, the excerpts they played on this tour were different from what they played during Two Hands One Mouth! They played "I Am Ingmar Bergman", The Studio Commissary (my favourite song on Bergman), Limo Driver (but sang by Russell, and HOW!) and "Oh My God". (Here's a video of it from one of the American shows. It's extremely good. People who've been around for a while have seen me lose it over this video many times.)
The most unexpected song choice was probably Katherine Hepburn. Me and my friend had been joking for absolute months that we were going to see Sparks and they'd play Katherine Hepburn (as if that would ever happen, we were obsessed with that song though!). And here we were, and they were playing Katherine Hepburn right in front of our eyes. (What is reality.)
Falling In Love With Myself Again had me losing it over the organ sounds, always a fan of Ron on organ, and I LOVE that song. Russell sang a line in my direction (I died), and he managed to throw another line at me during Those Mysteries ...I died a few times that night. As you might expect. That was kind of the whole THOM/TROTHOM experience anyway. Lots of dying. But the variety of dying where you end up in heaven. (You're at a Sparks show after all.)
They wrote a song especially for this tour, which was not released but only ever played live: Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth. What a thing to experience! A very dark song, but wonderful. (REVENGE! REVENGE REVENGE!)
At the end of the show Ron took a photo of Russell with the audience. I don't really remember that happening, but the photo exists and it really was not a thing they did often back then. We had been a good audience :)
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Here's all the songs that were probably played that night in random order:
Your Call's Very Important To Us. Please Hold., B.C., Good Morning, Here In Heaven, Academy Award Performance, Those Mysteries, Falling In Love With Myself Again, Big Boy, Nicotina, Popularity, This Town Ain't Big Enough For Both Of Us, excerpts from The Seduction Of Ingmar Bergman, Tryouts For The Human Race, Katherine Hepburn, Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth. They likely also played The Number One Song in Heaven, When Do I Get To Sing 'My Way' and Suburban Homeboy. (I see mentions of How Are You Getting Home? and How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall? in setlists for this tour as well, which they very well might have played but I very sadly have zero memory of ever hearing those songs live.)
This tour had a real air of mystery, possibly even more so than Two Hands One Mouth, as the lack of existing footage definitely adds to it. But luckily some of it *is* out there, and I am so grateful for these photos :) On top of the songs I especially mentioned above, I would also advise people to look for recordings of Tryouts For The Human Race and Popularity from this tour, because the arrangements are probably not going to be the way you expect them to be. And as you might expect: B.C. is stunning live. (I could start a whole rant about Good Morning and Suburban Homeboy live but I think I sufficiently screamed about both in my personal notes on THOM the year prior.) Final note: I know Russell had some sort of dance move for Big Boy because me and another friend couldn't stop talking about it for months. I don't remember what he did, but both THOM and TROTHOM were wonderful for Russell dances <3
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dinogoofymutated · 14 hours
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So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽
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SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘
Read pt. 2 Here :)
-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.
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    Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable. 
    He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.
    Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences. 
    A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you’ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.
    “Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.
    “What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty. 
    You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.
    You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.
    His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right. 
    You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.
    The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.
   “I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.
    “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.
   You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. 
    Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached. 
   But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gently touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway. 
    It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often. 
    Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.
    Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.
    But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.
    “Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment. 
    “... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back. 
    You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.
  The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.
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steddyhands has me so ruined for any individual izzy ship bc every time i try reading long stizzy fic where ed disappears i inevitably go 'but where's ed? :('
and whenever i read long edizzy fic where stede never pops up i'm inevitably going 'but where stede?? :('
and even when i read ouizzy or sprizzy or fang/ivan/izzy fics etc where izzy is happy while stede and ed are doing their own thing, i'm always a little sad in the back of my mind like 'ed and stede... they don't know?? they don't know the love of izzy?? no kissing first mate??? :((('
(don't get me started on how difficult straight up stede/ed fics are to dig through sometimes, i love the ship to death truly i do, she's the main girlie, but forget crying over where izzy is in their dynamic, i gotta go Entire Work and CTRL+F search izzy's name throughout the fic just to make sure his character isn't getting massacred disney villain style before i get invested in a 50k+ fic at 2am)
my ideal world is one where stede/ed/izzy have sorted their shit out, izzy and frenchie are music boyfriends, izzy shacks up with lucius and pete sometimes for some kissing bitching and gossiping sessions, and izzy and fang have cuddle sessions on the regular
all this ofc alongside archie/jim/olu/zheng's whole thing, whatever frenchie and wee john have going on, lucius' thing with fang, and jackie's continuing recruitment of new husbands to join the swede
in my heart polycrew is real and thriving, we could have had it all dammit
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Miranda Beach (Gideon's perspective)
"Alone in the balcony My two left feet on the mezzanine A tear in my chest when I least expect it Ignored so naturally Yet so unaware accidentally Right? That's alright, yeah
Oh, you're wasting all of my evening With eyes just like a television Oh, baby you make it look easy What's going on in her head?
Oh, no She's got me feeling undone And she knows it, yeah"
Hallelujah (Gideon's)
"There was a time you let me know What's really going on below But now you never show it to me, do you? And I remember when I moved in you And the holy dove was moving too And every breath we drew was Hallelujah"
Origin of Love (Gideon's)
"The last time I saw you we had just split in two You were looking at me, I was looking at you You had a way so familiar I could not recognize 'Cause you had blood on your face And I had blood in my eyes But I could swear by your expression That the pain down in your soul was the same As the one down in mine That's the pain That cuts a straight line down through the heart We call it love We wrapped our arms around each other Tried to shove ourselves back together We were making love, making love"
Shrike (Both tbh)
"I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By you're grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me, love When I'm reborn As a shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn"
Nailed (Harrow's)
"He died for me He died for no one else He died for no one And he'd see and complain Oh the sweet and the sigh, to pain
And your heart is left out naked and exposed I wish that you had left more to the eye And I can't find the words to say I love you And why and why and why and why and why"
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ohnoitsnoma · 1 month
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this is a fucking travesty and we as a community should be more outraged.
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raccoonrobot · 9 months
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buwheal · 2 months
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Idk if ill be able to do asks this week,, im really busy :bwomp: but next week ill probably be on it since i have break. :-)
also forgot to add but i wont really be active because ive got a shitload of work for no reason,, and you know what? I love to make bad decisions so ill be doing those for way longer than i need to. /nsrs
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knifearo · 5 months
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i say it all the time but being aromantic fucking rocks actually. loneliness is one thing but being aro + romance averse had me confront the amatonormative expectation of romantic partnering and you know what i'm NOT worried about now? having a partner. sharing a bed with someone. kissing someone. being held by someone. cause all those physical + emotional needs can be fulfilled by all the people i hold dear in my life and it is no loss of mine to not have a partner. and it's so radical and empowering to say that i don't care and i don't fucking want one! i like being by myself! I HOPE I DIE ALONE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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dumb-doll-lips · 5 months
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what would happen if you told her you were saving money for a nice trip and could she contribute money towards that?
(she doesn’t have to know it is to go visit your Daddy)
Super appreciate you trying to help✨.
I don’t think that would go well. There’d be immediate questions of where I want to go, and no one would believe I’d want to go on trip by myself, and I don’t have anybody I can use as like a mom friendly cover story. But like I kinda don’t thing it’d get that far bc she’d be quick to be inviting herself. She brings up travel and going on trips a lot. She’s already heard a lot of me saying I haven’t been interested in traveling for a while (which is a little true but mostly I don’t want to go on more trips w her, it never goes well). It has felt to me that if share I want to go somewhere she’d want to plan the trip to come, and bring the whole family if she could. There’d just be a lot of questions and even if I could convince her I just want to do it alone, I feel like that would either get her like pre-worrying I’m going to die so then like all the questions (and prolly her sounding like she’d cry if I went on a trip and didn’t like immediately reply to her) or her making me feel like a shit person for not wanting to go w her (def feel like I’d get put on the spot to have to explain why I’d want to go alone).
I think my leading idea is to ask for some expensive curling iron (or set but I’ll need to specifically pick it out or she’d think anything id consider to be an improvement on what I have to be too pricey for what it is). If it’s an expensive she’ll hit the gift cap amount she has in her mind sooner and I won’t be asked to come up with as much.
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anglerflsh · 1 year
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in a german thread i use thats there to give advice to visitors who have trouble w cultural differences, they specifically differentiate between 'are you german friends (established relationship) or are you american friends (talked for an hour at a bus stop)'
my german/austrian roots are showing I have spent from three months to two years (technically a decade. lol) despising my now-closest friends before even calling them such
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sotogalmo · 26 days
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11:33
Woke up a few minutes ago. Was a bit confused on why my Google was on Sonic The Fighters wiki. But then like. Remembered about my sonic.exe OC: Tachyglossidae.(exe).
And all.
#time diary(?)#audrey/kellie's time diary#letting the brain talk#Tachyglossidae.(exe)#i just. rlly want to being something new to the table of EXEs. yk? and well since by. design wise Tachyglossidae is very very different from#most EXEs.. and by i said “disguise”s like. 3-4 times? when having like. just simple drawings of her-#but the most different it can be is just by the fact that im using Sonic The Fighters game as a base for her whole deal#and stuff. but i really like on how Lord X Guardians are yk? gaurdians of specific-ish things. Ken'o being Disgust ; Kofuku's Joy#and tbh my favorite one: Yokubo is desire. also Zetsubo just being his name: Despair. is just. so cool#like. Lord X is not alone. there are others with him. and rhey are all like. guardians of action(Kito: prayer) and feelings(Yokubo/Gekido/#Zetsubo/Kofuku/Ken'o/Kyofu). and i just. OUGG. thats just so good. having a Lord and then. guardians? thats so good#and well. it kinda just made me think of how im making Tachyglossidae.(exe). yk? I have too many versions of her#that at this point they could also be like the guardians! — but ofc they are just going to be different levels of anger#thats her main thing and kinda. basically why i made her tbh. i was having anger in my mind just so i can get that out of the way#since. she kinda is just gonna be my own manifestations of my own rage/wrath. — but then i have to like. add in#but i still dont rlly know just WHAT exactly i have to do with her to make her very. appealing to others. without saying#that shes my manifastations of.my own feelings. because tbh. i just almost always very lightly project myself onto characters#and just. yeah. but like. i dunno whats NEW and INTERESTING that i can do with her without making her. just a rage filled#being for a reason. we already have that. in like. so many EXE OCs... and mine is just gonna be another one..but OUGH
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