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stupid sauce, stupid us by greenevening
Fandoms: The Amazing Digital Circus (Web Series)
22 Feb 2025
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Poisoning Jax's mind. That's what it would be doing, if only for a couple of hours. And the worst part is she wants to. She knows he has secrets, so so many secrets, that could also be hers. She could make him weak with this, vulnerable, honest, soft, too slow to use his words as a weapon, and isn't that all she's ever wanted from him?
Jax's smirk twitches with amusement. He already knows that her conscience will keep her from sinking to his level. Nobody as guarded as he is would be here if he thought for an instant she might turn on him.
aka: Jax swipes some of that stupid sauce for Ragatha while she's in a crisis and things start to spiral out of control.
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Kinger learns about 9/11 by greenevening
Fandoms: The Amazing Digital Circus (Web Series)
29 Jan 2025
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“Kinger, the twin towers went, like— uhm…” Pomni cups her two fists together and then blows them apart. “PWoshshkshkshhhhh Ahhh!”
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Freminet holds his vision close to his chest, shoulders slumped, eyes cast downward. “You have a daughter.” How could a man like this care for a child? “I wasn’t aware.”
The Doctor turns his back to him and strides over to his desk, riffling through papers. “For a long time, I tried to ignore it. But she must be dying now, and this— this disturbance is getting in the way of my work.” He shakes his head.
“Touching.”
“Don’t get used to it. I don’t care much for children.”
Freminet is sent to find Il Dottore's runaway daughter, distorted as that word may be. He usually completes missions with mechanical precision, so what could go wrong now? Everything, apparently.
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The romaritime flowers droop in their heaviness, petals turning from mostly blue to purple.
It’s occurred to Collei before that the blossoms look more like fruit or buds but she’d passed it off as their natural shape. Now though, she wonders if they’re about to bloom. “Hey, come on!” She catches Freminet's blonde hair appearing in the periphery and turns to face him.
His face is blank and questioning, then confused, then his eyes widen with what might be horror.
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Collei closes her mouth tight. Her heart feels full of sick curiosity. She wants to argue with the aforementioned Fatui sympathizers, to study them, to shrink down to the size of a pollan grain and spread her intellectual roots in their brains. “I want to go.”
“No.” Tighnari says again.
“What, you don’t think I’m competent enough?” She asks. “I’m good. I’m normal. I want to dance.”
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would you trust her with your homicide case? by greenevening for JadeStars
Fandoms: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
13 Apr 2024
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Freminet loses Pers.
The twins stage an investigation and it is... very chaotic.
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Child of The Stars (But Not of The Gods) by greenevening
Fandoms: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
25 Nov 2023
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“Hey, Igelschnäuzchen.” Diluc grabs his brother’s face and scowls at him in the sweetest way he can. Softness does not come naturally to him, but he won’t stop trying. “Look at me. What’s wrong?”
His pupil looks like a cross when it’s constricted in fear. “The skinless mage.” He mutters.
“Sorry? Mage, like… like abyss mage? What do you mean?”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Diluc considers himself smart, rational even. But five times in his life Diluc's rational mind is usurped by fear, all five of them are thanks to his brother, or rather, his brother's past.
Each piece of the puzzle is more disturbing than the last. Only when he sees the whole picture will he finally understand.
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"I can't even believe how dramatic you are." Heidi scoffs, pushing her away. "It's remarkable. One wrong move could mean the difference between you making out with me and killing me on the spot."
She snorts. Her wild, bleach-blond afro is well–kept and conditioned in lively golden ringlets, most are tied back, but the strays frame her face, swaying with every movement. "Well, which would you prefer?"
Heidi doesn't answer that, although she'd prefer making out with Bebe than doing a lot of things. She's already suffering through the daunting last day of summer before ninth–grade's hormone–hell, she does not need to worry about being gay either. "I'd rather you help me with my clothing than do either. Hopefully, that's not too hard for you."
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A boy, one he's never seen before, approaches his hound. He pets him, which earns a tail wag, and adjusts the pink collar of a scarf around his neck. He's unusual looking, lanky but well–nourished, with sharp features and bright hair so curly it almost covers his... ears.
An elf.
Stan stiffens, breath catching in his throat.
Elves are not to be messed with. According to the rumors, they’re all pitiless and feral, slipping in and around the cover of the forest like animals. And worst of all, every last one of them harbors natural magic, the prospect of which is horrifying.
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“Kyle, I swear I'm not...” Stan fumbles with the next few words, something within him is hesitant to associate gayness with himself, even as a dichotomy.
“Stan it’s fine.” He says. “Even if the note was a little stupid I thought it was weirdly sweet and, I dunno, I guess—”
“I didn’t write it.”
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Stan's perfectly content with his life working at Teagridy Farms, a place that buys, prepares, and auctions off unmated omegas.
It's too bad his life is constantly trying to throw him into stereotypical movie plotlines.
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They say high school's the age of discovery. For example, Stan Marsh discovers he like boys... And also the winged Jewish alien trapped on Earth through the cruel mechanics of his fourth-grade derby car.
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“Hah, okay. Think like this.” Stan gestures vaguely. “Teenage years are like a tutorial… but for real life, ‘n time is running out for you. So here’s me, but not me, hot–girl me, asking you on a practice date.”
He watches him for a second, processing the words, then sinks back into bed with a heavy sigh. “It’s too fucking early for this.”
Stan kisses him again, gently, tiredly, and there’s no resistance. He snuggles closer. “C'mon. It’ll be soo fun.”
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“Kyle?” Stan chuckles at the thought of him asleep with the homework strewn across his bed. Kyle's a cute napper, he curls in on himself like some little animal, head on his forearms, knees bent. "I bet you look adorable right now."
As soon as the words leave his mouth, a strange emotion overtakes him. It might be regret, or relief, or grim satisfaction, but in one way or another, having said that guilty little thought that he'd considered a million times before brings a blush to his cheeks and lifts a weight off his shoulders.
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“I think you know everything, Kyle.”
This time he gets more than a smirk. Kyle laughs, shaking his head, and scrunching up the freckled arch of his nose. “Dude, you’re so fucked.”
“M’ not,” Stan says, but even he can hear the tired hum in his voice. “You’re just super, duper, extra smart.”
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“It only happened once.”
“Twice.” He eases him into bed. “It happened twice, Stan.”
The wind rattles against the window, filling the void of his friend’s silence with cold, cold, cold.
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When all the soap is rinsed away Stan walks back to the other end of the bathroom and gets a towel. “All clean.”
Kyle opens his eyes, feeling warm and tired and content. “Thanks.” He says, and then before really turning his critical thinking skills back on, adds. “I love you, dude.”
Fuck.
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Kyle's not gay. No, it's just... sexual tension. Wendy said all he has to do to release it is kiss Stan.
What could possibly go wrong?
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“Stan, I’m here okay. I’m here. Are you— do I need to call an ambulance or something?” He shakes his friend. “Fuck, you look dead, I thought you were dead.”
“Mnm” Stan groans and opens his eyes a crack, shading them with his hand from the bathroom lights. “No, not dead.” He tries to sit up before dropping his head to the toilet and coughing up whatever unlucky substance is still left in his stomach. “Hangover.” His movements are odd, sluggish, and offset by a heavy tremor.
Kyle grabs him by the shoulders and looks him in the eye, silently begging for some type of explanation.
Stan half slides into his lap and slumps over to rest his forehead against the nape of his neck.
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Suddenly, like an invisible rope keeping Kyle up snaps in two, he dips down as far as he can manage, huffing a little gasp of discomfort as Stan’s fingers instinctively dig into his sweater.
Their faces are close together. Okay, very close.
Stan becomes so uncomfortably hot, the inches separating their lips from making contact with each other could probably boil water. He naively hopes he isn’t flushing. “What, are you about to kiss me, dude?” He teases.