1 - 20 of 23 Works by tenorgore
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There's someone sitting on the shore, blurry at first, and then coming into horrible clarity as Scylla's eyes get used to working on dry land again.
She knows who it is, even if she's never seen her before.
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When it happens, it's summer. It's a sweltering fucking summer, so rich and humid that you could reach out and touch the air. Sweat and skin sticking together when you moved a little too fast, salt pooling at the back of your tongue and lips going dry even though you've had about seventy gallons of water to drink already and you're tired of pissing it out every five minutes; and the heat drags at your limbs until all you want to do is lay down on the concrete, fall asleep and never wake up. It's summer when Bill tells Will that he's leaving.
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"Someone has to take care of you," Bill says, clear as a bell. "If you don't have anyone to call, I will."
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It's like a scene in this horror movie that came out when I was young, Colin'd told him once, when they were still figuring things out. It was about this couple who were so codependent that they literally started melding into one person. Body and all.
Well, was all Bill'd said in response, because what the hell do you say? It's not...exactly like that.
It's exactly like that. Or, the one in which Colin is a figment of Bill's mind, and Bill's just trying to buy a car.
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...but you can't make it drink.
Eight years after the fusion cell dissolves, Colin goes to Bill's retirement party.
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"We're shopping for a spot for our wedding venue," Colin stated, impassive, "And you're my fiancé who just so heard about the place and forced me to come with."
That got Bill's attention. He squinted at Colin, unreadable emotion on his face, and said—very slowly and patiently—"You want me to be fake-engaged to you?"
Or, Colin cons Bill into pretending to be engaged for a case. This has consequences, obviously.
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"What about Bill?" Colin echoes, a little blankly.
"You know," she says, vaguely. Oh, god, this is already shaping up to be the second worst conversation she's ever had to have in the office and she's had plenty of bad ones. Are you fucking our FBI liaison, Colin Glass, she tries to convey with her mind. Again, Colin's not listening. He's too busy twirling a pen between his fingers slowly and looking at her like she's kind of gone and lost it.
Gina resents the implication. If anything, she should be asking him that.
Gina stumbles across something she wishes she hadn't seen. And again. And again. And again.
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"Fuck off," Bill bites out. "You need me to beg, you sadist?"
He regrets it almost as soon as it falls out of his mouth, meant to be barbed and yet toothless in its delivery. Colin grins. His teeth are so, so white in the dark. The possibilities—endless, depraved visions—flash before Bill's eyes, before he beats it back with the metaphorical stick. "Do you want to?"
Closed mouths don't get fed.
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Katie's engagement ends one night in December. It takes her six months to realize.
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"He's—Ma, it's not like that."
"No?"
"We have a professional working relationship," Bill whisper-yelled, as if the man in question was just around the corner.
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This is psychological warfare, decides Colin.
Bill keeps bringing Colin coffee. This is unprecedented, mostly because Colin's still unsure if the man's trying to poison him or not.
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"I was sent," says Goodman. "Because I needed to see if you really were compromised."
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met someone that makes me feel seasick by colinglass (tenorgore)
Fandoms: High Potential (TV)
13 Apr 2026
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Ludo put Chloe down. "Why are you hooking up with the creepy captain," he said, flatly.
Morgan Gillory does not get embarrassed. She put her hands on her hips and looked at the ceiling. Anywhere that wasn't her ex's judgemental eyes. "He's… very understanding," she said.
Morgan's got a problem. She tries to fix it. Sort of.
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Joker has a habit of fixing his gloves. Just tugging, stretching at the fabric, playing with the cuffs. He doesn't crack his knuckles like Sakamoto does: he's worse, he pulls at his own fingers and stretches the joints until he hears a satisfying pop. He fidgets with his gloves when he's thinking. And Joker's always thinking about something or another. It's why Goro hated him the most out of these foolish Thieves: he's thoughtful, perfect, meticulous.
Goro's—fixated. Distracted. Attention captured as easily as a bird within a wolf's jaws. And Joker hasn't noticed yet, but he will soon if he can't fucking stop looking.
Joker's got Goro wrapped around his little finger. Literally.
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Shiho goes home.
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"Maybe I want to get hitched young," Akira says, instead of saying I'm in love with you. "If I was to get married, you'd be up there on the list."
Goro squints at him like he can't decide if Akira's joking or not. Then again, it's Goro. He probably does have Akira figured out, even if he doesn't want to believe it yet. "I tried to murder you. Twice. Did you get hit on the head?"
Akira and Goro work some things out.
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What if Joker didn't let Goro fall to his shadow?
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It's like the start to a bad porno.
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Mitsuru, and growing older.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,132
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 13
- Hits:
- 140
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Sometimes he wants to give Akihiko things–beyond cooking him dinner–fun little trinkets he picks up at work and wonders if he can take them home. A hoodie he used to own and wonders if he can sneak into Akihiko’s laundry so Akihiko would think it was his own, and wear it. Things like that. Gifts. Sometimes he wants to–to press their necks together in some kind of fucked up scent-bonding thing, that would have absolutely made sense if Akihiko was an omega, or a beta, or something. But he’s not.
It takes Shinjiro far too long to figure out what everyone else has seemingly known all along: that Akihiko is in love with him. Pity.