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heliosunny · 5 days ago

Note

Could we get a Boothill Lucky Egg?

PWEASE?!

-*^* anon

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Boothill x Reader

The first thing you noticed was the heat.

Not the gentle warmth of sunlight or the lingering comfort of blankets, this was heavier, more oppressive, like the thick air before a storm. Then came the scent of gunpowder, worn leather, and metal tinged with something sharp.

Your fingers twitched, brushing against something solid. Not the sheets. Not the mattress.

Your eyes snapped open.

And there he was.

A tall figure, stretched out beside you like he’d been there all along. His hat with star-shaped emblems glinting faintly under the light was tilted just enough to cast a shadow over his face, but not enough to hide the long, white hair streaked with black that spilled over his shoulder.

A red scarf rested loose around his neck, shifting slightly as he breathed, and his jacket was unzipped just enough to reveal the mechanical structure of his torso.

His eyes- grey, rimmed in black like the barrel of a gun, at the center, white reticles marked each pupil, staring back at you like a scope locked on a target.

“Mornin’” he drawled, like this wasn’t the first time he’d woken up next to you.

“What the hell—?!” You scrambled back, pressing yourself against the edge of the bed. “Who...how did you—?!”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, finally sitting up. His cropped jacket shifted with the motion, exposing more of his mechanical frame, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to explain himself.

Instead, he tipped his hat up slightly, revealing the full, lazy amusement in his gunmetal eyes.

“Hatched” he said.

You froze. “What?”

Boothill rolled a shoulder, fingers brushing over the bullets strapped to his belt. “Same way a chick busts outta an egg—‘cept in this case, reckon it was a lucky draw.”

Your gaze flicked to his gun, to the bullet earring on his ear.

This man was dressed like he’d just walked off the battlefield.

And yet, he looked entirely at ease.

Your hands curled into fists. “That doesn’t explain who you are.”

Boothill exhaled slowly, lifting a hand to his belt—not to draw his gun, just to rest his fingers against it, casual-like.

“Name’s Boothill” he murmured. “And as far as I can tell…”

He leaned in slightly, sharp teeth flashing in a slow, deliberate grin.

“You’re my partner.”

You pushed off the bed, ignoring the way Boothill’s gaze followed your every movement. “Come with me.”

His expression didn’t change, but you caught the slight shift in his posture—relaxed, easy, but never off-guard. Like a man who never let his hand stray too far from his gun.

The place where the Lucky Egg Dispenser had once stood was empty.

No trace of its oversized, ridiculous capsule design. No faint hum of energy. No nothing.

Just bare ground where it had been.

“That’s—” You swallowed. “That’s not possible.”

You had used it. You were sure of it. The egg had been there.

Your head snapped toward Boothill.

He was standing just behind you, hat tilted downward, one hand resting lazily against his belt.

“You know something” you accused.

Boothill let out a quiet chuckle. “Darlin’, I am somethin’.”

You clenched your jaw. “That doesn’t answer anything.”

He hummed, stepping past you, slow and deliberate, boots kicking up dust where the machine had once been. He knelt down, gloved fingers grazing the dirt—then lifted them, rubbing them together like he could feel something you couldn’t.

“Well, ain’t that somethin’” he murmured.

Your patience was wearing thin. “What?”

Boothill stood, dusting off his hands. “No trace. Like it never existed.”

“That’s my point,” you snapped. “I saw it. It was here. It gave me—”

Your throat closed around the words.

It gave me you.

Boothill only smirked, like he’d been waiting for you to connect the dots. “Reckon that means one thing.”

“Which is?”

He tapped two fingers against his temple. “You ain’t dreamin’.” Then, after a beat, “And you ain’t losin’ your mind neither, far as I can tell.”

Morning, Post-Hatching

Waking up with a cowboy that "hatched" from an egg wasn’t exactly how you imagined your week going.

Boothill had spent the rest of the morning settling in like he belonged. He had a way of leaning just close enough to make you aware of his presence without pushing, of watching your reactions like he was taking stock of every little twitch and hesitation.

“So,” you muttered, arms crossed as you leaned against the counter, watching him pick apart a gadget he had found on your desk. “What exactly are you planning to do now that you’re here?”

Boothill gave you a slow glance from under his hat, fingers twirling a tiny metal gear between them. The barest flick of his wrist sent it spinning through the air—he caught it without looking.

“That a real question, or you just makin’ conversation?”

“It’s real.”

“Then I reckon the answer’s simple.” He tilted his head “Gonna be wherever you are, sweetheart.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Boothill leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his palm. His reticle-marked eyes glinted under the light.

“Ain’t it?”

Fine. If he wasn’t going anywhere, he might as well pull his weight.

The world you lived in revolved around dungeon raids. Every fight, every challenge, every victory earned you points—currency to trade for goods, resources, even shelter.

If Boothill was going to stick around, he needed to prove he could handle himself. Which was why you brought him to a Trial Dungeon.

It was a beginner’s test, nothing too difficult. Just enough to see if Boothill could hold his own.

And, well—

He didn’t just pass.

He obliterated it.

The instant the battle began, Boothill moved like a gunshot. One second he was at your side, the next he was gone, boots skidding across the battlefield, bullets flying with terrifying precision.

You barely had time to register what was happening.

His gun spun effortlessly in his grip, taking down targets before they could even charge. He weaved between attacks, moving in impossible patterns.

And when one particularly large beast lunged at him, he stepped forward. The monster’s claws slashed through the air, and Boothill was already inside its reach. The barrel of his gun pressed against its jaw, his reticle-marked gaze never wavering.

BANG.

The creature collapsed instantly.

He casually blew the smoke from his gun, turning back to you like he hadn’t just humiliated the entire dungeon.

“Well?” He tipped his hat. “How’s that for a trial?”

“…Yeah. Okay. You’re good.”

Boothill chuckled, holstering his gun with an easy twirl. “Good?” He shook his head, stepping closer. “Darlin’, I ain’t just good. I’m the best *** partner you could ask for.”

“What? I think there are words I couldn't hear.”

He looked like he was mad, but then he got back to normal. Then, his fingers tapped lightly against your chin—brief, teasing, before he pulled away.

Boothill had proved himself to you. And you're pleased with the result.

The night started simple. A casual gathering, a few drinks with friends, nothing Boothill should’ve had a problem with.

Except Boothill was Boothill.

The moment he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and hat tipped just low enough to shadow his eyes, you knew he wasn’t about to let you drink much.

“Easy there, sugar,” he murmured, tapping the rim of your glass before you could down it. “Ain’t no sense in drownin’ yourself when you can just sip.”

You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re acting like I don’t do this all the time.”

“Exactly,” Boothill said, slow and smooth. He smirked. “And I got the feelin’ you don’t do it well.”

Your friends laughed, and you huffed, but you let him have this win—at least for now.

What he didn’t notice was you sneaking extra drinks while he was distracted.

Or maybe he did notice. Maybe the twitch of his eye meant something when he saw you giggling at your own failed attempt to pour another shot. But he let it slide.

Somewhere between one too many drinks and the warm glow of festival lights, you wandered toward a small shooting game stall.

The rules were simple: hit enough targets, win enough points, trade for a prize.

A giant, soft teddy bear sat on display.

You wanted it.

Boothill, hands in his pockets, watched with vague amusement as you eagerly slapped down the payment and grabbed the fake gun.

Aiming felt harder than it should’ve.

You fired.

And missed.

Then missed again.

Then you hit one, but it didn’t count.

The stall owner, an older man with a thick mustache, laughed a little too smugly. “Tough luck, kid. Wanna go again?”

Your eyes narrowed. The gun’s sights were misaligned. The targets? Weighted.

This game was rigged.

You turned to Boothill, who had already figured it out.

He sighed. “Step aside, sweetheart.”

Boothill dropped a few coins onto the counter and took the gun with an easy, unbothered grip.

The stall owner paled.

Boothill didn’t even need to aim.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Every single target dropped instantly.

The owner hesitated before forcing a nervous grin. “Well, uh—looks like you won! Hah! Pick your prize!”

You pointed at the giant teddy bear with absolutely no shame.

Boothill exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but took the bear and turned to you. “Happy now?”

You beamed. Then, without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

It was quick, clumsy—drunken, but warm.

Boothill froze.

You didn’t notice. You were already hugging the teddy bear like it was the best thing in the world.

But Boothill stood still for just a second too long. His eyes flickered—something brief. Then, with a slow exhale, he grabbed your wrist.

“A’right, that’s enough trouble for one night” he murmured.

You barely had time to protest before Boothill hauled you up, teddy bear and all, and started dragging you home.

You remembered everything.

The warmth of the festival lights, the distant hum of laughter and chatter, the way the world had spun just a little too much after sneaking those extra drinks. You remembered the shooting game—the way the owner had rigged it, how Boothill had stepped up and effortlessly nailed every shot.

And, most of all, you remembered what you’d done after.

The press of your lips against his cheek.

A reward, you had called it, drunk and pleased with yourself. Boothill had gone still for just a moment, his usual drawl softening, just barely, before he muttered something under his breath and hoisted you up to drag you home.

Now, standing at the entrance of your next dungeon run, you risked a glance at him. He was leaning lazily against the checkpoint wall, arms crossed, hat tilted.

You weren’t sure if he knew that you remembered.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out.

But before you could think too much about it, someone else called out.

“Hey—hey, I remember you!”

You turned to see a man approaching, vaguely familiar from that night. He had the easy confidence of someone who thought they had a chance, smiling as he stopped just short of your space. “Didn’t get to talk to you much last time. I was about to ask you out, but you were too drunk.”

Before you could react, Boothill shifted beside you.

It wasn’t obvious at first—just a slow push off the wall, a lazy step forward. Then came the small things. The way his hand hovered just a little too close to the gun at his hip. The way his sharp grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That so?” Boothill’s voice was light, almost amused. “Guess it’s a good thing they had company, then.”

The man chuckled, missing the warning entirely. “Yeah, well, no harm done. You don’t seem too hungover today, so what do you say—”

“Y’know,” Boothill cut in smoothly, tapping the side of his gun holster, “interestin’ thing about folks who don’t know when to quit. They tend to learn the hard way.”

The man’s laughter faded, brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

Boothill smiled, all sharp teeth and something just a little too cold. “Nothin’. Just chattin’.”

“Uh…right. Maybe another time.”

You watched him walk away, only realizing in hindsight that the whole exchange had felt off.

“Guess we oughta get goin’, huh?” He tipped his hat up slightly. “Ain’t like the dungeon’s gonna clear itself.”

You hesitated, the weight of that moment still lingering, but eventually nodded. “…Yeah. Let’s go.”

By the time you got home, the tension from earlier had faded—mostly.

You stood in the kitchen, focused on prepping dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables filling the quiet air. The dungeon run had gone well, and despite Boothill’s usual antics, nothing had seemed off, at least, not until that moment at the entrance.

You were lost in thought when you felt it—an arm draping over your shoulder.

“You got a real sneaky way of sayin’ thanks, sugar.”

Your knife almost slipped.

Boothill’s voice was low, just by your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His arms looped around your waist, casual but firm, and when you turned your head slightly, you caught the edges of his sharp grin.

“What—?”

“That little stunt ya pulled at the festival.” His hold tightened just enough to make you pause. “Didn’t think I’d let that slide, did ya?”

“I—”

“You remember, don’tcha?” His voice lilted, slow, knowing.

Your face felt warm, the memory flashing back in perfect clarity—your drunken self, all giddy and bold, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Boothill chuckled, the sound low and pleased. “Ain’t often ya get the drop on me. Had to think on how to pay ya back proper.”

Your hands were still hovering over the cutting board, caught between finishing dinner and escaping this whole conversation. “…So this is revenge?”

“Mm.” His arms tightened slightly, his chin resting against your shoulder. “Somethin’ like that.”

There was a pause, a beat too long, before he added, “Didn’t hate it, y’know.”

Boothill pulled back before you could react, his usual teasing smirk settling back into place. “Food’s gonna burn if ya keep starin’ off like that.”

You turned back to the stove quickly, ears burning. “Shut up.”

Boothill just laughed, stepping back��but not before ruffling your hair, a satisfied glint in his eyes.

You had a feeling this wasn’t the last time he’d bring it up.

Boothill had nailed the last dungeon so cleanly that you barely had to lift a finger. It was impressive—the way he moved, the way he handled things like he was born for it.

It also meant that now, he was getting ideas.

"Don't see much point in draggin' you along, sugar" Boothill said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "I got this handled."

You raised a brow. "You're trying to solo now?"

"Wouldn't call it tryin’ when I already did." He tipped his hat back slightly, grey eyes gleaming. "No need to split the points if I go alone. Might as well make things easy."

You clicked your tongue but didn’t argue. He had a point.

So, with Boothill off doing his thing, you had the rest of the day to yourself.

Later that evening, you were at the marketplace, chatting with some friends while picking up a few supplies.

The conversation was light, easy, and one of them had just started to offer you a hand carrying your bags when a familiar presence made itself known.

"Now, that don’t seem necessary."

The drawl slid into the conversation like a well-placed bullet.

One of them hesitated. "Oh, we were just—"

"Helpin’?" Boothill finished, stepping in with an easy, lopsided smile. "Mighty kind of ya, but I got it covered."

Your friend glanced between you two, clearly debating whether to push back. You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in Boothill’s stance, or the way his fingers idly tapped against the belt of bullets at his hip, but they seemed to think better of it.

"Right. Well, see you around then."

With that, your friends made a polite but quick exit.

You turned to Boothill with an exasperated sigh. "Really?"

He just grinned, stepping closer to take your bags from your hands. "What? Ain't nothin' wrong with givin’ my partner a hand, now is there?"

The words rolled off his tongue like a casual remark, but you caught the weight behind them.

You shook your head, deciding to let it slide for now. "C’mon, let's get home."

Boothill fell into step beside you, his smirk lingering like the promise of trouble yet to come.

You didn’t expect to hear Boothill’s name today—not like this.

When your friend mentioned a fight breaking out near the market, your stomach dropped. They didn’t know the details, just that someone wasn't holding back. And the moment they said white hair, a red scarf, and a revolver that never missed… you knew.

You ran. And now, standing at the edge of an alley, you wish you hadn’t come.

Bodies lay slumped against the walls, some groaning, others too dazed to move. The scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mixing with the sharp tang of dust and sweat. At the center of it all stands Boothill, unbothered, unhurried. His gun still smokes, his gloved fingers spinning it lazily before holstering it at his hip.

He looks up at you.

“Well now, look who finally showed up.”

His voice is easy, like this is normal, like he wasn’t just standing over men who can’t even pick themselves up.

“Boothill… what the hell did you do?”

His grin stretches. "Handled it."

You take a step forward, fists clenching. “That doesn’t explain anything. Why are they—”

He tilts his head. "Y’know, sugar, you oughta be thankin’ me."

"These fine gentlemen?" Boothill gestures toward the ones still groaning on the ground. "Thought they could get a little too cozy with you. Offer a hand, offer a ride—hell, offer more than that."

His smirk remains, but there’s something colder beneath it.

"Problem is, they were lyin’ to get advantages from you."

Your brows furrow. "Lying? What do you mean?"

Boothill scoffs, tipping his hat back slightly as he watches your face. "Oh, sugar, you really don’t see it, do ya?"

He steps closer, voice dropping just enough that it feels like a secret only meant for you.

"They weren’t bein’ nice. They were testin’ ya." His hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Seeing how much they could push. How much they could take."

"They wanted to help me with my things—"

Boothill hums. "Did they now? Or did they wanna use that as an excuse to get you alone?" He tilts his head. "Tell me, sugar. You ever noticed how they only offer when no one else is around?"

Your mouth opens—to argue, to deny it—but then the doubt creeps in.

Had they?

Now that you think about it… one of them had asked you to "drop by his place" after work once. Another kept pushing drinks on you at the party. And another—

Boothill watches the realization flicker across your face, and his smirk deepens.

"Half the things they said were true," he admits, voice smooth. "The other half? Just twisted enough to keep you from seein' the knife behind their backs."

"How do you know all this?"

His eyes gleam under the shadow of his hat. "‘Cause I see things you don’t, sugar."

"And I ain't about to let nobody take advantage of you. Not while I'm around."

He sounds so sure. So convincing.

And you believe him.

You glance at the men still on the ground, groaning but unable to do much else. Your fists unclench, tension slowly bleeding from your shoulders.

Boothill notices. He always does.

His hand extends toward you "Let’s go home, darlin’."

This time, you don’t hesitate.

You place your hand in his.

And just before he turns away, Boothill glances back at the men with a victorious smirk.

A silent message, clear as day—I won.

Then, with your fingers still laced in his, he leads you away.

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you #heliosluckyegg

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capuccinodoll · 4 months ago

Text

The Confession

Before the sun hits (chapter five)

Summary: Joel wants to know more about your dream, and he might make it come true.

You walked down the stairs humming the last tune that had spun through your mind in the shower—China Girl by Bowie. The song’s notes lingered on your lips, a little offbeat, but it didn’t matter. The warmth of the shower still clung to your skin, and you realized just how much you’d needed that heat until it washed over you, easing the tension you hadn’t known you were holding. Even though the rumbling thunder outside made you tense up a little, the cascade of water had been a comfort, like a temporary escape.

Bundled up in your favorite lounge clothes—pajama pants, a worn-in cotton T-shirt, and an oversized sweater that practically swallowed you—you made your way downstairs. The rain was still lashing against the roof, a steady downpour that filled the house with its rhythmic patter, creating an oddly soothing backdrop. When you reached the bottom floor, you wandered toward the living room window, curious about the storm. The sight outside surprised you; the sky was a swirling, tumultuous grey, like a Renaissance painting where the artist had chosen to convey the world's sadness through heavy, brooding clouds.

"Still afraid?" Joel’s voice came from somewhere behind you, and you jumped slightly. He had a way of sneaking up on you like that.

“No,” you shot back, spinning to face him, but the lie must have been obvious. He was standing just a bit too close, his smirk playful as he stepped back, but only by a few inches, leaving barely enough space to breathe.

“You sure?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, Joel, sure,” you replied firmly, trying to hold onto your composure. But almost on cue, a loud crack of thunder split the air, and you flinched despite yourself, taking a small step back.

Joel's lips curled into a bemused smile, his eyes dancing with amusement that he was barely disguising with a frown. “Good Lord,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, get away from the window.”

You didn’t argue, following him to the couch, feeling like a child caught out. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you settled next to him, your arm brushing against his. Joel didn’t seem to mind. He sprawled out on the couch, grabbing the remote with an easy familiarity, and you took a seat beside him, closer than you probably should have been.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked, your voice bright with anticipation as you tilted your head, studying his profile.

He glanced at the TV screen, then turned toward you, and the sudden intensity of his gaze sent a jolt through you. It was like being seen, really seen, for a moment too long. He gestured toward the screen, where a reality show played, two women shouting and sobbing in a flurry of drama.

“Anything but this,” he muttered, a wrinkle of distaste crinkling his brow.

You reached over, and he let the remote pass into your hands, your fingers brushing briefly against his. You tried to ignore the way the touch made your pulse skip. As you navigated through streaming options, Joel watched you, his focus almost palpable.

When you reached your recently watched shows, Joel let out an exaggerated sigh. “Season twenty of Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Yes, why?” you replied with a smirk, arching an eyebrow.

He didn’t dignify the question with a response, instead pointing to a different movie thumbnail. “That one. Christine.”

You navigated to the film without protest, pressing play. The opening scenes filled the room with the familiar, grainy colors of ‘80s cinema. You’d always loved movies from that era—the way they captured the world with their hazy, saturated palettes, the oversized jackets, the neon lights. It all felt like a time capsule, a window into a different kind of life.

On screen, Arnie strutted around in his red jacket, exuding a cocky confidence.

“Look at that, what a beauty,” Joel mused, leaning a little closer to you. His voice had a warmth to it, a hint of something wistful. “I always wanted a Plymouth Fury, red and everything.”

“Everything? Possession included?” you quipped, looking up at him, catching his eye in the dim light. He shot you a side glance, his expression mildly irritated but also amused.

“Pay attention,” he replied, frowning.

You bit back a grin, turning your focus back to the screen. But you couldn’t help the small huff of frustration that escaped when the car’s dark influence on Arnie became more apparent.

Joel caught the sound, leaning toward you, his voice dropping into a low whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“That damn car,” you muttered, the edge in your voice belying your irritation.

“It’s just a movie,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You know that, right?”

“Oh, no shit, Joel. A movie?" You shot him a mock-serious look, and his mouth twitched, barely holding back a smile.

“Okay, smartass.”

A laugh bubbled up from your throat, surprising you both. Without thinking, you let your head rest on his shoulder, curling your legs up beneath you, and you felt him relax slightly under the weight of it. He didn’t move away; he didn’t make any snide comment. He just let you stay like that, the warmth of his body a quiet reassurance.

“Let me know if you’re hungry,” he said after a while, his voice breaking the silence.

“Why, are you going to cook for me?” you teased, your cheek pressing a little more firmly against his shoulder.

“If you behave,” he shot back, the words carrying a playful edge that sent a shiver through you. You looked up at him, letting your gaze drift to his lips for just a second too long.

“So scary,” you muttered, shifting against him. “Is Joel Miller a good cook?”

“I’ve received no complaints,” he replied, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was so close that the air seemed to thin between you, and something tightened in your chest.

“I have a discerning palate."

“I’ve seen you eat, sweetheart,” he said, a trace of a smirk playing on his lips. “I can handle you.”

The words hit differently, slipping through your defenses, and without thinking, you let a thought slip out as if it were nothing more than a whisper. “I know you can.”

Joel’s expression shifted, a shadow of something passing over his features. He took in the shift in your tone, the undercurrent of something you hadn’t meant to reveal. “Can I ask you a question?” you asked, suddenly emboldened by the intimacy of the moment.

“You know you can."

“Why did you agree to come to Canmore?”

He fell silent, staring at the screen without seeing it. His mouth tightened, as if he was weighing the words before giving them to you. For a moment, you thought maybe you’d overstepped. But then he spoke. “Have you met your dad?”

“Believe me, I did,” you answered with a dry laugh.

“He was... pretty persistent. I tried to say no, but Sarah disagreed. It was like they had a plan.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who does what he doesn’t want to,” you observed, trying to decipher him.

“Maybe. Most of the time. Not lately,” he said, his voice softer, almost introspective.

A knot formed in your chest. Did he regret being here? Was he just tolerating you? You lifted your head from his shoulder, turning to face him directly. He noticed, his brows knitting together as he took in the change in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, but your voice betrayed you. He shifted closer, studying your face, and the weight of his attention was impossible to ignore.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, Joel,” you said quietly, the words firmer than you felt. “I mean, today. Or any day.”

“I know,” he replied just as firmly. His gaze held yours, unflinching, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Just so you know,” you pressed on. “You’re not obligated to spend time with me.”

“I know,” he said again, but there was something else there, something you couldn’t quite name. “Are you trying to convince me to leave?”

“No, I’m just... letting you know.”

He exhaled slowly, a faint, wry smile pulling at his lips. “I’m not having a bad time, you know. Even if I have to put up with your sass.”

Relief washed over you, a warmth settling in your chest. You couldn’t help the small smile that slipped out. “You’re not the only one putting up with things, Joel.”

He arched a brow, leaning in even closer, his voice dropping. “Enlighten me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his words carrying a challenge that made your pulse stutter. You could feel the heat between you, an invisible line you were both daring the other to cross.

“I could list a few things,” you started, your voice playful. “Like you spying on me while I sleep.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something that sent a thrill through you, like you’d just lit a fuse. He leaned in, his thumb brushing against the side of your hip, a touch so light it felt like a promise.

Joel's face hovered close, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate cocoon in the dim light. His arm settled beside your hip, fingers brushing just enough to send a jolt through your skin. It felt almost like a question—one he wouldn’t voice, but asked with the pressure of his thumb, the careful tilt of his head. You were hyper-aware of everything in that moment: the faint scent of soap clinging to his skin, the underlying musk that was uniquely his, and the way his presence filled the small space between you, almost like a gravitational pull.

“Tell me what you dreamed,” he murmured, the request slipping from his lips in a tone that felt like an order disguised as an invitation. His voice had that low, rough edge, the kind that made you want to answer without question, to let yourself be led by it. You felt the warmth begin in your chest and travel downward, a slow unraveling that left you bare.

Look at you, so reckless, you thought, almost laughing at yourself. But even as you hesitated, you couldn’t resist the idea of letting him in on the dream. Would he react like you imagined? Push back, pull away, or lean in further? A thrill went through you at the uncertainty of it all.

“Well, it was dark,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, but there was a slight tremble you couldn’t control. “I woke up to a noise. I was in my bed, alone, until I felt something move behind me, pressing close.”

He leaned in, just enough to make you feel the shift in his breathing. “How close?” His voice carried a note of urgency, like he needed the answer more than you did.

You swallowed, feeling a flicker of boldness ignite. “Not a millimeter away,” you confessed, watching the way his expression shifted, tightening with curiosity and something else, something deeper. “And then I felt it—a hand, sliding over my waist, fingers pressing in, but gentle, almost hesitant. For a moment, I thought it was just a phantom feeling, but then it moved lower, and I turned over to see—” You faltered, catching the gleam in his eyes. He was listening, but not just with his ears. He was taking in every word, every flicker of emotion on your face, holding you captive in his gaze.

You brushed your fingers over the back of his hand, feeling his warmth seep into you. It made your pulse stutter. “I think you know what I mean, Joel,” you continued, his name slipping from your mouth like a plea. “When I finally felt it—all of it—it was like it was tearing me apart from the inside, a sensation so strong it felt like it would swallow me whole.”

His eyes, dark and intense, never wavered from yours. He swallowed hard, like he was trying to keep himself steady, but you could see the hunger there, wild and unguarded. “Say it,” he urged, his voice rougher now, and it made your skin tingle.

You feigned confusion for a second, savoring the way his impatience crept into the curve of his mouth, the tightness of his jaw. “What?” you asked innocently, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

His lips twitched into a smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes. “Don’t play innocent with me. Say it. Out loud.”

The challenge in his words, the edge of command, did something to you. A rush of need flooded your veins, making your head spin, leaving you breathless with wanting. You could have kept up the pretense a little longer, but he was so close, so maddeningly close, that it was all you could do to keep from leaning in those last few inches to taste the urgency on his lips.

“It was you, Joel,” you confessed, feeling the weight of the admission hitting you, your heart drumming wildly against your ribs. “Touching me, gripping me like I was something you couldn’t bear to let go of. Taking me, like you needed it as much as I did. Of course you you had to heard me, those noises were just for you.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, just stared at you with a raw, naked hunger that made your skin feel too tight. His breath came in rough bursts, and his chest rose and fell like he was struggling to keep control. Then, you saw his gaze drop, his eyes tracing the line of your throat, lingering on the curve of your collarbone, and finally, drifting down further.

Before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out, grazing the front of his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. His reaction was instant—a sharp intake of breath, a tightening of his hand on your hip, as if he might pull you closer or push you away, he hadn’t yet decided. But he didn’t push. He let you touch him, let you feel the evidence of how much he wanted this.

Then Joel’s fingers curled around your wrist, gently halting your touch, as if savoring the moment. His grip was firm, his hand rough against your skin, and when he spoke, there was a crack in his voice that made you pause, just for a second.

“If this happens, there's no turning back, baby,” he said, his voice low, gravelly, but with an edge of vulnerability that you hadn’t heard before. His eyes searched yours, and for a brief moment, a shadow of uncertainty crossed his face.

You swallowed, taking in the weight of what he’d just said, the gravity in his words. But really, that was all you needed. No second thoughts, no hesitations. You leaned in, closing the space between you both, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was urgent, like you’d been holding your breath for hours, and finally, you could exhale. Joel’s taste filled you—something intoxicating and warm—and you let out a low sound, a moan that vibrated through your joined lips.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he studied you with half-lidded eyes. He sank back against the couch, drawing you with him. His hands moved quickly, guiding your legs around his waist until you were straddling his lap, your thighs cradling his hips. You could feel the strength in his arms as he adjusted you, holding you close, anchoring you to him. The contact of his hard chest against your own, the way his body seemed to fit perfectly beneath yours—it set a spark in your blood, a need so intense that you barely recognized your own voice as you gasped against his lips.

“Damn, baby,” Joel breathed, his lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. He dipped his head to kiss along your jaw, his hands cupping your backside, fingers digging into the curve of you. A low, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest when he felt you grind against him, his body responding with a slow, helpless roll of his hips. He broke the kiss, just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips when he felt your eagerness. You couldn’t help but match it with a smile of your own, though yours was tinged with impatience.

You pressed your mouth to his again, this time with a frantic edge, your hands finding their way into his hair. The heat between you was searing, uncontainable. Your hips moved instinctively, seeking the pressure, the friction. When you felt the length of him pressing through his pants against your core, a desperate sound slipped from you, something raw and needy.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed, the words leaving you in a rush as your head tipped back, your lips parted. He felt so good beneath you, so solid, big, and it made your mind spin.

Joel’s gaze was fixed on you, dark and hungry, watching the way your mouth fell open, how you clung to him as if you might lose your balance. His breath hitched, and his jaw clenched as he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then, in a sudden move, he gripped your waist and lifted you off him, setting you down next to him. A whine of frustration bubbled up in your throat, but he was already on his feet, pulling you along with him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up, your legs dangling for just a moment before finding their place around his hips again. You couldn’t keep your lips off him, your mouth chasing his as he maneuvered you toward the stairs, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

Before you knew it, he turned you in his arms, your back pressing into the wooden railing. Your breath came out in a shudder as he kissed you there, fingers digging into the curve of your spine. But then he pivoted again, leading you backwards until you found yourself at the door to his room. He fumbled for the handle, and when it finally gave way, he pushed the door open and guided you inside.

You took a breath, glancing around, taking in the intimate details of his space. It mirrored yours, but different—more organized, less cluttered, though the bed was rumpled, as if he’d just been lying in it, restless.

The thought disappeared when you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you into the heat of his chest. His mouth brushed over the curve of your shoulder, trailing kisses up to the sensitive spot beneath your ear. You tilted your head, giving him more space, your breath catching when his lips grazed your skin. His hands spanned your waist, holding you steady, and you shivered against him, your whole body aching with need.

Turning, you faced him, your hands going straight to the hem of his shirt. You were impatient, trembling, and he must have seen the urgency in your eyes because he didn’t waste time—he pulled off your sweater and t-shirt in one swift movement, leaving your skin bare to the cool air.

For a heartbeat, he just looked at you, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath stutter.

"So pretty, baby."

His fingers traced along your sides, pressing you closer, his mouth finding your neck again. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious ache building low in your stomach.

You tugged at his shirt again, desperate for the feel of his skin against yours. He shrugged it off, letting it fall somewhere on the floor, forgotten. His body was warm and solid beneath your touch, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped when he pressed himself to you, the heat of him seeping into your bones.

The edge of the bed met the back of your thighs, and Joel took advantage of your stumble, guiding you down onto the mattress. He hovered over you, his breath mingling with yours, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—this delicate push and pull of control he was struggling to keep. But then, with a small, desperate sound, he surrendered, his mouth crashing into yours.

His kiss was hungry, consuming, like he’d been starving for you, and it left you dizzy. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you up against him, and you arched into his touch, a helpless little sound escaping your lips as he took control.

His lips moved lower, kissing down your neck, over the curve of your breast, until finally, his mouth closed around one of your nipples. The sensation sent a bolt of electricity through you, and you cried out, your hands twisting into his hair, pulling him closer, as if that would ease the ache growing inside you.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, voice barely above a whisper, but it felt like the only thing you could manage.

He paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his lips swollen and wet, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pulled back.

“What, baby?” he teased, the words catching in his breath, his eyes dark with want. “You have to tell me what you need.”

Your cheeks flushed under his scrutiny, but you managed to meet his gaze, biting down on your lip. “Fuck me,” you whispered, the words a raw plea, your hands trailing over his shoulders, urging him closer.

He kissed you again, slower this time, but with a lingering desperation that made your head spin, his body pressing yours into the mattress.

As Joel pulled away, a cold emptiness settled over your body, making you lean up on your elbows, your head following his movement as he stood before you. His hands moved with urgency, tugging down his gray pants. And just like that, the fabric pooled at his feet, revealing skin. You blinked, your breath hitching. Of course, Joel wasn't wearing underwear.

A sigh tumbled from your lips, heavy with desire as your eyes drank in the sight of him. He stood exposed, unabashed, and hard. His hand wrapped around his hard, thick dick almost instinctively, and you caught the smallest flinch in his expression. It was intoxicating.

“I knew it,” you breathed, tossing your head back, a smirk pulling at the corners of your mouth. Joel's eyebrow arched, and he took a step closer, a playful smile spreading across his face as if you’d just confirmed something you’d been dying to know.

You moved quickly, rising onto your knees on the mattress, aligning your face with his. Your arms found their place around his neck, tugging him down, your lips pressing against his with a desperate heat. The friction between you both was electric, his body pressed to yours, and you could feel him—solid and pulsing, rubbing against your stomach, warm and slick where he brushed.

Joel’s hands settled firmly on your hips, rough palms sliding lower until they cupped your ass, kneading the flesh with a force that pulled a moan from deep inside you. It vibrated between you, swallowed by his mouth, the sound mingling with the low groan rumbling in his chest. Your hands roamed downward, feeling every plane and muscle of his chest, before slipping further until your fingers wrapped around the base of his hardness.

“You’re so hard, Joel,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes stayed locked on his as you spoke. “You need this so badly, don’t you?”

He drew a sharp breath at your touch, his hands tightening on your hips, bruising almost. A flash of something wild crossed his expression, and he shook his head, lips quirking as he exhaled a chuckle that held no humor. “Witch,” he accused softly, the word a caress against your lips.

With a sly smile, you brushed a kiss over his mouth, barely a whisper of touch, before you let your hand work up and down his length, slow and deliberate. His eyelids fluttered at the sensation, lips parting as he tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat to your view.

God, the way he looked in that moment—lost and completely yours—made something tighten in your chest. A shuddered breath escaped his lips, breaking into a groan that seemed to take all the air from the room.

He felt it, the pull between you both. That magnetic force that had been there since the first time you saw him sitting on your parents couch, unreadable and infuriating. Now, here he was, completely undone by you, eyes dark with need, his hands leaving marks on your skin as if trying to hold onto you, to keep you tethered. But you wanted more than that—you wanted to give him more, to show him how good you could make him feel.

You shifted back on the bed, your legs folding beneath you, bringing your mouth level with him. With a teasing pause, you took him in hand again, guiding him towards your lips without quite touching. Joel’s breath stuttered, and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up so he could see your eyes.

“Show me how much I fucking need this, now,” he blurted out, his thick voice piercing your bones, as he pulled you closer to the tip of his dick.

You gave in, tongue slipping out to taste him, the salt and heat of him filling your senses. He groaned, his hips jerking forward, but you held firm, only letting him in bit by bit. When you finally took him into your mouth, the stretch was just enough to feel like a challenge, a thrill. He let out a low, shaky exhale, but you didn’t stop. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, moving with a rhythm that made his fingers tighten in your hair.

You were drooling, saliva dripping down your chin as you picked up speed, Joel ramming into your throat almost causing you to gag.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he whispered.

You didn't care, you wanted to eat him whole. And the sound that echoed through the four walls was obscene, wet, worthy of taking you to hell. And you loved it, loved it too much.

Joel was soaked in your saliva, it dripped from his cock every time your mouth approached his tip. So you grabbed him with one hand, jerking him off as you moved your lips to his balls, giving them a little kiss before taking them into your mouth and licking them with need.

But just as you leaned in to take him deeper again, Joel's hand found your hair, pulling you back with a gasp. He stared down at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and awe, chest heaving.

“You’re going to kill me,” he managed, his lips twisting into a rough smile, as if the idea didn’t bother him much.

You only answered with a mischievous look, taking him back into your mouth, this time letting him see everything, your eyes fixed on his as your lips wrapped around him. His hands tightened in your hair, his face twisted with the need to control himself.

“Fuck” he muttered, voice breaking. But then he yanked you back again, breathing heavily. “On your back.”

You obeyed, shifting onto the bed, your body singing with anticipation as he settled between your legs. Joel’s hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, and he lowered himself until he was almost flush against you. You trembled beneath his gaze, feeling exposed in every sense, but there was something intoxicating in being seen by him like this, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

His fingers traced a slow, teasing line down your stomach, dipping between your legs. When he found your clit, a slow circle of his thumb sent a shock through you, making you arch into him. The look he gave you was dark and satisfied, as if he’d uncovered some secret you’d been hiding.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate,” he murmured, watching your expression change, drinking in the way you gasped and arched for him. “Is that what you’ve been dreaming about? Me, fucking you?”

“Yes, Joel,” you answered, the words slipping out before you could think. “Please, fuck me.”

He just smiled, shaking his head. “Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and unhurried, even as his thumb sped up its torture, drawing moans from you that you couldn’t keep back. His eyes bore into yours, unyielding. “You need to beg better than that.”

He had known exactly how much power he held, savoring it until the very last moment, until his own desire got the better of him. Without a word, he lowered his mouth onto you, sealing it around your most sensitive spot, his tongue moving in waves, patient but relentless.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a cry, your fingers twisting into his hair, trying to anchor yourself against the onslaught.

Joel sucked at you with a gentleness that felt like a contradiction, each flick of his tongue pulling you closer to some edge you couldn’t quite see. The rhythm he set was almost maddeningly precise, a tempo that left you no choice but to arch your hips into him, chasing the pleasure that seemed to spill from his mouth in every movement. Your breath stuttered as he released you for a moment, his tongue sweeping lower, dragging over you slowly before dipping inside, finding that place where you needed him most.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, and the way his voice cut through the haze made you shudder. He sounded almost amused, but there was a hunger there too. “Bet feeling me in your throat got you like this, didn’t it? All swollen and ready.”

“Joel, please,” was all you managed to say, the desperation curling up in your voice like a plea. It felt raw, something you didn’t want to give him but couldn’t keep back.

He didn’t make you wait—his mouth was on you again, as if he’d been starved for you. He kissed and sucked at you like it was the only way to survive, his mouth devouring, each motion of his tongue sending pulses of sensation through every inch of your body. You could feel the texture of the sheets beneath you, the cool air on your skin where his lips weren’t, but all of it blurred together under the hot, unrelenting focus of his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair, trying to find some control, but it was impossible. It was too much, and you let yourself go, surrendering to the flood of sensation.

You tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a high-pitched cry, and he felt it in the way your body arched beneath him, trembling with the intensity that rolled through you. His rhythm never wavered, the friction of his mouth pushing you deeper into that overwhelming feeling. When it became too much, you pulled your hips back with what little strength you had left, and the sound of him coming off you was slick, leaving your skin sensitive and flushed.

Your clit throbbed, swollen and pink, still tingling with the aftershocks of his attention. And just as you tried to catch your breath, he shifted you onto your side with his steady hands, his chest pressing against your back. The warmth of him behind you was dizzying, the closeness both comforting and unbearable. It wasn’t enough—you wanted him closer, to sink into him completely, to forget where you ended and he began.

Your mind spun as he kissed the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your ear.

“I was behind you, wasn’t I?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost like a secret between the two of you.

A smile tugged at your lips, the meaning sinking in, the memory of your dream making your pulse race again. Before you could respond, his hand found your waist, his fingers kneading into your skin. He remembered without you needing to say a word.

You guided his hand down, trailing over the curve of your stomach until he reached the sensitive spot between your legs, still pulsing from his earlier attention. You shifted back against him, feeling his hardness against your ass, a reminder of how much more he wanted.

“Kiss my neck,” you whispered, and he didn’t hesitate. His mouth found the spot that made your breath catch, and your skin prickled under the heat of his lips. You shivered as you guided his hand lower, until his fingers pressed against you, finding that aching place with an agonizing slowness. The sensation made you moan, a sound you couldn’t hold back.

He took over then, his fingers slipping inside you, and you moved with him, setting the rhythm until he matched it. His lips grazed your earlobe, his teeth scraping lightly as he added another finger, stretching you, pushing deeper. The motion was intimate, almost unbearably so, his breath fanning against your skin, his voice a rough murmur against your ear.

“And then,” you started, your voice unsteady, barely holding on to the thread of your thoughts. “Then—fuck me Joel, please.”

His fingers slipped out of you, and his hand landed on your bottom with a firm smack, the sound cracking through the air and making you yelp softly.

“Be a good girl and spread those legs for me,” he ordered, voice thick, his fingers pressing into your thigh as he guided your leg back, opening you up to him.

The anticipation twisted inside you, tightening like a spring, and you pushed back against him, turning your head to meet his eyes. They were so close, so dark with desire, and when he finally pushed inside you, the stretch of him was enough to leave you breathless.

You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as your body adjusted to the feel of him, to the way he filled you completely. He didn’t move, letting you take in the heat and pressure of his body, the fullness that made your head spin. And then his hand found your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse before he squeezed, just enough to make your breath hitch.

He turned your head with a gentle but insistent grip, catching your mouth in a bruising kiss. “So tight, so wet, just for me,” he rasped, his voice trembling against your lips.

“Just for you, Joel,” you managed to reply, your voice cracking into a sob.

And then he started to move, his hips finding a steady, unyielding rhythm. Each thrust seemed to reach deeper, leaving you wrecked, clinging to the sound of his breath in your ear and the way his body collided with yours. You could have listened to those ragged, desperate sounds he made forever, each one making you feel like you had him in your hands even as you surrendered everything.

“You're close,” he said in your ear, his words barely a broken whisper. He could feel it inside of your throbbing cunt. “Come for me, baby, I want to feel you break over me, is that what you need?”

“Y—yes, Joel, fuck.”

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

His firm voice in your ear was enough for the explosion to invade your body, making you open your mouth in a silent scream and tighten around him, squeezing him devastatingly tight.

“Oh God,” Joel moaned in agony, his hard movements becoming unsynchronized. His mouth caught your sweaty neck in desperation, digging his teeth into you hungrily as his hand, still on your neck, held you immobile beneath his lips.

A primal sound came from him, making you moan again. His body tensed and his quivering lips released your flesh.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, baby,” he cried, cumming inside you.

Deep inside you, his warm seed spurted out as he lay still, unmoving as his discharge filled you.

His hand released you, leaving a soft pink mark on your skin, and you pulled back seeking his lips, which captured yours in less than a second.

His hand gave you a gentle spank, and a smile from you broke the kiss.

As you looked into his eyes, still dark, his words echoed in your mind.

No, there was no turning back now.

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subby-succubus · 5 months ago

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Imagine you're sitting in my lap and I'm giving you pills from an unlabeled bottle. Little capsules, all different colors, almost like candy. You keep taking them like a good little whore, sucking my fingers each time. You have no idea what they are, and you don't care. You'd do anything you were told to do AND you'd probably take a pill you found on the ground. There was no way this could ever be your limit.

Your head is spinning a little already. The lights are brighter than they should be. You can mostly think clearly. Well, you THINK you're thinking clearly. Oh, it's time for the next pill! How many is that? Has to be more than five, couldn't be more than, um... Twenty? You think maybe they're starting to really kick in now. Every sense is pulsing, growing and receding in intensity. You try to say something, but it slips out of your mouth and turns into a few happy syllables. "I know, Angel. Here, one more."

I ask what you want to do. You giggle and turn and slip to the floor. You reach for my belt and fumble at the buckle. I smile at you as I undo it and strip off my pants. "Of course we can."

Your mouth isn't so much opened for me as it is hanging limp, but it's warm and wet all the same. I take hold of your hair and push inside your throat. I'm having to do all the work, but you seem happy enough. You're not blacking out just yet, but it can't be far away. You moan and fumble at your own tits and pretend to help me fuck you, but you're getting limper with every passing second.

I figure I'm ready to move on. You figure you're ready to go to sleep. We can both have what we want, really. I strip off what little you're wearing, and the last thing you feel as you drift away is the head of my cock starting to enter your...

Imagine you're waking up, right where you went to sleep. How long has it been? You're still naked. I'm still there. I have one hand on your cheek and the other jerking my cock, slowly. When I see your eyes flutter open, I speed up. You try to say something. Try.

I take my hand off my cock to grab the pill bottle. I shake three of them into your hand. "Go ahead."

You take them, of course. Then I throw back the rest of the bottle into my mouth and swallow them all.

You're shocked. I'm laughing. My hand is back on my cock, making myself cum on your face. "It was a joke, silly slut. They're all placebos!" I smear my load across your face, let you down gently to a lying position. I wipe my cock on your clothes, throw them on top of you, and walk away.

Now imagine that before starting our little game tonight, I took the placebo bottle and put two dozen real pills on top of it. You swallowed them all. What were they? You don't know. I've already forgotten. Who gives a shit anyway. What matters is I drugged you into unconsciousness, did God knows what with your body, and then convinced you that you were sober the whole time. Isn't that hilarious?

- Sinister

Wow. Wow wow wow. Yes please.

I'd just keep taking anything you gave me. I'd want to be a good girl for you after all. Each pill making me more and more needy. Each time I think less and less about the consequences by replacing those thoughts with how badly I want to be obedient. I mean, I can't say no. How could I? I want so badly to please you. Wanting to pleasure you with my mouth. Wanting more, but feeling too sleepy. I fall asleep for you to do whatever you want to my little, weak body.

I wake up feeling hot and used. Not sure what happened to me. Not sure what is currently happening. Not fully understanding how I could be like that with placebos. But if you say so, it must be true. After all, you wouldn't lie to me. It's my fault for being such a dumb slut. It's my fault for being so easy.

It would just make our game so much harder for me to win. Just like it should be.

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verynormaleatinghab1ts · 4 months ago

Text

Master list of everything I do/have done for wɛight lºss:

For context: I've had an ɛd since the beginning of 2022 (though possibly longer?) and have had a lot of trial and error in that time. I am currently at my all-time lowest wɛight and this is my third or fourth rɛlapse. My heavıest ever was ɓmi 25. For this rɛlapse my start was ɓmi 23 at the beginning of August and now I'm down to ɓmi 18.7 as of October. This is gonna be a very thorough master list of all the stuff I keep consistent at to lºse wɛight.

1. Hydration:

Ik you are hearing this for the umpteenth time but DRINK SO MUCH WATER. I probably drink anywhere from 70-100 oz of water a day. You should drink at least HALF YOUR BODY WɛIGHT IN OUNCES of water every day (120 lbs = 60oz water minimum). Whenever my cup is empty I refill it asap or drink sparkling water which I LOVE. The reasons for this are obvious, it takes up stomach space, fends off hunger pangs, hydration, yada yada hopefully you know what water is and does.

2. Other drinks:

I very scarcely consume liquid cªlories. If I want a drink with more flavor, sparkling water, unsweetened tea, or (very rarely) zero/diɛt of whatever soda I'm craving. I don't like energy drinks/coffee but those work as well.

That being said, I still allow it sometimes (meaning if my cªlorie budget allows for it). For example, my favorite drink is AriZona green tea, which is not very high in cªlories if you find the right portion size. The bottles are 160 cªls each, and they sell regular 12 oz cans for 80 cªls each. It's all about portion sizes, even for drinks!

Otherwise, I don't drink a lot of juice or soda anyway. If I do want juice, I try to get it in pouch/can/bottle form instead of from the jugs so they are pre-portioned and I don't have to wɛigh it out to calculate cªls. I have some compulsory thing that I feel the need to CHUG every drink I have, so this helps keep me from gulping down half a gallon of sugar water and is still within my budget. I don't drink protein shakes really, but if it's within your budget, there's no reason not to (especially as a meal replacement).

For alcºhol… sometimes I let myself splurge on cªls a little bit bc these days I only drink if I'm REALLY going through it (bc cªlories got me trippin' so hard I kind of stopped being an alcºholic), but otherwise, I hardly drink at all anymore. When I do, I'll do shots of whatever liquºr I've got atm. 90-100 cªls a shot is atrocious but on an empty stomach, it'll hit quick. Other options I've utilized include hard seltzers, liquºr in diet soda/watered-down juice, or spiked teas. Lower in cªls than other things (generally) and good for someone with a lower alc tolerance. I love beer and wine but it's just not effective and too high cªl if I'm looking to get smashed.

3. Apple Cider Vinegar:

Pretty much since I developed an ɛd, apple cider vinegar has been involved in some form or another. I should also mention that all of these methods have helped a lot with my acne (which was my main excuse for why I was always consuming these things so often). *I DONT ACTUALLY KNOW IF IT DOES ANYTHING BUT I WILL ALWAYS TAKE A WɛIGHT LºSS PLACEBO IF IT WORKS*

At first, I would take shots (2 TBSP or 1.5 oz) of it in the morning every day, usually just alongside water or tea (though I never personally minded the taste that much). I wouldn't recommend this method since it definitely irritates your teeth/mouth/throat/stomach after prolonged use, and makes your stomach hurt if you don't take it with enough water.

Next, I tried ACV gummies. The downside, is these do have cªls (I think about 20 or 30 for 2 pieces?) and unfortunately I found them delicious so they were always tempting me from my bathroom cabinet. Also, they were pricey and inconvenient since I'd always forget to ɛat them in the morning.

Now I take ACV capsules since I prefer to just swallow pills over chewing up a sticky little gummy every morning. No cªls, no taste, quick and easy, MUCH cheaper. I take 2 in the morning and 2 at night, but DO NOT start with that many because it will hurt your stomach. Start with just one in the morning and increase from there.

4. Intake:

I want to make it very clear that ɛating ANY amount under your BMR (basal mɛtabolic rate) will result in wɛight lºss, and this can be calculated on various websites. You don't have to ɛat under 1000 to lºse. You could ɛat OVER 1000 and still lºse. Please use your best judgment to find the right amount for your needs.

I don't track/count net cªlories (cªlories after subtracting cªlories burned), only the total amount of cªlories I CONSUME. I may bump it up a little *very sparingly* but I've maybe only done that 3 or 4 times in the past three months, and never any more than my maintenance cªlories. For me, 500-800 range is just enough to keep me from going insane while still consistently dropping a good amount of wɛight every week. And I don't track seasonings at all because that's literally dumb lol. If using enough salt and pepper to kill a small child will get you to fill up on broccoli instead of bınging on chips who gaf. It'll be >5 cªls regardless, you'll burn that many cªls just sprinkling it in and chewing.

5. Tracking cªls:

I track everything I eat and I wɛigh out my fºod pretty frequently, but usually only for things like meat, dairy, or high carb/sugar foºds. 5 or 10 extra grams that I would let slide before could add a lot more cªlories than you realize (and mostly from fªt or sugar 😧). I don't bother wɛighing out low cªl foods usually, I just make rough wɛight/volume measurements. I usually overestimate my cªls and still end up ɛating below my budget anyway. As someone who would wɛigh out every single little thing that went into my body (including water) to the hundredth decimal gram, being obsessive about it will drive you insane and you will risk a miserable bınge/rɛstrict cycle. It's stressful and annoying and you will still lºse wɛight if you don't.

I don't track/care about my macrºs at all. I do try to ɛat more protein than bread and sugar when I can, but I don't really prioritize it. I would recommend that you do though, PRIORITIZE PROTEIN AND FIBER because these keep you full for longer and will help you to feel less tired from undɛrɛating.

6. Fªsting/OMªD:

What I feel has been absolutely key to my success has been fªsting and OMªD (one mɛal a day). I fªst a minimum of 20 hours every day and only ɛat dinner (because it's required in my house) + a small snack (usually an apple 🤤). My dinners range anywhere from 200-600 cªls and I never let my snack go over 200 cªls. This keeps me full through the night, and throughout the day I tend to keep myself so busy that I forget to ɛat anyway.

Once (sometimes twice) a week I will do a fªst anywhere between 40-50 hours but I would recommend 24-36 hours for someone who does not fªst for long periods as often since this has had a lot of negative side effects for me (fainting, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, stomachache, headache, low blood pressure, spikes/drops in heart rate, weakness, exhaustion). A lot of my issues come from overproduction of stomach acid, dehydration, and general shitty blood circulation. If you do want to fªst for longer periods, here are my tips:

Constantly be drinking water and stay super hydrated.

Chew gum, this produces saliva and reduces acid production.

Absolutely NO carbonated drinks, this will INCREASE acid production!

Extremely light to NO exercise (I break this rule a lot 😓), conserve your energy while fasting.

Drink hot liquids (tea, coffee, water) in the morning, this keeps me from getting nauseous and lightheaded throughout the day.

My body cannot handle any pills/vitamins on an empty stomach, so take with caution (obv don't do this if you take medication you're required to take with food)

Overall reduce stimuli like lights, sounds, temperatures, and smells. These usually make my side effects much worse and cause me to get sick more often (but I also have autism so that may factor).

Keep yourself occupied, preferably something with your hands. I get a lot done with school and a lot of my hobbies like writing, puzzles, painting, etc. I also deep clean and organize things around the house frequently which keeps me occupied for a couple hours.

7. Exercise:

In the past, I had a pretty bad exercise ªddiction whenever I would be deep in my ɛd, and honestly, it didn't help much at all. It made me extremely tired and sore all the time and it led me to bınge often because I told myself it would "cancel out". Exercise does not contribute to wɛightlºss as much as people think it does, since wɛightlºss is primarily done through your diɛt. Now, I exercise once or twice a week (if at all), and this is the most wɛight I've ever lost and KEPT OFF, so slowing down on the exercise has really helped me a lot. I primarily do cardio like walking, stairmaster, playing sports, home workouts etc., but nothing super intense. I only aim to get over 2000 steps a day and am pretty sedentary because of school.

8. Actual foods I eat:

Disclaimer: Outside of ªna, I also have dealt with ARFıD/super picky ɛating my whole life, so this list won't be super varied and relatively basic.

First things first, take multivitamins/supplements. Especially Iron, Calcium, Vitamin B12, and Vitamin D. I prefer capsules, but if gummies, drink mixes, etc are easier DO THAT. These are essential vitamins and minerals that will keep you from feeling like walking dead.

Protein: I have never ɛaten pork, and I very scarcely ɛat beef or lamb. I pretty much only ɛat chicken/turkey for everything which is leaner and higher in protein than other meats. I don't like/ɛat seafood or tofu, but that's also an option. I fucking LOVE eggs they're one of my favorite foºds, plus decently low cªl, protein, filling, and delectable in any form. I really really like nuts as well (esp cashews) but it's very rare I get to ɛat them because they are so high cªl 😓 However if you do they're a good source of healthy fªts and protein! I save it for special occasions.

Veggies/fruits: I ɛat A LOT of fruits and veggies bc I try to incorporate several into any foºd I make. Cooking pasta? Fill it with veggies. Stir fry? 90% veggies. Literally anything else? Half my plate is veggies. Volume ɛating is a lifesaver. It keeps me full, adds fiber and vitamins to my diɛt, and is low cªl because they're mostly water, so I ɛat them as much as I want. The fruits/veg I ɛat the most: spinach, kale, lettuce, cabbage, fresh herbs, tomatoes, peppers, onion, broccoli, green beans, ginger, bok choy, carrots, apples, raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, strawberries, grapes, melon, citrus, bananas.

Dairy: Low fªt, skim, or 0% fªt dairy products are always the go-to, you get the same result for whatever you're subbing it for. I haven't drank cows milk since I was a wee child because it's disgusting and I don't really ɛat any dairy other than cheese, so making this swap wasn't very difficult for me. I do try to limit dairy as much as I can though because it is so high in fªt and cªlories. If a recipe has butter or cream I try to leave it out or use as little as possible.

"Breads": I still ɛat things like pasta, tortillas, rice, and regular bread frequently, just in small amounts. And I will almost never double up on 'breads' (like having a bread roll and pasta together). I try to ɛat protein pasta over regular to at least get some benefit from it since it is so high cªl. Lower cªl options you can have a little more freely are anything keto or gluten-free/vegan options. Sometimes if I want toast or a sandwich I will cut one slice of bread in half so I have two very thin slices and it tricks me into thinking I ªte more than I really did. I really love instant noodles but unfortunately they are very high in cªlories so I haven't ɛaten them in a very long time ☹️. Instead I ɛat rice noodles or instant pho since it's pretty low cªl compared to the fried wheat noodles.

9. Junk food swaps/junkorɛxia:

Okay I know you just saw the big list of "healthy" foods but I am a junkorɛxic to my CORE. I love sugar, I love desserts, I love bread, I love cheese, I love chips, I love fast foºd, all of the worst highest cªlorie garbage you can think of. I still ɛat these things from time to time believe it or not, but now we're going back to portion control. Brownies are one of my favorite treats, and I still get to have them if it's *within my budget*. I can still have bread, and chips, and cookies etc, as long as it's *within my budget*. You don't necessarily have to completely cut these things out, because I know when I do, I go crazy and bınge on all of these foºds eventually. Even still, I don't ɛat these fºods very often because I found lower cªl swaps!

I'm not going to try to lie to you and tell you "if you want potato chips ɛat baked broccoli or seaweed instead ❤️" because that shit is WACK and not at all like chips. Here are some swaps I make for most of the garbage I usually would ɛat for the fellow junkorɛxics:

N!CKS/halotop ice cream, zero sugar popsicles/bars: lowest cªl ice cream flavors of N!CKS ice cream are around 1 cªl per gram! I like these because they feel less heavy in my stomach than regular ice cream, and taste more like frozen yogurt anyway 🤤. I haven't actually tried halotop but I assume both brands are similar. Popsicles I can't ever tell a difference, it's just flavored with ice sugar or flavored ice with no sugar, neither are super high cal.

Sugar-free jello and pudding: self-explanatory, taste very very close to the regular to me so I don't even realize a difference! I hate yogurt but zero sugar greek yogurts would work too if you're into that. I use this as a swap for jellos/puddings/ice cream.

Baked chips, savory rice crisps, popcorn: baked chips are lower cªl and lower in fªt by weight, but they taste way different from the regular so don't expect them to be the same. Rice crisps are super low cªl compared to chips and come in a lot of flavors (I like these better than regular chips most of the time bc they're crunchier). Popcorn (even the buttered or other flavors) isn't as high cªl as I assumed it was! Plus it's high volume and filling, bc I know my ass cannot finish a whole bag of microwave popcorn to myself.

Sweet rice cakes, fiber one bars, graham crackers, cinnamon raisin bread, frozen waffles or pancakes (ordered low–high cªl): These are my replacement "baked goods" because that is something I crave a lot. I know most of these aren't at all like cookies, but it works for me personally and I can fit them into my small-ish budget regularly without having to bake everything myself all the time. Even outside of having an ɛd I've always loved rice cakes, so regardless I ɛat them a lot, low cªl, CRUNCHY, cheap. Fiber one bars are like 60-90 cªls + fiber ofc. Graham crackers are 130 cªls for 2 sheets. Cinnamon raisin bread is 90 cªls a slice (personal fav). Frozen waffles/pancakes are usually around 200 cªls a serving.

Sugar-free candy/other: I think it's good to assume any candy that's keto or dairy/sugar-free will be lower cªl than the regular version. I don't really ɛat a lot of candy day-to-day but whenever I crave it I go for granola or fiber one bars, or have a small amount of dark chocolate instead. If I'm craving sour candy, I'll have fruit, jello, fruit gummies, or drink juice. These aren't very good or direct swaps, but I tend to crave flavors and textures more than specific fºod items (if that makes sense). But regardless, if I have enough cªls leftover, I just ɛat the real thing lol.

10. Cook your own food:

Cooking for myself 99% of the time has been crucial for my wɛightlºss. I'm able to wɛigh and portion out all my ingredients accurately to get exact cªlories for anything I make. Plus this way I can throw tons of vegetables into whatever I make to give it more volume/nutrition.

I also cook for my whole family, which means they constantly have high cªl requests for what they want me to make like pastas, fried foºds, burgers, etc. If I know for certain it will fit into my budget, I'll just ɛat it (with much difficulty) so they don't get suspicious. However I'll also swap/remove the super high cªl parts in recipes completely and other times I will add all the high cªl stuff to just their portions and keep a 'clean' portion for myself.

I will pretty much never get take out unless my whole family is getting it, and even then, I try to just have leftovers or cook my own meal instead. If I HAVE to get take out, I try to get the lowest cªl thing I possibly can.

11. Avoiding bınges/munchies:

Out of everything, I would say avoiding bınges is the hardest psychological aspect to get past. I smºke 🍃 every night to sleep, so I be getting the munchies really bad sometimes, and sometimes it feels like there's only so much to do before my brain goes "fuck it" and starts ɛating everything in sight. These are basic, but here are the things that have worked the best for me consistently:

Sparkling water/flavored diɛt drinks. You get the satisfaction of having some sort of flavor on your tongue without the consequences of ɛating, and takes up room in your stomach to trigger fullness hormones.

Gum (especially mint flavor) tricks my brain into thinking I'm ɛating something + mint works as an appɛtite suppressªnt.

Staying busy is the biggest thing, always be doing something that is tedious or involves a lot of focus. I'm very easily distractable regardless, but the second I've really set my attention to one thing, I don't think about anything else. Read/listen to a book, get out of the house and wander for a bit, go for a drive, watch a movie, do a craft, online window shop, play a computer/mobile game, clean/organize. I will very frequently leave my house to wander aimlessly around a store just to get away from any fºod.

When in doubt, sleep it off. At night especially, I'm too lazy to really do all that much so if I feel like I'm going to lose my grip on reality, spark up another bowl and pass tf out. Can't ɛat if I'm sleepin'!

Chɛw/Spıt: I feel like this used to be more popular with ɛd ppl a few years ago but I hardly see anyone talk about doing it now. I do this mostly with mɛals I don't want to ɛat when I'm fªsting or with all the trash I would want to bınge on and it honestly works really well for me! You do probably end up consuming a very small amount of the cªlories, but I always make sure to spıt everything out really well and rinse my mouth/brush my teeth right after.

And that's all I think. Thank you for reading! I spent a lot of time on this so reblogs are appreciated! I hope some of this is at least somewhat helpful to anyone. If y'all have any questions, reach out! Please stay safe, help is always out there whenever you need it. Cheers!

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bisexualbaker · 11 months ago

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A Secret Fifth Method (that maybe shouldn't be secret)

That poll on taking pills and such from the other day has got people comparing notes, and apparently the information I got isn't common knowledge or whatever?

See, my mom taught me that solid pills and tablets, you tilt your head back to swallow for best results; capsules, meanwhile, float, so when you take them with a drink, you tilt your head forwards to swallow them. From my understanding, the goal is to get them as close as you can to the back of your mouth for better swallowing.

So because the two different types of meds have different swallowing methods, and I take both, I don't take all of them in one go. (I mean, I don't even take all of my solid pills together, but I used to get heartburn from taking my meds the wrong way, so I'm inclined to take it easy with them when I can.)

Anyway, it probably doesn't work for everyone, but if you have trouble with pills and the like, it might be worth a shot.

#medication #oral medication #pills #tablets #capsules #better living through pharmaceuticals #better living through chemistry #swallowing is about muscles and not gravity #which is why you can swallow something even if you're upside-down #but getting the stuff in your mouth in the first place #and where it ends up in your mouth #that's affected by gravity #also fluid dynamics

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xanthiccircuitry · 1 month ago

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Imagine loving someone so much that you would go through the agony of living for them

Imagine yearning for their companionship so long that you feel like enough of an empty shell to be a capsule yourself

Imagine not being able to stand it when it's weeks and then having to wait a hundred years-- but you don't know that it's a hundred years. You don't know there's an end coming. There is just the rest of the life of an unaging, unchanging statue, knowing that it could be hundreds of years, maybe forever

Imagine people telling you to find somewhere else to put that love, to direct those feelings, as if they aren't big enough to swallow you whole, as if you can properly grieve and mourn when you know that whom you desire the most has a heart that is still beating

How could you possibly get over someone who isn't gone?

Imagine, then, the release of being shattered to the core of your being, finally some form of release from the pain... And there is still yearning left behind.

There's enough yearning to create a whole new person

And still your soul is sad.

Imagine loving someone so much you'd die for them...only to find out that the living is the hard part. And still doing it.

So... Yeah, I sorta get the Leviathan thing.

Dying for someone is easy, it's the living that's the hard part.

#mmz #cex #original x #mmz zero #(z)ero #im totally normal about learning how long X tried to save the world from itself and rule Neo Arcadia

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sheebawilson · 19 days ago

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DigestSync Supplements - health

DigestSync Supplements: A Natural Solution for Better Digestion and Overall Health

I recently used the DigestSync Supplements, and I must say, they have truly transformed my digestive health. As someone who has struggled with occasional bloating and discomfort, I was eager to try a natural solution, and DigestSync exceeded my expectations. Below is my detailed review of this fantastic product.

Improved Digestion and Gut Health

From the first few days of using DigestSync, I noticed a significant improvement in my digestion. My stomach felt lighter, and I no longer experienced the bloating and sluggishness that used to bother me after meals. The supplement’s powerful blend of digestive enzymes and probiotics seems to work effectively to support a balanced gut, which has made a noticeable difference in my daily comfort.

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DigestSync contains probiotics that help maintain a balanced gut microbiome, which is essential for long-term health. I’ve noticed an improvement in my overall wellness, including fewer digestive upsets and a stronger immune system. Having a healthy gut has truly enhanced my daily life in ways I didn’t expect.

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DigestSync is incredibly easy to incorporate into my routine. The capsules are small and easy to swallow, and they don’t cause any discomfort or side effects. Unlike some digestive supplements that can be harsh on the stomach, this one is gentle and effective, making it suitable for daily use.

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Considering the range of benefits DigestSync provides, I believe it offers excellent value for money. Many digestive supplements are overpriced or fail to deliver noticeable results, but DigestSync is both affordable and highly effective. It’s a worthwhile investment in long-term health and wellbeing.

Conclusion: A Must-Have for Digestive Support

After using DigestSync Supplements for over a month, I can confidently say they have made a significant difference in my digestive health and overall wellness. From reducing bloating to increasing energy levels, the benefits are undeniable.

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#DigestSync #Supplements - health #digestivehealth #digestion #digestivesupport #health and wellness #healing

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angelnumber27 · 11 months ago

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Supplements will be like “just three easy to swallow capsules each day!!!!” and the pills are like this

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product-health789 · 30 days ago

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My experience with mytolyn dietary supplement for weight loss

Introduction: My Journey Begins I recently had the pleasure of trying Mitolyn, a dietary supplement designed for weight loss, and I must say, it exceeded my expectations in every way. Like many people, I struggled to shed those stubborn extra pounds despite exercising regularly and maintaining a relatively healthy diet. Mitolyn proved to be the game-changer I needed, and I am excited to share my experience.

First Impressions and Ease of Use When I first received Mitolyn, I was impressed by the thoughtful packaging and clear instructions provided. The capsules were easy to incorporate into my daily routine, with no unusual aftertaste or discomfort. This was a significant advantage, as I’ve previously encountered products that were difficult to swallow or had a strong, unpleasant odour. Mitolyn stood out for its simplicity and user-friendliness right from the start.

Noticeable Energy Boost One of the first benefits I noticed after using Mitolyn was a marked increase in my energy levels. Within a week, I felt more alert and capable of tackling my daily tasks with vigour. This boost in energy not only made my workouts more effective but also helped me stay consistent with my fitness goals. The supplement appeared to work in harmony with my body, providing a natural lift without the jittery side effects that some weight-loss products can cause.

Steady and Sustainable Weight Loss Over the course of two months, I began to see real, measurable results. I lost nearly 6 kilograms, which was both motivating and reassuring. Unlike quick-fix solutions that lead to yo-yo dieting, Mitolyn helped me achieve steady progress. My clothes fit better, and I started receiving compliments from friends and family, which was incredibly uplifting. What I appreciated most was that the weight loss felt natural—I didn’t feel like I was depriving myself or putting undue stress on my body.

Improved Digestion and Overall Well-Being Another unexpected benefit was the improvement in my digestion. Mitolyn seemed to have a positive impact on my gut health, reducing bloating and helping me feel lighter throughout the day. Additionally, I noticed a general sense of well-being that I attribute to the supplement’s carefully chosen ingredients. Knowing that the product is made from high-quality, scientifically-backed components gave me confidence in its safety and efficacy.

Conclusion: A Highly Recommended Solution In conclusion, my experience with Mitolyn has been overwhelmingly positive. This dietary supplement not only helped me achieve my weight-loss goals but also enhanced my energy levels, digestion, and overall wellness. I wholeheartedly recommend Mitolyn to anyone seeking a reliable, effective, and natural solution for weight management. It has truly transformed my journey, and I am confident it can do the same for others.

If you are considering a supplement to support your weight-loss efforts, give Mitolyn a try—you might just find it’s the missing piece in your path to a healthier, happier

#mytolyn dietary supplement for weight loss #health & fitness #health tips #health care

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frogshipping · 1 month ago

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How They Got Together: Viti and Goku

This is a little post series I'm doing to explain how my s/i('s) get with a specific f/o. These are going to be summaries and not actual oneshots about the pairings (though they get long. Especially this one, because there's a lot of details!). The writing isn't even close to my best work due to the nature of it being a summary, so don't judge my skills based on this series

With that said, let's talk about my main selfship:

Viti zapped into the Dragon Ball Z universe at the beginning of the Buu saga, just in time to sign up for the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai. Viti hadn't yet realized what universe she was in; only that there was a fighting tournament going on, and that she wanted to compete. After changing outfits, Viti applied for the adult’s division, and began tearing her way through the ranks of the competition.

Viti was having the time of their life, confidence flaring and heart pounding with all the buzz and excitement. She felt as though she could win this, make a name for themself in this strange, new universe. That was, until she noticed a familiar mess of black hair from across the way.

Suddenly all of her confidence drained, fluster taking its place. They realized what universe they were in now. They would recognize the man approaching them anywhere. Ever since they were little, Viti had held great admiration for Goku. She'd grown up watching DBZ, and used it as a guide to train herself in the use of ki energy, as well as inspiration for learning martial arts. Before the whole media-universe-hopping-shenanigans, she would have never imagined she'd get to meet him. Even now, she hadn't thought she'd be a blip on his radar. Still, the saiyan with the sunshine-bright smile came over and introduced himself. Apparently, he'd been watching her fight.

Meeting him killed Viti's hope of winning. Yet the thought of potentially going up against Goku thrilled her. The reality that he was trying to befriend her excited her even more.

The pair clicked immediately, their conversation easy and pleasant. It felt like they'd known each other forever. To Viti, It was a strange feeling. She was not one to trust easily. Yet she had no hesitation with Goku. And Goku certainly hadn't caught on to how flustered Viti was, only reflecting back the hyper energy she gave off. Soon, he invited her to join him and his friends as they waited for their next matches to start.

And that's where everything went to shit. Canon events continued to occur basically the same from this point on, though Viti was there tagging along. She went with Goku and the others to confront Babidi. She was there when Vegeta became Majin and killed half a stadium full of people. And they were among the very few survivors of Buu's Earthling eradication. She distracted Buu by fighting him when Vegito was swallowed. And they helped project Hercule Satan's voice across the globe with her powers to help grow Goku's Spirit Bomb.

When the dust settled and peace was accomplished at last, Viti decided she was going to stay in the DBZ universe permanently. They'd been hopping from media universe to media universe for years. Their hope of getting back home had diminished. This was as good of a place to settle as any. Besides, Viti liked the people here, and the possibility of participating in more world shattering battles. She also really liked Goku. They'd become good friends, and he even offered to train her, seeing the potential she had inside. Viti wasn't going to pass up that kind of once in a lifetime opportunity. So she accepted the saiyan's offer, and temporarily moved into Capsule Corp while she put her new life together.

That was the beginning of their soon to come relationship. As Viti and Goku trained together, they found similarities among each other. They both loved to go on adventures, interact with animals, and have a big tasty meal. Their humor was the same, and they joked around constantly whenever they hung out. Eventually they started spending time together outside of sparring. They had a routine of grabbing lunch at various restaurants when they were done. Or Viti would whip up a meal for the two of them to share. Then that evolved into going to new places to explore. Soon, there were times the pair would spend time together and not even train at all. That was unusual for Goku. People started to notice the extra attention he gave to Viti. Mainly Vegeta and Chi-chi.

This friendly ritual between Viti and Goku went on for three years. Viti's feelings for Goku over that time started to grow from admiration to adoration. But she refused to acknowledge that she had romantic attraction towards him, especially because he had a family.

That was until he invited her to spend a day with him in the Room of Spirit and Time. Everything changed between the pair once they entered the chamber. Over what–to them–felt like a year, their relationship blossomed from something friendly to something more domestic. They were closer in the room, with everything being just the two of them. They trained together constantly, slept in the same space, and cooked together. In their downtime they would talk of deep things, and watch movies on the laptop Viti snuck in.

Things escalated when Goku witnessed Viti having nightmares. He took to soothing her after them, and discovering all the horrors she was reliving through them. Cuddling became a regular routine, and soon the pair couldn't sleep without holding each other. They sought comfort in one another, and began craving the affection.

By the end, when they'd exited the Room of Spirit and Time, both had realized they were in love with each other. Yet neither confessed, returning to their usual routines. However, a few days after they had come out of the chamber, Goku told Viti they could no longer be around each other. Viti took it to mean he stopped liking them, now that he'd gotten to live with them and see who they truly were. Heartbroken, Viti tried to be understanding. She let him go and cut contact, even if it killed them to do so.

Viti put all of her focus on getting her life in better order after that. In a year's time; she sold the blueprints and patent to the teleportation device they'd used for universe hopping to Bulma, and struck rich from it. They bought themself a house, and started attending university to follow their childhood dream of being a zoologist. They tried to focus on spending time with other friends. They even got themself a pet chicken to provide more company. Their life was turning out spectacular. Yet, Viti couldn't fill the void that'd formed in their heart.

Meanwhile, Goku was trying to fix his home life. The reason he was no longer allowing himself around Viti was because of his wife, Chi-chi. She was upset at him, calling him distant. She wanted them to become closer again, and the only way was for him to stop hanging out with his friend. Chi-chi called Viti a distraction, one that was getting between their marriage. She noted even Vegeta had recognized how much attention Goku gave the blonde god-human who'd come from another universe.

Though Goku had realized he was in love with Viti (something he'd never felt towards anyone), he still cared for Chi-chi. Their relationship didn't have the traditional romance in it. Their marriage had been arranged. Yet over the decades Goku had developed a unique type of love for Chi-chi, the one who cared for his home and raised his children. He didn't want to mess it up. So, he complied with her demands and stopped seeing Viti. Yet he could never get his mind off of her.

Over the next year Goku and Chi-chi tried to work on repairing their marriage. Though the distance between them seemed to grow even larger. Eventually, it became big enough that Chi-chi no longer cared what Goku was doing, as long as he was working and providing for their household.

One day, while Goku was working one of his jobs, he noticed a familiar head of windswept blonde hair in the passing crowd of people on the street. Calling out, he grabbed Viti's attention, hope radiating from him like a beacon.

Viti, surprised, approached the saiyan beckoning to her, hardly recognizing him with the way his hair was gelled back. They struck up a conversation, catching up on all the things that had happened with the two of them over the past year. Viti told Goku about her new house and her status as a university student. Goku told her about how he'd become a farmer, as well as Mr. Satan's bodyguard part time. Viti commended him for putting in such hard work, and wished him luck in all of his endeavors.

She was set to leave after that, her heart aching at the knowledge that he was doing so well without her in his life. Yet Goku nearly begged her to stay, offering to buy them both dinner when he was finished work for the day. Though Viti wanted to refuse, her heart pulled her towards him. So, she accepted the invite and met with him come evening.

The two of them came back together as if no time had passed. Their conversations were as easy as they had been the first time they met. Goku and Viti held great joy in finding their friendship again, even if both had feelings to hide from each other now.

Things went back to the way they used to after that dinner. Goku and Viti started to spar again, go out to lunch, and hang out with each other. Everything was wonderful, and Viti hoped nothing would change between them again, even if in secret she wanted more. But nothing ever stays the same.

During the following year, Goku and Chi-chi were having serious discussions with one another. Their marriage was worse than ever before, and the time they'd spent together with only the two of them had made things more hostile. Goku blamed it on the seven years he was in Otherworld. Chi-chi blamed their different life values. Both came to the conclusion that they were miserable together and wanted more out of living. It was a hard choice, but the pair ultimately decided it was time to go their separate ways.

And this absolutely crushed Goku. Though he held no romantic love for Chi-chi, she was all he'd ever known. She was the mother of his sons. Trying to figure out a life without her was difficult and depressing. But his friends were there to help him out. And Viti was there to cheer him on.

Goku didn't indulge in his feelings for Viti for a long while after his marriage ended. Though his heart pulled him towards her more and more. She was such a positive influence in his darkest time, and he truly was grateful for her presence. He didn't know where he'd be without her support.

One day, Goku could no longer ignore the yearning in his chest, the way he ached to spill all of his love onto Viti. He confessed to her after an intense spar, while the two took a breather to watch the setting sun.

Viti was completely blindsided by his proclamation of love. It was something she thought she could only hope for in her dreams. Yet she was hesitant. Surely there hadn't been enough time since his divorce for him to move on? Yet Goku assured he was ready. He had loved her for years, ever since that special time they'd shared together in the Room of Spirit and Time. Viti admitted she'd been hiding feelings for him since then as well, and even before. She'd always loved him, she thought. Even before she truly knew it. Goku and Viti came together in an embrace that solidified the true start of their relationship. And they've been together ever since.

#spars and stars #tadpole typewriter #selfship #selfshipping #self ship #self shipping #yumeship #yume ship #yume shipping #yumeshipping #viti stuff #carrot cake 🥕#btw if it isn't obvious dragon ball super is not canon in my selfship universe at all #I did borrow very tiny elements from it such as goku becoming a farmer and that one time he was a bodyguard at an event #and him having the slicked back hair during it (I thought it was really silly and cute)#but everything else in super is noncanon here #maybe I'll make an AU for it but I really don't like super. or the fact that god powers were introduced to the saiyans #gt is canon tho because I have nostalgia for it and istg there's shit worth reworking from it I CAN MAKE IT BETTER I CAN FIX IT I SWE-#tho no mention of the gt stuff is in here I just thought I'd state this fact #how they got together

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molsno · 8 months ago

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yesterday, I did shrooms for the first time. I wasn't really that sure what to expect. I take weed gummies every week, and I have experienced some psychogenic effects from them in the past, so I thought that they would be somewhat comparable, but they're really not. I wanted to write about my experience and organize my thoughts, so I tried to go into as much detail as possible. this post is very long, so I've put it under a read more.

first of all, I took them via capsule. I don't handle strong, bitter tastes very well, and I'd heard that's what they tasted like, so my girlfriend and I ground them up into a fine dust and packed them into pills. I ended up taking 6 pills, for a total of 1.8 grams of shrooms. I ate light beforehand since I knew nausea might be a problem. I just had a simple cheese and salami sandwich and then swallowed the pills.

it took a while for them to take effect, and I was a little anxious to find out how I would react. that said, I was in a pretty good mood yesterday - I had just had a job interview that I thought went really well, so I'd been feeling a little better than usual. normally I'm quite pessimistic, but I knew that going into a trip with a negative mindset would make for a bad experience, so I tried not to stress over it too much.

the effects were mild at first. my pupils began to dilate, and the ceiling looked as though it was tilting and rotating. the popcorn pattern had the illusion that it was sliding to the left as I stared at it, which made me giggly. based on what I'd heard, I thought that I would start having stronger visual distortions, and maybe even some hallucinations. that wasn't the case. I'd taken a milder strain of shrooms - golden teacher. and I was about to learn just how fitting that name was.

slowly, I started tearing up. I wasn't sure why it was happening at first; I thought it was just because I'd had my eyes open for a long time. but soon enough, the floodgates burst. the world fully opened up to me, and before I knew it, I couldn't stop crying tears of pure, unrestrained joy.

it's difficult to describe what it felt like, so let me give you some context. for the past 6 months, I've been unemployed since being laid off from my job, and I've been struggling to hold it together emotionally as things continue to fall apart around me. recently, every day has made me question whether or not life was even worth living. I've felt powerless to help myself as the horrors of capitalism continue to push me down and break my spirit. I've felt alienated from my friends, especially as many of them have left me and the friends I hold dear. and due to my aforementioned powerlessness, I felt as if it was impossible for me to truly help the people I care about as much as I want to, even when they're going through horrible crises, especially because of my own fears holding me back.

in an instant, all of that changed. I can honestly say I've never felt happier in my life than I did yesterday. I approached the window, which extends from floor to ceiling, and put my hands against it as I looked out. the sky was overcast, but the world had never seemed so bright. as I listened to the album "nurture" by porter robinson, I looked down at the city, watching all of the people walking around, and it dawned on me that like all of them, I'm just another person in this wide world.

it can be difficult for me to understand that, because being a marginalized trans woman living under a capitalist regime makes me feel so insignificant. but in reality, I'm connected to every single organism who's ever lived on this planet, and in that moment, I felt like I really understood what it means to be human.

in our industrialized society, it can be all too easy to downplay the significance of nature, to see it as less important than us, or in the worst cases, to see it as an obstacle to our survival. but that's simply not true! humans aren't separate from nature; we're just another part of it. even in a concrete jungle made by human and mechanical hands, nature surrounds us, we just have to know where to look.

sure, nature can be dangerous. there are plants, animals, and fungi that can easily kill us if we don't know what we're doing, if we don't respect their needs and desires. but humans survived for all of these millions of years by helping each other, by teaching each other, and by loving each other. even in the harshest conditions, we're incredibly resilient due to our eagerness to care for one another.

with tears still streaming down my face, I couldn't hold myself back from telling the people I care about how happy I was to know them and how much I love them, and how happy I was to be alive. for the first time in a long, long time, I felt genuine hope. I truly felt that no matter what happens, everything will turn out alright.

incidentally, I really wanted to go for a walk outside, but my girlfriend advised me not to, both because she was worried about my safety, and because there were too many people out there, and I was very obviously tripping. I think she made the right call this time, as I have no idea how a stranger would have reacted when I inevitably approached them with tears streaming down my face and told them how beautiful the world is. still, I believe that going for a walk through the park on shrooms some time would be really enjoyable. perhaps one day I can, when I have more experience and I'm in a less populated area.

in any case, I genuinely believe that these mushrooms were communicating with me. sure, we bought these from a company, meaning they were probably grown in a lab or some other artificial environment, but mushrooms just like these exist all over the world. they wanted to teach me to appreciate the natural environments they originated from. if I truly took their lesson to heart, if I researched and studied hard enough, if I learned how to reliably and consistently identify the organisms that exist in the world around me, it would be possible for me to go to a forest and safely identify mushrooms like these growing in the wild, where I could just pick them and eat them freely.

is it naive for me to believe that they intended to teach me that? maybe, but I don't think so. I would say I'm overall a skeptical person, but after this experience, I don't think it's fair for me to discount their intelligence. we may be different, but we're ultimately both organisms that exist on this earth together, and we all share a common ancestor. I'm no mycologist, but there are fungi out there that know how to take control of an ant's body and use it to spread their spores. I think it's fair to believe that they're intelligent enough to communicate with humans in their own way. that's why I think that golden teacher is the perfect name for them.

soon enough, the peak of my trip began to fade, and I stopped crying. I eventually got a headache, but I still felt wonderful. I ate some oreos and drank a glass of milk, then laid down for a while and processed my thoughts in silence.

after some time, I started to feel tired, and even a bit nauseous. I wanted to hold it in, but after an hour or so, it only grew stronger, so I rushed to the restroom and threw up. I hadn't been prepared for the nausea - I heard that it would usually only take effect about an hour into the trip, but mine didn't hit me until several hours after it had ended. although my stomach felt better, my head still hurt. despite being exhausted, I found myself unable to sleep. I stayed awake for hours. 2 am came to pass, then 3 am, then 4 am. at some point, I think I did fall asleep, as I remember having some dreams, but it was a very light sleep, and wasn't continuous at all. as I write this, I'm still very tired. I think I'm going to take melatonin tonight to help me sleep.

during my trip, I wanted to feel the euphoria I'd been feeling forever. but as it faded, I realized I don't need to. and in fact, I actually didn't want to; feeling so much joy was actually very overwhelming! it's difficult for me to convey just how strong the emotions I felt were, and having so many revelations in such a brief period of time was overly taxing on my brain. not to mention, throwing up and being unable to sleep was pretty unpleasant.

these mushrooms were never going to solve my problems or cure the emptiness I've felt inside, and it would be disrespectful toward them to ask them to do that. rather, they taught me how to obtain happiness for myself. they taught me to find value in the world around me, to pay attention to the nature that surrounds me in my day to day life, to be proactive and vulnerable with the people I care about, and to remember my place in the world. if I want to feel this joy, I have to put these lessons into practice, and work to make the world a better place for everyone. and I'm going to try my best do just that.

while I'd love to do this again (ideally with a bit more preparation), it's not something I can take for granted. I'm really glad I got to have this experience. I feel like it changed me for the better, and I want to do for the world what these mushrooms did for me. ❤️

#personal

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elvenbeard · 2 years ago

Text

Olives

Summary: V somehow survived a gig some deemed unsurviveable. Now all he needs to do is find his way back home - easy, right? (Post-Sun-Ending, Chapter 1/?, 4778 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V)

V pulled himself through the open hatch with all his might, groaning in pain, greeted by the blazing South California sun and a cloud of dust and sand stirred by the impact. He managed to only just find enough purchase on the hot, smooth metal to wriggle himself out of the escape pod and sat down at the rim of the hatch to catch his breath. His legs dangling into the capsule still, he once again made sure he had everything on him that he needed. An old-fashioned but hard to trace GPS tracking device in his pocket, the key to a car he still had to find, his sunglasses, his phone, his gun… Yes, that was it. Everything else would stay. His hand found the side of his chest, pressing down on his hurting ribs. Not everything had gone to plan. But things rarely did. In the grand scheme of things though… he’d pulled off the impossible. He laughed, almost desperately, closed his eyes and let his head fall back, feeling the suddenly so intense weight of his own body, gravity pulling him back down from the most insane high he’d felt in a long time.

Slowly and carefully, he pulled his legs up and swung around, slid down the side of the spacecraft, and landed more harshly than he would have liked on the rocky desert ground. He hissed, stumbling forwards, but managed to catch his balance only just. An annoying but familiar scratch made itself noticeable in his throat, maybe intensified by the sand surrounding him, and V pulled together all his willpower to suppress the urge to cough. He breathed slowly, deeply, and that alone hurt his ribs more than enough. He swallowed, even though his mouth was dry, then turned to walk around to the pod’s other side. He opened the cover of a small control panel and entered the code he had memorized to set up the self-destruct protocol. His fingers lingered on the “start” button for a moment longer as he once again went through all steps in his mind, making sure he’d thought of everything. He nodded to himself, then started the timer. Seven minutes. Enough to get himself into some distance from this thing, but hopefully not long enough for the SoCal military to find it. He was certain they were on high alert already. V put on his sunglasses, took out and turned on the GPS tracker, then started marching north.

The GPS signal showed that the car was a little over three miles away. Not too bad. Since he was not quite dressed in anything resembling hiking gear, he would still raise eyebrows if he ran into anyone, so he stayed away from the roads. The shuttle was already out of sight, had disappeared behind a hill, when the explosion tore through the silence of the desert. V was drenched in sweat, the sand he stirred up with each step sticking to his face and clothes, his head and eyes hurt, and his chest was sore. What he should have been thinking about was the next steps of the plan: how he’d get across the border, what to do if things went wrong, getting the data to Mr. B, getting rid of the car… but instead his thoughts revolved around how much he hated it that for safety reasons he couldn’t call Kerry yet. Tell him he was fine, all things considered. He hadn’t dared to promise it, but he’d come back in one piece. The thought to be finally able to tell him the whole story, explain why he’d been so distant lately, was the only thing that kept V going now.

In the distance, at first not recognizable as such in the heat haze, a gas station appeared. The GPS seemed to be leading him directly towards it. V was overcome with a sudden sense of dread. Again, for safety reasons (or so Mr. B had said) it had been better for him not to know where the getaway car would wait for him. V had expected it somewhere out there, maybe covered with a tarp, parked under an overhanging rock… not at a gas station, where not only the car would be hidden from view, but all kinds of undesirable people too. He slowed down just slightly, turned off the GPS tracker and slid it back into the pocket on his cargo pants. As he got closer, he saw that the windows of the shop were broken or boarded up, the road sign pointing to the station itself so scratched up by sand it was barely legible. There were no visible vehicles, but the walls of the building were, as he’d expected, covered in Raffen tags and symbols. The wind howled through the abandoned carcass, and V unholstered his Kenshin, just in case. He scanned the area for movement or other signs of life. There was a security camera above the entrance to the shop and another at the corner of the adjacent garage, but neither had power. The gas station seemed positively abandoned. Just in case he ducked as best as he managed to with his bruised ribs, peering around the backside of the building. If the Raffen Shiv used this as a hideout or meeting place, they weren’t here currently. Or ideally, Mr. B’s people on this side of the border had taken care of them before placing the car.

Still careful, but slightly more at ease, V made his way to the back entrance of the garage. The door was unlocked, the interior dark. His optics adjusted to the low light conditions quickly, but he still took off his sunglasses to look around. Dust and more dust covered the old tools and rusty machines this former repair shop still stored. At the heart of the room waited his ticket back home. A light blue Archer Quartz, old, but kept in good shape. V couldn’t help but chuckle. It looked a lot like his first car that he’d parted with not long after accepting the job at Arasaka. It wasn’t exactly the same, a newer model than his, but still. His heart sunk though when he remembered who had picked and placed the car here, who’d been playing mind games just like this with him for the past three months. V walked around the car, scanned it for any unwanted modifications, hard- or software that shouldn’t be there. Trackers, traps, anything… but it appeared clean. Before getting into the car, he carefully and slowly opened the garage gate, the area out front still quiet and abandoned. Only then he dared to unlock the driver’s side door and got behind the steering wheel. He didn’t need to adjust much, and he was thankful for a sixpack of water bottles waiting for him on the passenger seat. Without losing any more time he turned on the engine and set out.

The dusty desert highway had seen better days. The first road sign V came across was so covered in graffiti it was barely legible. He only just could make out “Night City – 29 miles”. At least he vaguely knew where he was now. Not long after the sign a couple of armored Militech SUVs breezed past him, heading south. He was sure to know where they were going and surprised it had taken them so long – but sometimes even V was granted some luck it seemed.

This little convoy remained the only other vehicles he encountered all the way up to the border station. His heartbeat sped up at the sight of Night City’s neon lights in the distance, gleaming bright even in the daytime. The line at the crossing was short, and V joined the queue like anyone else just passing through would, winding the window down as it was his turn.

“Good day,” the border patrol officer said, “Got anything to declare?”

“No, sir,” V said as friendly as he managed.

“What’s the purpose of your visit?”

“Comin’ home, visited family in L.A.,” he lied through his smile.

The soldier looked over his car briefly, but V knew this was routine. He had nothing to worry about yet.

“How long were you gone?”

“Two weeks,” V said, having memorized all important dates of his fake family trip to a T.

The officer looked something up on the data pad he was holding, taking a little too long for V’s taste, but he was good at not showing his growing nervousness. That was probably the most valuable skill his time with Counterintel had taught him. After a solid minute the soldier finally looked up from his datapad, turned it around and held it out to V.

“Please scan your SID-chip, sir, then we can proceed,” he said. V did as he was told, placing his thumb on the screen until a blip and green popup said the scan had completed.

“Thank you… Mr. McFarley?” the soldier said as he looked at the datapad, “Like the senator?”

“You wouldn’t believe how often I hear that,” V played his part, “Not related by blood or marriage.”

“I see…”

He tapped around on his screen a bit more, looking over the edge of the pad at V occasionally, who always just smiled and nodded back at him.

“Are you alright, sir?” the soldier then suddenly asked, taking V off guard.

“I am, yes?” he said after a moment of hesitation, his throbbing ribs and head saying otherwise.

“Just making sure. No offense, but you look a bit pale,” the soldier said.

“Just tired from the long drive,” V said, adjusting his sunglasses. Then, finally, the soldier stepped to the side.

“Everything in order,” he announced, lowering his datapad, “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, have a good day,” V nodded and sighed in relief as he left the shadow of the checkpoint, no obstacles between him and Night City anymore now.

He breezed past the Biotechnica protein farms on the left, the solar power station on the right. So many memories flooded his mind it made him dizzy briefly. It felt like all this had happened in a different lifetime – and well, in a way it had.

V pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping his eyes on the road as best as he could as he finally turned it back on. Immediately he was flooded with missed calls and messages. It took less than ten seconds before he received a new incoming call, caller ID obscured, voice garbled as he picked up almost automatically.

“If someone could’ve done this, it was you,” Mr. B said, V recognizing his voice even through the distortion by now.

V had all manners of replies ready at the tip of his tongue as he finally crossed over the city limits and entered Santo Domingo. How one of their first conversations had been about V being a disappointment to him for example. He swallowed down his anger and took a right turn, first heading to the drop-off point for the car.

“I guess you don’t want me to send you the data right now, right?” he then asked.

“Yes, too insecure,” Mr. B said, “When can we meet in person?”

V wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“What about right after I dropped the car off?” he suggested, suppressing a cough, “I can be at The Afterlife in 30 minutes.”

“No, not there,” was the reply, and V’s palms grew sweaty, “Too many curious eyes. And I don’t want to crash the ‘welcome back’ party they’ll surely throw you?”

V scoffed. As if.

“Alright, have it your way then,” V said, adding ‘as always’ in his head, “Where and when?”

He pulled into the parking lot of an old auto repair shop, parked his car in a row of others that waited for ��repairs”, and turned the engine off. He put the key behind the sun visor, grabbed his stuff and the two last remaining water bottles, then exited the car.

“Your penthouse, in an hour?” Mr. B then suggested.

“Absolutely not,” V snapped, not hiding his anger this time, “You can keep doin’ that kinda shit with the Peralezes and the likes, but I swear - …”

“I was joking,” Mr. B said calmly, “Besides… what would you do to stop us?”

V slammed the door of the car shut and started walking, leaving the premises of the repair shop without looking back.

“Where. And when,” V repeated.

A brief pause of crackling static on the other end of the line.

“The North Oak Columbarium, in 30 minutes?”

V sighed. He would rather not. But it was not like he had a choice.

“Meet you there,” he said before hanging up.

His own car was parked in an alley a few blocks away. As he marched on, he pulled up his contacts. He checked the time, 5.32 p.m. – could be that he was busy, at the studio or another appointment, a few had been lined up this week… but V decided to try and give Kerry a call anyway. It rang a couple of times, and his heart skipped a beat at the sound of Kerry’s voice, but it was just the mailbox after all.

“Hey, seems like ya missed me. Leave a message, I’ll call ya back later.”

“Hey, um…” V started out slowly, “Just wanted to let you know, I’m back. Got a few more errands to run, but I’ll be home in an hour or two, so…”

He scratched his head, grasping for words that could get across what he was trying to say, without making it sound too dramatic or causing Kerry to worry.

“There’s a bunch of stuff I gotta tell you that… I couldn’t really talk about ‘til now. Not ‘over-the-holo’ stuff so, I’ll see ya later. I hope you’re havin’ a good day!”

With that he hung up, half-regretting it immediately. I hope you’re havin’ a good day… how fucking lame. He had wanted to say how much he’d missed him, that he thought of him constantly, that he couldn’t wait to see him, hold him again, just how much he loved him. But the words just wouldn’t come out, and he didn’t know why.

“Fuckin’ hell…” V cursed under his breath, and this time he couldn’t prevent another onset of coughing from shaking his body. The pain in his chest was almost unbearable, for a moment he thought he would collapse right then and there on the sidewalk. There were certainly more pathetic ways people had died in Night City, but maybe he would make the top ten on the list.

“Breathe, breathe…” he repeated over and over in his head, maybe he even said it out loud. Sometimes he couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. Living with Johnny in his head for over two months had left its mark in many ways. He’d been without his annoyingly charming remarks and unwanted but entertaining commentary for longer again now than he’d ever been with him. Yet it still felt like he’d left something behind that would remain a part of V for the rest of his life… however much of it was left. One thing was clear though, and Johnny would agree: he hadn’t come this far to go down without putting up one hell of a fight, at the very least.

He caught his breath again, bracing himself against a dirty brick wall, his other hand at his side, holding his ribs. He slowly stood up straight, took another few deep breaths, then continued his walk, a little slower than before but just as determined.

His V-Tech still parked where he had left it two days ago, as instructed. The driver’s side door swung open as V approached, and he got in carefully, putting what he had been carrying on the passenger seat.

“Let’s get this over with…” he said to himself as the engine sprung on and he turned to drive to North Oak.

On the way to the Columbarium V went through his mailbox, listening to all the voice and holo messages in chronological order. Incredible how much could accumulate over the course of less than 48 hours. He made a mental note of who to call back and when, who he needed to pay a visit sooner or later, too. Admittedly, he was surprised at how random some of the messages were, people checking in to make sure he was okay… as if they’d sensed what he had set out to do.

Then he got to Kerry’s missed calls, and his chest grew tight… they hadn’t been that long ago, from this morning, left probably before he headed out to the studio. V’s heart broke at how sad he looked, even if just briefly. He’d always been good at glossing over it. Sad about how little time they spent with each other, just the two of them… somewhere between the lines V could even read blame for being forgetful about things he’d promised to do and didn’t stick to. That one hurt the most.

“Don’t take this the wrong way…” Kerry said, but it was hard not to… even more so because he was right. V had been so swept up in preparations for this gig for the last weeks, and even before… The last time it had been just the two of them doing something together, nothing else coming up all day, had been almost a month ago, V realized.

The Columbarium came into sight, but almost automatically V’s eyes wandered to Kerry’s villa visible on the rolling hills beyond. He most likely wasn’t there, but briefly V was tempted to stand Mr. B up and drive home right away instead. It wouldn’t make any sense, obviously, and achieve nothing. So, he pulled over, eyes on his goal, and got out of the car.

He was early, but Mr. B usually was, too. Yet, when he took a quick look around the tall rows of niches, enjoying the cool shade and quiet, trying his best to be respectful about the people here to mourn their loved ones, he could not see him yet. V stopped at the center of the premises, turning back to the entrance, assuming he’d get a call directing him where to go and what to do, as usual. As long as that hadn’t happened yet though, he decided to pay an old friend a visit.

“Hey, Jackie,” he said quietly as he stopped in front of his niche. He hesitated, feeling silly to be talking to a pile of ashes that could neither hear him nor reply. But maybe that wasn’t the point.

“I know I don’t come by often. I’m tryin’ though. Maybe that counts for somethin’ in the grand scheme of things,” V said, then paused.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

He really didn’t. He took a deep breath, through his teeth, one hand at his side again.

“I still often think about our conversation back then. Before our big heist,” he said, “How you wished to die a legend, and how I kinda hoped it wouldn’t ever come to that, at least not yet… but I guess you got your wish granted, even if too soon. I didn’t know then if that’s what I would have wanted for myself, and honestly… I still don’t know if it’s what I want right now. Not for lack of trying.”

He paused for a moment upon this realization. Sometimes his situation felt so hopeless, so grim, only looking death in the eye still made him feel alive. Talking, walking, corpse he was… At least one thing was certain. After today, there was no way he’d end up being forgotten.

“You’re long gone, and I’m still standing, somehow, despite it all,” V continued, “I hope you’d be proud of how far I’ve come, ‘cause I sure as hell know you would have fought just as hard to make it here, had you been in my place. You’d probably be waiting at The Afterlife right now, disappointed as I walk in ‘cause even this crazy-ass gig didn’t kill me like it should’ve…”

V sighed and lowered his head.

“Maybe… I’m not done yet.”

His holo rang, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“See ya, Jackie,” he said, brushing along the edge of the niche before answering the call.

“Front third, turn left, the middle section,” the voice on the other side ordered before ending the call abruptly. V walked to the instructed area, recognizing it as the row where he once saw one of those glitching graffities. He no longer did. And he no longer believed Mr. B chose this spot at random, either. He awaited V there already, dressed in an all-black suit, fitting for the location. V was still covered in dust from head to toe, wore his combat boots, worn-out cargo pants, and a tactical vest over a tactical shirt. The hierarchy here, and who was the one to do the dirty work, was never clearer than in this moment.

“On time, as always. Perfect,” Mr. B said, intensely glowing blue eyes looking him up and down, “You look not nearly as roughed-up as I’d expected either.”

“Things rarely go 100% according to plan,” V said calmly, and Mr. B smiled coldly, fake almost.

“What matters is, the job is done, without raising alarms, and everything extracted you wanted,” he added.

Exhausted, physically and mentally, V didn’t want to engage in more small talk than was absolutely necessary. Small talk with Mr. B usually felt either like an interrogation, manipulation, or a mix of both.

“We’ll see about that,” Mr. B said, “Send me the data.”

“First,” V said sternly, “you tell me what happens next. ‘Cause you’ve been pretty damn elusive about just how exactly you’re gonna help me if I do this for you.”

Mr. B’s smile turned just slightly colder, sending a shiver down V’s spine.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked.

“Trust gets you stabbed in the back quicker than you can say ‘Ceasar’,” V replied.

Mr. B chuckled.

“Fine,” he said, “Would an address suffice for now?”

“Of what?” V asked.

His question was answered by a notification blip and a map with coordinates showing up on his interface. An inconspicuous looking building appeared, not too far from here actually, in the south of Charter Hill by the looks of it.

“One of our many bases of operation,” Mr. B explained, “A small, brand-new lab we own, completely legal, up to the newest standards, not linked to any major corporations. You will find no better place to treat injuries of the brain, and we specialize in restoring damaged or even destroyed nervous systems.”

“How convenient…” V said slowly, the map minimizing and disappearing out of his vision again.

“We care for the people we invest in,” Mr. B said, “And if the data you have for us turns out to have been a good investment, we even more so have an interest to keep you around as long as possible.”

Or as long as I’m still profitable, V thought, but stayed silent.

“I am a man of my word, V,” Mr. B said after a short pause, “Are you one of yours?”

He wasn’t so sure of that himself anymore. But at least it used to be what V prided himself with, that he finished what he started, and that he kept his promises.

“Of course,” he said, feeling like he stepped right into the trap laid out for him, but tried not to let it show. He opened a secure communications channel to send the Crystal Palace client data to Mr. B.

“Much appreciated,” was the sly answer as the transfer was completed, “We will analyze the data and contact you in a few days about the next steps. Time, we tackle your little problem properly.”

“I’ll wait for your call,” V said briefly and with that Mr. B nodded, turned around, and disappeared around the corner. V lingered a moment longer, not even wanting to think about what they’d do with some of the world’s elite’s data, only glad that Kerry hadn’t been up there just yet. He still didn’t know if he wanted to tell him this part of the story, because he was so excited about the chance to play at the Crystal Palace one day, and V didn’t want to taint the idea to him.

He slowly walked back to the Columbarium’s entrance area, then got into his car. Despite craving nothing more right now than a long shower, V decided not to head back to Little China right away. Even if Kerry had already taken care of it, V was gonna go and get him his nasty olives. He’d shower him in them for the rest of his life if it meant it wasn’t too late yet to fix what he’d broken about their relationship recently. He turned the car around and drove back to Santo Domingo, stopping by Caliente’s to grab two cups of coffee to go. Then he headed to a nearby convenience store, picking up the biggest jar of olives they had on shelf, as well as some popcorn and a bottle of Bolshevik vodka.

Then finally it was time to drive home, the sun already setting. V sipped his coffee, hoping it would help soothe his still burning headache at least somewhat, but nothing seemed to help at this stage apart from trying to sleep it off. It wasn’t quite as bad as it had been with Johnny at times, but it still felt like the attacks were getting more frequent and worse the more time went on. It would have been the smarter choice probably to pull over and call Del for the rest of the trip, but V was all the way through Heywood already. Waiting for the cab to get here would take forever in the rush hour traffic. To distract himself from the pain he decided to try and give Kerry another call.

“Hey, seems like ya missed me. Leave a message, I’ll call ya back later.”

“Hey back at ya. Again,” V said, feeling a little more at ease now than during the last call, “Just wanted to say, I’m almost home now, just driving through Corpo Plaza. I’ve… been thinkin’ about you a lot, about us. I finally had a moment to listen to your messages from earlier today, too...”

He paused briefly, the endless ocean of neon lights breezing by not helping with his headache.

“I love you, Kerry, I hope you know that. ‘Cause I know I’ve been bad at showing it lately. So, I guess… I’ll see you soon!”

He hung up, then tried to call Rogue, but she was also busy, and he only reached her mailbox.

“Hey, I’m back. Guess you’ll have to deal with me a little while longer,” he said, “But I’ll give you a little break at least, take a bit of a breather. Depending on how things with the client progress, I might not be at my best for a while anyway. But we’ll see. Given how well things are running at the moment you probably won’t even notice I’m not there for a week or two. Just so you know… in case I don’t show up as regularly for a while.”

Not that Rogue would worry much if he went MIA for a couple of days, but he’d still rather tell her. Just as he hung up this call, he noticed a missed call from Kerry. Perfect timing.

V stopped his car at the last red stoplight before he would have reached the parking garage, pondering for a moment whether to call him back right away or to do it as soon as he was home. Maybe Kerry was there already anyway.

The decision was abruptly made for him as somewhere around the corner tires screeched, shots were fired, and police sirens began to blare. A blazing red sportscar covered in Tyger Claws imagery shot out of a side street, one ganger hanging out of the passenger side window firing a machine gun at the NCPD squad car giving chase. They were going way too fast to do anything about the sudden obstacle in the shape of V’s car appearing in front of them, still parked at the stoplight.

There were many pathetic ways to die in Night City. Being the victim of a car crash you didn’t even cause was surely among the top three on the list, especially right after pulling off the craziest heist a single merc had ever successfully completed. That was the last thought that went through V’s head as he braced himself for the impact.

(sorry for ending on such a cliffhanger... it's my specialty :D this is not a final version just yet probably, but I really wanted to share the angst... will put it up on ao3 when I'm 100% happy, maybe with some art or VP to go along with it)

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#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk fanfiction #cp2077 fanfic #cp2077 #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry x v #kerry eurodyne #mr. blue eyes #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #sorry this got loooong #I've been writing all day and chapter 2 is almost done-ish too xD #love is stored in the olive jar

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