#FEEL FREE TO WAIT AND NOT VOTE YET

[bubaboos]

it's time everyone. part two in honour of worlds 2023/24... last time we banned bolero. let's choose another one

(these are mostly suggestions you've left in the tags during part 1!)

[fastandcarlos]

Since Day One : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: since the very beginning you’ve been by lando’s side supporting his career

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 3,850 others

landonorris: goodbye karting, thank you for everything. looking forward to getting into the world of formula racing next year ❤️

382 comments

username1: can’t believe you’re moving on from karting, big things are coming!

ynusername: so proud of you, even if I’m gutted not to be riding around in a go kart every week from now on 💔

landonorris: @/ynusername you haven’t seen nothing yet, just wait for those f1 hot laps 😘

username2: only a matter of time until we see you line up on that f1 grid now ���️

charles_leclerc: end of a karting era, but hopefully many more races for us to come!

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc we’ll both be on that podium one day…I’m sure of it!!

username3: so deserving of the new things coming your way ❤️

georgerussell63: hopefully be lining up on the grid with you very soon 🤞🏻

olivernorris1: congrats bro, looking forward to the free trips to some more hot destinations 😂☀️

landonorris: @/olivernorris1 and here i was thinking you were flying out to support me…

username4: still gonna be your biggest fan!!

maxverstappen1: about time you gave someone else a go at winning a karting race 😂

username5: can’t wait to see where you go from here 🫶🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 13,968 others

landonorris: buzzing to get my first formula 2 win, thanks to the whole team for all your support so far this season. hopefully the first of many 💪🏻🏆

1,840 comments

ynusername: you’re incredible, my race winner 🥺

landonorris: @/ynusername can’t wait to show this trophy off to you when I get home 💞

username6: first win of many gotta good feeling for this season ❤️

charles_leclerc: turns out you’re just as good at karting as you are formula 2 😂👏🏻

username7: so deserved lando, hope you celebrate hard tonight!

georgerussell63: yes lando!! a jolly good race indeed my friend 🏆

username8: a white race suit and champagne, someone in the team needs speaking to 🤦🏻‍♀️

alex_albon: someone get zak brown on speed dial asap 📞

landonorris: @/alex_albon let’s not get too excited, it’s only one race…so far!

alex_albon: @/landonorris the first of many my friend!

username9: if driver of the day was a thing, you’d get my vote 🤩

username10: that smile is my new favourite thing in the world!!

adam_norris_pure_electric: good job son, so proud of you back over here at home 🤍

username11: can’t wait to see how many more wins you get this year 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and 58,402 others

landonorris: first couple of weeks with mclaren done, safe to say carlando is off to a good start 😝🧡

9,497 comments

username12: carlando are officially my otp btw 🧡🫶🏻

charles_leclerc: it’s a miracle you two get anything done when you’re in the same room!

username13: i can already tell this pairing is gonna be trouble!!

alex_albon: looks like you don’t need me anymore 😭

landonorris: @/alex_albon team rookies forever 💯

username14: whoever decided that these two should be on the same team deserves a pay rise immediately 😂

mclaren: admin thanks you both for constantly giving her such a headache 🧡

username15: have you ever met two more well paired drivers in your life??

ynusername: *currently googling what to do when you feel like the third wheel in your own relationship…*

carlossainz55: @/ynusername he’s mine now 😘

landonorris: @/ynusername ignore him, I promise you’re still my number one 💞

username16: forever refreshing my feed in search of carlando content 🥺

username17: can we get these two to sign lifetime contracts at all!?

zbrownceo: you’ve been awesome so far and ik you’ll continue to be too!

username18: i love how carlos us taken lando completely under his wing in f1 😭

carlossainz55: couldn’t imagine my life without you sweetie ❤️

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 stop otherwise you’ll make yn jealous again!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 28,048 others

ynusername: finally managed to get to my first f1 race, so proud to see you do your thing in person lan 💞

2,960 comments

landonorris: so glad you were able to come and cheer me on, you’re definitely a good luck charm now 🫶🏻

username19: you looked stunning in the paddock, lando is one lucky guy!!

alex_albon: you’re not allowed to leave it so long next time, I didn’t realise how much i missed you!!

carmenmmundt: so happy to finally meet you, hopefully see you again soon girlie!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt who cares what the boys say, we’re double dating asap 🫶🏻

username20: you two are just beyond stunning together 🤩

charles_leclerc: i still remember you being one of a handful of people watching us in karts all those years ago 💭

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc so proud of all you guys 💕

username21: silently praying for a yn appearance at every race from here on in 🙏🏻

carlossainz55: still secretly think you were coming to spy on me 👀

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 gotta find a way to stop you stealing my boyfriend somehow…

username22: from karting to f1, she’s really been by his side through it all!

mclaren: thank you for helping us keep lando under control for the weekend - admin 🧡

username23: hope you had the best time yn 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 174,494 others

landonorris: first podium baby 🏆🥳

thank you to everyone in austria and back at the mtc for all your hard work. fans, friends, family and yn for always cheering me on and reminding me that i can do this 💕🧡

38,508 comments

username24: I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud in my entire life 🥺

alex_albon: the little go karter on an f1 podium 🤧

username25: idk how you did it but that was incredible, fastest lap too!!

carlossainz55: I feel like a proud father rn 🥺

username26: thank you for reminding us that mclaren can achieve podiums again 🧡

maxverstappen1: gutted I couldn’t be up there with you today

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 next time we’ll be up there together like the old days!

mclaren: everyone at mclaren is so proud of you lando 🧡🏎️

username27: only got the podium thanks to a time penalty anyway 🙄

username28: @/username27 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

ynusername: have I mentioned yet just how proud I am of you?? 💞

username29: love how he gave a special mention to yn too 🥺

zbrownceo: the perfect stepping stone to get you to p1, I know we can do it 💪🏻

username30: hope you get used to being up on that podium, you’re gonna be there often!

georgerussell63: super drive buddy!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 38,497 others

ynusername: turns out monaco is the life after all, a whole new world but absolutely loving it 🥺

4,969 comments

username31: just goes to show just how much lando means to you remember!

landonorris: thank you for making such a huge sacrifice for me, i promise we’ll have the best time living out here together 😘

ynusername: @/landonorris anything to help make your dreams come true ✨

username32: look at them out here living their best lives

carmenmmundt: our next coffee date is when??? ☕️

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I’m omw to you rn 🏃🏻‍♀️

alexandrasaintmleux: @/ynusername @/carmenmmundt make that three 🫶🏻

username33: the muscles in that first photo, yn you can’t do that to us without warning…

georgerussell63: thank you for finally giving me some proper competition playing padel 🏸

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 I did try to warn you that lando was rubbish

username34: yn always happy to satisfy the boyfriend lando fans ✨

adam_norris_pure_electric: we are so relieved that you’re out there with him 😂

ynusername: @/adam_norris_pure_electric this apartment would not still be standing without me 😂

username35: I cannot stress how obsessed I am with these two!!

maxverstappen1: I love that you’re now on our doorstep so I can constantly annoy you 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 42,950 others

ynusername: first holiday in a while with you 🛥️🏝️

7,597 comments

carlossainz55: missing my two favourite people right now

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 thank you honorary third wheel 😘

username36: no one deserves this rest more than you two 💞

danielricciardo: it’s not a true holiday cause I’m not there 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris: @/danielricciardo that’s what makes it such a good holiday

username37: summer break looks good on you two!!

maxverstappen1: so glad you guys are enjoying that place!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 thanks for such a great reccomendation! ☺️

username38: remember when everyone was obsessed with these two as karting teens, now look at them… 😭

oscarpiastri: shame he doesn’t look like he’s missing me at all 💔

iamrebeccad: wishing that I could look as good as you rn 🥺

username39: it’s not fair how good two people can look…

landonorris: the best time away with you 💕

username40: forever refreshing my feed for another gorgeous update of these two

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 2,968,573 others

landonorris: the moment I’ve dreamt of for so many years, officially a race winner! thank you to every single person who has contributed to my career over the years, this one’s for you 🏎️🧡🏆

458,360 comments

username41: apologies to my neighbours for screaming so loud the entire street could hear

ynusername: wish I could’ve been there more than anything, can’t wait to celebrate with you when you’re home 💞

landonorris: @/ynusername I still felt you here cheering me on 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: awesome drive, the only way for us right now is up

↗️

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri we’re chasing them down brother 💪🏻

carlossainz55: I always knew this moment would come one day for you 👏🏻

username42: asking for a friend…is it acceptable to cry when it’s not even you on the podium???

danielricciardo: about damn time 😂 super race today brother!!

username43: words can’t begin to explain how proud I am to be your fan lando norris

alex_albon: who’d have thought those two kids almost a decade ago would end up here 🥺

username44: so proud of how far you’ve come since the beginning lando!

zbrownceo: could barely contain myself on the pit lane, congratulations lando 🧡

charles_leclerc: such an honour to be up there with you 🏎️

username45: it’s been a long time coming, hopefully the platform for many more wins now ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 60,597 others

ynusername: second time’s the charm! so proud of you lando and so proud to be there this time cheering you on with all your family. you’re so deserving of this moment…I couldn’t be any prouder of you ✨💕

14,974 comments

landonorris: I could never have got this far without you, thank you for always loving me angel since day one 🧡

georgerussell63: he’s not stopped telling people all weekend how happy he is to have you here btw 😂

username46: how do you two still manage to melt my heart like this!?

lilyzneimer: so happy for lan 👏🏻 and so happy you got to be there to see him win this time too!!

lilymhe: you looked so cute during those celebrations bby

username47: only yn and cisca would stand out in that crowd to surprise him 😂

oscarpiastri: at least I didn’t have to listen to him mope about how much he wanted you there this time

username48: I love the relationship yn has with all his family 🥺

mclaren: admin would also like to reiterate what oscar had to say too 😂

username49: I can’t begin to imagine how excited lando must’ve been to have his whole family there

danielricciardo: was it ever in doubt??

ynusername: @/danielricciardo that’s cause he learnt from the best 😉

username50: you must be so proud yn seeing his hard work firsthand ☺️

carlossainz55: so good to see you and catch up under such awesome circumstances 🧡

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[httpsserene]

could i maybe request some super soft holiday smut with George? Like it's the summer brake and they are in their Bad on a Boat and the sun shines on them and they just woak up clinging to each other?

Feel free to change some things if you like, that's just the kinda vibe i would like it to be so just warm and slow and loving you know?

XO

𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐭 | 𝐠𝐫. 𝟔𝟑

summary: a salt-bathed, sun-drenched, yacht trip seduces you into slow and sensual sex underneath the sunbeams.

content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. yacht sex. tender. passionate, slow, and sensual. semi-public sex (middle of the ocean). belgium dsq. intimacy. fingering. vaginal sex. unprotected sex (don’t do that). no dialogue.

pairing: george russell x fem!black!reader

word count: 1.3k words.

from, serene: perfect timing for summer holiday smut (this was requested eight months ago 💀) feel like it might be what the george girlies need after the unfortunate outcome in belgium :( kinda proud of this one, feels like i found my groove again !!! title is from aaliyah's rock the boat enjoy, loves xxx (oh! check out the upcoming chapters link i added! it's my wip list, updated regularly with what's coming next!)

IF YOU HAVEN'T VOTED ON WHAT I SHOULD DO FOR MY 3K CELEBRATION CLICK HERE TO SUBMIT YOUR VOTE !!!

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

The rocking of the yacht is felt minimally. The sound of the waves lapping against the boat accompanies an occasional snuffle from George’s napping form, splayed out comfortably on his front, head resting on your abdomen. 

The British man tired himself out riding on a jet ski, swimming in the depths of the azure sea, and making sure you’re watching all of his ‘cool’ flips off the bow and swim platform of the vessel. You convinced him to eat lunch on an enforced (by you) sunscreen-reapplication break— and while he was waiting for the meal to settle, he snuck his way onto your lounger, nuzzling along your hip, asking you to read your book aloud to him.

You softly narrated the story to George, one hand turning the pages while the other played with his damp hair, your body tensing when cool drops of seawater dripped from his strands onto your stomach, shocking your bronzed skin. The mix of your tender speech, his ocean exhaustion, and the caress of the sun brought sleep to him easily. 

This morning on the water is exactly what he needed to clear his mind. You wouldn’t let the weight of his disqualification in Belgium burden his mind any longer. There’s no better way to process emotion than in the middle of the ocean on a yacht, far away from the obsessive media and pitying Mercedes team. The only person sharing his space is you (and the few staff members below deck). 

The book was set aside not long after he fell asleep, you were keen to rest your eyes and listen to the low tunes filtering through the speakers. Time slips effortlessly and you find yourself awakened by George stirring. The sunbeams have strengthened at noon and you’re aware that your next days will be spent massaging aloe vera into the Brit’s reddened skin. Yet, the flushed burn stretching across George’s tanned back isn’t a pressing issue for him. 

He presses his lips to the skin of your hip, just above the tie of your bikini. You hum, pulling your knees upwards and letting them fall slightly to the sides, leaving George ample room to lay between your legs. You feel the wetness of his tongue appear as he traces along the hemline of your bottoms, teeth scraping the jut of your hipbones occasionally, the slight ache encouraging you to arch into his grasp.

His hands grip tightly at your thighs, the umber flesh spilling between his fingers alluringly. The sight entrances him and his lips drift to love on your inner thighs, teeth threatening to bite into the plush skin. Your quiet moans at the attention harmonize with the calm waves; the bruising kisses have the fabric of your swim bottom darkening with arousal. George releases a hand to tug at the ties of your bikini and pulls the strings loose. The cloth covering your cunt limpens and is tugged away smoothly.

George murmurs lowly, his fingers parting your folds and keeping you open. You’re sure your hole is fluttering at him, the heated skin of your cheeks disguised as a product of the sun and not George’s stare. He spreads your wetness along your vulva leisurely, pausing to flick your clit lightly, humming reassuringly as your hips buck upwards into the pleasurable sensation.

He toys at your entrance with two fingers, watching your cunt try to drag him within. He teases, pushing inside briefly, eyes flickering upwards to watch your mouth part at the gentle stretch before he pulls out to stroke along your folds. George repeats the action until you whimper needily, ceasing his torment to give you his fingers. The awaited full stretch lights up your spine, his digits curling against your walls deliciously. He lifts upwards, intertwining his lips with yours. The brush of lips matches the sensual stroking of his fingers; it’s slow and syrupy, tongues skimming together in a relaxed dance.

He withdraws, dragging his pulsing length from the confines of his swim shorts. He strokes his cock loosely, choking at the slickened friction, lowering to thrust his cock along your cunt, the reddened tip parting your moistened folds. You see George shudder over you, bottom lip bitten by his teeth as he hisses through the stimulation.

You tangle your hand in his sundried locks as he sinks inside of you, breathy moans leaking into the open air. The British man shakes when his hips meet yours, stilling to stifle your shared cries into each other's mouths. The pressure of his cock can’t be forgotten but the ache of fullness combined with the embrace of his lips distracts you from the lack of movement after the initial thrust. You’re not sure how much time passes as you and George become absorbed in the kiss but you’re only brought back to the present when his hips slowly start to roll against yours.

You gasp into his mouth, eyes fluttering open to meet his. They’re hazy, clouded with lust and desperation. You stare, captivated by the sight of his blissed expression, his blushing cheeks, and his ocean-colored irises swallowed by enlarged pupils. The sway of your hips has George melting, the sound of his choked whimpers complementing your breathy babbles. 

His strokes remain deep, tantric, and toe-curling. The surrounding air dampens with the heat and moisture radiating from your activities, thin layers of sweat beading on your skin, and the taste of salt is fresh on your lips. Air is forced from your lungs as George abuses your sweet spot, hands slipping along his back in search of stability. Your chest arches upwards as you struggle to hold a firm grip on his back with the sheen of perspiration coating him. Scrambling, your nails bite into the muscle of his shoulder and lower back forcing a sharp groan from George. His hips stutter at the sting cutting through his freshly sunburnt skin before resuming the mind-numbing drive of his length within you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, the knot in your navel tightening, toes curling as you near your peak. The British man’s thrusts sharpen, pounding directly into your most sensitive areas as he feels your walls flutter and clench around him sporadically, cock throbbing as he pushes you over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over you, the sound rushing through your ears as your eyes roll back with the force of your orgasm. George fucks you through it with shallow thrusts, his moans increasing to such a high volume you can hear it through your clogged ears. He pulls out and fists his swollen tip to completion, shooting streaks of white into his hand and across your flexed abdomen. 

While you lay boneless on the lounge chair, both of your chests heave in unison, breaths slowly calming in the comedown. The British man reaches a shaky hand for the towel he threw aside earlier after drying off, wiping his cooling cum off your complexion and from between his fingers before he picks up your swim bottoms resting on the floor. With quivering fingers, he adjusts his shorts and does up your bikini after a couple of failed attempts at fastening the ties. 

George squeezes to rest beside you on the lounge chair, an arm firmly reaching around to pull you to rest on him, tucking your head underneath his neck. You press light kisses along the column of his throat, the stretch of his collarbones, and the expanse of his pecs, smiling to yourself when you feel him nuzzle into your hair. He shifts for a better angle, his brow tightening as the raw skin of his back is aggravated from scraping against the seat, the tension disappearing slowly as he brushes his lips on your cheek.

You make a mental note to grab the aloe vera to address his sunburn. Until George convinces you to dip in the open ocean to cool off and wash away any lingering remnants, you’ll bask in the afterglow under the balmy shining sun.

© httpsserene 2024

[genderqueerpositivity]

I absolutely cannot wait for this election cycle to be over because genuinely what the fuck. I keep drawing parallels to the 2016 election because there are just so many similarities, but what I haven't said much about yet are the ways in which things are worse.

Having the majority of people I know or randomly encounter be Trump supporting Republicans is absolutely wild now, because sometimes they will just drop the most unhinged comments you could possibly imagine into casual conversation as if they're simply commenting that the grass is green or the weather is nice today, and every time it gives me this bizarre sensation like I am somehow the one living in a different plane of reality.

The Democrats are intentionally bringing undocumented people into the country and giving them drivers licenses so they can vote in the upcoming November election, and unless Donald Trump wins and is allowed to carry out his mass deportation plan the United States will never again have a Republican Christian president.

Joe Biden has been using the US military to release chemicals into the atmosphere for the past four years which have the ability to affect the weather in order to trick the American public into believing that climate change is real.

The attack on Donald Trump at his rally was rally a plot enacted by The Deep State, a secret group of powerful liberals who are running the country behind the scenes, and they don't want Trump to win in November because he is too powerful for them to control.

Joe Biden was replaced by a secret identical body double when he allegedly had Covid several weeks ago, and the double is the one who really dropped out of the election, gives all of his speeches, and does all of his interviews now for him.

Those are just the ones I heard last week.

And the reactions I get when contradicting these wild takes range from rage to mocking to a bizarre persecution complex. In 2016 and even in 2020 I was able to have a lot of productive conversations with many people who disagreed with me greatly on major issues, and that is largely not happening this time. If I dare to disagree, they turn to anger, attack me personally, or cry immediately that I'm denying their right to free speech. When bringing up my actual lived experiences with certain issues, I've been dismissed immediately as emotional and brainwashed. There is no room for discourse or discussion anymore, it has broken down.

I know that we've been going out of our way to call them weird, but we're not really talking about fringe weirdo conspiracy theorists anymore, we're talking about your neighbors and my coworkers and your aunt and the guy behind me in line at Aldi. These people are everywhere, they're 100% serious about believing in this shit, and they're voting Republican in November come hell or high water, truth be goddamed.

You know, the lives of millions and millions of women, LGBTQ+ people, undocumented people, and other marginalized peoples are at stake in this election but it feels increasingly like reality is at stake too.

"Alternative facts" sounded outrageous seven years ago...now they've made it a way of life. Unless we can correct course, and rapidly, it isn't going to get better.

[cirqosmos]

yandere simulator; xo (only if you say yes). yjw

interactive roleplaying game: where instead of a yandere winning over your heart, you win theirs. by getting them to say 'yes', only then you will unlock the key to their heart where psychotic love resides.

currently playing. . . xo (only if you say yes)

warning: yandere, slight profanity, some grammar errors (i'm doing my best to study it >_<)

runtime: 3k.

director's cut, — jungwon boo u never fail to prove me that you're legit my muse in writing </3 this is just a fun fun interactive yandere game i randomly thought of, whatever you choose (majority of the votes) decides what happens to you with yandere jungwon :3

character visual: jw

"i'm sorry, but no. you're just not my type—"

you slammed yourself your face on your pillow, burying it so tight it sent you to heaven itself. however you'd rather die this way than pressing the 'continue' button to read the yandere's next words for his darling—which is you.

but you're not even his darling yet, much less being his close friend. maybe just a friend from school?

yeah, definitely.

well, as a twenty-nine years old office lady with her average monotonous schedule with the same routine over and over again for the past eight years, nearing her thirties yet never being able to find a qualified partner that fits her overly high standards—you're left with a game titled 'xo (only if you say yes) you've found somehow on the devil's hours; a game that was immensely difficult to pass, where you would do your best to win over a yandere's heart.

the game's description was too daring, almost too challenging, you are afraid to admit.

"wanna have your sweet affectionate yandere fawning all over you? no worries! however, as the old sayings goes; without efforts, you may never achieve anything—nothing is free in this world. therefore, why don't you sweat a little, get upset a little, cry a little, break a little—like your beloved yandere would once they fall for you? do your very best to get them to say yes to your love confession just once, and all of them—they will give to you.

blood, sweat, and tears; all of them shall be yours as long as you can make them say yes."

© 2024. all rights reserved xo, (only if you say yes)

and now you found yourself on the final level spending atleast, or disappointingly a huge sum of bucks on the game with currency of gems just to speed up the process, with your eyes bearing a newfound dark eyebags as an extra package of consequences.

you swore by your life and on god himself that you're only playing this for fun out of pure boredom and insomnia, however as you thumb through the game's introduction of yandere as it's dominant themes paired with a comprehensive summary of them; you questioned yourself with sheer shock as to why you've never find an ounce of existence about yanderes for the past eighteen years of your life despite being chronically online.

since yanderes are the exact definition of your overly high standards for men, ever since. no wonder you've never found a men like this before, turns out they only exists in fiction—you scoffed at yourself, filled with disbelief as you roll your eyes.

but! who cares if they don't exist in real life? they're now on the tips of your finger, waiting earnestly and eagerly for your love. a giggle so obnoxious escapes your lips, you feel like you are once a schoolgirl again, but without the experiences of one, actually.

but again who cares!

the game flashes a new pop-up, telling you the next step—choose your yandere character to play with. it shows you a list of seven yanderes illustrated on their respective cards, clad in coquettish-sort-of highschool uniforms; pink ties, beige vest over a dark blue shirt and pants paired with their set of flirty gestures as your thumb glided through each character—reading their descriptions; interests & dislikes, hobbies & talents, a little trivia about them, and of course—their strengths and weaknesses.

surprisingly, they had a range of informations so complete it felt like they were real humans. the developers did quite a spectacular job on it, don't they? and even the fact of how their weaknesses remains the same although with differences in how they would act on it or how far they would go; obsession, possession, and damn psychotic—willing to kill for you.

how romantic. . . in a psychotic way, of course. you hummed unconsciously, letting out a sigh after at the disappointing fact of how you still find it strangely attractive in your late twenties.

are you really that of a single pringle? pfft!

as you giddily spend your time trying to choose one of all characters. they're just all too good, looking too good for your heart to take. but one particular character catches your eye, intrigues you even with those pair of eyes—goosebumps ran down your spine as you could feel him gazing back at you.

like at you, literally.

or was it just the game's tactic to make the players like you fall deeper? hm, probably! it definitely was, unless a random ghost must've possessed your phone but that can't be right?

right?! you yelled the same word out loud, snapping your head around your room—looking for any potential jumpscares, but to your relief—thank god. now you can play your little new obsession in peace!

snapping your head back at your phone, eyes lit up in immense stars as you've made up your mind, heart thumping loudly as you scanned his unique features—tapping the "play with me?" soft pink button below the name 'yang jungwon' aka the mischievous leader kitty of the group.

in yandere academy, this group is called enhypen—and they have a bunch of fangirls, and it's not even a 'bunch', the size of their fandom is almost half of the female population in the academy and even outside of its territories—there is this ridiculously long line of female students from other academies. a feat that cannot be totally underestimated, and it's not even surprising as they are packed with dazzling visuals, and a set of numerous talents of their own.

they catch hearts everywhere, left and right, back and forth with their grand entrance to the school. each of them has their own separate fandoms too, and yang jungwon's taekwondo club practices are always filled with hearty eyes paired nerve-wracking screams that his coach spends half an hour yeeting them out.

"huh?" you let that out a tad bit too loud, almost exaggerated even. the game surely didn't turn out the way you thought, as you had the initial assumption that the yandere you chose already fell for you, and that you just had to spend those lovey-dovey levels roleplaying with them with a one or a few more predetermined routes to choose from.

the rules was pretty simple; try to get his heart—make him fall for you in the set duration of thirty days. in other words, there are ninety-nine percent possibility that he might reject your confession out of pure lack of interest. get that three row of bars; friendship, love, and yandereness as high as you can because if you were unable to do so then there will be no second chances of playing the yandere of your choice without paying an excessive sum of bucks, so you just had to do it once and make sure to do it right.

quite a challenging mission, huh? no it really is challenging but you were determined as your nostrils flared out a puff of air, straightening your posture as

the adorable motion logo of the game plays out, loading in a bunch of texts meant to help you along the way;

'yandere has each of their own unique love languages, pay attention!'

'little misfortunes are often a blessing in disguise, sometimes redirecting you away from what we call a 'disaster.'

'completing side tasks will increase your yandere's love bar by two percent!'

it soon pops up a bunch of pinky hearts and sparkling stars after all those introductions and guides before switching to a scene of him, jungwon—standing before you, and as expected, you were instructed to approach him.

the location in his taekwondo club, all while sandwiched in between his die-hard fangirls with those screams that you had to turn down your volume to zero. talk about in starting a cool first impression—well never mind, two choices popped up on your screen.

choice one: wait for him after his taekwondo practices (20% of working out)

choice two: act like a damsel in distress (5% of working out)

"uh," your thumb hovered over the two choices, is this a trap? act like a damsel in distress—what in the actual fuck? who would even do that in 2024?! you begrudgingly tapped on the first choice, and the scene switches to a pop up message:

try again, jungwon left a couple minutes earlier for a dinner with jay!

[ retry? ] [ exit? ]

your eyebrow twitches, what the fuck? just like that . . .? there's even barely a progress and you just have to fucking retry?

and jokes on you as your jaw dropped on the floor with the new set of choices presented before you, four choices—actually.

"what is this?!" you yelled so loud you immediately covered your mouth, peeking outside the window.

day three.

the love bar ain't going the fuck up, it's still there glaring at your face with it's zero percent. well that's fine, atleast the friendship bar goes up a tad bit—by five percent. a progress is still a progress!

but the game is just so greedy! you can't skip a day? sure then! but you only had three gems a day, one is to play the major mission, second to power up your aesthetics, skills, and status. third, to complete your side tasks such as running errands for your home or completing school assignments!

that even takes a whole day to refill back up, and it's not even enough with these thirty days you got and with this slow ass rate of getting jungwon to fall for you! you threw your phone on the bed, huffing like a madman—contemplating whether to spend a few bucks on it or just drop the game altogether. surely, you can't be that too attached with a yandere character, right?

right?!

jokes on you, your fingers find itself on the payment method against your will. ultimately cashing out a few bucks from your bank account with a single tear trailing down from your eye, all of this would be complete waste of money and effort if you fail to reign over his heart.

you let out an almost animalistic growl—filled with downright spite, actually. is this game even for real?! the choices they gave you are almost like deliberately setting you up for failure, definitely is! you were almost sure that is—to the point of contacting the developers themselves but you held yourself in sheer strength of self-control at last-minute, at the last digit of contacting them.

"it's okay, pampering myself isn't a sin." you pat yourself on the back, comforting yourself with a huge pout reaching the floor. it's okay! with a newfound determination, you're sure you'll make it!

day ten.

hopeless! utterly hopeless even the god of romance and cupid's themselves would laugh at you. you would, too. due to the fact that you went as far as googling on how to 'win over a man's heart" or "list of dialogues and actions that makes a man gain interest in you".

one of them even says food, that it is the way to a man's heart. but how the heck are you even going to feed a fictional game character? it would be easier if there was a food dialogue!

right, when is your character—or the game itself deciding to send a heart shaped box of chocolates? that would atleast give you a few percent to his love bar!

throwing yourself at your bed like a ragdoll, groaning and kicking your feet in the air. why do you even bother? for what? your search history is so hopelessly embarrassing, and even more embarrassing was when your co-worker had their eyes ogling at it. your mistake for letting your phone screen lit up for everyone to see, thank god she was the only one. patting you on the back that it was okay, and that she too had her fair share of struggles on fictional men.

truly a fellow comrade, you almost shed a tear.

day seventeen.

is this damn game trying to get on your nerves?

deciding to show a new bunch of rules that they didn't bother to show at the first day���set of rules you mustn't do while proceeding with the act of winning a yandere's heart, that is—you were not to skip a single day of playing—in other words, not spending a time with your yandere as in the game's words itself; they will be lonely and might end up throwing tantrums—loathing you for doing so, ignoring you for a short period or even longer depending on how long you were gone, thus risking the amount of effort you've spent so far down the drain.

and you actually skipped not one but two days because of your hectic work piling up after a fellow coworker's taking a sick leave for a week. . . and that was also after finally getting his love bar up to two percent and friendship bar reaching whopping sixteen percent.

yeah, it's sadly a 'whopping' one for you.

and now it's back at zero, with his friendship bar down to crashing down to nine digit and just as exactly the rules stated; every choice, dialogues, and routes you picked ended up him ignoring you with that furrowed eyebrows and slight pout on his lips, or responding to you in a flat out cold tone.

he's not even in love with you, so what are you even throwing a tantrum for?! you screamed that question at the animated game character on your phone's screen.

day twenty-four.

nah, this won't do. it definitely won't so why are you still trying? you bit your lower lip as you look for cheats, hacks, and tutorials online, praying to atleast find some miracle that could miraculously rocket you to ninety percent of love bar atleast!

since all you have left is six days.

you've spent an embarrassing amount of hours and days on this shit, even more dedicated and focused than you do back in your days as a student. you were so sure by this point that you could actually become a relationship therapist with all these accumulated knowledge!

day thirty.

eyebrows and lips twitching, it is.

level thirty, it is—ending on quite a horrible note, or actually, a total doomsday glaring back at you with all your nonexistent experience combined into a recipe with the title "never been in a relationship before".

a helpless laughter escapes your throat, of course—how can you catch a yandere's heart? much less make him your lover? you've never even caught a human's interest over the past twenty years of your life!

how cruel, how utterly cruel! god truly has it's ways of playing jokes. tears, laughter, giggles, sweat, money and effort—all gone down the drain.

all because of that one sentence ending it all, each word literally jumping out from his animated lips in a bold ass pink letters,

"i'm sorry but i can't accept it. i only see you as a friend, (name). i hope you could understand. . i'm sorry, but no—you're just not my type."

huh?! seriously?! a compelling urge, or a really tremendous one so colossal you can break your table into two parts—all that set of routes you've chosen so far with a careful decision and thoughts just for him to say this? just for the love bar to be at total ten percent?

jungwon, how could you? only ten percent? there's no hint of romantic affections found in his eyes or gestures, his friendship bar only by forty percent (a low score of only being his 'school' friend), heck you didn't even trigger his yandereness. like look at him! his yandere bar is at zero looming percent!

a trace of the pink love bar and red yandere bar nowhere to be seen, this is a pure scam! a love scam in the form of a game! meant to target single old ladies like you, fucking hell!

out of pure rage and disappointment, you slammed your phone on the bed—burying your face on your pillows as you let out a long drawn out, muffled scream. downright mad at yourself for even being so triggered by this whole shit, and at the fact of you acting like teenage girl imbued with hormonal changes,

"can't even get a fictional men to fall for me, i'm totally screwed for life!—"

you're so going to uninstall that shitty game, there's no point in playing anyways when you can't have the same character of your choice.

a notification 'tings' up, interrupting your bursts of tantrums—you look over at your phone with the game still up, a big pink heart-shaped bubble pops up on the screen—slowly draining into a pathetic colour of white, ultimately shredding it apart into a broken heart, mocking at your misery.

however the next message pulls outs a gasp from your throat, appearing in its usual glossy pink heart but a little redder at the bottom.

💌 2:09AM

hey there, our precious darling!

we totally get how you feel, there's no need to fret anymore! here we present to you an exclusive package where you will be given a final chance to retry for jungwon! this is a one in a lifetime chance for you—our dear player!

tempting almost, yet you're definitely not falling for that anymore.

and it's all free, let yourself fall deeper and deeper into this world of obsession. you can't really give up that quickly, right?

yanderes never knows when to give up, anyways ♡

free? there's nothing free in this world, even the game itself stated the same words. you've wasted your time, money, and effort on this dumb game and now it's giving a package that is exclusive only for you?

what dirty trick is this game trying to pull off once again?

© pieroulette on tumblr , 2024.

[thesirencult]

PAC READING : WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?

1---2

3---4

PILE 1

The Tower, The Fool

This is someone you would never expect to have feelings for you. You view them as distant, private an cold towards you and others. There is something magnetic to them and, at times, they let their cold façade go. Then, you get to experience a different side of them. They may have played with children in front of you or taken care of an elderly person, assisting them to cross the street. This person loves animals and has a soft spot for them. This reminds me of a strong, tall man who build a sanctuary for chihuahuas after his wife left him. Now he takes care of them and encourages other men to break the stereotype and adopt a smaller dog.

So, this person could also be tall and either lanky or lean-muscular. Others see them as intimidating and may try to avoid them in social situations (like coworkers not inviting them out for a drink after work).

I don't think they'll express themselves. They feel very ashamed of their feelings for you and believe that you see them as "not good enough". This has nothing to do with the way you treat them and has everything to do about their own perception of themselves.

They are very innocent at heart and get hurt when people exclude them. This tells me that you must have treated them like your "chihuahua". You are the one who encourages them and offers help or a few kind words. They love your kind and sweet nature but it's hard for them to show their true emotions. You will notice them get shy and anxious around you, like a little kid. Give them a chance by letting them get closer to you.

PILE 2

Judgement, The Magician, 5 Of Wands

This person is very fair and just. They will love every single inch of you and they won't shy away from telling you that. You see yourself as "not being good enough" and the person who has a crush on you will pick up on how you feel immediately. They will try to get you to see your beauty and will get sad when you talk bad about yourself. They just don't understand how someone as perfect and beautiful as you doesn't realise their own strength and beauty.

This person is a master manifestor. They just know how to alchemize energy and change their physical reality. They will see that you have this ability too and they will admire how you are trying to forge your own path. They have probably manifested you into their lives and they'll idolize you a lot.

If there is an age gap (5+), this person will try to hold back and act as a mentor towards you but, they are very competitive with others and possessive. Their feelings will shine through when they sense someone else trying to get with you. You'll notice their absurd behaviour, call them out and they will just kiss you.

"I'll show you why I'm acting this way." And then smooch 💋.

PILE 3

Queen Of Cups, 7 Of Pentacles, 5 Of Pentacles

Okey-dokey! My sweet Pile 3, if you are not into girls or feminines, I would advise you to choose another pile. Otherwise, if you choose to stay, this energy could resonate with your personal journey towards love and abundance.

I'm seeing a very sweet soul waiting for you. This energy is very light and free-flowing. You may not have met this person yet, because of divine timing. I'm getting that when you meet them it will be "love at first sight". You'll catch them doing something random, like picking up a dumbbell at the gym or petting a dog, or even voting (?).

This "exchange" from afar will drive you crazy cause you will know nothing about this person and you'll think you will never see them again. I see that fate has other plans for you.

This feminine is your future spouse and she is very into personal development at the moment. They will be preoccupied with finances and they are trying to clear up "abundance blocks".

At first, they will seem reserved and preoccupied with other things. You'll exchange a few looks and sparks will be flying, so this is a case of a reciprocated crush.

They are quite happy with being by themselves and working on their coins and foundations for their future. I bet you'll hear them talk about that and you'll think "Baby don't worry, I'm your future 💋."

Slowly you'll start talking and I hope you make the next step otherwise they'll never ever let you in.

But, after you get closer to them, you'll realize that they are a very deep and wise person and not just sunny all the time. Actually you'll think of them as darker and lunar. You will love their passion and mysterious disposition. Be their fearless protector and their rock to climb up to and watch the sunrise.

PILE 4

The Hierophant, 9 Of Cups, Queen Of Pentacles

Right now you are going through a "level up" phase. I don't even know why you are waisting your time here. Lol. You are quite independent, fierce and unstoppable. You are also trying to manifest someone like you.

The person who will soon come towards and confess their crush on you is not someone overly "hard". They are quite dreamy and soft. They like ice-cream and long walks. They will take you on romantic dates and worry that you don't like the scenery because you are not talking that much.

This person sees you as a boos b*tch. They admire you and have put you in a pedestal. I'm hearing "Let me service you Queen.". They like "ice-cream" ! Oh my! This person really wants you and they would jump through hoops to get to you.

They'll pass all your tests with flying colours and you will keep wondering how they are such a good match for you. Let them feel like you are in control and they'll submit to you.

[flipppyflopp]

“No sleeping in, not even on my birthday. There’s too much to get done to waste the day in bed.” 🎉✨

Happy birthday to my twst oc, Arlen Nox! I decided to do my spin on the new birthday card theme for Arlen even though they haven’t released a Diasomnia character yet, so Arlen might not match Silver and the others when they come out. Trey and Floyd were big inspirations for Arlen’s card from his to his pajamas. Specifically for his pajamas I wanted to incorporate Kingdom Hearts elements since Arlen’s main inspiration is Riku, so I tied in some dream eater references.

If you swipe you can see how Arlen spent part of his birthday as well as what presents he received from his friends. Below you can read Arlen’s birthday vignette written in a similar style to the new birthday vignettes, which guest stars the character voted as Arlen’s duo partner on Instagram…Silver! I hope you all enjoy and if you have any questions about Arlen, feel free to leave them in my inbox! ✨

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: Alright, I should be able to take these back to my room before track practice.

Arlen: Wait a second…who’s that lying on the ground up ahead? Are they hurt?

Arlen: Oh, it’s just Silver. I don’t have time to waste…but I hate to leave him in case he’s in a hurry to get somewhere too.

Arlen: Silver? Wake up, Silver. Now’s not the time to be napping. Silver! SILVER!

Silver: Huh? What? Oh, Arlen, it’s you.

Arlen: Yeah, sorry about yelling in your ear. You were sleeping pretty soundly.

Silver: Sorry for the trouble I caused. I appreciate you taking the time to wake me up.

Arlen: It’s fine. I was just on my way back from the post office and saw you laying there on the side of the path.

Silver: Post office? Not many students go there with all the technology available today.

Arlen: Unfortunately, I’m not the best with technology, so I go there quite frequently. Today, I was picking up a card my stepparents sent me.

Silver: A card? Were they congratulating you about your performance in the recent track meet?

Arlen: No, they sent me a birthday card.

Silver: Birthday? I’m terribly sorry if I missed it. Happy-

Arlen: Slow down, Silver, my birthday’s not until tomorrow.

Silver: Really? I apologize for getting ahead of myself.

Arlen: Quit apologizing, birthdays aren’t a big deal anyways. Just another day of the year.

Silver: Oh? Are you not a fan of big celebrations on your birthday?

Arlen: Not really? I don’t know, I just don’t understand the need to get so worked up about them. All you’re doing is getting older, what’s there to really celebrate?

Silver: Hmm. I suppose people just like to celebrate that you lived another year, uplifting your growth and the memories you made in that short span of time.

Arlen: Sounds about right, I guess. The best part’s getting to eat cake.

Silver: Really? I thought you weren’t a fan of sweets?

Arlen: Just ice cream, it’s way too sugary for my tastes. I enjoy cakes and pies just fine.

Silver: That explains Malleus’s initial reaction to you…

Arlen: Huh?

Silver: It’s nothing, just…hold on a moment, I just got a text from Sebek.

Silver: Oh no, I was asleep longer than I thought. I must be getting to the Equestrian Club. Farewell, Arlen!

Arlen: Bye, Silver.

Arlen: Guess I’d better hurry on myself. Chatting with Silver’s nice, but I can’t be late to practice or else I’ll have to run extra laps.

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: There’s nothing like a hot shower after practice.

Arlen: Speaking of practice, I need to write down my new personal best. Can’t believe I managed to shave off four seconds today. Maybe it’s some early birthday luck.

Arlen: The next track meet isn’t for another month, so I’ve got plenty of time to cut down more time off my personal best. I wish I could shave off some more time from our relay record, it could definitely use some improvement.

Arlen: Competing individually comes easier to me than competing as a group. When it’s just me, I only have to worry about myself. When I’m competing with others, I not only worry about myself, but I have to worry about the other guys as well. It’s a lot of trusting one another, which doesn’t come easily…especially in a school like Night Raven College.

Arlen: Luckily, Jack and Deuce handle their share of the relay just fine. Although, I wonder if by becoming closer it would shave off time for our relay….hmmm. Maybe I’ll treat them to dinner tomorrow after practice, they’d enjoy that.

*Bzzt*

Arlen: My phone? Who could that be? Oh, Soren wants to FaceTime. Sure for just a couple minutes.

Soren: ARLEN! What took you so long? It took you like three rings instead of two! What-

Arlen: Slow down, Soren. I just got back from showering after practice. I’m a bit sore today.

Soren: Oh, I see! Must be trying to beat my time from the track meet last week.

Arlen: Yeah right, you’re the one trying to catch up to me. Speaking of which, you’re going to have to work harder, I just shaved off four more seconds.

Soren: WAIT WHAT?! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! Kai won’t believe me when I tell him tomorrow.

Arlen: I could always send you a picture of my time as proof.

Soren: Ha ha, very funny. Laugh it up while you can, you’ll be eating my dust soon enough.

Arlen: As if.

Soren: Oh let me tell you what happened in class today! So I was sitting with Neige…

*Time Passes*

Soren: I couldn’t believe it when Chenya came out of alchemy lab with bright green hands.

Arlen: Well that’s what you get when you mix aloe and pixie dust.

*Knock*

Lilia: Arlen, it’s past lights out. Off to bed with you.

Arlen: My bad!

Arlen: Sorry, Soren, we’ll have to talk later.

Soren: That’s fine. But before you go, I’ve got one last thing to say to you.

Arlen: What?

Soren: Happy birthday, Arlen!

*Click*

Arlen: Huh? Is it really-

Arlen: We talked for that long!? So that’s why he kept flying through topics, just to get to midnight.

Arlen: Wait…

Arlen: Why was Lilia doing lights out checks so late!? What was he doing?!

Arlen: No use wasting time thinking about that. I’ve got to get to bed so I can get up early.

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: Time to start the day. It’s nice waking up early because the dorm bathroom is completely empty. Most people don’t get up at the crack of dawn like I do. Sometimes I run into Sebek or Malleus, which is quite the jump scare as Idia would say.

Arlen: Alright, quick shower then it’s time to head out.

Arlen: I don’t spend too much time on my appearance. Just combing my hair, brushing my teeth, the usual. No point spending extra time when it’ll just get messy from the wind later.

Arlen: Some guys go all out with makeup and hair products, but that’s just not my thing. Just some lotion will do just fine. Dry skin gets on my last nerve.

Arlen: Alright, next on my morning routine. Time to go get the feed from my room. I like being outside early, it’s a good way to clear my head. I feed the animals around the dorm while I’m at, might as well since I’m already out.

Arlen: I can see the birds waiting up in the rafters of the courtyard. They always wait up there, never getting close till I put the feed out…I hope they’ll grow to like me some day. Animals just don’t seem to like me, I get it though.

Arlen: Hmm?

Arlen: A little sparrow is hopping right in front of me? Want something to eat little guy?

Arlen: Huh? Another bird’s come down? A rabbit too? I haven’t even put down any food yet!?

???: Getting along with the animals, Arlen?

Arlen: Silver! That explains why the animals got closer than normal.

Silver: I’m sure they’re just finally coming around to you.

Arlen: As if.

Silver: You just gotta have more confidence in yourself. The animals can tell you’re nervous. Here.

Arlen: Huh? What are you doing with that bird? Silver, wait-

Silver: Just put your hand out like so and the bird will have a nice place to sit. Perfect.

Arlen: Silver, take it back before I hurt-

Silver: You’re fine, just breathe. See? It’s okay.

Arlen: …

Silver: Arlen? I’m sorry if I rushed you into-

Arlen: So what are you doing up so early? Doesn’t a sleepyhead like you snooze through the morning.

Silver: Usually, yes, but I had something important this morning.

Arlen: Really?

Silver: Arlen, happy birthday.

Arlen: Huh? Ha…ha ha ha!

Silver: What’s so funny?

Arlen: Something important? It’s just my birthday. You said that like it was the secret to saving the world from darkness or something.

Silver: It’s important to me. I wanted you to know your birthday mattered to me, so much so I wanted to be the first to say it.

Arlen: Really? That’s…really kind of you. Thank you, Silver.

Silver: You’re welcome, Arlen. I hope you don’t think that’s all I prepared, I also made some coffee cake in the kitchen for breakfast.

Arlen: Pulling out all the stops aren’t you.

Silver: Of course for a friend like you.

[superblysubpar]

dad!steve harrington x mom!you

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: steve's baby girl isn't really a baby anymore

3,911 words

warnings: please see the How Sweet It Is masterlist for general warnings about this AU | minor spicy smutty mentions | minor alcohol mention | shitty first boyfriends, with minor discussion of feeling pressured in a relationship | overall an angsty yet fluffy story

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the story!

Autumn, 2004

There’s something burnt inside of the microwave, some vegetables they refuse to eat past their prime in the bottom drawer of the fridge. There’s a lovely drawing on your living room wall, the only evidence left behind a purple and orange crayon which leads you to believe it was Annie, Luke having dared her to it no doubt though.

The dishes aren’t done, the laundry isn’t folded, the bills need to be paid, but for once, you really don’t care.

Because Annie and Luke are with The Munson’s at the movie theater then staying over, Julie is sleeping over at a friend’s house. Olivia is with Zoe and her aunts, Grace is at her first ever boy girl Halloween party then also sleeping over somewhere and Steve isn’t even having a melt down. And your eldest, Nora, for once, isn’t with her boyfriend, but having a much needed girl’s night with her best friend, so Steve’s in a fantastic mood.

You’re not going to take the night or the mood for granted.

He’s refilling your wine and pulling you onto his lap once the movie starts, the movie you got to pick and one that has sex, and weapons, and swearing and you get to watch from any spot on the couch you want. You get to take up space and eat junk food you tell them they can’t.

Except, it turns out, you and Steve don’t really care about the movie or any of that stuff.

Steve’s got his hands running down your back, like each little dip in your spine is meant just for his fingers. His warm breath flows over your throat as you throw your head back, his kiss finds a spot on your neck and he can’t wait to mark you up like he used to. Can’t wait to make out with you for hours with no interruptions except his stupid lungs needing air. He’s gonna make you come on his fingers, and his tongue and-

Ring! Ring! Rinnnngggg-

“Don’t,” you gasp, eyelids fluttering and blurring your view of the ceiling when Steve grinds his hips up into yours, “Don’t you dare answer that.”

His lips graze your collarbone. “Answer what?”

Your laugh makes him smile against your jaw before he’s catching your head with both hands and pulling your lips down to meet his.

Hey, you’ve reached The Harrington’s! We’re sorry we missed your call, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. Have a great day!

Steve hums into your mouth, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he whispers, “Your phone voice is so cute.”

Your lips skim over his, back and forth as you shake your head. Narrowed eyes meet his sparkling ones. There’s little lines next to his eyes that almost obscure the freckles, proof of the years and laughter, direct results of letting you steal his sunglasses forever.

Beeep!

Uh, hey guys…

Both of your chests inflate, shared held breaths at the sound of Eddie Munson’s worried tone.

Steve looks over at the machine, your forehead knocks against his temple and his arms wrap around your waist as you both exhale and wait for Eddie to tell you the bad news.

A kid threw up, cried, something, and that meant they were coming back home.

It’s worse. It’s so much worse.

So, um, listen, I know, I know okay, it’s your first free night, but I just wanted to call and let you know…well jesus liv, how do you want me to tell them? If it were my kid I’d-

Steve looks at you and you both get up at the same time, worried expressions and racing towards the phone.

Christ, okay, we have Nora, and we’re bringing her home…I’ll let her tell you what happened. But uh-

Steve’s hand reaches the receiver first and his jaw is sharp as he bites out, “What?”

You’re unable to hear Eddie, but it cannot be good from the look on Steve’s face. Cannot be good from the way he grits out a ‘thanks’ and slams the phone down, almost knocking the whole thing right off the little table.

His hands are in his hair and he’s pacing, so it’s definitely not good.

Steve’s glasses slide down the slope of his nose while brown and slightly wavy hair speckled with gray gets trapped in his fingers as he yanks and ruffles it and blows out his breath.

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” you pull at his wrists when he makes a third spin back towards you and get him to stop. “What’s going on? What did Eddie say?”

Steve’s arms go limp in your hold, hanging next to his plaid pajama pants as he stares at you. Eyes a little more green when they get all teary like they are now.

“Fuck, she’s…”

“What? She’s what?” You panic when he trails off, when he starts crying. You grab the front of his shirt, “Steve, tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“She’s fine, she’s,” he sniffles and presses his fingers under his glasses which he then yanks off and flings onto the kitchen counter. “God, I’m so fucking mad at her. She’s fine. She’s drunk, or was drunk, I don’t know. She was at a party or something. Eddie said they drove past her crying next to a pay phone.”

Your shoulders relax, knowing your daughter is at least safe, and your best friends found her. You’ll worry about the state she’s arriving in when she gets here.

Steve leans on the kitchen counter, his head hung between his shoulders and your palm soothes up and down his back, wary of your tone when you start to speak again.

“Okay, let’s not jump to conclusions, alright? She didn’t…she didn’t lie, necessarily. Maybe she just went out with Lindsay for a bit…they’re always being invited to parties. It’s this time of year. And…and we can’t be mad at her for drinking Steve. How many times did we-“

Steve shakes his head and turns to you, hand thrown out towards the front door as his voice rises. “You don’t think that’s the exact problem here, Kate?! I was fucking seventeen not that long ago and I know what the hell she’s doing with Charlie, I mean, christ, babe, we didn’t have her that much older than she is now!“

“Hey, don’t yell at me! I’m not the enemy here!” You shout right back.

You’re glaring at each other, his hands on his hips and yours crossed over your chest and there isn’t a sign of either of you backing down any time soon. But something in his eyes shifts, his chin wobbles a little and you raise your shoulders and clear your throat.

Steve breaks first, falling back against the countertop again as he cups his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“I know,” you whisper, your socked foot nudges his, “It’s gonna be fine, okay? Cause we do this together, right?”

He doesn’t look up at you, but his arm reaches towards you and he’s pulling you into his chest, nestled between his spread legs. He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you, tightly.

Neither of you moves until headlights slice through the sheer curtains of your little bay window in the breakfast nook next to you.

Steve sighs, deep and full of too much stress and he doesn’t let you go till he hears the sound of two car doors.

There’s a light knock on the door, then the creak of it opening, Eddie’s voice calls out, “Guys?”

You’re the first to go assess, and your shoulders tighten when you see your daughter, cowering behind Eddie.

Smudged make up and a top you’ve never seen, a skirt too short for your liking cause it reminds you an awful lot of one you wore that the boys really liked. You can smell the vodka from here and your eyes sting from the tears forcing their way to your lashes when Steve’s breath sucks in behind you with a pained breath of her name.

“Thanks, Eddie,” you clear your throat and nod to him with as much of a smile as you can muster, “Are Annie and Luke…”

Eddie waves a hand and hooks his thumb over his shoulder, “They’re at home hopped up on something Liv told them all was zombie blood but is actually just mountain dew and vanilla ice cream and in front of Hocus Pocus on Disney as we speak.”

Your arms curl around yourself and you smile a little more at that, but it falls as soon as your daughter makes eye contact with you. It’s like every ounce of calm has vanished from you, because now you know she’s here and safe, you can be mad.

Really mad.

Eddie nods once, and pats Nora’s shoulder, gently nudging her forward.

“Thanks Uncle Eddie,” she murmurs.

He kisses her temple and starts to close the door, “Anytime kid. I mean, not anytime. Don’t…anyways…”

He raises his eyebrows at the two of you and the door clicks closed.

Nora covers her chest with her arms and her chin wobbles an awful lot like Steve’s and her mouth parts but you stop her.

“Go to your room, Nora, I don’t…I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

Tears slip past Nora’s lashes at the same time as yours and she shakes her head. “You’re not gonna even let me explain? It’s not what it-“

Your hands fly to your temples, rubbing them as you close your eyes and laugh, “What? It’s not what it looks like?” Eyes open to find hers looking shattered as you keep going, “Cause it looks like my daughter lied to us about what she was doing tonight. If I call Lindsay’s mom, will she even know you were supposed to be there or,” you laugh again, colder, and not at all finding the situation funny, and hold up your hand, “Let me guess, her mom thinks you’re both here and we thought you were there, right? But really you were with Charlie at a party.”

“Mom,” Nora sobs, her hands fall at her sides, “I’m sorry, but-“

“Oh, I’m not done,” your hands land on your hips, adopting your husband’s signature pose along with his hot head, “Cause you know what else it looks like? It looks like you’re wearing clothes I’ve never seen before and I sure as hell didn’t buy for you. And that’s just looks, cause I can smell the vodka from here and-“

“You’re not being fair!” Nora shouts at you, black mascara runs down her cheeks that she swipes at half-heartedly, “I didn’t-“

“I don’t want to hear it young lady!” Your foot practically stomps just like her’s used to, her own tantrums held in this very entryway flashing before your eyes. “What’s not fair is lying like this. You don’t do this Nora. We don’t do this! When have we ever told you couldn’t go to a party? That we wouldn’t pick you up, no questions asked? That you couldn’t see Charlie? That-“

“Right!” Nora screams, her hands thrown up in the air and at you, “Your perfect daughter didn’t do something right, for once in her life! I fucked up, okay? I’m sorry!”

She sobs and you shake your head and start to walk away, “I can’t do this.”

“Mom,” her voice breaks and she sniffles as you head into the kitchen, “Daddy-“

“Nora…just…clean up and go to bed. Please. We’ll talk in the morning.” Steve’s voice is unnaturally calm and you hate him for it.

Your shoulders hunch with the sound of each step of your daughter’s feet on the stairs, your head lands heavy in your hands as your elbows press to the counter-top.

There’s a clink, a pop of a cork, liquid sloshing, and then the distinct grate of glass across the counter top, red wine sits under your face as Steve sighs.

“Well, that went super well I think. A plus parenting, mom.”

Your hands drop from holding your head so you can glare at him.

“Yeah? Thanks for the back up, dad.”

Steve shrugs, he leans against the stove and squints at you, his lips have the nerve to twitch a little like he’s fighting a smile.

“Oh, sorry, was I supposed to talk too? You didn’t really take a breath to let anyone else chime in, hon.”

Your body lifts as does the wine glass to your lips as you throw a hand towards the staircase. After a large swallow of the wine, you accuse, “What is your deal right now? Five minutes ago you were-“

Steve takes a step towards you and grabs the wine glass from you, then he holds your cheeks in both of his hands.

“I’m trying to do that thing you’re always telling me to do, that you normally do so well. Take a deep breath. Relax. Listen. It’s not always what it seems.”

He raises his eyebrows at you and your head falls forward again, though this time in defeat, in embarrassment.

Your forehead is caught by his lips, a kiss pressed there then the top of your head before he tilts you up to look at him again.

“I…” you sigh and look at the stairs, “I should go talk to her again. I should apologize.”

Steve shrugs and kisses you, soft and over too quickly.

“I think she needs some time to cool off too. You can talk in the morning, after you both relax.”

Your eyes narrow at him and his sparkle when you tease, “How many ways have you come up with to kill Charlie?”

“Twenty-seven.”

A laugh leaves you but it’s quick to cut into something that resembles a sob and a sigh, because it’s too real. He pulls you into a hug.

Both of you make no hint of moving anytime soon until Steve whispers, “Wanna start the movie over? We can actually watch it this time.”

Which is a nice thought, but in reality, you just curl up next to each other on the couch and neither one of you really sees the action past the glow of the screen.

You’re both acutely aware of the shower upstairs, the soft music of a stereo, the click of a lamp. Severely aware of the laundry piles addition of clothing reeking of alcohol. Counting down the hours till your daughter wakes up and you’ll try it all over again.

So it’s not a surprise when you fall asleep on the couch, bodies and brains too tired to make it through another hour of the film.

Steve stirs first, the click of the TV and the blue fuzzy screen turning dark startling him in his fitful sleep.

Your head is on the opposite end, legs tangled together with his and hogging the blanket. He tilts his head just make out a figure in the dark, one now quietly sneaking out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Steve holds his breath and stares at the ceiling, listening.

He hears the soft thunk of a drawer closing, the hum of the fridge, the swoosh of a burner and then nothing.

So when he rolls off of the couch as slowly and quietly as he can, and makes his own way to the kitchen, he freezes when he sees his baby girl leaning against the counter, stirring a pot on the stove, not really thinking through his actions and what he’d say when he got here.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispers, avoiding his gaze.

“You didn’t,” he lies. Steve sits at the counter on one of the stools, and lets his chin rest on his fist.

It’s quiet then. Quiet for a long time. Long enough for Nora to pull down two mugs and pour hot cocoa into them. Long enough for her to pass him one, then for both of them to take sips.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, what to do, until Nora opens the fridge and pulls out an apple. Until she pulls a knife from the wood block and starts slicing, the peel remaining intact as she spins the fruit and it furls down to the countertop.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks softly.

Nora looks up, surprised, at him, eyes that are so much his blinking right back at him behind wire rimmed glasses. Glasses he remembers telling her she could use to see for late night snacks when she didn’t want to wear them.

“Oh, um, no one,” Nora says quietly, then hesitates, “Well actually, I guess, in a way, mom?”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, lips twitching on one side.

Nora nods, smiling as she gets to the last spin of the fruit, and she hums. Steve watches her eyes get a little glassy, watches her chin wobble just likes yours before she admits, “Yeah. That movie? Sleepless in Seattle?”

Steve smiles at that and nods, exhaling a deep breath as Nora finishes the curl. He knows it well, it’s your favorite movie, and the reason one of his daughters has the name she does. Her fingers toy with the peel, voice tight as she keeps explaining since his silence is letting her.

“Mom was watching it a couple of month’s ago and she…there’s this scene. Where Annie is trying to peel an apple in one long curl and she’s listening to Sam talk about his wife, and love and mom can quote the whole thing. And…and…”

Nora swipes at her eyes as she looks at him, so hurt, so broken as she shrugs her shoulders and she whispers, “It wasn’t magic, dad.”

Steve swallows and he stands up, grabs his little girl as she falls into his arms. So small and only getting smaller and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Nora squeezes him as she sniffles into his chest. His daughter who’s somehow old enough to be crying about love and a guy who broke her heart while she drinks hot cocoa with bunnies on her feet and moons and stars on her pajamas.

“I thought he really cared about me, and when I said no, when I told him I didn’t…that it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to…he…he…”

Nora hiccups around her tears and Steve’s heart stops beating, his lungs stop working.

“He called me a tease,” she sobs into his chest, “He called me such terrible things. I thought…I thought he really loved me, dad.”

He’d kill this kid Charlie if it was the last thing he did.

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long time, just holds Nora until the front of his shirt isn’t getting freshly wet. So he whispers, “It’ll be magic, someday baby, and you’ll know, okay? It’ll just feel right. And screw that guy. I never liked him anyways.”

Nora laughs into his chest that swells at the sound and he curls her hair behind her ear when she smiles.

“But not until you’re, like, thirty.”

“Dad,” Nora sniffles, she shakes her head and hugs him again. Her voice grows tight again, “I’m sorry I lied about where I was. And I only had one drink. I smelled like that cause these guys spilled a bunch of punch everywhere and-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, kissing the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She hugs him tightly, then whispers, “Love you dad.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Another squeeze, and then she’s disappearing with her cocoa and apple up the stairs, and his tears finally fall.

And in the morning, when he’s done prepping for a quiet breakfast before all the other kids get home, he climbs the stairs two at a time on the way to wake you.

But Steve finds the bed you’d both finally made it to at around one in the morning empty, and as he walks down the hall, he slows, hearing your voice come from Nora’s room.

“You know we don’t expect you to be perfect, right? If your dad or I made you feel like you can’t mess up or…can’t be a kid, I’m so sorry baby. We rely on you so much with the younger kids and that’s not fair to you at all, is it?”

He watches from a distance, the two of you curled up on Nora’s bed. You sit up right against the headboard, your fingers run through her hair as she hugs you, curled around your waist and chest like she used to when she was little.

Steve doesn’t hear what Nora says but you laugh and run your hand up and down her spine.

He rests his head on the wall and watches you with so much love in his chest, he feels like he might burst. And that’s before Nora asks, “How’d you know?”

And you ask, “Know what, sweetie?”

“That dad was the one? That he was…that it was right?”

Steve smiles as you tilt your head up and blow out your breath.

“Gosh,” you laugh, “That movie kind of gets it, honey. It was a lot of little things. It’s still a lot of things. I fall in love with him for a new reason every single day. The way he always opens the car door for me, or let’s me have the last of the fries. How much he loves and cares about you guys. When he picks up pizza on the way home with flowers. When he yells at the TV when his team doesn’t make the right play. The way he looks at me when I’m telling a story or the way he says my name.”

“Like it’s got all the best letters in it?” Nora asks and you smile.

“Exactly. Even when he’s mad at me, it still sounds like…”

“Magic,” Nora whispers.

“Yeah,” you nod.

Steve raps his knuckles on the door when it’s quiet for awhile, and peeks his head in.

“There’s my girls, anyone want apple cinnamon pancakes?”

Nora shouts a yes and you laugh as she jumps out of her bed and races down the stairs like she used to what feels like a really long time ago.

When you leave her room and touch his arm as you pass, he pulls at your hips, spinning you until you gasp. He catches the sound with his mouth, lips strong and sure in their kiss and saying so much with so little.

“What…what was that for?” Your eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and your stomach fills with a million bouncy balls.

“No reason,” he kisses you again and leaves you standing there breathless, shouting down the stairs to Nora, “You better not be eating that raw batter young lady!”

And later, when the sink’s full of suds and soaking dishes and kids are opening the fridge only to look inside and complain and then open it again two minutes later, or the washing machine is making that weird clunking noise again and Steve’s shouting at one of the kids to get off of the other kid and you’re scrubbing at crayon on the wall, neither of you care.

You aren’t going to take it for granted.

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/6

since there were two of these and I'm late posting, I posted the poll separately, you can find it here

[morbethgames]

Halloween Special, Current Projects, New Patreon Content

I am so sorry about the radio silence as of late. Between the stuff earlier this week (yes, that stuff), dealing with deaths of people, and university; I've been very busy and mentally drained. However, the good news is, you can play the mini game of The Bureau, "Witchy Woman" right now! The link is at the bottom of this post! Eventually I'll integrate it into the main game, or put it out as potential free DLC or something, but for now there are no stats and it's not tied to choices from the base game.

Tonight is a special case. The MCT has been called in as a favor after finishing up our most recent case. A friend of Kris's reached out, and the local P.D. has let the MCT take the lead on this one. A house party in the beginning of October up in Maine has turned sour. A party-goer has been reported deceased.

We just finished a job, but in this line of work, there's always another case to solve. So here I am, approaching the residence with my team, about to find out exactly what happened on this cold, damp night.

Because it's not part of a bigger game or story, and the only pacing I had to worry about was that of the investigation, this is much more freeflow than other investigations in the main story. Go back and forth between the crime scene, the perimeter of the house, interrogations, and more! The more you discover evidence, the more new options will unlock in conversations, and you have an evidence log in the stats section that updates every time you find out something relevant to the case.

I'm only promoting this now, even though it's been done for a couple of weeks, because it was part of a Jam and I didn't think it would be fair if I got votes from a community built over a few years when others in the Jam would not have had that same benefit. I wanted it to be an even playing field, even if it meant holding out for a bit. So, I apologize for making you all wait.

There are still things I'd like to do for this game, things I'll end up adding, but it is at the very least ready to play. It's 40k words, so have at it!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Right, next up, something I'd like to announce. I'm working on a serialized fiction that I'm (hopefully) planning to turn into a book. The first 3 chapters are going to be posted for free, both here on my blog and on my Patreon, though not quite yet. Chapters after that will be released on Patreon for the people who pay the $5 tier.

I'll be honest, it has been extremely cathartic to go from writing an IF where the chapters are all pretty much the length of a book themselves, to writing an actual book where a chapter is about 4k words. It's a very nice breath of fresh air, and it by no means, entails that I will stop working on Bureau. In fact, it may even help speed up rate of production, funnily enough. Having something to keep my mind turning while having writer's block about a scene in the IF will help me constantly generate ideas, and that's really nice to think about.

A small college town is rocked by a horrific murder. In wake of the events, a couple of friends begin investigating this personal tragedy, determined to get to the bottom of what happened at the Scribe City college. The lesson is quickly thrust upon them that loss leads to pain, but pain is temporary, and loss can be forever. So what comes after the pain? They need to explore that journey together, and in the process, navigate the complicated things feelings that have started to bloom.

The book (serialized fiction for now) , called Love In Stasis, is going to be a 'WLW romance small town college murder mystery'. You will explore the relationships that these characters have and continue to form, and just how messy things get when tragedy sparks love. I have almost 25k words done for it, about six and a half chapters, and I'm going to try to get 50k words done with it by the end of the month. A writing challenge that's totally not tied to the name of any organizations.

If this works out, I could reward patrons with static fiction while not having to worry about providing everyone with constant things tied to the IF itself, and I could work on The Bureau at a pace I'm very comfortable with.

I'm still learning as a writer. I'm still learning new things I like, and how I like to produce content. All I know is that I like producing art in the form of writing, and I most certainly will not stop doing that anytime soon, and now that the Halloween Special is done, I will be getting back to the base game.

Which will start with a complete recoding of the gender variables. I've already started on that process, so no more multiple versions of each chapter. One version. One set of gender variables. Much more condensed coding and script. So, people out there who said that wasn't going to change, I just have to say what I'd said all along. My coding was indeed bad. However I will also say something else I've said all along. I do take criticism.

That being said I'm never using multi-replace and you can't make me. I like being able to read what I'm writing.

More to come in the near future.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

https://cogdemos.ink/play/viisbae/the-bureau-halloween-special-witchy-woman

Patreon Link

[spacebabesuki]

Begin Again (Hellcheer Christmas AU) ❄️

Word Count: 6k. Themes: Second chances, rekindled connections, stuck in a snowstorm. Format: One-shot Vibes: Christmas magic and nostalgia

Playlist here!

This one got the most votes from everyone, hope y'all like it! <3

The train screeched to a halt, jolting Chrissy Cunningham from her foggy, half-conscious state. Her head rested lightly against the frosted glass of the window, and she blinked at the blizzard outside. Snow pelted the panes in relentless waves, erasing the world beyond into a blur of white. Faint, skeletal trees loomed in the distance, bent under the storm’s fury. A snowstorm. How fitting. How poetic.

The loudspeakers crackled to life with a sharp hiss of static, breaking the tense silence of the cabin. A weary, apologetic voice cut through the noise: “Ladies and gentlemen, due to severe weather conditions, we are unable to proceed at this time. Please remain seated or move to the central cabin for updates. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Chaos erupted almost immediately. Frustration echoed through the narrow aisles. Parents snatched up their children with rushed, frantic movements, while the sound of suitcases crashing into one another filled the air. Passengers shouted for answers, demanded movement, but the only thing moving was the panic spreading among them. There was no Santa Claus here. No Christmas joy. Only the cold, the storm, and the collective desperation to be somewhere—anywhere—other than this stranded train in the middle of nowhere.

Chrissy, however, remained still. Motionless. While the storm raged outside and the cabin roared with anger and confusion, she didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She may as well have been invisible.

It was Christmas Eve. Nearly six o’clock. But Chrissy felt no rush, no urgency, no longing to be anywhere else. The chaos that consumed the other passengers seemed absurd to her, like she was watching a scene in a play she didn’t belong to. People clamored to reach their families, desperate to be home for the holidays.

But Chrissy had no family left to return to. Alone. Completely alone.

Her dad had died six years ago, a sudden heart attack ripping him away. He hadn’t been old, just gone, leaving her with memories of a flawed man who had loved her unconditionally. Her mother might as well have been gone too, siding with Jason during the divorce and severing their bond with cold silence.

No apology, no goodbye. Just absence.

And Jason—God, Jason Carver. The ink on the divorce papers had barely dried. That was why she’d packed everything and left. The chapter was closed, but the wounds still stung. She never wanted to see him or his family again. Ten Christmases of enduring their shallow cheer had been ten too many. A decade of fake smiles and hollow traditions had nearly broken her.

But now, at twenty-seven, she was free. Truly, terrifyingly free.

Yet freedom didn’t feel like victory. It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into an abyss she had no idea how to navigate. The question wasn’t just where she would go—it was how. How do you rebuild after losing everything? How do you start again when all you’ve known is rejection, pain, and loneliness?

She would figure it out. Somehow.

The storm battered the train, snow slamming against the windows, but Chrissy sat motionless, untouched by the chaos. She had nowhere to go, no one waiting for her. She was alone.

The shouting, crying, and frantic arguments around her grew unbearable, suffocating her. She couldn’t take it anymore. Rising abruptly, she ignored the staff’s pleas to stay seated. 

"Excuse me," she muttered, pushing through the crowded aisle. 

No one noticed her as she pushed through the chaos. The train, completely stalled and battered by the storm, groaned under its weight as she reached the door between cars. She forced it open and stepped through, escaping into another carriage.

The dining car was dark, silent, and empty. The power had gone out, plunging the space into shadows. It was untouched by the panic she’d left behind—still, almost otherworldly.

Finally, she could breathe. Alone.

Chrissy sank into a booth and exhaled shakily. The windows rattled under the storm’s relentless fury, but the quiet enveloped her. For the first time in hours—maybe days—she felt some semblance of peace.

She closed her eyes, her head pounding with the weight of the last years. A picture-perfect marriage. A spotless home. A carefully curated life as Jason Carver’s perfect wife—he, with his glossy hair and hollow charm, perfect at company parties but a stranger in every other way.  

Chrissy had suffocated in that life. She’d left, despite the guilt, despite the sting of her mother’s accusations. She hadn’t ruined anything, she knew. You can’t ruin a life that doesn’t feel alive.

And now, here she was—back on the road to Hawkins, where it all began. The small town she hadn’t seen in ten years, where ghosts of her childhood and teen years lingered.

She was going to visit her father’s grave, sit in silence, and wish him a Merry Christmas, hoping for answers she knew wouldn’t come.

Chrissy sank into a window seat, the cold glass against her temple. Outside, snow fell relentlessly, but here in the stillness, she could finally think. The storm howled, muffled by the train's quiet hum. For once, she welcomed the solitude.

The cabin door groaned open, snapping her from her thoughts. Irritation flared—another passenger, she assumed, or worse, a train attendant ready to send her back into the chaos. She shrank into her seat, hoping to go unnoticed.

The footsteps approached—slow, heavy, deliberate—and then stopped. She tensed, her breath catching in her throat. A heavy sigh followed, and Chrissy instinctively squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to remain unseen.

But then she heard it—the unmistakable sound of heavy boots on the floor, the faint creak of leather. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in ten years, one that belonged to only one person. Because in her unbearable life, she had never met anyone else who wore leather jackets like he did.

It was too familiar. Unsettlingly so. The tension in her chest doubled, her pulse racing in disbelief.  

No. It couldn’t be. Coincidence? Or maybe she’d finally lost her mind.  

And then came the voice.  

“Chriiissy Cunningham.”  

Her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. The way he said her name—drawn out, theatrical, and teasing—that voice she hadn’t heard in ten years crashed over her like a tidal wave. Only one person ever called her that. Only him.  

Every syllable was soaked in memories she had fought to bury, ones that now clawed their way back to the surface. It felt like time itself had collapsed, leaving her trapped between past and present, unable to escape either.  

Frozen, she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. A long moment passed, heavy with anticipation, before she finally turned. Wide eyes locked on the figure just a few feet away, and her breath hitched all over again.  

That voice. Unmistakable. Teasing. Theatrical. With just enough grit to send her stomach into freefall.  

“Eddie?” Her voice trembled as it left her lips. “Eddie Munson? Oh my God, is it really you?”  

“The one and only,” he said, his grin crooked and unmistakably familiar.  

He was taller than she remembered, his shoulders broader, his presence commanding the space in a way that was both comforting and exhilarating. His dark hair, longer now, spilled past his shoulders in tousled waves, with a few strands tucked behind a black beanie. That grin—mischievous, lopsided—hadn’t changed, but his eyes held a new softness, a depth she hadn’t noticed before.  

A faint beard traced the sharp line of his jaw, adding a ruggedness that only made him more striking. Snow dusted his leather jacket, and the glint of silver rings on his fingers caught the dim light. They were fewer now—subtler, more refined—but still unmistakably Eddie.

Everything about him screamed his signature style—black sweater, jeans, boots, and jacket—but now there was an effortless confidence about him that felt new, almost grounding.  

He had aged almost unfairly well. Ten years wasn’t much—he wasn’t even thirty yet—but somehow, he seemed more settled, more at peace. More him.  

“I thought I was losing my mind two minutes ago when I saw that pretty blonde hair,” he added, breaking the silence with his voice and that giant smile—the smile—that only appeared when he was with her, a smile that hadn't seen the light of day in ten years.

Chrissy froze, too stunned to respond.

“So you recognize me by my back?” Her voice was light, almost giddy, in a way she hadn’t heard in years. A genuine smile spread across her face, her body warming with excitement despite the storm outside.

“I’d recognize you anywhere.”

Her mouth dropped open, then closed, stunned. Happiness. She hadn’t felt it like this in so long. Eddie Munson, without even knowing it, had the power to make her smile in an instant, and she finally understood what that feeling meant.

But as quickly as the happiness came, a wave of sadness followed. So much time had passed. Ten years. More. Years spent thinking about him, especially when her mother had forced her to leave Hawkins and marry Jason.

Chrissy’s chest tightened. It had been over a decade since that day in the woods, the almost-kiss on his trailer couch. And now, here he was—like no time had passed, but somehow carrying the weight of all those years between them. She stood, her knees weak, and for a long moment, they just stared at each other.

“You…” Chrissy struggled to find her words, her smile still spreading across her face. “What are you doing here?” The smile was a mix of shock, surprise, and happiness, leaving her completely lost in the moment.

She was so bundled up, feeling overheated despite the snowstorm, her cheeks flushed with emotion. Eddie Munson stood before her, his eyes soft and warm in a way she hadn’t realized she missed. He looked at her with the same mix of shock, surprise, and pure joy reflected in her own gaze.

They stood frozen in the dimly lit cabin, the storm raging outside, but within the space between them, everything felt still, the light in their eyes brighter than anything around them.

He shrugged, his grin softening. “Heading to Hawkins. Uncle Wayne’s too old to fly, so I figured I’d make the trip this year.” His eyes scanned her face. “And you? What brings you back to our slice of hell?”

Chrissy hesitated, shifting her weight. “I… I’m visiting my dad’s grave. He passed away a few years ago.” 

Eddie’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Your dad was… he was a good guy.” 

“Yeah,” she whispered. “He was.”

“You good?” He did it again—tilting his head slightly, his eyes soft and concerned, just like he had in that forest over ten years ago. The only person who didn’t just look at her but truly saw her.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling for real this time. “Better now.”

His body stiffened at her words, as if they’d hit him like a punch. He wasn’t that awkward teen anymore, but hearing better now from Chrissy Cunningham, after all this time, felt like a gift he didn’t deserve. It made him feel like that lost, invisible Munson again—the one who spent years watching her from the hallways of Hawkins High, aching for any sliver of attention. If he had heard those words back then, they would’ve broken him. Hell, they almost did now.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken memories. Eddie shifted, breaking the moment. He gestured to the seat across from her. “Mind if I sit? Or am I interrupting your peace and quiet?”

Chrissy shook her head quickly. “No, it’s fine. Please, sit.” She fought to keep her voice steady, but deep down, she was eager for his company. 

After ten years of bad memories, Eddie Munson had always been part of the good ones. And now, here he was—like a Christmas miracle, a gift she hadn’t known she needed.

He slid into the seat, his long legs stretching out, the space between them feeling smaller with each passing second. He pulled a flask from his bag and set it down on the table between them. 

“Figured I’d hide back here. It’s crazy up there.”

She laughed lightly, though it was laced with nervousness. “Same. I couldn’t deal with all the yelling.” 

Eddie unscrewed the cap of the flask, revealing whiskey, and took a swig before holding it out to her. 

“Want some?” Eddie gave a small, apologetic smile, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the canteen. "Sorry about that. I don’t usually drink, but I’ve been on a plane for hours, then a train, and now… this." 

Chrissy chuckled softly, her eyes softening with understanding. "It's alright. I get it. We all have our days." 

He paused, his voice taking on a lighter tone. "Just don’t let me be a bad influence on you, alright?" 

She chuckled, warmth spreading in her chest. "I promise."

She hesitated but then took the flask. The whiskey burned as it slid down her throat, offering relief from the tightness in her chest.

“We shouldn’t be drinking on the Lord’s day,” she joked, passing it back to him.

“Yeah, well, He should’ve thought twice before trapping us under a snowstorm this cold,” Eddie quipped, his voice teasing and theatrical, making her laugh again.

Chrissy’s gaze fell to his long legs, stretched out and nearly three times the size of hers, making the seat feel too tight and the heat too intense. Their knees almost touched through her pantyhose and leg warmers. She glanced at his large hands, the silver rings gripping the canteen.

And in that moment, Eddie Munson, now 29, couldn't shake the feeling of being that awkward teenager again—suddenly aware that his lips had just been where hers had, on the neck of the flask.

“So,” Eddie broke the silence, his voice soft but steady, “what’s life been like for Chrissy Cunningham?”

She let out a humorless laugh, setting the flask down, and met his eyes with a small, almost sad smile. “You really want to know?” she teased, a tiny frown curling on her lips.

"Of course," he replied, his tone sincere. 

His dark eyes locked onto hers, his gaze so intense it made her heart race, and for a moment, nothing in the world could slow it down.

Chrissy exhaled, her breath fogging in the cold air. “Well, I got married. To Jason Carver.”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, though he said nothing, his gaze steady on her face.

“And I got divorced,” she continued, her voice quieter. “Yesterday, I finally signed the papers.” She swallowed, trying to push past the sting of the words. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t what I thought it would be. What everyone told me it should be.”

Eddie nodded slowly, his expression softening. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah.” She gave a small, bitter smile. “But now I’m… I don’t know. Starting over, I guess. Trying to figure out what I actually want.”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving hers. “And what do you want?”

Chrissy hesitated, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the canteen, almost brushing his. They both glanced down, the air between them thick with unspoken words. She felt the heat of his presence, the closeness, making her heart race. They both swallowed hard in unison, as if the same weight had settled between them.

Finally, Chrissy spoke, her voice soft, laced with vulnerability.

“I want to be a writer. I always have. But... I don’t know if I can. Maybe it’s too late. I spent so much time in a marriage I knew was wrong, and now... I’m just...” She trailed off, her breath shaky, unable to finish the thought.

Eddie’s face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Hell yeah, you can do it. That’s awesome, Chrissy.”

She laughed, the warmth creeping into her cheeks. It had been so long since she’d known what support felt like. "Thanks. We’ll see."

“Seattle’s a great place for writers,” Eddie said with a side smile, his voice light but sincere. “I live there now. Lots of rain. Lots of coffee shops.” 

He winked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile in return, the sound genuine, something she hadn’t felt in years. A small moment of support, something so simple, yet it felt like a lifeline. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, embarrassed by how much she needed that. 

“If you need an old friend to help you start again…” he added, his voice soft but carrying that familiar warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much.

Chrissy’s heart fluttered. She laughed softly, her cheeks flushed with something that felt like hope, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years. “I might just take you up on that. Starting over sounds a lot easier with a friend like you."

Eddie's smile softened. “You’re never alone, Chrissy. As long as my heart is still beating around here... you'll always have someone to count on, if that means anything.”

She opened her mouth, but the words caught, and for a moment, she felt a lump form in her throat. Her eyes watered, and she blinked hard, trying to hold back the emotion threatening to spill over. 

"That… that means a lot," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't even tell you how much that means to me."

Her hands trembled slightly, and she wrapped them around the canteen, finding comfort in the simple action. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was soft, like a quiet understanding that lingered in the air. She looked down, taking a slow breath to steady herself, then met his gaze once more.

Afraid of letting the mood turn too sad, Chrissy blinked several times to clear the moisture from her eyes, trying to shake the lump in her throat. 

"So..." she paused, her voice lighter, trying to bring back a bit of fun. “Seattle? That’s amazing. You always loved music!”

“Still do,” Eddie said, his grin softening. “Still do.”

She raised an eyebrow, repeating the question he’d asked her earlier. “How was life for Eddie Munson?”

“I work as a sound tech and songwriter in a studio…for grunge bands. I do the hard work, and the pretty boys get to sing it,” he said with a wink.

Chrissy chuckled, shaking her head. Her gaze lingered on the rings on his fingers—two on one hand, three on the other—and a question she couldn't shake crept into her mind. Is he married? The doubt gnawed at her as she waited for him to speak, but he only mentioned his job. The thought lingered, making her swallow hard, discomfort tightening in her chest at the uncertainty.

"What about…marriage? Kids?" she asked, her voice a little quieter than she intended.

Eddie’s expression grew wistful. “Nope. Just me and my guitar. Had a few girlfriends, but nothing stuck.”

Chrissy’s gaze drifted back to his hands, focusing on the ring on his wedding finger.

She bit her lip, then asked cautiously, “The ring…?”

“Oh, this?” Eddie held up his hand with a laugh. “No, it’s not a wedding ring. Just... you know me. I like my rings.”

A wave of relief washed over her, though she wasn’t sure why. A smile tugged at her lips, and suddenly, she felt like laughing, like running out into the snowstorm. Her voice grew stronger as she looked at him.

And Eddie was already looking at her in that way—the way only he could. The same way he had looked at her in that forest ten years ago, mouth slightly open, eyes unblinking, as if trying to capture every detail of the moment.

She looked like an angel frozen in time. The soft glow of her white blouse against the dim cabin light, her flushed cheeks offering a warm contrast to the cool air. Her blue eyes sparkled with a kind of innocence that seemed untouched by time, framed by her long, blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her pink lips, slightly parted, held a quiet mystery, as if she were about to speak but hadn’t yet decided. Her nose, delicate and slightly upturned, completed the perfect symmetry of her face.

Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away, unable to blink, almost desperate to memorize every detail.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” Chrissy whispered, her voice trembling slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Just memories.” Eddie murmured. 

The air between them was thick, charged with a tension neither of them could ignore. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, neither could look away.

Chrissy tried to break the gaze, but every time she moved, she felt his presence, that intoxicating scent of him drawing her in like a magnet. The snowstorm outside felt miles away as her heart raced, her thoughts spinning back to memories long buried.

She could still remember the last time he’d looked at her like this— that night in the trailer when they had shared a joint and almost kissed. And now, standing in front of him, it felt like time had looped back to that moment.

“You’re still incredibly pretty, you know,” Eddie said suddenly, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "God damn, I’m not kidding. It seems like every time I look at you, you get even prettier. Fuck.” He took another sip.

“Eddie…”

Chrissy’s cheeks burned, her breath catching in her throat. She looked away, struggling to hide the heat rising in her face. That smile, the one that made her skin tingle, was threatening to appear. 

“I’m just saying what’s true,” he replied with a grin. “I used to think about you, remember your face, and wonder, damn, no way someone could be that beautiful. It must’ve been in my head. But fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t used to being looked at this way—like she was worth noticing. Her ex husband had never looked at her like that, never spoken to her with such tenderness. But here, now, Eddie’s eyes held her with such sincerity, making her feel something she hadn’t in years—vulnerable, alive, beautiful. 

Still, as she looked at him—strong, confident, now an adult man—it made her breathe in deeply and feel something she hadn’t in so long. And oh... he smelled so good, like a masculine fragrance that...

Her chest tightened, and she had to look down to hide the way her heart was hammering. There was a warmth inside her that she hadn’t felt in years, and she didn’t know how to respond.

Her voice barely above a whisper, she finally said, “I… I don’t know what to say.”

"You don't need to say anything. Why do you feel like you need to?" he laughed. "I'm just saying you're so fucking pretty, it's surreal. So just accept it."

Silence. He looked at her…adorable, like a doll, like an angel, her cheeks flushed, turned pink, as she smiled, blushing shyly. Fuck…so pretty.

"Every time I wanted to remember you, I..." he said, drinking the whiskey with force. "The sky, the green trees, anything beautiful made me think of you." He laughed, his lips still on the bottle. But what he really wanted to say was, we were getting married in my head all the damn time.

"You... you thought about me... all these years?"

"Oh please," he said softly, a slight edge to his voice. "Do you think I have forgotten...Do you think I have forgotten about you?"

"Hey!" Her eyes widened. She'd heard this before on the radio. "That's a song! What's the band's name? I hear it on the radio!"

“I know,” he laughed. “I wrote it. Like I said, I do the heavy lifting in the studio, and the pretty guys sing.”

She opened and closed her mouth again, as if she wanted to believe for a second that he had written that song with her in mind. She didn’t need to believe it—because it was true. Of course, it was about her.

She shook her head, laughing.

“Oh, Eddie…”

He was even more handsome, more charming as the years went on.

“You haven’t changed much, have you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, his grin softening. “But not where it counts.”

Silence filled the air as they both stared at their hands. 

She hesitated, then asked softly, “So... how long has it been since you last went to Hawkins?”

“Ten years,” he admitted. “My uncle used to visit me in Seattle every Christmas because he knew how much I hated Hawkins.” 

He gave a sad smile, the weight of his words sinking between them. The memories of how Hawkins talked about him, gossiped about him, were still fresh.

Her eyes softened, and he caught the hint of sadness there—sadness for him. He never deserved that, she thought. He’s so sweet. Always has been.

“So... yeah,” he said, trailing off before turning the question back to her. “And you?”

The look in her eyes when he asked said it all. He could almost guess her answer.

But on the other hand, she loved that he wanted to talk to her. There was something about his voice, his presence—it made her feel... something she couldn’t quite put into words. Familiar. Safe. Like life could always be this way—simple, warm, and good.

“Well,” she said softly, “the last time was six years ago. Then my dad passed, and my mom came to live with me.”

She exhaled a heavy breath, and Eddie’s chest ached for her. Life had clearly been hard for her these past few years—he could see it in her face. Poor Chrissy, he thought. She never deserved any of it.

To Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham had always been a dream girl. And dream girls? They belonged in dream worlds.

Any guy lucky enough to have her should know that. But Jason Carver obviously didn’t.

Chrissy broke the silence again.

“I’m still... not myself since the divorce. Actually, it’s been ten years,” she admitted. “So now I’m here. I came to visit my dad—the only one who ever really supported me. But he’s gone, so...” She laughed bitterly. “I guess I’ll just stop by his grave to say, ‘Merry Christmas, Dad,’ and then spend the next few days at a hotel. Renting anything during the holidays is impossible."

“But...” she added softly, her voice wavering, “I don’t know. I kind of hoped I’d feel at home in Hawkins for a few days. At least before I start searching for a new home somewhere in this big country. It’s kind of cool, starting over anywhere I want. But also... terrifying.”

Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and Eddie’s chest tightened again.

He wanted to invite her to stay with him and Uncle Wayne. It wasn’t the trailer anymore—Eddie had used the money from the songs he’d written and produced to buy Wayne a proper house. But even so, the thought of asking her to stay felt outrageous. She’d never accept. Not Chrissy. She deserved so much better than he could ever offer.

So he stayed quiet, took another long sip of the warm whiskey they shared, and let its heat burn away the words he didn’t dare to say.

She took a deep breath. Silence.

“Can I have another sip of that?” she asked.

“Yep, go for it.”

He handed her the flask, grinning as he watched Chrissy take a long drink. Her face scrunched up slowly in reaction to the burn, a mix of discomfort and determination.

“Rookie,” he teased.

She laughed, the sound soft and genuine, filling the quiet space between them.

๑

An hour later, the train was still stopped. The muffled shouts of frustrated passengers echoed faintly from another car, but in theirs? It was a different story.

Their empty carriage, devoid of anyone else, was anything but quiet. The air was filled with noise—slurred words, loud laughter, and the clinking of the nearly empty flask as they passed it back and forth.

They were drunk. Drunk and laughing, talking nonsense, and feeling freer than they had in years.

“Oh my god, Munson, you’re such an idiot!” She laughed until her stomach hurt, barely remembering the last time she’d laughed this hard.

“Me? You’re the one who said the stupid thing first!” He slapped the floor, laughing. They weren’t sitting in the seats anymore; instead, they were on the floor, side by side, leaning against the train as they watched the snow fall fiercely outside.

“Oh, my belly hurts,” she gasped between fits of laughter, her face red from the joy. Her hat had fallen to the floor, along with the first layer of coats, slowly discarded as the warmth from the alcohol and their happiness filled the space.

And then, there was that comfortable silence after the laughter—the kind of silence that felt happy, with the last echoes of laughter fading away. His joyful laugh, the one she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much.

Jason had never laughed at her jokes like that. But Eddie did. She thought about it for a moment, how strange it was that he thought she was funny. Because Jason never did.

Chrissy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watching Eddie. She smiled softly, and then it hit her... how beautiful he looked when he smiled like that—throwing his head back, laughing like a little kid.

That wave of joy from the alcohol hit her with full force, and she threw her arms wide, her heart racing with an energy she hadn’t felt in years.

“I want... you know, have you ever felt like this?” She laughed breathlessly, her voice a little wobbly from the alcohol and excitement. “I want to do everything. I feel like I’ve been trapped for ten years. I want to see the world. I want to live—I want to do everything I’ve never done, everything I haven’t done in so long. I want to dance!”

Eddie looked at her, a playful glint in his eyes, his lips curling into that familiar grin. He shook his head, still laughing, clearly tipsy. “Ah, stop.”

“What?” She tilted her head, still smiling.

“Dancing’s easy.”

“Yeah, right.” She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, but the laughter in her voice was undeniable.

“No, seriously,” Eddie said, his tone suddenly softer, more sincere, as if he meant it. He locked eyes with her for a moment. “It’s easy. Come on, now, right now.” Without missing a beat, he jumped to his feet, his movements slightly unsteady but full of energy. He held out his hand to her, the gesture so simple yet so meaningful.

She looked up into his face—those familiar eyes full of mischief and something deeper, something softer, something that made her chest flutter. A warm, light flush spread across her cheeks, and a rush of emotion flooded through her. She felt her pulse quicken as she stared at him, unsure of what to do next but desperately wanting to be near him.

She finally took his hand.

“You’re drunk,” she said, her voice breathy, her lips curling into a smile. “You don’t dance.”

“That's true, but!” Eddie grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar spark. “But we’re going now. Come on, get up.” He gently pulled her to her feet, his hand in hers, still gloved. His smile was wide and inviting. Chrissy stumbled slightly, her balance off, and she laughed, the sound light and carefree.

She glanced down at her gloved hand, still holding his. The soft fabric of her glove blocked the full contact she had wanted, and a tiny thought flickered in her mind. She could feel his warmth through the fabric, but it wasn’t the same. She wondered, briefly, why she’d taken off her hat but kept the gloves on.

But that fleeting thought vanished as Eddie pulled her closer, grinning like a kid. She couldn’t stop smiling, the joy bubbling up inside her, her cheeks burning with a rush of happiness.

“We don’t even have music,” she said, her voice almost teasing, yet soft.

Eddie winked at her. “Of course we do.” 

He fished around in his leather jacket pocket and pulled out his old Walkman, the one he’d been listening to all day. The last tape still inside: Perfect Day by Lou Reed.

Chrissy’s eyes fell on the tape, and she burst into laughter. “Oh my god, this is the world’s most depressing song!”

“We can change its meaning,” Eddie said, his voice teasing, but his smile was warm, and there was a certain (a lot of) affection in the way he looked at her.

She took a deep breath and let out a laugh that felt freer than anything she’d experienced in years. Eddie helped her up gently, and she wobbled slightly, her body still adjusting to the warmth of the alcohol.

Eddie chuckled, watching her with a bright, excited energy.

She practically bounced on her feet, as if she couldn't hold back the joy bubbling up inside her.

"Oh wait!" Chrissy exclaimed, realizing her hands were still gloved. 

She slid the glove off, eager to feel his skin against hers. He waited patiently, then gently held her soft, delicate hand in his with the most careful touch, as if she were made of porcelain. 

The moment her fingers brushed against his, she felt a shiver run up her spine, a quiet electricity that she tried to ignore but couldn’t. His hand was warm, his grip steady, and for a moment, she just stood there, holding his hand, letting the connection linger. 

She had never been touched like this before—her small hand inside his large, calloused one, worn from playing guitar. She felt the cold of his rings against her still-warm skin, but she didn’t need to worry, because his hands would warm hers in place of the glove.

Chrissy felt a chill in her stomach, the kind she hadn’t felt in years. Her cheeks tingled, and she lowered her gaze, trying to steady her breathing. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest, her body warm—but it wasn’t just the alcohol.

He handed her one of the headphones, keeping the other for himself. They both giggled, their faces flushed, as they fumbled with the tangled wires, trying to figure out how to share the music.

The scene was ridiculous and adorable—two tipsy, clumsy souls trying to make it work. 

Eddie paused for a moment, and without warning, he gently asked for permission with a glance. She nodded with a soft smile, her heart fluttering. 

When he slid his hand around her waist, it sent a sharp shiver through her, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks as the familiar cold sensation returned to her stomach. 

The way he pulled her closer, his chest pressing gently against hers, made her body feel alive in a way she hadn’t expected. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of his body or the proximity between them, but she could feel the heat from his skin through the layers of clothing they both wore. He felt solid, real, and comforting.

Her breath hitched as she unconsciously rested her free hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm.

Without saying a word, Eddie pressed play on the Walkman. The soft, familiar tune of Perfect Day by Lou Reed filled the small space between them.

The world outside seemed to vanish as they stood there, bodies close, swaying slightly to the music. 

Chrissy’s heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something new, something deep inside her that had awoken in this quiet, intimate moment. She looked up at him, and the connection between them felt so real, so full of promise.

The music played softly in the background, but in the small train carriage, everything around them seemed to be silenced. They were there, without haste, without words, just moving gently.

She could feel the rhythm of the music in the air, but their feet stayed still. It was as if time had slowed down, the snow falling outside creating the perfect backdrop for the moment, stretching out like a peaceful dream.

Chrissy looked up at Eddie, her body still warm from the closeness between them, and found him with his eyes closed. There was something vulnerable in the way he stood there, so near, yet so lost in the music and her presence. 

When he rested his chin on top of her head, she felt a soft shiver, as if every strand of hair that brushed her skin was a delicate touch.

The intimacy of the moment deepened with every passing second, and she almost wanted to close her eyes too, but at the same time, she wanted to take in everything—the warmth of his body, the sound of the music, the peace of it all.

Suddenly, Eddie opened his eyes, and the moment they were sharing was broken. He realized she was looking at him, and their eyes met, almost instantly. He gave a slight start, a little embarrassed, and tried to cover it with a cough, shifting awkwardly as if trying to pretend he hadn't been caught in the act.

But just then, as the music picked up in tempo, Eddie grinned and, with a playful glint in his eyes, spun her around, making her laugh brightly. The sound was infectious, a burst of pure joy that made her heart race.

He pulled her back into him, their bodies pressed together, and they stood there for a moment, looking at each other. She couldn’t stop smiling, but as their faces drew closer, she lowered her eyes, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. 

Only Eddie Munson could take the world’s most depressive song and turn it into a soundtrack for one of the happiest moments of her life.

She sighed softly, the music coming to an end, Lou Reed’s voice still lingering in the air, singing You just keep me hanging on.

Chrissy couldn’t help but wonder how five minutes had passed so quickly.

She didn’t want it to end. It was the feeling you get when something good is about to slip away, and you try to hold onto the last moments with desperation. That’s exactly how she felt as she laid her head on his chest.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” she whispered, the rhythm of his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.

She could feel his chest, hard yet comforting against her cheek. The sound of his heartbeat was like music in itself, a rhythm that calmed her, wrapped her up in warmth.

“It’s the whiskey,” he replied softly, his breath brushing her skin as he chuckled lightly. 

She could feel the vibration of his laughter against her face, still resting so close to him, and for a moment, she wished she could just melt into him—become part of him. To feel the happiness he brought her, all at once. To lose herself completely in that warmth, that lightness, that safe feeling she hadn’t known in so long.

“This is…so good,” she murmured, not sure if she said it aloud or just thought it.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the comfort of him, not wanting to let go. 

She closed her eyes, the warmth of his chest so comforting. If she could, she would stay there forever, lost in that feeling. It felt like discovering happiness for the first time.

As the snow fell outside, and the warmth from the alcohol buzzed in their veins, Chrissy couldn’t help but think about how everything felt both incredibly fleeting and so incredibly real. The song, Perfect Day, had always felt like a bittersweet anthem—a reminder of everything she’d lost.

She had spent so many years, maybe too many, replaying moments in that forest, moments with Eddie that seemed to belong to another life. And now here they were, in this tiny, frozen world inside the train, laughing, dancing, like the years hadn’t even passed.

And yet, a quiet sadness tugged at her heart. She had spent the last decade replaying those memories, wondering why her life had only consisted of small, fleeting moments of happiness—moments that always slipped away too soon. 

But tonight? Tonight was different. She was here, with him, laughing, feeling something she hadn't felt in years. Chrissy could almost feel hope swelling in her chest, mixing with the sadness, the thrill, the fear. She didn’t want to let go of this moment, this perfect, improbable night. 

One hour with Eddie Munson was better than ten years of her life, just like that afternoon in the woods ten years ago was better than much of her life.

She knew, deep down, she’d spend the next ten years remembering this night—this song, this dance, the warmth of Eddie beside her.

The thought made her chest tighten.

But then, a thought lingered. Unless.

What if her life could be more than small, fleeting moments of happiness?

What if it could be more than just memories? What if, somehow, it could be a happy life?

A real life, with him in it, in all the ways she had always dreamed about, but was too afraid to imagine?

She looked up at Eddie, his wild eyes full of softness and something deeper, something real. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late for her to find out.

Her heart fluttered with the possibility.

The song ended, and she knew she should pull away, but neither of them moved, still wrapped in the moment.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered softly, and she laughed loudly, loving how he always managed to make her laugh, no matter the moment.

"You're such a fool, it's only 7 p.m.!" she teased him between giggles, playfully hitting his chest.

They both laughed, the sound echoing in the space between them. Then, the music shifted, a new song beginning to play softly.

"What’s this song?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

"Have no idea," he replied, just as she smiled at him, her heart lighter.

"Dancing feels so good. I should've danced more," she whispered slowly, her voice trailing off against his chest. 

"I would have taken you to dance all the time if I had the chance," Eddie whispered so softly she almost didn't hear it. "And I don't even dance."

Then, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling with a new light. Eddie quickly looked away, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry, I’m drunk," he mumbled, regretting his words immediately.

He regretted it, but then again, when it came to Chrissy, it always required courage. For the last 10 years—or, I mean, much more than just 10 years—he had never had the courage to tell her she was beautiful or that he liked her. He never had the courage to ask her out. After that almost-kiss on the couch, after that afternoon in the forest that he couldn’t decide whether was real or just a figment of his stoned mind, she left. 

And for the next ten years, despite a string of one-night stands and fleeting relationships, he always thought about her. Chrissy Cunningham—how is she? Even though he tried not to think about her after the news of her marriage in 1988, the last he’d heard about her. And now, like a gift from destiny he doesn’t even believe in, she's here, in his arms... like a Christmas gift, like a dream.

Courage, Munson, courage, he told himself again.

He looked at her, her eyes bright and full of life. Her hand was still resting on his chest. He knew this might be his only chance to have her this close.

"It’s not obvious?" he whispered.

"What?" she asked, confused.

“That I’m crazy about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have been for over 15 years."

Her mouth parted in surprise, her heart racing. She slid her hand over his chest, their faces so close now that he could feel her breath on his skin.

He wasn’t sure if she was pulling away or if she intended to touch him differently—maybe his face. But he’d never know because, in that moment, the lights flickered on, and the sound of the train’s engine filled the air. 

They jumped, startled, as the train started moving again, the world outside suddenly rushing back into focus.

The sudden change in atmosphere caught them off guard. Their moment was interrupted when a train worker entered, looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you two doing here? You need to get to your seats now."

They scrambled, rushing to gather everything scattered on the floor, disoriented and panicked. The train worker was shouting at them, ordering them to fasten their seatbelts and make their way to their seats.

The train was battling a snowstorm, and everyone needed to buckle up. In the chaos, they didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye, not even a glance exchanged between them. 

They had tickets for different sections, and all of them were full, so they couldn't sit together. Chrissy was pulled away, dragged into another car, and Eddie was ushered to his own, separated from her. 

But with every passing second, Chrissy couldn’t help but glance back, her heart aching. If it weren’t for the snowstorm shaking the train, she would have run after him, desperate to find him again, to not let this moment slip away.

She felt an invisible pull, a longing to go back to him, to hold onto whatever fleeting connection they’d shared.

Eddie sat alone in the cold silence of his seat, staring out of the window, lost in thoughts... How she lingered like a tattoo on him, permanent, forever etched into his soul, nothing could erase her. How she haunted all over his what-ifs.

He thought about how, from the moment he was young, he knew he loved her.

For him, she was love—everything about her was what love meant.

He knew she’d curse him for the longest time, that he’d spend his whole life chasing shadows in mundane places, wondering if he would ever see her again, wondering if she would ever feel the same way. He always knew she’d come back to him, even though, deep down, he knew this was just another cycle they couldn’t break.

And now, like every time before, he had lost her again.

The minutes dragged on, the clock ticking down the final hour of the ride. Chrissy couldn't stop looking back, her heart pounding. She had no idea which car Eddie was in—this train was so big, so full of people. 

The chaos of the train stopping when they arrived in Hawkins only made things worse. Everyone rushed to grab their luggage and get off. The line at baggage claim was long, and her anxiety made it feel like she couldn’t breathe.

She wanted to jump out of the line, to run, to find him. She didn’t know what she was doing; she just needed to see him again. Her hands shook as she grabbed her bag, pushing past people, ignoring the complaints and shouts as she cut through the line. She didn’t care. She needed to move, to find him.

The moment she stepped off the train, the cold air hit her like a slap, and she stumbled, disoriented by the blizzard that had taken over.

Snow fell in thick sheets, making everything around her blurry and indistinct. The chaos around her—the crowd of people, the loud voices, the luggage being pulled off—only added to her growing panic.

She looked desperately from side to side, her eyes scanning the sea of faces, searching for him. Where was he?

Her heart raced. Over a hundred people were exiting the train, and with each passing moment, she felt more and more lost in the storm. It was dark. The night was swallowing her up. And through it all, she kept looking, hoping, praying she'd spot him. 

Where is he? Is he looking for her too? 

The thought buzzed in her mind, but it was quickly drowned by the chaos and the storm around her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fought to keep her focus. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, or why she was so frantic, but something deep inside urged her to keep moving.

Then...oh.  

There he was.  

Eddie Munson…

Clad in all black, standing against the sea of white snow, carrying his black suitcase in one hand and his guitar case in the other. The storm had swept his hair in wild directions, and only the red tip of his nose peeked through the strands. His gaze was low, distant, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

For a moment, everything else faded. The noise, the snowstorm, the confusion. All she could see was him.  

It was just him. It was always him.

"Eddie!" she screamed. 

He stopped, his heart leaping in his chest. He’d been looking for her, but when their eyes met, he froze in shock. 

After everything he had confessed, he thought she'd want to distance herself. But there she was, standing in the snow, her eyes searching his with an intensity that matched his own.

And without thinking, without hesitation, she ran.  

Her boots sank into the snow with each step, but she didn’t care. She had no idea what she was doing, but there he was, and that was all that mattered. 

"You... you weren't even going to say goodbye?" 

The hurt in her voice made his chest tighten. Her words hit him like a wave, soft but full of pain.

The snowstorm whipped around them, their hair flying in all directions, making it nearly impossible to keep their eyes open, but neither of them looked away.

"I didn’t want to say goodbye," Eddie said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I can’t say goodbye to you again. I can’t keep saying goodbye to you all the damn time, Chrissy Cunningham." He paused, his gaze softening. "But I know... I know there’s no other way."

The hurt in his face was clear—his nose red, but not from the cold. It was the kind of pain that went deeper, a sadness that weighed heavily on him.

She sighed deeply, her breath a cloud in the cold air. "I don’t want to say goodbye either, Eddie." Her voice broke, raw and vulnerable, her eyes never leaving his.

Their hearts pounded in their chests, fast and loud. Neither of them knew what to do, standing in the middle of the crowd, in the midst of the storm. The world rushed around them, yet they remained frozen, caught in their own moment.

"Come with me, Chrissy," he said. "Not just for Christmas, not just for now... but... come with me." 

Courage. He had courage. He was finding it now.

His voice sounded desperate. The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the instant they did, fear gripped him. 

Eddie regretted it, terrified of pushing her away with the intensity of his feelings. He opened his mouth to apologize, to say something less bold, but before he could, he saw her nod. 

It wasn’t just a nod. It was as if she was agreeing to everything. To him. To the future. To the unknown. Yes…YES. 

She gave him a big smile, the biggest in the world... and he... he smiled right back at her, the prettiest one that made her stomach flutter with butterflies.  

They only broke the moment when hurried people brushed past them, their busy paths interrupting the stillness.  

"Are these your things?" Eddie asked, looking at the heavy suitcase in her hand. She nodded. "Let me carry it for you," he said, his voice warm, but she just laughed again, the sound lifting his heart.  

"Thank you," she smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest, not used to this kind of gentleness.

"Oh my God, it's freezing," Chrissy laughed, her teeth chattering slightly as they started walking, lost in the rhythm of their own steps.

"I'll keep you warm," Eddie whispered, his voice soft but sure, as if he would never let her feel cold again. "Can I?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers with a tenderness she hadn't expected. 

She nodded without a second thought, her heart doing an excited leap in her chest.

She felt his hand—the one not holding their things—brush lightly against her cold fingers.

She hadn’t realized she’d forgotten her gloves, but the moment his skin touched hers, the chill melted away.

Eddie’s fingers gently caressed hers, a warmth spreading from his touch, so steady and comforting.

“There you go, ma’am,” he said softly, his grin playful as he blew warm air onto her frozen hands. 

She laughed, the sound ringing out, a mixture of joy and surprise at how simple, yet intimate, this moment was.

“C’mon, before you catch a cold. Uncle Wayne left me a car this morning. He’s gonna love you.”

Eddie’s joy was overflowing, his excitement clear in his voice as he walked, nearly stumbling with happiness.

"Shit, sorry," he quickly apologized after bumping into a passerby, his enthusiasm getting the best of him. 

Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at how contagious his energy was.

Her first real Christmas. Her smile was wide and genuine, a blend of excitement and anticipation—this was real, this was hers. A Christmas filled with warmth, love, and the promise of something she had never experienced before.

"Do you like roast turkey? Uncle Wayne makes the best," Eddie asked, grinning at her with that spark of pure joy in his eyes.

"Yes, I love it!" she said, practically bouncing with excitement.

The feeling of happiness was so new, so refreshing, she couldn’t help but feel like a little kid again. This Christmas was going to be perfect.

They walked together through the snow, Eddie's smile wide and genuine, and Chrissy’s laughter ringing out in the cold air.

And as they moved forward, hand in hand, it felt like she could spend the whole night here, the whole life here—right here, with him.

Eddie's hand in hers felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if they had always been meant to find each other here, now, in this fragile, beautiful moment.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his face soft and full of longing, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite describe, but she knew it was everything she had ever wanted.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life."

And in that moment, the snow fell around them like confetti, a celebration of what was to come.

Eddie's words, his touch, everything about this night felt like destiny weaving them together.

Her breath came out in clouds, but all she could think about was the way Eddie’s hand fit perfectly in hers, the way their laughter filled the air, the way everything felt so beautifully, effortlessly right.

And just as the chaos of the world outside seemed to swirl around them, she realized something: She wasn’t afraid anymore. She wasn’t afraid of love, of the unknown, or of the future. Because with Eddie by her side, everything felt... safe. Everything felt like it was going to be okay.

And as their hands intertwined, stepping into the snow, they both knew: this was just the beginning.

They kept walking, the world around them a blur of snow, light, and Christmas cheer, and Chrissy’s heart swelled with a love she had never known she was capable of feeling.

She had spent the last ten years believing that love only broke, burned, and ended. But on Christmas Day, amidst a snowstorm and a stalled train, in this whirlwind of snow and light — she watched it begin again.

The end.

I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it. If you liked it, let me know <3

[abandonedpost]

My Highest Worldly Bliss: Chapter One

@electronix-arts @traumatizedartist @sock-man37 @confettiiz @poltergeist-bunn (just tagging everyone who expressed some interest in the teaser — thank you so much by the way, I really appreciate it!)

Hi everyone! I know the poll isn’t technically over yet, but most people thus far voted for me to upload chapter one to Tumblr today, and had I waited… well “today” would’ve been over lol.

Here’s chapter one of my very first fic! Haha i feel so self-indulgent. Feel free to let me know what you think and give some feedback. Excuse the formatting issues! I’m new to this 🥲 Read it under the cut 👇🏼👇🏼

Soft white eyes met a glimmering violet glow.

And he knew, in earnest then, that he would never be the same.

——

Dawn broke over the horizon of Copper-9. The nearby sound of drilling overpowered Khan’s senses as he blinked sleep out of his eyes. The day greeted him like any other, with a sly grin and slap to the face. A long day in the shafts lay ahead.

He was never fully content living a life of servitude. The human masters had made his kind to mine their exoplanets, so each day, they would dig their way further through the bedrock, dust and hot air hanging heavy around them until it clogged their sensors and slicked their hair back. Yet the drone always longed for more: a life of his own; freedom from the shackles that kept him bound to the colliery.

Such were the dreams of an ambitious man. Better yet, a foolish man. He knew not to articulate his fantasies of revolt, or he’d have caught his death for it by now.

But Khan was lucky, his bright mind and ingenuity had impressed the humans. During a shaft collapse a few months back, he’d taken the reigns and stabilized the structure long enough to evacuate all the workers. Having saved them a pretty penny, the humans rewarded him with a promotion to construction. Meaning no more physical labor.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” The worker drone grabbed his clipboard, scanning the text to find his assignment. He flipped the page to find it in big bold letters, coupled with a map.

Cabin Fever Labs

Ceiling collapse on basement floor, building integrity compromised.

“Huh,” he thought, “Never heard of that place.”

Grabbing the map, he set out on his mission.

——

“Stop it! Don’t touch me!”

“The more you squirm, the more it’ll hurt, 002.”

“Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I swear!”

——

Khan didn’t expect the walk to take as long as it did. It felt like hours since he’d left the mines. His head was pounding, legs ached, and he contemplated giving up halfway.

“Screw the humans. They don’t deserve my help anyway.” He huffed, feeling the hot sun burn down on him.

Yet, against his better judgment, Khan persisted, wading through waist-high vegetation as he finally stumbled upon the Cabin Fever complex. It was at least ten stories high. Blacked-out windows lined the building in a grid-like pattern, and a large, metal door towered before the drone. It was locked, so he had no choice but to ring the bell.

A buzzer rang not long after. “State your name and the purpose of your visit,” came an annoyed voice on the other end.

“Uh, hello? I’m Khan. I-I’m here on behalf of JCJenson… to survey the ceiling collapse? I’m the Head of Construction at the copper mines.”

“Come in.” Another beep and Khan entered.

——

“Subject 002’s test results have been… alarming, to say the least.”

“What do you suppose we do?”

Purple eyes blinked open, and a blurry haze of white fluorescent light overwhelmed them. It took 002 a moment to realize where she was: the torture chamber, strapped to the patient bed. Everything hurt, and for a moment she cursed death for being too elusive a mercy for her. In the distance, she heard the voices of the Doctors.

Ever since that symbol had first plagued her processor they’d taken every opportunity to subject her to the latest “treatments”. Psychological torture, physical beatings, and solitary confinement had become staples of her daily routine.

“I think we ought to separate her and 048. It could be that two infected drones interacting is worsening the problem.”

This immediately set off alarms in 002’s mind. They couldn’t take 048 from her, she was the only good thing about this hellhole!

“I’ll inform Dr. Piers of the change. I’m sure we can accommodate 002 in 017’s room.”

Anger surged through her body. The mere thought of the Doctors taking the last good thing in her life away from her made 002 seethe. A thousand possibilities soared through her mind, until the symbol from her visions appeared in her hand once again.

“I said let me go!” A flash of violet light cut through the leather straps holding her down, and 002 fought back tears as she burst through the torture chamber door and down the hall.

——

Khan made his way to the basement of the labs, looking for the hall with the collapsed ceiling.

“There you are.” He whispered once he finally found his assignment. It was… a disturbing site to say the least. The ceiling tiles had been shattered beyond recognition, seemingly by force, and the wall nearby had been splattered with… oil? It sent a chill up his chassis.

He began surveying the damage when a female voice picked up behind him.

“So… they finally let someone see what goes on down here, huh? You some fresh meat or sumthin’?”

Khan was startled, jumping a bit before turning around, and then his shock turned to awe as he laid eyes on the most beautiful drone he’d ever seen. Her clothes were plain: a sleeveless grey dress, ID tag, gloves, and no shoes. Yet there was an undeniable fervor in her eyes, which were the most brilliant shade of purple-pink.

“Helloooo?” she asked, “Ya still in there or?” She tapped her fingers on his faceplate, effectively snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh— hi miss?” He tried to form a full sentence but was too taken aback, a vibrant white blush forming on his cheeks.

The woman played with the ends of her lavender hair and stifled a giggle, “I’ve never had a guy get flustered over me before. You sure you don’t belong down here with the rest of us defects?”

Embarrassed, Khan tried to reassert himself, “Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the Head of Construction, and I’m here to survey the ceiling collapse. Do you need help with something?”

——

Now that ticked 002 off. She couldn’t believe it! This… cute weird, weird man with a hard hat and too much audacity had the nerve to waltz into her home and ask her if she needed his help!

“Okay, nuance alert ‘ma’am,’” she said mockingly, “You’re in my neck of the woods right now! So how about we switch up the roles and ask if you need my help, hmm?” And to really get her point across, 002 held up three fingers, and the symbol appeared once more. In an instant, all the damage had been undone.

——

“Oh, uh. What was that?” It was a stupid question, but the construction worker couldn’t think of any other way to phrase it.

He watched as a deep, violet-pink blush covered the woman’s face. She crossed her arms and huffed, stepping backward “It’s uhm… it’s nothing. Just a virus I have,” Then her voice got quiet, “Bet it freaks you out, huh? Just like everyone else.”

Khan was about to say something to the contrary when heavy footsteps began racing down the hall. Humans. He watched as the purple lady’s eyes went hollow and she stepped back.

“I-I need to go,” she stammered, “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.”

“Wait!” He shouted back, but it was too late. He caught a final glimpse of her light as the beautiful violet woman turned a corner and disappeared.

“I didn’t even get your name…”

[azaleakoneko]

“Every inch of you…”

Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem|Reader

A/N: Hey Everyone, thanks for voting on the poll and helping me out! This is my first public fanfiction, so hopefully you like it ♡ Feel free to leave feedback in the comments!

Warnings: +18 MDNI, Angst (self inflicted anxiety, feeling inadequate), Comfort/NSFW, Praise, Begging, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Nicknames (My love, Sweetheart, Baby, Pretty girl), Vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: @downforsanji @stephisokay

“Oh come on, you still haven’t told him yet..?” Nami asked with an exasperated sigh as she crossed her arms and looked at you with a frown. “Do I have to tell him myself? Or are you going to wait for another Pudding to steal him away again?”

You couldn’t help but glare at the navigator, but deep down you knew she was right. You had been head over heels in love with Sanji ever since you’d joined the Strawhat Crew as the sous-chef, and it was almost painful how obvious it was to everyone on the crew.

Well, almost everyone.

The clueless chef had somehow overlooked your affections all this time, assuming your overt kindness and consideration towards him was nothing more than common courtesy, and you were too afraid of rejection to confess your true feelings to him.

Because of this, things had been uncharacteristically tense between the two of you since his reunion with the crew after the Whole Cake Island incident. He had assumed you were upset with him for turning his back on Luffy and the crew, but truthfully you were nursing a shattered heart from the exact situation Nami was referring to; Pudding.

“That’s not going to happen, Nami.” You practically growled at her as you stopped in your tracks. Just the mention of that girl’s name made your heart clench and made you feel sick to your stomach and she knew that; which is exactly why she said it.

“Oh yeah? You’ll tell him yourself and stop torturing yourself then? I don’t understand why you haven’t just put your big girl panties on and fessed up.” Nami huffed as her hands firmly dug into her hips. She wasn’t about to back down and let you sulk around the Sunny anymore. “This is Sanji we’re talking about. What are you so afraid of, y/n? Just tell him.”

Instead of snapping back with anger you wore a distraught expression on your face, shoulders sagging forward as your gaze fell to the floor. “That's easy for you to say. You're his precious 'Nami Swan'. I'm just the sous-chef, nothing special...”

“Babe, you are waaaay out of his league so I better never hear you say you're 'nothing special' ever again." Nami quipped as she rolled her eyes and grabbed you by the shoulders, giving you a few firm shakes to snap you out of it before she lifted a hand to grasp your chin-forcibly making you look at her. "Go. Tell.

Him. You know what? I'll help you."

“N-Nami..?” You were about to ask what she meant, but before you could protest she was already dragging you down the all too familiar route to the kitchen with a grip that didn’t allow you any squirming room. “Jeez!”

At this point the pair had garnered the attention of a few of the crew mates, but they knew far better than to interrupt Nami when she had that look on her face. Everyone acted like it was business as usual, purposely averting their gaze to avoid getting a chilling gaze from the woman.

“Listen to me. You are going to at least tell him the truth and give him a chance to respond at the very least.” She commanded as she haphazardly burst through the door to the kitchen and shoved you into the organized space. “Hey Sanji, would you be a dear and come over here for a sec? Y/n here has got something she’s been just dying to tell you.”

You looked at Nami with a look of deep rooted betrayal from the ambush, feeling your heart thump painfully in your throat accompanied with a wave of nausea from the anxiety you were experiencing upon realizing her intention with isolating you here.

Nami was too busy ensuring there was no way for you to escape as she inched her way back towards the doorway, reaching for the handle. “This is your chance, y/n. Don’t you dare try to leave now or I’ll start charging you berries for every time you whine about this guy. Got it?” She said as she flashed a playful wink before slipping out and hastily closing the door behind her.

A simple “Good luuuuck!” was the last thing Nami uttered through cupped hands against the kitchen door as you stood there in a state of panic.

You didn’t have long to process your situation however when your favorite sound drifted into your ears making you grip your fingers into your palms firmly in an attempt to quell your racing heart, causing small crescent moons to indent your skin.

“Y/n, is everything alright my love?” Sanji asked cautiously as he approached from the storage room, immediately noticing how tense her stance was.

When he saw you were hesitant to respond, or to even turn around for that matter, he gently urged the conversation forward again. “Why don’t you come sit down and I’ll make you something and then we can talk?”

You heard a few more light steps approaching and then felt a gentle tug on your hand coaxing you to turn around and acknowledge him. You felt a deep ache in your heart from how kind he was still being to you despite you brushing him off and avoiding him for the past few weeks.

Sanji wasn’t too bothered by the silence; at least you weren’t brushing him away like you had been lately. His fingers slipped across your palm as he gripped your hand tighter to seat you at the kitchen island and his brows creased when he felt the little marks in your skin. “Sit here for a moment, alright?”

You nodded and took a seat, gradually lifting your gaze to watch him as he meticulously assembled an assortment of snacks while brewing a pot of tea.

The longer you watched him the harder it was to rationalize why you had been pushing him away when all you truly wanted was to hold him closer.

You hadn’t even realized you had begun to cry, but Sanji did and he promptly abandoned his pursuit of making you snacks to immediately return to your side. Even if you were upset with him, he would never leave a woman in distress in his presence.

“Oh sweetheart... Please talk to me. Are you alright? Be honest.” Sanji urged as he sat beside you and took your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over your trembling hands.

Hearing him ask if you were alright only made matters worse and you already felt like you had no right to take comfort in his touch, but you tightened your grip on his hands anyhow. “I’m fine...it’s stupid.” You said in a weak attempt to deflect, but the way your eyes refused to hold eye contact was enough to tip off that lie—not that you really tried.

Sanji’s expression softened as y/n finally started to speak to him again. He freed one of his hands to wipe your tears and give you a reassuring smile that made your heart flutter even in this state of mind. “Darling, nothing that makes you cry is stupid. Whatever it is, let me help you. Please? I want to see that beautiful smile of yours again.”

You reached your hand up and pressed his palm flush against your cheek, nuzzling into its warmth and for a moment forgot what was troubling you, but you knew it couldn’t be avoided forever. “Sanji...” You whispered meekly with your eyes squeezed shut— voice quivering as if it would break like fine china. “Did you love her?” Even asking him hurt, but you had to know for your own peace of mind.

Sanji realized none of her behavior the past few weeks was about Luffy at all, and suddenly everything started to make sense. “Is that what you’ve been worried about, y/n..?” He asked sympathetically, his curly brows knit together in concern. “Hey, look at me gorgeous. I didn’t love her, okay? I Promise. I’m right where I belong.”

With his gentle consoling you couldn’t help but feel terrible for letting something so silly put so much needless tension between the two of you, but you shoo’d those pesky thoughts away and gave in, allowing yourself to look up into those breathtaking blue eyes of his.

“Let me ask you something in return, y/n... Do you love me?” Sanji asked hesitantly, afraid that you would laugh at him for even suggesting it. His luck with women in the past wasn’t exactly much to brag about, but this didn’t feel like those situations at all; you were sitting here vulnerable in front of him. “Please.. be honest with me, y/n.”

At his question the floodgates broke again and you couldn’t help but cry as you nodded, not wanting to hold it in any longer. “I do, I love you Sanji. I love you so much that it hurts to breathe sometimes.. and when I thought I lost you, especially to her—” You began to explain but were cut off almost immediately by the sudden feeling of his warm lips crashing against yours, effecting stopping any train of thought.

Sanji slid his other hand around your waist and pulled you in closer as his lips refused to part from yours; deepening the kiss instead until he felt you finally begin to relax under his touch. “You could never lose me,” he said as he pulled back slightly, lips brushing yours as he spoke again. “I love you too, y/n.”

It felt like the air in your lungs had abandoned you as you looked at him with widened eyes, feeling like you had to be imagining this, but there was no way your imagination could perfectly replicate the smell of his cologne and cigarettes or the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Let me prove it to you, my love.”

───── ⋆⋅ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋅⋆ ─────

“Mm... you’re so beautiful, y/n.” Sanji hummed against your skin as he trailed kisses down your jawline, beginning to nip and suck at the delicate skin of your neck with his teeth and eager tongue, loving the taste of you but enjoying your reactions to him even more. “Mine..”

You couldn’t help but whimper and lean your neck to the side to give him better access as he eagerly attempted to leave marks all over your neck and shoulders.

Everywhere his lips touched felt hot and filled you with a need for more, and before you knew it he was between your thighs, lifting the plush flesh over his shoulders with a hungry gaze. “S-Sanji...” You panted when you felt his lips press against your inner thighs, slowly trailing to where you needed him the most.

“Shh, my love.. let me take care of you.” Sanji vocalized as his breath fanned against you, making your stomach clench in anticipation. “I want you to keep your eyes on me, alright baby? Just relax and watch..”

He pressed a tender kiss against your clit before slowly rolling his tongue between your folds, eliciting a whine from your parted lips as you obeyed, not like you even could rip your gaze away from the sight of him between your thighs; he looked so attractive with his determined expression and flushed cheeks from the intimacy.

“Ngh, Sanji..” You sighed as he latched his mouth on your entrance—his tongue lapping against your heat while he gripped your thighs to keep your from squirming away from him. “T-That feels... r-really good..”

Knowing how easy it was to get you to talk for him now made him smirk against you before he plunged his wet muscle past your entrance, relishing in the taste of your fluttering spongy walls with a self indulgent moan as the tip of his nose nuzzled against your clit to give you some much needed friction, making your body jolt from the pleasure.

“God, you taste divine, my love..” He groaned against you before he dove back in, not caring how messy his face was getting from your slick as he explored your depths with one thing on his mind; making you feel so good that you couldn’t focus on anything but him and how much he loved you. Not Pudding — just you.

Your fingers tangled through the gorgeous gold of his hair and gripped the strands you’d always wished you could run your fingers through as you mewled and ground your hips against his mouth, aiding his tongue in reaching deeper inside of your core. “Fuck, p-please don’t stop Sanji..!” You stuttered out as you felt the heat in your abdomen grow to an almost unbearable degree as you looked down at him with a half lidded gaze, absentmindedly pushing his face into your dripping fluttering cunt.

Sanji loved that you weren’t being shy with your needs any longer because he could barely contain himself as your moans made his erection press almost uncomfortably against the mattress below you. He growled sensually and gripped your thighs tighter, pressing your pussy as close to his face as possible; wanting to make you completely lose yourself to the pleasure he provided as he rutted his hips in tandem with your desperate grinding against him.

“M-My love, I’m gonna..” Your voice came out in a low whine as your back arched beautifully off of his mattress, plush thighs clamping tightly around his head as your juices began to gush from your pussy, “Ngh oh fuck, I’m cumming Sanji..!”

Sanji’s ministrations didn’t relent however, there was no way he was going to waste even a single drop of your well deserved release. He withdrew from your walls to lap at your folds and swirl his tongue against your throbbing clit like a starved man. “Good.. that’s it my pretty girl, let go for me...” He coo’d as he greedily cleaned you.

Helpless whines of his name fell from your lips as he continued to pleasure you through your high, not being able to get enough of the adorably lewd faces you were making as you trembled and jolted from his every slow touch.

“Sanji, baby p-please...” You begged with a high pitched tone as your feet dug into his shoulders, eyes rolling back into your skull from the sensation of his touch gradually sending your body into a state of overstimulation. “I c-can’t take it.”

If this were any other situation he would’ve given in to your pleas and eased off, but he could only feel how badly he wanted.. no, needed you right now. “Mmm... I think you can, sweetheart. One more please, just for me..?” He said as he pressed kisses to your tense thighs, rubbing his hands along the bare flesh tenderly.

Goosebumps erupted along your skin as you watched him, swallowing hard before caving in to his request with a firm nod of consent. There was no way you could deny him - not when you had wanted him like this for so long.

Sanji ran a hand down between your thighs and inhaled shakily with desire as he pressed one and then another of his digits against your heat, slowly sinking inside of your walls to loosen your muscles as his mouth latched onto your engorged clit with soft kitten licks. The way you clenched around his fingers while they scissored and stretched you for him made his neglected cock twitch, but your pleasure was all that he cared about in that moment.

“Haah.. Sanji, can you please kiss me?” You begged with a yearning tone as you tugged gently on his hair to make him look at you. All you wanted in this moment was to feel closer to him - to have his body against yours.

Hearing you ask him so sweetly made his attention snap to you. He pulled away from your pussy with a trail of saliva and slick connecting his mouth to your clit before he started to trail kisses up your stomach and chest, wanting to build the tension again before he had you right where he wanted you; begging for more. “Of course, my love. I’ll do anything for you.” His hands dug into the soft flesh of your breasts and kneaded them with his fingers as his lips finally hovered over yours.

Patience was something you lacked as you draped your arms around his neck and pulled him flush against you to kiss him. You nipped his bottom lip and took the opportunity to roll your tongue into his mouth when he gasped in surprise. He tasted like a mixture of his cigarettes and your slick which, made it even more addicting to kiss him. “I need you, Sanji...” Your leg hooked over his hip to press yourself up against his erection.

That was much sooner than he had expected but he wasn’t about to deny you what you wanted, especially when you looked so cute while you were being this needy for him. “Then you’ll have me, y/n.” He said with a breathtaking smile that reached his eyes as he slipped his hand down to hook your other leg over his hip as well. “Just tell me if things get uncomfortable alright? The last thing I want to do is hurt you, my love.”

“I will, baby.” You mumbled as you nodded eagerly, locking your lips with his again as your bodies pressed together; his throbbing dick now rubbing against your folds and making your breath catch in your throat.

Sanji reached down between the two of you and guided himself to your entrance, slowly pressing into your heat inch by inch with a sensual moan as your gummy walls squeezed his cock. “You’re so tight, my love..” He growled sensually as he bottomed out and began to gradually thrust in and out of you to get you accustomed to him. “You look so pretty taking my cock like this.. My pretty girl.”

You winced a little as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his girth but the pain was gone almost as quickly as it had surfaced due to his mindful attentive movements; it was clear he was constantly being considerate of your pleasure even with his rapidly crumbling restraint. “Ahn.. Sanji, h-harder please..” Your voice was timid, not yet used to making demands of him in the bedroom.

“What was that, my love? You’ll have to speak up.” He said with a smirk as he kept the same pace, leaning forward to latch his mouth on the delicate skin under your jaw, trailing pretty bruises down to your shoulder that he could admire later. “Use that pretty voice of yours.”

“F-Fuck... Please, please go harder!” You whined as you bucked your hips up against his, pressing his cock deeper inside of you but at nowhere near the roughness that you craved. “Please don’t tease me baby, I need you!”

There it was again - those beautiful magic words that flipped Sanji’s switch and made him want to give you everything you could possibly handle. His grip tightened on your hips as his rhythm picked up, causing lewd slapping and pleasurable panting to fill the silence around them. “Can’t leave my pretty girl unsatisfied now, can I?” He hummed as he watched your eyes roll back from the faster pace. “Tell me, how does it feel my love?”

“S-So good..!” You choked out as his tip repeatedly battered against the entrance to your cervix, a ring of your arousal building up around the base of his shaft. “D-Don’t stop!” You slid your arms around his back, fingers digging into his shoulders and causing thin scratch marks to form down his back as you clawed him.

“Good girl.” Sanji groaned and leaned down to kiss you deeply as he felt the last of his restraint burst into flames. He began to pound himself into you so roughly that your legs were forced apart as you were fucked senseless into the mattress. He knew he was getting close but he couldn’t stop when you felt this heavenly. “God you feel amazing, sweetheart..”

All your fucked out mind could manage to utter was mindlessly babbled praise and cries of his name as his thrusts brought you to the edge once more, your walls fluttering around his cock as your legs locked behind him. “Ah..! M’gonna cum Sanji...”

“I know you are, my love... Cum for me.” Sanji commanded softly as he slowed his pace but continued to roughly slam his hips against yours, chasing his own high as you looked up at him with teary overstimulated eyes. He slipped a hand down to rub his finger gently against your throbbing clit. “You did so well. Such a good job for me, my love..”

Hearing him praise you like that while providing the added stimulation against your sensitive nerves made you cry out again and tremble as the tension within you finally snapped practically making you see stars. You reached a powerful climax, squirting your slick all over his cock and soaking the blanket and mattress beneath you in the process with your cum. “Ngh..! I love you, Sanji.” You whimpered before your exhausted body crumpled back down against the bed.

Sanji wasn’t far behind you, moaning as he felt your pussy milking him, but it was your sweet voice telling him that you loved him that sent him over the edge. “I love you too, y/n.” He panted as he sloppily thrusted into your spent pussy a few more times before pressing his hips firmly against you, dick twitching and spilling his release deep inside.

He then followed suit and collapsed on top of you, taking the utmost care to not crush you with his body weight. “God, I love you so much.” He said as he peppered tender kisses across your cheeks, chin, nose, and then finally pressing an affectionate lingering kiss to your sweet swollen lips. “Every inch of you, my love.”

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©HowlTheSanjiSimp. Please do not copy, modify, translate, repost or promote my writing or graphics on other platforms. Please DO feel free to comment, reblog or follow <3

[animehideout]

A Deal ( Ryomen Sukuna X Reader )

Part 5

part 6 here.

Part 4 here.

a/n: I hope you enjoy this part as well, sorry for taking too long to post this chap. →Since I didn't choose the ending yet, would you like a HAPPY ending ( with either Sukuna / Gojo ) or ANGST ??? ✨

you can vote here concerning the ending

Warnings: SMUT NSFW MDNI , oral sex giving 🔞⚠️

“I won't allow it.. Y/n won't leave with you” said Sukuna as his intimidating form approached both of you.

Turning his hands into fists, “With this treasure.. I summon..” started Megumi, but you quickly stopped him, and stood in front of him.

“Hah! summoning Mahoraga? is this how you thank me for giving you your body back.. completely harmless? how foolish” Mocked Sukuna.

“HE WILL LEAVE” you said, trying to protect Megumi, you turned around facing him “Go Megumi I-”

“No, not without you..”

“No please, trust me” you whispered, giving him a comforting smile.

One of Sukuna's four arms reached yours, pulling you to stand next to him. His second arm wrapped tightly around your waist,

“See Megumi! she is my property now..so you better leave before my mercy fades away”

You gulped as Sukuna started threatening your bestfriend, your eyes pleading him to leave this cursed place. You nodded trying to tell him that you'll be okay. Finally, after putting all of your nerves on the edge, Megumi left.

A wave of relief and depression washed over you. Relieved that Megumi is finally free, safe and soon he'll be reunited with your loved ones. But depressed because now you're utterly and completely alone. Before despite Sukuna taking control over Megumi's body, you still can feel him there, hiding somewhere deep.

A teat rolled down your cheek, oh how much you wanted to leave with him, and pretend that all of what happened was just a nasty nightmare and finally you'll be in Gojo's embrace all safe and sound.

“You agreed to let me see them one last time, why did you change your mind now?” you said in a monotone, eyes looking down.

“Huh? who said I changed my mind? I'm keeping my promise, but you won't go woth Megumi cuz I'm the one who'll be taking you, wait for you and leave again with you” he explained.

“Aren't you scared that Jujutsu sorcerers might execute you? you know they'd be prepared” you asked

“Me? scared of humans? Don't be silly now little one” he answered in a mocking low-tone.

His grip tightened around you, his other arms turned your body, your chest bumping with his. The moment you made eye contact with his glowing red eyes, electricity ran through your system, heart almost jumping out of your throat, his huge up close form scared you away and now you realize how silly you were to ask a stupid question like that...He is indeed the King Of Curses.

You flinched away but he held you in place,

“No don't be scared now, kitten. You know I won't kill you” he laughed enjoying your intimidated face, “I'll keep on sparing your soul as long as you keep behaving like the good girl you are ..right ? my sorcerer? ”he added.

Your hands shaking, forehead dripping with cold sweats, you couldn't do anything but nod.

“W-when are we g-going?” you managed to ask.

“Tomorrow night ..I take you to Jujutsu high”

A flame of hope lit up in your heart, maybe Jujutsu sorceress do something maybe, Gojo doesn't hold back like last time cuz it was Megumi's body and kill Sukuna this time. Maybe finally he'll free you from your misery, and wakes you up from this horrible nightmare, so you can live in your sweet dream that you've had with Satoru.

His long fingers reached your face, running his sharp fingernails on your soft skin and your jawline leaving a trace,

“But for now why don't you focus on me” he started.

“not again” you thought to yourself, you were already sore he just fucked you moments ago, your legs still shaking. As much as he filled you with pleasure you won't let him inside you this time.

“Don't you want to have a taste of this?” he added, taking off what was covering his bottom side revealing his two huge cocks.

You almost shocked at the sight if them, your mind running with thoughts wondering if he could fit both of them in your little hole. If he does, he won't only stretch you out he will tear you in half.

As much as you hate it, you couldn't help all the nasty ideas you've got only by one look, eager to test it.

“Like what you see? now why don't you get on your knees and please me? this body must be worshipped by someone and that someone is..you” he smiled,

as he sat on the edge of the bed pushing you down in a kneeling position,

“Let me see you struggle to fit all of this inside your pretty mouth”

Your hands found their way around his first cock while your mouth welcomed his second. Your fingers ran along his hardening length, rubbing it. Trying to please both of them equally.

His hand held the back of your head pushing you forward making his dick go deep inside your throat, making you choke and gag, tears forming in your eyes as you struggled to suck all of him.

Groans and low growls escaped his mouth from all the pleasure, throwing his head back driven by the thoughts of you swallowing his real body's seeds,

“Come on little sorcerer... don't fucking stop”

Taglist 🫶🏻✨:

@kiki17483 @bellagum @certainduckpalaceland @darlax @bontensbabygirl @aquatufana @saiyara05

[audliminal]

It's barely the end of the first day of school, and three faculty members are dead. Nobody knows much yet, but supposedly the six freshman who all managed to get detention on the very first day of school were involved and, if the rumors are to be believed, two of them actually died. In a dumb fight in the cafeteria against some animated corn. Kipperlily rolls her eyes when she hears it. They're clearly a bunch of losers who are going to either drop out or get someone killed before the year is out, but that's not really her problem, is it?

Still, just to be on the safe side, maybe their party should spend some time in the woods behind the school, and get some practice in with rats and things before they find themselves involved in a fight like those dumb detention kids did.

It's a month into the school year, and Kipperlily's starting to get the hang of things. She's feeling comfortable in a fight now, they've been killing rats and twig gremlins in the Far Haven Woods as often as they can manage, and they're getting really good at it. They even have a name now, the High 5 Heroes, chosen by Kipperlily herself, of course.

Meanwhile, Kipperlily's pretty sure the kids from detention actually killed someone, though nobody seems to be talking about it. Kipperlily doesn't care what anyone says, she's heard multiple people say they saw members of their group talking to Penelope Sam and Johnny spells, and then the day after Johnny Spells gets killed in a fucking car chase, the rich kid, who's literally the son of a pirate, has a mysterious new motorcycle? It's all far too suspicious.

It's the week after winter break, and Kipperlily is stuck in the stupid guidance councilor's office, talking about her dumb feelings. Unlike the Bad Kids (and what kind of stupid name is that), who apparently had an adventure dropped in their lap within minutes of the first school day ending, Kipperlily has been waiting months and still nothing has popped up. Plus Oisin and Ivy keep joking about changing their party name to the Rat Grinders.

It's dumb. Who would want a party name that's based on some joke? Besides, she already chose the name. So why on earth would they change it now? At least Lucy seems to agree with her about it.

It's just days after prom, and Kipperlily is sick of everything. The stupid Bad Kids apparently crashed prom and literally defeated Kalvaxus, Emperor of the Red Waste. It's honestly bullshit. A dumb group of kids that couldn't even make it through one day of school without getting one third of their party killed, and they're being credited with saving the entire continent? Kipperlily's been digging into the Bad Kids' history with every moment of her free time, trying to figure out how a bunch of dumb untrained kids managed something so huge. And she thinks she might have cracked it.

Kristen Applebees is literally Helio's Chosen One, and apparently Adaine Abernant is the new Oracle of the Elves. Kipperlily doesn't know what Fig, Fabian, or Gorgug's deals are yet, but if rumors are to be believed, then Riz Gukgak's dad was eaten by the very same Kalvaxus. Clearly the entire reason the Bad Kids are succeeding is because of their personal histories.

And to make matters worse, Oisin and Ivy managed to get the rest of the party to go along with the stupid Rat Grinders name. and Mary Ann didn't even have a reason for it! The only one who voted with her was Lucy. So now they've got a dumb name and no real adventuring prospects, and all the while, a bunch of kids who skip classes and get arrested are somehow getting perfect grades with no effort.

It's sophomore year and everything is terrible. The Rat Grinders meet every day to kill rats in the woods and it's dumb and boring, and not even a little bit difficult anymore, and she has to go to weekly councilor sessions with Jawbone, who's an ally of her rival adventuring party, which. Aguefort already clearly likes them, and even before he was resurrected they had managed to get two of their allies positions in the school. Which has to be an unfair advantage. And now Fig's dad is the vice principal rather than the lunch lad. It's really no wonder they never seem to get in trouble for skipping classes or any of their other bullshit.

At least she can use their connection with Jawbone to her advantage. Every meeting with him, she mines him for new information on the Bad Kids, who have been doing absolutely nothing so far this year.

It's sophomore year and The Rat Grinders are going to finally get their chance! Porter and Jace have approached her with the opportunity of a lifetime! Porter even said she shows a lot of promise! He doesn't even seem to take issue with his anger, and he says that he's going to help her become an amazing adventurer. All she has to do is accept this weird little rage star thing and start worshipping some dead god of rage. Kipperlily honestly isn't that much into religion, but this is the first interesting thing to happen to her all day. She's already working to convince Lucy to change her god.

It's sophomore year and even as Kipperlily is finally making progress, the Bad Kids are still showing her up. Somehow, they ended up fighting the Nightmare King himself, defeating him and somehow in the process, Kristen Applebees managed to ressurect a dead god of her own. It's bullshit and literally the only reason they manage to get back in time for the end of spring break is the direct intervention of the principal again. Plus now Fig has somehow managed to become an Archdevil and start dating Principal Aguefort's daughter. As if she wasn't already a rockstar.

It's sophomore year and Kipperlily's going to make the Rat Grinders the best adventuring party at Aguefort, even if it kills her.

It's junior year and the Bad Kids seemed determined to ruin her life. It's bullshit. They literally didn't even know who she was before this year, and they seem determined to ruin everything she's working towards. On the first day of school, they all collectively decided that Kristen was going to run for school president, seemingly as a bit, the exact second that they find out she's running. And immediately on meeting her they made fun of her fucking name for literally no reason.

It's junior year and everything's going to plan. Kristen's been expelled, and the Bad Kids are taking The Last Stand, and they've got the perfect opportunity to get rid of all the Bad Kids for good. And yet somehow Kristen fucking Applebees manages to ruin their fucking plans perfectly, spotting her out before she can succeed in killing the proctor and Buddy. Instead she has to kill Buddy and let Oisin take her away before the Bad Kids can do anything. So of course the Bad Kids get a literal perfect score on The Last Stand, and now they've all aced their classes for the whole year.

It's junior year and they're summoning a dead god. It's junior year and they find out as they're casting the spell, that the name they'd gotten was fucking wrong. It's junior year and despite all their preparations the Bad Kids have managed to get to the gymnasium with all their stupid fucking votes. It's junior year and Kipperlily is at least going to kill Riz. It's junior year and Riz literally dives into lava.

It's junior year and Kipperlily's going to kill Riz. He thinks he's hiding, but she can see him, and she's going to have to close with him, but this is her opportunity, and then she's in the air, and he's got her in a hold person spell, and she's falling, and she's in the lava, and it's so hot, and it burns, and then it's all gone.

It's junior year and Kipperlily is dead. It's junior year and she's in a world of crystal spines and lava, and in the reflections of the crystals, Kipperlily can see everything. She sees herself in those wretched meetings with jawbone, kicking at the leg of the chair, and she can see Jawbone asking her every fucking time, what can she do to become a better adventurer. As if it was ever in her control. As if she ever could have done anything. As if it wasn't all about her backstory the whole time. As if she weren't the boring daughter of two boring people. As if she had ever had a chance.

"Did you ever try?" She hears a voice ask. And then Ankarna is there. The god that she tried so hard to kill. "Did you ever really try to become a better adventurer, or did you just wait for it to happen to you?"

"I did everything I could!" Kipperlily insists. "It's unfair, why should they get all the advantages?"

"Were they really ever advantages? Or did you just decide they were?"

"You think those idiots deserved their success? All they ever do is screw around!"

"That is not what I have seen of them. Nor have I seen any better of you. Of course, you did your schoolwork and you did it to the letter, but when did you ever challenge yourself? When did you ever take a risk? When did you ever seek out a task that was more than what you felt certain you would succeed at? Would you have even have the courage to take part in Porter's plan if he had not personally trained you, ensured that you were all as powerful as possible? You insist that the Bad Kids are only successful because of their tragic history, but what of Gorgug? There is not one thing in his past that drives him and yet he has succeeded at doing things no one else has ever managed." Ankarna stares long and hard at her, and then she is gone and Kipperlily is alone again. With nothing in her death but her own thoughts to keep her company.

[robthegoodfellow]

Make Me Feel Mighty Real 1/?

follow up to praise kink soft dom Steve uber sub Billy fic (also on Ao3) from last year's Kinktober event. the boys play around with total power exchange. tagging @gigacat and @makeadealwithdean because i remember you liking the original 💛

no porn yet. pre-porn.

Billy didn’t want him to ask how his last exams went. Didn’t want him to mention his classes at all—a complete erasure of the last few weeks of compulsive flash cards and study guides and late nights at the library. He’d been mumbling psych terminology in his sleep, tossing and turning, and gnawed on so many pencils his desk seemed occupied by a tiny beaver.

Over the past however long since Billy had become his… well, his—his good boy, his baby, his first thought on waking, his to have and to hold in a sense felt more deeply than tying the knot, in a sense that transcended all he’d ever known of how two people could be together and frankly still knocked him breathless when he thought about it too much—anyway, since all that began, Steve had come to view his life as though through this peculiar prism.

Certain facets were as they’d been before, like now: soldiering through the numbers at work, making nice with surrounding cubicles, acting the part of the straight-laced office drone, diligent and dull as dirt. He’d been voted Best Hair at the office Christmas party not just because his hair was objectively magnificent but also because that was all anyone knew about him. By design.

He did his work, got paid, and the moment he left the building, Office Steve shut off. Some people centered their lives around a vocation, and some joined the rat race, scrambling to pull even, pull ahead. Then there were people like his dad, where career success determined your entire worth—your net worth all that mattered.

Steve was none of those things. Swore to himself he never would be.

So Office Steve had already been separate from the rest, from the facets of himself he valued most: the person he was with friends, with family, with girlfriends. The person he was just hanging out at home.

And he’d been content with those facets for so long… until Billy. Until something about Billy turned the prism and a flash of light unveiled a side of himself he’d never known was there, alongside the others, patiently waiting for that beam of recognition at exactly the right angle.

Billy dropping to his knees, face angled up, lashes low, eyes locked where Steve’s cock strained the denim.

Standing there, towering like he’d never towered before—looming, imposing, imperative—Steve had never felt so firmly seated inside himself. In command.

It was hard to explain. He’d been puzzling it through for months, but all he knew was that, these days, with every step he took up the stairwell to their apartment, something in him shifted, bestowed this clarity of need and means, so by the time he reached their door, crossed the threshold, he practically thrummed with it.

That day, knowing what he might find upon entering, the thrum heightened to a subdermal buzz, so intense he had to pause on the Welcome mat, breathe deep and slow. In control.

Billy was inside, would have finished his last exam an hour ago. And last night, as they drifted to sleep, he’d mumbled what he wanted, what Steve had been probing him for—what he wanted to do, how he wanted to celebrate, once exams were over.

Could we do… you in charge?

Like that evening in late summer, he meant, when they’d toyed with total obedience, Steve at the reins of every decision, free to follow any whim—unless Billy signaled yellow, they’d decided. Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.

Me in charge tomorrow night? Steve asked, his blood already rushing at the thought, the memory.

Maybe. Billy had turned, nuzzled into Steve’s side, more snuggly under his arm. And maybe… try for longer? At Steve’s enquiring hum, a teasing lilt, he’d huffed, finally said it straight out: You in charge all day.

Steve hummed again, low rumble in the chest, and trailed fingers up Billy’s spine to hook in his necklace, twine the chain until it hugged his bobbing throat.

Saturday? Steve asked.

Depended on where his head was at, Billy said. If he was up for it, they could start early. Start Friday. And see how it went.

Baby’ll be honest?

Billy nodded—more accurately, rubbed his cheek at Steve’s ribs.

Baby’ll be where he wants? When I get home?

On his knees, if he wanted to start.

Billy nodded.

On the welcome mat, Steve exhaled once more. Unlocked the door.

Billy didn’t move from where he knelt on the floor, facing the couch, his shoulders at ease, hands on his thighs. He was in the same clothes from that morning—jeans and sweater. One of Steve’s.

The TV was on, volume low, a blurred murmur beyond the pulse pounding in his ears.

Steve closed the door behind him. Locked it.

“Look at me,” he said, and Billy did, turning his head, gaze skirting the floor to find Steve’s shoes. Watched as Steve toed off the shoes, as he approached, silent socks on the soft blue carpet.

Steve sank fingers into messy curls, angled the head to see Billy’s face. Thumb brushed beneath his eye, and though the lashes rose, the baby blues were soft and spacey.

“Color.”

Not a question. Billy blinked, slow to process. Steve stroked his hair.

“Green.” He said it quiet, on a breath.

Even unfocused, his boy had this ravenous quality, like his eyes, his ears, his every sense were sponges primed to soak it up, suck in Steve’s smile, the pleased curve, and Steve’s words, just as pleased, and soft.

“Good boy.”

Next