#I ALWAYS DO THIS TO MYSELF L OL

[cupidscorpsee]

You Missed the Damn Line

WC - 5,642 / 21 minute read

Warnings - Smut / 18+ content throughout / feminine terms used for reader

A/N: i’m ashamed of myself 0_0

In which you, an actress, are due for a sex scene with Hugh Jackman, but he has a better idea.

You tried your best, you really did, but they were simply not buying it.

“Cut!” the director yelled, letting out a frustrated sigh as he walked up to the two actors on set. “What the fuck was that, L/N?”

You laughed awkwardly despite the director’s clear irritation. “You’re kidding. You’re making this impossible.”

Hugh sits up, careful not to ruin his carefully-messed up hair. He nodded in agreement. “Nothing’s good enough for you, mate.”

“Nothing’s good—” He scoffs, cutting himself off before he could finish mocking Hugh. “It’ll be good enough when you two get your shit together and shoot a good fucking sex scene.”

The director walks back to the camera and the intimacy coordinator beside it—a kind woman with a death glare pointed at the director. She sighed and looked back to the set. “Alright, you two. L/N, how are you doing? You comfortable?”

You sigh and lay back on the bed, staring up at the fake ceiling for this fake house in this fake movie that you were faking your way through. The life of an actress seemed to be a never-ending series of pretending to be someone you’re not. “I’m just peachy.”

The intimacy coordinator hums. “What about you, Hugh?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as that ol’ dag learns to be less of a prick,” Hugh mutters.

It was quite amusing to see Hugh this way, you will admit. He wasn’t usually so grumpy on set. In fact, he tended to be the sunshine in the movie-making cloud of darkness. Your countless camcorder videos of him cracking jokes or simply making a fool of himself behind the scenes proved he was always the life of the party.

“Jesus Christ,” the director groans. “Let’s just shoot the damn scene already.”

The intimacy coordinator rushes up to the two actors, ensuring everything from comfort, consent, modesty garments, and props are sufficiently in place, and then jogs back to the director’s side.

The director stood at the monitor, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the blocking for the scene. He was known for his meticulous attention to detail, and today was no different. Except, of course, he was a tad bit more intense at the moment. He turned to the crew and began giving instructions that neither you or Hugh could quite make out.

Hugh smiled at you, trying to ease the tension he knew you were feeling. “How ya feeling? Really.”

You cracked a smile, amused by his way of noticing when you were lying to the crew about your true emotions. “Tired and cranky. You?”

He shrugged. “Could use some supper, but other than that, I’m quite alright.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Nothing about this situation is pissing you off? You’re really alright right now?”

He grins. “Yes. Bloody Oath.”

You smile softly. “Honestly, I’m really fucking nervous right now. I’ve never done this kind of scene before.”

“What about your first film? Ripe Age, was it?”

You grin. “Little secret…? That was a body double filming the sex scene for me.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow and lets out a surprised huh sound. He then nodded in understanding, considering your words and putting together why you’d be nervous. He’d been in a few sex scenes before, but each one was different. Each acting partner brought their own energy and concerns. “I see, well… I’m right here with ya and we’ve got a bloody good team. Aside from Director Dickwad, of course.”

You laugh softly, not wanting to attract the director’s attention.

Just then, the intimacy coordinator approaches you two with her signature calm and kind demeanor. “Hey, L/N, Mr. Jackman, the director wants to go over everything one more time before we try again. Just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

The woman pulls up a prop chair from the room and sits at your eye level. You and Hugh listen to her intently, not wanting to miss something and having to re-shoot again. You’d done this scene enough times by now. “Okay, so we’ve discussed boundaries and comfort levels. Let’s revisit the choreography to make sure everything feels right.”

The woman held up the shot list and walked you two through the steps, just as one might for a complex dance sequence. You almost laughed at the notion of this being like a dance. Everything felt so ridiculous.

After a quick summary, the intimacy coordinator asks you two to get back into your positions for the scene. You slip back into your usual spots with ease. The woman guides you with gentle touches, adjusting a hand here, a foot there, ensuring your movements would look as natural as possible on camera while staying within your agreed limits.

You became hyper-aware of the small distance between your bodies—the way Hugh’s hand rested lightly on your waist, the heat of his skin warming yours through the thin, nude-colored underwear you wore.

“Remember,” the intimacy coordinator said after she was satisfied with their positions, her voice even, “this is a slow, intimate moment between two lovers who have missed each other very much.”

Hugh nodded, his focus remaining on you underneath him. “Right. We’ll take it slow.”

Your breath hitched softly at this. It was strangely comforting to know that he could see right through you and how you wanted so badly for everyone to be patient with you. “Yeah. Slow is good.”

The woman clapped, snapping you out of your moment of admiration for Hugh. “Alright, let’s get ready.”

The room was quieter than usual—a closed set. Only a few key crew members stood under the dimmed studio lights. The typical whispering and hum of equipment were replaced by a focused stillness. The room was dressed to look like an apartment bedroom—plush pillows under your head on a wide bed, soft lighting that cast warm shadows, and milky-white curtains that would sway with an unseen breeze after post-production.

You wore an almost translucent strapless bra, your nipples covered with nude-toned patches, and seamless nude underwear. Hugh, with a similar setup, wore modesty garments designed to appear as if he was—like you—fully exposed while still maintaining dignity. The garments, though strange and small, felt like a shield of some sort—a reminder that this wasn’t as invasive as it felt.

“Places,” the director called, and the set fell silent. The intimacy coordinator positioned herself by the monitor, ready to catch every detail. The director rested his chin in his palm, scratching his beard one, twice, before finally calling:

“Action.”

You and Hugh did everything again. The same exact choreographed movements you both had practiced. You focused on doing better than before, trying to make your rehearsed sounds and muttered lines seem real for the screen. Every touch and movement from Hugh was gentle and deliberate, ensuring you two stayed within the boundaries you had set beforehand. The scene was intimate, but the atmosphere between your near-nude bodies remained respectful and professional.

You moved together, your bodies close but never truly touching in the most vulnerable areas. You could feel the heat of Hugh’s breath against your neck as he leaned down, your movements slow and deliberate. Your fingers trailed down his bare back, your touch light, guided by the choreography you had rehearsed. You tried to focus on the script’s emotions—the longing, the fleeting connection…

The sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric beneath you, and the soft creak of the bed were the only things you heard—all blending into the story you were trying to tell.

Hugh cupped your face in his right palm, his thumb brushing your skin in a gesture that was more tender than you expected. It was a small, unscripted moment, but it made the scene feel real. Almost too real.

You falter and miss your line—an important mumble of the words, I cease to exist without you near me. Your eyes widen as you realize your idiotic mistake.

“Cut!” the director calls, the annoyance in his voice far from hidden. “You missed the damn line. We’re taking a break. I need a fucking cigarette.”

Hugh gets off you and you sit up, fighting the urge to literally face-palm right then and there. You groan softly, embarrassed by your own blunder.

Hugh is quick to apologize. “I should’ve stuck to the script. I threw you off—”

“No, no, I wasn’t focused enough,” you interrupted, shaking your head. You exhaled a frustrated breath and covered your face in your palms. You wanted to disappear. Your words came out muffled as you spoke again. “Jesus, I wish we could just have actual sex. At least it would be convincing.”

There’s a strange silence that follows and you have to peek through your fingers just to make sure you didn’t somehow fall off the face of the planet and into the void of outer space. Hugh is staring down at the mattress underneath his rested hand, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. You raise an eyebrow. “Hugh…?”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable, but not unkind. “What if we bail on this whole choreography nonsense? The director hardly knows how to write a bloody script. I wouldn’t be surprised if that dole bludger has never had sex before in his entire life.”

You stare at him blankly before blinking once, then twice. “What are you proposing?”

“Have you ever seen 9 Songs? Or Shortbus?”

You shake your head.

“The actors had unsimulated sex in order to portray their characters more efficiently. Of course, they had to sign contracts and consider possible strict scrutiny from the rating boards, but…”

You nearly laugh but grow red in the face when you notice his lack of humor. He’s serious? “You’re serious?”

He nods. “I… It’s a little mad, but we’re getting nowhere with this scene right now.”

Your throat goes dry. “This isn’t just some ruse to get laid, right? Some fucked up fantasy?”

“It isn’t.”

“You swear?”

“Bloody Oath.”

“I don’t know what that means,” you whisper, your voice somewhat emotionless as you’re too busy in a whirlwind of thoughts to pay much attention to anything else.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a hint of his own nerves peeking through. “Ah, it’s a form of saying ‘of course’ or ‘definitely’. Aussie shite.”

“The media will go crazy for this when they find out,” you say, completely ignoring his explanation. It didn’t even register. It went in through one ear and out the other. “The movie will be controversial. We’ll be controversial.”

He smiles and cracks another joke. “A little controversy never hurt anybody.”

Yes, it fucking did, you think, but you don’t say anything. You simply consider his idea. It’s insane. It’s mental. It’s lock-you-up-in-a-psych-ward crazy.

But it’s tempting.

After all, any press is good press, right?

“We should talk to Aimee,” you say, gesturing at the intimacy coordinator who was sipping now-cold coffee from a mug that read, Teaching is my superpower, what’s yours? It didn’t make any fucking sense and for some reason that pissed you off more than the stupidity of this decision did.

Hugh nods and then huffs slightly. “It was just an idea, though, mate. It’s a bit reckless. We sincerely don’t have to.”

“Hugh.”

Silence. A beat of hesitation. “Yeah, mate?”

“Let’s get our movie done.”

You walk up to the intimacy coordinator, asking to speak to her in private. You enter the director’s empty office, borrowing his space. The woman sips her coffee and then sets it down on the brown desk beside you two, waiting for you to speak.

“Have you seen 9 Songs?”

She stares at you, a dumbfounded expression quickly replaced by one of steady firmness. “Absolutely not. L/N, no. Do you know what that could mean for this film?”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly. “Aimee, we’ve been shooting this same fucking scene for weeks. This is the climax of the movie. It’s a pivotal moment. You can’t have a movie about transformative romantic and sexual intimacy without a convincing sex scene.”

Aimee raises an eyebrow. “You’ve analyzed the script?”

“I’ve read the damn book we’re adapting.”

“We’d have to change the rating from R to NC-17 or X, L/N.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… talk to the director. He’ll be the one to give you the green light.”

You nod.

————————————————————————

“Are you a fucking imbecell?”

“It’s actually pronounced ‘imbecile’, sir, and, uh, no. I’m not. I’m serious. This—” You snatch the worn, slightly bent script from the director’s free hand, his other one holding a lit cigarette, “This here is a fucking work of art that you’ve got. Hugh and I are committed to it. We want it as much as you do. As much as the thousands of fans who read the book are. People deserve a loyal adaptation.”

The director looks at you, stunned silent by the sudden balls you’ve grown. “You want the Wolverine to fuck you on camera for everyone to see?”

You shove the script to his chest, holding it there with the palm of your hand. “You’re damn right I do. I’m not letting you fuck up this movie.”

He clears his throat, takes a long drag from his cigarette, and then quotes, “‘Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.’”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Fine,” he says shortly. He drops his half-done cigarette on the concrete floor and stomps on it with his shoe, like a kid murdering a helpless ant just because he can. “But we’ll have to change the rating of the film. Expect less raving reviews and more controversy-fueled attention. You’re not winning a damn Oscar from this, kid. That’s out the window now.”

“So be it.”

“Tell Aimee to get the necessary paperwork to you and Mr. Jackman in thirty minutes. We’re finishing this godforsaken scene today.”

————————————————————————

“Okay, and…” Aimee starts, stacking the signed contracts atop each other before holding them together with a paperclip, “…there we go. All set. I hope you know that this is fucking insane.”

Hugh leans back in his chair. “I’d say it’s time I take a risk in my career. Can’t always rely on my X-Men reputation to carry me afloat.”

You roll your eyes. “Says the veteran actor.”

“If forty plus years of acting makes me veteran, what does that make you?” Hugh asks with a playful look.

“The total opposite.”

“Guys, please. Get a damn room,” Aimee interrupts. “Okay, so, the room will be empty while you two… Yeah. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. The cameras will be running the whole time as soon as I leave the room. Post-production is gonna have a helluva lot of fun with this shit.”

“They’ll have ‘shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks’,” the director says suddenly, having been sitting beside Aimee but mindlessly scrolling through his phone the entire time, seemingly uninterested in the legal, paperwork process.

“Do you always quote Heathers?” you ask, more amused than truly interested.

“Whenever possible.”

Aimee scoffs and then stands. “Let’s go get you geniuses ready on set. ‘Come on, it’ll be very.’”

The director smirks at the intimacy coordinator’s quick, witty use of reference.

They head back to the set and the crew fixes up the cameras and lighting before leaving Aimee, Hugh, you, and the director alone in the room. The director inspects the cameras before humming in satisfaction. “Fuck the choreography, then. Just… keep the characters in mind, please. Use your lines. I’m not paying you two to fuck on my set for no reason.”

Hugh smirks. “See ya in a bit, ol’ cobber.”

The director waves him off and leaves the room, Aimee following suit after a brief reminder of consent and safety rules. Soon enough, you and Hugh are left on the set alone, the cameras running and expectant.

Hugh sits on the bed. All the foreplay scenes were already shot and done a few days back, meaning they didn’t have to act anything like that out anymore. The only part they were missing was the sex. Just the undressing, the friction, the orgasms, and that was that.

“Come here,” Hugh whispers, his voice slipping into his impressive, fake American accent. You admired the way he could get into character so easily.

You walk up to him and stand in between his legs as he sits at the edge of the mattress. His hands make contact with your waist almost immediately, the thin robe with the production company’s logo on it riding up as his hands follow the curve and dip of your hips. You bite your bottom lip and watch his face as he feels you up. Somehow, it’s different than before. His fingers burn holes in your skin, making you feel jolts of both confusion and excitement.

If all the foreplay scenes were done with, why was he acting this way?

He grips her hips tighter, a small squeeze following suit before his fingers graze over the tied strings up front. “May I?”

You nod, not saying a word. This was new. So very new. None of this so far would even be in the film. Why would he bother?

He tugs at one of the strings and watches as your robe falls open, revealing the bare skin beneath, no modesty garments in place at all this time around.

He sucks in a breath, letting his gaze stare shamelessly at your exposed breasts. He leans forward and kisses each one softly. It’s a tender, gentle touch that you wouldn’t have expected from a co-star doing his job. “Hugh…”

He hums, his lips still grazing over your chest with no rest.

“Why are you… Do you need to tell me something?” you ask softly.

Hugh takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks softly, swirling his tongue around it in a curious motion before pulling back, looking up at you in an expression of dropped reserve. All his honesty was going to come out. You could tell from the look on his face. He didn’t even hesitate, simply looked at you, his eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other, down to your lips, and then back up again—a smooth, triangular motion. “Perhaps I’m very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it.”

“Perhaps?”

“I am very fond of you and have been purposefully hiding it,” he says with a tone of finality, as if that explains everything. And in a way, it does. The secret glances you’ve shared over the months of filming together, the careful, tender touches and holds at red carpets and promo interviews, the flirtatious joking and banter… You wrote everything off as friendly, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?

Hugh slides the robe off your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor with a nearly-soundless landing. Completely exposed before him, you can’t help but feel a tad shy. Your eyes rake over Hugh’s shirtless, hairy chest and tight-fitting sweats that barely stop the hem of his boxers from peeking out above his waistline. He pulls you in closer, his fingers trailing up from the back of your leg to your waist to your stomach to your breasts to your neck to your jaw, and then back down the same way they came.

You suck in a breath as two fingers follow the crease of where your upper thigh met groin. You stifle a small, but audible moan at the chills his fingers send through you.

He hums and moves his hands to rest on your hips once again. “Is that all it takes?”

Yes.

You gasp softly when Hugh’s grip on your hips tighten before he sets you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours, essentially caging you in. He pulls his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion, kicking them off like they did something to personally offend him. You feel his erection pressing against your leg and stiffen slightly.

He leans his head down quickly, but stops just above your face, his lips grazing over yours when he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you direly.”

Your heart skips a beat and it takes you a moment to register that he’s speaking lines from the script, back in character.

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue claiming your mouth’s entrance as if it belonged there and couldn’t believe it had been away for so long. He pushes his body closer against yours, pinning you to the soft mattress as he pours all his pent-up desire and need into the kiss. It doesn’t take long for his lips to lose their way and explore other paths you have to offer. His mouth kisses along your jaw and neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he goes.

“Been dreamin’ of this,” he pants, his damn good false-American voice hoarse as he kisses along your collarbone now. “Dreamin’ of havin’ you again. Been drivin’ me mad every night in the trenches, doll.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching under his touch. Every kiss felt like an invasion of privacy—but one you could very much live with. You needed to remember your lines. Come on. What was the damn line?

Right.

“You have no idea,” you gasp between kisses, his attack on your swollen lips refusing to relent even as you attempt to speak, “how many nights I’ve thought about this… About you. About us.”

He pushes a finger into your wet cunt without warning, as if rewarding you for remembering your lines so quickly this time. When had his hand even gone down there? He growls against your skin at the feel of your wetness around his finger, his free hand grasping your hip to bring you closer.

“I thought about it all the time,” he mutters, gently moving his finger back and forth in a slow pattern. His voice is ragged as he kisses along your jaw. “Thought about you, how you felt under me, how you sounded when I touched you… I was going insane with it.”

You gasp slightly between pants, but he barely lets you catch your breath before his lips are back on yours. He pulls his finger out abruptly, running it down your side, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

“Couldn’t get you out of my head,” he whispers, his voice still rough. His hand slams down against the space of mattress beside your head, a temporary loss of temper on display. Right. This is his character, you remind yourself. “Damn it, doll, I fuckin’ need you. I need to feel you, to taste you… I need you to be mine again. Fuck the war, fuck the politics… I can’t be without you tonight. Just for tonight.”

You nod softly, the action causing your lips to separate from his. He takes the opportunity to kiss over your closed eyelid and then the top of your head—an unscripted act that leaves your face burning. “I cease to exist without you near me.”

He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off before he can even begin by wrapping your legs around his hips, an unscripted act to counterattack his. He groans as he feels your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer to you. The feeling of having your thighs on either side of him, the soft flesh squishing against his hip bones, has his head spinning. He smirks against your lips, realizing his mistake but not stopping. What’s one line missed, anyway?

His hand moves down to his cock and you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel him line himself up with your entrance. Things had escalated so quickly that it had your brain reeling. Hugh leans down so his head is right beside your ear. He whispers just loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for post-production to be able to remove his out-of-character question with barely any trouble: “Is this okay?”

“I need you, Ces,” you respond, using his character’s name and hoping he’ll understand your line as an affirmative answer.

He captures your lips in a fierce kiss as he pushes into you, slow enough to give you time to both adjust and choose to back out if needed. His body involuntarily shudders at the sensation. He groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“Fuck,” he gasps breathlessly, his voice hoarse and rough.

You whimper softly, the feeling of being so filled up in a way you haven’t ever experience before leaving you making a string of pathetic, soft, unscripted noises. He rubs slow circles against your hip bone with his thumb, coaxing your body into a non-tense state.

He starts to move when your body relaxes, his strokes slow and firm, his body seeking more of you. He craves you, needs you, wants to please you utterly. No amount of acting could hide how real that feeling was for him.

He pulls back slightly so he can look at your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you struggle to keep up, your breathing uneven and your brain all jumbled. You were trying so desperately to hold onto the parts of this that needed you to be an actress, but the parts that were all too real were threatening to take over.

“Look at me,” Hugh whispers, his voice low and strained with his own pleasure, his hips still rocking back and forth against yours, though slower now so as to give you some room to think. “I want to see you. I want to see how much you’ve missed this, darlin’. How much you’ve been achin’ for me, like I’ve been achin’ for you.”

That last line wasn’t in the script and you noticed that immediately. It was, however, in the book. The thought that the Hugh Jackman had read the novel before starring in the adaptation sent a shiver of affection down your spine. It was more than just lust. You wanted him bad. In more ways than one.

You open your eyes, Hugh’s face slowly blurring back into focus. The look on your face, the way you looked at him with such desperate need as you bit down a soft moan, your nails digging into the flesh of his arm, makes his heart pound. He captures your lips again, his kiss harsh as he swallows the involuntary moan you’re forced to let out.

You know there’s another line you have to deliver—and soon. But you can’t remember it. Your brain is a fuzzy mess as he picks up the pace a bit, pushing you further into the mattress. A particularly hard thrust—the motion like a punishment for your forgetfulness—has you gasp into his mouth and he groans in response.

I want you to forget the war when you’re with me. Let me take that away.

Those were her next lines. All she had to do was say them. Why couldn’t she?

Hugh thrusts into her faster now, as if chasing his own release and forgetting the matter at hand.

That’s why.

“I want—”

He swallows whatever you were going to say with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth all over again. So much for getting all your lines in. He doesn’t want to hear you say anything right now. He just wants to hear the sounds you make so he can commit them to memory in case this never happens again.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, his eyes dark and intense. “Say my name, dollface. Say it.”

Your head falls back and like a dog to a bone, his mouth connects with your neck in an instant.

“Mmm— Hugh…”

He smirks against your neck before moving his face down and biting softly on your shoulder. “Wrong one… They’ll edit that out, love.”

She catches her mistake, the bite on her shoulder serving as a snap back to reality. Or, more accurately, a snap back to her acting responsibilities as a maker of cinematic illusions. “Ces… Fuck— You feel so good…”

A shudder of desire runs through him as he hears your unscripted compliment. It does everything to him to know that he’s successfully making you feel good. He’s making you feel good. He presses a bruising kiss to your neck.

“Just like that, doll,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Tell me how good it feels…”

“S-So good,” she mumbles, her words barely coherent enough to make it into a decent movie. “Mmm— Like that…”

He feels your hands move up to the muscles of his tense, flexed bottom, your fingers digging into the flesh and dragging him closer, letting him fuck you at a deeper level. The pain of your nails in his skin only adds to the pleasure, and he’s nearly driven mad by it. It’s almost more than he can take. “Yeah? Like this?”

You nod and he moves faster, his hips slamming into yours now in a steady, primal rhythm. He’s consumed by it, the feeling, the pleasure, the utter need to have you as his, even if temporarily. He bites at your neck, your shoulder, his body giving itself to yours with every thrust.

“I’m yours, pretty. This… Everything…” he pants, punctuating each word with a deep stroke. “I’m all yours if you’ll have me forever. The war does not own me, you do.”

You’re momentarily stunned by his ability to improvise such in-character lines. The fan in you who loved the book when it was released is impressed and somewhat proud. Even with your mind a cloudy mess, you still manage to have your heart swell with admiration.

He kisses you again, hard and deep, his tongue pushing across your bottom lip before entering your mouth. He’s so eager with it that his teeth knock against yours multiple times as his tongue finds your own. “I’m never letting you go.”

“I’m never allowing you to,” you pant into his mouth.

The need, the want, within him reaches new heights. He grips your hips harder, his thrusts becoming rougher and more primal. It was like his self-control was aggressively and hatefully tossed out the fake window of the set. His hands let go of her hips, leaving behind a stinging sensation that will surely turn to bruises, and move up to the headboard behind her. You think you’re fully at his mercy now, but, really, he’s at your mercy. Completely and irrevocably. And damn if that doesn’t drive the both of you absolutely crazy.

You reach up towards the headboard in order to adjust yourself, but he stops you, wanting you to remain where you were.

“Don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers quickly, finding the right angle so he can drive into you with the headboard as his support. He holds onto the wood so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

You let out a moan, louder than before. His cock twitches inside you in response, a clear sign of his enjoyment of the sound. “You like this, don’t you?” he pants.

Your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He all but moans at the sight. He releases one hand from the headboard and finds his way to your throat, gripping it just tight enough to make you gasp. He leans down and kisses your lips the softest he ever has—a stark contrast to his actions. “I love you, dollface. I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You look him in the eyes as he says these lines, wondering if fiction ever does blur with reality. If so, when was that point for you two? Have you gotten there yet?

Your eyes shut on their own accord and it nearly sends him over the edge. His grip around your throat tightens as he nears his orgasm and he forces himself to let go so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing across his bottom lip. “Keep going, Hugh… Don’t stop…”

He groans at the sound of his real name in your mouth. The feel of your hands on his face, the words leaving her lips… it all sends a shiver of desire down his spine and his cock twitches involuntarily.

“Oh, God, I’m so close…” you mumble between pants, completely off-script. “Please, don’t stop.”

The sound of your pleading, you saying you’re close, nearly makes him come right then and there. His movements become more frantic and desperate. Erratic, even. His words come out in low whispers, as if they were reserved for her and not the camera. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

In a few seconds, you’re completely falling apart below him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You had no life jacket and the ocean had no mercy.

“Fuck, that’s it…” he groans as he watches you come and tighten around his cock.

Your wave of ecstasy pushes him to the brink, his own climax hitting him like a ton of heavy-hitting bricks. He groans and shudders against her, his body warm and damp.

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath. You smell of sex and sweat and everything you decide you’re strangely okay with.

“I think… I think you missed a few lines,” Hugh says, still panting slightly.

You smile at the joke, your chest rising and falling quickly, but beginning to slow down. “Maybe we’ll have to re-do it.”

“What a bloody shame.”

You grin and he pushes forward to kiss your lips without warning—the quick, sudden contact all the proof of his need for you that will remain long after the director will someday soon yell the final “Cut!” for this little film.

[under-loch-n-key]

Hi everyone. Obviously everyone has seen the news and read the polls and obviously you can tell that we’re likely cooked.

For some reason our country wants to elect the Mango Menace and his gaggle of orange stained goons once again.

I am terrified for myself, my loved ones, my country, our climate, and just everything.

However, I’d like to tell the LGBTQIA+ community these things because I know we are terrified right now.

What happened today, it’s devastating. It angers me too. Some of my closest family voted for that horrible man. I don’t think I can look at them the same way anymore. Especially, when they hold no guilt or remorse about it even after I explained his policies to them. What do I know, I guess.. 🤷🏻‍♂️🙄

However, as a queer, trans man in this little community, I want ALL of the LGBTQIA+ people who will see this post to know that things will be alright. We all have each other. We know we exist here in the states even if none of us have met. We EXIST.

Just because those orange stained dunderheads want to silence us doesn't change the fact that we exist. We do. We always will. Bigotry cannot fight facts and science. We'll always exist. The only time trans people won't exist is when the human race dies out. Even then, we have other animal species that are queer and trans. No matter what, we will always exist in nature. They cannot change that. They cannot take that from us. Do not lose hope. Even though it's really fucking hard not to.

Do not lose it. The fact that you and I exist is a beacon of hope to another trans and queer person. We exist. None of us want to be left here alone. So we must go on. We must continue to exist. Things WILL be okay. I'll always keep fighting and living for you and every one of my trans and queer brothers, sisters, and siblings.

You existing and simply being here is a beacon of hope to me. Someone who has understands how I'm feeling. Someone who is LIKE me but so different at the same time.

In the grand scheme of the universe, we are very small. However, even though it's small, the fact is that it EXISTS. It's so fucking small in this big void of the cosmos but we're here. We're made of similar components as stars, ones that had to die for us to exist.

I like to think of the sky as when humanity was truly equal. When we were just atoms in the big ol' void, ya know? We didn't fight. We didn't give a shit about all of this stuff. We were allll different types of stars and matter. We were all random as hell, but we just WERE. We coexisted peacefully together in the universe.

Now that those stars are dead as a door nail and some dumb fishy bastard decided to get curious and walk on land, we're all human. Humanity fucking sucks ass sometimes but it's also such a beautiful fucking thing. No matter what happens, a part of us will always exist.

Our existence is embedded in the universe. Nothing can change that. So, please keep living. Be safe, but keep living. Always keep fighting. We belong here just like anyone else.

You belong. You are loved. You are cherished. You are noticed by me and other people here. We all understand each other. So keep going. Again, one day we will all have a better tomorrow. I swear to fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, if anything, however it's unlikely, I will ALWAYS keep fighting for you and WITH you.

Every protest l attend. Every petition I sign. Every time I vote. Every time I go to pride. Every time l simply leave my home as I am. I am doing it for you and all of us. Our people WILL have our damn tomorrow. I'm sick of us not having it. I swear to you we will. So, again, please keep going. Keep fighting. Keep living. Exist. Your existence may be a threat to some bigoted fucker but your existence is precious to someone else. Please do not let them take your right to exist away from you. Keep going.

We’ll have a better tomorrow, the one that we deserve eventually, but we just need get through the hard, bumpy, dirty road first.

Again, we will be okay. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through it. Yes, unfortunately, we will likely see suicide rates and hate crime rates go up and that's disgusting and just all types of awful and depressing. It angers me beyond words.

However, we are strong.

We shouldn't have to be strong though.

What we should be and need to be is loved, accepted, warm, fed, have shelter, and are safe.

For now though, we remain strong. You will always have a place here.

You will live. You will not die, hun. I know the thought creeps in and believe me, I understand. Those thoughts creep in for me too, but we must learn to try to control them. If there's anything I know about us trans and queer folk it's that we're strong, feisty, kind, very sexy, and cheeky as hell. So, if we live, we live because it's our damn right and to be spiteful. We do not owe the people who want to harm us our lives. We just don't. We deserve healthcare. We deserve to love and get married.

We deserve to grow old.

You will grow old. You will be able to go on those trips you've always wanted. You will be able to have that cheesy romance you've always wanted, if you are someone who is wanting a relationship.

You'll be able to sit down and watch your favourite movie. Why? Because you stayed. You didn't give up. Ever. We will always exist.

We will ALWAYS live.

Being transgender has existed before humans even walked this earth and it will still exist when all of us book our holy bus tickets and the blessed holy tax collector comes to collect our debted souls. No matter what, we will live on. They can silence us all they want and erase whatever the fuck they want but that doesn't mean that it's the truth. We're HERE.

We've been here since forever ago. Those Cheeto dusted dunderheads cannot change that. Like I told another person here, other animals and even plants are trans and queer! We've always been here. That won't change, hun.

Everything WILL be okay. We'll always survive and live on. Look at how far we've come in these past years. Many of us thought that we'd be gone already but here we are, two trans people typing away in comment sections on an app where middle age men get off to octopus porn and neko ladies in Japanese school girl outfits because men. and welcome to the internet, I guess. Lmao.

Everything will work out on way or another. We'll have our tomorrow, hun. For now, we gotta buckle down because we're in for a bumpy ride but hey, thankfully on bumpy you have those moments where ya hit the bump just right and you're like

"WOAH, HELLO!- mister bump, you better watch yourself, you saucy boy~ You can't be doin' that. You better take me to dinner first." Lmao. Okay, on a more serious note, we just gotta buckle down together and get through this bumpy ass dirt road because after awhile you make it through that rocky dirt road in the woods and come out to feel smooth pavement again. It'll be alright. We just need to band together and make it through. We all are always stronger together. You're not alone, my friends.

You're talkin' to a guy who has the personality of a gay muppet with a big mouth. I'm shocked nothin’ has happened to me yet with my yappy ass screeching and getting over 80+ gay people to start baa-ing like sheep at a bigot at last year's pride event, but that's a wholeeeee different situation.

My point is, we'll be okay. We'll make it through.

You'll survive. You have me. You have everyoneeeee here and on other social forums. Sure, it's not the same as in-person interactions but it's somethin'. It’s better than nothing I guess. If we’ve gotta go stealth mode eventually and make secret groups for us trans and queer folk, then so be it.

Just do whatever you feel you need to do to keep yourselves safe.

We'll have a better tomorrow. We just need to keep pushing through this rough shit. We'll get out of the woods and onto smooth pavement with open skies eventually.

Continue to exist. Fight. Be safe, but live. Live for yourself, fellow trans people, and simply for spite.

Fuck bigots. Not actually though. Like DON'T fuck them. Who knows where they've been. But fuck them. They're not worth your life. Their bigotry is not worth your life. Live because it's your right.

Those guys are all so far up Donald Trump’s ass he fired his doctor and hired his supporters to give him a colonoscopy.

So, live long. Live for love and live for spite, my friends. We'll get through this.

It’s Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo. SPOILER: The first movie sucked too. They even tried to make a third one — Mango Menace Strikes Back! We didn’t want to come to the theatre to see the second one but it was a class field trip that most of America signed for us. So, we’ve allll got no choice but to go on the trip to the cinema.

Anyways, things will be okay. We’ll make it through. We’ll out get it figured out. We always do. We’ll take care of each other. Everything will be alright. 🤙🏼💛⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨

(Sorry for typos and repetitive speech- it’s 4:14 a.m. EST. 😭😭)

[mintytealfox]

hi! I wanted to ask how does norton perceive fool's gold? like what does he think of his hunter self? when he becomes conscious again (aka surv norton), what does he think of his body and what does he think of fool's gold's personality? would it be mostly positive or negative? sorry for all the questions. love your art!

Oh my GOSH YES!!! and don't apologize I L O V E QUESTIONS 😍😍😍🙏🙏🙏🙏and Baawwwwww~ Thank yoouuuuuu~

Goodness Norton's thoughts on all thiiisssss~ I think it would go through stages honestly 👀

GOSH I think at FIRST he would be along the lines of "FINALLY an excuse to let loose!!" feeling that there is nothing to hold himself back anymore. He is bigger and stronger, doesn't have to worry about anyone trying to hurt him cause they can't. (like when you take his power outside of the limitations of the game, bruhv makes literal earthquakes and can bring down buildings with a single throw of his pickaxe 🙃) bro is a literal force of nature, the earth element.

I think Norton would enjoy every second of it at first cause that is the path he thinks he needs to be on. A place where nothing will get between him and the fate that HE WANTS. Morals are out the window since the explosion and now, when in Fool's Gold mode, weakness isn't an obstacle either. He doesn't have to keep any status quos or tow any lines for his own preservation, now he is finally the threat. He will think he is finally whole and free now

BUT--

----

--time will have him realizing this isn't the way or what he actually wants.

The thing about Norton is that his strong morals never actually leave him, they always seem to come back despite everything he does to try and bury them away. -Like him potentially hyping himself up to get ready to kill the 'arrogant woman' (having to fight so hard against himself despite going into this thing like 'oh yea, one more death and I am set for life...easy' not so easy when those morals come back ah ) -And if he does listen and turns coat to help protect and save Alice. (meaning his morals have fully returned) -They even show up right when the explosion is about to happen, he has to fight himself before he finally lights the thing.

Every time he tries to do something against his core values, he has to fight terribly against himself EVERY TIME, no matter how many times he has chosen to go against his morals, they keep coming back.

So those morals returning while in Fool's Gold mode, that smirk suddenly falling into a devastated frown

This would be when he splits in two again and has two different personalities one more gloomy and isolating himself as Norton, while the other is "hot tempered and avaricious ("showing an extreme greed for wealth or material gain")" with a stupid grin on his face while he is throwing a fit and earthquaking everything as Fool's Gold.

------

Gosh the image of Norton's consciousness, that has morals, returning to him while in Fool's Gold form and he just looks at his reflection in the water and then eyeing his hands and body and just "look at what i've done to myself...." But he turns and sees a downed survivor he knows and that is when he starts loosing control of his body. His rocks are magnetizing in uncomfortable directions and crumbling apart as he is shaking and fighting to hold himself together. (aka panic attack)

In this split personality time period he would absolutely LOATH his other self ;; and vice versa, His Fool's Gold self would LOATH his survivor self seeing him as pathetic and weak and BORING.

------

I think he could reach a place of acceptance though, simply cause of that Stibnite skin (cause that one for real just feels like regular ol Norton without all the drama. Its just passion and hard work and he took care of his people and just seemed like he was overall comfortable). Like Norton reaching a place where he is finally whole and able to be himself in both forms. That would be quite interesting. (but I think this wouldn't happen until he escapes the games but still has access to both forms) there would still be those major differences in personality and approach but the end goal would be the same.

;;

[glam-pir]

- introduction to writeblr -

p e r s o n a l i n f o

hi !! i'm em, i'm 18, almost 19, and i use she/they pronouns. writing's always been part of my life, i've just never actually believed i could do it. so, here i am, yada yada yada more cheesy shit. anyways, i'm in college so my activity levels are all over the place, i'm hoping having a blog to even myself out and make myself stay consistent will actually work. i love all things dark, gloomy, scary, and puzzle-ey, which goes without saying that my hobbies follow the same tragectory. i've been playing piano since i was four years old and i love writing music, solving puzzles, writing and reading (goes without saying frankly).

a b o u t m y w r i t i n g

let’s get into it, shall we? i really like a blether, and by that i mean i’m indecisive beyond words. my most common genres in the overarching sense is urban fantasy combined with cosmic horror, and high fantasy. i love worldbuilding don’t come for me i’m sensitive.

but in terms of smaller little motifs and themes, i love delving into folklore (slavic and north african, gotta stick to my roots), low fantasy and surrealism, political intrigue, dark romanticism, gothic horror, monster girls, lesbians, a good ole butch/femme dynamic, dead people, ghosts, generational stories, and of course, anything you could listen to depeche mode while reading.

w i p i n f o

jesus it’s uh, um, it’s a mess in here, please ignore the state of my mind rn, all titles are subject to change, for now i'll be titling them by vibe and vibe alone, these will probably be their tags for the forseeable future, also they're all gay

no guts, all gory

a story of suspicious internships, monsterous girls, the desire for knowledge, dead people, things man was not mean to see, and lunch dates with your coworkers. [ low fantasy / surrealism / cosmic horror ]

baba yaga's moving castle

a story of matriarchies, political intrigue, slavic folklore. [ high fantasy / multiple povs ]

gas station prophecies

a story of gas station prophets, things in the fog, shadows in the woods, spooky towns and liminal spaces, odd summer vacations, and some very important realizations. [ low fantasy / surrealism / gothic horror / coming of age ]

saints of nothing at all

a story of secret societies that are worse than they seem, culty schools, ✨cunty✨outfits, mean girls, meaner lesbians, himbos, ballroom dancing, and just a little bit of a roll in the uncanny valley. [ surrealism / hauntings / gothic horror / academia ]

[honeyedmiller]

Fate, After All | Joel Miller — Part Two

I do not own this gif. all credit to the original creator.

warnings: absolute tooth-rotting fluff, idiots (but not really idiots) in love, no-outbreak!Joel, little bit of smut, a teensy bit of angst if you squint, slight cursing, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.9k

series masterlist

-

"Jeez big brother, I haven't seen you this smitten over a woman in... actually, ever." Tommy smirks at Joel in a knowing manner, happy that his brother was finally letting himself give into love again.

Would Joel even call it that, though? Yeah. Hell, he'd been smitten with you since high school, but god, you were all he could think about since you came over to his house for dinner a few months ago, and all the amazing dates you two've been on in between then up until now.

You were undoubtedly making your way into the older Miller brother's heart; so much so that the "L word" was already wanting to fall off of his tongue when you were with him.

Even Sarah was happy for her dad. He made sure that she was okay with him dating, though, because she was his first priority and main concern, always. She scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes when her dad asked what she thought about him dating again. Her response was along the lines of 'Finally, Dad! You need to get out of the house and outta my hair,' to which Joel rolled his eyes back at her. Teenagers.

Joel fidgeted with the rolled-up sleeves of his navy blue button-up shirt, nerves overtaking his body at the moment. You were coming over for dinner for the first time with Tommy and Sarah at the house, possibly spending the night and staying for Sunday brunch. He prayed that everything went well and that Sarah liked you, because hell, he would've been crushed if she didn't.

Tommy hadn't seen you since high school, so he was looking forward to the little reunion.

"You really oughta relax, man. It'll be fine." Tommy's voice pulled Joel from his erratic thoughts once more. Joel threw his brother a tight-lipped smile, though it immediately disappeared when the doorbell rang indicating you'd made it to his house.

Joel walked to the door and quickly opened it, all fears and worries forgotten as his eyes laid themselves on your face. You smiled up at him brightly, the baby pink crochet top and light blue Levi's shorts you wore adorning your body, showing off your beautiful curves.

Oh, hell, you were going to be the death of Joel.

Your black leather purse strap was slung over your shoulder and you carried a bottle of wine in your hands. Joel smiled down at you, making your heart absolutely flutter.

"Hey darlin'. You look gorgeous." Joel pulls you in for a hug, kissing your forehead. You wrap your free arm around his torso, breathing in the delicious scent of him.

"So do you, cowboy." You pull apart from him and wink, causing him to chuckle. He steps aside to let you into the familiar home after taking the bottle of wine from you, the smell of herbs immediately wafting to your nose.

"Mm, smells good." You grin up at Joel as he takes your hand, gently pulling you into the direction of the kitchen.

You see the back of the younger Miller's stature, a grin immediately playing on your lips.

"Well if it isn't little Tommy Miller." You tease, and he immediately whirls around to face you.

"Doesn't count if I'm taller than you now, pipsqueak." He laughs, moving to you to give you a hug.

“How’ve you been?” You hold him at arm’s length after you two separated from the hug.

“Same ol’ same ol’, you know, always gettin’ myself into trouble.” He grins and Joel scoffs, nodding his head indubitably.

“He ain’t lyin’ about that.” Joel mutters, setting the bottle of wine on the island counter of the kitchen.

All three of you turned your heads to the sound of someone walking down the steps, and your heart started to beat faster. You were nervous to meet Joel’s daughter. You wanted her to like you. You knew her and Joel had an extremely tight bond, which was something you never wanted to overstep.

A green-eyed curly haired teenager appeared at the bottom of the steps, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Smells good in here.” She says, before letting out a big yawn. She must’ve just woken up from a nap.

“I was just about to wake you, babygirl. But now that you’re down here, I’d like you to meet someone.” Joel said nervously, grabbing your hand as Sarah approached you both. Tommy was leaning against the counter with an amused expression on his face, stifling a laugh at his brother’s nervousness.

“This is the woman I’ve been seein.’ Darlin’, this is my daughter, Sarah.” Joel introduces you two, and you give her a kind smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Sarah. I’ve heard so much about you.” You extend your arm, and Sarah takes it and yanks you into a hug. You gasp at the sudden movement, but immediately wrap your arms around her with a laugh.

“Finally, another woman around here! This house has way too much damn testosterone.” Sarah huffed, which made you laugh harder.

“Sarah, language.” Joel warned, and Sarah rolled her eyes playfully.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman that has my dad all googly-eyed. Seriously, I haven’t seen him like this— I think, ever.” She laughs, and a blush forms on both yours and Joel’s cheeks.

“Quit spillin’ all my secrets, would ya?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest, looking at his too-smart-for-her-own-good teenager.

With a small giggle, you whisper loudly to her, “Don’t worry, I feel the same way about your father.” You send a wink her way which causes her to brightly smile. Joel’s face turns crimson at your confession, and Tommy laughs at his brother’s reaction.

“C’mon you crazy kids, let’s eat.” Tommy ushers you and Sarah to sit at the table.

Dinner was nothing short of humorous and delightful. Sarah seemed to take a real liking to you, which relieved you and Joel greatly. You, Joel and Tommy all shared stories reminiscing high school, which kept Sarah entertained the whole time. She loved hearing about how her father was when he was a teen, especially from your point of view.

“Are you staying for Sunday brunch tomorrow?” Sarah asks you with a hopeful look on her face. You melted at the thought of her wanting you to stick around. It made you unbelievably happy.

“Of course! That is, if y’all will have me.” You look between the three of them, and before Joel can speak, Sarah nods furiously.

“Absolutely! Tell her, Dad.” Sarah nudges her father and he chuckles.

“‘Course, darlin’. We’d love that.” He reaches for your hand on the table and gives it a squeeze, a smile finding its way onto your lips. Words genuinely couldn’t describe how much you adored the Miller family.

-

After dinner, you helped wash the dishes and clean up even though Joel protested furiously.

“You’re a guest in my house, darlin’. Y’shouldn’t have to clean up around here.”

“Oh please Joel, it’s fine. You made a wonderful dinner for us. Least I can do is help clean up.”

“You’re an angel, y’know that?” He says, kissing your temple before grabbing the wet dish from your hand so he can dry it and put it back in its rightful spot. You shyly tuck your head down at his words and focus on washing the next dish.

Though you two weren’t an official couple, simple things like this made your heart swell. It was like playing house with Joel and secretly, you loved every bit of it. You didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself, but you could see this becoming a daily thing— wedding band on your ring finger, music blasting in the kitchen as you cooked the Millers a nice homemade meal, and Joel wrapping his arms around your waist as he swayed you to the beat of the country love song that was playing.

You’ve known Joel for so long, and though you did lose touch for awhile, you couldn’t help but think at how the universe works in mysterious ways. Ways that brought you two back together. You believed that everything definitely happens for a reason, so this had to be a sign… right?

Joel waved his hand in front of your face to pull you away from your drifting thoughts.

He looked down at you with an amused smile on his face, "Everthin' alright there, sweetheart? Zoned out for a minute, there."

"All good, Miller." You hand him the last dish that needed to be dried and turned off the sink faucet, turning around to lean against the counter.

"Do you think Sarah really likes me?" You gnaw on your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms over your chest. Joel noticed that movement gave your cleavage a little more oomph, causing him to swallow thickly. He met your eyes once again and smiled softly at you, cupping your cheek with his large hand.

"Oh, I don't think, darlin', I know she does. Haven't seen her that excited around anyone besides her friends in a long time." His reassurance floods your body with ease, and you nod.

"I'm glad. I just want her to feel comfortable around me, you know?"

He nods his head and leans in to kiss you, but you were both interrupted by Tommy padding into the kitchen to get some popcorn.

"Great timing, Tommy." Joel shoots his brother a look, and Tommy holds his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, brother, just gettin' some popcorn for the movie we're gonna watch. You joinin' us?" Tommy's eyes avert from Joel's to yours, then back to Joel's.

"C'mon darlin', let's go watch a movie."

-

It was way past midnight when the movie ended. Sarah was knocked out on the couch and Tommy had left to meet up with some friends. Joel got your overnight bag from your car for you, ushering you upstairs and into his room after he locked the front door.

He carried Sarah up to her room and tucked her in before entering his room. You'd already changed into your pajamas, which was nothing but a tiny cami and some sleep shorts. Joel internally groaned at the sight of you in his bedroom, wearing nothing but skimpy sleepwear.

"I, uh, only sleep in my boxers. Is that okay with you?" Joel asks as he shuts the door to his room. You nod sheepishly, finding it sweet that he made sure you were comfortable even though it was his home.

Right now, you felt like a teenager in a boy's room for the first time. Nerves overtook your entire being once more as Joel shuffled to the other side of his room, discarding all of his clothes except for said boxers. His tan skin glowed in the dim yellow light of his bedside lamp, and it was nearly impossible not to stare.

The veins in his strong arms were prominent, especially as he unintentionally flexed with every move he made. His stomach was on the huskier side, but still strong, and his thighs were deliciously thick.

What a man.

You didn't want to be clocked as a total creep, so you didn't even dare look down to where his manhood was. You swallowed thickly and averted your eyes, meeting his gaze.

"See somethin' y'like, sweetheart?" A smirk easily found its way onto Joel's plush lips, causing your face to go red, but, you decided to play along.

"Actually, I do." You smile sweetly and walk past him, going into his bathroom to brush your teeth. He trails after you, his hands resting on your hips.

"Yeah? I do too." He whispers, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers lightly trace down your sides as his lips find home on your neck, kissing the soft flesh a few times before wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. He lets go of you to brush his own teeth, his mind racing at how intimate this really feels.

Your eyes meet his through the big mirror, and he smiles at how you have toothpaste coming out of the corners of your mouth as you finish brushing your teeth. You rinse your mouth and wipe the sides, turning to face him again.

"High school me would've been freaking out that I'm in Joel Miller's room, y'know." He finishes rinsing his mouth as well, tongue poking out to get the extra toothpaste off of the corner of his mouth.

"And what about adult you?"

"Adult me is so fuckin' glad that my blind date didn't show up." Your voice is merely a whisper, eyes looking up into his own. His dark gaze trails over your face, stopping at your lips for a brief second before taking your hand, leading you to his bed. He climbs into the right side of his bed, patting the spot next to him.

You quietly laugh as you slide in next to him, covering your body with the comforter. He turns off his bedside lamp, the room immediately going completely dark. The only light that was emitted was from the crescent moon up in the sky, shining through his blinds.

The scent of Joel engulfed you as you snuggled up under his comforter, staring up at his ceiling fan.

Joel turns on his side to face you and props his head up with his hand, "Y'know, it's really distracting when a sexy woman as yourself is laying in bed beside me wearin’ nothin’ but thin, measly sleepwear." Joel's minty breath fanned your face, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot.

"Oh I'm sorry, would you rather I sleep with some sweats n’ a turtleneck?" You retort sarcastically, making Joel laugh.

"Not at all, baby. Matter of fact, I'd prefer if these items were off." Joel's warm fingers teased your arm, tracing over it lightly until they met one strap of your cami, tugging it down slowly.

You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes. His touch was nothing less of hypnotic, and it made you extremely needy for him.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." Joel's voice held seriousness and sincerity, and you immediately placed your hand over his to help him guide it down your torso.

"Keep going." Was all you said, and Joel didn't hesitate any longer. His hand found its way down the front of your shorts, pleasantly surprised at the fact that you weren't wearing underwear.

His skillful fingers easily found your swollen nub, rubbing small, tight circles over it a few times before trailing down the rest of your slick heat.

“Goddamn sweetheart, you’re fuckin’ soaked.” Joel mewls, leaning down to capture your soft lips into his. He moans into the kiss, fingers working themselves against your core as he teasingly traced around your entrance.

It’d been way too long since you’d been intimate with any man, so the excitement your body was exerting was nothing short of expected.

“Fuck, Joel. Please.”

Hearing you beg nearly made Joel’s head spin. His name rolled off your tongue like honey, and fuck was he addicted to it.

His middle and ring finger easily found home in you, pumping at a languid pace. The sounds coming from you were deliciously sinful, as all that could be heard were your lips smacking with Joel’s and your wetness against his fingers.

“So ready for me, angel.” He murmured against your lips, trailing his own down your cheek and to your neck. He nipped and licked a spot repeatedly until he was satisfied, knowing it might leave a mark there by day’s start.

“Joel.” You whimpered, your hips grinding into his hand at this point. The friction was heavenly and his fingers simply reached spots yours never could. You wanted more. You wanted to feel him stretch you and fill you up in the most delectable way, but you had to pull yourself back to reality— you weren’t even his girlfriend. You didn’t want to rush into anything, and you especially didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

You’d voice your concerns to him later, because for now, you were enjoying the feeling of his fingers bringing you pure ecstasy. His thumb found your sensitive clit as he kept moving his fingers in and out of you at a nearly torturous pace, but the extra stimulation was enough to nearly send you over the edge.

Your moans were getting more prominent and your hips started bucking, and Joel wore a shit-eating grin on his lips. His tongue darted between his lips to wet them, and looked down at you in a daze with his dark eyes. The way your brows furrowed together and your jaw was slack had his cock aching. He wanted to take it slow with you, though, and just wanted to pleasure you tonight—even if it was just with his fingers.

“That’s it, baby, let go. Let go f’me.” His voice was husky and you gripped his comforter for dear life, gritting your teeth as you found your release. You tried your damndest to be quiet because for god’s sake, you didn’t need to wake anyone with your lewd sounds.

You quickly turn your head toward him as you tried your best to bury your face into the pillow you were laying on, shuddering as you rode out your intense orgasm. If he could make you come undone like this with just his fingers, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what his cock could do.

“Fuck, Joel.” You’re breathless as your words are laced with a laugh, drawing a chuckle from him. He leans over and kisses your forehead, slowly withdrawing his fingers from you. He reaches up and brings the long digits to his mouth, eager to taste you. The scene before you made your aching core clench around nothing, wanting to whine at how hot he looked tasting you on his fingers.

“Mm. Just as sweet as I imagined,” He flashed you a cheeky grin as heat flooded your cheeks, drawing a noise that was a huff and laugh mixed into one from you.

“Next time, I’m gonna have you seein’ stars, baby. You can count on that.” Joel promised you, and fuck you couldn’t wait for that time to come around.

-

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You frowned a bit, because you’d been cuddling with Joel all while you slept so the loss of body heat and touch was a bit disappointing. Your heard the faint sound of chatter and laughter downstairs, which wiped away your grogginess rather quickly.

You decided to freshen up before you went downstairs, because for god’s sake, you were sure you were still a mess from last night. The feeling of Joel’s long, thick fingers deliciously moving in and out of you was imprinted in your brain.

A blush crept to your cheeks as you recounted all of the sweet, sinful things that easily rolled off of his tongue— things he would make sure you were the only one to hear.

You sighed as the familiar ache of need pooled into you once again, but you had to forget about it for now. You rummaged through your overnight bag to take out the pretty pink sundress you were going to wear and slipped it on after discarding your pajamas. You fixed your hair up into a low style and put on some mascara, and it was only then that you noticed how much you were glowing.

Maybe it was because you’d had your first orgasm that wasn’t brought on by your own self in years, or, maybe it was the fact that a beautiful man downstairs that you’ve known for over a decade was willing to give you the time of day and wanted you to stick around.

It might’ve sounded a little pathetic to be happy over the slightest thing, but with the history of the countless failed blind dates and your mother nagging you that you needed to find someone (which you really didn’t—you were completely fine on your own, just a little lonely), you finally had a good feeling about this one. Again, you didn’t want to be presumptuous and get ahead of yourself, but Joel Miller definitely seemed like a keeper.

Some loud banter from downstairs snapped you from your thoughts, so you decided to see what was going on. You made your way downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Good mornin’ everyone.” You smiled at the three Millers standing around the island counter in the kitchen.

Sarah and Tommy both smiled at you and said good morning, but Joel was just gawking at you in pure awe. He was so distracted by how beautiful you looked in the sundress you wore, and how your features were still slightly adorned with sleep. Joel loved it. You were, in his eyes, the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen.

He was so enthralled with you that he started to crack an egg, putting the yolk into the sink instead of the bowl next to him and the egg shells in the bowl.

Sarah and Tommy were amused by the scene in front of them, both wanting to laugh at how Joel looked so damn lovestruck.

You couldn’t even give Joel shit for the whole egg thing because damn, he looked so good. Mouth-wateringly good. He looked like a tall glass of water with the way his hair was neatly combed, the way his muscles rippled in the green shirt he wore, and those glasses he looked so handsome in perched up on his nose. You couldn’t get enough of him.

Tommy cleared his throat, “Well if you two are done eye-fucking each other, I’d like to finish making brunch so we can eat.”

Sarah howled with laughter at her uncle’s snide remark, Joel glared at him, and a blush crept onto your cheeks.

“Tommy.” Joel scolded, rolling his eyes.

Tommy held his hands up in defense before standing next to Joel and looking down at the egg shells sitting inside the bowl.

“I also don’t like my eggs crunchy.” Tommy chided, his voice laced with pure humor.

Joel’s gaze moved down to the bowl, and he sighed in defeat.

“Shit.” He whispered, fishing the shells out with his fingers before tossing them into the trash.

“Anything I can help with?” You ask, taking a seat next to Sarah.

“Nuh uh, darlin’, you just relax.” Joel smiled at you, and the butterflies in your stomach erupted for the thousandth time.

“You look so pretty. I like your dress.” Sarah exclaimed as she turned to face you.

You gave her a beaming smile, “You look prettier. And thank you, maybe sometime you can come over to my place and borrow some clothes, if you’d like.” Her face immediately perked up at your offer.

Joel smiled down at the bowl of eggs he was whisking, loving the fact that you two were getting along so well. He knew he wanted, no, needed to make you his soon. You were the sunshine that all the Millers needed in their life. You were a breath of fresh air for Joel. You were sweet, caring, kind, and god were you a stunner.

Joel still thanks the heavens every day that the blind date your mother sent you on didn’t work out for you, because it led you to reunite with him.

He never really used to be a believer in fate—but with you, maybe it really was that after all.

[minihotdog]

Good ol' fishing boy

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x gn!Reader

a/n: idk. Simon is a big ol softie in this one

Summary: Simon learns how to fish

c/w: fake worm, maybe a swearword

Word Count: 1k

***

The weekend had finally come around. The usual hustle and bustle of the compound died down as everyone ran off to enjoy the little free time they’d been given. 

“Hey, Lt!” You beam at the sight of your superior. “Whatcha got planned for today?” You stood with your fishing rods tucked under your arm and a backpack stuffed to its brim.

“Nothin’.” He sat at the table with his morning tea. He always had such a cold look, with or without his mask, but you were determined to try and break down at least one of his walls. You’d been working for the task force for about three months now, and he was the only one who you still didn’t know a thing about.

  “You ‘otta come fishing with me. It’d be a good time, I promise.” You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response.

“Not up my alley.” He swiftly declines, leaving you taken aback. 

In all my years, I’ve never heard a military man say no to fishing.

“Wha’d’ya gonna do? Sit here all day?” You say in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Oh c’mon, Lt.! What if I fall in the water and I can’t get out and I’m all by myself!” You clasp your hands in front of you as if you were about to get on your knees and beg. He sighs at what he referred to as your ‘American dramatics’. 

“Fine, but keep the talking to a minimum.”

“Yaay!” You celebrate, causing the stern Brit to groan in annoyance.

***

The air nipped at your nose as you and Simon sat on the bank of the river. The mountains off in the distance were topped off with fresh snow. The warm sunlight would occasionally peak out from behind the grey clouds. 

“Here ya go,” You hand him a rod and open your tackle box between the two of you. You start tying your hook to the line and reaching into the box to pull out a long black fake worm. You look over to Simon, motioning to the worm, “See this little guy? Bass love this shit.” He snorts lightly but you notice him go still when he looks at the contents of the box.

“So what do I do?” He asks, a little embarrassed. Most boys learned how to fish with their dads, unfortunately, his dad had been set on being a nightmare rather than an angler. You stop dead in your tracks, eyeing the man.

“You ever been fishing before?”

“No.”

You almost drop your worm, 

“What?! Really?!”

He shoots you a look that says, ‘Cool it or else’.

“Your dad never took you when you were a kid?” You probe.

“We weren’t very close.” His eyes avoid yours and look out at the bend of the river. Simon wasn’t one to feel embarrassed about his upbringing, he saw it as something that made him the man he was today. It motivated him to be better than what he witnessed and to maybe even eliminate the horrors that many were forced to live with. But it came with a cost and that cost was the simple things other people had gotten to experience that he didn’t.

“I wasn’t close with mine either,” You sigh, hoping that you hadn’t brought up painful memories. His eyes were back on you at the revelation.

“I actually learned how to fish from the locals when I was stationed in Turkey.” You smile, recounting the memories from your time overseas. “I rented a pole out and asked a taxi driver to take me to a fishing store. The taxi driver could barely speak English but it was clear as day that he loved fishing. We talked the whole way to the store and he even went inside with me.” You chuckle, “I’d run into a group of ‘Turkish Uncles’ out fishing and they’d try to show me their tricks.”

You place your rod down on the rocky ground and motion for him to give you his. “I’ll show you,” Your words come out softly. “This part is easy.” You place the rod between your knees and grab a hook out of the box to show him. 

“Now, there are all sorts of knots you can do but I use the Y/L/N special.” You put the line through the hole at the top of the hook and wrap the loose end a couple of times around the line coming directly from the rod.

 “So you wrap it however many times, then you put it through the loop at the bottom. Pull it and then tie a knot.” He nods at you showing he understands, and his eyes examine the funny-looking knot. 

“One time I went fishing with a friend of mine. He was the Bill Dance of trout.” You pause briefly to explain, “Bill Dance is an old man in the States that strikes fear in the hearts of Bass everywhere.” Simon laughs softly at your dramatics. “But, he took one look at my knot and I thought I was gonna die from embarrassment. He was too nice to tell me it looked awful, but it works just like any other.”

You gently clap your hands together, “Moving on, you know what these are?” You point to the contents inside your tackle box. Simon shakes his head, a smirk still playing on his lips. He almost felt like a young boy again, recanting the stories he’d heard in school of the other boys going out on the lake with their dads. Here he finally was.

“These are lures, a.k.a. Fake bait. They come in all shapes: Frogs, worms, little fish. Depending on the fish, some work better than others. Bass like the worm. Snakeheads, those angry demon fish, like the frogs.” You trail off stating the different lures for different fish as you grab a black worm out of the box. 

“You can hook however you want, but I think this is what separates boys from men.” Simon’s little smirk grows briefly. He found the way you explained things to him to be endearing.

You grab the hook in one hand and hold the fake worm in the other. “You could do this,” You put the hook through the side of the worm and let it dangle. 

“But you’d probably lose your lure on the weeds or from a strong bite.” You pull the worm off. “This is what I do because I’m a big fishing man,” You joke. Simon silently laughs again. He’d hear you constantly calling yourself jacked and joking that you were as big as him. Here you sat, looking about as big as the worm in comparison to him.

You put the hook through the top of the worm’s head, coming through the side. Your now cold fingers slide the worm to the top of the hook and poke through the middle of the squishy lure with the pointy tip nudging back into it. “This way, your hook stays weedless.” You hand him his rod before hooking your lure.

“Now we can rip some lips.” You laugh at your own joke as you stand and walk closer to the water. You point to the button your thumb rests on, looking back at him. “Hold that down when you cast.” You turn back to the water and give your rod a swift jerk. Your hook goes flying out to the middle of the river. Simon follows and casts his line out, the hook barely lands two feet away. He tuts quietly.

“Here,” You place your rod down and come up behind him. You place one hand on his left shoulder and the other over his hand on the base of the rod. “Keep your body facing the water, and swat it like this.” You run through the motion twice before backing away to watch him. This time he casts without a hitch. “Right on.” You smile at him and for the first time, he smiles back.

The two of you sit back down on the log. “Give it a couple of little tugs every once in a while and reel it in little by little. Or how the Turks taught me: Reel, reel, reel, action, action, action.”

“Reel, reel, reel, action, action, action.” He talks himself through the motions. 

“Just like that. Now we wait.”

Moments pass of silence. You couldn’t complain, the view was beautiful.

“Is it true that fish can hear you?” Simon asks you, a bit of humor in his voice.

“No, I think that’s something dads made up so their kids would be quiet.” The two of you laugh. You liked this version of Simon. Relaxed, still quiet and reserved, but he wasn’t the same cold person you met as Ghost.

“Thank you… For teaching me.” He said suddenly.

“No problem, I could use a fishing partner.” You nudge him with your elbow. “Just don’t catch more fish than me or we’ll have a problem.”

[alterrune]

Albert: Somethings wrong, be careful, the hospitals layout is shifting!

(The walls and hallways of the hospitals begin to shift around, before a wall blocks off Alter, Violent, Laurence, and Morgana from Kyle, Henry, Ellie, and Teddie)

Albert: The layout has changed, there's stairwells on both of your sides, you'll have to use them to continue moving up the hospital. Again, be aware of traps and shadows, it's becoming much more dangerous here.

(Albert notices some of the signs and painting decorations on the walls after scanning the area)

Albert: These paintings, there all of Lily's memories, the bad ones unfortunately, this entire place are projections of Lily's fear for the worst outcomes because of her after all, so... you might come across more projections of her thoughts. The staircase requires you all solve a puzzle to access it... you might want to take a glace at Lily's memories when you have the chance. Watch over Laurence okay, some of these memories he likely wouldn't want to see,

O-Okay, I can help you. I'm pretty sure you have to go up the stairs with the paintings depicting something that actually happened to her. Lily always told me whenever something bad happened to her, and I remember what they are because I comforted her afterwards.

(We begin climbing up the stairwells. Laurence seems to be becoming less and less stable after each stairwell, but when we get to the last one, it REALLY breaks him...)

No.

No, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!

(...because it's a depiction of the exact moment Laurence shot Lily. However, Laurence suddenly sprints away and RUNS INTO THE WRONG STAIRWAY ON PURPOSE.)

NO, YOU SICK FUCKING BASTARD OF A SHADOW!!! I REFUSE TO LET THAT BE THE DAMNED ANSWER!!!

(We can't stop him. Luckily, what he did doesn't end up resetting our progress or get us kicked out of the dungeon.)

Guys, I'll get him back here. Stay here and let me handle things.

I'm POSITIVE, Teddie. Laurence needs help, and I'm gonna give it to him.

(I quickly run up and follow Laurence. A fuckload of shadows are surrounding him, as he lies on the floor, crying in fetal positi---wait a minute. Holy fucking shit, he's having a full-on mental breakdown. I have to stop this, and I know just how to do it.)

J-JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!!! FINISH THE F-FUCKING JOB!!! WHY ARE YOU T-TORMENTING ME BY L-LETTING ME LIVE?!?!

LAURENCE!!!

(Laurence suddenly looks up after I shouted his name, and sees me. I run over to come up close to him.)

K-Kyle...? What are you doing here? This is my punishment.

No it fucking ain't. Listen, Laurence. I know you have PTSD from that whole event. But I know how it feels to have a family member die. In fact, it happened to me twice.

My grandfather passed away due to "health complications" (the details are fuzzy on the specifics), and my step-grandfather passed away due to cancer. I miss both of them, but constantly hanging onto that memory isn't good for you. But at the same time, neither is just trying to just straight-up discard it, either. It'll always come back to you.

Do you know what I do with those memories? Turn them into ways to push myself forward. Instead of constantly grieving over them, I make sure whatever I do, I do it for them. And I'm damn well sure that I've made them proud of me.

And remember, you still have Lily. She's just known as Kynn Lee now, remember? You may be grieving over someone who "died" in your eyes, but she's been essentially reincarnated now. You don't have to grieve over someone who's still alive.

Now, how about you stop being a big ol' ding-dong-dumbass and help me kill these Shadows so we can get the fuck outta this death trap?

(Laurence stands up and gives me a genuine smile.)

You're right, Kyle. Whatever happened then isn't important right now. What matters is what we do right here and now. ORPHEUS!

Alright, now we're talking. MAGATSU-IZANAGI!

(Orpheus and Magatsu-Izanagi stand behind us as we prepare to use a skill that will ensure we get back to the others. That move is...)

MEGIDOLAON!!!

(...the Almighty skill, Megidolaon, of course! We quickly cast it at the same time, leaving no shadows left. It's two Megidolaons going off at the exact same time, do you really expect survivors?)

C'mon, Kyle. Let's head back to the others.

(We quickly head back through the same doorway. Everyone is relieved to see us back.)

Oh thank GOD, you two are alright! We were starting to get worried!

Yeah. What happened when you went the wrong way, anyways?

Turns out the wrong set of stairs had a metric fuckton of shadows behind it.

We managed to fight them off, though.

Actually, thanks to Kyle, I'm better than ever. Let's get the hell off of this never-ending staircase, everyone.

(Laurence then heads up, with everyone following suit. Teddie and Morgana stop me for a moment, however.)

Happy to be of assistance. He already heard that message once before, I just gave him a reminder. Regardless, let's get going.

(Teddie, Morgana, and I then leave out of the final stairwell, ending this never-ending staircase climb once and for all...as well as Laurence coming out of that whole experience feeling leagues better than he did before.)

[bella-n0va]

hiii do you have any lawlight fanfic recs I feel like I’ve read everything 😭😭 i just love ice queen light who gets spoiled by L

Omg hi this is my first ask so thank you so much for reaching out dear anon! (and same ice queen Light getting absolutely pampered by L is peak fiction I don't make the rules lmao)

As for fic recommendations, I'm afraid I may not be of much help since most of the time I don't really like to search out Lawlight fics in general since the way some authors end up writing L and Light low-key ends up triggering me ngl like it's always a gamble on what I'm gonna end up with lmao (but alas that's another topic for another day.)

But I really recommend if you haven't read it yet the fic rewards for fools by user autumnstar88 on Ao3 it has Light in a skirt and heels and he gets pampered at the end by L a little it's so good

I myself am planning on writing a fic taking place during the yotsuba arc focusing on the aftercare after one of L and Light's sessions. With some good ol secret pining/yearning but of course since this is L and Light they won't be admitting anything outright but while their words may fail, their actions speak for themselves like how L always makes it a point to check Light's body for any injuries he may have caused him or handfeeding him. Like L really doesn't have to do all that, yet he always does and that's what makes Light feel even more conflicted lol. (I will post a link to it here on my tumblr once I'm finished with the fic if this concept interested you.)

Thank you again for reaching out I'm so sorry I couldn't have been of much help 😭

- love, Nico

[inbarfink]

List of which songs are included on each Polka under the cut

Polkas on 45: "Jocko Homo" by Devo, "Smoke on the Water" by Deep Purple, "Sex (I'm a …)" by Berlin, "Hey Jude" by The Beatles, "L.A. Woman" by the Doors, "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" by Iron Butterfly, "Hey Joe" by Jimi Hendrix, "Burning Down the House" by Talking Heads, "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner, "Every Breath You Take" by The Police, "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by the Clash, "Jumpin' Jack Flash" by the Rolling Stones, "My Generation" by the Who

Hooked on Polkas: "Twelfth Street Rag" by Euday L. Bowman, "State of Shock" by The Jacksons and Mick Jagger, "Sharp Dressed Man" by ZZ Top, "What's Love Got to Do with It" by Tina Turner, "Method of Modern Love" by Hall & Oates, "Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes, "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister, "99 Luftballons" by Nena, "Footloose" by Kenny Loggins, "The Reflex" by Duran Duran, "Bang Your Head (Metal Health)" by Quiet Riot, "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood

Polka Party!: "Sledgehammer" by Peter Gabriel, "Sussudio" by Phil Collins, "Party All the Time" by Eddie Murphy, "Say You, Say Me" by Lionel Richie, "Freeway of Love" by Aretha Franklin, "What You Need" by INXS, "Harlem Shuffle" by The Rolling Stones, "Venus" by Bananarama, "Nasty" by Janet Jackson, "Rock Me Amadeus" by Falco, "Shout" by Tears for Fears, "Papa Don't Preach" by Madonna

The Hot Rocks Polka: "It's Only Rock 'n Roll (But I Like It)", "Brown Sugar", "You Can't Always Get What You Want", "Honky Tonk Women", "Under My Thumb", "Ruby Tuesday", "Miss You", "Sympathy for the Devil", "Get Off of My Cloud", "Shattered", "Let's Spend the Night Together", "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" - all by The Rolling Stones

Polka Your Eyes Out: "Cradle of Love" by Billy Idol, "Tom's Diner" by DNA featuring Suzanne Vega, "Love Shack" by the B-52's, "Pump Up the Jam" by Technotronic, "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M., "Unbelievable" by EMF, "Do Me!" by Bell Biv DeVoe, "Enter Sandman" by Metallica, "The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground, "Cherry Pie" by Warrant, "Miss You Much" by Janet Jackson, "I Touch Myself" by Divinyls, "Dr. Feelgood" by Mötley Crüe, "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice

Bohemian Polka: "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen

The Alternative Polka: "Loser" by Beck, "Sex Type Thing" by Stone Temple Pilots, "All I Wanna Do" by Sheryl Crow, "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails, "Bang and Blame" by R.E.M., "You Oughta Know" by Alanis Morissette, "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by The Smashing Pumpkins, "My Friends" by Red Hot Chili Peppers, "I'll Stick Around" by Foo Fighters, "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden, "Basket Case" by Green Day

Polka Power!: "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls, "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger, "Ghetto Supastar (That Is What You Are)" by Pras featuring Ol' Dirty Bastard and Mýa, "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" by the Backstreet Boys, "Walkin' on the Sun" by Smash Mouth, "Intergalactic" by the Beastie Boys, "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba, "Ray of Light" by Madonna, "Push" by Matchbox Twenty, "Semi-Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind, "The Dope Show" by Marilyn Manson, "MMMBop" by Hanson, "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground, "Closing Time" by Semisonic

Angry White Boy Polka: "Last Resort" by Papa Roach, "Chop Suey!" by System of a Down, "Get Free" by The Vines, "Hate to Say I Told You So" by The Hives, "Fell in Love with a Girl" by The White Stripes, "Last Nite" by The Strokes, "Down with the Sickness" by Disturbed, "Renegades of Funk" by Rage Against the Machine, "My Way" by Limp Bizkit, "Outside" by Staind, "Bawitdaba" by Kid Rock, "Youth of the Nation" by P.O.D., "The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem

Polkarama!: "Chicken Dance" by Werner Thomas, "Let's Get It Started" by Black Eyed Peas, "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand, "Beverly Hills" by Weezer, "Speed of Sound" by Coldplay, "Float On" by Modest Mouse, "Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz featuring De La Soul, "Don't Cha" by The Pussycat Dolls featuring Busta Rhymes, "Somebody Told Me" by The Killers, "Slither" by Velvet Revolver, "Candy Shop" by 50 Cent featuring Olivia, "Drop It Like It's Hot" by Snoop Dogg featuring Pharrell Williams, "Pon de Replay" by Rihanna, "Gold Digger" by Kanye West featuring Jamie Foxx

Polka Face: "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga, "Womanizer" by Britney Spears, "Right Round" by Flo Rida ft. Kesha, "Day 'n' Nite" by Kid Cudi, "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum, "Baby" by Justin Bieber ft. Ludacris, "So What" by Pink, "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry, "Fireflies" by Owl City, "Blame It" by Jamie Foxx ft. T-Pain, "Replay" by Iyaz, "Down" by Jay Sean ft. Lil Wayne, "Break Your Heart" by Taio Cruz ft. Ludacris, "Tik Tok" by Kesha

NOW That's What I Call Polka!: "Wrecking Ball" by Miley Cyrus, "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People, "Best Song Ever" by One Direction, "Gangnam Style" by Psy, "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen, "Scream & Shout" by will.i.am feat. Britney Spears, "Somebody That I Used to Know" by Gotye feat. Kimbra, "Timber" by Pitbull feat. Kesha, "Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO, "Thrift Shop" by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Wanz, "Get Lucky" by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell Williams

[prismaticpichu]

Dear Zack and Sephiroth,

To Zack: is snuggles allowed?

I'm confused.

Both: Do you know about Northern lights? Have you seen it before?

To Sephiroth: Do you like science? can you explain why?

I'm sorry if that was rude.

To Zack: Which board games you like?

Both: Which plushies are your favorite?

To Sephiroth: I'm sorry, I like your hugs so much! Can you hug me please?🥺💛🩷🩵✨🌟🫂❇️🎇🎆❤️🤗.

Both: You guys are the best!💟.

Zack: Heya Bob! Good to see ya again!! ✨

Zack: Snuggles?? Is that the name of a plushie? Are you asking if he’s allowed in ShinRa Tower…? Heh! I’m just pulling your sock V^ω^V l don’t see why snuggling wouldn’t be allowed in the appropriate locations with the appropriate people! I snuggle up against Seph on the couch all the time! You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve fallen asleep wrapped in my best bud’s arms, some cheesy movie playing in the back <3 Guy is such a soft serve ice cream come when you get to know him!!

~

Zack: The Northern Lights??? Ooohhhh yeah!! You mean when the sky goes all disco with color!! I personally haven’t seen them during my own lifetime, but they sure do make beautiful desktop screensavers!

Sephiroth: Ah, yes. You’re referring to Aurora Borealis. Despite never seeing it myself, I am indeed aware of the natural phenomenon.. It is actually caused by the planet’s electromagnetic field interacting with particles from the sun, which was only one of the many facts I researched while a small child in the labs. Astronomy and geoscience have always been favorites of mine, to answer your other question.There is also no need to apologize; your query is perfectly appropriate. But to reiterate—yes, I am indeed an avid readers science nonfiction, predominantly homing in on the study of space and natural phenomena that occur on the planet. I suppose this stems from being surrounded by such a rich scientific atmosphere as a child. However, while my “father” studies biochemistry, I have strictly chosen to focus my studies on other fields. I am not interested in cellular matters, and I don’t think I ever will be.

~

Zack: Ooh! Good question!! I think I gotta spring for Jenga!! (Whiiiich I think counts!) ✨ There is really nothing funnier on this planet than watching Seph decide which block to move like each piece is a wire attached to a bomb or something. It’s good stuff!! OOH! Also Twister!!! (P.S!! DO NOT PLAY THIS GAME WITH SOMEONE WITH KNEE-LENGTH HAIR YOU WILL GET TANGLED LIKE A MEATBALL IN SPAGHETTI.)

~

Zack: My favorite plushie?? Easy cheesy! That’s my ol’ pal, Muffin… AND his twin brother, Stuffin, who’s another little dragon dude who Seph stitched up for me on my birthday. Never can I miss a night without them!!

Sephiroth: Hmph. I do not own many “plushies”… barring the one Zack purchased for me, of course, to commemorate the one-year anniversary of our friendship. So I suppose my answer would have to be my stuffed Ifrit.

~

Sephiroth: Heh. I never knew someone besides Zack could be so fond of my embraces. It is actually… quite nice. Most people are afraid of me, you know. It’s most certainly a chance of pace. Ergo, I accept your request for another one.

*still stiff, but noticeably less awkward, Sephiroth puts both his hands on your shoulders in a vague embrace. the contact lasts for about four seconds.*

Sephiroth: I hope that was adequate ^_^

~

Zack: NO U, MY FRIEND!! YOU’RE THE BEST!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

Sephiroth: Heh… so I’ve been told. But the words are always less hollow when coming from a genuine soul.

[decamarks]

Hey there! First off I want to say I *adore* your art, you absolutely 1000% perfectly tap into the vibe and style of late 90's/early 00's 3D models in a way literally no one else does. I think about your art of your fake games' glitches (especially the forum post!!! it's. *perfect.*) all the time :)

And I've noticed how you're always very insightful and kind whenever you answer asks, so thank you for that!

If it's not too intrusive to ask, I was wondering how you went about finding a doctor to get your autism diagnosis? I've been pretty sure for a few years now that I'm on the spectrum, but I've never had a clue how to actually get tested/diagnosed. Especially since I'm an adult female too, and I've heard a ton about how autism is really overlooked/underdiagnosed for people like us.

But seeing that you were able to find someone who avoided all the common pitfalls and was able to actually help you made me want to reach out. I had been wanting to ask you this for a while (as you can probably tell based on what the question was haha) but I was too anxious to actually do it (still am, a bit ><). Again, feel free to ignore this part if it's too personal or you don't want to answer it for any reason!

It feels awkward to end an ask with that, so I'll bookend it with something I think you'll like: have you ever heard of trsrockin.com? It's an old fansite I used to visit religiously as a kid that talked about early Pokemon and Super Mario games and collectibles from them, as well as oddities like glitches from the aforementioned games, forgotten weird one-off SNES games, documenting fake/trick fanmade "cheats" for games, and bootleg merchandise.

It's one of if not the first public place (afaik) that MissingNo. and pals were discovered/talked about, and a little community came together to try and figure out why the glitch happened and what all the effects and variants of it were. Even you've been to trsrockin before and none of this is new info, I thought it would at least be a nice trip down memory lane :)

It's an old site that has since been taken down, and for some reason archive.org can't properly archive the full site/all its links. But luckily someone created a complete mirror of it! You can find it here: http://catfish.it.cx/trsrockin/trsrockin.com/index.html

AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! ;__; you're too kind... i know i haven't posted too much of my 3d work recently, but trust me, i have a LOT more of those faux-retro aesthetics in store with the game i've been working on... >=) i'm always so so happy to see other people appreciate janky ol' 3d graphics, LMFAO

also!! i've definitely heard of trsrockin eheehee... i was a bit too young to use it when it was in its prime (and also more of a bulbapedia enthusiast), but i've perused some archived pages before! old internet forums & fansites are just the best thing in the world...

ANYWAY: regarding your question! Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm the best person to give advice about this, because I feel like I kind of got my diagnosis by chance... Essentially: I started seeing a new therapist; she suggested I might be on the spectrum, I said, "Yeah maybe IDK"; I got a referral to an evaluator—and then an incredibly expensive diagnosis after a few months of waiting and testing.

My case differs in that I didn't really suspect being on the spectrum myself. Which seems a bit silly, considering I now realize I am... observably autistic. In abundance. But it was genuinely hard to puzzle out, what with all my other problems (particularly, severe misophonia, which can be REALLY hard to differentiate from general sensory sensitivity.) So about specifically seeking out a diagnosis, I unfortunately can't give a good answer. But I'm willing to talk about the rest, on the off-chance it ends up helpful! (Under the cut at least.)

I don't like to be too open about my Issues™ online—but I got a whole lot of them, and they used to be a lot worse than they are now, so I was stuck in that perpetual "adolescent with treatment-resistant depression" purgatory for, like... my entire adolescence! Because no one knew what the hell was wrong with me. I'm barely in adulthood now, but I'm extremely thankful to be broken out of that. Both the 'treatment-resistant depression' diagnoses AND the adolescence. Being told with authority that I, indeed, have an untreated case of mega-autism—and not an irreparably broken brain whose electrical activities zap SSRIs straight out of existence—is definitely relieving. And now I can confidently say shit like 'mega-autism', so like, wins all around.

About getting a diagnosis in general: in my case, I kind of needed one, because it would be not be feasible for me to go to school/work/exist without accommodations of some kind. (The evaluation I had was, in part, just to get a psychological report of any kind, since I desperately needed supporting documentation to request accommodations anywhere.) Otherwise, I'm honestly not sure if I'd bother?

On one hand, an official diagnosis is an incredibly affirming thing to have—especially if you didn't even suspect it before; things start making a lot of sense afterwards, LOL—but on the other hand, it is a tedious and kind of humiliating process. And possibly expensive.

And then, like you mentioned, there's the problem of some doctors being biased or plainly godawful at their job/poorly designed systems ruining everything for everyone. It's probably for incompetency on those ends that a diagnosis managed to elude me for nineteen years straight. (Vividly recalling the time my school had a counselor give me an impromptu autism evaluation, in which she concluded that I "didn't seem to have autism, but would probably get along really well with autistic people." WHATEVER THAT MEANT.) But! It's not impossible to get someone who knows what they're doing! I'd love to say otherwise, but I really did just stumble into a decent doctor... There's a lot of luck involved, and man. I did not get good RNG at first. (← I'M SORRY FOR BEING A GAMER.)

I went into the evaluation doubting I had it, and heavily doubting that I'd be diagnosed, but like... Hold on let me reach across your desk and slide you the answers to the autism test. The trick is to not even try to be normal, I think. Intermittently talk about CRT monitors, and how you like learning ciphers, and Pokemon glitches—or whatever else you're into. But those specifically worked for me! "Don't mask", is what I'm saying. (Really though, I think if you're answering everything to the best of your ability, properly administered tests done by a doctor who doesn't suck should be able to diagnosis you. If they don't, then the problem is something systemic, and far beyond anything I could reasonably give advice about...)

ANYWAY! (x2) I'm honestly not sure if any of this is particularly helpful, but if you decide to pursue it, I wish you luck with getting your diagnosis!! It's definitely a bit of a hellish thing to do—but dammit, if it's worth it to you, then it's definitely worth doing.

YOUR REWARD FOR READING THIS WHOLE POST IS: "Kinesin_walking.gif"

YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH

[deadboyfriendd]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Game

Thank you for the tag <3 @jo-harrington

1) How many works do you have on A03? - none, actually. I haven't made it to tht neck of the woods yet.

2) What's your total AO3 word count? - That would be a big ole 0

3) What fandoms do you write for? - Stranger Things currently. I used to be a writer for The 100 back in my Wattpad days. Sometimes I throw around the idea of writing for Fargo or Criminal Minds.

4) What are your top five fics by kudos? - I would say probably Stains in the Granite, Cochise, Stone Gothic, H E A D L I N E R S., Kate, and The Bisbee Letter Series

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? - I try really hard to respond to the really meaningful ones, but if I have poo brain that day it slips. I read all of them and reread them over and over until they're engrained in my noodle brain though! .

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - Stone Gothic or Sockpuppet. Stone Gothic is angst in terms of bodily violence Sockpuppet in terms of ouchie feelings OR OR OR She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty. Can you tell I love angst?

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Hallmark, probably. That was kind of the whole point of doing a Hallmark movie themed fic.

8) Do you get hate on fics? No.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kinds? - Yes but it has to be there as a plot catalyst. I write very flowery very feelings-oriented smut, even if the characters don't have feelings for each other. Though, I feel like everything I write is feelings-oriented.

10) Do you write crossovers? - It never went I don't think I've written one yet but if I get a good idea I'm not opposed to it. Maybe if you wanna count SITG or Cochise since they're based off of 50 First Dates and Tombstone?

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? - Not that I’m aware of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? - Again, not that I'm aware of.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? - Nothing that I would explicitly credit myself with but @dr-aculaaa and I loom over each other's docs like God. I'm pretty sure Drac has inadvertently written half of my fics.

14) What's your all time favorite ship? -We're big Steddie fans around here. Keep an eye out for a Steddie fic I have brewing.

15) What's a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? - LMAO might be that steddie fic that I just talked about. I also have a very flowery and angsty AU of an AU of an AU baby about Robin that I've been screaming to her about that is on the very back of burners.

16) What are your writing strengths? - I'm really good at analogies and descriptive writing. I've always written about feelings because I have a lot of them and I'm painfully self-aware of them.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? - LMAO editing process? I don't know her. Every work you get is beta read by Drac and that's IT. If it misses Drac then it was meant to be a part of the fic. In terms of my actual writing, I think it's smut writing. I'm good at making people love each other not good at making them fuck.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? - There has to be a place for it that makes sense. I used lines in Latin in Cochise and Bisbee because my Eddie is very much based off of Doc Holliday, who spoke Latin, and used that line very much as a plot catalyst. I use a lot of analogies to Marlowe's Doctor Faustus which also has Latin in it, which was crucial to the storylines of both Bisbee and Cochise.

19) First fandom you wrote for? - The Walking Dead when I was entirely too young to be fic reading or writing. Maybe One Direction before that? Also W A Y too young to be fic reading or writing. The first fandom I ever had success writing in was The 100. Still too young but I'm proud of those 100k notes.

20) Favorite fic you've written? - The Cochise and Bisbee universe. I LOVE writing in that prose and I LOVE reimagining these characters into Tombstone. It's so personal to me since I'm from Arizona and I love living here and all of the cowboy stuff. It feels like I neglect it sometimes but really, I'm trying so hard to get them perfect because this is absolutely my passion project and I'm so proud of them even though they get like zero reads.

No Pressure Tags: @dr-aculaaa @bettyfrommars

[manwalksintobar]

Ntozake Shange to Eisa Davis

          querida antigua eisa,

you almost got it-you really did ‘born of the blood of struggle’ we all were/ even if we don’t know it/ what if poetry isn’t enuf? whatchu gonna do then? paint     ? dance     ? put your back field in motion & wait for james brown to fall on his knees like it’s too much for him/ what? too much for james? yeah/ didn’t you ever see the sweat from his brow/ a libation of passion make a semi-circle fronta his body/ a half-moon of exertion washin’ away any hope he had of/ standin’ it/ can’t stand it & he falls to his knees and three jamesian niggahs in a stroll so sharp it hurts bring him a cape that shines likes the northern star/shinin' i say like you imagined the grease in the parts of yr hair or yr legs/or yr mother's face after rehearsal after she had you/ james falls to his knees cuz he “cain't take it"/he's pleadin’ please please please don't go we look to see who brought james brown to the floor / so weak/ we think/ so overwrought with the power of love that’s why poetry is enuf/ eisa/ it brings us to our knees & when we look up from our puddles of sweat/ the world's still right there & the children still have bruises tiny white satin caskets & their mothers weep like mary shda there is nothing more sacred than a glimpse of power of the universe it brought james brown to his knees lil anthony too/ even jackie wilson arrogant pretty muthafuckah he was/ dropped no knee pads in the face of the might we have to contend with/ & sometimes yng blk boys bleed to death face down on asphalt cuz fallin' to they knees was not cool/ the way to go/it ain't fallin' to our knees is a public admission a great big ol' scarlet letter that we cain't/ don't wanna escape  any feelin'/ any sensation of bein' alive can come right down on us/ & yes my tears & sweat may decorate the ground like a veve in haiti or a sand drawing in melbourne/ but in the swooning/ in the delirium/ of a felt life lies a poem to be proud of/ does it matter? can ya stand up, chile? the point is not to fall down & get up dustin' our bottoms/ i always hated it when folks said that to me/ the point eisa/ is to fall on your knees & let the joy of survivin' bring you to yr feet/ yr bottom's not dirty/ didn't even graze the earth/ no it's the stuff of livin' fully that makes the spirit of the poem let you show yr face again & again & again i usedta hide myself in jewelry or huge dark glasses big hats long pillowin' skirts/ anythin' to protect me/ from the gazes somebody'd see i'd lived a lil bit/ felt somethin' too terrible for casual      conversation & all this was obvious from lookin' in my eyes/ that's why i usedta read      poem after poem with my eyes shut/ quite a feat/ cept the memory'd take over &      leave my tequila bodyguard in a corner somewhere out the way of the pain in my eyes that simply came through my body/ they say my hands sculpt the air with words/ my face becomes the visage of a character's voice/ i don't know i left my craft to chance & fear someone wd see i care too much take me for a chump laugh & go home this is not what happened? is poetry enuf to man a picket line/ to answer to phones at the rape crisis center/ to shield women entering abortion clinics from      demons with crosses & illiterate signs defiling the horizon at dawn/ to keep our      children from believin' that they can buy hope with a pair of sneakers or another      nasty filter for        cheap glass pipe/ no/ no/ a million times no but poetry can bring those bleeding women & children outta time up close enuf for us to see feel ourselves there/ then the separations what makes me/ me & you/ you/// drops away & the truth that we      constantly avoid/ shut our eyes to/ hold our breath hopin' we won't be found out/ surfaces/ darlin'/ & we are all everyone of those dark & hurtin' places/ those dry bloodied memories are no less ours than the mornin/ yes the mournin' we may be honorable enuf to endure with our eyes open the coroner cannot simply bring her hand gently down our eyelids/      leavin' us to the silence of not life/ the solitude of the unreachable can ya stand up, 'chile? hands stretched out to touch again not so you can get up & conquer the world/ you did that when you cdnt raise yr head & yr body trembled so/ you scared yr mama that was when the poem took over & you gave you      back what you discovered you didn't haveta give up/ all that fullness of breath/ houdini in an emotional maze/ free at last but nobody can see how you did it/ 'how'd she get out'/ nobody'll know less you tell em/ do you really wanna write/ from twenty thousand leagues under a stranger's wailin? can you move gracefully randomly thru the landmines that are yr own angola/ hey, your bosnia! are you shamed sometimes there's no feelin' you can recognize in yr left leg? does the bleeding you'll do anyway offend you or can you make a sacred drawing like ana mendieta that will heal us all? do i believe in magic? hell yeah. shd you? i don't know. don't know how yr gonna find yr way out the maze/ ancient as it is no one can tell you the secret/ not me/ not aunt angela/ not yr mama beautiful as she is/ i usedta watch her legs cut thru space like a ninja in      ballet shoes/ i wanted to be tall & clear-eyed like yr mama/ & you come tellin'      me i cd beat you up in a school yard/ no my daddy wda bought the school yard & paid kids not to hurt me/ so what you see is not what you get i am not a poem/ i am savannah's mother/ savannah sat with her bottle      thru the children's class at stanze's once we moved to texas/ but i was always lookin’ for your mother's legs to come slicing the air/ ten years later/      2000 miles away/ed mock dead/ tower of power fallen/ sly stone disappeared/      oakland like the back of my hand/ now unknown/ "get it & feel good" i usedta      say sometimes still do/ diffrence is i cherish stupid lil things now/ did yr      mama tell you raymond asked our whole class after a bout with possessed drummers and gravity/ if we ever took our dance clothes off/ he could smell us comin'       cross the Bay Bridge/ he shouted & pranced like somekinda stallion/ like his sweat      didn't stink too/workin' in the other realm is dirty work/ makes us smell bad/      did yr mama tell ya? i know she didn't let ya believe makin' art was not a messy      business/ she cdn't have/ we were trained too well is poetry enuf, eisa? that's gonna be up to you? is poetry enuf for me? why do you think i wrote 'for colored girls' i wanted yall to come out from under yr starched pinafores & pressed      heads with some notion of dream & sanctity of spirit/ looks like some of it worked but remember i'm still writin' still dancin' fell on my knees so many times now/ i wrote rev. ike for a prayer cloth it's serious like that peaceful like that i sweat when i write/ do you?           the original aboriginal dancin' girl           love,           ntozake

[yesyourstalker]

Warabi: ikkan!!! Ikkan! Open the fucking do- oh.. hey Neta.

Neta: ikkan went out. He has a meeting with ink towers studios. He's working on a soundtrack for some movie...... Why are you here

Warabi: yeah I know I'm supposed to be there but I told him I'll get ready at his place ..... He left an hour early as usual.

Neta: well make it quick. I have to open up shop in an hour... Don't want you snooping though my shit.

Warabi: yeah.... Yeah what ever Neta..... You know when ikkan told me he got a boyfriend I thought 'wow that's great. He needed to get laid'

Neta: watch it.

Warabi: 'he's so up tight and standoffish, a partner would be good for him' you know what? It is good for him. He changed. I mean he's no social butterfly but he's become a little more open, slightly vulnerable. His smiles are slightly bigger and he's able to hold a conversation that's more than 2 minutes.

Like his vibes have completely changed. He walks into the studio and the whole room gets a little bit lighter. I thought to myself wow this guy must be great for ikkan. I have to meet this guy I have to see the man who got lill ol ikkan out of his shell. Come to find it's this jealous possessive ass with an attitude problem and always has something negative to say about me. Well apparently everyone has something negative say about me nowadays.

Neta: there's a lot to say about you. you can't help it, You're just that irritating. Now do what you need to do and go. Also I'm not jealous! I've actually known ikkan longer than he's known you.

Warabi: you know what you are such an asshole! What did I do to you honestly?! I'm not going to steal ikkan away from you! If I wanted to I would have done it by now.

Neta: watch it!

Warabi: NO YOU WATCH IT! I'M SO TIRED OF YOU TREATING ME LIKE SHIT LIKE IM LESS OF A CEPHALOPOD. I EXPECT THAT FROM OTHERS I NEVER EXPECTED IT FROM YOU!! I'M ALREADY HAVING A SHIT DAY! I DON'T NEED YOU TO MAKE IT WORSE!.................

Neta:................... Are you crying?

Warabi: .............. (Crying) Cod shut up!!! (full on sobbing)

Neta: *sigh* ok ....... what happened what do mean by that?

Warabi: sniff...... It's nothing........ It doesn't concern you

Neta: Warabi I'm actually trying to be nice to you just please tell me-

Warabi: some one told inksider Media that my grandfather is Octavio and it spread to other news sources and so many are like asking me weird questions and accusing me of things and spreading lies that I'm a spy or that I was in the military and that I was a part of some coup against inklings and the meeting is just the movie producers telling us that they don't want diss-pair to be a part of the movie or the soundtrack anymore because of the controversy and everything is happening all at once on my way here someone told me to go back to the sewers *gasp* (incoherent sobbing) I don't know what to do! (harder sobbing) I'VE NEVER BEEN TO THE SEWERS

Neta:.............. Ok l.... -

Warabi: *sigh* I just wanted to get dressed and just try to make it through the day and then you come in your usual asshole self just treats me like garbage and I don't need it right now..... Especially from you.

Neta: ........

Warabi:...... *Sniff* I don't know a lot of octarians .... I spent most of my life on the surface in other countries..... I know I'm so privileged..... I was surrounded by mostly fishlings, coral and anatomies I was barely around any cephalopods growing up. My parents were no help and they were barely around they didn't teach me anything about the culture. I moved to Inkopolis and I made mostly inkling friends the only octarian that I could truly call my friend was Marina and then I met you.

Neta: .......

Warabi: (ugly crying) I was really excited to meet you. I've seen you play with squid squad. like wow another octarian he is a part of the culture, he could probably teach me about octarian stuff, real octarian culture. all I got was the cold shoulder and anger! And for what!? What did I do!? That really hurt Neta! it really did. (Sobbing but not as hard as it was)

Neta: nothing....... You did absolutely nothing to deserve that..... I'm sorry.... I guess part of it is jealousy.... I guess

Warabi: uh my Cod I don't want to fuck ikkan! I don't even know why you want to! He's weird, emotionally impotent and owns two pairs of shoes!

Neta: no that's not what I meant and that's not true He's very emotional just not in public.

What I meant by jealousy. I meant I was jealous of you. Like you said you were on the surface your whole entire life. I spent 14 years not even knowing what the real sun looked like....my mom never never got to see it she didn't even know what rain was hehe ....... I guess I was just angry that I didn't get to have that life that you had. I hate when people call it the sewers but that's what they were. Those bunkers were part of abandoned sewers left by mammalian, I lived in the lowest rundown part. We had to boil all our water and freeze and try to preserve our food because we always got it a week past the expiration date. The closest school available for me was near octo valley which is like an hour away so I had to get up extra early just to go to school. The kids are nicer areas used to say that I smell bad. I probably did because again the sewers. We didn't have enough water so we had to bathe at least once a month. Honestly it's still something I'm self-conscious about I haven't been home in like 20 something years and I still worry that I smell like waist water....

Warabi: you don't

Neta thank you........ It was mean when they said it. It was so much worse when I went to the surface for a mission and I snuck off to play turf war you know like a regular kid. Some shitty little inkling covered his nose and said that I smelled like a toilet......... That hits so different..... I felt this intense shame when he said that..... Like I was less than I was beneath them.....*Sniff*.....

Warabi: looks like we're both crying huh

Neta: heh I guess hehe. so Instead of actually dealing with that trauma I just took it out on you, thinking that you believed you were above everybody else because of your life.

Warabi : That's not true I'm very grateful for what I have and I don't look down on others who don't............ What did you do

Neta: huh?

Warabi: when he said that you smell like a toilet. What do you do? How do you react to that kind of stuff? I was on the train and some urchin just said go back to the sewers to my face. I don't- I froze, I was shocked. I didn't say anything to him, I should have done something and I didn't know what I should have done.

Neta: That's the shitty thing about it you can't do anything sometimes. If you say something then they're just going to paint you as this violent reactionary octarian and if you ignore them they're just going to assume that you don't speak inkish and if you don't even bother speaking the language what's the point in being here. it's a lose lose situation and sometimes you just...............you just have to let them be. It's frustrating but you look at them and let them know that you understood what they said and look away. Don't give them the satisfaction of being offended because that's what they want they want a reaction and you don't give them one.

Warabi: (deep sigh) ok. And what about the other stuff All these rumors about me and my grandfather I had no control in what he does. Why are they blaming me for all his shit!

Neta: you have squitter right?

Warabi: yeah

Neta: just make a thread and tell your side of the story Tell the truth. You're related to Octavio and that's it. You don't work for him, you don't work with him and you are not associated with anything. You're not a spy you were never in the military. The only thing that they got right was that he is your grandfather and for those who are spreading those lies and choosing to believe those lies you need to check their biases and prejudice against octarians that's all you need to say and that's all you need to do. If someone has something to say let ikkan or Marina or any of your friends support you and let them deal with naysayers. This will All blow over okay trust me. When I joined the squid squad it felt everyone hated me. I was replacing their favorite member. They didn't like that and they tried to find any reason to dislike me and they used me being octarian as a reason. Saying crap like 'I'm not even squid why would he even join' 'are we sure we can trust him' 'he looks like a criminal' a lot of stuff just don't let it get to you I guarantee they're just a vocal minority.

Warabi: ok.............. Thank you....

Neta: it's not a problem..... I'm sorry I did you so terribly I just-

[Hug]

Warabi: doesn't matter now ......

Neta: [hugs back ]

Warabi.. .. Oh shit! I'm late for the meeting I'm not even dressed!

Neta: screw that meeting. You said that they're only having the meeting so they can fire you from some shit movie you don't need to deal with that let ikkan handle it. You want to come to work with me at the mall? they have an abandoned movie theater and a shrimp Castle

Warabi: oh my Cod Yes! are we becoming best friends? All we needed to do was trauma bond oh ikkan is going to hate this!!

Neta: HA yeah he will...........and he's not that weird

Warabi: I once caught him sucking on his shirt collar when he was working on a song

Neta: see that's cute.... means he was focused

Warabi: ugh..........whatever you say he's your partner

[cyberbullyinc]

i dreamed i got a scam call and i was like lmao this is obviously a scam and started chatting with the scammer about it lmfao i also dreamed i saw several ang*l lookalikes at the mall and it was obvious that it made me feel a type of way bc the friend i was with was like “hmm ur type is the weatherman!” which idk what the fuck it means but apparently ang*l is weatherman shaped lmfao and later we did ran into him and he sat with us and he was acting just like i remember (like a little kid with a crush on u who doesn’t know how to say it so he pulls ur braids instead) but it was one of those rare times that it had a sprinkle of “this might actually happen” just like in the good ol times 🙃 but i was so worn out that i didn’t react on the outside, on the inside i was a mess as per usual (am i imagining this? maybe im just imagining things, maybe this doesn’t mean anything, maybe he doesn’t realize, maybe im seeing things that aren’t there) so he gave me a peck but i didn’t react, i didnt kiss him back bc i was too busy convincing myself it wasn’t actually happening cuz it never did and i was always crazy if i thought it did so then my friend and i left and on the outside again i was cool but on the inside i was like… i fucked up, it was my chance and i missed it, this means i lost forever and ever and ever because i didn’t read the signs and when it actually happened i was “too cool” for it, or too over it, now he thinks i don’t want it and he’ll never try it again because i wasted my chance… did it mean anything? maybe im overthinking this, maybe it didn’t even mean anything, maybe he just wanted to see how id react, maybe i passed the test, or i failed it, either option is the wrong one but those are the only options i have………. damn it really was like the old days 😐 at this point i need a lobotomy fr like i haven’t seen him in years, i don’t think about him except once in awhile when i randomly dream of him, i don’t check on him i don’t keep tabs on him i have a fucking bf for fucks sake and he’s still there!!!!!! like please please please what do i gotta do!!!!! does it ever go away?

[justicerikai]

Charisma House - Superhuman Sharehouse Story “Charisma” - #4 Rebel (Sarukawa Kei)

The Charisma of Rebel, Sarukawa Kei. He will always resist or rebel against any little thing.

Please read alongside listening to the drama track on Youtube.

Terra: So sleepy…

Terra: Geh, It’s Amahiko

Amahiko: Why goodmorning Terra-san

Amahiko: You’re sexy too this morning.

Terra: Shoo shoo

Amahiko: Fufu. Well then, I’ll be seeing you tonight

(Amahiko walks away)

Terra: Ha? What’s tonight. How terrifying.

(Sarukawa walks in)

Terra: Ah, goodmorning Sarukawa-kun

Sarukawa: ‘sup

Terra: Hm? Today’s omelet huh. Terra-kun’s a big fan. Nice choice Iori-kun.

Terra: Sarukawa-kun, could you give me the ketchup?

Sarukawa: No way

Terra: Thank you-…

Terra: Eh?

Sarukawa: Ah?

Terra: Hah?

Sarukawa: Haah?

Terra: Um… There’s a ketchup bottle in front of you right now, yeah?

Sarukawa: Yep, there is

Terra: Like, 50 cm away from you, right

Sarukawa: Yuh

Terra: So then don’t you want to take that and pass it over to Terra-kun?

Sarukawa: Hell no

Terra: Ha?

Sarukawa: Aahn?

Terra: Why?

Sarukawa: What

Terra: The ketchup

Sarukawa: It’s here, ain’t it?

Terra: That’s why I’m saying to give it to me

Sarukawa: Abso-lutely, not

Terra: Why? It’s right in front of you, isn’t it?

Terra: Everything’ll be all good if you just swoop it up and chuck it over

Sarukawa: I am, definitely ain’t giving you any ketchup!

Terra: What’s up with him… is he a kid? So annoying, just hand it over

Sarukawa: Shuddahellup! Don’t order me around! I’m the one choosing how to live his own life here. I ain’t taking anyone’s orders. Even if everyone in this whole ass world would do the same, I’d just hurl ‘em a big ol’ no

Sarukawa: That’s who I am, give it up

Terra: All I did was tell you to give me the ketchup though, who’re you picking a fight with?

Sarukawa: Grab it yourself if you need it, don’t boss me around

Terra: What a small-minded man

Sarukawa: Shuddup

Terra: Same could be said for your height

Sarukawa: I’m gon’ kill you

Terra: Listen, behaving the way you do towards a fine man like me will result in death by punishment, you know?

Sarukawa: Haaah? What the hell’s so fine ‘bout you. Ain’tcha just a gangly, rotting bean sprout bastard, huh

Terra: Hah!?

Terra: Haaaaah!?

Terra: HaaaAAAAAAAH!

Terra: Drop dead you ape

Terra: Okay, okay enough of this I’ll get it myself. No need to pass the ketchup or whatever-

Sarukawa: Here ya go

Terra: Wah? Eh? Why did you suddenly give it to me?

Sarukawa: Give what

Terra: The ketchup,

Sarukawa: Eh? Huh, AaaAAGH!

Terra: Don’t tell me… is it because I said that you didn’t need to, that rebelled and gave me it without thinking?

Sarukawa: Gh…

Terra: Right? You won’t do what you’re told, but you will do what you’re told not to do

(Terra grabbing onto Sarukawa trying to run away)

Terra: Now hold on a second

(Sarukawa struggling)

Sarukawa: Stop! Let go!

Terra: Don’t fight back, no wait, Sarukawa-kun struggle some more

(Sarukawa stops)

Terra: He stopped

Terra: Fufufu. I see, that’s how you are.

Sarukawa: L-let go…!

-

Terra: Sarukawa-kun, you like, totally can’t massage my shoulders, okay?

Sarukawa: I’ll damn do it.

(Sarukawa massages Terra)

Terra: Hmm, feels nice. Thanks

Sarukawa: Guah!! Goddamnit!

-

Terra: Sarukawa-kun, you totally can’t iron my shirts, okay?

(Sarukawa ironing)

Terra: I need to leave soon, not done yet?

Sarukawa: Hold on just a sec! There’s still some wrinkles left

Terra: Thanks!

Sarukawa: GODDAMNIIIIIIIT—!

-

Terra: You totally can’t be seeing me off while cutely waving and telling me “have a safe trip”, okay?

Sarukawa: Have a safe triiiip

Terra: I’ll be off then! See ya, Sarukawa-kun

Rikai: Why, Saru

Rikai: You bastard do have it in you to be useful to others, don’t you. Way to go! Keep at it and you’ll become a splendid member of society.

Rikai: Hahahahaha, aaaahaHAAAAAAHAHAHAHA—!

Sarukawa: Goddamnit—

Sarukawa: FUCK MY LIIIIFEEEEEEE——!

Charisma charge: SUCCESS

Sarukawa Kei, Terra, Tendou Amahiko, Kusanagi Rikai