#KNOWING that no one was fucking seeing that and it wasn't fucking doing anything but paying lip service lmao

[cherrygirlfriend]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ pilates princess

pairing: sunshine!reader x bf!rafe synopsis: rafe catches reader working out tags / warnings: fluff, smut (no actual sex but graphic descriptions of fantasies) wc: 900

a/n; this is for the pilates princesses (also originally this fic wasn't in the sunshineverse but it is now... mwahahahaha) originally posted 10/12/2024

rafe was knocking on your door impatiently, wanting to see you more than anything after the day he had, finding out that the development he had been busting his ass for for months had been delayed, but you weren't answering the door or even his texts telling you to open the door; that didn't stop him, the man knowing where your parents kept the spare key, getting it out of a pot of asterias, opening the door. you'd told him he could only use it 'only in case of emergencies', but to him, this constituted as an emergency.

rafe didn't bother to put the key back as he walked further into the house, hearing the noise of the television coming from your living room. he made his way to the living room, his eyes widening slightly when he saw exactly what had you so busy.

you were splayed on the floor, a pink workout mat underneath you, watching some workout video on your tv while your headphones were on, wearing a pair of pink fitness shorts that made your ass look so good he was almost drooling, along with a white sports bra, turned away from him, one of your hands splayed on the ground while the other one was bent on your head, one of your knees on the mat while your other was reaching up.

"jesus christ." he mumbled as he stared at you, the curve of your ass in those pink shorts causing his dick to stir in his shorts.

only a few seconds later, you moved to sit down on the mat, only to be startled by your boyfriend shamelessly ogling you, letting out a small gasp as you basically fell on your ass on the mat, your eyes widening.

you took off your headphones, throwing them onto the couch behind you, and even though your face was already warm and flushed, it seemed to get worse when you noticed him staring at you. "rafe!" you exclaimed as you stood up, his eyes now locked onto your hardened nipples under the sports bra, your tits almost pressed together, a sheen of sweat running down your cleavage.

"jesus fucking christ." he said, licking his lips slightly as you took your pink zip-up jacket and put it on, yet the way it clung to your body and the small sliver of your sports bra did almost nothing to hide how delicious you looked. "no, no, baby, don't stop on my accord." rafe grinned, his hands on your waist, aware that he was sporting a pretty obvious hard-on as he pulled you closer.

"i don't want you to see me all gross and sweaty." you pouted, and the way you sucked your lip in made nothing to calm down the obvious tent in his shorts.

"you look so fucking sexy right now." he said, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel his hard-on press against your abdomen, the blonde letting out a small groan from only that contact. "literally, i've never... jesus."

"i'm not sexy right now." you roll your eyes, pushing away a stray hair that had stuck to your cheek, trying to look down in embarrassment.

"you're kidding, right?" rafe snorted, his hand going lower and lower, almost going to the curve to your ass. "i think you can feel how sexy you look, huh?" he took hold of your chin with his fingers, and lifted it up, making you look up at him. "if you didn't want to wait longer, do you know the things i'd do to you?"

"w-what?" you asked in a way that was almost a whisper, biting your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes.

"fuck, i'd just rip that cute little set off and take you right here on the couch. i'd make you ride me, give you a workout that's much better than this crap you're doing, your tits bouncing in my face, my hands gripping those pretty thighs... shit, i might cum just thinking about it."

you softly smacked him in the chest, feeling a warmth in your abdomen only he managed to cause, sure that you'd never blushed so hard in your life. "raafee..."

he brings your face up to his, bringing your lips to his as he bent down slightly, the kiss much more heated than any other kiss that you'd shared, his hand now on the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that made you gasp against his lips, his other hand now in your hair.

after a moment, you pulled away breathlessly, his erection had somehow gotten even worse than before, your lips swollen and a doe-eyed look in your eyes. "we should... uh, we should stop, since, you know..."

"yeah, i know baby." he rolled his eyes exasperatedly, before chuckling softly. "god, i'm not gonna forget this little outfit in a while. lemme take a pic of it?"

"noo, i look gross!"

"don't talk about my girl like that." he tsked, taking hold of your jaw. "come on, i need something to get myself off to later."

"alright, fine." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, before letting out a small chuckle as you started unzipping your jacket.

[pha55ed]

Midnight Cravings || CL16

type :: smut - blurb

tw/cw :: cock warming, edging?, somnophilia, pinch of size kink

summary :: being a f1 driver means he's constantly grinding on the stim. you can relate since you're always grinding on him

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || OVULATING CELLY!!!

Everyone says you're so lucky for marrying a rich man, which you are! You don't have to pay for a single thing: bills, clothes, makeup, food, anything! But the only thing you did need to do was keep him satisfied, which Charles will always say you do.

He's on his stim, yet again. He needed to perfect his laps for the upcoming race. With Hamilton as his new partner, he was a tad bit scared. The idea of being replaced used to seem like an insane idea. But after seeing Carlos be tossed away: Charle's newest nightmare was no longer "box box" but instead "I also understand it was never going to be Charles."

So you're there with him, comforting him in the best way possible. His dick buried deep inside of you while you watch him race. Your back was against his chest with his chin resting on your shoulder. You're sure that this angle is going to hurt his neck, but he simply shushes you and says his neck is one of his strongest muscles.

And if you don't shut up, then he'll quickly pause the game and make you shut up.

"It's almost 12am Charles," You say softly as you watch him restart the lap after slightly messing up on a turn. "You need to rest."

"Just..." He stops as he locks in at a hard turn. "Just a few more." he insists.

You huff, shifting you legs slightly. Moving was strictly against Charle's rules for cock-warming on the stim. Only he was allowed to move and pick when you two could fuck. The main reason being that last time you topped him, the stim broke. From "water" damage, is what he told Ferrari so they'd send him a new one.

"Stop that." He demands, his tone was quick as he continued to race He knew you wouldn't disobey him twice.

So you sat there, just staring at the screen. Patiently waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting... Gosh you're so sleepy. And you can't resist the urge to shut your eyes, so you do.

And before Charles knows it, you're fast asleep with his dick still deep inside of you. Filling you up to the top, barely brushing against the tippy top of your insides. You thank God that Charles wasn't any bigger or else you'd be sent to the hospital every day.

Once Charles is satisfied, he lets out a sigh of relief as he looks down at you for once. Seeing your peaceful face and trust in him made him so soft inside. But his dick was the opposite, if anything it was harder. Now his new task to complete was to see how he could cum without waking you up.

[beaniebaneenie]

If y'all think there will still be free and fair midterms, you're kidding yourselves.

If you think for one second that he is going to EVER willingly walk away from the oval office, when just a couple weeks ago, a judge explicitly stated that it was ONLY the power and office of the presidency that was keeping his orange ass out of jail?

I have a bridge in New York that I'd like to sell you.

For those of you playing the Home Game, we are HERE.

GOP has all three branches, and I'd say we're going to get some form of Enabling Act within the next 12 months.

The American people are pretty comfy in their knowledge that presidents can only be president for 8 years tops. That wasn't a law until after FDR though.

Before then, it was literally just "respect for George Washington" and "tradition" that kept people ending their terms then. Now, this country needed a solid base of leadership through WW2, which is why FDR broke the tradition and ran again. And again. He was also a very good president and won by huge margins.

But if you think that Trump is going to peaceably and happily just waltz out at the end of 4 years because "the law says I can't be president anymore", then you haven't been paying attention or are willfully deluded.

This man has already attempted a coup once. And received zero punishment or consequences for it. He WILL try again. And he will not wait another four years to do it.

Things are going to be bad, and get ugly fast.

Cultural and political "norms" and expectations are going to be discarded with extreme prejudice. The propaganda is going to be INTENSE.

Hell, just scroll up on this post. Cheeto spent years saying he was going to get rid of tiktok and how horrible it was- and now even the fucking app is thanking him for being the one who "saved" it, less than 24 hours later.

And if you know anything about government, and how long it takes to get anything done, you will realize that this was fucking planned.

And it was absolutely an attempt to get young folks thinking he's cool and hip and that he's "saved" their free speech, and "saved" their rent by continuing their access to the app that pays their rent. It's propaganda to make him the hero in their eyes.

And with places like Facebook banning fact-checking, it's going to be even worse.

Find independent news sources. Triple check information. If you see something hinky, ask yourself, "who benefits if I believe this?" and "who does this version of events serve, who does it demonize?"

Now is the time to fight back with absolutely everything.

Trump is probably going to remove the TikTok ban shortly after his inauguration and secure a chunk of the youth vote.

[prettyboykatsuki]

toji’s cock is just ridiculous for a regular man like

its crazy.

like. genuinely. i dont think you fathom how big it really is because early into your relationship - you just dont see his dick a lot. you can feel it pressed up against you or sometimes you catch a glimpse of it in his hand when he jerks himself off

and you know it's above average but its like. toji just wont let you see it. and for a long time you don't get why. it feels like he's shorting you somehow. and when you bring it up he always says the same thing, maybe eventually when you're more experienced. when you can take three of his fingers without breaking a sweat.

its not really a matter of benevolence on his end but he knows you're gonna try to be brave about taking him if he lets you. you're so stubborn and ridiculous you'll trip all over yourself trying to shove the thing in you all in one go.

he just doesnt want you to do anything stupid.

its not that toji doesnt want to fuck you. but in the same way you threw yourself at him in some aspect, he thinks you're bound to be reckless and do it again.

and predictably you do eventually get . whiny enough, desperate enough to do that. paw at the waistband of his pants like he's neglecting you of something and you look like you're gonna burst into tears and he just sighs. tells you to quit your crying and hold still

he wont fuck you. not yet. but you can see it if it gets you to shut up.

and you.... honestly underestimated how big toji would actually be.

he never really says it. he just says it'll be too much for you which is part of what you find so frustrating. but he wasn't showing humility really, just didn't think there was any sense in bragging.

he's huge. his cock is fucking huge. its not something you are prepared for despite your insistence that you are. its the size of your forearm—too much. too thick. too heavy. you try to wrap your hand around it and it's like a fucking pole and you can barely do that. your fingers barely touch when you use one hand. it's alarming to say the least.

just looking at it makes your thighs feel weak. you're shaking like a little leaf in his arms and toji can't even laugh really. just sighs and says he told you so. he's about to give you some corny speech about it too.

so imagine his utter confusion when you blurt out.

"i want you to fuck me. right now. please,"

[themultifanshipper]

Dom lando convincing Oscar to try different types of sex toys and lando loving it as much as Oscar and maybe I could see Oscar being a size queen just loving being filled either by lando or dildos like big bigggg ones

The first time Lando suggested it, he'd been joking. 

But the look on Oscar's face, and the fact that he came prematurely as soon as the words were out of Lando's mouth, told Lando everything he needed to know about what Oscar thought of the idea. 

Warnings:  smut, fingering, fisting, using big-ass dildos, blowjob, crying, Lando being a bit mean

Lando was big.  

Not in like, a ‘I have a big dick and an ego to match’ way, but he was fucking big. 

And he was actually quite shy about it, because sometimes it could make sex quite difficult if his partners weren't prepped thoroughly. 

Sometimes he bottomed just to avoid the conversation and hassle. Which he did enjoy, but he preferred to be the top.  

And a rather dominant top at that. 

So when Oscar mentioned to him offhandedly that he could take anything, he had to see for himself. 

They ended up in bed together several times before the afore mentioned incident. 

Oscar was a noisy bottom, and Lando had been getting a bit too into the prepping part and had decided to go up to four fingers and make Oscar come like that. 

And he jokingly said something along the lines of “What if I put all my fingers in? I bet I could get my whole fist inside you.” 

And, well. Oscar came without uttering a single word about it. But he didn't need to. 

Lando got his dick in him as soon as he could and that was the end of the conversation. 

Until the next day when he brought it up again, in the conference room of all places. 

Oscar choked on his coffee and stared daggers at Lando. Thank god they were the only ones in there. 

Long story short, that very night was the first time Lando got a whole fist in Oscar, and they both came completely untouched. 

But Lando was nothing if not greedy. He wanted more. 

He wanted to see how much Oscar could really take. 

And Oscar was insatiable in nature so he readily agreed to Lando's antics. 

Every few weeks he would come home and find Lando sitting there with an unopened amazon box. 

He never opened them on his own. He would always wait for Oscar to come home and open it, because he wanted to see the hungry look in his eyes when he saw each toy for the first time. 

Dildo number four made his eyes widen and his mouth water. 

It was a good 3 inches wide, and made Lando's cock look like a tooth pick, no offense. 

That night they did their usual ritual. 

Oscar had been wearing a big plug for a few hours to help with the prep. 

Lando grabbed a bottle of lube (they had about 30 bottles, because they were on sale and they used a lot of lube, sue them) and squirted a generous amount on one of the previously bought dildos. 

Oscar sank down on it like a pro, whining at the stretch as Lando held his hips steady so he wouldn't topple over. 

He didn't take long to start riding it, sweat already dampening his hairline as his toned thighs bounced his weight up and down. 

Lando was in awe, as usual. 

He watched as Oscar took it further and further down, moaning like a slut the whole time. It made his dick throb. 

Pretty soon it wasn't enough, and Oscar sank all the way down to the base and huffed. 

“Okay, I'm ready.” He panted. 

Lando nodded, helping him off and putting him on his hands and knees. 

“Spread your legs as far as you can” he muttered excitedly, using as much lube as he could. 

He needed Oscarwet. 

He took a second to admire Oscar, bent over and back arched, hole already gaping slightly. 

“Are you gonna put it in or do I have to do it myself?” 

Lando chuckled, placing the tip against Oscar’s rim. 

“As usual, tell me if anything feels wrong or painful” 

Oscar sighed. “Yes Lando, now put it in me” 

“What's the magic word?”  

“I will fucking leave” 

“Okay, okay” 

He put a bit of pressure on the dildo, making Oscar's rim stretch around it. 

When the head finally popped in, Oscar whimpered pathetically into the sheets. 

“Oh fuck, more” 

Lando laughed, grabbing the lube to squirt some more on the dildo before pushing it in a bit more. 

The man under him let out a bone rattling groan and that encouraged him to push another couple of inches in. 

He pumped it in and out shallowly for a minute, then added a couple more inches. 

Oscar was drooling onto the sheets as he felt the fullness inside him.

“Lando” he panted. “Lando, please. More” 

Lando obliged, and before long, he had almost pushed the whole thing in. Given the size of the damn thing, there was no way his prostate wasn't being constantly stimulated.

“Oscar… fuck. You're doing so good for me, just a little more...”  

He pumped it in and out some more, making Oscar keen and writhe beneath him. 

“Lando! Lando fuck- I'm gonna come!” he whined. 

Lando grinned, he thrusted it faster and harder. 

“Go on then baby, come for me” 

Oscar's body jolted, shockwaves traveling up his spine as he shot ropes of cum across the sheets under him. 

Lando slowly stilled his movements, letting Oscar ride out his intense orgasm. 

Now, up until this point, you could think that Lando wasn't particularly dominant. Just sort of, there, guiding Oscar more than anything. 

You would be wrong. 

The next step was what Lando was truly looking forward to. 

He put the already dirty sheet on the floor, next to the bed. 

“Osc?” 

Oscar gave him an exhausted thumbs up from where he was laying on the bed, the dildo still half way inside him. 

“You're not done yet, baby, come over here” 

He gently pulled the dildo out of his lover, and placed it upright on the floor. 

“You think you can ride it for me?” 

Oscar nodded, crawling over to him on the bed, giving him a quick kiss before standing up and crouching over it. He put his hands on Lando's thighs to stabilise himself.

He sank down on it slowly, head thrown back and his long nails digging into Lando's flesh painfully. 

But Lando didn't care, he was entranced by the way Oscar was stretched around something bigger than his fucking arm.

He managed to sink down about three quarters of the way before he gasped. 

“Jesus, the feeling is much different with this angle” 

One of Lando’s hands went to cup Oscar's jaw, pressing into his cheeks harshly. 

“I want to see you take it. All of it” he snapped.

Oscar whimpered when Lando pushed his thumb into his mouth to press on his tongue. 

Oscar obeyed, sinking further down, inch by inch until his ass met his heels. 

“Good boy”  

A bead of precum leaked from Oscar's tip at the praise, and he lifted his hips slightly only to drop them back down, moaning around Lando's thumb as he did so. 

It wasn't long before he got into a rhythm with his hips, and Lando grabbed him by the hair to bring him closer to his own leaking cock. 

“Give it a kiss” he said, and Oscar looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Go on, you haven't touched it all night. Least you can do is kiss it”  

There it was. Lando's slightly sadistic side. 

Oscar knew better than to argue. 

He kissed the tip, then made his way to the base, placing soft kisses along the skin. 

Lando sighed at finally being touched. “Good, now open your mouth for me” 

Oscar stuck his tongue out for good measure, and wasn't surprised in the least when Lando tapped his cock on it a few times before sinking into the wet heat of his mouth. 

Because Oscar was a size queen, and it didn't just apply to his ass. 

His gag reflex was non-existent, and he adored the feeling of his mouth being stretched around Lando's thick girth. 

“You look so fucking good Osc. You were made to be fucking filled up, weren't you? Stuffed full of cock all day…” 

Being filled from both ends is what really did it for Oscar, so that plus Lando's filthy commentary drove him wild, and it didn't take long before he was whining around it as he came all over himself, eyes rolling into the back of his skull. 

Lando had been on edge for the better part of an hour, so the sight of that alone was enough to send him over himself, rocking his cock in and out of Oscar's mouth as the absolute whore swallowed it all. 

Lando pulled out and let go of his tight hold on Oscar's hair. 

“Now, you're going to do one last thing for me Osc. You're gonna come again...” 

The younger man looked up at him with wide eyes, incredulous at the order. 

"I don't know that I can come again Lando. That took everything out of me“ 

“You can, and you will…” 

He sat back on the bed, leaning on his arm as he took in the sight of his teammate. 

Flushed from his chest up to his cheeks, cock soft where it was hanging between his thighs. 

“I want you to bounce on that dildo, and get yourself off while I watch” 

Lando had a goal in mind. He wanted to see Oscar come dry. 

He'd only done so once before, and it was a beautiful sight. 

Oscar cried, tears streaming down his face while he could do nothing but ride the waves of his orgasm in pure bliss. 

He wanted to see that again. 

And the sheet below Oscar was absolutely soaked, so he had a feeling it would only take one more. 

Oscar looked at him defiantly and raised his hips. 

When he dropped back down, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, and his cock twitched. 

Lando motioned towards it. 

“Go on, give it a tug. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to get off” 

Oscar wrapped a hand around himself, letting out a breath at the contact. 

He hadn't been touched either tonight and he found himself quickly hardening again at the new stimulation. 

His thighs burned as he bounced, hand almost a blur where he was desperately fisting his cock. 

He had tears in his eyes and was moaning freely while looking at Lando with the most torn expression on his face. 

It felt good, too good. He was so overstimulated it bordered on pain, but he kept going. 

“Lando” he whined “help me, please. Talk to me” 

Lando groaned at the almost broken sounds coming out of the younger man. 

“You want me to talk to you, baby? Want me to tell you what a good boy you're being?” 

Oscar nodded desperately. 

“Well, too bad. It's been what, five minutes? And you still haven't come yet. You're such a whore you can't even get yourself off on your own anymore. Fucking pathetic. Worthless sluts like you don’t deserve to be touched, do they? No, so be a good boy for once and fucking. Come.” 

Oscar screeched as he felt his entire body burn with pleasure. His hips stuttered and his hand pumped his cock a couple more times. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

His poor cock throbbed, but only a drop or two of cum dribbled out, dripping down his angry red tip as he cried out. 

Lando got what he wanted. Oscar had tears staining his cheeks as he whimpered pathetically, slumping forwards and panting against the side of the bed. 

Lando helped him off the dildo, laying him down on his back, on the bed with his legs spread. 

Lando looked at where Oscar’s twitching hole was gaping, trying to clench around nothing. 

He was hard again, so he took himself in hand, and with a sight like that in front of him, it didn’t take long for him to come all over Oscar's spread thighs.

When he looked up he saw that Oscar had his arms crossed behind his head and was grinning at him. 

“Did you enjoy that, Lando?” 

Lando nodded, breathing heavily after his orgasm. 

“Yeah, was mint” 

Oscar scoffed and rolled over to get off the bed and make his way to the bathroom. 

“Mint” he ranted “If that's what you want to call it, then sure, it was mint” 

Lando blushed, following him into the shower. 

“you know what I meant” he wrapped his arms around Oscar. “I loved it. Thank you” 

He pressed a kiss to Oscar's nose and the taller man rolled his eyes. 

“Sometimes I don't know why I indulge your fantasies” 

Lando smirked, pressing himself closer to Oscar's body. 

“Because you love me, Osc” 

Oscar looked down at him with pursed lips. 

“Hmm. We'll see…” 

[boysluts]

The way you write sanji with a reader who's in love with him but accepts their fate to not be loved by him like that- its AMAZING and keeps punching me in the heart, sooo for the request

Hurt/comfort love confession with sanji🙏 the reader is talking to another crewmate they trust, they talk about their feelings for sanji and how its tearing them apart. And Sanji overhears it all, maybe it reinforce his own wants with the reader

Okay, I'm so sorry this is SO beyond delayed,,

Heh... I hope this'll be okay, I feel my writing is a tad rusty nowadays, so excuse me!

This is not proofread..so I apologise immensely!

I hope this is actually somewhat enjoyable, I'm fuckin scrambling my brains out

I feel as if this is utterly messy and all over the place,, so please bear with me!

I feel it's rather slow-burn,, and considered just posting this and making a second part, but I might post it as one..not sure if that's better or worse

And I'm so sorry for how long this has taken, and how long it is taking..I promise you I'm trying my best mls 🙏

Okay I know I've said it but this is so rubbish I'm so sorry guys

Sanji calls you Cherie,, cutesy loving nickname, it's already pretty shit but the ending is..more..shit??? Read at your own risk 🙏

AUGHHH AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR HOW DELAYED THIS IS!! I HOPR ITS KINDA ENJOYABLE! MWAUH MWAUH THANK YOU <3

_ _

You and the crew just finished breakfast,,

God it is always such a delight eating meals prepared by your Angel of a cook, anything he makes quite literally tastes like heaven itself.

No matter what he makes, he always makes it taste so good, fuck, he looks so good.

Its a bit shameful how often you find yourself thinking of him, staring at him, stealing glances, you can't help it. He's perfect in your eyes.

Needless to say, you've for sure caught on to your own feelings, you were self aware you had somewhat of a schoolgirl crush on Sanji, and boy did you figure out crushing on a man that treats all women like deities would drain your soul.

It was easy to fall for the treatment and affection, but you liked him beyond that, you love him beyond that, you've been trying so hard to get to know him, and you feel you've made progress, progress in getting to know him, it lights up your world knowing things about him no women, or man would've cared to know or really ask about...

But of course, seeing him flirt with others has taken its toll, of course you know he means well, and nothing much by it, and fuck. Why are you so jealous??? It's not like he's your man, he can do whatever pleases him.

But it sucks, your heart yearns for him, it yearns for him so bad, you hate how such an angelic man has the key to your heart, but doesn't seem to care. Now, unfortunately the crew has noticed your mood has been..quite down

It wasn't much of a surprise they'd noticed though, you were quite literally a ball of fucking sunshine, you matched or..tried to match everyone's energy, but to you, it was quite startling when you were sitting alone on deck, and robin approached you..or rather seemed to have appeared next to you

You didn't notice her presence, for awhile actually, until she cleared her throat, this startled you slightly, and you broke your staring at Sanji being scolded by Nami for doing whatever he was..

"Ahh..! Robin..hi- I didn't see you there" you say, politely, and flashing her a quick smile

She's silent for awhile.

.

.

.

"You don't have to do that, we can tell something is on your mind" she offers, sharing a neutral expression, you nod and sigh "Robin.." You start and you feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to continue "this is so stupid, God. I." You falter and hold your knees up to your chest Robin places a hand on your shoulder and offers a small smile

"It's not stupid, you can talk about it, if you'd like. No pressure, but I hope you know I'm willing to lend my ears anytime" and you silently thank her

She smiles

"Would..would you consider me stupid, for well.." You take a deep breath "I really like him." "Robin- I really, I really like him. I think. I think I love him."

She isn't surprised, she's seen how at a time your mood really depended on how Sanji was that day, how much you spoke, if it was negative or positive, she had quite an insight.

She sighs, and smiles "I know." You look up at her, through teary eyes "but it hurts, because I know this is the same treatment you and nami get too." Untrue she thinks to herself, she's seen in ways Sanji treats you differently than her and Nami..though, she supposes she sees your perspective.

"I know he treats all women equally, but It hurts, i- I know this is selfish, but is it..really that much to ask for him to truly consider something..with me?" Your frown somehow deepens, and you then go on about how hard it is to not just grab his face, kiss him, which..kinda gave her the ick, but she respectfully listens, regardless..

It seems as if you've spent hours venting about how this is weighing you down, how such a stupid thing as a crush is really anchoring and crushing your soul, and as Robin anticipated the waterworks had started, she can't think of words that would be much helpful to your case, so she just tries her hardest to provide physical comfort.

And in the time you'd been spilling your heart out about the stupid love-cook, Robin was aware he was actually listening, she'd noticed him listening, she' noticed him.

And she was sure his ears were burning red.

So when she looked to her side and saw him with a solemn expression but face somehow flushed, she just slightly nodded to him and herself.

She looks over at you, still sulking "it'll be okay, I'm sure you'll figure it out." She says, her tone hinting the obvious, the obvious you were oblivious to.

.

.

.

After awhile of sitting with Robin in pure silence, she speaks up "it's getting late, let's wash up and get some rest, I think you absolutely need some." The same smile still plastered on her face, you sigh, "Ahh right.."

She gets up dusting herself off, and before she walks away you stop her "Robin" and she looks back at you, tilting her head "Thank you, for all of this, thank you for everything" you smile at her, and she smiles back "Always, y/n, you're always welcomed, this is definitely the least I could do for you" you nod, following her, just until you part ways. She shares a room with Nami and you're fortunate enough to have your own room.

You got to your room, rummaging for your nightwear and undergarments, thinking to just wash off quickly and have a proper shower when you wake up. A couple of knocks pause your rummaging

You think it's Nami, probably asking if she could borrow your snowglobe, you know she wants to break it to get the cat out of it, nit thinking it could anyone but her you open the door eyes shut, finger already accusingly pointing "No Nami, You cannot break the snow globe to get the kitty from inside it" you say, letting out a small huff

Instead of the huff and sigh you thought you'd hear, you heard a chuckle instead, ...that doesn't sound like Nami you say to yourself,, you open your eyes to find no one other than Sanji standing right outside your door, a little Embarrassed, you smile awkwardly, and apologise.

"Its alright cherie" Cherie.. he's only called you Cherie a few times, and your not used to it at all, but still, you can't help the smile that spreads or perhaps the slight redness on your face either "is now a bad time?" He asks, smiling at you, confused you look on your bed remembering what you were just about to do, you smile at him "ahh, no no not at all, do you need something?" He looks nervous you think..

"Come with me, Cherie, let's talk over a drink if you don't mind" he says, all smiley, you smile too following close behind. You reach the kitchen and he ushers you to have a seat, while he brings out soda from the fridge. He sits in a way the two of you are looking at each other, he opens your Soda and you thank him with a smile, "So, what's up? What can I help you with, Sanji?" God, you're so fucking cute. He thinks to himself

He takes a breath, before sipping his drink, looking at you to find that your eyes are already all over him, leaving red to flush across his features..not that you could make out in the dim light. "Cherie i like you too." He says, but it comes out as a whisper, as if its a secret so sacred he has no choice but to protect it with his life, you stare at him, in shock, in awe, disbelief even, are you hearing this right?? Are you..Are you dreaming?

He notices your shock and chuckles, " 'm so sorry I wasn't aware that i hadn't made it as obvious as I thought I had.." he says, sounding a little nervous. He's looking at you as if your his whole word. "I- I know it was invasive, but I overheard the whole thing with Robin. I'm sorry, for being so slow, being so oblivious to your feelings," he says again, rubbing the back of his neck. You wanna lunge onto him and kiss him and ask him if he's being serious.

But you're still in awe. He'd been courting you as you'd been him? He Likes you too?

"Well, Sanji. I'm glad it's you"

He reaches for your hand, comfortingly rubbing it. And you just beam at him, he swears he feels his heartbeat 100x faster now, but he smiles back, a little unsure what to take from the ever growing silence. So then you speak "i'm- I'm sorry, I'm just shocked, I had never expected my feelings to be reciprocated, by You nonetheless" God, you can't help but look at him lovingly, like he hung the very stars in the sky.

And then you start, again.

"It'll always be you." You mutter, a little nervously

So, he speaks.

"And I'm glad it's you too, Cherie."

He's glad definitely.

And you can't help the smile you can only imagine gracing your lips. With nervous hands you cup his face and look deep into his eyes, your smile never faltering once. With shaky hands he cups your face too, he's so cute you think. Blush suits him, maybe only when it's you making him blush like this. Such a genuine smile, and you're the cause.

"Cherie" ... he pulls you out of your thoughts and you look at him, can't help but bat your eyelashes at him. You smile.

"Can.. can, i kiss you?" He asks, so Sacred, you had to make sure you were hearing right. But you nod anyway, "Cherie, let me hear you. Please."

You flush, and take in a shaky breath, "of course, you can" and before you know it he's pulled you closer to him, but he so very delicately kisses you, it would've fooled you. A man with no experience? He's quite the kisser.. you've seemed to have pulled his face closer, and you just look at him, he's becoming fidgety,

could you really blame him? He just kissed you. And once the nerves settles he pulls you into him, and you hold him too.

He chuckles nervously, "don't regret me, okay, Cherie?" And you kiss his shoulder, a silent response, but you hope he understands.

You can finally take the time and wrack your brain, make sense of what you two are, that your crewmate dynamic is now changed, you're now what you've wanted to be for a long time, his lover. And he is yours, too.

[tethrawke]

Rook was sidelined so hard, I would really love to know what on earth the live service concept was that was the birth of this mess. I have never cared about a character less. The fact that they cut out Varric's recruitment mission so we never actually SEE why Rook is so much more suited to leading than Harding doesn't help. I mean wasn't Harding the scout leader in Inquisition? It's not like she has 0 experience being in charge? But it feels like... Rook has 0 experience being in charge? I never SAW Rook being a leader before Varric handed over the reigns. And yeah. Rook on their own doesn't do anything? The companions collect the leads and tell you what to do next.

Okay so maybe Rook's job is making sure they all work together. Rook is the manager, not the SME. Fine. Except, they don't need Rook. They all get along PERFECTLY FINE WITHOUT ROOK. There's a little bit of friction with Taash/Emmrich but lbr they'd have figured this out alone or with a different companion's help. Lucanis/Davrin solve their issue alone. If Rook disappeared all of a sudden, those people would still work together just fine... And they do in the last act, literally creating a fake dagger all on their own out of NOWHERE?? Rook never had an idea like that lol. And they save Rook completely on their own too. Like they just. Don't need Rook. At all. If Rook disappeared, Harding or Neve would easily take over and people would follow them. Not to mention how Rook wasn't included in anything ever and always felt like an awkward outsider who wasn't actually invited to the party, but came because they ASSUMED they were when everyone else was talking about it, but no one wanted them to come? If you've seen the B99 episode of the gang going on a trip with Holt where they have their private fun party in the basement while the boring "boss" party no one wants to be at is happening upstairs... That's how I felt the whole game.

I will say though, world-ending odds or not, Hawke was just a much better protagonist because Hawke WAS A PROTAGONIST. The people in Hawke's life literally would never have become friends without Hawke. Some of them still hate each other by the end but endure for Hawke. Like they're all literally only in the group for/because of Hawke. And Hawke quite literally changes who they are as people and has a massive effect on their lives. The choices you make as Hawke for your friends and the city MATTER. The Veilguard choices just... Don't. The only choice that truly matters is the Emmrich one. Everything else is just a skin preference. It has no actual effect on the game or how the characters act. It's the illusion of choice and you KNOW it won't matter in the next DA, if there ever is one.

Rook as a character is just... Desperately bad, and I'm very sad about it. I mean the Inquisitor was such a bland pancake of a person as well with no real past or personality, but I ended up caring about them because of their relationship with the companions, who provided the seasoning and toppings to their bland pancake stack. I felt like they actually cared about the MC and they all had interesting, deep relationships with Inky. I just feel like... the Veilguard crew would literally not notice if Rook just said "fuck this shit" and dipped halfway through the game. I mean no one even noticed I didn't know Varric was dead? Be real 💀

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 13

Qrow: *cocking one eyebrow after watching the video of Jaune and Glynda's spar* What the hell was that, kid? Didn't you say you wanted to stay low profile?

Jaune: That was the plan at first, but i'm realizing that if i want everyone to survive, they need to step up their game. And i've got something to distract both Ozpin and Ironwood.

Qrow: *pensive* I see... *Point to Roman* Is this why that weasel sitting next to you, too?

Roman: *smirk* Qrow, nice seeing you again. How's your love life going?

Qrow: *smirk back* I dunno, how was it to be beaten by my niece?

Jaune: You know each other?

Roman: *leaning back in his chair* We went to Beacon together. *Sigh* His sister was a complete psychopath-

Qrow: *Grinning* You stole her sword during your first spare against her, of course she would beat the shit out of you.

Roman: *shrug* It was funny at the time.

Qrow: *chuckle* True that!

Jaune: ... *Shake his head, refocusing on why he gathered them here* In any case, Roman, you got the information we need against Lionheart?

Roman: *placing the documents on the table* All there. He wasn't the best at erasing his trace. *Sigh* 25 mission reclassified as low danger, given to inexperienced huntsmen teams.

Qrow: *picking up the document* For fuck sake... More than 200 huntsmen were killed, how did we not see that?

Roman: Mistral is the kingdom of crime. Falsifying documents was as easy as it gets for him.

Jaune: *looking at his scroll* Welp, i gotta go.

Qrow: *frown* Why's that?

Jaune: *sigh* Miss Glynda, psychiatrist extraordinaire, is asking for immediate attendance.

Qrow: *wince* That little bout with your friend is really biting your ass, huh?

Jaune: *groan* You have no idea. *Leave*

_ _ _

At the end of the appointment

Jaune: *perplexed* Something is weird happening with Penny?

Glynda: *picking up some papers* Miss Polendina has recently been suffering from multiple nightmares. *looking at the documents* Weirdly enough, she keeps saying something about there being "Nothing" and- *looking back at Jaune who is glowing faintly* Jaune?

Jaune: *mumbling* Nothing... Nothing happened...

Glynda: *worried* Jaune, what's wrong?

Jaune: *grabbing his head* What did i do wrong!? Why was i left behind?! Because i didn't follow a script?!? *The glow starts to intensify* I just wanted to get back! I- *feel Glynda sit next to him* ... *Hug her, crying*

_ _ _

Ozpin: *looking up with a smile, as Glynda entered his Office* Ah, Glynda, did- *sees her eyes, red from crying* ... *Sigh* Was it-

Glynda: *shaking her head* Worse. *Sitting on a chair* It was so much worse than anything we might have expected...

Ozpin: *worried* What-

Glynda: *trembling* Nothing happened...

Ozpin: *perplexed* What do you mean?

Glynda: ... Their was no knight to save the day, no cat to show you the way and no trees that could help you change for the better... A story that was never written... A destiny that can never be... *Shake her head* No wonder we never found that book, it never existed in the first place...

[zepskies]

Omgg girl I'M so excited to see what you thought of Part 3! It's a bit slower than Part 2, but we've got some big emotional hurdles in this one... (loll mommy needs some you time. 💜💜)

I love this description btw Really painted a picture in my head 😍👏

Aww thank you so much! I went to Seattle a few years ago in the fall, and it was absolutely beautiful with the trees changing their colors and basically painting the ground with different colors. 💜

Ouch. That line probably haunted her afterward 😂🙈 (but I loved their banter! You can totally see they have a close and loving relationship 💕) And her dad's optimism and "fate" was so adorable ☺️

Oh definitely, poor thing. She's so very done with bears too. 😅 Aww I was hoping people would see that, even in this small glimpse of her and her dad's relationship. I always find it so adorable when dads are the bigger "sap" in the relationship. 😂

Ah, our boy entered work mode 🤓

Oh you BET loll!!

Oh God 🙈 No, I can't watch him leave alone. At least get Sam!!! Oh God, no, no, no, no... 🫣 I also realized in that moment why my readers are usually "from the same foxhole" because this is exactly what I can't do. Freaks me the fuck out and gives me so much anxiety. Like, I have to be there 😂 I don't know how you do it. Bravo, friend 😅👏

The tensiooooon loll.

Ooh that makes sense loll. For me I thrive in that angst for some reason. Like, making it through all the uncertainty and fear appeals to my hopeless romantic heart to have the battered hero eventually come home to the one he loves. 🥹💗

But yeah, she really shouldn't be going out there on a suss ankle in the middle of winter. 🫠🫠 (Also I'm saving that worried Ross gif LLOL)

Ooooh, btw, super interesting what you said about the bear meat! I figured something like this. They did wear bear fur, right? And I know people back then never wasted anything, so makes sense they'd eat the meat, too 😄

Ooh yeah I learned about that from watching modern survivalists talk about their experiences on Joe Rogan's podcast lmao. They literally eat the whole caribou, moose, etc. Cartilage and bone and all. 🤢 So it still goes on today, believe it or not! But oh yeah, when America was still being settled, for example, certain Native Americans tribes would trade with European settlers and American traders for furs.

I cackled 😂 Love her feistiness!

bahaha I'm glad you liked that little internal monologue. 😘

Aww 😭😭 Poor thing... 😢 (Loved how she explained not taking his room. While invasive, I think if Dean came back to this in his room, he would've melted 🫠🫶)

Honestly you're probably right loll. At first he'd be like "wtf?" But then he'd probably melt and smile ruefully/soft. 💕

I knew it was a long shot, especially when her father wasn't with Dean, but still breaks my heart for her 💔😢

Yeah I feel like we all knew it was headed here, but it was still heartbreaking for me to even write too. 😭💙

The anxiety is long forgotten. All is forgiven... *sighs dreamily* 😍😍

Ahaha that's what I hoped you'd say. 😏💓

Oh no, you come back here, young man!!! It wouldn't be Dean, though, without the "you can't date me, I'm dangerous and not good enough" freak out 😂

LOLL I imagine you grabbing him by his ear. 😂 But right? I feel like in any kind of canon setting, you have to deal with Dean's (lack of) self-worth, as well with his fear of being a danger to the ones he loves. 💙💙

Legit crying right now 😭😭😭 This is exactly why we always want what's best for him in fanfics. He deserves it so much 🥺

Honestly this is why I keep writing that "deal with your self-worth" stuff when it comes to Dean, because I really wished he could've found his happiness like Sam got in the end of S15. 😭

Love that little detail. Makes such a huge difference ❤️

Aw thank you!! That's one of those details I hope people notice when they read this chapter. 🥹

Oooooh, I so can't wait to read the finale now! This is absolutely amazing, Alex! It's got the right amount of angst and heartbreak, only to haul me back into this sweet cabin romanticism 😍🤍🤍🤍

I so hope you enjoy the final part, my friend!! 🥹🥹 This little series was so fun, especially to explore the omegaverse trope/world with some Alpha Dean, giving those post-S15 angsty feels. In a way, it's kind of a S15 fix-it fic. And idk if you remember, but our convo way back about spicy goodness in a cabin in front of the fireplace is more or less what inspired the next chapter (and the whole fic, really). 😂💜

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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[l0relaii]

cockwarming with josh please please pretty please with a cherry on top 🙏🏻🙏🏻 or just misc. thoughts about him that you haven’t written about yet

oh well, since you asked so nicely i guess i have to write this 🤭

this is gonna be another long one, enjoy slutsss sjajw 🌝

you came home after a long day and found josh watching a psychology documentary for a college project

jeez he's so hot when he's all concentrated, his brows a bit furrowed and pretty green eyes so focused

you wish they'd stop for a second and focus on you instead

you decide to not disturb him, even though the ache between your legs only intensified when you leaned down where he was seated on the couch and landed a soft kiss to his cheek

he was startled a bit since he did not even notice when you entered his apartment, he didn't even hear you knocking over the old man that was speaking on tv, good thing he left the door unlocked

"oh hi babe, sorry if i ignored you, i was just so caught up i guess i didn't notice you"

"no problem josh, whatchu watching?"

"just some documentary for a project"

"that sounds.. fun"

"trust me, it's not"

he leans back on the couch cushions letting out a long sigh closing his eyes. after a moment he opens them and you can see a grin on his face when he notices you on your knees between his legs

"why don't you let me.. help you relax for a bit? i imagine it's veeery hard working when you have other.. problems"

your hand sneaks up his thigh and slides across his crotch the moment you say the last word

problems

huh, maybe he does need to relax a bit and let you take care of him.

no, knowing himself he'd forget all about the documentary and the project and he wouldn't get anything done if he surrenders to your offer

"as much as i appreciate your offer babe- i'll have to decline, at least until i'm done with this bullshit"

the little sly smirk on your face is replaced by a confused frown. what's wrong with him? he never refused you. maybe this project really is that important after all

"oh, okay then.."

you say as you lift yourself up and go around the couch heading for the bathroom

"i'm gonna take a bath"

"maybe if i'm done after that we can continue what we started"

"oh i like the sound of that.. in that case i'll take my time in the bathroom to let you finish"

it's been one hour. your skin got all wrinkly from how long you had sat in the water filled bathtub.

what were you expecting? for him to join you?

is that why you left the bathroom door wide open? or was it to listen and check if that goddamn documentary was finally over?

well it wasn't.

you could still hear that old man's voice from the living room, echoing through the hallway and into the bathroom

jesus, you wondered how could he listen so intently to him? you couldn't even process one thing that he said since you arrived home

maybe you just didn't care about anything he had to say, or you refused to listen to him out of spite for 'stealing' away your boyfriend, a childish way to behave but what could you do?

you came home from a long exhausting day and all you wanted was for josh to fuck you silly

you finally step out of the bathtub and wrap a towel around yourself before exiting the bathroom and heading back to the living room

if josh wasn't going to take a break on his own accord, you were going to make him

you move so fast, it's like you're possessed by something and can't control yourself. you step in front of the tv and drop your towel without even thinking

but then you snap out of your frenzy and realize what you've just done, your face heating up from the embarrassment

you can't even bring yourself to look at josh, but you don't have to do that to notice the way he's shifting on the couch

"come here"

"josh-"

"i said come here"

you obey him stepping towards the couch and only then you notice his pants and underwear are off. ohhh, so that's why he was shifting so much

"what has gotten into you, huh? can't even wait 'till i'm done baby?"

"i'm sorry i-"

"i don't think you are, i think you wanted this since the beginning sweetheart"

"josh, please-"

you don't get to finish because he's grabbing your hand and pulling you in his lap. your breath hitches when your back hits his chest. your skin is still a bit damp from your bath but he doesn't seem to care

"now, you're gonna sit still on my cock until it's all over and listen to every single damn thing, are we clear?"

"y-yes"

he lifts you a bit and drags his length through your already slick folds before nudging his tip at your entrance and pushing you all the way down

your breath hitches at the slight sting but you don't get to protest because he shoves a notebook and a pen in you hands

"maybe you could even help me a little with my notes, huh? you think you can do that?"

absolutely not. you spent the last hour despising the sound of anything from that documentary, and now you're expected to write down notes? oh hell n-

"yes josh"

"good girl.."

holy shit, what are you gonna do? how are you supposed to write anything with his cock pulsing deep inside you?

oh but that's not all.. the teasing bastard decided to start rubbing circles around your clit while nipping at your shoulder blade

"what's wrong babe..? is it hard? trying to do something and being constantly distracted?"

"mfuck, josh-"

his hand slaps down on your sensitive nub, not hard enough to cause actual pain, but hard enough to send a stinging feeling straight to your core

"ohh, d'you like that baby? you're squeezing me so damn hard, fuck-"

you can feel him throbbing inside you, is he close? jeez, and he hasn't even moved, and you're not sure he will with the iron grip his other hand has on your hip holding you down

"oh c'mon josh, this is ridiculous"

you say turning your head and trying to wiggle your hips a little. maybe you'll convince him to finally give you what you wanted all evening?

you feel another slap on your pussy, this time a little harsher than before

"eyes forward babe, you should be watching the documentary, not me. ohhh look, you haven't taken any notes?"

another slap.

"what a shame.. i guess we're gonna have to watch the whole thing again? maybe then you'll be a good girl and do as you're told.. how long was it? 2 or 3 hours if i remember correctly..? "

"jesus fucking christ josh, i'm sorry, look i'm writing please please don't start it over please"

you start scribbling down on the paper in a desperate attempt to make him change his mind

maybe you are gonna have to listen to this shit after all

and you notice that the old man's voice you heard from the bathroom is not that unpleasant at all, on the contrary, he captivates you

maybe that's why josh was so drawn to this thing in the first place

after you're done and you show him what you've written down josh praises you and actually starts moving his hips pulling you tightly into his chest

"that's my smart girl.. look at you darling.. maybe we should watch some more documentaries together from now on, huh?"

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

RUN FOR THE HILLS — max verstappen (angst, smut, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x max verstappen summary: you knew deep down that it was never gonna be you and him. warnings: angst, smut, nsfw, mdni, fingering a/n: lowkey highkey obsessed w tate mcrae😵😵i need to stop writing just angst and smut

the suite smelled like him; a faint mix of the expensive perfume he used and the redbulls he always drank.

a metallic tang of adrenaline clung to the air itself.

you hated how much it felt like home—this room that wasn’t yours, this man who wasn't yours.

but it always was like this. hotels, late nights, his hands through your hair. your clothes scattered across the floor.

you were perched on the edge of the bed, legs bare beneath a shirt he had forgotten he’d lent you.

his silhouette loomed in the doorway to the balcony, glass filled with some alcohol—glowing faintly between his fingers. the city lights painted his face in shades of gold and blue, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the set of his mouth.

he hadn’t said a word in minutes.

but it was always like this after, once the thrill burned off, leaving only silence.

silence that was a reminder of the long talks that never went deep enough, never continued outside of the room. his red eyes, that were evidence of too much feeling buried beneath too little honesty. and of you, missing the moments when he was still close enough to touch.

“you’re quiet,” you murmured, voice soft. you didn’t mean for it to sound as accusatory as it did, but the tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.

max sucked in a sharp breath. “what do you want me to say?” his voice was hoarse, as if he’d swallowed gravel and wasn’t interested in smoothing it out.

you bit back the immediate response, instead choosing to slide off the bed and approach him. the cool floor stung your feet as you crossed the small distance to stand beside him.

“what this is?” you asked, your words barely audible over the muffled sounds of the city below.

max turned to you, eyes dark and unreadable.

he had a way of looking at you in a way that made you jittery, like he could see every thought you’d ever had about him.

“it’s whatever you want it to be,” he said after a pause, and you hated the way his words felt like both a gift and a dismissal.

your laugh came sharp and humourless.

“don’t you fucking do that, max.” you stepped closer, daring him to flinch, to break. “you’re the one who texts me at two in the morning. you're the one who shows up even when i say i need space. you're the one who kisses me and then acts like it doesn’t mean anything.”

“stop.” his voice came like a whip, cutting through the air. he harshly placed his glass on the table before looking at you again. “you think i don’t know what this is doing to you? to us?”

us.

the word hung there, fragile and fleeting, choking the air and suffocating both of you.

you looked into his eyes, shaking your head.

fuck.

you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him toward you, crashing your mouth against his.

the kiss was desperate, tongue and teeth and anger spilling out all at once.

his hands found your waist, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough.

“this isn’t gonna work,” you gasped against his mouth, even as your hands slid beneath his shirt to trace the muscles of his back. “it’s never gonna be real.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath hot against your lips. “walk away, then.”

the answer knocked the air from your lungs, but deep down you knew he was right.

you should have left months ago, left the first time you realised what he meant to you and how little you meant to him in return. but here you were, melting from his touch, caught in the gravity of him.

drawn to the danger that was covered by the thrill.

“i'm obsessed with you,” you whispered, the confession raw, bleeding between you both.

his lips found yours again, softer this time, like an apology he didn’t know how to give. he backed you into the room, the edge of the bed catching the backs of your knees until you were falling, pulling him down with you.

his weight settled over you, grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and suffocating.

clothes disappeared in a haze of heat and urgency.

his hands roamed around your body as if he was memorising you, as if this was the last time he’d ever touch you.

perhaps, it was.

his lips traced a fire along your collarbone, down your chest, lower still. all you could do was feel—the slide of his skin against yours, the way he filled the empty spaces inside you that you didn’t even know existed until him.

you gasped as his fingers slipped inside you, his touch familiar, addictive.

the way he touched you, it went straight to your heart, igniting a fire within you and cutting your heart.

your nails dug into his shoulders, the skin slick beneath your fingers. he was everywhere, and it wasn't enough.

"fuck," he hissed as you pressed your thighs around his fingers, chasing the sensation of his touch, the feel of him filling you.

"please," the word escaped as a moan as his lips traced the line of your collarbone. "max."

his name tumbled from your lips, sounding broken and desperate and aching.

"fuck me like it means something." you weren't sure if the words you had said were a plea or an accusation.

or maybe both.

he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. for a moment, all you could see was a boy lost in a storm.

but then his lips were on yours, the kiss hard, bruising, possessive, and all your senses were knocked away.

the weight of his body pressed against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours, pinning them to the mattress above your head. he released a ragged breath, his grip tightening on your hands.

he pulled his fingers out of you, trailing them back to himself as he aligned himself and immediately pushed into you.

a groan tore through his throat, a broken, beautiful sound that sent goosebumps down your arms. you arched your back in response, his name falling from your lips as pleasure coursed through your body, making your vision blur.

he began moving, slow and deep, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe—the pressure building, consuming, overwhelming.

everything was him. he was everywhere and also nowhere, and you wondered how he was the only thing you needed but not one thing you wanted.

max, a chant.

your fingers clung to him as he moved within you, as if the two of you would fall apart without the other.

maybe you would. maybe this was a deck of cards waiting to crash down. maybe he was a flame shining brighter than the stars, and you were a moth, ready to burn up and turn to ash.

it was chaos and peace; a hurricane wrapped in the promise of a tomorrow.

it wasn’t enough, and it never would be. it was never going to be you, and you were so fucking tired of it.

yet, here you were, begging him to make it hurt a little more.

he moved faster, the pleasure building within you, and your eyes rolled back into your head, the sight drawing a low, guttural groan from his throat, the sound reverberating through his body.

everything was becoming too much. his touch, his scent, the heat of his skin, the sounds he made, the way his name felt as it slipped past your lips.

your vision blurred, the world fading around you until there was only him.

he kissed you then, his lips claimed yours and you let him—you surrendered yourself, losing yourself to him. his grip around your hands tightened into a bruising grip.

"fuck, baby." his voice was nothing but a breath, a desperate plea, a promise. "you are so good."

he set a faster pace, and every sigh, every moan, every broken word—he drank them up, held them close.

the pressure reached higher and higher, your body aching, pleading for release. and then his name spilled from your lips in a cry, and you were gone, the world shattering around you as pleasure crashed through you like waves in a high tide.

and he was there with you, following after you, the sound of your name dripping down his lips—a symphony, a lullaby, a curse.

he slowed down, resting his head on your forehead before collapsing beside you, breathing ragged and skin slick with sweat.

but when the sweat dried and the silence crept back in, the reality creeped back like a stone in your stomach.

“this is killing me,” you said softly, the words breaking somewhere between your throat and your chest.

your eyes were trained on the white ceiling above you, and so were his.

max didn’t respond right away. when he finally did, his voice was quiet, almost broken. “maybe it’s time to stop.”

you closed your eyes, accepting his answer.

you’d always known that the fire would burn you alive. this thing between you wasn’t love. it was darker, messier—something that was tearing both of you apart piece by piece.

"it's never gonna ever be us, y'know?" he said, and it sounded almost like a confession.

it was the truth that had been staring both of you in the face since the very beginning.

"i know." you truly did, because it was a fact.

whatever this was, it was just fragments of what could have been—if only neither of you had been scared to ask for more.

but there were some things that were better left unsaid.

[genderqueerdykes]

I am a trans man who abandoned my previous account because i needed to leave the community.

The trauma and self hatred runs so deep that despite it being months i still can't think of my masculinity as anything other than wrong. Not just that, but leaving made me happier. Not having community made me happier. Think about that.

At least now I can see i deserve better. But it's hard knowing that my love and support was so summarily rejected by the transfems on this site.

i'm really sorry you've had to go through this, anon. you shouldn't have to do that

the thing is people don't realize that while this online fighting is pointless, it does hurt people. and it can cause genuine trauma because it IS abuse. abuse doesn't have to occur in person to be legitimate. a lot of acts of abuse and violence can be committed remotely with modern technology. basically anywhere people can interact, abuse can happen. this is actually hurting and scarring people in real ways and we need to acknowledge this

Not just that, but leaving made me happier. Not having community made me happier. Think about that.

the fucked up thing is i feel the exact same way. i interact with community on here in order to educate but outside of this, i currently do not interact with the queer community. once im off this blog, i'm not really interacting with queer community, i will talk to my queer friends and engage in my own queerness, but i am not thinking about the community for the vast majority of my day. i'm not interested in trying to casually go to a trans space and be misgendered all the time.

i immersed myself in my local punk community last year and all that happened to me was that i got a lot of hollow compliments, condescended to, talked over, fetishized, treated as a sex object, descriminated against, had people stop respecting me the instant they found out i was a trans man, had people try to tranny chase me for being a trans man with a vagina, got called too whiny and emotional, got accused of hating trans women because i'm a transmasc lesbian, got mocked for not having a penis, watched my roommate treat me with annoyance that wasn't there prior, felt alienated in my own home, and just in general felt ashamed that i wasn't an amab trans woman, because those were the only trans people who hung out there for any substantial amount of time

the transmascs and trans men never hung around for too long. the majority of the trans punks who showed up were transfem. like. almost all of them. it was rare to find another transmasc, and i can work a crowd, i don't feel scared or uncomfortable in crowds, so i will talk to just about anyone who acknowledges my presence. i met so many transfem punks that i've lost count, and about 3 or 4 transmascs. it frustrated me and took a while for me to realize why. that place was deeply transandrophobic. the regulars did not treat transmascs with kindness. i was actually sexually assaulted by one of the transfems there multiple times, and had another that was trying to come on to me because i have to do stretches for my lower back or else it locks up, and she saw this as an invitation for sex. my ex gf started treating me completely differently the second she discovered i didn't have a penis, to the point of actually progressing to yelling at me for being too whiny and emotional. the cis gay men that were there would talk about how breasts and vaginas were gross because they were gay men right next to me.

after leaving that community i feel so much better. i'm basically on my own, i don't mind it, that's how i like to live my life as a schizophrenic person, but outside of the way i interact with the community as someone who participates in education and activism, i don't really interact with queer communities. i'm tired of being harassed, targeted, insulted, misgendered, sexualized, and getting sexually assaulted.

this is the really sad truth right now. transmascs and trans men in particular usually live outside of queer communities. we are so alienated. that's the entire reason people think we don't exist. it's because so many people will not let us exist inside of queer spaces, so we have to live elsewhere. so many trans men end up having to have mostly cishet friends to avoid drama and harassment. it's not that we don't exist- it's that a lot of people just will not let us take up space in queer communities long enough for people to see how many of us there are. there are a lot of us, but we aren't being allowed to exist inside of queer spaces, so people trick themselves into thinking we're not real trans people

you do deserve better. i hope in time the trans community learns to treat trans men better. you don't deserve to have to alienate yourself like that, but that's just how things are right now. take care of yourself. you're important even if people don't want you to feel like you are.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hello hello :3

I'm not sure if you take platonic requests so if you get to mine and you don't, pls lmk <3

Anyway. I would like to request platonic Boothill, Sampo, Mydei (if you can't write him yet then it's okay) and the Astral Express crew (you can leave out characters if it's too much) with a reader who is a former slave like Aventurine but they escaped by force and now respond to certain gestures with violence. Think about it like a wounded animal you're trying to approach. They lash out, bite, scratch, attack, anything.

🌑hello dear welcome!! I do take platonic requests 🫡and you can request as many characters as you want just know the more there are the longer I'll take😅 also I love love this idea 👀👀

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Ooh he gets it

You can't exactly hurt him, given the metal body, but even if you try he won't hold it against you

The circumstances might not be the same but he undoubtedly became a different, not violent, man after what the IPC did to his planet

Plus being a galaxy ranger is a lonely existence by design

He respects your need to distance yourself from people

But I feel there's a nurturing side to Boothill he doesn't get to tap into very often

So there's a part of him that will try to comfort you? Relate to you? He doesn't know what he's doing himself but something in his heart breaks for you and pulls him towards you

One stubborn fella about helping you but quite sturdy, let's say he's the guy letting the dog bite him to get its anger out and know that he can be trusted 🥺

✦ 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨 ✦

Menace I love him

Sampo is a con-man salesman - he wants to know everyone's secrets so that he can exploit them for his benefit

But there's some lines even he won't cross

He's got a soft heart somewhere in there (deep in there) so you can expect that he'll go easy on you when he comes to his scheming

Plus he knows how to calculate risk, so if messing with you is highly likely to get him fucked up, he won't try you... Too much

Another man whose life wasn't exactly easy (which is why he's the way he is) and with a soft spot for people with a similarly difficult past

I think he'd find his own way of showing companionship, implying that you can talk to him about stuff if you want (tho he won't blame you for thinking he's just trying to get to your secrets) and stuff like that. He'll just be very subtle about how honest he's being

Let's say he's the guy slowly leaving treats for the dog and pretending like he doesn't care if it likes him or not (he really does, he's incredibly intrigued)

✦ 𝐌𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐢 ✦

New character so bear with me

I feel like you're very similar in this way

He's got a heart of gold under all that aggression, specially when it comes to his people

He's just bad at expressing it in a gentle way😅

His childhood was... Traumatic to say the least, violence is all he knows

Another sturdy guy, he's literally immortal and seems to enjoy a good fight so hitting him in any way might just start a sparring session💀

If he doesn't know you, he wouldn't engage, he's got better things to worry about

But if he does, you might get to see a gentleness from him no one thought him capable of

He's a patient man but he genuinely wants to see you learn to live with your trauma like him

I don't think he's done healing, mind you, but you might be able to learn something from each other about living with your demons

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

So much father energy LORD

The way he just immediately takes Sunday under his wing? Guiding him gently and patiently? That's a dad right there

He's deeply altruistic so he will try to help you please don't fight it😭

He's canonically one of the strongest characters so don't worry about hurting him. The fact that you even had to live through what you did, hurts him much more

Gentle but insistent, is how I'd describe him

He will not give up on you no matter what and that is a promise

When and if you decide to open up, he's a great listener

But even if you don't, he'll be there always🫡 because he genuinely just wants to see you be happy

✦ 𝐇𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐤𝐨 ✦

A fearless woman if I ever saw one

On the express she mostly keeps to herself, y'know navigating

But she undoubtedly cares deeply about the team so if you're part of it (let's say you are) you're included in that sentiment

She's not exactly... Motherly, per say, but she does care. She's just a bit... Awkward about it?

The type to do things like invite you to have coffee with her (don't drink it), or offer to teach you about navigating and stuff like that, just try to make you feel included

Not the type to outright ask about what happened but will listen if you tell her and will not judge - she doesn't see anything wrong with the way you handled things (Sunday train flashbacks)

Knows you're capable of protecting yourself, but will become somewhat protective of you

Tries to avoid setting you off as much as possible, she can hold her own no problem but she'd feel terrible if she hurt you in some way

✦ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟕𝐭𝐡 ✦

Sunshine incarnate

Might come off as overly friendly upon first meeting so if that sets you off well... she'll learn her lesson... maybe

Doesn't remember her past so if you don't wanna talk about yours it's all good with her

But if you do, she's a surprisingly good listener

Tho if you decide to be rude or aggressive to push her away, she'll definitely take it to heart, at first

She'll mope about it for a bit before her determination takes over

She wants to be your friend damnit 😡

She'll call you out for being rude but stick around regardless

She's got thicker skin than expected and she's hard to shake off (like a puppy...) if she decides she wants to be your friend, that's what she's gonna do

Plus after that first time, being rude to push her away won't work, she'll just talk right over you

In the end, she might just win you over through sheer determination 😭

✦ 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠 ✦

Oh he cares so much bless him

Dan Heng is extremely protective of those he's close to

If you're in the express, you're immediately included in that

Quiet comfort is his thing

Like sitting together quietly because you just need some company while he reads or even offering a game of chess as a distraction

Doesn't blame you for how you react, but if you become physically dangerous to be around he will be the first to restrain you

Just because he gets it doesn't mean he likes seeing the people around him get hurt

I feel like he's got some words of wisdom regarding how to make peace with your past

But beyond that he's good to have around because he doesn't push for answers at all

Nobody knew about his past when he came onto the express so he'd be kind of a hypocrite if he cared

It's inevitable that he becomes attached and when he does he becomes just as protective with you as with any other member of the express, regardless of your past

[the-zenith-calls]

So as of right now (1:43 EST), TikTok is back in the United States. At least for some of us. And if you don't trust that post I can currently access it and I'm American. I doubt anyone will actually take the time to read this, but there's a wild comparison I want to make here so stay with me.

In 1979, the Iranian hostage crisis happened. Fifty-three American diplomats were held hostage until 1981. At the time, Jimmy Carter was president, and no one really liked him. So obviously he and the government were trying to negotiate with Iran to give our people back but Iran wouldn't comply. So, Jimmy Carter ended his only term as president in a very bad light, and Ronald Reagan won the 1980 election. Iran waited until Jimmy Carter was out of office and Reagan was sworn in to agree to release the hostages on January 20, 1981, Inauguration Day. This made Reagan look amazing.

Back to the present, we were told that TikTok would be banned on January 19. Well, today is the day and it's back. They banned it yesterday, actually, at like 10:30pm, and we got this popup. First of all, the words "fortunate" and "President Trump" should never be in the same sentence unless it's his obituary. Second, this makes him look fucking amazing. Obviously, this wasn't as high stakes at fifty-three people literally being held hostage halfway across the world, and as far as I know the hostage crisis wasn't orchestrated by Reagan to get him elected, but I just really wanted to point out the similarities of benefiting the American people on or around your Inauguration Day. Imagine your first act as president of a global superpower is benefiting 170 million people. The real kicker is that he isn't even president yet.

What I really want to point out is that Trump created this crisis when he wanted to ban TikTok back in 2020. It was never about securing our data, it was about cutting us off from the rest of the world. And now they say he fixed it. This is what he's going to do while he's in office. He'll create problems and fix them again and anyone who says anything about it will be disregarded because of his weird cult followers. If this sounds familiar, something similar happened in 1930s Germany.

Semi-related, in his fare well speech, President Biden warned us of an incoming oligarchy. I just wanted to put that out there.

Finally, if I see a single one of you celebrating that the ban went through, even though it was for less than a day, I will commit unspeakable acts. It wasn't only about losing entertainment, it was about our freedom of speech. You don't have to like the app but I'm willing to bet you hate it less than losing our First Amendment rights.

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 54

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You sit down in front of him, Jer-Joel looks confused at first but then seems to accept it as he sits down as well, you don't give him the chance to say a word though, you are going to have your turn before he does.

"Ok ok, I'll start with my first question-"

"Wait, who said you could start first?!?"

"I did! And since I outrank you-"

"Fine! Fucking...whatever"

Now! For the first question... You don't actually have anything prepared. Should have thought about that huh.

"Ok... let's see...hmmmm"

"You didn't even have anything ready????"

"Shhh! I'm thinking..." Seriously, the nerve of some people... He narrows his eyes at you but shut ups... For about three or four seconds.

"You are so weird Xelqua."

"Huh uh, tell me something I don't know... Ok, got it!"

He puts his head in his hands and groans... already exasperated? You have just gotten started.

"Just ... ask the question."

"Ok, ok, why become a hero? Where did Altostratus come from?"

His frown disappears as It's replaced by a smug smirk. It's actually a one-eighty degree change, mood swings much?

"I don't see why you are so confused really. Why would a god as handsome and strong and tall as myself not become a hero if given the chance?"

... You definitely liked him more when he was annoyed, much more entertaining.

"So It's an arrogance thing?"

And there is the annoyance, immediately back not even a minute later, you are pretty proud of yourself for that.

"It's not, I'm also exceptionally humble."

"Huh uh."

"Oh you don't get to speak mr. 'I outrank you'. "

...

You don't exactly have a valid comeback for that, he got you good. Huh... Right, better cover the blunder and change the subject least he notice his victory and mock you in turn!

"That wasn't a really good answer to my question Joel"

"Too bad, my turn, what the fuck did you do to time?"

Oh come on, does literally every god know about that?

"Decided to reverse it a bit, you know how it is."

He crosses his arms. "I don't."

"Well, one useless answer for one useless answer....Ok, ok, my time to ask the question. Why did you wait a week to speak to me?"

Joel looks away for a second and then back towards you... Uncertainty? That's... different from the others expressions you hace seen on his face today, It's extremely uncanny to look at.

"I was busy planning how to approach you, I remembered you being much... different in the past"

"Different?"

"Last time I saw you was millions of years ago, when you killed most species on earth with a meteor... I remembered you being much more threatening."

Oh? He was scared? How- wait, what does that mean? You are as threatening as you have always been! You are as strong as ever! More then ever even! It's like he's saying you have mellowed out and that's... You don't even know if he meant as a compliment or not but you got defensive.

"Hmm...my turn again"

Uh? Oh right, the questions, you got a bit distracted there.

"Yeah yeah, I'm listening, just god distracted a bit there! Oops."

"Where you the one who did the whole snail curse? On Las Nevadas."

"What? Me? ...yeah, one of my better cursed, how did you figure it out?"

"It was an hunch, plus a plague of toxic snails feels like something you would do."

Well, *this* one is definitely an insult from the way he says it but you are going to take it as a compliment instead.

"... My turn! What else have you been doing outside of being a mid hero?" You snort as the clouds go pitch black and thunder booms.

"A MID-" He exales loudly. "And for your your information I've also gotten married."

.

.

.

...Wait what? He what? That's new, you didn't know he had been seeing someone.

"Are you serious? Congrats I guess. Who's the lucky god slash goddess?"

"..." Wait, that face...

"It IS a god, right?"

"That counts as another question so you'll have to answer two of mine."

Ugh, why is he like this?.... Ok maybe you deserve it for making this so hard but still...not appreciated.

"Fine, who did you marry?"

"A mortal, she's called Lizzie...you might know her as Ocean Queen."

Ok, what is going on? He married a mortal? Why???

"But she's...mortal. You know she's going to do that one thing mortal do... you know...get old... die."

"I would prefer you didn't speak of my wife dying like that-"

"I'm just...why would you want to get attached to a mortal? That's just dumb."

"Glass is the house of they hypocrite Xelqua."

... What does that even- is that a mortal saying? Wait, you aren't an hypocrite...not right now at least.

"I'm no hypocrite Joel, I would never get attached to a mortal in such a way so..."

"Didn't you take a literal bullet for one? Revert one of the laws of the universe for him?"

"You-"

"And I'm sure that he's not the only mortal you got attached too, I saw Mother Spore at Las Nevadas last week, you were pretty protective of that villain too, Boogeyman was it?"

... It's...well, you did...but it's not the same...right? Oh no...you need to think. You get up.

"Well, that was fun! Time to go!"

"My questions-"

"Let's finish this another time! Good? Good! Bye!"