#and as you can see i listen to a lot of fob

[andoutofharm]

so much (for) stardust is (in part) about living in a world that fundamentally doesn’t know you. the record by boygenius is (in part) about living with friends that fundamentally do know you (just a little too well)

[fobnsfwdoodlesbackup]

pride asks woo !!

12, 15, 25

and for 35:

how do you deal with frustrating people like homophobes and transphobes or people just being generally shitty towards the lgbtq+ community?

Answers under the cut!

12) Name some queer artists/bands or songs you like most:

Dog Park Dissidents!!!! June Henry!!! Against Me!! Fall Out Boy!!! I definitely recommend finding as much queer music as you can, it's incredibly impactful to engage with art that shares your experience.

15) How has your identity changed overtime?

Overtime the main change is just that I've gotten more comfortable gobbling up any labels I want haha. When I was a teenager I identified as Bi, and then later as Pan. I came out as trans when I was 14 and that hasn't changed, but to me it coexists with identifying as lesbian/sapphic/dyke. Oh reclaiming of dyke/faggot is also a more recent change. Relating to the point below!

25) What queer discourse frustrates you the most?

The thing is. Queer history has to be sought out, and so many young queer people (or older, sure!) don't really have context around queer community struggling together and being intertwined. Discourse that feels very on-paper to me such as transmascs and lesbians not sharing community, bi vs pan, or discourse that weaves in other kinds of oppression like cis gay men being transphobic/misogynistic/racist etc. is frustrating. Our struggles are all woven together, and so is our liberation. And so is everyones!! Seeing in fighting online about how to appeal to cishet people or who's allowed to use what terms or be in what spaces feels like we're going backwards sometimes. We have important things that can be learned from one another, we have overlapping experiences and battles, we have been called overlapping slurs, and we must help one another to get anywhere in this god damn world. Talk to queer people that are older than you, younger than you, live in different parts of the world than you. Read anything you can online or at the library about queer history. We're all in this thing together and you can disagree with someone and still be in community with them.

35) How do you deal with frustrating people like homophobes and transphobes or people just being generally shitty towards the lgbtq+ community?

If it's online block their ass. Some Marco lore is that a guy in highschool stalked me for about 7 years and posted details about me on 4chan including pictures of me and where I went to school and worked. Just because I'm trans. Block them. I do think there is some value in arguing online, to practice getting uncomfortable and to signal to others that there's someone on their side, but I wouldn't recommend it generally.

A lot of my answers here are going to intertwine, but the best thing I can recommend is a robust support system. Friends, family, coworkers, pets, therapists, etc. Having people who love you helps with emotional battles, and with physical safety.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I’m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[dont-tell-anyone-im-here]

Wafer Cookies

Summary: You just had the worst week of your life and all you wanted was some wafer cookies. Instead, some jerk in a lab coat got the last box. Time for some negotiation.

~*Tags: Cross-Posted AO3; Rick Sanchez x fem!Reader; Rick Sanchez Smut; Cunnilingus; Blowjob; Vaginal Fingering; Public Sex; One Night Stand; No Feelings; Don't Read Into It; Elevator Sex; Use of Pet Names (Princess); Vaginal Penetration*~

Your week has been anything but easy. An unrelenting work load at the job you despise, friends flaking out last minute, and you’ve managed to stub your toe not once but twice today. To say you were on edge and just needed to lay on your couch, pounding snacks in your face with some mind-numbing TV was an understatement. When your work week finally ended, your first stop before Relaxation Station was the grocery store for your favorite snack of all time, wafer cookies. You couldn’t leave your workplace fast enough, nearly crashing into the parking lot of the local store. Once inside, you made a beeline for the cookie and snack aisle. As you rounded the corner of where your treasure lie, you spotted your prize, calling your name. Upon nearing, you noticed you were about to grab the last box, ‘Finally some good luck,’ you thought as you reached out, your body already relaxing at just the thought of holding the box. As swift as the feeling came over you, a very tall, lanky man with a bald spot cut you off, taking the lone box of cookies.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, your arm falling to your side and forming a fist. The man didn’t even look up, reading the calories per serving as he spoke.

"Look lady, I grabbed the box first so it's mine, oka-" He finally glanced to you and stopped for a mere second then continued, however you noticed the pause.

"I-I-I got the box first, so they're mine." He tucked the box under his arm. Your jaw clenched.

"Like hell, I was here before you and you took them when I was grabbing for them!" You said, leaning your weight to one hip and crossing your arms, glaring. The man's eyes followed your movement as you spoke, clearly not listening. You weren’t sure if the heat you felt was because you were upset or if it was because it turned you on being objectified. You responded with a grunt and yanked the cookies out from under his arm, holding them close to your chest.

"I've had a long week and I don't need your perverted eyes following me to be the cherry on top of it. I'm taking these cookies and there's nothing you can do about it."

The man stood there, dumbfounded, as you stomped off with the wafer cookies under your arm. You weren’t sure if he was attractive or not, maybe it was just his raspy voice, but god what a creep, and a rude one at that. You were in the self-checkout line when he showed up again. You were paying for the wafer cookies when he was standing there beside you. Christ, you didn’t realize how tall he was in your upset state earlier, but now that he was beside you, he towered over you. If he wasn’t so skinny you’d think he was a mountain, instead, this rude, creepy stranger was more of a telephone pole. If you had to put a name to it. You rolled your eyes and let out a disgusted sigh as you scanned the box, getting out your wallet to put your card into the credit card reader.

"What do you want, Baldie?" You asked, rather irritated. You could see his unibrow lower into a scowl out of the corner of your eye. He shoved his hands in the lab coat he was wearing, frowning.

"Those wafer cookies, obv-obviously." He answered, just as irritated, watching you as you finished buying your single item and following you as you took your bounty, heading out to the parking lot.

“Are you seriously following me?” You ask loudly, barely turning your head to address the stranger as he followed you.

“I want those cookies. Can’t enjoy my evening without them.”

"I'm not going to give them to you." You take your keys out of your pocket, locking your car with the key fob to locate your vehicle in the lot.

"Look-look lady, I-I-I'm not afraid to fight UR-ya for them."

You stopped in your tracks. At first, you were astonished that he could burp mid-sentence and still have the flow of one, then you registered that he said he'd fight you. You turned to face him, covering your mouth as you snorted.

"Fight me? For wafer cookies?" You said from behind your hand, starting to giggle, then growing into full-blown laughter. You keeled over, hugging your stomach as it began to cramp. You started to light up, standing up straight and wiping your eyes as the waves died down, taking deep breaths.

"Oh- ohohohoho-" you giggled, "Christ, that was a day brightener."

When your vision cleared, you could see that the man was not as amused as you were. In fact, he looked more annoyed, almost even angry. His frustration was met with your smile and an extended hand, your mood having been drastically lifted, introducing yourself.

"You're pretty funny for a grouchy unibrow in a lab coat." You added after telling him your name. The man stared at your hand with a grimace before rolling his eyes and finally shaking it. Now that you were close and facing each other, you noticed that he was drooling, or maybe it was dribble from whatever he was drinking out of the flask he pulled out from an inside pocket of his lab coat.

"Rick Sanchez,” He stated as he uncapped the flask, took a swig, and put it back in his coat before continuing, “And this is- uuUR-WHERE'S MORTY?!"

Rick looked around frantically, his hands on his head as he searched the lot for “Morty”, calling out his name between burps.

"Uh, Morty-?” You started, but a shrill voice yelling across the parking lot interrupted you.

"RICK Y-Y-YOU ASSHOLE!" You both looked to see a teenage boy with short, curly, brown hair standing at the front entrance of the grocery store.

"Jesus Christ, Morty, you- you gotta stay with me- stay- k-keep up with grandpa, Morty!" Rick yelled back to the boy who was now making his way over to the two of you. Rick turned back to see you with a raised eyebrow. You subconsciously beat yourself when your first thought was disappointment that the man was possibly married with kids and grandkids.

"You have grandkids?" You questioned as Morty came up to stand next to his grandfather.

"Yeah. Complete shitheads if you ask me."

"Ah jeez, Rick. That-that's notta very nice thing t-to say." Morty stammered, rubbing his own arm to comfort himself. Rick rolled his eyes.

"Morty, I-I have science to prove how shitty you and your sister are. I have scientific proof, Morty!” You grimaced now, hearing how he was treating his own grandson. For a fleeting moment you had pondered if maybe a deal could be made for the cookies. A one night stand, perhaps? You weren’t sure if you genuinely wanted that or if it was just because after the work week you had, a good fuck would be the perfect stress reliever. If you got a few rounds out, then you’d be good without the snacks. But, you pushed that idea away. Besides, he could be married, no sex for cookies in that scenario. You shook your head to clear your thoughts away.

"So, you're married?" Wow, you actually did clear all thought. Rick looked over from the small boy he was ranting at. You could almost see the ghost of a smirk, but his face remained annoyed.

"No, why're you uRR-‘skin', shorty?" Not married. Maybe you could talk up a deal then.

"“Shorty”? You're freakishly tall, Jolly Green!" You retorted, not hiding your own smile from your name calling. Morty stifled a laugh. Rick sent a glare his way then looked back to you.

"Look, I-I-I just want the wafer cookies, so hand them over!" He held out his hand expectantly. Even if you were thinking of a deal in your head, you weren’t just going to hand the prize over.

"Fuck no!" You say, continuing your venture to your car.

"Rick, it's just wafer cookies-" Morty tried, only for his grandfather to angrily shove his hands to his side in fists.

"No, Morty! It’s not “just wafer cookies”, Morty! I-I-I’ve been everywhere and-and no goddamn store has any goddamn wafer cookies! That’s the last box in the whole county, Morty!”

"Really? Why not just, I-I don’t know, just-just, go to a different dimension that has wafer cookies?"

"You don’t get it, Morty. This dimension that-that we live in, it’s the URr-nly dimension with the best wafer cookies, Morty! The cookies here are-are-are the only good kind, Morty! Wafer cookies are integral to-to how we properly, properly watch Ball F-UURRp-lers, BALL FONDLERS, MORTY!"

You were long gone from the scene, sitting at the driver’s seat of your car and setting your box of wafer cookies on the passenger side, turning the keys in the ignition. Rolling the windows down you settled yourself and pulled out your phone to start looking for the music you wanted to play for the drive home. As you scrolled through your playlists, out of the corner of your eye, you can see a hand creep into the car, reaching for the box in the unaccompanied seat. You yelped and threw the car into reverse, hitting the gas. The hand flew out of the window with a gasp of surprise as the vehicle flung backwards. 

"What the fuck, shortstack?!" You heard Rick exclaim. You sidled the car to be right next to him and Morty, the latter looking more worried than his general expression was.

"“What the fuck shortstack”? What the fuck, Doc Brown?! You were trying to steal a box of fucking wafer cookies from my car!" You glare at Rick, who only glares back with crossed arms. You were sure this man was going to stop at nothing to get those damn cookies, perfect for negotiation.

"You wanna come over?" You ask, holding up the box with a quirked brow, your tongue darting across your bottom lip. You felt a little ridiculous being so bold, especially when met with his annoyed gaze. He looked your body up and down as you sat in your car, debating. You were sure this time that your blush was because you were turned on. There was something about being surveyed like some knick-knack he was debating on buying as a souvenir on a vacation. Almost degrading. 

"Love to.”

You weren’t expecting that, yet you grinned and unlocked your car doors, putting the box down.

"Morty," Rick reached into his lab coat and pulled out an odd-looking gun with a bulb embedded at the top. It crackled with bright, green electricity, lighting up with a sound that you could equate to the gun firing and what looked like a portal bloomed out of thin air next to Morty, the same color green that swirled in the bulb.

"Go home. I'll be back- fuckin'- I don't know," Rick looked at you. "How long is this gonna take?"

"How long do you want it to take?" You crossed your arms under your breasts, making them much more apparent. You honestly surprised yourself with what were you saying, the last time you did something like this your apartment was almost robbed. Rick, though you noticed him stare at your chest, rolled his eyes and looked to Morty.

"I'll-I'll be home when I'm home. Now go, now go- Fuck, I don't care."

“And what-what am I supposed to tell mom? You said you-you-you’d be home for dinner tonight.”

“My daughter knows I fu-UUH-ck, Morty. How else did she-she get here?”

The older man climbed into the passenger seat of the car, gleefully taking the wafer cookies from the cushion and holding them in his lap as he adjusted the chair to accommodate his long legs and torso. You watched Morty look between you and his grandfather, a look of disgust growing on his face before going into the portal with it swirling in on itself, disappearing after he stepped through.

“Did he just go through a portal?” You ask, wide eyed, looking at the empty place where the boy had once stood. Rick crossed his arms, looking bored already.

“Yes, can we go now?”

You nodded and looked both ways before putting the car in drive, maneuvering out of the parking lot.

"You should be nicer to him, he seems like a good kid." You comment as you turned onto the street outside of the lot, beginning your drive home. Rick sighed like an angsty teenager in response. In your peripheral you saw his whole head move with his eye roll.

"Fuck that noise. If-if-if you're just gonna rant about how I need to treat Morty then I'll leave."

"No, I was just making an observation. You should give the kid a break, he’s like, what? 14?" Rick groaned.

"I'm just here for the wafer cookies." You hear the rustling of the box of cookies being opened. You moved one of your hands from the steering wheel to grab his, stopping him.

"Touch those cookies and you get no form of sweets when we get to my bedroom. You hear me?” You let go of his hand, resting it on the console between the seats.

"Fuck you, Princess." Rick grunted, but made no move to continue opening the box.

"That's why you're here, Unibrow." You smirked, holding your hand out. You didn’t even notice you did it until your passenger said in a disgruntled tone,

“What?"

"Sorry, I like to hold hands when I drive with people.” You explained, but you didn’t put your hand down.

"What? No, this is a one time thing. I-I'm not doing dumb rituals or whatever."

"That's too bad, I was thinking of letting you have a wafer cookie or two if you did." You say wistfully, starting to lower your arm to just rest on the gear shift.

"Are y-y-you treating me like-like a dog? Doin’ party tricks?" Rick asked, only to be answered with silence, you glancing at him when you came to a stop sign before looking back to the road. His mouth slid into a smirk.

"That's kinky as shit." He slipped his hand into yours, earning a grin from you. You noticed the length of his fingers, how calloused his palms were. Staying focused on the road, you slowly brought your clasped hands to your lap, and you instantly felt him let go to grasp your thigh. You glanced at him again to see him looking straight at the stretch of street in front of him, his free hand feeding him the cookies he was promised, while the other rubbed your leg. You felt his fingers curl along the inside of your thigh, his pinky straying further in, sending static through your nerves. Your legs involuntarily squeezed together when his fingers brushed the seams of your crotch, he chuckled, and kept looking forward. Your face flushed, letting your thighs relax, his hand sliding further in, now rubbing the fabric of your pants. You let out a slight gasp, shifting in your seat for your legs to spread further, wanting him to touch more of you.

“Barely touching you and-and you’re already, already spread.” Rick openly laughed, taking his hands away suddenly, making you unwillingly whine. He pulled out the flask in his coat and took a swig, wiping away what slipped past his lips on his sleeve, his grin remained. He slipped the flask back in his jacket and his hand returned between your legs, his fingers trying to prod their way into you despite the obstacle.

“Y-y-you think if I keep goin’ you’ll soak through?” Your blush deepened.

“Ar-are you trying to find out?” You asked, though your voice wavered.

“I’ll stop-“ He started to retract, only for you to grab his hand and keep it at your cunt, making him laugh at you again.

“Oh! Take that as a-AH no.” His middle finger pressed deeper than the others, pushing right into your clit. You could feel the texture of your pants through your underwear, already wet, growing more desperate the more he taunted you over your clothes. You almost pulled over and dragged him into the back seat, but you were so close to your apartment, just a couple more blocks.

“Ya know, I-I can tell that you’ve gone through your pant-panties.” He sounded almost nonchalant, as if he didn’t just say one of the most insane things you’ve heard. But it made you squeeze your thighs together again.

“I don’t even, even think you’re going to be able to keep it together long enough to-to get your so called “sweets” in the bedroom.”

“We’re here.” You squeaked out as you approached your apartment complex, shakily pulling into your designated parking spot. Rick let go of you so quickly you almost whimpered, grabbing the wafer cookies and tucking them under his arm as he waited to follow you to the doors of the building, smirking at how you wobbled when first stepping out of the car. As you approached the entrance, you picked out the key to your building from your keychain, unlocking the door, though you were struggling slightly with keeping your hands straight enough to fit the key in the hole.

“Someone’s distracted.” He was right at your ear, bent at the waist, lips almost grazing you. You didn’t even notice he was so close. You were sure he could feel how hot the tips of your ears were.

“Ooh, just you wait, you’ll be distracted here soon.” You had wanted to threatening, but it clearly didn’t come across as such because the man still had that shit-eating grin on his face. Once inside, you called the elevator, ignoring the mail you’ve grown accustomed to grabbing when you had come home from work. You had more important things to take care of, like the growing uncomfortable feeling of your wet panties. Once the lift doors opened, you stepped inside, Rick again following you, standing at your side, and idly looking around the shabby elevator with dirty corners and yellowed lighting.

"Y-Y-You're how old and you have an apartment?”

"You're how old and you're not married, and live with your kid's family?" You poked your floor button with your middle finger as he raised his eyebrow, muttering, “Touché,”under his breath. The doors begin to close when someone’s hand caught the doors, shoving them open quicker than the sensor can make them move, and clambered into the cab, followed by two more who thanked them for keeping the elevator. When they all pressed their floor buttons and began chattering about their work days, you heard Rick groan then shove the box of cookies into your hands. You rolled your eyes, giving an apologetic look to the man beside you as the newcomers loudly discussed their lunches and work drama.

Once the elevator started to move, Rick slipped his hand with yours again, surprising you. After how he acted in the car, you hadn’t expected him to do that, and you couldn’t help the butterflies it sent fluttering in your stomach. But then, his hand slipped to your waist, the butterflies slamming into your body now. His hand trailed down to your hip and grazed past your ass, the butterflies sinking into arousal, the hand circling up your back and down over the span of your ass. You stared lazily at the elevator doors and the backs of the gossipers heads, trying to fight the waves of pleasure you were experiencing by just being touched. His hand found its way to the hem of your shirt, daring to go under, his fingertips skimming along your skin leaving trails of goosebumps. He wormed his hand down into the back of your pants, groping your ass, your blush making it feel like you were sweating bullets. His hand removed itself, now pulling you behind him, having his body block yours, now forced into the corner of the elevator. You weren’t sure what he had planned, but your first thought wasn’t that he would maneuver his hand down the front of your pants this time, going under the waistband of your underwear and start rubbing your cunt.

You were surrounded by people and Rick was fingering you, unnoticed.

You bit your lip to hold back the noises that bubbled in your throat, your hips rocking with his fingers to get more friction, standing in your tiptoes and balancing on the cornered walls to allow him more access. You tried to keep your breathing under control. In the nose, out the nose, in the nose, out the nose, you just had to keep breathing. But the thought of getting caught in such a lewd act with his slender fingers stroking you was such a thrill in itself. His fingers teased at your clit and with each instinctual buck of your hips, you could see his shoulders bounce, holding back giggles. You were starting to struggle with your grip on the cookies that got you here in the first place. You were getting close to cumming, meaning you were going to cum in public, and didn’t know if you were going to be able to keep quiet. As people got off the lift, they didn't even notice that you were behind the tall man in the corner. At least until the final person. Once they had stepped off the elevator and had begun walking away, you let out a small 'fuck', believing you were safe to finally moan aloud. But they turned around, and what they saw was Rick pulling a slick hand out of your pants. As if in slow motion, the doors began to close, you saw their horrified face, and they saw yours, with Rick sticking his tongue through his “V”-shaped sticky fingers. There was a feeling of mortification at being caught, but the adrenaline was enough to make you breathless. You leaned heavily on the wall, your wobbly legs more intense than before. Rick gave a satisfied grin at the sight of your flushed face, your bitten, swollen lips, your unbalanced stance, then he looked to study his wet fingers.

"Damn, y-you’re soaked," Rick spread his fingers to show the bridges of fluid between them to emphasize his point. “Why not just, just stop the-the elevator an-and get you that stress relief you’-UR-e looking forward to?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, you were rather tempted at the thought. He could pin you against the dingy walls, tell you that you’re as filthy as the lift as he holds you up by the thighs with your legs wrapped around his small frame. You were about to agree with his idea, when your eyes went wide, your jaw dropping, speechless, as he took each of his slick fingers into his mouth, one by one, sucking and licking them clean. He caught your stare.

“You expect me to just w-w-wipe that shit off? It’s more valuable than, than most organs on some black ma-ARCK-ets.”

You didn’t know how to express how hot that was. You didn’t really know what he was talking about with pre-cum being valuable on black markets, but you were about to just grab him, and make him finally make you cum. You’ve been teased enough today. The elevator doors opened again, a quick glance and you recognized the floor you lived on. Your mouth felt dry as you took one of his hands and lead the way to your apartment. You fumbled your keys out of your pocket and tried to unlock your door, only to get distracted once again by the man you brought home. His arms wrapped around your body, finding ways under your clothes to touch your bare skin, eliciting soft moans as you still tried to unlock the door.

“Fuck, Rick, can-“ You tried to protest between sighs, “Can you give me a seh-second?”

“What? You can’t handle it, Princess? Yo-you acted like such tough shit at the store.” You felt his teeth tug on your ear lobe and your legs wobbled. It was like he was using this whole excursion to show you that yes, there was something he could do about you taking that last, stupid, fucking box of wafer cookies, and it was to fuck you dumb. Finally, you made it into the apartment, flinging the box of cookies onto a nearby chair and yanking him inside by his lab coat. You reached as high as you could and pulled him down to finally crash your lips together. He tasted of stale alcohol and chemicals you couldn’t describe but you couldn’t get enough of him. You moaned in his mouth when he pulled you closer, bending down lower for you to deepen the kiss. You blindly fumbled backwards to your bedroom, trying to steer for the hallway but bumping into different furniture instead. You grunted, pulling away with a sharp bite in his bottom lip as you did, his deep moan flipping some sort of switch in you. When his lip slapped back to his gums you looked up at him with a half lidded gaze, suddenly very hungry, and you turned and dragged him to your bedroom as quickly as your unbalanced legs could carry you.

Once in the room you pulled Rick back down to you, teeth clattering together with the force of it, spinning the two of you around so you backed him onto the bed, forcing him to lay down under you as you straddle him. He allows you to take control with his hands on your hips as you felt him up, running your hands up and down his body, going under his shirt, leaving trails of goosebumps on his skin as he had done to you. Your hips ground against his, feeling his rock hard cock through his pants, you moaned in his mouth, his bulge fitting perfectly between your now soaked through pants. Based on how it felt, he was going to fit perfectly, if not be overfilling. You pulled away, your tongues partially out of your mouths, breathing heavily. He looked dazed almost, taken aback by your sudden assertiveness, just watching you with droopy eyes as you slowly inched off his lap and knelt on the floor before your bed, reaching for his belt buckle. He propped himself on his elbows, staring at you for a moment as you unhooked his belt and started at the button of his pants before fully sitting up. With one hand he caressed your head while the other reached into his coat again for his flask, finishing it off before returning it to its pocket and shrugging off the jacket. You were too busy already licking him through his briefs to notice him also take his shirt off and toss it aside with his coat, the only thing you’re able to process is how his fingers thread through your hair and his grunts of satisfaction.

“Didn’t think you-you’d do this after all the, all the shit I pulled.” He says pulling your hair slightly so you’d look up at him.

“I’ll stop.” You mimicked him from the earlier car ride, and you think he would’ve laughed if you hadn’t gone back to feeling and licking him through his underwear. Instead he moaned, his grip on your hair growing tighter the more your tongue moved. You were right about his size, but you weren’t known for being someone who half-asses things. You didn’t pick up your head until you finally pushed the band of his briefs down, and then immediately taking him in your mouth as deep as you could. You felt his nails dig into your scalp, his muscles tense under you, hearing a hiss and a guttural moan that you would replay in your mind for the rest of your life.

“God-damn.” He’s able to push past tight lips, his head thrown back. You hadn’t even started yet and he was already melting under you. Slowly, you began to suck him off, taking him deeper with each bob of your head. Rick didn’t even control your pace, his vice loosening, letting you set your own, which was enough for him based off how he groaned. You squeezed his hips before letting go and allowing your hands to travel his body, one down to the thighs, squeezing and rubbing, the other sprawling up his torso, feeling him tense and relax with each stroke, gaining momentum. You opened the back of your throat, wanting all of him, keeping your increasing speed. He sounded pathetic almost, feeding into your ego that a man who was nothing but a shit talker was whimpering because you were deep-throating him. You dared to look up at him through your lashes, his dick fully sheathed in your mouth.

“Fuck, me,” He sighed out, “Keep lookin’ at me… fuck, keep-keep lookin’ at me like that.”

You hummed and he shut his eyes, his grip on your hair tightening again. You slowed, letting your teeth graze his shaft, your hands returning to their original handles at his hips. He grunted and you felt him push against your head, but you refused, staying at your desired slow speed. Your scalp screamed when he forced you off him, Rick panting as you tried to catch your breath. You could tell you were something to behold, mouth gaping open with saliva and pre-cum drooling down your chin, trailing to a growing wet spot on your shirt, your eyes not leaving his, half-lidded, already starting to glaze.

“You fucking bitch,” He tried to glare at you but he was still coming down from whatever cloud he was on, “Y-you can’t go that hard then-then-then- fuck you, c’mere.”

He kissed you harshly, his tongue in your mouth, tasting himself, then pulled you back by your hair, making you hiss, before slamming your mouth back on his cock. You kept your gaze on him as he watched you take the near brutal pace he set. You knew that your throat would be sore after, but this was worth it, the ecstasy of just having his dick in your mouth was worth whatever bruise or soreness you’d have tomorrow. You moaned around him and he took advantage, pushing you to sheath him without warning. You felt your lungs jolt in your chest yet he held you still.

“Breathe, Princess- shit, y-you take- fuck- take me so good. Breathe through it.” It sounded like a whisper in the roaring of your ears. Despite the tears now rolling down your cheeks, you still looked up at him, and he moaned at the sight of you. He pulled you off, and before he could give you a chance to breathe, his mouth was on yours again, tongue replacing his dick down your throat, as if trying to soothe the already sore muscles. His hands moved from your scalp to down your neck and down your body, standing up and pulling you with him. He turned you around, this time pushing you down on the bed. He pushed your shirt up and kissed your stomach, running his tongue up your body to your rib cage and stopping at the underwire of your bra, kissing around it and licking a stripe between your tits, stopping at your rolled up shirt and only pulling away to bite into your neck. Your moan came from deep in your chest.

“I know you thought you’d be in-in charge of this,” He says against your throat between bites and sucking your skin, “But you had your fun, i-i-it’s my turn now.”

He pulled your legs over the edge of the bed, kneeling between them, your ass barely on the mattress. He pulled your pants and panties down in one swift movement, surprising you by how quick he was, and even more so when he wordlessly began eating you out.

You bit your lip, your moans whining past your teeth as he laps at your clit, your hips bucking when he pressed the flat of his tongue against it and two of his long fingers entered you. They scissored in you as Rick kept a steady rhythm, chuckling to himself when your body would move on its own in response to everything he did. You felt useless when all you were able to do was grip the sheets under you. The noises that were made as he slurped your clit were sloppily wet when mixed with your gargled moan as he added a third finger and curled them up deeper into you. Your legs gave out, your bottom half folding to the floor before he managed to catch your legs on his shoulders, his tongue unrelenting, taking turns between swirling, pressing, and sucking your clit. His free hand traveled up your body and grabbed at your tits, pulling the padding down to expose them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers. It was almost too much, but you wanted more. You were getting so close. You had been fed into like a growing fire, every thing that he’s done to you pushing you closer to engulfment, edging you this whole time, and you were finally going to cum. Your legs wrapped around his head, pulling him closer into you, a moan ripping out of you.

“I- Fuck!-” You finally spat out, “I’m guh- I’m gonna-”

He pulled away to interrupt you, earning a high pitched whine as your red, hot clit was left cold, but his hand didn’t stop, still pulling you to the edge.

“You think I can’t tell?”

Your eyes were closed and your head was thrashing about the bed, but you could imagine from your short time knowing him that he rolled his eyes. 

“Shut the fuck up, Princess an-and just make those noises.” 

Unashamedly, you obeyed, and you came, his name on your lips. Your back arched, one of his hands still pinching one of your nipples while the other drew out your moans with each curled finger, his swirling tongue slowing to a kiss. You panted, eyes blearily opening to watch him lick his fingers clean once again before going to the source, and lapping that clean as well. You squirmed, whimpering at how sensitive you were under his tongue, but both of his hands reached up to your tits, each grabbing one and pinning you to the bed as he maliciously pawed them, his fingers choosing your nipples as their next victim. 

“Fuck- mmm-Rick!” You whined, but did nothing to stop him, your once useless hands now caressing his head between your legs. You felt his tongue in you, as if he was starving for every last drop of your cum, gulping it all down. You could feel an orgasm building underneath every fragile nerve he hit to finish his meal, you were sure if you came again so quickly you’d unravel. Finally, he pulled away and sat back on his knees, his hands retracting from your chest to wipe his sweaty, cum drenched face with the back of his hand. You were able to catch your breath and feel your body again, staring at the ceiling for a brief moment as you tried to even think.

“Ya know, I could sell the fuck outta that. We could be rich.” He comments as he gets up and starts to take the rest of his clothes off, kicking off his shoes.

“Sell?… What?” You’re barely able to sit up on your elbows.

“Your cum, duh.” He rolled his eyes as he pulled his pants and briefs down, and stepped out of them, now stalking towards you, sitting beside you on the bed and leering over you.

“You wouldn’t have any use for Glib-Zolians, but I-I-I’d still give you a cut because I ultimately hate capitalism an-and only use it so I can destroy it.”

“I have… no idea, what you’re talkin’ about.” You manage to word together, as you sit up and pull your shirt off despite your soft mattress beckoning you to sleep. He rolled his eyes again.

“Course y-you don’t,” He watches as you unclasp your bra and once tossed aside, his hands are back on you, moving up and down your body with an analytical eye, as if finding the mathematical formula that calculated your body.

“And didn’t I say somethin’ about shutting the fuck up?”

You glared at him as best you could, though your facade fell as soon as he took one of your nipples in his mouth. You sighed and squirmed under him, his hand caressing your cheek, the other massaging the unoccupied breast. As he held your face, his fingers curled to the back of your neck, forcing you to pick up your head and watch him as he stared back, bouncing back and forth between your nipples, as if he didn’t want the other feel left out. Your hands came up to hold his head, watching him lightly bite the sensitive buds and moan with each sharp pain of his teeth.

“Rick,” you moan and bite your lip. He pulls away and kisses you, almost sweetly, before it turns deep and desperate. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“Get on your knees, Princess.” He tells you, pulling away to let you move. You got on all fours, putting your weight on your elbows and arching your back for your ass to wag in the air for him. You gasped as felt a sharp smack across your right cheek, but it only made you squirm. You patiently waited for him to touch you again, getting more antsy by the millisecond. You heard the characteristic fumbling with a condom wrapper and you realized that you had completely forgotten about that, so caught up in how horny you were, you had ignored that one rule with sex. You were going to toss a ‘thank-you’ over your shoulder for him remembering but instead you let out a guttural moan. Rick had entered you to the hilt. He gripped your hips, his calloused fingertips already digging into your skin. He had prepped you thoroughly with his fingers and tongue, however he was still something you had to get used to. Your eyes squeezed closed and you circled your hips, trying to relax around him but only accidentally signaling to him that you were ready to go. You cried out as he moved at a speed you were not expecting so soon, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing over and over with enough force for you to lose your grasp on the English language. The only thing out of your mouth were animalistic grunts and moans that coupled with his panting and utterances of how great of an ass you had.

You were already getting close when Rick was just touching you but now that he was pounding into you, you were hurdling off the edge and plummeting into ecstasy. You couldn’t hold back how loud you were, you knew tomorrow you would receive a passive aggressive note slid under your door by your neighbors, but you didn’t care, you were cumming and he wasn’t slowing down. Garbled words tumbled past your lips, you knew you were trying to say how good it felt, how badly you needed this, how hard he was making you cum, but all that came out was nonsense. Your head fell to the bed, moaning into the mattress, only able to keep your ass up anymore. You felt a hand slither up your spine, counting your vertebrae as it gently grasped at your hair, then pulled your head back, your mouth falling open with a cry of pleasure. He slows for a moment, edging out of you until just his tip was inside, then sharply thrusting into you, each earning a deep groan from you.

“You don’t listen,”  he pants, leaning down to hiss in your ear, “I said- shit- I said t’keep makin’ those- fuck-  noises.”

His hips snapped back to its ruthless pace and your mouth hung open, dissonant moans and almost-words flowing out of you as a knot grew in your stomach. He stayed pressed against your back, hot breath fanning your neck.

“I- hng! Ah- ah- cummm-” Is all you manage, Rick’s breathy laugh a loud response, which only tightened the knot, threatening to untangle.

“Cum for me, Princess.”

It’s like a trigger, your eyes rolled back and your body went numb. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his dick and the moan he let out told you he was getting close. He let go of your hair and your deadweight collapsed to the mattress, both his hands now gripping your hips as he drove into you to find his own release. Your brain was mush, you couldn’t have a comprehensive thought, the only thing you could feel was his dick in you, somehow deeper and harder than before. You were so sensitive, every thrust sending shock waves through you, a perfect mix of bliss and over-stimulation, yet you kept moaning, doing as you were told.

His hips slammed into you, and finally, Rick came. A few weak thrusts follow, kissing your neck, a hand creeping up to grab your chin and move your lips to his. He sighed, staying in you and still pressed against you, matching your gasps for air, eyes closed, feeding off each other’s body heat and post-sex glow. After a moment or two, right when a cozy feeling was starting to overcome you, he was able to pick himself off your back, and regrettably pull out. You felt empty without him inside you, but you were more alarmed about how you felt like you couldn’t move, then deciding you’d just roll over and let your dead weight move your joints. He appeared beside you, laying on his back, hands clasped on his chest, a slight smile on his lips as he stared at the ceiling. The silence was comfortable and a small part of you wondered why, however, it didn’t last long, annoyance replacing the soft feeling when you heard him say,

“Sooo… about those wafer cookies…”

[transforgaytion]

If you're still doing the "I wish" prompts, what about those really big eggs? I think it's emu eggs I'm thinking of. Plural :)

-always- accepting "I wish" prompts! (these are now accessible on my blog by clicking the "wishing curse" folder, and will be tagged with "wishingcursetf" ! Really? Is the first thought through her mind. Why on earth would someone utter those words in that order??? Who on earth desires emu eggs??

But before she has much time to react, she begins to feel the first subtle signs of the curse reacting. At first it's just a very very slight bloating feeling. Nothing is visible from the outside yet whatsoever. And at the mall of all places, on a busy Saturday afternoon...Nowhere to hide... How big are emu eggs again? She wonders to herself. To her shock, before she has time to leave the food court, the person who'd initially wished -kept talking-. "Yeah, I wish I had at least a dozen of 'em. Emu eggs, I mean. I wish I had some ostrich eggs too I guess, but I do like emus better as a whole, so I'd rather breed them than ostriches-" .... She pauses to process what she's just heard. How likely is it that at this mall she's stumbled across a wishful EMU FARMER. Wait a damn minute, did he say over a dozen???

Oh god. And with the size of them...this was about to get bad. The band of her jeans began to feel a bit tight against her stomach. They weren't loose jeans to begin with, but she knew what this meant.

She stood up from her seat, grabbed the trash from the table, and begun to quickly try to make an escape. If she could at least make it out to her car-...

"hey! What're you doing here?"

Are you -kidding-?

"Oh, sorry if I startled you!" her most recent ex continues as he looks at her, gauging how she's been doing since the breakup.

It was a smooth breakup, almost more of a break than an actual ending point for the relationship. But her ex didn't know about her curse. She wasn't cursed until two months ago, and they broke up around 5 months ago now.

"No, that's okay... I'm so sorry, I really have to go-" she started to try to exit the conversation, making it a point to apologize later, but she felt a very slight tug on her sleeve as her ex carefully got her attention as she moved to leave.

"Sorry, I just...it's been a while...you don't have a couple of minutes? I promise I won't take up too much of your time, I just-..."

The look in his eyes was so....so sad. So pleading. And he wasn't a bad guy, it's just...

"Look, I'm so sorry, I -really- have to go..."

The look on his face almost broke her heart. But she didn't have a lot of time to pay attention to her heart as her loose t-shirt was beginning to brush up against the skin of her stomach as it was slowly starting to protrude now.

"Wait!" he called after her as she tried to run. Her center of balance was already being thrown off, so she was already struggling to run like she would have been able to an hour ago.

She pants as she runs for the exit door, feeling more bloated than ever.

Once the automatic doors finally slide open, she's met with a terrible realization.

It's community day.

The whole town is in this mall parking lot, complete with food trucks from out of town, live music, the WORKS.

She slowly made her way through the crowd, resisting the urge to put a hand on her stomach to help her balance as she moved quickly through the people to the other side of the parking lot.

She'd actually parked on the other side of the mall entirely, but she got so desperate to leave that she'd gone for the first available exit.

She felt the fabric of the t-shirt starting to get tight around her slowly inflating stomach.

It felt so heavy. So hard. After last time, with the real babies, surely these eggs wouldn't be harder to birth, surely....

She clicks her car key fob a few times, listening through the noise from the community festival to try to hear her car's horn.

She can see it lighting up across the parking lot now, now it's just about making it over there.

 It's 8 rows over, she counts.

The t-shirt was starting to ride up. If anyone saw her, they'd definitely think she was pregnant. She wasn't pregnant yesterday. Word would get around that something's wrong with her if she wasn't careful.

She passes between cars, avoiding any people she sees, pulling her shirt back down over her still expanding bump.

It wasn't lumpy like she was afraid eggs might make it, so there must've been fluid in there too. It looked almost exactly like a typical human pregnancy, but perhaps shaped slightly differently?

 Either way, her shirt is slowly riding up her stomach higher as she continues to navigate the maze of cars, and her bra is beginning to feel tight.

She can feel her nipples getting so hard and rubbing up against it even with how hot it is outside.

She makes it to the car, -finally-, and turns the key in the ignition before pulling the front seat up as far as it'll go, and letting herself into the back seat.

She locks the door, and tries to breathe a sigh of relief. She feels huge now that she's sitting down, and she knows she's still growing.

Emu eggs. God. Why???? This curse was awful. There's no telling how many times she'd have to endure this.

They said ostrich eggs too...how big were those again?

She pulls the t-shirt off as it's now barely a bra functionally, her stomach too large to contain within it anymore.

She breathes in as her chest increases in size, causing her to rather desperately start moving to take her bra off, as the straps are starting to cut into her shoulders.

It has to start soon, right? The actual contractions have to start soon, she feels like she looks very due.

She finally gives in and lets herself run her hands along her stomach, rubbing it for comfort as it continues to grow.

"A dozen...." she says aloud, trying to keep herself calm.

At least this usually doesn't hurt as bad as real pregnancy would. Eggs should hopefully be even less painful than last time this happened.

Suddenly, as she's finally being able to relax a bit, she hears a loud sound against the car.

She looks up to see her ex, gently knocking at the driver's side window to see if she's in the car. He's really not a bad guy at all, something must be really bothering him for him to be this persistent, but damnit...now is SO not the time, she thinks.

It's not long before he notices her in the back seat. He glances from her face down to her stomach and then back.

She winces. He looks shocked. This isn't good.

"Oh my god!" Even though it's muffled, she can still hear him.

"Let me in, I can help!" he says, after watching her continue to rub her own "due-with-twins" sized belly.

She ignores him at first. She doesn't need help. He's not even supposed to know about this.

"I...I just saw you...how did you hide-...? You know what nevermind, I can still help! Please...?"

What on earth was his deal. And why was he being so-....he was willing to help after looking at her like this??

He tries the car handle, but only once.

It's locked.

her stomach is still growing. It's now taking up her entire lap. It's incredibly obvious how pregnant she is.

Physically, her body never 100% got the memo that the pregnancy was egg based, so she does feel her breasts get heavier and heavier, filling with milk no doubt.

her nipples are finally growing too. Preparing for feeding babies that will never drink from her.

Her ex is looking around now, contemplating if he should call for help. That'd be bad. She really doesn't want to be experimented on or something.

She just wants to lay these eggs in peace.

"Please..." he asks again. On any other guy, this level of persistence would NOT be a good look. But she knows he means well. She knows he's worried about her.

He looks around again, and while he's looking like he's about to go running to beg for medical assistance, her stomach finally, after growing to a size so large she can barely reach around it, finally clenches tight with her first contraction.

When it stops, she looks up and finally meets her ex's eyes. He froze when she clearly contracted, looking like he's feeling her pain with her.

She made a split section decision at that moment and reached up and unlocked the car door. She did her damnedest to scoot over to make room for him to sit beside her.

"Get in and close the door, quickly!" she spat at him in a hushed tone.

He moves quickly, getting in beside her and slamming the door and then re-locking it.

"Okay, what can I do? How can I help? Are you in any pain?"

She is baffled. Why'd she break up with him again? She would be able to recall if her entire mid-section wasn't getting tighter and tighter and oh god-, tighter, tight enough that it starts to hurt, and then it goes even further, it's so tight, so hard, it's squeezing her inside out, it's-....it stops.

"I....you weren't pregnant an hour ago, were you." her ex says flatly. She shakes her head slightly 'no'.

"Is it normal babies?" he continues. She nods 'no' again.

"Okay...uhh...."

"Eggs." She interrupts. "it's eggs."

"Oh!" he exclaims "Well, at least eggs aren't that bi-"

"Emu and ostrich eggs...." She clarifies. He freezes.

"Do-...do you have any idea how many?"

She feels the telltale sensation of her cervix slowly beginning to open around something.

She answers through gritted teeth as her stomach contracts again "uhh...at least a dozen, probably more...."

He looks shocked. He looks around the car. The running car.

"There's barely room back here...how are you going to-....uhh...okay, hold on."

He unlocks the door, and she moans as she tries to protest through the contraction but instead it just devolves into a groan.

He gets out of the back seat, climbs into the front seat, adjusts it for his legs, and re-locks the doors.

"I know you probably can't buckle a seatbelt back there, but I know a place close to here where it'll be really quiet....you'll have room to spread out and be safer there. Can I take you there?"

"oh god.....-" she murmurs as her cervix stretches around her first emu egg, "yes, god, it's happening fast, please...." she doesn't even know what she's begging for.

He puts the car in reverse, and she can tell how carefully he's driving already. Precious cargo and all.

He manages to get out onto the highway, and begins heading out of town. She feels fear for a second, before all her attention is back on her stomach. it's clenched down so hard she can't breathe. It doesn't hurt like it -should- if it was a 'real' non-curse related pregnancy, but it's clenched so -hard-.

He pulls off into a large field, off the main road enough that it's got no eyes on it at all.

"Come on, let me help you" he says as he climbs out of the driver's seat and opens the back door. "Can you walk? It won't have to be far at all, there's just nowhere for you to give birth in that backseat."

She barely nods, and then both her hands hold the sides of her massive stomach as it contracts again, pushing the widest part of the first emu egg into her cervix now.

When it subsides, although moving feels -very- odd, she does manage to step outside. The relief is instant.

She falls into a squat as soon as the car doors close. She can't control it, as soon as there was space, she felt herself squat.

But, oh- pants....

"I, I think I'm pushing, but I-" she babbles. he takes the hint, pulling her pants down gently but very effectively.

"I'm going to pull down your underwear too, okay? Then you can push." --------- part 2 soon if you like my work you can support me at https://ko-fi.com/transforgaytion 

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Part Three

Part One | Part Two

I hope y'all are ready for some backstory in this bitch hfdjsk

Anyway, we learn some more godly parents, but one remains a mystery for now.

Also, if you like my writing, maybe consider commissioning me! I have, like, student loans hitting harder than I'd like, so I've opened commissions on ko-fi. You can read more about prices and such in this post.

Anyway, hope you have fun reading! And, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Getting to Athens, Tennessee, had required a mix of bus rides, a single divine taxi ride, and a pair of knock-off winged shoes that Eddie should probably put out of their misery before they get him killed. Getting back to camp, thankfully, only requires the van Steve and the kids use to get around.

Said van, at first glance, looks like a hunk of junk. It seems to have stepped right out of the 80s, its paint is faded and scratched with dents in more than a few spots, and the wheels look about two tiny potholes from popping. As they get closer, Steve pulls a key ring from his pocket, and Eddie notices that it's a physical key and not one of the wireless fobs.

When they get inside, though, the whole van is transformed. The seats are made of the softest leather Eddie has ever felt, there are seven in the back for all the kids to be comfortable without arguing about space, and the sheer number of cup holders is enough to bring Eddie near tears. "This is fucking metal," Eddie says, practically melting into the passenger seat as the kids buckle up in the back and Steve starts the van.

"I got it after we outgrew my BMW," Steve says, shrugging as he checks on the kids and Eddie before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Steve says it's a surprise gift from our father," El pipes up from the back.

"Yeah," Dustin says, his voice excited as he leans forward and pokes his head between Steve and Eddie, "Cuz he doesn't know he bought it!"

Steve snorts and pushes down the bill of Dustin's cap as he heads towards the highway.

"So, is Zeus your dad, too?" Eddie asks, twisting around to look at El.

"No. Steve and I share a human father," El explains.

Even without looking, Steve can feel Eddie's confusion. "I try not to think about how I came into being," he says. "Just know our father seems to be a bit of a slut for Greek mythological figures."

"Wait," Eddie says, waving his hand, "does that mean Zeus was, like, a woman? Is Zeus your mother?"

"No clue. Like I said, I prefer not to think about it," Steve says again, shooting Eddie a look.

And Eddie drops it despite his growing questions. When a gorgeous boy tells you to stop asking about the impossibility of his birth, you shut up and listen.

A while later, as Steve is about to drive over the Tennessee state line and the kids doze off in the back, Eddie glances at Steve and shifts in his seat. His leg starts to bounce, his fingers drumming against his knee, as he tries to figure out which question to ask first. Eventually, he ends up blurting out, "So how did you manage to not die?"

Steve blinks and snorts, stifling the rest of his laughter so he doesn't wake the kids. He glances at Eddie, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Well, how much of the story do you want to hear?" he asks.

"All of it." Eddie wants to know everything about Steve. How has he kept all these kids alive and for how long? When did they start traveling the country like this? When did he learn about his heritage? What does he like? What does he hate? Does he believe in fated love and love at first sight?

Okay, that last one can probably wait a little longer. Like, two more days, at least.

Steve hums softly, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as though he's trying to decide where to start. "I didn't know about Zeus until I was eleven," he finally says. "I only learned then because my dad couldn't figure out any other explanation for how lightning struck on clear days whenever I was angry at other kids."

"Didn't you have to deal with monsters?" Eddie asks.

"Yes. And no." Steve frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how in all those stories Zeus will change his form to get with all those women? Like, he'll become whatever he needs to get what he wants."

"I'm familiar, yeah."

"It's a little like that, but I don't change my form. I guess I change my vibe? I can make monsters think I'm the son of a lesser deity. It got even easier when El came along because monsters don't target her."

"Why not?" Eddie asks, perking up some. If El has somehow figured out how to make herself invisible to monsters, maybe other campers can learn, too.

Steve grimaces, and Eddie immediately pushes back the urge to push for more information when he says, "It's...complicated. Let's not get into it right now."

"Okay," Eddie says, flashing Steve what he hopes is a reassuring smile when Steve glances at him. "When did you meet El, then?"

"Five years ago now, when I was fifteen. El's mother showed up, dropped her off with me, threatened me with death if she ever got hurt, and then left. El was, like, just eleven at the time, and our dad was no help. He just shrugged it off and gave me a bigger allowance to care for her."

"Was he not around?"

"No. He...travels. We haven't spoken to him in four years. He hasn't tried speaking to us, either. Despite me literally being Zeus's kid, he can't exactly show me off or anything. And El...well, he can't take her to any functions, either."

Eddie nods, pushing down the urge to ask why. But Steve said he doesn't want to talk about it, so Eddie instead asks, "And what about the rest?"

Steve hums, merging into another lane. "Well, El and I stayed in place for about a year. Then we saw some weird snake monster dragging Will around like a road snack. We saved him, but I almost died. It was my first fight, you know? But I lived, obviously, and El and I agreed to take Will back to his hometown. School was one break anyway, so we just did a road trip in my BMW. We ran into Dustin and Mike along the way. Dustin had made these, like, mechanical wings, and Mike was goading him on to give them a try. We got to the cliff right as Dustin jumped off."

"Wait," Eddie says, holding his hand up to pause Steve's story. "Are you telling me the kid just...decided to recreate Icarus?" he asks.

"Yeah, pretty much. He thought he could actually succeed since he's so much smarter," Steve explains, getting an amused grin as he thinks of it. "Anyway, didn't work, obviously. Dustin fell but managed to catch himself on the cliffside, Mike was yelling his head off but not actually doing anything, and El just took off running toward them. Which meant I had to run toward them, too. So, Will is trying to calm Mike down, El is practically dangling herself over the cliff, and Dustin is lamenting the loss of his wings."

"How'd you rescue him?"

"I just climbed down myself," Steve says, shrugging like it's no big deal. "I had him get on my back and climbed up, chewed both kids out for doing something so dangerous, and then asked if they needed a ride home, which is how I found out they'd run away and were just wandering."

"Half-bloods running away is pretty common," Eddie says, sinking down in his seat as he watches the trees rush by in the darkness. "A lot of us don't feel understood by our human families, or we don't want to endanger them when monsters track us down."

Steve nods, gripping the steering wheel a little harder. "Yeah, that's what Dustin and Mike said, too. I couldn't just leave them alone, so I invited them to come with us. Mike and Will get along really well, and Dustin is a little shit, and it's good for El to have friends her own age, so it all worked out."

"That still leaves out three whole kiddos," Eddie says.

"Well, Lucas and Erica we met in Will's hometown. Their dad and Will's mom had found each other and, like, bonded over having demigod kids. When we brought Will back, we met Lucas and Erica at this, like, barbeque thing to celebrate him being safe. And their parents ended up suggesting that we continue the road trip so the kids could be around others like them before school started again."

"Usually," Eddie says, fiddling with one of his rings, "parents go two ways. They either get really obsessed with keeping their kids safe to the point they're never let out of the house, or they completely ignore and reject the godly influence. But it sounds like their parents weren't doing either of those."

"Having each other helped. There was someone they could turn to when they felt doubt or just wanted to complain. When you're isolated, though, you just do whatever you think will keep you going, even if it might hurt the people you care about."

"You put that...really well."

"I've had a lotta time to think about it," Steve admits, frowning slightly before sighing and continuing with the story. "Anyway, we met Max and her brother a few towns over. It's...not a great story, actually. Her brother was a dick, like, massively horrible. He had a lot of problems and took way too much after his godly father in terms of anger. We ended up fighting because of how he treated Max and it didn't end great, but Max joined us and that's when I realized we needed a new car because the kids were piled on top of each other in the back. We got this conversion van in the next town with my dad's credit card, and we've been traveling ever since."

It's a lot to take in, and Eddie can tell there's a lot that Steve is leaving unsaid, but he doesn't call him out for it. "Okay, so, the whole not dying thing?" he asks.

Steve snorts. "Well, when you're chaperoning a gaggle of demigods, you get good at fighting off monsters. We've also had some...help along the way from a few goddesses, though."

Eddie perks up, looking at Steve like he's an alien. "You got help from goddesses? Which ones?"

"Sometimes, I'll pray to Hestia and she'll direct us to a motel with vacancies that'll be safe for the night. Or, uh, Demeter. I'll pray to her and fruit will grow on some trees or something. Hecate treated us to lunch once, said she found us amusing, and thanked me for the entertainment. Nike, Lucas, Max, and I have all played basketball together. I mean, she smoked us, no question, but she's part of the reason this van can run a few more miles without any gas. Hera helped once, sorta."

"Hera helped you? Hera? The goddess notoriously known for hating children of Zeus? That Hera?"

"Yeah, kinda surprised me, too. But, I mean, she's also the goddess of motherhood or something, right? And all she really ever wants is Zeus to be faithful. I don't think it's too much to ask, and I can't imagine the bullshit she goes through because of him. Anyway, we were getting attacked by this hydra, and I was really struggling to protect the kids. I mean, those heads were practically tearing me apart. And then she just, like, walks up and flicks her hand and the thing is gone. She told me to do better and then, like, disappeared. Not the weirdest thing that's happened, but it's up there."

And Eddie is starting to understand how they're not dead. It's just Steve. Like the prophecy was just Steve. Somehow, he's managed to get himself into the good graces of several goddesses and get their help. It's not entirely unheard of to get a god's favor, but having so many just be genuinely interested in you is unthinkable.

Eddie gets it, though. Steve fascinates him. He's like a magnet that Eddie doesn't want to fight. "So, uh, the kids," Eddie says, trying to keep his mind from lingering on Steve and just how incredible he is, "Who are their parents?"

"Lucas and Erica are kids of Aphrodite."

"Oh, does she like you, too?" Eddie asks.

Steve frowns, looking like he's just been reminded of something sour and gross. "No, we're not on good terms," he says, his voice a little frosty, and Eddie's mouth is suddenly dry.

"Good to know," he manages, his voice a little strained.

"Anyway, Dustin is a child of Athena. Max's mom is Nemesis. Will's dad is Morpheus, and Mike's dad is Plutus. Which has worked out well for us, actually. He keeps finding money on the street whenever we really need it."

"What about El?"

"El's mother...is complicated. We don't really talk about her," Steve says, his words soft and pleading, and Eddie immediately zips his mouth shut, winking conspiratorially at Steve when he glances over.

Then he unzips his mouth and says, "You know, you're pretty metal, Stevie."

Steve laughs, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth and glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure the kids are still sleeping. When he sees that they are, he relaxes a little. "I've never been called metal before," he says, glancing at Eddie.

"Well, that's a shame. I'll be sure to tell you whenever you're being particularly metal, big boy."

"Big boy?" Steve asks, amusement clear in his voice, and Eddie suddenly worries that Steve doesn't actually like the nickname but it trying to play it off.

Unfortunately, the problem is that Eddie has never been one to filter himself. So when Steve calls him out for the nickname and he panics, Eddie's knee-jerk reaction is to say, "Oh, would you prefer something else? How about pretty boy? Sweetheart? Gorgeous? Handsome?"

Even though it's dark out, Eddie can still see the blush that spreads across Steve's cheeks, the way his fingers tighten on the wheel until his knuckles turn white. He's getting flustered, and Eddie feels himself getting flustered, too, at the idea that it's because of him. He suddenly wants to see what else he can say or do to make that blush spread, and he wants to know just how far it spreads beneath the collar of Steve's shirt.

"Just, uh, whatever you prefer, I guess," Steve mumbles, keeping his eyes resolutely focused on the road and missing Eddie's surprised expression. He does, however, sneak a glance just in time to see the surprise morph into an unbridled grin.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning back in his seat and looking forward to spending the rest of this road trip discovering what makes his Stevie tick.

----

Tag List! There is still room, I think lol

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos

[misstrashchan]

2, 3, 7, 20, 27, 28, 29, for the rwby ask game? If you don't mind!

2. Rank the soundtracks

From favourite to least:

V1

Not a single track I don't love. Forever iconic, each and every one.

V5

Ignite is my favorite Yang song, as is Path to Isolation for Weiss. Smile is such a tragic song of showing Ilia's parents telling her to cope by smiling, by hiding, to the present where it's twisted into an angry mantra and she's still hiding who she is in a different way. The Triumph feels like such a comeback song with how high energy it is, all our girls heading back to each other, jumping back into the fray. All that Matters is PEAK bumbleby pining angst song. All Things Must Die is glorious, and tbh I think even This Time is pretty underrated as a song for Blake/the White Fang.

V7

I find myself relistening to this one a lot. Trust Love is my favorite OP (and yes that is in part the refrences to the Little Prince I can draw). I also like Touch the Sky and Brand New Day as these kind of recovery songs for all the characters that had been at their lowest or feeling lost finding their hope and confidence, happy in themselves. Let's get Real is a song that DID get me into Renora a little, it's a bop. Was over the moon to have an Oscar song in Fear that encapsulated the theme of the volume and complimented Ozpin's fear speech. Hero makes my brain go AAAAHHHH at how it captures the hubris of Ironwood. Such a great tragic downfall song for his character. Until the End is a great listen and such a lovely surprise to have a Ruby song after so long. War is a certified banger and a great song for the RWBY vs Ace Ops fight.

V9

In fairness I don't think I've listened to this one enough, but the more I do it definitely grows on me. Inside feels like the most unique OP, Checkmate is catchy as hell, Trapdoor makes me INSANE as a Ruby spiralling song. Pleasantly surprised to have a Jaune song in Quiet that's very moving. Worthy is beautiful as a Bumbleby confession/kiss song, truly magical. As a whole I feel the songs lean into being more gentle and introspective as to the usual hardcore rock ballads we know RWBY for, even Checkmate with it's jazziness feels fresh and new. I haven't actually listened to the Edge or Guide my Way enough to have an opinion on them, but I remember liking them, Guide my Way is a nice continuation and evolution of the Red like Roses song trilogy.

V3

When it Falls is SO HARDCORE. Bleeding edge and tragedy for the death and destruction to come. I'm the One is fantastic at laying out Emerald and Mercury's trauma's and subsequently coping mechanisms. Neon is one I like to listen to a lot, it's so fun and upbeat. Divide is brutal and chilling as the song to introduce us to our main villain after seeing her for the first time in all her dark glory at the end of V3. Not Fall in Love with You is... eh. It's my Turn is a good Weiss song, but it's not one if my favorites.

V6

I really like Rising as an OP, it feels the most... magical? fantastical? idk. I like the vibes. Indomitable is what I feel like singing all the time in wake of the recent RWBY news! We really are indomitable! Nevermore as a true triumph over Blake and Yang's trauma at Adam's hands, while acknowledging the tragedy of Adam's own situation. And Big Metal Shoe is a certified banger, love all the fairytale references crammed in there. Miracle is... fine. One Thing is a great song for Neo's return and revenge quest, but I never bought into the Neo hype so I'm kinda mid on it too.

V2. SACRIFICE I LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER PLEASE REPRISE IN THE SHOW LATER WITH CINDER PRETTY PLEASE. Now it's Time to Say Goodbye is an incredible banger of an OP, but it felt a little misleading considering it's a song all about losing innocence and leaving behind childhood, which feels more appropriate for V3 and the FoB than V2. Shine, Dream Come True and Boop are all fun and cute but I'm not hugely into Arkos or Renora so I'm kinda neutral on them. I'm also kind of mid on Time to Die as a song.

V8. Honestly this is just the soundtrack I find myself listening to or remembering the least, even though I really like Friend as the perfect Penny song that had me tearing up, and Truth, while short was a great bittersweet song for Cinder. And it was nice to get a Nora song too. The opening for this volume never really grew on me like all the others did (aside from the "some ROSES WILL NEVER BLOOM, SOME HEROES CHOOSE THE WRONG SIDE"). I also just associate this soundtrack with fandom arguing a lot about what song applied to who and it felt exhausting.

3. Favorite Ruby ship?

ROSEGARDEN ALL THE WAY BABY!

7. Favorite lines I already answered for @hoepunkausta

20. What are you looking forward to seeing in Vacuo?

*vibrating at a frequency unknown to man* idk I think a reunion hug between Ruby and Oscar would be neat maybe. Like @aspoonofsugar has pointed out all the set up at the end of the extended epilogue points to these two having a second alchemical wedding and so their relationship having a certain amount of focus/development in Vacuo seems apparent. After so long of not seeing them onscreen together I'm excited for any interactions honestly. I miss my kids.

Wanting to see WBY all trying to support Ruby more and her actively trying but still struggling to open about how she's feeling. More of what see saw with Ruby/Yang in the Boba episode. I'd especially like Ruby and Weiss to have a heart to heart.

Very curious about what Theodore is gonna be like and whoever the hell the Summer maiden. With the Dorothy allusions and those who've lost their homes trying to make one in Vacuo, I'm expecting an exploration of "there's no place like home" to be leant into.

RAVEN. TELL US WHAT HAPPENED ON THAT MISSION WITH YOU AND SUMMER. RUBY AND YANG DESERVE TO KNOW. For real though I'm hoping we see what lead Raven to rejoin the fray too, and how she'll interact with Yang and Qrow and even Ruby, what tension might be there. Delicious family drama....

Speaking of delicious family drama, the Schnees! all reunited! I want Winter and Whitley to tackle hug Weiss to the ground! Also the Schnees appear to be being confronted with all the harm their family and company has done in a kingdom like Vacuo, so I'm curious to see how Weiss handles that. Also Winter is clearly Not Doing Good, so something I'd really like is if Weiss (as her sister) and Ruby (as a friend of Penny and someone she also offered the maiden powers too) and maybe Jaune (who was there with Penny in her final moments) offer comfort to her and they all grieve together.

Emerald. Honestly suprised we didn't get much of a sense of how she was doing in the extended epilogue, not even briefly like Mercury. But I'm super excited for what her arc holds. Seeing her integrate with the group, if Ren, Nora and Oscar are already on friendly terms with her but RWBY are all still a bit wary of her because they've spent less time together. Seeing more of her friendship with Oscar develop (gimme that Little Prince/Fox allusion with their friendship in taming each other pretty please) and like. Mercury. Emerald KNEW Mercury and Tyrian were being sent to Vacuo, she saw him off in the ship, but Ren seems suprised to see him and Tyrian on the cameras in the epilogue. Did Emerald... not tell them? Even though that's incredibly important information that could help her new allies? Because... she wanted to protect Mercury? Because she still feels conflicted? It's incredibly juicy and I can't wait to see how Emerald and Mercury's relationship comes into conflict during the Vacuo arc. Gimme that Emercury angst pretty please.

Vacuo in general. By virtue of the books I think they have the most interesting world building, the food, the culture, the different words for weather phenomenon, the fauna, the nomadic tribes, the history of being a once incredibly beautiful oasis full of everything they needed, then exploited time and again and left with nothing and yet still surviving and carving a home and life for themselves. The world building of Vacuo is one that is inevitably tied to the story because of their fraught history leading to tensions between them and all the refugees from Atlas, Mantle and Vale seeking their aid and shelter in their kingdom, not to mention the Crown seeking to restore the monarchy, it'd be easy for them to be divided and conquered by Salem, and so our heroes have to find a way to overcome that and bring everyone together. So just getting to see the kingdom animated and learn more about its history and culture would be cool. I also like desert punk aesthetic, so I'm hoping whatever new outfits our girls get will have a little of that. (part of me hopes for maybe some Trigun inspiration... we've had Gurren Laggan inspiration in Yang's outfits before!)

I would also say I'm looking forward to seeing my darling cringefail wife Cinder but I don't know if she'll be in Vacuo or with Salem in Vale wrecking shit.

27. Favorite voice performance?

AARON DISMUKE AS OSCAR HANDS DOWN. Him being the VA for Oscar meant I was destined to like him, I usually do with characters he voices. The fact he has to also voice Oscar when controlled by Ozpin, and sometimes Oscar pretending to be Ozpin, and completely nails the subtle differences in all of them is phenomenal. And as the merge progresses he's literally having to mix and merge their voices together too!!! It's crazy!!! The awkward and shy intonation becoming a more sincere and quiet confident voice as Oscar develops, and gaining Oz's mannerisms in speech with a deeper and more serious tone. That is some crazy talent this man has.

Always impressed with how well Linsay Jones and Miles Luna hold up in earlier volumes, they've consistently been the best voice performances from start to present. Also Cherami Leigh as Ilia is absolutely fantastic, it's rare I've heard her get to flex her emotional range like that in her voice work for such a complex character.

28. Fairytale character you'd want to see RWBYfied?

With how character songs are a big thing in the show and semblances that can hypnotize and mind control exist, and instruments sometimes being weapons (gestures to Flynt), I'd love an allusion to The Pied Piper or the Lorelai Siren as a villain of some kind. Bonus if you had a Little Mermaid/Lorelai Siren allusion for that victim/monster/hero duality RWBY likes to play with.

Not technically a traditional fairytale but also very much one, the Last Unicorn, one of my alltime favorite books would be beyond amazing to be alluded to, even a tiny bit. Amalthea the unicorn being the last of her kind, the rest hunted down by a wicked beast at the order of a tyrant. She is associated with silver, the moon, hope and purity constantly. A story that is both a love letter and deconstruction of fairytales, an exploration of the nature of humanity and mortality. Tell me that wouldn't be perfect as an allusion to a Silver Eyed Warrior (also thought to be a myth) trying to find out what happened to the rest of her kind.

29. Favorite opening to sing along too?

TRUST LOOOOOVVVVVEEEE AND OPEN UP YOUR EYESEESSSSS TRUST LOOOOVVVVVEEEE THE TRUTH IS THERE BUT SOMETIMES IN DISGUISE

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

-

K listen, I've haven't written any band FF in a LONG LONG LONG time, mkay? But Bad Omens...Noah Sebastian...mmmph. Let's see how far we get here. If you enjoy, let me know. If you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know that too. If you even so much as take the time to read MY SINCEREST GRATITUDES CAUSE WRITING THIS STUFF IS MY ESCAPE. xo

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 1 - Burning Out

Work had been long today. Longer than most days. The customers screaming at me had only taken it's toll so much, but having a God awful supervisor who was hell bent on making me late for my meeting, knowing full well how important my twice weekly meetings were, had completely wiped my energy and patience in one fell swoop. Needless to say, I was in no mood for excess attitude or traffic today. Which is why I found myself cursing at the jackass in the SUV in front of me, taking at least a year to make a right hand turn into the close to empty parking lot where the meeting was being held. It took the last of my self restraint to not lay on my horn and flip a specific finger at the driver.

Finally reaching the normal parking space in front of the unmarked office building, I silently breathed a sigh of relief. I had made it, only 2 minutes later than I should be. I began scrambling for my energy drink and my bag before shuffling out of my car and pressing the fob to hear the beep of the alarm set. My poor beat up Tahoe was doing her best, so I never took my frustrations out on her.

As I crossed the parking lot, I whipped my head around to gauge the spaces, noticing all of the regulars were already here, meaning I was the last to arrive. Sucks, given I'm the meeting organizer. Something caught my eye. A vehicle I didn't recognize, a black SUV. The same one who apparently can't make a right turn to save their life. Newbie? The rest of the offices were closed for the day, so I can't see why else they'd be here.

The building is always so quiet at 6PM, so the tapping of my chucks on the tile floors is louder than I'd like, drawing attention to my obvious lateness. (To who?). Didn't matter. I felt ashamed. These meetings are the most important facet of my life right now. I needed to be more punctual. Maybe next time, I'll tell Supervisor Sam to fuck right off like he deserves.

"Guys, I am so fucking sorry. Douchebag sup made me late...again." I announced as I backed into the door, opening it, and heading straight to the table to pull the Crumbl cookies out of my bag and setting them next to the water cooler and Keurig machine. I always brought sweets. It kept the cravings away.

"No worries Leena, we've just been chatting with the new guy." I turned around to see Abel, my veteran, who was gesturing to someone I didn't know.

I went around the circle of chairs, counting off my regular faces, some newer than others.

Abel, Rodger, Syd, Seth, Ali, Jackson, Mark, and Jillian.

However, sitting between Abel and Jillian was a newcomer, who currently had his back turned, slumped forward in his chair. Brown hair, longer than the hat he wore, black sweatshirt and dark blue jeans. Black sneakers. Hood up. Guarded, uncomfortable. What little of his hands I could see kneading together, they were completely tattooed. Even at Abel's mention of him, he didn't turn to face me.

"Oh! Well good! Great job guys. We can go ahead and get started." I grabbed my clipboard off the table, and rounded the group and took my normal spot next to Syd. By the way her hair was pulled back and her face looked dry and sullen, I could tell we had some things to talk about today.

"Well, my new folks don't typically like to talk first on their first day, but just know, that you being here is only the beginning. And we are all here to welcome you to our group. Right, guys?" I directed my statement toward the stranger, who I now can see more clearly. His face is pale, with the exception of the dark circles rested comfortably above his cheekbones. If I were to take a guess, those had been there a while.

The rest of my group nodded, with several of them giving a quick 'That's right.' and 'Welcome in.'

"I'm Leena, the group coordinator. I can answer any questions you may have?" The stranger just peered at me with dark eyes and shook his head. "Okay, we can jump right in, then."

I could feel Syd next to me bursting to talk, so I looked to her.

"Syd, do you want to get us started today?" She only nodded, wiping some stray tears forming on her cheeks.

Syd was such a beautiful girl. Only 21 years old, it was amazing that she found the strength to come to us so young, and work on turning her life around. Her neon blue hair was knotted on top of her head, and she was picking feverishly at her sleeve of her sweater. I could feel what was coming. I always could.

"I...I fell off the wagon." I only nodded, knowing. She had missed three meetings, and unless someone forewarned me about vacations or work obligations, it almost always meant they were on a bender of some kind.

"Okay," As her tears began pouring, I reached over and ran a hand up her arm. There was a reason I sat Syd right next to me. She had been one of my newest, and biggest challenges. Overcoming the demons was an every day, every moment, every second battle that she was still very much fighting. "It's alright honey. We're all here to support you. No one is judging."

She went on to explain she had began with a mimosa at brunch with her friends, who didn't know she was in recovery. She didn't want them to know, so she tried to just sip. It didn't work. It never does. The one drink lead to a blackout weekend and three days in jail for public intoxication. She lost the job she had just gotten at the local DMV. Syd was going through it. She would need Seth, her sponsor, more than usual right now. He was on the other side of her, clutching her hand as she cried.

Once Syd had finished her confession, and emotionally put her 30-day coin back in the jar, we moved on to Seth.

One by one, through the circle, we heard everyone's stories of recent achievements and sorrows. Challenges and victories. Their ongoing battles. Once Jillian finished telling us about her recent trip to Vegas with her friends, where she managed not to have a single drink. We applauded her, because we all knew how much restraint that took.

I would steal occasional glances at our guest, whose eyes would also glance back at me once in a while, but mostly followed the speakers, never moving in his chair, stoic as cement. This isn't uncommon for people coming here for the first time. It's not easy to do, and it's wildly uncomfortable at first.

However, the circle was now all looking at him, and a look of almost panic flashed across his face.

"Is it on me?" His voice was deeper than I expected, with a clear rasp to it that told me all I needed to know about his history. He belonged here, and we were glad to have him.

I nodded. "How much you tell us is entirely up to you, but all I ask is you at least tell us your name, and why you're here."

He bit his bottom lip, eyes cast at me from across the room, looking up through long, dark eyelashes. "I have to say it out loud?"

"That's one of the first steps." I kept a soft smile on my face. Being warm, and understanding was my entire job here.

Abel's elbow nudged the stranger, who glanced at him, encouraging him. "No worries man, we've all been here."

A hard sigh left his throat, ending with a sharp cough.

"My name is Noah. And I'm an alcoholic."

****

Once the meeting had ended, I was stacking chairs back against the wall, prepping the room for the next meeting, NA. They had their own setup, and would be in here in about 30 minutes. Most everyone had left, with the exception of Abel, Syd, and Noah. Our newest AA member had been pretty tight-lipped about himself, only admitted to being 27 years old, and in the entertainment industry. He didn't elaborate further. That was just fine. If he kept coming, we would encourage him further, but AA was all about getting you through it at your pace. As long as you didn't drink, I was happy.

I was putting away the leftover cookies, planning to take the last couple with me to work tomorrow for a snack. I happened to catch a glimpse of someone leaving the restroom, and I noticed it was Noah. Everyone else had left only a couple minutes ago.

"Oh, hey!" I waved at him to come over. He paced his tall frame over to me, towering over me easily. He had at least a foot of height on me, which was hilarious, given I was a year older and 3 years sober myself.

"Hey, thanks for having me today. I didn't know if you could just come to these things." I slung my bag over my shoulder, smiling at him.

"C'mon, I wanted to chat with you before you left." We made our way out of the building as Angie, the NA organizer walked in past us, smiling at us both.

We reached the parking lot, my green Tahoe and the same black SUV being some of the only vehicles left. It dawned on me that he drove the SUV. Well, he may need a driving lesson, but he seemed nice enough.

I turned to face him before heading for my car. "Have you talked to anyone about being a sponsor? The only requirements I have is that they have been sober at least 6 months. Almost everyone in our group is, with the exception of Syd and Jackson." I could see him chewing his lip, his fingers fiddling with his keys.

"No, I...I didn't think about it." His eyes were looking everywhere but at me.

"Noah?" I asked, trying to get his attention. "Do you know what a sponsor is?"

This drew a short, burst of a chuckle out of him, his lips curling in a sheepish grin while he shook his head. I saw his frame relax for just a second, his arm reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

"I don't." I nodded, chuckling myself.

"No worries! I didn't when I started either." I waved him over to the bench perched just outside the building. He followed me and we sat. "A sponsor is someone to keep you straight. Someone who will keep your head on when you feel like you might fall off." He was listening, eyes fixed on me. "This is the person you call when you want a drink. They'll talk you down, distract you. Support you." He nodded, understanding crossing his features.

"Do they have to be a member of the group?"

"No, not necessarily, but they do need to be sober. A sponsor is no good if they are drinking and setting bad examples."

"Makes sense. I'll think on it." I stood up then, stretching up on my toes to flex my legs that had been sitting most the day. He stayed sat, now looking up at me.

"I do need you to have a sponsor by the next meeting on Thursday, though. Have to have one by your second session. And if you don't have one by then, we can get someone in the group to sponsor you, no problem."

He raised a brow at me, a smirk on his lips. "Didn't you say you only had one rule?" This threw me off. Smartass? It was innocent, I could tell, but a joker. Hadn't had one of those in a while.

I laughed it off. "Well, I only do for your first day. There are only a few rules to AA, but they're pretty much common sense."

He stood then, towering me once again. "Can you tell me anyway? I don't want to fuck this up." We then began walking back towards the cars. When I walked toward mine, he followed. It was dark already, so I didn't mind. This was LA, after all.

"Well, the first is obvious, no drinking." I popped my driver door open and flung my bag in toward the passenger's side. He nodded at me and leaned against the rear door of my truck.

"Second, no coming in drunk. As obvious as that may seem, you would not believe how many people I've kicked out of the meeting for showing up mid-bender." He raised his eyebrows. "As much as I'd like to keep and eye on them, it's not good for the other members."

"No, for sure." His tone was even.

"And lastly," I then looked straight at him, so he knew how serious I was. "don't ever lie to me." I could see him straighten just a little, feeling the seriousness of what I was saying. "If you fell off, admit it. I'm not judging. I did, so many times. But if you lie, you're out." I then took a step closer, if only to make my point, "Because I always find out."

He kicked off from my truck, his body less than six inches from mine. He looked down at me, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes ma'am." I felt a twinge up the back of my spine. It was a little warm all of a sudden, and my mouth was dry. I stepped back, and was able to regain my brain.

I smiled brightly at him and swung myself up into my truck. Before I slid my legs in, I looked at him, now almost at eye-level.

"Great! I'll see you Thursday, then!"

[sashaisready]

Chapter Ten - Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Warning: Beginning of smut 😎

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

He sets off out of the alley and you pause for a second before following him back to the club entrance, not really sure where this is going. He gestures to the bouncers who let you both in and he strolls back through to the bar area.

"Bucky, how is this quiet-" you protest but he just grabs your hand and leads you around the bar.

You flinch at the contact, making a mental note to remember later how your hand felt in his.

He leads you to a door and ushers you towards a flight of stairs. You drop in line behind him, your curiosity taking over. There's another door at the top which he unlocks with a fob and props open for you.

You step inside, it's a chic office with a huge mustard couch, as well as a small bar in the corner alongside the large writing desk. The walls are a brilliant white. Everything is modern and expensive looking, lots of high end wood and fancy furnishings. It looks like a picture from an interior design magazine.

He closes the door and looks at you expectantly, wriggling his fingers in a 'Ta da!' gesture. It's a lovely room, but you're not really sure what your meant to be looking at.

"I mean it's nice but..." you begin.

"And what can you hear?" he asks.

You pause. "Nothing...? Oh wait...wow, nothing!" You realise there is not a single sound coming from the thriving nightclub below.

He nods. "Yep...completely sound proofed up here. Perfect if you want some peace".

You listen out for any suggestion of a sound from below but he's right, the only noises are your footsteps as you walk through the room.

"It's so quiet" you gasp. "You could murder someone up here and-"

You freeze for a second, realising your mistake and who you're talking to. You turn to him, the colour draining from your face.

He just shrugs and awkwardly grimaces.

"Well...If you don't want anyone to hear anything" he sighs with a loaded inflection.

Your mouth hangs open in shock and your eyes dart around the space, looking at it with horror now you have new context – panicking as you wonder what might have happened where you're standing. A chill runs down your spine.

Bucky begins to snort with laughter. You flip around to look at him with your brows furrowed.

"Fuck, I'm kidding!" he laughs warmly. "It's only soundproofed so I can get some work done when the club's open...You've seen too many movies".

"Jesus, Bucky!" you squeal, slugging him on the shoulder. "You're such a dick".

You laugh reluctantly, relieved that he's only playing with you.

You flop onto the enormous couch, savouring the comfort.

"Thank-you for this, I just need a minute".

"Take as long as you like, Doll" he says kindly, taking a seat next to you.

You shoot up suddenly and look at him, remembering what he was doing before you ran out.

"Oh, wait – don't you need to get back to your girlfriend?"

Bucky frowns. "Who?"

"You know, that pretty girl you were with downstairs".

He scoffs. "She's not my girlfriend. She just attached herself to me in the VIP area like a limpet. I don't even know her name, why do you think I didn't introduce her to you?"

You snort laughing. "Fuck, you're such a pig" you giggle.

He grins smugly. "So I've been told".

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting at him. He smiles back, moving closer to you so that your legs are touching. You manage to stifle a gasp.

"So you thought she was pretty, huh?" he asks teasingly.

You nod. "Jesus Christ, yeah. Stunning. But all your girls are, aren't they?" you smirk back at him.

His eyes are suddenly alight with mischief.

"And how would you know that?" he purrs.

"You're not the only one who can read up on people..."

He cocks his head as he watches you intently. 

"So...what, you didn't want to be one of them?" His voice is lower now, less playful, more serious now your previous conversation has come up.

You rub your lips together, unsure of how much to admit to him. Everything just got a bit heavier. You pause for a moment, considering what to say. You're quickly sinking under the weight of his gaze.

"Well...I didn't think I could be one of them" you finally admit. Your voice is small, shy.

"What?" he asks, his face is suddenly stern.

"C'mon Bucky. Let's be real. I don't look like any of those girls" you shrug. "I was never going to fit in at Gambino's with thousand dollar wine bottles and cuts of steak costing more than my rent. I'm more...a beer and burgers kinda girl, you know? I didn't want to embarrass you..." you shrug.

He jumps up from the couch. "What??" he practically barks, his face twisted in anger.

"What?" you ask incredulously, surprised by his reaction.

"THAT'S why you turned me down??" he practically snarls.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Well...yeah".

He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief. "You're kidding me right??"

You chew your bottom lip. "....no?" You said hesitatingly, not sure what answer he's looking for.

Bucky stamps his foot and claps his hands victoriously.

"Fuck! I knew I wasn't going insane at the bakery" he whips out his phone. "I need to tell Steve this and rub it in his face" he says childishly as begins to furiously type on his screen.

This goes on for a few moments, his focus on you now entirely lost.

You glare at him with confusion, unsure of what you're meant to be doing. You're a bit annoyed that this is his reaction after you were open with him, putting yourself out there and admitting your insecurities. Now, what, he's texting his friends?? You slowly rise to your feet and awkwardly head for the door, thinking you should probably leave him to it.

"Nope" he says authoritatively. Without looking up from his phone he points aggressively to the couch.

"Sit your ass back down, I'm not done with you yet".

You obey him and plop yourself back onto the couch again immediately, responding to the assertiveness in his tone almost instinctively, seeing a tiny glimpse of his boss persona.

He finally finishes on his phone and slides it into his jacket inside pocket. His eyes lock onto you once more.

"Okay, so where we were? Oh, right. What the fuck is the matter with you?" He asks inquisitively.

"Excuse me?" You respond coolly, scowling at him.

"Am I getting this right - you turned me down for a date because you were uncomfortable with the restaurant choice and got yourself worked up looking at photos of me and other women?" He scolds, folding his arms across his chest.

"...uh. Yes".

"Right. So you did want to go out with me? And you were flirting with me in the bakery, right?"

You blush, feeling embarrassed at this interrogation and exposure of your feelings.

"...yes" you reply meekly.

He nods. "Okay. So I'll ask you again, what the fuck is the matter with you?"

You glare at him and clench your jaw. "I'm not going to sit here being spoken to like this"

You get up to leave and furiously head towards the door but he blocks your path.

"Dolldolldoll - I'm sorry" he stammers, grinning at you fiendishly.

"Don't be like that. I don't mean to give you a hard time. I just didn't see this coming. Here's me thinking you just didn't want to go out with me, that I'd misread all of the signals. That's why I haven't been back to the bakery – I assumed you thought I was a creepy jerkoff".

You avert your gaze. "No...but maybe I do now."

Your tone is stroppy, sullen. You're embarrassed that he finds this all so amusing.

He cups your chin in his hand and your breath hitches. He gently tilts your face up with his gloved fingers, leaning in close. You look up at him anxiously, very aware of the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

"Doll..." he says, much softer now. "All you had to do was tell me. We didn't have to go to Gambino's. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice. But I'd never want you to feel uncomfortable. We could've gone anywhere. Hell, I would've taken you to Burger King if that's what you wanted".

You beam at him. "Really?"

"Really." He grins back.

"But all those women, Bucky. I don't look like them. I just don't know if I'm enough for you-"

But you don't finish your sentence because he cuts you off with a sudden kiss. He pulls your face to his, nibbling on your lower lip for a moment before his tongue is in your mouth. You press back into him, your hands entwined in his hair as your tongue welcomes him greedily. You're practically panting as his arms lock you in his embrace. Your entire body seems to fizz as you drop the bottle of water you've been clutching. It's electric, better than you could have ever imagined.

He pulls away and locks your face between his hands, holding you so close that he's practically eye to eye with you.

"You really think I'd do that if I didn't find you attractive enough, Doll?" He tells you between heavy breaths.

"If I didn't think you were gorgeous? If I hadn't been losing my mind thinking about what's under your overalls every time I'm in the bak-"

It's your turn to cut him off now. You push him down onto the sofa, straddling him as you return to your place on his mouth, kissing him desperately, hungrily - as if it could be snatched away from you at any moment.

He kisses back just as urgently, his hands running up your back and over your hips. You can feel the metal arm now. His gloves are still on but you can feel the weight of it, feel the difference between it and his other hand as his fingers slide up the back of your dress.

You weren't even aware that you'd begun to rock back and forth, your crotch rubbing against his suit trousers as you desperately seek friction.

He moans softly into your mouth, it cuts through your lust haze and goes straight to your core. Your only thought is that you want to hear him make more of those noises. And you want to be the one causing them. Teasing them out piece by piece as if uncovering buried treasure.

He manages to peel you off him for a moment, gasping for breath as he looks at you.

"Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?" He pants. "I mean I'm happy to keep going here but I'm aware one of my men might come knocking at any moment - and I don't think I'm going to be able to stop if we go any further..."

You ponder his question as he begins to smatter butterfly kisses up your neck and down to your chest. You mewl at the feeling. On the one hand you want to go home with him - do this properly with the care it deserves and not risk interruption by one of Bucky's goons should something need his attention in the club...

...But you know you're already dripping. You're practically aching for him, desperate to feel him. You whine in frustration at having to stop, your libido clouding your judgement.

Bucky grins, his ego imploding at your clear desire for him. You've barely touched one another and you're already foggy with lust.

"Can we go to your place?" You ask quietly.

He nods and smiles at you, tapping your back with his fingers to signal for you to get off his lap. You do, getting to your feet and giving yourself a shake to break out of your cloud of arousal. Bucky grunts and adjusts his obvious erection as he stands up. 

You go to pick up the water bottle you dropped but he just waves it away and grabs your hand - leading you back down the stairs.

[mikeyswayy]

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(UPDATED INTRO POST)

(𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨...)

DNI'S are literally only like MSI fans.. oh and if your homophobic, transphobic, racist. anything like that.. oh and if your possibly one of my family members

⚰︎

I don't have a name, call me cunt or something I don't care

•

MCR is my favorite band, I like fob too and I forgot but I love any of Frankie's bands too! And Gees solo music!!!!!

⚰︎

My favorite movies are (these aren't in order btw) Donnie Darko, star Wars, life on the murder scene. (I like the Chucky movies too, I was raised on them but they're not my favorite)

˙

Favorite TV shows, the walking dead (all the spin-offs too) , umbrella academy, Chucky (I'm a big nerd for child's play and Chucky btw) / (I can't think of others right now but I think I have some more maybe..)

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Favorite comics, the walking dead, the true lives of the fabulous Killjoys, the true lives of the fabulous Killjoys: national anthem, umbrella academy (I have more but like I forget a lot so..)

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Favorite games, the walking dead telltale games (I have others that I'm not gonna name here bc I wanna say it somewhere else.. But you'll probably know soon enough)

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Favorite colors are red and black

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My favorite YouTubers are jake webber and Johnnie guilbert but I have a few more and they do pranks but like I don't think anyone that's here probably likes them so.. Well carry on.

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Favorite album is I brought you my bullets, you brought me your love

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Favorite songs are, my way home is through you, not that kind of girl, Emily, black dragon fighting society, all the angels and tomorrow's money

⚰︎

𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦 :

I've always wanted to play bass

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I wanna make comics, draw and maybe write some.. :D

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I'm a minor, don't be a Creepazoid.. but i dont care if your over 18 :P

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Literally obsessed with Mikey way..

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I like sour candies, war heads I like a lot. Sour candy also isn't sour to me..

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I like vampires (𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘦) and that stuff, bats too I guess

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Blood is cool too

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I draw sometimes (𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦?)

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I edit sometimes..

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I'm awake all night listening to MCR, and all day almost too..

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Petekey.. ♡

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Frerard ♥︎

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My favorite soda is root beer

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I'm running out of things to say now.. Let's carry on..

⚰︎

This is the end.. So.. Bye? I don't know.. Want the lyrics to the foundations of decay? There, it's down there ↓

See the man who stands upon the hill

He dreams of all the battles won

But fate had left its scars upon his face

With all the damage they had done

And so tired with age, he turns the page

Let the flesh submit itself to gravity

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain

Now, if your convictions were a passing phase

May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays

And as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay

He was there the day the towers fell

And so he wandered down the road

And we would all build towers of our own

Only to watch the roots corrode

But it's much too late, you're in the race

So we'll press and press 'til you can't take it anymore

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain

And if, by his own hand, his spirit flies

Take his body as a relic to be canonized

Now, and so he gets to die a saint

But she will always be a whore

Against faith (cage all the animals)

Against all odds ('cause the message must be pure)

Against change (you can wander through the ruins)

We are free (but the poison is the cure)

You must fix your heart

And you must build an altar where it swells

When the storm, it gains and the sky, it rains

Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away

And as you stumble through your last crusade

Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?

And as the swarm it calls, we lay in the foundations

Yes, it comforts me much more

Yes, it comforts me much more

To lay in the foundations of decay

Get up, coward

Now, so long and goodnight...

(I'll probably be adding more once I remember more shit, but for now Run, run, bunny, run)

(𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧...)

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[stpansy]

saint ive seen several ppl say “side effect” is peterick coded. why??

oh man well. um. ok. first of all, the title comes from a line in station to station, which is one of patrick's favorite bowie songs (this is also the 2004 interview where pete says if he had to marry a dude it would be patrick lol, it's a good one, you should watch it).

if i'm being so honest side effect is one of those songs that is very difficult for me to listen to without feeling like i'm being hit by a bus. it's so achingly naked in its honesty. it is also one of fob's songs that i feel is most obviously about being queer. the repeated refrain of "but i'm coming out" and the way it switches to "think of all the places where you've been lost and found... out," are just. genuinely haunting to me. particularly that pause in the final line, and the way patrick's voice sounds so raw over just the acoustic guitar. i talk all the time about fob having certain songs that really just cut to the core in such a specific way if you're queer, and this is one of them. the whole thing is brimming with that feeling of realization and terror that what you are inside will completely alter the way you're viewed forever in the negative.

but this song is also about a relationship. it's about two people. "why can you read me like no one else?" this person already understands the speaker the way nobody else does. they are the only person in the world who does, even set apart from "my friends." but if "they" find out it will "make them so jealous... make them hate us." jealous of what these two have and hating them because of it at the same time. it's not either or, it's both, people will be jealous of them and hate them for what they find out, and it's not a possibility it's a certainty--so "i hide behind these words" and "think of all the places where you've been lost and found... out / in between my sheets in between rights and wrongs."

as for why ppl see this as a p2 song, well, there's a lot there. a lot of it is pretty self-explanatory. a lot of it is born out of the way they talk to/about each other. i think specifically of this pete quote (from 2020 by the way, but a motif that's been echoed through their whole friendship).

source

this is already too long so i'm going to leave it here before i get too crazy lmao.

[shina913]

Stalemate, Part 1 | MYG

Stalemate (Mini-series)

Definition:  (1) Chess. a position of the pieces in which a player cannot move any piece except the king and cannot move the king without putting it in check. (2) any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock

Pairing: Woodworker!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: breakup!AU; toxic relationships; angst; fluff; smut; heavy drama

Summary: "The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

Word count: 8.9K+ words

Warnings (more written in individual chapters): problematic exes; relationship insecurities; alcohol consumption; cussing; miscommunication; past infidelity (reader had an affair with a married man but not detailed); vulnerable confessions; protected sex; oral sex (F-receiving); breast/nipple play; dirty talk; jealousy; multiple orgasms; verbal confrontation; a terrible joke about wood 😑

A/N: Phew! What a way to break my month-long writing drought/limbo...jumping from one unfinished WIP to another. As I mentioned on the series masterlist, this is a nonlinear story so you'll see multiple time jumps. I tried to map out the timeline using "Now" and "Then" headings so I hope that helps!

I was also going to straight-shot this but Part 2 is still missing a couple of scenes so I hope to post that in the next day or two. Until then, here's some smangsty-angst!

Now…

Yoongi pushes the button of his key fob to lock his car then walks across the street toward an alleyway. Over a decade ago, this area, at this time of night was always questionable at best. But the neighborhood was changing and old warehouses like these were being converted into some tech start-up office, a pop-up restaurant, or sometimes, the occasional modern art gallery.

“Yoongi!”

His friend, Namjoon’s voice boomed through the loud chatter and house music. He rushes to greet him by the entrance with a hug.

“Hey, glad you could come out tonight!”

Yoongi scans the surroundings and nods in approval. He gasps, “Wow–this looks great, Joon!”

“Thanks, man. Do you like how we styled all of the light fixtures?”

Both men look up at the ceiling and marvel at the decor. “I think I might run out of adjectives tonight,” Yoongi laughs. “I love what you did with them. They look awesome!”

“Great to be friends with the supplier, huh?” Namjoon grinned, elbowing Yoongi playfully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yoongi answers wryly. “Only for you, Namjoonah.”

“Listen, I’d love to hang out and chat but there’s a lot of people here tonight. Lots of people to rub shoulders with, you know?”

“Aish, go ahead, man–it’s your night. I’ll be fine,” Yoongi smiles.

“Alright well, there’s an open bar set up in the patio and we’ve got people walking around with finger-foods. Just help yourself and have fun, yeah?”

After Namjoon walks away, Yoongi starts to walk deeper into the building and sees doors leading to an outdoor area to where a makeshift bar is set up. While he waits for the bartender to bring him his drink, he turns around to admire his friend’s place once more.

It had been a while since Yoongi had gone out on a weekend–by choice. He mostly preferred to stay in and be a recluse or occupy his time by working.

“Sir, your drink?”

Yoongi turns back toward the bar to take his beer. “Thanks,” he nods at the bartender, then drops a dollar in the tip jar.

As he starts to turn and walk away, he pauses while his vision lands on one corner, next to one of the multiple mobile sculptures installed in the space.

He watched from a distance as you carefully gazed at the exhibit, trying to find some deeper meaning or metaphor that it was trying to convey. Once you were ready to move onto another section of the gallery, your breath catches–and your eyes lock.

Then...

“Dude, where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting for over an hour,” Yoongi grumbled while he stood in a quiet corner to make a call. He’d been at the bar waiting for his friend, Namjoon to show up. It’s been a stressful week for him at work and he wanted to unwind and have a few drinks.

“Sorry, Yoongi. I sort of…ran into someone and now we’re talking about heading to her place–”

“Her?” Yoongi repeated, “Wha–you already hooked up with some chick?”

“I mean, I don’t know how it will turn out yet, Yoongi,” he chuckled on the other line. “We’re just talking. But if you want, I can still meet you? It’s just going to take me a little while,” Namjoon sputtered.

Yoongi groaned, knowing full well that once Namjoon had been roped in, it would be like trying to pull him out of quicksand. “You know what bro–just…don’t worry about it,” he concedes.

“A-are you sure? I could still–”

“It’s cool, Namjoonie. We’ll link up next time. Have a good night.” He signs off as sincerely as possible before hanging up.

Yoongi huffed, downed the rest of his beer then trudged back over to the bar. He motions to the bartender, who moved closer so he could place another drink order.

“Can I get a scotch, three fingers, no ice?”

******

It’s nearly 10:30 at night and you and your friend, Hyejin were still feeling the club’s vibe. It was a long weekend and you were intent on making a casual hookup or two.

“Anyway…we decided that things weren’t working out,” Hyejin shrugs. “We’re good though.”

You eyed her suspiciously. “Oh sure,” you say sarcastically, “Is that why you’re still fucking him?”

She giggled, clearly not planning on denying it. “I mean, he’s a nice guy and we started out as fuck-buddies…” she trailed off.

You rolled your eyes. “You need to start setting better boundaries, girl,” you say before taking a sip of your drink.

She shrugged, “I’m just living life. You should try it sometime!”

After you snort at her comment, she nudges your arm, bobbing her head toward the bar’s direction. “He looks yummy,” she remarks. You turn your head and made a quick assessment of the lonely patron she was gesturing at.

To your surprise, he turns his head in your direction. You met his gaze for a brief moment before he hastily turned away.

“He’s hot but a little too broody-looking,” you say dismissively even though you felt a flutter in the pit of your belly.

“So? You know what they say about those quiet, broody types…” Hyejin leans into your ear and whispers, “They’re freaks in the sheets!”

Your eyebrows knitted comically at her. “Who the hell said that?”

She clicked her teeth. “Me, duh!” She threw her head back in laughter, the music drowning out her drunken cackles. “Go get him–or I will,” she threatens.

Just then, he glances in your direction once more. But he’s unnerved by you and Hyejin staring straight at him so he turns away and looks down at his phone screen instead.

“I think he looked at me,” Hyejin said.

“Shut up, he looked at me!”

“You said he was too broody–”

“That didn’t mean that I was disinterested,” you cocked a warning eyebrow at her..

She laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for?” She dared.

You started to back away from her and grinned. “Slow your roll, babe…I’m going!”

You turned away from her and walked up to your target, his shoulders hunched over while he scrolled through his phone and alternately took a sip of his drink.

You ordered yourself a cocktail even though you technically already had one that you conveniently left behind where you previously stood.

You parked yourself on the seat next to him, pretending to scroll through your own phone while you gather up the courage. You see him from your peripheral view sneaking more glances at you.

When the bartender brings you your drink, the hottie to your left speaks out.

“Put her drink on my tab.”

The bartender’s eyebrow quirked. He looked at you then back at him. He gave him a small smile, nodded in acknowledgment, and walked away. You took it as your cue to finally start a conversation.

“Thanks, that’s nice of you,” you said, swiveling your seat in his direction, crossing your leg over the other.

“You’re welcome.”

The bartender serves your drink. As you pick it up, you raised your glass toward him. “Geonbae.”

“Geonbae,” he says as he raised his glass to tap it against yours. 

After you both take a sip, you ask him straight away, “Are you here with anybody?” You were not wasting any more precious time.

“Well, I was waiting for a friend but he ditched me so I’m on my own tonight.”

“Oh no,” you feigned regret. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep you company for a bit? It’s the least I can do to thank you for this drink.”

Your boldness made him smile. “I’m Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. I’m YN.” He reached out for a handshake but you gave him a hug instead. It takes him by surprise but it’s a welcome one.

******

“So, you build furniture?”

“Yep. I design them and I build them,” he explains while you scroll through his company’s social media page.

“By yourself?”

He laughed. “Sometimes, if I can’t find reliable help,” he remarks, his laugh growing louder. “I mean, I do the designs by myself but I usually have a team who helps me with the production and assembly. I have my own workshop.”

“Wow,” you marveled and continued to scroll through his feed. “Your work is really good–and unique!”

“Thank you. I work with a lot of local suppliers–small businesses as well, like mine. It’s a great community,” he explains. “And by the way, your work looks great, too,” he says while he scrolls through your own social media feed.

“Oh, gosh–most of my moodboards are from random Pinterest concepts,” you respond.

“Ehh…I think you’re being too modest.” He zeroes in on a recent contract–one that you were really proud of. It was for a local restaurant chain that used to have a bland color palette and aesthetic until they hired you to liven it up for their first location expansion. Three locations later, they’ve been one of your most lucrative clients.

“You have a great eye,” he says before handing your phone back to you. You smile at his compliment while you return his phone.

“If you think my work is good, we should get together sometime.”

His eyebrow quirks at your remark, but he holds back his response thinking you might have misspoken. You smile at him and after taking a sip of your drink you say, “You know, I’m always looking into connecting with new vendors to partner with.”

He chuckled. “You think we can be partners?”

“Why not? I see a lot of potential for us. I work in design and you are a potential supplier...what’s the worst that can happen?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Our visions might not line up,” he responds with a hint of doubt.

You shrug. “Ever heard of compromising?”

He chuckled softly. “My work tends to come off too old-fashioned to some. It takes a different kind of audience.”

“So? Sometimes all it takes is a dash of old-fashioned,” you smile, raising your glass containing the same drink.

“Really?”

You lift a shoulder. “You need a little bitterness to balance the sweetness out.” You giggle at the cheesiness of that line.

“Point taken,” he says with a gummy smile, holding back his laughter.

******

The last thing you remember was Yoongi asking if you wanted to go to his place or yours–before everything went dark.

Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling. 

As you adjust to the brightness of the room, you instinctively reach over by the nightstand to retrieve your phone to check for the time. It was a quarter past 8AM…and you were home…alone, as it seems when your head whips around to see the other side empty.

What happened?

You slowly pad your way into your living room. Maybe he was just trying to be polite and crashed on the couch.

Except, he wasn’t.

Did he just drop you off and leave? You clutch at your throbbing forehead. I’m getting too old for this shit, you thought to yourself. Still, you were worried about what happened to Yoongi.

You pull his number from your phone–at least, you think that you have his number.

“Aha,” you gasped when you find his name in your contacts list.

You realized it might still be too early but you thought you could just give him a call and leave him a voicemail just to make sure that he got home safely.

You open up your blinds to let get some more daylight in the room. By some twisted way, you found that it helped with your hangover.

While the other line trills, something catches your eye when you look out the window.

“Oh shit–” you say under your breath.

******

You approach his car and unsure whether to knock or let him be. He looked exhausted but you couldn’t just leave him out here.

You tapped your knuckles against the window and he immediately flinched.  He looks around, seemingly surprised at his surroundings until his eyes land on you.

You gesture to open his door. When he does, you ask him, “Good morning. Would you like to come in for some coffee?”

******

He declines at first but you managed to convince him to come in. After a few sips of coffee, he insisted on cooking you breakfast.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping yet and didn’t have much in your fridge except for some eggs and cheese. You had a couple of slices of bread in the pantry so he makes the most out of it. He is appreciative of the effort and continues to tell you that you didn’t need to go out of your way.

“So, do you always make breakfast for girls you pick up from the club?” You joke.

“Not really,” he laughs. “I also don’t fall asleep in my car after I’ve dropped them off.”

“You know you were welcome to sleep on the bed or the couch,” you say casually. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Nah, you were passed out and I didn’t want you to think that I was taking advantage of the situation or anything like that,” he reasons.

You smiled at how respectful and thoughtful he was. “I appreciate that. And…thank you for bringing me home.”

“You’re welcome.”

******

Days later...

“Bro, are you sure you can meet the deadline?”

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon, then scratched the back of his neck to think before he gave him an answer. He was feeling stressed with this client because they were fussy about the design. It took at least a dozen iterations of the collection before they finally approved it.

The deadline was fast approaching and Yoongi had fallen behind with the work. He’d have to pay his guys overtime and maybe even work on some of the pieces himself in the evenings to cover more ground.

“Tell them not to worry. Besides, when have I ever missed a delivery date for them?” Yoongi walks away and back into the workshop to check on how the other projects were progressing.

Namjoon nodded at Yoongi’s logic. No matter how stressful it got for him, Yoongi always managed to deliver the goods, and clients were satisfied each and every time. ”Alright, I’ll let them know.” He types a text to the client and sends Yoongi’s response.

After sending it off, he turns his attention back to Yoongi. “Hey, so–how’d you make out last weekend? Are we cool?”

The question seems to take Yoongi by surprise. “Huh? Why wouldn’t we be?” 

Namjoon laughed. “Bro, this is me apologizing for abandoning you for a girl.”

“Oh.” Yoongi suddenly recalls the events leading up to how the night ended. “Uhm–nah, we’re cool. Besides, I did just fine,” he adds casually.

His friend’s mouth spread into a Cheshire cat grin. “Oof–you hooked up, didn’t you?”

Yoongi’s face scrunched in confusion. “Naaww…”

His laughter boomed from his chest. “Bro, I know you’re lying! Lemme see! Is she on social media?”

Yoongi clicked his teeth and groaned. “It wasn’t even like that.”

“So you did meet someone!”

He sighed, exasperated with his friend’s teasing. “Fine, I did. But nothing happened! We just hung out and I took her home.”

Unconvinced, Namjoon’s voice rose a few octaves. ”Whaaatt? Wait–so this the first girl you’ve hooked up with since–”

Yoongi waved his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from finishing his thought. “For the last time–she and I did not hook up,” he clarifies firmly. “We just had a nice conversation over a few drinks. Then I drove her back to her place…where I made her breakfast.”

Namjoon doubles over in laughter. “And you’re telling me that nothing happened?”

“Swear to god! After giving me her address, she fell asleep on the way there and I just carried her in. I slept in my car.”

“Wow…” Namjoon breathes out. “Look at you being all chivalrous!”

Yoong snorted at the comment.

“So–are you gonna see her again or what?”

Before he could answer, Namjoon’s phone buzzed with a text from their client. He reads the message to Yoongi. “She asked if you can squeeze in a prototype for barstools?”

“Aish,” Yoongi says under his breath. “I mean…that technically wasn’t even…” he stops short. Instead of arguing, he drags out a sigh and relents. “You know what, fine. Tell her I’ll include it and bill her later.”

Namjoon types up Yoongi’s response, to which the client replies almost instantaneously. “Is he absolutely sure?” He read the text out loud, a wry look on his face.

Yoongi looked up at his friend and let out a grunt of annoyance. “Just fucking tell her ‘yes’.”

Namjoon nods and sends the response again. “I don’t know why I need to be your middleman here–”

“Well, you brokered this deal. And from the jump, they preferred to communicate this way, so…” he trailed off. After ensuring some quality control on his employee’s work, Yoongi walks back into his living space and flops himself onto the sofa. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Namjoon walks toward his friend and sits on the adjacent seat. “Is that really all there is to it?” His voice had a hint of concern and worry for his friend.

Yoongi turned his head and opened one eye to look at him.

“It’s been over a year. She’s moved on–”

“Clearly,” Yoongi deadpanned before closing his eye again.

Namjoon shifted uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. “Well…aren’t you back in the dating scene? Can’t we all be grownups here?”

He let out a deep sigh, then opened his eyes again to dig his phone out of his back pocket. He didn’t think Namjoon’s question required an answer so he just scrolls through his screen.

Talking about his past relationship was a sore subject…even for Yoongi, whom his other friends thought to be typically aloof about these kinds of things. But sometimes, whatever one showed on the outside actually ran much deeper on the inside.

Shrugging, Namjoon takes Yoongi’s reticence as his cue to leave.

When the door shuts, Yoongi pauses his scrolling through his social media feed as his vision lands on a particular post. Damn algorithms got him again. He clicks on the account’s page and follows it.

Next, he types up a message and then hits ‘send.’

******

After work, you head over to a pub close to your office. You offered to meet Yoongi halfway from wherever he was coming from but said that he was happy to head over closer to where you were at.

He was already at the bar when you walked in, looking more relaxed than when you first saw him over the weekend. You weren’t much for guys with long hair but something about his hair being pulled back in a half-up/half-down bun became a contributing factor that held your attention.

You greet him with a hug, which he reciprocates. He asks what you want to drink. You glance at his whisky and decide to order an old-fashioned.

“You know, when you texted me this afternoon, I was a little surprised.”

“And why’s that?” He asks you.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you thought our night ended kind of weird.” You sat on the stool next to him, your legs crossed in his direction while you turned your glass on the bar’s surface with your fingers.

He laughed. “I’ll admit, I don't remember having a night like that…ever, I think?” Your eyes drift to his fingers that dance over the rim of his glass of whisky. 

“Is that because you always score?”

He caught his lower lip with his teeth and inhaled. “I’ll tell you right now, if my best friend were here, he’d already fallen off his chair laughing.”

His comment made your eyebrows lift in surprise. You both took sips of your drinks. After you swallow, you ask, “On that note, how many serious relationships have you had?”

He nearly chokes on his drink, laughing awkwardly. “Oh, we’re at that level of comfort now?”

You lifted a shoulder. “Seemed like the conversation was headed there anyway. Might as well get there sooner!”

He laughs, then pauses to consider his answer. “I’ve had one.”

“One? That’s it?” You were incredulous. You found him attractive–and not in a novel way. He spoke calmly and even sagely at times. A good conversation these days was rare and often overlooked or easily forgotten. But he was someone you enjoyed talking to...and someone you hadn’t been able to get out of your mind in the last few days.

“Yeah. Just the one,” he replies. 

“Wow…”

“Yep. We were going to get married and everything. But,” he let out a sharp breath, “She changed her mind.” He sighed, picked up his glass, and swirled the liquid in it. “She broke it off the day before…told me she couldn’t go through with it.” 

You watched him throw his head back and polish off the rest of his drink. Your heart hurts for him and you didn’t have a smartass joke to say to lighten the mood.

“Anyway!” He sighed deeply, desperate for a subject change. “That was a long time ago. It’s all done and over with. She’s off doing her own thing, I’m doing mine. What about you? How many serious relationships have you been in?”

“Nine.”

His eyes widened. “Nine? Those were all serious?” He asks carefully.

“Yes,” you say confidently. “Why is that hard for you to believe?”

He scoffed. “I mean…you don’t look that old and you’ve been in nine serious relationships?”

“What does my age have to do with it?” You laughed.

“Well…usually, relationships span years–”

“That’s what you think,” you countered. “You think that in order for a relationship to be considered serious is the amount of time you’ve been with that person. I mean, couldn’t it just be the depth of connection with that person?” 

That stopped him in his tracks. He let that thought sink in, then nodded gently. Meanwhile, you’re watching his facial expressions–the wheels turning in his head.

“I can still feel you silently judging me,” you chuckle.

“I’m not,” he says simply. “I’m certainly in no place to judge. You’re an adult, free to make your own choices. Besides, we’ve only just met.”

You smiled. “Fair point.”

“Although…I’m curious, if you don’t mind me asking.”

You shook your head and prompted him to continue.

“Out of all of those relationships, which one was your worst heartbreak?”

“Damn!” You laughed. “And here you are questioning whether we’ve known each other long enough to discuss these things?”

You both laugh at the thought. When you calm down, he says, “Touché. I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s fine, I’ll answer.” You downed the rest of your drink and turned your attention back to him. “The one that really did a number on me was my last relationship. We were together for about six months…” You paused to clear your throat, “until I found out that he was married.”

“Married? So you were someone’s mistress?”

“Unknowingly!” You contest. “Besides, I ended it as soon as I found out. I didn’t want to get tangled up in all that.” You winced at the memory. Not your finest moment but since then, you tried to be more vigilant about red flags.

“Well, like I said–it’s all in the past, right? The point is, we both got our hearts broken. End of story.”

You nodded in agreement before he switches gears. “Don’t you ever get scared?”

“Scared of what?”

“Repeating the whole process. You know, as someone who’s been in all of these relationships…don’t you ever get tired of starting from scratch every time? The whole getting to know each other, falling in love…then being faced with the possibility of things not working out.”

“I wonder about people who are afraid to put themselves out there again after getting hurt by love. I really don’t get that,” you say in jest.

He shrugs. “Who likes getting hurt? That’s not something rational people consciously wish for themselves.”

You sighed wistfully at the thought. “You know, I never understood why some people think of it that way. You know, trying to rationalize falling in love. Isn’t that counterintuitive? Love in itself is all about being spontaneous, irrational…reckless, even. The feeling of being completely wrapped up in the emotion and the moment–all because of one person. That includes all the fear, uncertainties…even the possibility of getting hurt. The experience of love isn’t complete without all that.”

He chuckled with his gummy grin. “Sounds like a huge gamble to me.”

“But if you never take that gamble, how will you ever experience the joy of winning big? How would you ever know what your heart is capable of taking if you’re always afraid of losing?”

He eyed you for a few seconds, letting your words sink in. “So you’re telling me that you’re willing to go through what could possibly be twice the amount of hurt–just to fall in love again?”

“Absolutely!” You declared with confidence.

You took another sip of your drink, then looked him straight in the eye. “I mean…you’re not thinking of hurting me, are you?” You ask him cheekily.

His eyebrow quirked in response. “Y-you’re asking me?” He chuckled nervously.

“Calm down! It’s just a rhetorical question,” you giggled.

You both laugh it off. Afterward, he pursed his lips and eyed you again. “But just so we’re clear…I don’t plan on it.”

His answer made your heart skip. You didn’t have any smart-ass quips to lob back at him.

After what seems to be an eternity of staring at each other in tense silence, he asks, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

******

He showed you around his modest place, where he had a full and, judging by the fresh sawdust on the tables, actively functional workshop. It was attached to a one-bedroom living space with a kitchen, a cozy living room, and a full bathroom. But by your assessment, it looked more like the living space was attached to the workshop.

“You sleep where you work?” You ask while looking at the work surface next to you.

He notices you looking at it so he leans over to swipe the sawdust off the table. “I didn’t see the point of going back and forth between places.”

“Yeah but it must be hard to live where you work and work where you live?”

He chuckles. “On the contrary, it’s more convenient for me. When I’m tired, I just lay on the couch. If I have trouble sleeping, I just come over here and tinker with stuff.”

You eyed him silently as he stood over the table, his hands spread wide while he supported his weight on them.

“I don’t know if I can do that. I need clear boundaries.”

“Don’t you bring work home from time to time?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes, if I’m on a tight schedule. But I try not to do it if I can help it. I prefer the idea of drawing that line where, once I walk out that door, that’s it. I’ll come back to it in the morning. Once I’m off work, I’m off work.”

He hummed. “That’s fair.”

You carefully move a small container of wood stain to the side then hop up on the table. After giving his studio another once-over, you turn your attention to him.

“What are you currently working on?”

He seems hesitant at first but decides to share a little bit. “I’m…trying to create a prototype for this light fixture,” he says vaguely.

“Really? Can I see?”

He chuckles, then paused to check if you were actually serious about looking at his designs. When your expression remained unchanged, he decides to reach past you to pull his sketchbook toward him. He flips through a few pages until he lands on a specific one.

The page has a rough sketch of a multi-tiered looking chandelier with what looked like wooden fringes, instead of what would typically be glass or crystal.

“So, I’m trying to focus on more natural materials like rattan, bamboo…I don’t know, maybe my friend, Namjoon, has been hanging around my studio too much,” he says in jest.

Your fingers brush the pencil lines on the page. His ideas were beautiful. They were modern yet had an old-world feel to them. His pieces didn’t look like something that was mass-produced. Each one had its own personality but all of them were crafted with artisanal care.

“You think you could work with these?” He asks quietly, his face an inch away from you.

“Oh, definitely,” you smiled. “My mind’s already buzzing with ideas.”

He looks down from your eyes to your mouth…then back up to your eyes again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper then take in his scent. “You smell nice. What is that?”

“Uhm, I don’t know…pine?” He answers before you close the gap between you to kiss him. You taste faint traces of whisky and citrus flavors in his mouth. His lips were soft and melded into yours, making you sigh into him. His kiss was as calm and gentle as his usual demeanor.

He presses his body closer to yours, making you tilt backward on the work table, spilling the can of wood stain on you. You gasp, startled at the feel of it on the side of your leg, and hastily hop off the surface.

“Fuck…I’m so sorry,” he says.

“I-it’s okay,” you stammer, grabbing onto your dress to assess the damage.

“No, it’s not. I ruined your dress.”

“Yoongi, it’s okay,” you say nonchalantly. “I can take it to the cleaners…” You inspect the stain while he goes to grab a paper towel. Who were you kidding? This was varnish. The dress itself was cheap but it was beyond salvageable.

You looked up to see him hovering over you. “Or we could just take it off?” 

With his breath fanning your face, you fist at his shirt and pull him into you again. This time, his lips didn’t feel tentative–they were more ardent…hungrier. He lifts you off the worktable and you both stagger out of the workshop and toward his living space. The closest comfortable surface was couch so he lowers you both there. 

You reach back to lower the zipper of your dress while he pulls his shirt off. When he tosses it to the side, helps you undress the rest of the way through.

His fingers laced around the back of your neck urging you closer to him. He moved from your mouth down to your neck, gently sucking the skin on your collarbone.

You felt a gush of moisture soak through you…you let go of every ounce of control that you hung onto because were desperate for him now.

With one swift move, he unclasps your bra and moves his mouth to your chest while he lowered you further until your head hit the armrest.

Your breath hitches as he wraps his plush lips around an aching nipple. You swore right then that you’d orgasm from the feeling alone…but he was just getting started.

You reach between both of you and undo the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them down.

He hooks his fingers onto your panties and you arch your back so he can slide them off. You were completely bare for him now, hypnotized by his desire for you at this moment.

You kept your eyes at him, unable to look away as pulls your legs apart and gave your inner thighs gentle kisses. He locked eyes with you and kept contact while you watched him sink his mouth onto your cleft.

You sucked in a harsh breath while he tongued you. You felt every lick and every suction of his mouth onto your moist, swollen lips.

Your walls clenched achingly at nothing while he continued to eat you out. Your breath began to stutter as you shamelessly bucked your hips against his mouth, desperate for a release.

You felt him dip two fingers into you…pulling them in and out lazily while his tongue fluttered over your clit.

Your body bowed when he alternated licking and sucking at your clit. It wasn’t long before your orgasm built up to a fever pitch. Your throat tightened, desperately trying to suck in air while your body tensed.

“Aaahh…gonna cum–fuck…”

You cried out hoarsely further as he got his last two licks in before you came down from your high. You were about to pass out from the pleasure when you saw him fish out a foil packet from his wallet.

You sat yourself up, meeting him halfway as he lined himself up between your thighs. You kissed him senselessly, your tongue fighting his for control.

Your mouth stilled as you felt him slowly enter you. You sucked in another breath while you felt that delicious stretch.

He urged you to lay back down while he pushed the rest of his length into you.

“Fuh…,” was all you managed to breathe out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head as shivers coursed through your body.

You looked back at him, a pained look on his face from how tight you were for him. You gave him a small nod of assurance to let him know that you were okay.

He started to move his hips slowly until he found a consistent rhythm.

He lowered himself further against your body and wrapped your leg around his waist. He thrusted in and out of you at a steady pace while your core tightened further around him along with another orgasm building up.

“Fuck, YN…feel so good,” he choked out in between breaths. He sealed his mouth onto yours, moaning in pleasure.

Your nails raked his back–from his shoulders and down to his hips that relentlessly railed into you.

“Fuck, don’t stop…don’t stop…” you gasped as you felt yourself edge closer to another orgasm.

Your muscles clenched around his cock while he repeatedly hit you deep into your core. You buck your hips into him, meeting him at every thrust while you both moan into each other’s mouths.

The next thing you knew, he had tipped you over the edge again.

His palms cup your ass, raising your hips to him. A few more thrusts and he was arching his back, pressing his forehead to yours as his own climax coursed through him.

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee, that he brought to you, bedside. 

******

After that night, you spent many more going back and forth between his place and yours.

You went about both your days but talked all the time. You always made time to see each other–he’d work around your schedule and you’d work around his. Things were going so well and stress-free.

You didn’t feel the need to change the way you were around him and neither did he. Everything just came naturally to both of you.

Some days, you were unaware of how much time you spent together. Some weekends, you would just laze around and never leave the room. It was bliss.

“Jagiii!” You yell out from his bedroom, hoping he’d hear from the loud, grinding noise of his industrial sander.

He turns the machine off, flips his visor up, and pulls his earplugs out. “Yeah?” he bellowed from his workshop.

“Could I just have five minutes for a phone call?”

He gestures to his workshop assistant, telling him that he can take a break. “Alright, we’ll take five!” he says. 

“You’re the best! Love you!”

“You owe me,” he teases.

“Just put in on my tab, jagiya,” you tease back.

******

Weeks later, you finally signed a lease for your new condo. Yoongi was on hand to help you move and get settled. You’d gone back and forth your old place to pick up smaller things that you didn’t load up in the big truck. The most important things were your larger furniture anyway.

Yoongi was tinkering with the internet connection in the second bedroom while you stood quietly in the midst of the expansive space, surrounded by boxes. It was getting dark out but you hadn’t installed your blinds yet so the moonlight illuminated the room. You stared out the window and into the glittering city lights. 

“Why are you standing out here in the dark?” Yoongi flicks the light switch on.

“No, no–turn it back off.” He does so tentatively. “Is everything okay?” He approaches you carefully from behind, wrapping his arms around you. You lean your head back against him and sighed. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. Just…trying to take it all in as everything calms down again.”

“Are you tired?” He nuzzled his nose into your hair.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod.

“Yeah, I can smell the dried sweat from your forehead,” he says before you poke him in his side, making him laugh out loud.

“I’m kidding,” he smiles, grabbing onto your waist and turning you around to face him. “Are you happy?”

“I am.” You plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Thank you for helping me today.”

“Of course. Even if you didn’t ask me to, I still would have done it.”

“I know but this is a huge deal for me. After all these years of hard work, I’m finally upgrading my home.”

“That’s great. I’m very proud of you for doing that. And you know,” he glances past your shoulder and jerks his chin at your windows. “I can totally make you some custom blinds, too. None of that plastic, vinyl shit. I can use bamboo so it’s cooling but also great for insulation. Very sustainable, too.”

You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. “Mmm…keep talking eco-friendly to me, Mr. Min…” 

“Well…” he brushes his lips against yours, “If you like that, wait ‘til you hear about the reclaimed wood we’re using for this new commission.”

You threw your head back and moaned. “Ooh…yes…keep going.”

Chuckling, he dipped his head and leaves a trail of kisses down your exposed throat. “Why don’t we take this back in the bedroom and I can show you what else we can do with some wood.”

You start cackling at his comment and before you know it, he picks you up off your feet and you stumble into your room and stayed there until the sun came up.

Now…

In a panic, Yoongi heads to one corner of the gallery to search for his friend. “Namjoonah!”

Namjoon’s head whips around to see Yoongi headed for him. He excuses himself from the current conversation he was having. “Hey, Yoongi–”

Immediately, Yoongi pulls Namjoon right by the bathrooms to scold him. “Bro, that’s not cool. I wish you told me that YN was going to be here.”

 “If I had told you, would you have come out tonight?”

Yoongi scoffed, “Of course, I still would have,” his voice went up a higher register, making Namjoon snicker. “I just…I wish you would have given me a warning so I could have been, I don’t know, better prepared!”

“Prepared for what? You guys have been broken up for years. Besides, you’ve always known that she and Hyejin are friends. You should have at least expected her to be here so I don’t know why you’re all bothered. Unless of course you not over her yet?”

Yoongi remains adamant. “Dude, of course, I’m over her! I just got caught off-guard, that’s all.” 

“Are you sure you’re not still thinking about her?”

“Fuck no! Are you kidding? You know I can’t stand her! She’s too loud, a terrible cook…not to mention that she has way too much drama in her life.”

Namjoon snorted. “And you didn’t?”

Yoongi shakes his head dismissively. “Whatever, dude–I’m just not all about that. My new motto in life is to stay drama-free, you know?”

He gives Yoongi a skeptical smile. Just then, the bathroom door opens behind them.

The color from Yoongi’s face drains as he gets the shock of his life when he sees you emerge.

You stood there smirking while Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged looks.

“Uh, sorry, guys–I think I need to use the bathroom.” Namjoon says, stifling a laugh while he cuts in between you two and shuts the door.

Yoongi remained standing in awkward silence, trying to will the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“I thought you liked it when I was loud for you?” With that, you walk past him and disappear into the crowd.

Then…

“I can’t hear you, baby…come on…let me hear how good I make you feel.”

“Ahhh…f-fuck…” You cried out loudly, body stiffening, with your fingers grasping Yoongi’s hair at the roots while his tongue teases the last pulses of your orgasm.

“There you go…good girl.”

You and Yoongi were planning to have a quiet night in but Hyejin invites you out at the last minute, saying that you haven’t had a proper girls’ night in a while. Thinking about it now, it’s been over a month since you met up with her. Most of your nights were preoccupied with Yoongi these days.

When Yoongi couldn’t convince you to stay in, he asked if you needed a ride there and you decline, saying that Hyejin offered to pick you up.

When you stepped out of the room and he sees you in your outfit, a dark cloud overcomes him. He grabs you by the waist, lifts you onto the kitchen counter, and moving your panties aside, dives right in.

He helps you off the counter and you smooth your dress. You glance downwards and see the bulge in his pants.

“Hey, let me take care of that.” You reach out to cup him but he catches your hand and lifts it up to his lips to kiss it.

You’re suddenly torn between walking out the door and wanting to stay to suck him off…deep. The latter option sounded more appealing as you felt your mouth water at the thought of him fucking your mouth. 

He pulls you in close and presses his hard-on against you. You let out a small whine of protest. His tongue grazed his lower lip before sinking his teeth into it.

He tutted. “Come home to me later and I’ll give you what you want.” His voice made it sound like a warning…a warning that you were tempted to ignore just to find out what he would do to you for ignoring it. The idea excited you so much that you felt heat pooling between your legs again.

“Are you sure? I still have a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Hyejin,” you smile sweetly, your lips brushing against his jawline.

“I’m sure. Now go before I change my mind,” he says in jest.

“Okay,” you acquiesce.

Right before you walk away, he takes your mouth and kisses you hard. You couldn’t help but lick traces of your arousal from his lips.

When he pulls away, you are breathless and weak in the knees–more so after that orgasm that he gave you minutes ago.

******

You hadn’t noticed that Hyejin stopped mid-sentence to eye you as you giggled at your phone screen while you exchanged spicy texts with Yoongi. You finally look up and meet her gaze.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’,” she says in a mocking tone. “I’ve been blabbing up a storm here and you’re all heart-eyes, drooling over your phone there.” She tilts her chin up to get a look at your text screen and you immediately pull it close to your chest.

She scoffed then laughed. “Oh my gooood…you are so whipped for him!”

You roll your eyes at her. “I am not!” 

She laughed even louder at your response. “Oh come on, YN! How long have we been friends? I can tell whether you’re just feeling a buzz between your legs or if you’re really into someone. And right now, I know that you are so down bad for him,” she declares.

You feel your cheeks ignite. It wasn’t because of the alcohol but because you knew she was right.

You sighed in defeat. “Okay, fine! So we’re a little obsessed with each other, big deal.”

You started to gush over your relationship. “I just love how much he cares. He checks in, asking whether I’ve eaten yet. He cooks for me…then, he tells me when he misses me. It’s nice. It feels nice to feel needed, you know?”

Hyejin nods. “Well, that’s all because you guys are still in that honeymoon phase!”

You scoff, dipping your fingers into your glass and flicking droplets of cold water at her. “Bitch! You’re so negative!”

She throws her head back in laughter. “I’m kidding, babe! You know me. Seriously, I’m happy for you. Now…” she cleared her throat. “Does he have a single hot friend that you know of?”

******

The following weekend, you convince Yoongi to come with you on a walking tour of a museum exhibiting gothic renaissance art. You were looking for some inspiration for your next project. You saw an ad online and decided it couldn't hurt to go exploring for a bit. It was also a nice excuse to pull him away from his workshop.

“Uhh…” Yoongi croaks tentatively. “I don’t know exactly what it is we’re looking at,” he laughs while cocking his head from one side to the other, trying to decipher the exhibit in front of you.

“Neither do I, jagi,” you giggled, glancing at the museum brochure. “I don’t know, I’m just trying to get some inspiration for this restaurant revamp. They currently have this old western theme…which is strange because they serve pizza and pasta.”

Yoongi laughs. “That concept doesn’t even make sense!”

“I know! But the owner’s daughter is a bit more modern and she’s totally up for a theme change.” You’ve talked to Yoongi about this new contract for weeks now and it’s finally happening. He was excited to bounce ideas off you to the point where you pulled him in as a supplier for the rebrand.

Even though the daughter was pushing for a more modern twist, her father, the restaurant’s current owner, wants to keep some traces of that classic feel to it.

“So, no saloon doors?” Yoongi says sarcastically.

You threw your head back in laughter. “Definitely not! The daughter would fire me. I was thinking we can bring in your natural concepts with that wooden fringe chandelier sketch that you were working on.”

His hand linked with yours, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it, making you grin like a lovestruck teenage girl. “Sounds good to me.”

You walk out of the museum and stood on the sidewalk, intending to walk a block over to a theater, not to see a show but to look at the architecture. The theater had a classic art deco design that would come in handy for your moodboard. You convinced Yoongi to make it part of your chill date before heading back to your place for dinner.

As you approach the end of the block, you are nearly run over by a man pushing a stroller that rounded the corner.

“Hey, watch it,” Yoongi exclaims protectively.

“Oh, I’m sor–YN?”

You suck in a breath. “Soonyoung, h-hi.”

“Hey! Wow…it’s been a while. Uh…h-how’ve you been?” He asks.

“Uhm…g-good,” you stammer. “You?” Then your eyes flick nervously over to the stroller that had a sleeping baby in it. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” he smiled. “Uh–so–”

“Yeobo!”

You whip your head around to see a woman come out of the restaurant that you were standing in front of. She walked towards Soonyoung and the stroller.

“Hi,” she greets you and Yoongi, then turns to Soonyoung waiting for him to introduce her.

“This is my wife, Naeyeon. Yeobo, this is YN. She’s an old friend.” She smiles at you then her eyes shift to Yoongi.

Somehow, your brain lurches forward. “This is Yoongi,” you say to both of them while you stood across from them. “My boyfriend.”

“So great to meet you both!” She says with a warm smile.

“Anyway, we should go before we miss our reservation, Nae. It’s good to see you again, YN,” Soonyoung says in a hurry before he and his family walk around you and into the restaurant.

******

Since that awkward run-in with Soonyoung, Yoongi has been uncharacteristically short with you for the rest of the day.

When you get back to your place, he sets the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Afterward, he picks up the to-go bags that contained your dinner.

You watched him quietly lay out the containers on your dining table, along with the disposable utensils, setting place settings for you and him.

He sits down and pulls his chopsticks apart. “We should eat before the food gets cold,” he says without looking up at you.

You wordlessly take the seat adjacent to him. He immediately puts a dumpling on your plate before he serves himself.

He pauses as if remembering something. He rose from his chair and moved toward the kitchen.

“Do you want a beer?”

“Just water is fine,” you answer blandly while staring at the lone dumpling on your plate.

He returns to the table, setting a glass of water next to you, and immediately takes a long swig of his drink after he sits back down.

He grabs so more food and puts it on his plate, pausing to offer you some but you decline. All this time, he still hasn’t made eye contact with you.

Unable to withstand it anymore, you push your plate aside to finally ask, “Something the matter?”

He doesn’t answer and instead continues to chew his food quietly.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”

He swallowed his food only to say, “Not now, YN.” He takes another bite.

You pursed your lips and gently press him again. “Look, if we have a problem here, we need to talk about it. We’re both adults here–”

“YN, I said, not now,” he says more sternly. Catching himself, he leans against the back of the chair, throwing his head back and rubbing his eyes. He regrets snapping at you. With a heavy sigh, he finally meets your gaze. “I’m sorry I…” he hesitates but finally gives into that nagging feeling in him. “Was that him?”

You give a small nod. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “You should have introduced me as your boyfriend sooner!”

You scrunch your face in surprise. “Why does the timing even matter? The point was that I introduced you, right?”

His voice grew louder. “If you introduced me sooner, he'd take it as a sign not to make stupid small-talk or-or...even think about trying to start shit with you again!”

“Geez, Yoongi. Why would you even think like that? Clearly, the man was right there with his wife and kid. It was a short, very random run-in that will probably never happen again.” You maintained a calm tone.

“That’s what you think.”

“Excuse me?” You started to grow irate at how unreasonable he was starting to sound. “Yoongi–I’m with you, not him. I love you, not him. I don’t understand why we’re making a huge deal out of this!”

He stood there silently, his hands on his waist, nostrils flaring with every breath he took. The seconds tick by and before you try to reason with him, he huffs and walks into the bedroom, the door slamming.

*****

After you store the takeout containers in the fridge, you enter the bedroom to find him lying on the bed with his back toward you. He doesn’t turn to face you or say anything so instead, you shower and get changed. When you get under the covers, you turn on your side so you faced the opposite direction.

A few minutes of silence and staring at your nightstand, you hear him let out a deep sigh before speaking. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did earlier.”

His apology pinches your chest but you keep your back toward him. “You know, just because I hooked up with a married man before doesn’t mean that I’m itching to do it again. So I froze when I saw Soonyoung, but that’s only because I hadn’t seen him since I broke it off and to add to that, his wife was right there. What did you expect me to do?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got jealous and–I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”

It was then that you rolled over to face him.

“Look…I made a stupid mistake a while ago but as soon as I was aware of it, I walked away and I grew from that. I thought that my being completely honest with you from the very beginning was a way to build trust between us…and that I had nothing to hide. But…” Your voice started to waver, “If you’re only going to use that against me, then I don’t think–”

“No, no–” He engulfs you in his arms immediately. As the warmth emanating from his body coursed through you, you couldn’t help but cry into his chest.

“Aw, baby…I’m sorry. I love you. I won’t question that again. And I do appreciate your honesty.”

You lifted your head and tilted your chin up to him. “I love you, too, Yoongi.” 

There was nothing you could do to change the past but as he rocked you to sleep, you wondered if you were right to be open and honest with him from the beginning …or was it a careless mistake? Should you have put your best foot forward first and pretended to be perfect instead?

At your age, you learned that being up-front with your relationship expectations prevented less hurt if things went south. If either party decides that any of those expectations was a dealbreaker, you moved on, and no harm was done.

You only hoped that Yoongi felt the same.

Tags: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @yoongukie-ff @deepseavibez @miksancheese @shesoldbutcute @yu-justme @joonschocochip

Part 2 ◥ | Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Posted this on Wattpad and AO3 a couple days ago and thought I'd share it with Tumblr as well! :3

Wachowski Family one-shots - "Going Shopping"

"Mother." Knuckles tugged on Maddie's arm, pulling her attention away from the book she'd been reading on the couch. "We have run out of grapes."

"Oh?" Maddie sat up a little, closing her book and flashing the echidna a quick smile. "Sounds like we need to hit the grocery store, then. I think we need more cereal, too."

"What has the store of groceries done to deserve our hitting it?" Knuckles demanded as she stood up and headed into the kitchen to find Tom and their other two boys.

"Figure of speech, hon." Maddie reached down and gently squeezed his shoulder. She glanced up again as she approached the kitchen and called through the doorway, "Hey, babe?"

She heard him call back, "What?" in something of a distracted tone, and walked in to find him rummaging through the cupboard, apparently searching for something. Sonic was sitting at the counter nearby, talking his ear off about his most recent baseball practice.

Tom looked over at her as she walked in, then immediately looked back at the cupboard. "I think we're running low on coffee. I can't find another bag."

"That works out, actually," Maddie replied with a grin, and he glanced back to her with a raised eyebrow. "I've been informed we're also out of grapes—" she flashed Knuckles a knowing smile— "and I know we definitely need more cereal. We up for a shopping trip? Or is it too close to dinner?"

Tom glanced at the oven clock, which read 4:02. "Nah, I think we can make it. Shouldn't take too long to just grab a couple things and go."

Sonic jumped off the stool he'd been perched on and was at Maddie's feet in an instant. He'd done this so many times now, Maddie no longer jumped when it happened. It was . . . a new normal, and one she didn't mind one bit.

"Can we pleeease get some more chili, too?" he pleaded, eyes sparkling. "Oh— and pizza! And guac?! Please please please please please!"

Maddie rolled her eyes with a laugh. "We'll see, sweetheart. For now, we're just gonna get what we actually need."

"Tails?" Tom called to the living room, startling the little fox from his fixation on the mini helicopter toy he'd been tinkering with. "We're all heading out. Make sure you put your stuff away where it's not going to get broken."

"Coming!" Tails scooped up his things and flew them upstairs to the attic, then flew back down a moment later to grab his shoes from one of the cubbies by the door (a more recent addition). Sonic had already put his shoes on, as had Knuckles.

As Tom locked the house up, the boys and Maddie headed for the car, with the trio making it a race of who could get there first. From what she could see, Sonic had definitely won, but then Tails protested something about they were supposed to touch the car door handle, not just the car, and Knuckles was demanding a rematch. With an amused smile, Maddie pressed the button on the key fob to unlock it so they could get inside.

By the time she and Tom had climbed into the drivers and passengers seats, Knuckles, Sonic, and Tails were all in their seats and buckled— Tails had to ride in a booster seat still, but he had no trouble buckling himself in. Occasionally he had trouble with unbuckling, but that was usually when he was rushing.

"Do you have, like, an actual shopping list?" Tom asked as he pulled out of their long driveway and started the five minute drive to the nearest grocery store.

"I'm pretty sure it's just those three things I mentioned." Maddie stole a glance in the rear view mirror to see their boys. Tails was fidgeting with something Sonic had left in the car from the other day, half listening to whatever Sonic was telling Knuckles. Or . . . telling himself. Knuckles was staring out the window.

It was hard to tell who Sonic was talking to at times. A lot of the time he just babbled to himself nonstop; a side effect still lingering from his prolonged isolation before he'd properly met her and Tom. It didn't seem to be harmful, so they hadn't made any attempt to stop it, but it did make them sad sometimes when they remembered the reason.

Maddie shook away those thoughts. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Sonic— and the others— were okay now. She and Tom would love on them and be the parents all three of them had so desperately needed. They couldn't do much to repair the hurts in their lives from their pasts, besides try and make up for it now.

"That's good, then." Her husband's relaxed voice pulled her attention back to him. "With luck, this shouldn't take more than maybe twenty minutes."

In hindsight, they really should've known better.

Because honestly, even having the fastest kid alive, a child genius, and a warrior teen as their children, nothing ever got done fast.

It didn't help that the store they ended up at wasn't exclusively groceries. The second Tails saw the appliance and technology section, he was begging both parents to let him go have a look. And with the fox kit's big blue eyes, it was still difficult for Tom or Maddie to refuse.

(They knew they had to learn eventually. They'd never get anywhere with parenting this kid if he managed to get his way anytime he weaponized his own cuteness.)

Sonic had announced that he would find everything they needed in less than thirty seconds, but thirty seconds had long come and gone because every interesting thing on the way kept distracting him. It wasn't like he (or the other two) hadn't been to a store before, but for Tails and Knuckles, living on earth in a real family was still a new experience, and they spent most of their time treasuring every new thing they saw and felt. For Sonic, even though he'd now been living with Tom & Maddie for over a year, it still didn't feel long in comparison to the ten years he'd spent alone, watching the world from the hidden sidelines. Thus, to this day, he continued to relish every second he got to spend out in the open with no fear of being seen.

Knuckles was the only one who wasn't immediately drawn to go check out every new thing. Instead, he walked stubbornly by Maddie's side like a bodyguard (Tom had noticed he'd taken a special liking to her, as she had to him). Despite not joining his brothers, though, he still eyed them and his surroundings with a curious gaze.

Even though the presence of the otherworldly anthropomorphic children was not new to the citizens of Green Hills, neither Tom nor Maddie felt comfortable with the idea of letting one of them go off on their own. So, unable to resist the baby eyes, Tom ended up tagging along with Tails to the technology section.

Which was how Maddie found herself standing in the middle of the coffee and tea aisle with her entire family gone except for her eldest.

Knuckles peered up at her. "Would you like me to track down Sonic to ease your mind?"

"It's okay, hon." She smiled, trying not to betray the way her heart just melted at the kindness and consideration of the young echidna. "I can just call his phone real quick."

"I could call louder with my voice," Knuckles offered, but Maddie politely declined the suggestion and dialed her middle child's number.

"Hey, Mom, wassup?" Sonic's energetic voice picked up almost immediately. "You'll never believe what I found; remember that action movie series we watched a few months ago? They made a SIXTH one! Crazy, right?! Also I found a mess on the floor but I'm not sure if I should clean it up or not—"

"No, baby, don't—"

"Where are you, anyway? Oh! I was supposed to be finding the stuff we needed! What was it, again? Soup? No, cereal! Well, can cereal be a soup? Like a cold one that's sweet? Nah, that sounds like a dessert. Anyway, I'm coming!"

Maddie blinked several times at her son's rapidfire voice, and the next thing she knew, he'd already hung up.

Knuckles scowled. "He did not listen."

She shrugged with a little, knowing smile. "Your brother just isn't the best conversationalist. I think we know why."

The echidna's violet eyes softened, just for a moment. Then determination hardened them again. "I will find and bring him to you!"

"Wait, he did say he was coming—"

Maddie broke off at suddenly recognizing the voice hollering through the entire store: "MARCO!!!"

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, no—"

Then, a higher pitched voice: "POLO!!!"

A hyper giggle echoed from the direction of Sonic's voice, then he called "MARCO!" again.

Tails once again responded with an eager "POLO!" And thus their game went on.

Not sure whether to be humiliated or amused, Maddie chose to go find what they needed. She'd just grabbed the last thing when Sonic materialized at her side, giggling like a maniac, with Tails slumped over the hedgehog's head wearing an equally delirious smile of pure joy.

Tom was frantically running to catch up with them from further down the store, his eyes wide. "Not my idea," he panted as he arrived, and Maddie laughed.

"I knew that would work!" Sonic wheezed as he tilted his head and dumped Tails onto the tile floor. "Waaaayyy more effective than phones!"

Maddie narrowed her eyes, still internally battling as to whether this was acceptable behavior or not. "What, was this previously orchestrated?"

"No, no, no!" both Tails and Sonic fumbled over each other's words as they protested. Tails fell silent and nodded eagerly as Sonic quickly explained, "One of my teammates taught me that game at practice a couple nights ago! He said it was normally something that people play in pools, but his family sometimes uses it to find each other in places!" He trailed off, apparently uncertain as to whether he was in trouble or not, then quickly asked, "That's okay, right?" with just the slightest tinge of anxiety lacing his tone.

All thoughts of punishment had left Maddie's mind as he'd explained, and as she met Tom's gaze, it seemed he felt the same.

Having a family was still so exciting for Sonic. Hearing that he was trying out things with them that he'd heard other families did for fun . . . Well, something about that was just so touching.

So they didn't get back home till 6, and it wasn't a big deal. So their dinner was late and not as fresh as they'd been hoping. So what?

It didn't matter that things weren't perfectly orchestrated anymore. They'd done what they needed to do, their kids had had fun, no one had gotten hurt, and as far as they were concerned, the evening went just fine.

AO3 version

Wattpad version

[insertlovelyperson]

What do you think each Quarry counselor's favourite genre of music would be?

Emma - It’d be a mix of pop, female rappers, and show tunes. When you hit shuffle on her playlist, you never know exactly what you’re gonna get. One of the billboard top 100? Perhaps. The main theme to Interstellar composed by Hans Zimmer? Also very likely.

Nick - “Relaxing Sleep Music, Calm Music, Yoga, Sleep Meditation, Spa, Study Music, Rain Sounds”  as found on YouTube (8 hours long)

Jacob - He’d claim to be a fan of rock music, but then he’d show you his playlist, and it’s all just swag rock.

Kaitlyn - Is actually a fan of rock music. Kind of a ‘rock snob’ as she will only listen to the old bands—scoffs at Jacob’s playlist. I could see her getting pumped to some ACDC, Queen, and Grateful Dead as she gets ready each morning.

Abi - 80s hair metal. One of her parents would play their favorite bands for her growing up, and she just attributes it to some good memories (she thought her mom was going to leave her dad for Jon Bon Jovi and used to cry herself to sleep over it). But I think if you asked her, she’d  lie and say she listens to whatever’s on the radio.

Laura - This woman had an emo phase in middle school. I can FEEL it. I think she’d listen to a lot of alternative music, and a big chunk of her playlist would be all the greats she listened to back in the day (i.e. MCR, early FOB, P!ATD but only the albums Ryan Ross was there for).

Ryan - Like Laura, I think he’d be into some alternative bands, but lean more toward metal and punk (rather than pop-punk). Lana Del Rey would be his secret guilty pleasure. 

Dylan - He’d be into some experimental, indie music. He just looks like the kind of dude to be like, “You listen to music with words in it? Let me put you on to some new shit,” and then just plays you an album of poly-rhythmic synth-jazz where every song is fifteen minutes long, and you just kinda have to nod along so you don’t hurt his feelings.

Max - Country. Or more specifically, CUNTtry. Just a bunch of women singing about how they’re gonna murder their abusive, cheating husbands. It makes him feel powerful.

[wonderbutch]

genres and bands i listen to and how i got into them: an entirely too long useless list i made instead of sleeping

celtic punk

shoutout to the genre ever? i grew up listening to celtic punk literally since i was born. my dad sucks but his music taste does not. this genre is 32% responsible for my leftist punk attitude, which is ironic if you know anything about my father.

- the dropkick murphys: first band i can ever remember hearing. as a toddler i called them “the bastards”. still a favourite forever and everrr. their newish album “this machine still kills fascists” fucks HARD. the band will forever be a formative reminder of my working class upbringing in a miners family

- the rumjacks: late nights and early mornings in my dads car introduced me to this band. i really will tell me ma when i get home and i wont feel guilty about it

- paddy and the rats: one of the only celtic punk bands i actually discovered on my own. in 2018 i went on a sailing ship for a week and that got me rlly into celtic punk again LMAO. this band is so fucking good

emo/pop punk

i was 13 and tbh it was a phase but i still love listening to fob and mcr and sws

- my chemical romance: unironically i think i got into them through band memes

- fall out boy: literally just thru scrolling through youtube when i was 12

- [REDACTED]: [REDACTED]

- sleeping with sirens: this band shaped me as a person. kellin quinn the original gender envy. ohhh i miss this band sm

- all time low: a kid in my class in year 7 introduced me to all time low and ill remember him forever for it. hope youre well, jaiden.

- la dispute: got to see them live last year after @starcam413 got me into them! theyre kinda more screamo like sws but not in the same way as sws but definitely emo too

- set it off: this band is still SO GOOD. so fucking good oh my god. truly the fucking era

- the score: i was a greek mythology nerd as a kid (its my major now!) of course i listened to the score. i miss being 13 and listening to the score on youtube on my laptop at 3am so bad

folk punk

celtic punk and folk punk are very related, and i grew up listening to bands like the pogues and the violent femmes. is it really any wonder how i ended up Like This

- the violent femmes: as a child my dad would play country death song in the car. yes i am mentally ill and have daddy issues can you blame me????? (the song is literally about killing your daughter and then offing yourself)

- toby foster: really one of my proper introductions to the genre and what ultimately led me to discover bands like ajj and pat the bunny. found him on youtube through his song tennessee. i was 13 i think?

- pat the bunny: after toby foster i was completely hooked on the genre and of course ended up listening to the king himself, pat the bunny. your heart is a muscle the size of your fist is such a comfort song to me even now. it sucks he no longer makes music but im very happy he got sober!

- schmekel: im trans and punk of course i listen to schmekel. fantastic trans and jewish band that helped me a lot with my transness as a young teen

- mal blum: im counting his music as folk punkish, sue me. no idea how i got into them either. their song new years eve is the song i listen to on repeat every single new years eve, and i have yet to change this tradition. Help Me.

- the front bottoms: I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS. THEIR EARLIER ALBUMS ARE FOLK PUNK AS HELL. genuinely my favourite band ever. i can’t remember how i got into them but is how i ended up friends with @starcam413 (hi jon!)

- she/her/hers: sooo formative to me when i was 15/16 struggling with being trans.

- harley poe: ohh i love this guy so fucking much. why do i relate so much to a middle aged divorced man????

- days n daze: one of the most popular folk punk bands so i mean. Duh. sooo good i love them.

punk

- the sex pistols: listen. listen to me LISTEN TO ME. LISTEN. i dont even fucking like this band. in fact i despise it. but because my dad is an idiot, he loves this band and played it a lot when i was a kid.

- the queers: i think i heard them on a spotify playlist last year? big fan.

- the muslims: i believe this was recommended to me on reddit?? amazing black and brown queer band, i love it a lot

- tribe 8: im a lesbian with a complicated gender identity of course i listen to tribe 8. trans queer punk band that i listened to a lot when i was like 15 i think

- against me!: listened to them a lot when i was 15

new wave/post punk

got into this genre in 2022 and Hella into it late last year. blame paper girls brainrot.

- devo: got into them in 2022 thanks to an online friend hi ira 🌀 theyve never made a single bad song

- the cure: once again my dad showed me a lot of the cure when i was a kid and getting into music

- blondie: ….have you seen the batman and harley quinn movie….please dont make me say more. the first cassette in my collection is from this band!

- new order: one of my favourite bands right now. like most things for the last three years of my life, i got into this band because of a comic book. the tv adaption of paper girls features two new order songs and it got me absolutely hooked on this band.

rock/all that shit??

- danzig: once again you can blame paper girls for this

- bon jovi: also paper girls. i am obsessed with jon bon jovi’s hair in the 90s. gender envy as fuck

- queen: when i was 14 i found my grandpas mp3 player from the 2000s, he was a big fan of queen. i ended up putting all my music on the mp3 player and ive used it every single day since.

- billy joel: i was raised by my grandmother of course i listened to billy joel. played a lot on our old radio with my nans ipod when i was a kid. apparently my nan isnt even a big fan of him so i guess he was only formative to me lol????

indie

probably one of my most listened to genres just because. i have no reason. ive come to realise that most of my indie music taste is stolen from aura.

- girl in red: shoutout to discovering im a lesbian in 2017/2018 and to my best friend @vampoholica for introducing me to girl in red

- bastille: i love bastille sm icarus is such a good song and as a greek mythology kid i was so obsessed. bad blood youll always be famous to me

- mitski: oguhfhgh i dont know how i got into mitski but good lord. literally life changing.

- the smiths: fuck morrissey. i think this too was aura’s fault and i forgive them bc i love the smiths

- chloe moriondo: ahh the youtube ukulele era how i miss you

- alex g: i can’t remember how i got into alex g but i got into his music in 2022 and now im obsessed and unwell about him

- adrienne lenker: again this is aura’s fault and i am so fine with that. music sooo devastating it makes u wanna throw up and sleep forever

- elliott smith: i started listening to him because of simon vs the homo sapiens agenda

okay thats it thank u for reading this stupid post lol

[fcble]

FREEZE FRAME — A series of timestamps taking place over the first leg of Fable’s second world tour.

SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 2:49 PM KST — THE FABLE GROUP CHAT (SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA)

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17, 10:02 AM PDT — JOSHUA TREE NATIONAL PARK (JOSHUA TREE, CALIFORNIA)

“This is it?” Mingeun asks.

Byeonghwi is inclined to agree with him. They’ve been on the road for almost three hours, having left the comfort of their Los Angeles hotel early in the morning. If not for the sudden loss of buildings in the little town they passed through fifteen minutes ago, he’d swear they weren’t moving. 

“Isn’t it fun?” Andrew asks from the driver’s seat. 

Byeonghwi, stuck in the middle seat of the back row, leans over Haksu to look out the window. As far as he can tell, they came here to look at rocks, sand, some scraggly plants, some more rocks, and surprisingly, a lot of other people and cars. 

“It’s the great American outdoors,” Andrew continues, rolling down all four windows of their rental car. Haksu immediately rolls his back up. 

“It’s just rocks,” Mingeun says, raising his voice over the wind whipping through the windows. 

“And sand,” Byeonghwi adds.

In the passenger seat, Intak reaches toward the center console and skips the next song.

“I like that song,” Haksu complains.

“That’s the third ballad in a row,” Intak says. “It’s putting me to sleep.”

Mingeun fiddles with a small video camera. Byeonghwi wouldn’t put it past him to “accidentally” drop it out of the window. He wishes they could have a vacation without the cameras. He could go anywhere on his own, or with normal people who aren't celebrities, but his closest friends are the rest of Fable. The smallest saving grace is that this time, there's no camera crew. It's just the five of them—Andrew had insisted on driving and told Daewoong in no uncertain terms that he wasn't allowed to come and besides, they wouldn't all fit in the car—and Mingeun’s camera and Haksu's playlist and the great American outdoors.

“Let’s play a game,” Mingeun says, setting up the camera to point to the rather monotonous landscape. “I spy something beige.”

“Is it that rock?” Haksu asks, pointing out the window.

“It was that one that we just passed.” Mingeun points vaguely to the back of the car.

“This is fun,” Andrew repeats, though it seems like it's only fun to him. 

Byeonghwi starts to feel a little bad for him. When he heard they had an extra day of vacation in LA, he thought they might go to Disneyland. He’s always wanted to go to Disneyland. Then Daewoong and Andrew disappeared somewhere last night after their concert, and returned with a car. Byeonghwi woke up to Andrew’s alarm and a Toyota key fob on the nightstand.

“I think it’s fun,” he ventures. It isn’t the full truth, but it isn’t a lie either. It’s fun to spend time with the people he likes, even if they’re stuck in a car all day, because they can’t risk getting lost in the desert one stop into their world tour.

“Thanks, Hwi.” In the rearview mirror, Andrew’s expression is inscrutable behind his sunglasses. 

Intak skips the next two songs on Haksu’s playlist.

Haksu crosses his arms, elbow poking uncomfortably into Byeonghwi’s side. “I don’t understand why we’re listening to my music if you’re just going to skip every song.”

“Intak-hyung can’t have the aux. He’ll make us listen to SoundCloud rap,” Mingeun complains.

“Which is better than lofi beats to chill and fall asleep to,” Intak says.

Byeonghwi always finds it amusing that a group of singers can’t come to a consensus on music to listen to.

Andrew interrupts over both of them, launching into what Byeonghwi takes to be his best argument-defusing method of too many facts. “Did you know this park is around our ages? It was established in 1994.” He sounds like he memorized that from somewhere. “The national park system as a whole owes much of its success to President Teddy Roosevelt. He died for our sins. That’s why we put him on Mount Rushmore.”

“That was Jesus,” Haksu mutters.

But Byeonghwi sees the flash of Andrew’s grin in the mirror, and he knows he said that on purpose. His phone vibrates in his lap, and Byeonghwi unlocks it to see a new group chat consisting of himself, Mingeun, and Haksu. There’s only one message from Mingeun, which reads, if i act like this in canada, push me into the waterfall.

Got it 🫡, Haksu sends back, and Byeonghwi starts to think that maybe looking at a bunch of rocks might be better than Disneyland.

FRIDAY, APRIL 19, 8:29 AM CDT — CIVIL GOAT (AUSTIN, TEXAS)

Andrew probably doesn’t have to be working all the time. Technically, he’s working because Fable is on tour, but in the early hours of the morning, he has no obligations other than the ones he sets himself. He doesn't have to wake up early in the morning and drag Daewoong out to a coffee shop with him so he can do real work. He does it anyway.

His current project isn't anything related to Fable, but a simple review and some feedback for the debut mini album of Zenith Entertainment’s next idol group. Their main songwriter is a fresh-faced, barely twenty-year-old Korean American who asked Andrew for a Gmail address so he could share his music over Google Drive. Andrew felt practically geriatric next to him, like he should be checking into a retirement home soon. Apparently kids these days don't burn demo CDs, which works out for Andrew, because his laptop doesn't have a CD player.

He's just getting into the rhythm of his review of the proposed title track when his thoughts are interrupted by a girl standing much too close to his table, asking, “Can I have your autograph?”

He registers the question first, her WHEN TIGERS USED TO SMOKE: THE FIRST WORLD TOUR sweatshirt next, and her UT Austin lanyard third. A fan, then. “Of course.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Daewoong start to stand across the room. Andrew waves him back down into his chair.

She drops her bag into the seat across from him and rips a page out of a notebook.

Andrew closes his laptop and picks up her proffered gel pen. “What's your name?”

“Hanna. H-A-N-N-A.”

He signs a piece of college-ruled folder paper, scrawling out a simple “thank you for supporting Fable” message alongside his dusty stage name, Yejun, in messy cursive. 

Hanna beams anyway, tucking it away into a folder. “I'll frame it.” It doesn't sound like she's joking.

She busies herself with tucking away her new autograph, but she seems to be lingering, as if she's indecisive about something.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Andrew says, even though he knows he shouldn't. 

“You don't have to,” Hanna says quickly. “I don't want to bother you. I have to go to class.”

“You aren't bothering me.” Andrew lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell my manager. I'll put it on the company card.”

She smiles at that, and lets Andrew accompany her to the counter.

Andrew's phone buzzes as they wait. He picks it up long enough to read over half a warning message from Daewoong, before dismissing the notification. If Daewoong genuinely means it, he can walk over and demand Andrew leave. Until then, Andrew plans on ignoring him. It's ridiculous that he needs supervision.

Hanna clutches her latte with both hands. It doesn’t look like she’s going to drink it—probably because Andrew bought it for her.

“Thank you so much for the drink,” she says. She takes a deep breath. “I know you probably hear this a lot and it definitely sounds cheesy but I just wanted to tell you that your music has really inspired me. I'm learning how to play the piri because of you. It makes me feel like less of a fraud.”

That’s a feeling Andrew knows all too well. He wishes he wasn’t so intimately acquainted with it. He thinks he should have gotten over it by now, but he hasn’t. He imagines it’ll plague him for his entire life. But none of that is anything he can say in front of a fan, because he’s the idol, and he’s supposed to have his shit together. 

“I’m glad,” he says instead. Every follow-up line he can think of feels hollow and forced, like he memorized it from the playbook of Shit Idols Are Supposed to Say, which he did. “I'm glad I could be someone worth looking up to.” And someone I never thought I needed or wanted when I was younger, Andrew adds silently to himself.

The starstruck expression on Hanna’s face has yet to waver. “I'm really excited for your concert tonight.”

“I'll see you there,” he says, cheesy as it is, because he did read the playbook of Shit Idols Are Supposed to Say. Haksu would be proud.

He watches her pick up her backpack again, putting her drink down for the shortest few seconds. The coffee shop's door swings shut behind her.

And Andrew feels a little better, because it means he’s doing something right. He’s done some good in the world. Then Daewoong strides over to his table, and says, in what might be the coldest tone he’s ever heard, “We're leaving.”

Andrew is getting better at picking his battles, so he packs up his laptop without a complaint. Taein’s new group will have to wait.

MONDAY, APRIL 21, 1:23 AM EDT — THE FABLE GROUP CHAT (NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK)

MONDAY, APRIL 22, 12:49 PM EDT — HORSESHOE FALLS (NIAGARA FALLS, ONTARIO)

So far, Mingeun thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at keeping his cool. It’s easy, because he doesn’t have the same boundless enthusiasm for Canada that Andrew has for America. It looks like he won’t need Haksu to push him over the edge after all. It’d be difficult, anyway, because the guard rail is almost as tall as him, and he’d hit the rocks bordering the falls before the water.

He watches Andrew flip through a glossy pamphlet, oversized sunglasses covering most of his face. Mingeun can sense the way he’s going to share something he just learned, so he excuses himself, leaving Intak to suffer alone. He joins Byeonghwi and Haksu at the rail instead. Byeonghwi is taking everything in with the same wide-eyed innocence he had in every previous city. Haksu is trying to take a selfie without all the crowds in the background. He keeps repositioning himself, holding his phone up, posing, and then frowning at his screen. Mingeun watches him struggle a few times before he intervenes.

“Give me that, hyung,” he says, holding his hand out for Haksu’s phone.

Haksu gives it up without complaint. “You have to get my good side.”

Mingeun rolls his eyes. “Every side is your good side.”

“I know. I was making sure you knew it too.”

Mingeun stands back and makes sure part of his finger is over the camera lens in a few of the pictures. It won’t make Haksu any less cocky or more humble, but it amuses Mingeun. He hands the phone back to Haksu, watching closely for his reaction.

“For an idol, you’re really bad at taking pictures,” Haksu says. “What’s this?”

Mingeun peers over his shoulder at a picture of shapeless pink blob with the barest hint of the waterfall in the background. “You,” he says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

“That’s not what I look like!” Haksu squawks.

Mingeun takes a step back and pretends to consider him. “I don’t know. I see a resemblance. What do you think, Hwi?” He tugs at Byeonghwi’s shoulder and shoots him one of his characteristic death glares with the silent message to play along. Byeonghwi can be a bit of a killjoy sometimes, and that's not what Mingeun wants right now.

To his relief, Byeonghwi seems to get it. He shades Haksu's phone screen with his hand, looking intently at the picture. “I think Mingeun-hyung is right.”

Haksu pouts, sticking out his bottom lip so far it almost looks like he might cry. “You're both terrible.”

“I know,” Mingeun says, content with his antics. Haksu makes a good victim because he always bounces back. In a few hours, he'll recover perfectly fine and tweet the good pictures of himself. Mingeun doesn't doubt it.

THURSDAY, APRIL 25, 10:33 PM BST — HILTON LONDON BANKSIDE (LONDON, ENGLAND)

“We have a special guest with us tonight,” Mingeun says. He flips his phone around so that its screen is visible to their live broadcast camera. The remnants of their room service dinner peek into the bottom of the frame, phone and plates resting on the same hotel room desk, but Mingeun either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Byeonghwi pushes his plate out of view.

“Hello, everyone.” On screen, Eunsu waves with both hands. He’s silhouetted by what appears to be his bed, plain blue covers draping almost to the floor. Byeonghwi reaches over Mingeun and increases the phone’s volume. “It’s been a long time.”

Eunsu always says the same thing every time he’s in a setting like this. This time around, Byeonghwi has to admit it’s accurate. He can’t remember the last time they’ve done anything like this. Eunsu commenting on Mingeun’s Instagram posts doesn’t count. 

“If you don’t know me,” Eunsu says, “I used to be Fable's lead rapper. Now I'm a normal citizen and Mingeun's best friend.”

Byeonghwi doesn't think there are any other idol groups with such a public relationship with their former members. But Eunsu left on good terms, and he never wanted to leave, so Byeonghwi thinks they're different.

“What’s the topic for your live?” Eunsu asks.

Mingeun shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t pick one. You can decide.”

“One butt or two butts,” Eunsu suggests, but Mingeun dismisses him almost immediately.

“Old news. What about whether or not you should be able to sing if you want to be an idol?”

Byeonghwi shoots Mingeun a wide-eyed, worried glance. He resists the urge to turn around and check how Daewoong, sprawled out on a mountain of pillows on one of the king-sized beds, out of sight but within earshot, is reacting to Mingeun's proposal. It's more topical, sure, but he doesn't want to cause controversy.

“I’m joking,” Mingeun says. He doesn’t sound like he’s joking. “There isn’t anything to discuss.”

“Five Mingeuns or five-year-old Mingeun,” Eunsu proposes, changing the subject with the speed and alacrity of someone well-accustomed to Mingeun.

That’s an old debate too, but this time, Mingeun has a different complaint. “Why is it always me?”

“Haksu-hyung,” Byeonghwi suggests, and watches Mingeun’s expression light up.

“Let’s all answer at the same time,” Mingeun says. “One, two, three.”

“Five-year-old Haksu-hyung,” Byeonghwi says at the exact same time as Mingeun. Eunsu follows with the same answer a second later, delayed by the slight lag of FaceTime.

Byeonghwi could have predicted that. Five Haksus would be unbearable, and everyone else present knows that too.

“That’s what I thought,” Eunsu says, sounding almost sad. “Is there anyone you would pick five of? Present company, for me.”

“Andrew-hyung,” Byeonghwi answers next.

Of course Mingeun has to disagree with that too. “Five-year-old Andrew would have too much to say.”

“And five of him wouldn’t?” Eunsu asks.

“I wouldn’t mind five of Jaeseop-hyung. Or Intak-hyung,” Mingeun continues like Eunsu didn’t say anything.

“You have to pick five of Intak-hyung,” Byeonghwi argues. “We’d lose him if he was five. He’d be too quiet and go missing.”

“That’s better,” Eunsu says, interrupting the end of Byeonghwi’s explanation. “He’s the opposite of Andrew-hyung. All we have to do is give him an iPad. He won’t go anywhere.”

Despite the slight delay in Eunsu’s responses, it almost feels like he’s in the room with them. Byeonghwi lets Mingeun and Eunsu’s careful dissection of five vs five year olds for every Fable member fade into the background. He’s always been something of a third wheel next to the two of them. The years that have passed since Eunsu’s departure dissolve in public interactions like this. It’s like he’s still one of them, and it makes it impossible for any of them to move on. 

And at times like this, when Byeonghwi is sitting in a hotel room of a foreign country, he feels almost guilty. It was Eunsu’s dream to be an idol to escape his small hometown and see the world. Why is he the one here instead, achieving a dream that was never his at all?

Mingeun kicks Byeonghwi’s leg under the desk. “You’re spacing out. Thinking about the worst five-year-old Haksu scenarios?”

“Yeah. They’re pretty bad,” Byeonghwi says. This isn’t his dream, but it is his job, so he plasters a smile on and continues Mingeun’s conversation.

SATURDAY, APRIL 27, 10:14 AM BST / 11:14 AM CEST — AIR FRANCE FLIGHT 1381 (SOMEWHERE OVER THE ENGLISH CHANNEL)

The roar of the jet engines drowns out any other noise, and that gives Haksu the confidence to take out a small camera. That, and he’s bored. The flight is only a little over an hour, but they’ve been on so many planes over the past two weeks that he’s exhausted everything he downloaded from Netflix and the majority of the same handful of in-flight entertainment options available on every flight.

“Mingeun-ah,” he says softly, poking Mingeun in the shoulder. “Where are we?”

“What?” Mingeun cracks one eye open, Haksu having interrupted his dozing off in his seat. Then he notices the camera. “Turn that shit off, hyung. McDonald's. Nike. Coca-Cola. Samsung.”

Haksu pouts and lowers the camera. “You’re no fun.”

Mingeun yawns and rubs his eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it. Ask your question again.”

Haksu doesn't really trust Mingeun not to mess it up again, so he does the exposition himself. He turns the camera on himself, so the two of them are in frame together. “We're going to France!” he stage-whispers. “It’s my first time, and I'm looking forward to it a lot.”

Then he turns in his seat and faces Mingeun. “Say something in French.”

He watches through the camera’s preview as Mingeun says, “Croissant. Cafeteria. Montreal.”

Haksu sighs, still disappointed. “I'll ask Andrew-hyung instead.”

The click of his seat belt unbuckling somehow cuts through the road of the engines. He kneels in his seat, pointing the camera over the back of his seat to where Andrew and Intak are locked in an intense game of air hockey on Intak's iPad. 

“Have you heard of Paris syndrome?” Andrew asks without looking up. The puck disappears into the virtual goal on Intak’s side.

Haksu stops the recording again. He trusts their video editors to somehow spin Mingeun's words, but not whatever Andrew is presenting him with. “I don’t have any kind of syndrome.”

Intak takes his iPad back. “It’s not something you need to worry about.”

Haksu can’t tell if his comment is meant to be demeaning, or if it’s just Intak being Intak. He ignores it and moves on, starting to feel slightly ridiculous as he turns the camera on again. “Have you been to France before?” he asks, deciding he doesn’t want to hear whatever French drivel Andrew will provide him with if prompted. He knows the answer to this question too, but the camera doesn’t.

“Once, when I was in college,” comes Andrew’s predictable response.

“Did you like it? Are you looking forward to performing there?” Haksu prompts. He’s used to conversations with Intak being akin to pulling teeth. Having the same experience with Andrew was unexpected.

“Of course,” he answers through gritted teeth. It comes with the silent assurance that he wouldn’t dream of saying anything else. “I thought you were bothering Mingeun.”

Haksu sighs, resting his chin on the top of his seat. “Mingeun’s boring.”

Mingeun jabs him in the side. “Am not.”

Haksu drops back into his seat, any thought of recording anything replaced with exacting his revenge on Mingeun. 

Daewoong’s icy baritone interrupts his thoughts. “You’re behaving like children. Sit down.” He stands in the aisle, looming over Haksu’s seat. “Camera, Haksu.”

He hands it over without complaint, leaning away from Daewoong and onto Mingeun, who pushes him off only half-heartedly. For once, it seems like Mingeun is actively trying not to cause problems.

Daewoong returns to his seat and Haksu rights himself in his.

“Your fault,” Mingeun whispers.

“Yours, actually,” Haksu whispers back, unwilling to take the blame for something he was provoked into doing. 

Mingeun shrugs. “Whatever.” Then he goes back to listening to his music, leaving Haksu to stew alone in silence.

MONDAY, APRIL 29, 3:49 PM KST — THE FABLE GROUP CHAT (SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA)