#anyways im gonna go eat because I forgot to all day

[banditblvd]

I saw this post last night and was hit by more inspiration than I’ve ever had in my life, and I was gonna say I locked in but it took me 15 hours so I don’t think I locked in well enough

So here’s my artist’s rendition of HoTGuY Flies Again :-)

And a close up crechur bdubs for the road because I’m in love with him

[wolfram-but-art]

i adore ur engie having a chord tail so re: requests how does spy feel about/interact with it

he'd mostly think it's endearing, part of Dell's silly charm. sort of like when you see a puppy

sometimes Dell uses it to get Spy' attention, or to make sure he's still with him and Spy sometimes uses it to make sure Dell doesn't impulse buy a set of power drills or a tablesaw

though, no matter how much spy thinks the tail is cute, he knows it was designed out a desperation.

things rarely go without complications when dealing with amputation and prostetics - things like phantom pain or conectivity issues and basically an every day issue Dell will be forever insecure about the fact he can't just engineer it all away, he definitely regrets cutting half his arm off.

so he designed the tail as a way to counter his weakness. but what if Dell doesn't just stop at the tail? what if he tries to mess with his anatomy further? what if he ends up doing something that irreversably destroys his body? sure he's an engineer, but not a medical proffesional.

what if the pain becomes unbearable for Dell though? what if further modifications are necessary for him to live in peace? will Dell know when to stop? Will Spy know when to draw the line? when to put his foot down?

what if Dell loses himself to the idea that he can elliminate all that is wrong with him with mods like this? what if this is just the beginning?

for now it's probably fine. probably

[girlokwhatever]

Emily engstler x passenger princess!reader go on a road trip

can be one shot/headcannon

emily engstler x passenger princess!gf hcs

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜ emily engstler and passenger princess gf on a roadtrip,,

— it’s……. so chaotic

— she’s trying to body slam all of your bags into the trunk while you sit and watch

- you always ask if she wants help but she says no.

— once the two of you finally get on the road she’s a little more relaxed

— her hand is immediately on some part of your body

- hand, shoulder, back of your neck, thighs, anywhere she can reach tbh

— you guys listen to sapphic music together!!

- she’s always giving you the aux 🤗

— if the roadtrip is late at night she gets really sappy for some reason

- always giving some love-drunk confession

- “i can’t wait to marry you.”

- “i always felt like green was your color baby.”

- “i love it when you hum.”

— “can i have a kiss?”

- “but you’re driving?”

- “doesn’t matter.”

— she ALWAYS insists on driving

— she also always tries to pack you snacks for the road and a blanket so you can be cozy

— “oh my god that fast food is making my car stink so bad.”

- “no im pretty sure that’s your attitude stinking it up in here.”

— you need to use the bathroom every hour…..

— windows down on summer days >>>>

— “you look so pretty right now.”

— if you brought a book to read she’ll ask if you can read it out loud

— “i’m so hungry i’m gonna eat you emily.”

- “i wouldn’t mind.”

— “baby don’t put your feet on the dash, that’s dangerous.”

— even though she packs you snacks you always end up getting something at the gas station or some fast food restaurant

— you always get out of the car with her at the gas station because you just want to hold and kiss her

- it’s been awhile and you miss her

— “can i get a chip please?”

- you feed it to her 🤗

— you guys play stupid games together to help the time pass

- “ok.. lemme think. oh! ok ok i got one. she’s a ten buuuuttttt she never brushes her teeth.”

- “ew what?! gross. zero. she’s a zero.”

— you’re always taking scenic photos

— sometimes you like to video the roadtrip just for cute memories

— “babe there’s something in the road..”

- “OH SHIT”

- “OH MY GOD OH MY FUCK! DONT SWERVE LIKE THAT EM.”

— “i forgot my water so im gonna drink some of yours.”

— she tries to keep you awake as long as possible but you falling asleep is just inevitable

- will talk your ear off anyway

— emily likes to take pictures of you when you fall asleep

- when she shows you said pictures you get mad because,

- “why are you on your phone if you’re driving.”

— “you look really cozy over there…”

- “i am. thanks for noticing.”

- gives you the most diabolical side-eye

— lets not talk about that time you teased her though……. iykyk

— she likes holding your hand and kissing your knuckles

- says it helps her focus

— you like holding her hand and playing with her fingers or tracing her tattoos

— “are we almost there?!”

— you always wear fluffy socks 🤗🤗🤗

— you guys always scream song lyrics together LMAO

— “that sign says tennessee but babe.. you’re the only ten i see.”

- “please never speak again.”

— you always lean the seat all the way back

- it pisses emily off LOL

— “babe i think you need to put your shoes back on.. somethings stinks..”

-……….

- “OW! babe i was just joking.”

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜

enjoy!!!

i had to make this twice cause i accidentally swiped out right as i finished it…….. 👹

[raccoonsface]

“T-Tara?” Pt.2

____________——————————____________

Words- About 750

Warnings- angst or fluff, idk tbh. Swearing, idk what else

Just to say some stuff, I lost my other emails’ password and that email was connected to my other account so I’m on this one now. Sorry for being gone for so long too!

Summary- Y/n and Tara have a crush on each other and go to great lengths to make sure they have them all to themselves.

————————______________———————-

Part 1

______________————————_____________

“Jeez the suns out early”

Tara has just woken up from her sleep, she was tired from all the running around yesterday.

She almost falls back asleep because of it but then she turns over and takes a look at her clock

“SHIT! ITS 10:30 AM IM LATE FOR SCHOOL”

She rushes to get all of her stuff packed so she can make it to school before lunch, which is at 11:30, so it shouldn’t be that hard… right?

“Okay I’m fucked… I can’t find my keys.”

Oh Well she’s fucked

————————______________———————-

______________————————_____________

Tara’s POV

“I’m gonna fucking die”

I’m not gonna make it there in time, come on Tara run faster. Damn it’s hot out

Fuck I didn’t bring my inhaler, again?!What the fuck Tara, you’re gonna die on the side of the street. I’ve gotta sit down, yeah the sidewalk under this tree looks fine.

“Damn two days in a row”

Is this heaven? Ugh it’s too bright here.

“Hah, no this isn’t heaven Tara” oh it’s Y/n

“Well if it isn’t then what am I doing looking at a goddess” damn what’s going on right now

“Geez don’t you got the pick up lines when you’re literally gasping for air”

She’s funny, and really pretty

“Okay, Tara here you go” Her and that extra inhaler

I mean it definitely feels way better when I can breathe that’s for sure, but every time I look at her I loose my breath anyways so I don’t really see the point in it.

“You good Tara?” So kind

“Huh, oh yeah” me and my dumbass self

“Okay good… what are you doing running out here with a backpack on anyways?” Looking for a princess like you

“Oh- uhm I’m running late for school”

“Huh, I didn’t know there was school on Saturdays” shit of course it’s Saturday, that’s why my alarm didn’t go off.

“Oh… I forgot it was Saturday” oh my god you sound like an idiot Tara!

“Huh, well you need a ride to get home?” I think I’m gonna faint

“Uhm I mean if you’re willing to” Oh. My. God.

“I mean if you want me to” of course I do beautiful.

“Uh I mean yeah sure”

“Okay, yeah, alright uhm my cars over there”

“Right! Right, I gotta get up” oh my god she’s reaching out her hand towards me, oh I’m gonna die when I get home

“Thanks”

“Yeah, no problem” She seems kinda shy.. it’s probably nothing I’m over analyzing

“Damn this car seat is comfy” no like holy shit this is comfy

“Yeah, I know, they’re custom seats.” Of course they are

“Anyways where do you live?” Oh right!

“Oh uhm it’s uhh” me and my damn it stuttering

“You wanna go eat instead? I mean you must be hungry from all that running, and I don’t mean to-“ aww she’s so cute I can’t believe I survived without her before

“I’d love to go out with you- I mean yeah I’m down to go eat with you” what the hell Tara

“Huh, right, anyways where should we go?” Shit I don’t know

“Uhm, let’s go tooooooo…” I have no idea where to go eat

“How about we drive around and figure out where to eat..?” Phew!

“Yeah I think that’s probably the better idea” she’s really smart… she could be my wife..

OKAY NO Tara get yourself together. You cannot do this. But she’s so perfect.. maybe just maybe. I can’t even fight it anymore.. I need her. I need Y/n.

————————______________———————-

Oh my god. A lot has happened in the past two months. The meaning behind this new account is between the warnings and the summary at the top.

Sorry for the short post! They’ll be way more sooner!

I have a three part series for Astrid Deetz, the last two parts will probably come out after the movie is released because I can’t really get much off of her character just from the trailer

Anyways hope you guys have had a nice day!

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Good Luck, Fermata Tower (18+)

pairing: fire-lookout!seungcheol x female!fire-lookout!reader

genre: firewatch au LMAO, smut (MDNI), soo much angst, COMFORT, fluff

description: after the death of your roommate you have to find a greater purpose to life. what better way than to became a fire lookout with a surprisingly charismatic neighbour tower?

warnings: this fic is a lot, please read ALL warnings. SUICIDE, implied suicidal thoughts, major character death 2x, reader goes through grief, so does seungcheol, AGE GAP, RADIO SEX??? LMAOOO, dirty talk, petnames, cockwarming, pentrative sex, strength kink, f. and m. masturbation (mutual?), PINING TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE, MENTIONS OF DOING DRUGS/DOING SHROOMS, talks of drowning, if u know the game i think you'll be able to visualize the beauty of this way more, intensive writing on the scenery and the emotions, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASe

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "im getting out lana", "im just gonna be making animal sounds", "can we make this into a play so i can perform this?", "OF ALL THE THINGS THAT COULD MAKE ME CRY IT WAS THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS HOT ASS FACE"

wordcount: 13.9k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL. i love this fic. the writing is a little novelly for a fic, but i was so passionate ab this whole firewatch thing and i got SO INTO the arcs and their personal losses and i just really love yn and seungcheol. i hope this was worth the wait and i apologize for not finishing sooner. all my love, beefboy

You and Mingyu meet at college at some parkour club that you’d both joined to make friends. You face-plant into the pavement and knock out a tooth and Mingyu takes you to a nearby hospital. You click instantly. 

You and Mingyu spend every moment together - you help him and he helps you. Mingyu is smart, you realize. He knows all the formulas in your mathematics course by heart. You tell him he’s smart and he says that no one else seems to think that.

You and Mingyu are best friends. You have matching necklaces that complete a heart. 

You and Mingyu party together and when you get too drunk, he carries you down the halls, home. Sometimes at night he sleeps in your bed. 

Your friend group thinks you’re dating, but you think you and Mingyu are something much more earnest than lovers. You think Mingyu is your soulmate. 

You piggy-back ride Mingyu at graduation and you give him a peck on the cheek when he shakes hands with the dean. 

You and Mingyu become roommates. You binge-watch terrible movies together and hold drinking games. It’s hard to admit some of your favorite memories are from watching the Alvin and The Chipmunks trilogy. 

The night before it happens you and Mingyu eat dinner together that he cooked. You see his snaggletooth every time he smiles. 

You’d almost lived together for two years that morning. He usually wakes earlier than you, but he is nowhere to be seen. The apartment is oddly still. You feel trapped. 

You enter Mingyu’s room.

You think he’s asleep. You leave him alone. 

Two hours later you grow worried. You enter his room to find him in the same position. You shake him. Mingyu doesn’t wake. 

The doctors say a case like Mingyu’s is extremely rare - he was in great shape. You’re not sure if that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

Mingyu’s funeral is grim. His death is so terrible, says the pastor, because it’s so domestic. You think it’s terrible because he is - was - the brightest, most amazing person to walk the earth. His parents want you to hold a speech, but you can’t find the words. You think you might sob if you go up there. You sob anyway. The flowers form a ring on the floor of the church and your soulmate is dead.

You can’t sleep anymore. You imagine him dying, left arm numb, alone in the dead of night and choking out your name, reaching for the thin wall that separated you. You cry for a whole month. The apartment is cursed so you live with your parents. 

One day, you see an ad for a job in the paper. 

You take it.  _____________________________

“Hello?” 

Static stormed the tower-house when the other end cut off.

“Are you there?” 

Your eyes frantically darted around the cabin. It was no more than a 13 foot rectangle and yet your tired eyes couldn’t find the radio, churning out a gruff voice. 

You’d just arrived, barely turned on the generator to allow light in. It was nighttime. The park’s dips and peaks were veiled in blue; the silhouettes of the trees, forking out in long, thin spikes, were navy and the lake Fermata was the brightest, glittering pearl from the moon above. Stars twinkled knowingly at you. 

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side. 

“Yeah, hi, I’m here,” you breathed out tiredly. You let go of the button and a small bit of static spoke back to you. 

“Y/n?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m Seungcheol. I’m in Bay Valley Tower. It’s to the east. Saw your light turn on,” His voice was gruff, laced with sleep. It had a rasp at every vowel, strings of vocal chords straining to spit out the words in between sticky ropes of bile. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. You had nothing else to say. The flimsy, one person bed beckoned to your tired body. You moved, like a doll, one limb at a time, into its harbor, collapsing into the thin mattress. You laid on your side, moonlight shining in from the window by the door. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, carelessly. Impatient in tone, you imagined he’d probably been through this a hundred times before. “So,” he sighed out, deeply. “What’s your problem?” 

“Hm?” 

There was a shooting star, dancing across the sky in that moment. You watched it, shuffling onto your back with half-closed eyes. Stardust sprinkled from it on the open, empty sky.

“People here are all running from something. So what’s your deal?” 

You sighed, watching the star’s open path. It could go anywhere, you thought. Then you moved your arm, holding the receiver to your mouth. 

“Listen, Seungcheol. I’ve been hiking for two days, so I’m gonna go to bed now, okay? Hopefully you’ve found some manners by the time I wake up,” you mumbled, then let go of the button (it had a harsh, grainy texture for some reason), and laid your hand, radio in it, limply at your side. 

You heard a raspy chuckle from the other end. You had no energy to be angry. 

“Alright, Fermata Tower,” there was a smile in the anonymous man’s voice. 

There was a pause. The sound of the fierce breeze carried whiffs of autumn, as it lulled you to sleep. You had almost fallen into a black, snow-buried slumber when you heard the radio crinkle again: 

“Fermata, do you see that shooting star?” 

You had no energy to respond, radio spewing static in your open hand. Thankfully, Seungcheol seemed understanding.

“That’s good luck. So...”

A moment. You and Seungcheol watched the sky-dancer, apart. 

“Good luck.”  _____________________________

“You’re awake!” 

It was Seungcheol’s voice. Transformed by the orange hues of daytime, he sounded much more alive than the night prior. 

“I can see you sitting at your desk.” 

Indeed you were sitting on your desk - a flimsy wooden thing, which looked like it had come form a yard sale - studying the map of the massive park. There were simple cartoonish figures to indicate stresses of trees and drops in the terrain, and rock quarries and waterfalls and lakes. You’d delicately pointed out your own position with red marker, scribbling ‘me’ by it with a heavy child’s hand.

It was cold - the thin boards did not do much to ward away the heavy wind, hooting creeping in the cracks. It smelled like pine needles and tea, as you’d just boiled a lavender on the kettle. IT sat, heating your fingers where it rested beside them in a mug left behind by the previous firewatchman (it read: “don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee”). 

The radio clattered against the wood when you clumsily picked it up. 

“Didn’t know when I signed up for this that I would be dealing with a stalker,” you joked, smiling small when you heard the man on the other end let out a hearty laugh. 

“Hey, don’t go labeling me just yet, kid.”

“Kid?!” you said incredulously, dropping the marker that you had been so diligently using to scribble excellent comments on your map (latest was: “maybe cute bears”). “How old are you?!” 

“I’m 37,” Seungcheol said.

“Oof.” 

“Hey!” 

“I’m kidding!” you laughed, dropping your pen and leaning back in your seat. The view was beautiful. You could see the lake, surrounded by a rippling sea of trees, each top reaching for the sky, like you. “I’m 27, I’m getting up there with you.”

“Just a small decade.”

“I’m mature for my age.” 

Seungcheol chuckled on the other end of the radio. You spun around in your chair (it creaked horribly - it sounded like a pig at the sight of a cleaver) surveying each square of the forest from your windows. You narrowed your eyes, trying to spot his lookout tower. 

“How come you can see me but I can’t see you?” you mumbled, now standing to try and see, but it was drowned out by the sheer volume of pinewood. Seungcheol grumbled on the other end: “I should be East.” 

“Yeah, fuck, I forgot to tell you, I think I dropped my fucking compass on the way here,” you ran a hand through your hair and frown. 

“Uh, shit, you’re gonna have to pick up a new one, bud,” he said and you slumped. “Well, if you’re facing the lake - Fermata Lake, I mean - I should be to your left.” 

You followed his instructions. You faced the lake, then took two loggy steps to face left, then squinted incessantly at the horizon. Not dissimilar to a crowd in Times Square, the trees stood toe to toe all across at every inch you spied. The pines zagged upwards like Giza, and culminated into the biggest mountain in the park, just under the sun. The mountain loomed overhead where you finally spotted the lookout tower, like a monster crouched over its prey. You tried to shake off the thought and focus on the lone, floating tower in the pit of pointy trees.

“I see you, Bay Valley,” you breathed into the radio. 

The tower looked much more lonely from so far away. It was different when you were in it, but with the miles-long stretch between you two, you found it looked so small and feeble. You could make out the light turned on within it, a rectangle of burning orange. The shooting star must’ve crossed directly between your two towers. 

“Attagirl,” Seungcheol smiles. “Do you see me waving?”

“No, what the fuck.” 

“I got binoculars.” 

“Ew, you are a stalker!” 

“It’s for bird-watching!” Seungcheol informed you, offense in his tone. You cackled into the radio. “I like watching birds, thank you very much.” 

“Jeez, can’t believe what this job does to people.” 

“I liked bird-watching before I got this job,” Seungcheol said.

“You’re so white,” you grinned. 

“I’m not even white!” 

You and Seungcheol both laughed, joyous hiccups interrupted by bursts of static and 3 miles of rocky terrain and pine needles. You squint at the sun, traversing and dipping under the jagged hedges of the tree-line. 

Your head lolled over to spot between the desk and doorway, where you’d dropped your orange backpack (a peculiar color, come to think of it - same color as the lifejacket they deploy on airplanes when everything has already gone wrong). Now it was flopped onto its side, zipper ripped open and knick knacks and crumbs at its mouth, spilling onto the floor. 

“Where do I get a new compass?” you asked, looking at a yellowed book sat beside the backpack.

“Uh, shit, gimme a sec,” Seungcheol mumbled, and before his radio cut off, you heard, briefly, the itchy scrambling of papers, and the sound made him seem a lot more real. “We have these, uh, supply boxes scattered around. ‘M readin’ this, uhhh, fuckin’ info-thing.. Should say which of them supposedly has a compass.” 

“Sounds like you really know your stuff.” 

“Get off my ass, Fermata.” 

You heard papers rustle again and a small bump before the radio cut off, as if he put the radio down on the table. You awaited, arms crossed over your pink and gray striped hoodie, and staring at sundown. Orange flooded the sky, as if it were all engulfed in flames and this was really hell. 

“Uhhh, okay, I got it! There’s one down at Eleison Valley? The code is 1-2-3-4. That’s actually the code to all of them.” 

“Secure.”

“Shut up.” 

“Well, I can get some exploring done, at least,” you frown, spying a not-so-casual hike on the dotted surface of your map, when you tangoed back to the table, fiddling with the edge of the paper. 

“Yeah. You should probably do it tomorrow though. Sun’s coming down.” 

“Yeah. Can’t believe I slept that long.” 

“Don’t feel too bad about it, kid. I was knocked out for, like, two days after the hike out here. It’s a miracle you’re already awake.” 

“Thanks, Bay Valley,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat with some strained shuffling. You watched, eyes half-lidded as the sun fully disappeared behind the curtain of the park. Its light still roamed the sky, where it hid. Half dark blue, half red, the sky twinkled at you and your insignificance brilliantly. You tried not to think about how lonely and floaty your lookout tower must look from afar. Everything feels big when it’s close enough. 

“You’re welcome, Fermata.” _____________________________

“You think I could eat any of these mushrooms, BV?” 

“BV?” 

“Bay Valley.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol sighed on his end of the radio. You were trudging through the undergrowth in your new hiking boots, lifesaver-colored backpack on the plates of your back, weight pushing through the fabric of your jacket. “No, I don’t think that would be wise.” 

“Damn it. Was gonna get hella high,” you joked, eyeing another cluster of snow-white mushrooms under the shade of a tree, sloping along a gnarly root. Your crunching steps in the loose dirt came to a halt - there was a dropoff. The cliff cut off like a broken chocolate bar and a sharp rockwall supported it to the next layer of earth. 

The path was snaking down towards the lake. You’d circle around and climb up towards Tri Forks Tower, where eventually the climbing heights would bowl into Eleison Valley - a flower field, supposedly (in the map a little flower icon alerted you of this). 

“If I die from this rockwall, please, tell my family I love them,” you grumbled, fetching an itchy, frayed rope from the depths of your backpack. Squinting at the high sun, pale drops of sweat forming around your forehead, you slung it over the hook. The park was littered with these - rusted old things that were leaning forward from years of heavy hikers’ tugging. This one was particularly bent. 

“You’re so dramatic,” came Seungcheol from the speaker. 

“Am not, man, these rocks are like fucking knives!” 

“Such a drama queen. A real Primadonna.”

You huffed and puffed as you lowered yourself down the cliffside. Your boots pressed flat against the jagged rock, biceps burning as you held yourself up and walked down the side of it. The whole world was with you, sideways, and you would’ve stopped to appreciate it were you not sure you would pass out doing so. 

“Holy shit,” you said to yourself when you were finally on stable ground and not spider-manning the mineral deposits of the park. You put your hands on your hips and squinted at its imposing open jaw. 

“You down yet, Queen B?”

You panted, grimacing, when you tugged the rope hard and it leapt down like a flying snake: “Yeah, I’m down.” 

You continued padding through the forest. The earth was dry and it was summer, but the wind was harsh and it cooled your stovetop-skin as you walked along a rock quarry, Fermata Lake hiding behind the covers of huge, flat bulwark. You listened to the cacophonous call of the forest: rustling leaves and birds. 

“I had a friend - uh, friend of a friend, actually - who, like, got high as fuck off mushrooms and had a bad trip,” you said, mouth to the mic of the radio, as you studied the cover of the leaves. 

“Yeah? What happened?” Seungcheol hummed. 

“She said that, like -- fuck,” you breathed, scrambling over a particularly rocky rock. “She said there was, like, like her house flooded. Like, water just came gushing in and the whole house was, like, underwater suddenly and she.. She thought she was gonna drown. And her fuckin’ kitchen turned into, like, a coral reef or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Shit,” Seungcheol seemed much more alert now. You heard him put something down on his table (you imagined it was just as shitty as your own). “I didn’t even know that was possible.” 

“It’s fucking crazy. Don’t do drugs, man.” 

You turned past the quarry and was met with the sight of the huge, gaping hole of Fermata Lake. Strangely oval, the lake was flanked on all sides with thick pineland, except for a slight angle where grassy hills turned upwards towards Tri Forks Tower. 

The water was much more green up close. Algae sloshed up the side of the gravel-earth, willing you into the murky depths. 

You stared at it for a while. You thought maybe you could make out someone standing at the bottom of the bowl-shape.

“I’m at Fermata Lake,” you said then, and then started walking again. 

“Good job! And you haven’t even died at a drop off yet,” Seungcheol joked and you laughed. 

“God, you’re such a jerk. I bet you’re fuckin’.. Watching birds right now like a nerd.” 

“Okay, rude-” 

“Why don’t you go outside and be productive?” 

“I’m looking for fires,” Seungcheol snarked back. “The binoculars are multi-use.” 

You let the conversation die down for a bit, focused on the walk. It was peaceful when you let it be, but at times you came to feel like you were being swallowed alive, or like the looming figure of Aluralura Mountain was pressing its boulder-brawn in between your shoulder blades. The air in the forests was thicker, so you stayed persistent in your path, as you climbed up the clearings and spotted Tri Forks in the distance. 

“Hey, uh, Y/n?” 

The sudden intrusion of Seungcheol on the radio had you jolting, dropping the radio into the earth (thankfully it was fine - here the earth was softer and it dipped under your boot and water pressed out from the mull). You bent over and picked it back up. 

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” you scolded, wiping mud off the yellow plastic of the radio.

“Oh, uh, sorry..” 

It was only then that you noticed a meekness in Seungcheol’s voice. You, of course, had not the furthest idea what he looked like, but he sounded like he was holding a knife behind his back. You furrowed your brows and stared down the radio, as if it would give you answers. There was dirt clamoring the yellow, where your fingers had held on.

“What’s up?” you said and sounded fakely bright. 

“Well, I just-” he cut himself off with a cough, one that reached those stringent, thinning vocal cords and brought back the rasp. “I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I mean, when you came to the tower.” 

You didn’t respond, only furrowed your brow and looked out across the sun-lit moor. There was a deer traversing across the grass. 

“Uhm. Because. I was- I was kinda drunk, uh, when you came, and I know I was kinda pushy about, you know, why you came out here and all that.” 

“OH!” you exclaimed and the noise ended in a laugh. “Please, Seungcheol. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine.” 

“Okay, good,” he mumbled. 

The flower field came into view after climbing a particularly steep hill and it was a flower field - not just cartography myth. 

It was all sunflowers and catmint - a huge, long stretch of purple and yellow splotches, stemming from green, untamed grass - stretching as far as you could see, disappearing into a hill at the far horizon. You were sure the smell of pollen went for miles, flowerdust sprinkling the air in heavy coats. The path you were following split the field in two, a dry, boring gravel streak, but you saw, faded from sunlight, a once deep, now light, ashy brown box at the right side. 

“I found it!” you shrieked into the radio, a newfound strength gearing your legs into a sprint. “Fuck, yes!” 

“Good job, Fermata!” there was a smile in his voice. 

“Thank you!” 

You were also smiling, when you went up to it. It was rectangular and made of planks, held together by a metal loop and a padlock. Like everything else, it was dirty and ravished, and you felt a faint worry at the sight of scratch marks on its side. You clicked in the code: 1-2-3-4. 

The interior of the box was mostly empty. To your horror the first thing you saw was a porn magazine, which you did not dare to touch; then you saw a granola bar, which you did touch and stash away in your backpack, without any regard for how old it may have been; then came the compass, small and cheap metal and pointing out that you were, in fact, facing Northwest.

There was another item in the box. You did not initially see it, as it was taped to the interior of the lid, but when you raised your eyes, you saw it. It was a piece of paper - a note. 

Grimacing, you ripped it off where it was blowing violently in the wind, holding it tight between your fingers and smudging dirt along the untainted white. 

It read: 

‘Hey, Cheol. If you head up the path there’s a family of raccoons! I left this granola bar here so you could feed them! From Jun.’

“Hey, Seungcheol?” you said absently, staring over the blue, scribbled ink, worn out from months of rainwater dripping in through the planks. He hummed on the other end of the line. “There’s a note here for you. From a, uh, Jun?”

“Oh.”

There was a pause that you couldn’t decipher - maybe you could have, had you been there with Seungcheol. Maybe if you could read his face, his body, you could’ve known what it meant. But for now you just stood in the breeze. It was picking up, getting angrier, hurling at your clothes and hair, banishing you from the field. The flowers dangled uselessly. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” 

Silence. 

“No, not really.” 

“Oh, okay. Uh, who’s- who’s Jun?” 

Silence. 

“The guy who used to work in Fermata Tower. Before you.” 

“Oh.” 

Every second was longer than the last. You wish you knew what it all meant, but you sensed in Seungcheol’s curtness that he was not taking questions currently, and so you looked around the quickly graying sky and the suddenly spiteful wind and folded the note away in your jacket pocket. 

“I’m gonna head back now,” even your voice was rocked by the wind. 

Seungcheol didn’t respond. 

You left Eleison Valley alone.  _____________________________

This was where it was supposed to be - greatness. Not success, but something greater, larger, more alive than you could ever be. You thought you’d find it in the mountains, the valleys, the lakes and the forests and maybe that had been naive of you - to think that nature and earth could give any sort of meaning that death had taken away from you. These shadowed parts only served to make you feel smaller, you realized. The mountains glared at you, the forests swallowed and spat you out. 

You couldn’t sleep. The image of Mingyu’s outstretched hand was back and you could almost see him from your flimsy bed, lying on his back with a tanned hand out for you. You left him alone, just like you always had. 

Burrowed under the veil of your thin blanket, grabbing at it with clumsy hands, you turned your back to Mingyu’s corpse on your floor.

A prickle sauntered up your back. It was that emotion that something was creeping closer, something was out to get you. That you would feel a cool, dead hand on your back and when it would spin you around his face would be there, and he’d look nothing like himself; he’d be pale and purple around the mouth and his eyes would be sunken and dark and all the glitter he possessed - that he used to possess - would be gone and something menacing, like a hungry mountain, would have replaced it. 

You thrashed, suddenly, to look back at the corpse. It was still there. Hadn’t moved an inch. Deja vu. 

Thoughtlessly, desperately, you fumbled for the radio wrapped up the sheets of your bed. Your fingertips found the plastic hardware, and it bounced at your eagerness, before you pulled it along the sheets and up to your mouth. 

“Seungcheol?” you gasped. 

When did you start crying? You decided you must’ve been crying all night and maybe you’d cried so much that your brain had stopped registering the feeling of wet tears. 

There was a pause. A long one. So long, you started to really become aware of the cries of the wind, the patter of the rain and the endless mumbling of the trees (and the gargled, bubbling blood rising from Imaginary Friend Mingyu’s half-open mouth). Then static spoke back to you: 

“Yeah?” his voice was so raspy, you registered that you must’ve awoken him from his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your nails dug into the radio and you pressed it into your chest, holding on tight. 

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered, words full of shaky air. There was another pause and for a second you feared that Seungcheol might’ve gotten angry and gone back to bed. But he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” You heard rustling on his end, and you imagined him standing up from the bed, looking out at your lonely island of a lookout tower. “Do I need to trek over there?” 

“No!- no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you protested, then trailed off. 

“... Are you crying?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut: “I just- d’you remember what I said? About my- my friend’s friend who- who had a bad mushroom trip?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. Her- Her house flooded, right?” Seungcheol’s voice was tainted with thorough confusion, but not annoyance. Never annoyance. 

“Well, I just-” you sputtered and sighed. You almost wanted to stop talking and give up when Seungcheol stayed quiet on his end and drew the words forward: “It’s so stupid. Sometimes I just- I just feel like that. Like you’re drowning, everywhere you go. You know?” 

Your voice was stringent with nervousness, and you picked at your nail, wrapped around the radio in the shallow dark. 

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart,” he mumbled. It was amazing to you how gruff and tough Seungcheol turned soothing and caring so fast. The nickname felt like a warm hug, and you almost didn’t register the sound of fabric rustling once more. “I’m coming over.”

“N-No!” you gasped sharply. Your eyes flickered down. Mingyu watched from the floor, eyes glazed over from death. He smelled foul.

“Can you.. Can you just- talk to me?” you whispered helplessly, and Seungcheol quieted down, seemingly weighing your proposal. 

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart, I’ll talk to you,” Seungcheol whispered soothingly, and for God’s sake, you didn’t even know what he looked like, but the rasp in his voice, and the comfort and warmth that sung out the speaker of the radio had your heart clenching in your chest. “What do you wanna talk about?” 

“Um, I don’t know,” you sniffled. Seungcheol only softened his voice and sat, awake in the middle of the night, comforting you.

“Can I tell you about birds?” 

He told you about birds for 45 minutes before you fell asleep (something he had predicted would happen); he told you about how pheasants are known for their striking colors and how they have excellent eyesight; he told you how he saw a nightjar just before going to bed that night, and how they’re incredibly hard to spot; he told you about Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and how they’re the funniest little guys, and he loves them, because they glow purple in the sunlight; he told you about g…

Oh. You must’ve started dozing off.  _____________________________

You weren’t sure when it changed, but at some point you looked out the window, and the mountain looked a lot more like yourself. 

You were getting better, happier, you were waking up with more energy, you were bubblier. You weren’t entirely sure you could blame it on the park though. For two months you’d had your job and for about two months, every once in a while, you’d radioed Seungcheol at night, and without any question, he’d tell you about birds. 

It sounded stupid the more you thought about it, but his voice lulled you into a comfortable sleep even on Mingyu’s most insistent nights. 

You’d wake up and patrol your area, then you’d settle back in for a couple of hours, watching out for fire hazards and guests in the park, before you’d patrol one more time. Then you’d go to bed. 

This was not the type of job you took to make friends, but somehow Seungcheol had become the reason you woke up everyday. Everyday you looked forward to walking through the woods with his voice on your radio, and you looked forward to making him laugh and him making you laugh. 

“Seungcheol, I’ve got eyes on what I’m pretty sure is a Red-breasted Merganser, come in.” 

This morning you were up extraordinarily early - for you, that is. You weren’t certain what exactly prompted this early rise (maybe you were finally sleeping right thanks to a certain rough-throated man?), but nonetheless you’d enjoyed the view of dawn along the undergrowth and had eaten half-warm oatmeal in bed with an open book. Now you were bored and craving the attention of your only forest-companion. 

Seungcheol didn’t respond like you were expecting though. When the radio crinkled in response, you heard him panting on the other end and thumps, like he was picking it up off the floor. 

“That’s… That’s great, Fermata. I’ve gotta get my.. My binoculars out,” he heaved for air and fumbled clumsily with the sensitive mic. You cringed at the sound. 

“What are you doing? Why are you so out of breath?” you asked. A twinge of worry slipped out in your tone. Was he okay? 

“I’m, uh, working out,” Seungcheol chuckled, and he seemed to finally regain composure, clearing his throat sheepishly. “You’re not usually awake to hear it.” 

“You work out every day?” 

“Sure do - gotta be prepared to knock out a grizzly,” he grunted. 

You leaned back in your seat, a less than amused expression on your face, because a twirling strand of fire danced up your chest and settled into your cheeks. Why was it suddenly so hot? Fire spread across your nerve endings and twinged you red in the apples of your cheeks. You ran your hands over your face to soothe the sizzling.

This was ridiculous, you thought. Seungcheol was not making you blush. You didn’t even know what he looked like! He might as well have had an eye patch and a mohawk. But even as you halfheartedly scrutinized yourself, your thoughts clouded over the idea of sweet, attentive, raspy Seungcheol with big arms and thighs and a sculpted chest and-

“Are you- are you, like, buff?” 

The question left your lips before you could stop it. Your voice broke halfway through the sentence and you let go of the button with an embarrassed hiss, like a kettle huffing out air. The embarrassment, that was potent and squeezing at your chest, worsened when you heard Seungcheol’s throaty chuckle on the other end, limp and dry. 

“You’re curious today, aren’t you?” he mused then, smirk clear from the tone and pronunciation of the words, and you squeezed your eyes shut because why was his voice and the thought of him and the warmth coming through the radio speaker suddenly bothering you so much?

The truth was you hadn’t masturbated in months. With everything going on, you simply hadn’t felt the urge or the want. But, it occurred to you, now that you were slowly becoming a functioning human once more, the urge was returning hot and fast in your core, and, of course, your only companion with the raspy voice and the attentive words and the apparently muscly body was bringing forth this urge with ease. 

You pressed down the urge, taking a deep breath before you pressed the button once more. You were not going to masturbate to the thought of Seungcheol - not Seungcheol who you only knew by voice, who had been nothing but caring and sweet to you. You could not corrupt the preciousness of your companionship with your lewd, depraved thoughts. 

“I’m just curious what you look like. Unlike you, stalker, I don’t have binoculars!” That sounded a lot more like the you that had not just gotten wet at the thought of Seungcheol’s bulging muscles. 

“Hey! The power of the binoculars is limited. I can only really see your silhouette, nothing fancy,” he defended and then right as you were about to respond, he knocked the wind out of you again: “And yes, I’m pretty buff, if I do say so myself.”

Ugh. 

You went the rounds that day and got through another day without having to complete fire protocol, ending out the evening with a pack of instant noodles your family had so graciously sent you (Seungcheol scolded you: “That has no nutrients!”). However each step through the forest and each slurp of noodles and page of your book was plagued by the latent fire inside you. A burning occupied your abdomen fueled by the echoing morning voice of Bay Valley Tower. 

By nightfall you gave in. You were only a girl. This didn’t have to change anything, you thought, as the park turned plum purple. You settled into bed in your pajamas, sitting upright against the frail wood wall and letting your hair bunch on the rattling plate of glass. Your eyes moved to and fro, bouncing over the now lived-in cabin and taking in the dark void of the farest corner. 

Briefly, you fiddled with your radio in your palm. You could call Seungcheol and- wait, why would you do that? No, no. You packed away that wicked thought - it only served to make you feel more guilty. No, instead you slid down the wall to lay in your pillow, now positive you were alone. 

An owl hooted outside and you slipped your hand into your underwear. 

It was surprisingly easy to surrender your consciousness to the lust (and you had, God bless your soul, stayed wet throughout the entire day). It clouded you over, as you began rubbing up and down your pussy, ghosting over your clit to dip down to your glazed slit. Your eyes squeezed shut and you conjured your best doll-replica of Seungcheol.

In your dream he was a faceless mist, but he had a carved upper body, and from the fog surrounding his head spewed his voice - dripping in warmth and comfort, as you imagined it was his toned arm reaching between your legs and pumping into you.

Your other hand snaked down to your clit, where your hips canted off the bed. In the whirl of thrusting into yourself and rubbing tight circles in your clit, you realized, lip bitten raw under your prying teeth, that there was no reason to hold back your moans. It was only forest and wasteland for miles - and surely Seungcheol would not hear you in his floating snow globe. 

“A-ah, Seungcheol,” you wantonly murmured, burying your head in your pillow and sighing lazily. A flush had crept up your neck, where your chest expanded to allow for air. The pleasure was immense - probably more intense, since it had been quite a while - warmth spreading in your lower stomach and culminating at your throbbing clit. Recklessly, you moaned and thrashed as you fucked yourself on your fingers, hiking towards your orgasm. “Seungcheoool-”

“Y/n?” 

You froze. 

Maybe you’d imagined it. Still, your fingers were stopped in their tracks, simply resting on the warmth of your folds, itching to continue. You sat up in bed and tried to ward away the creeping panic. Your heart began to gallop to the beat of a siren. 

The air had been starched when you finally pulled your hand out of your underwear, hot cheeks and glistening hands all over, when you began searching for the radio.

“Y/n, are you okay?” 

You had your back hunched over the edge of the bed, searching for the little yellow receiver, when his voice came again in a thick forest of static. You snapped your head to under your comforter, where the noise was slightly muffled. 

In a blurred panic, you threw the comforter off of you and spotted the small radio by your calf, and you scrambled to pick it up. When the dirty plastic touched your cheek, you stopped, sighed a shaky, hot breath, and closed your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine. What’s up?” you let go of the button and cringed at your own disheveledness, the breath and shake in your voice. You pressed your forehead radio-front in a silent prayer. 

There was a hesitance to Seungcheol when he spoke next: “... You were calling for me, you sounded in pain?” 

This was certainly the worst thing he could’ve said. You would’ve rather he told you he spotted a bear at the foot of your tower, trying to eat you! You must’ve accidentally kicked the radio and hit the button, you decide, and you damn yourself for keeping it in the bed - of course, shit like this would happen!

“I was…-” (If only you were a better liar), “- pranking you…” 

Seungcheol huffed out in amusement on the other end and you wanted to jump off the railing to the lookout tower and break your neck. “You were pranking me?” 

You gulped with a decidedly dry mouth. “It was a bear attack prank.” 

Seungcheol was smiling: “Yeah?” 

You were not: “Yeah.” 

There was an entropic silence, where you thoughts came rambled and pleading in your head: Please, just let this go, please, just let this go, let’s pretend it never happened, let’s-

“You wanna know what I think you were doing?” 

Seungcheol’s voice had dropped an octave. The smile in his voice was gone and there was something menacing and commanding about him now. In the moment, overcome with a cocktail of guilt and shame, you could not discern if this was anger or lust - the first seemed fitting. 

“I think you were fucking your little fingers thinkin’ about me,” he hummed and in response you whined and squeezed your eyes shut. The shame encapsulated you. “Shh, shh, calm down, I’m not mad, honey.” 

Blinking through rapidly forming tears, you opened your eyes to stare, dumbfounded, at the radio (as if it were Seungcheol and you were not several miles apart). “Really?” 

“Not mad at all. Jus’ think you should’ve told me if you wanted my help,” he tutted on his end and, God, he was so nurturing and comforting and he knew it, and it was so sexy. Your pussy, which had vaguely throbbed from the negligence throughout, was now screaming for your attention, hole clenching sadly around nothing. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want-” 

“You’re crying again, baby,” he must’ve noted from the hoarseness of your voice and the sniffles that accompanied every syllable. 

“Just want you so bad,” you sobbed, now shamelessly slipping your hand back into your underwear and sighing dazedly in relief when you touched it again. 

“Need Seungcheol to take care of you, huh?” The smile in his voice was back. 

“Yeah.” 

“Bet you don’t want me talking about birds now, hm?” he chuckled (at his own joke), voice low and raspy. “Are you touching that pretty pussy?” 

“Mhmm,” you responded lazily, floating high on the sound of his voice and jolts of electricity they sent as you worked up a pace on your clit once more. The pain of the interruption ebbed away. 

“Good girl, hm?” He knew. “Getting off to the sound of my voice, eh? Don’t even know what I look like.” 

“Hng- k-know you’re b-buff,” you gritted out, voice coming in sharp breaths. Your body moved languidly, back arching off the bed and hair coming out in choppy strands on your pillow. Seungcheol scoffed out a laugh: “Like knowing I could just fold you in half? Fuck you into tomorrow? Hm?” 

You let out a loud, dumb whine of his name. It was a total inability to get over his words; how melodious it was, and yet, how contradictory the smoothness of his words were to the strained nature of his thrumming voice. And the worst of it all was how confident he was - you supposed hearing someone else masturbate to you would be a confidence boost - and how the arrogance swelled out in the most comforting, nurturing way. Each word felt like a hand on your body, like a caress that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck, princess, say my name like that again. Please.” 

“Seungcheol!” you obliged mindlessly, legs shaking on either side of your glistening hand. 

“Shit, I-” he grunted, and you heard a fumbling of fabrics on his end. Your nerves spun in excitement at the thought of him getting hard at your voice. “Can you put two fingers in the pretty pussy - it’ll feel like one of mine, baby.” 

You cried out when your fingers entered yourself, pads of your fingertips rubbing against your walls. Outside of the windows, the park was an empty wasteland of mauve and orchid, and the Fermata lake was brilliantly alive and dipping under the three-quarter-moon. 

“Wish it was your pussy wrapped around my cock right now,” he grunted, and he’d lost breath and composure and if you knew what his face looked like, you would imagine it sweaty and twisted up and a red-lipped ‘o’ letting the jaw slack. 

Resuming your earlier motions (double-handing your own kitty), you felt your orgasm lurking in the pit of your stomach, a tight-wound knot being ripped apart. You were panting into the cool air, creating silver-clouds in your tower-home. “A-ah, want you inside me so bad, Cheol- shit! Gonna- gonna cum-” 

“Yeah? You gonna cum thinking about my cock inside you baby? Thinkin’ about me just bouncing you up and down like my little fuckdoll?” His speech ended in the prettiest moan you’d ever heard, and you imagined every well-defined, flexed muscle under the moonlight and the thought had your whole body jerking and shaking and when you closed your eyes the stars stayed with you, white and glimmering under your eyelid. 

The strangled moans of your orgasm sent Seungcheol over the edge - at least from what you could tell. His dirty talk turned into strings of curses and moans and grunts until the radio went dead, and all you could hear was your own labored breaths and the faraway hooting of a horned owl. 

The silence flatlined the excitement into nervousness. Your lip was almost automatically caught in your teeth and you glanced over the radio beside you through your lashes.

Oh shit. What the fuck had you done?

“Uh, did you-” the smell of sweat shot up as you shuffled in your sheet to grab the radio once more. “Did you, uh, cum?” 

Oh fuck. You just made it way worse.

The silence from the radio was much louder than any response, but when the receiver did finally crinkle with static, the sound of laughter exploded from it.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, BV,” you scolded, but you were smiling and relief flooded you like water overflows Fermata Lake during heavy downpour. 

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped on the other end. “It’s just-.. ‘DID YOU CUM?’” 

“Alright, I’m going to bed now. You suck,” you quacked, and even though you were alone you thought to suppress the gentle tugging at your lips into a sharky smile. 

“DID YOU CUM?” 

He sounded pretty when he laughed.  _____________________________

“I can’t believe I have to hike down here to confiscate some fireworks.” 

Your grumble came from the forest beside Fermata Lake. You were walking down a patch of dirt revealed from years’ of trampling feet, dewy sprigs of grass arching into the mud. A group of (presumably) teenagers were firing fireworks down near the edge of your assigned territory. 

“They’re a fire hazard!” Seungcheol squawked obviously, and you huffed in your boots, preparing to climb down a rocky slope. 

“I know that! It’s just everywhere - the website, the signs - don’t use fireworks!” you complained. Seungcheol hummed absently on the other line: “Go teach those suckers a lesson, Fermata!” 

“I will,” you said, agitated. 

“Just don’t fuck with their personal belongings. Last thing we need is a lawsuit. Again.”

“I won’t,” you said, deflated. 

Even in your most angered moments, you could hand yourself over to the gentle forest. No longer were you protruding into a bubble, straining to get through a barrier that was urging you out, but you were absorbed into it, like you were one of its own. 

The forest was lush with pines and brown and green moss painting bark and rocks, and the grass leapt higher than your knees, as you trudged further and further in. 

SWOOOOSH!

A firework propelled into the sky about 100 meters away, and you watched its ignited trails of smoke before it exploded into a fest of sparkling blue and gold. You huffed out in anger at the sight. The sky wasn’t even fully dark - it was merely a muted blue evening. 

“Did you see that?” Seungcheol came from the radio-speaker. 

“Yeah, I’m right with them.” 

As you padded closer the smell of wet pine cones and coltsfoot accompanied the sound of distant voices - indeed, they sounded juvenile. You could make out at least two girls and at least one boy, although their voices were hard to distinguish, the way they echoed in between the grid of trees.

“Hey!” you yelled, as you creeped just close enough. Their voices hushed and you saw their frightened faces lit by handheld, Target-bought flashlights when you peeled back the screen of a bramblebush. They were gathered together amongst a tent, flashlight lighting the plates of the faces ablaze in cool white.

“Cut it out with the fireworks, alright?” you huffed and your anger melted a little when you saw that they were indeed just kids - maybe 19? They seemed to have nothing to say, and so you scanned the beer cans and the scattered backpacks and finally caught sight of a bundle of rockets in the grass. Your brows furrowed, and you picked it up with a sternness. 

“Hey, that’s ours!” one kid chimed, but he made no move to stop you, really, as you trudged angrily back to the bush you had come from. 

“Not as long as you’re in our park, man. It’s a fire hazard.” 

“We’ll take them back home-” 

“Goodnight!” The desperate plea fell on deaf, tired ears. You just wanted to eat dinner, so you disappeared out on a trail of pine needles and valiantly ignored the trail of curses and insults following you. You could care less. 

“I got the fireworks, Seungcheol,” you sighed tiredly and your eyes were dark pits and your face was relaxed, if only to conservative energy. 

“Good job, Fermata.” 

You were not in the talking mood. Maybe Seungcheol could tell by your tone of voice; maybe he could hear it in your sigh; but Seungcheol piped up again: “You know, if you need some energy for the hike back, there’s a supply box - uhh, 52? - if you head upwards instead of towards Fermata Lake.” 

You wanted to be grumpy, you really did, but the thought of a salivating, expired, delicious, out-of-date granola bar had you changing course to the slowly gaining hill of the forest. 

It was weird. This was probably the closest you’d ever been to Seungcheol’s tower. Under the prickly cover of pine some mile in the distance, you could see a glowing square, perched over the treetops by long, wooden pillars, support beams crossing the middle. You couldn’t help but wanna go up to it. There had been an unbearable magnetic pull to his tower ever since that night however long ago. You decided to stay the course for Supply Box 52. 

“I can practically see you from here,” you commented, and the tower was becoming a beacon as the evening mulled darker and darker by the minute. 

“Really? Hang on,” he did not let go of the radio-button, and so you had the pleasure of listening to the ruffling of fabrics and thumps on the floor. “Can you see me flexing in the window?” 

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, and the sound bounced off the pines and traveled up to the rock of the nearby Aluralura Mountain. “No, I’m not quite that close.” 

“Damn it!” 

“Yeah, it‘s a real shame,” you muttered, smiling, and then you caught sight of the supply box up ahead. The hill flattened out once more (to which you breathed a sigh of relief) and the box was perched on the edge facing the path that began onto the cliffs. This was Seungcheol’s territory - cliff sides and all. “I think I see Supply Box 52.”

“Open that bad boy up.” 

You entered the code, scrolling the mechanisms one by one until the numbers read 1-2-3-4 (you still thought this combination was ridiculous), and when you opened the lid it creaked horribly, worn from the weather. 

The wind was harsh that day, and a note, identical to the one you’d found at Eleison Valley, broke off its tape from the mean pushes of the wind. Instinctively, you grabbed it as it started to fly off, and your hand closed around it and crinkled it under your fingers. You looked at it with knitted brows. 

Wordlessly, you tucked it in between your side and your arm, redirecting your attention to the goodies in the supply box. 52 held a rope and a map and another directory for supply boxes and, to your exhausted delight, a box of grandma-looking caramels. You took the whole thing and stuffed it into your bag. 

As you shuffled, you put the note between your lips, stuffing the plastic container of gold-wrapped, sugary candies in between your rope and your own map and a coat for possible rain. When you zipped it up, the fabric of the bag warped grotesquely to fit the various items you’d brought. 

You pulled the note back out from your lips. A small wet patch of spit lingered on the paper, as you unfolded it. 

It read: 

‘Hey Seungcheol,

If you find this, I gotta go be with my mom now. I’ll miss you forever.

From Jun.’

The wind blew kisses on your back like the presence of a ghost.

“You find anything good?” Seungcheol’s voice peeked through the static of the radio. It had been quiet for a while. You couldn’t take your eyes off the letter. The ink was smudged and slurred. 

“Uh, caramels, actually,” you said, eyes dancing over each slope of ‘forever’. “Like, granny caramels.”

You put the letter away.  _____________________________

A week later and you were looking out of the window at pouring rain. The sky was smothered by a duvet of dark gray clouds, and the rain was coming harder than you’d ever seen. It was like thousands of bullets pelting into the ground and turning it soft and muddy, and the drops hit your roof like the nonstop click of a keyboard. 

"Rainy season, huh?” your mouth was to the radio. 

“Yeah. We’re gonna be staying up all night to watch out for lightning. Fire hazard.” 

“Shit, I should make coffee.” 

“I’m way ahead of you.” 

The lightning came and thunder followed. The sound was enormous and terrifying. It grumbled like a hungry beast and the sound bounced off of every mountain-wall and echoed from all sides. You felt very small, wrapped up in a blanket at your desk, a steaming cup of coffee by your side and your fire extinguisher evacuated from its holder to stand beside you, all red and shiny aluminum and rubber nozzle. 

“Did that look like it hit a tree?” you asked after seeing a zig-zagging bolt of lightning hanging a little too low over the crowns. Your voice was louder than usual - this night was a game of overpowering the screaming rain. It was some 1 AM.

“Uhhhhh, shit. Maybe. We’d see the fire, but it’s possible it’s at the root.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered. “Was that yours or my area?” 

“Uhhhhh-” 

“I’m gonna check it out.” 

Determined, you let the radio fall on the table, as you fumbled for another sweater. The knitted fabric slipped over your other sweater, and then you were wrapping yourself up in your raincoat.

“Maybe I should go - it’s slippery right now, it’s dangerous as fuck. You could fall and hit your head, you know. I think it was closer to me anyway, so--” 

“Seungcheol, I already have my coat on, I’m going!” 

And indeed you were going, despite the grumbled protests of Seungcheol. Your coat blew in the hurricane wind as you stood atop the cliff, looking down at the cascading water, that’d all race down to the sinkhole that was Fermata Lake. Through the clouds, there were no stars to trade glances with, not even ghosts.

You fought headwind the entire way, your hair flowing wildly and your coat threatening to unbutton at the will of the blasts. The ground under your rainboots had become mud and the further you trudged into the forest, the more the mud crept up your yellow shoe, slinging over you like liquid ropes. 

“I’m going down the drop off again!” you were screaming to overpower the wind, radio to your mouth before you dropped it into your pocket and retrieved your bag to regather your rope. 

“Be careful!” Seungcheol commandeered bitterly, muffled from your pocket. “It’s slippery as shit! Radio me immediately when you’re down, so I know you’re okay.” 

Even as your face grew wet and sore from the whipping rain, you scoffed. A gloved hand shoved into your pocket, brought the radio back up to your red lips: “Stop being such a pussy!” 

“Say yes, Y/n!” 

You rolled your eyes. “Aye, aye.”

“... I’ll take that, asshole.” 

Wet as a wipe, you slung your rope over the hook and prepared it in a slew of motions you’d by now memorized. Although, you noted your movements were awkward, somewhat impaired by the layers of fabric that encased you. Stubborn, you stood before the hook, grabbed onto the rope, and began walking backwards. 

Your booted foot curled around the edge of the cliffside, and with the tightened rope you began your careful horizontal walk. Raindrops pelted your face like a clenched fist, but you only blinked away the water and tried to focus on stepping carefully down the side of the rockface. 

KRRRRRRRRKKKKKK!

You screamed girlishly when your rope snapped from the hook, and you watched it come flying out over the ledge, before you realized, horrifically, you were already falling. 

It was barely a second, just one blurry image of the weeping sky, before you were on the ground, groaning in pain. A pulsing ache creeped up your spine, and you twisted your body in the mud to put the weight on your side. You sighed into the mud, dirt on your squished cheek. 

The rain was uncaring of your unfortunate situation, as you laid pathetically in the dirt, body scrunching up like an elastic, while your shadow was cast by sudden bursts of lightning. Panting, you pushed yourself up by your arms and felt blindly for your-

Where was your radio? 

Your pocket was deflated and empty, and you scrambled in the dirt, desperately, pushing yourself up completely to scan the area. You noted how the pain subsided into a small, dwindling soreness, thanking whatever God for your layers of clothing and the softness of the earth. 

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision, aided by another strike of lightning atop Aluralura Mountain. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side. 

“Hello? Seungcheol?” 

There was no static to indicate your message had been relayed, and the usual red digital numbers telling you what channel you were on was gone, a simple, black screen remaining, mirroring your muddied face, twisted in anguish. 

“Fuck this,” you hissed, standing up on two legs. You looked back up to where your lookout tower was still ablaze, a yellow box in the heights. The rope was fucked. You had to go down anyway. Huffing, you started walking. 

You marched through the undergrowth, crossing through unpathed forest to reach the destination. It was near a hollow marked on your map, and so the expedition, although scarier, more empty and dark without Seungcheol's warm voice, was mild. 

Wet petals brushed your face from rows of bushes, and even through your gloves the cold left your fingertips numb. You sniffled in the dark. 

You found the hollow, then you found the tree. There was, indeed, ash going up the side of it, seemingly stemming from a smaller bush in the clearing, but the fire had been long put out by the insistent rain, and partially you felt disappointment that you’d trekked all the way out here, only for there to be no real danger. 

Heavier than ever, you turned your gaze to the glowing hut in the distance. 

You almost wanted to go back to your own hut, to turn your back to Seungcheol’s glowing tower and forget this ever happened. The anticipation of seeing him - of him seeing you - was a tall wall to overcome. But, you realized, not only was his tower closer; you also needed help. 

Your radio was fucked, your rope was fucked and moreover, you needed to be sure you hadn’t done irreparable damage to your back. With water dripping over the ledge of your hood, you began walking towards Seungcheol. 

Rainwater cascaded off the edge of the trees and the consistent dashed dots looked like tiny glass orbs in the light of Bay Valley Tower. It was intensely quiet for a while - it seemed like every bush-tailed critter of the forest had scuttered away to hide from the rain and the echoing growling of the sky. 

“Y/n!” 

You were so tired you almost could’ve missed it. Each layer of fabric weighed you down and the dirt smearing your cheeks and hands and fabrics could’ve melted you right into the earth. But indeed, a voice - so familiar it almost hurt - was calling to you in the dead of night.

“Seungcheol?” your first call was not a call, but a whisper, as you peered into the thick grooves of the forest. Then, your senses returned to you and you screamed as loud as you could: “Seungcheol!” 

“Y/n!”

You and Seungcheol called for each other, syllables echoing off the huge, towering presence Aluralura Mountain. Getting closer and then closer, and then you could see the figure of another raincoated person, shaded by a hood.

“Y/n? Oh, thank God!” He ran to you, swimming in the rubber of his red coat and pink lips peeking over the closed hood. 

It was a little paralyzing. He was so beautiful, you didn’t even know which speck of his shadowed face to look at. Tan, wet skin and big eyes from which the longest, blackest lashes you’d ever seen sprung. Most notable were his fuzzy, blocky eyebrows sitting over his brown eyes, fine wrinkles springing from the corners (you’d like to think you’d helped create some of those). His lips were big and bright and pouty, but it was wiped away when he smiled at the sight of you, and you could die, because a dimple indented itself in his cheek at the motion. 

“Are you okay?” his smile faded when you said nothing, only stared at him, and then stared at where his thick fingers wrapped around your arm. He leaned into you and God, you hadn’t seen him before this very moment, and now he was leaning over you and he was so close and he smelled like pinewood, and you were pretty sure you smelt exactly the same. 

You lowered yourself from your daze, trying to follow the pattering of rain atop both of your hoods. “Uh,” you gulped, finding his eyes, “yeah, I jus’... I thought you were joking when you said you weren’t white.” 

His laugh. His laugh was even prettier in person and it had the same rasp and the same disapproving hint to it that it had had at all your other jokes. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Fermata?” 

“Bird watching is crazy, man.” 

He smiled and studied your face for a moment, still leaned over you and thoroughly ignoring the rain and the thunder and the dirt on your boots. Then the smile faded, just a little: “What happened to your radio?” 

“Oh- oh my God! Do you- do you remember my first day? The drop off! I fuckin’- fell down, my rope came undone on the hook! My radio was knocked the fuck out, it was crazy, I’m gonna need a new one-”

“Are you okay? You fell?” Seungcheol’s strong eyebrows became furrowed and the sight was so utterly mesmerizing to you. You waved him off: “I’ll be fine, please, I just want to get out of this weather.” 

Seungcheol did not seem to entirely believe you, but nonetheless he grabbed your hand - in his own rough, used one - and started leading you upwards (“If I don’t hold your hand, how can I be sure you don’t fall down another drop off?”).

Time was not as agonizingly slow by his size, and the tower seemed to propel towards you and the hands on your wristwatch seemed to move backwards. Not before long, you were climbing up the stairway with Seungcheol’s iron fist on your wrist, so as to prevent you from falling down something else (you had a feeling that he would not let this go). 

“I’m gonna make us some tea,” grumbled Seungcheol when you arrived.

“Yes, please,” you murmured. Your coat was folded beside you, starry raindrops soaking into a blanket thrown over his bed. 

It was warm in Seungcheol’s tower house - he had half a brain to put an electric heater in the corner of the room, unlike you - and it was only the sudden embrace of warmth that had you looking out into the park and realizing you would have frozen to death if you’d stayed. 

There was a warm glow from a naked bulb in the ceiling (you guessed Seungcheol had put it up himself), an old rug full of sand-corns, and a shelf with various books. Seungcheol also had a small kitchen, a desk and a bed, just like you. The layout was exactly the same, but sitting down on Seungcheol’s bed, you noted he must’ve made some alterations. Your fingers pulled at the white of the mattress - it was his own and it was much softer.  

When the electric kettle (a rusted, iron old thing) was cooking, Seungcheol turned to you sheepishly and unzipped his coat. You waited in secret anticipation for his supposedly smoking-hot bod, but were disappointed to see another sweater underneath it. 

Seungcheol stopped the kettle and took two large mugs from his cupboard. These, he placed on a carved tray (you thought he might have made it himself from pinewood), and then from a small, wooden tea box on his countertop, he produced two bright yellow tea packets, which he gently placed in the mugs. Then he poured in the water, steam traveling up to open his pores and whatnot. 

“Do you want anything in yours?” he asked, not really looking. 

“Uhm. No, no, thank you,” your hands were folded in your lap. 

He only grunted in response and left one tea untouched, then took a clear, plastic container of honey from an array of unrefrigerated condiments, and squirted half the bottle into his tea. He sniffled when he was done, grabbing the tray and turning to you. Tonight, Seungcheol was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Can you-?”

“Hm?”

“That little- little table over there-”

“What?”

“Can you grab it?- For- for the tray?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

The tea sat on the tray and the tray sat on the foldable table and you and Seungcheol sat before them on the edge of his bed. You took the hefty mug in your hand and took a slurp, looking over at him from the rim. Seungcheol looked at you awkwardly. He did not move for his tea. 

“I should take a look at your back,” he said. 

“What? Why?” you quacked disapprovingly. “You fell on it,” Seungcheol reminded you.

You shook your head silently. “I like your hut. It’s way better than mine.” 

“I’ve been here longer,” Seungcheol shrugged. You looked at him and he seemed displeased - this would not have been a big deal were you speaking to him on the radio, but his aura was much more commanding in person - something about his eyes, you thought. You had to look away, settling on your mug again (there was a cartoon dog on it). 

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmured. Seungcheol stared into the side of your face and his obvious concern for you weighed down at your muscles. 

A gentle pause where rain pattered his roof. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced over, nervously: “Tired.” 

He bit his lip: “Maybe I should’ve made coffee... Can we put instant coffee in tea?” 

“Seungcheol, I wanted to ask you something,” you said and put your mug down on the tray again with a small ‘clink’. Seungcheol rubbed his hands over his trouser-clad thighs, nodding, maybe more nervous than you. The warm glow of the bulb made him even prettier and all was warm and dry in the hut, even though rain was falling down in thick curtains just outside by the troughs. “It’s just..” you began, “you’ve been so avoidant about this.. Jun guy..”

Seungcheol’s sigh interrupted you before you could finish: “He was just the guy that worked here before you.” 

“I found another letter.”

Seungcheol’s furrowed expression softened and he looked at you with big, glassy brown eyes, hidden under a waft of choppy bangs. What was that in the shine of his pupil? Fear? Vulnerability? Sadness?

“It was about- it said he was gonna go be with his mother and that- that he would miss you,” you explained and your voice was snotty and throaty, and your eyes averted to a folded napkin beside a half-eaten slice of bread. A fly circulated it hungrily. 

Seungcheol’s lips made a tight line, dimples poking out pathetically. He cleared his throat and you heard the strain in his vocal chords once more (and it was so real because there he was - right beside you). 

“Me and Junhui came here together. We’d just finished college and we didn’t want-.. We didn’t want to be adults yet. Like, an office job, wife and kids,” he began and there was a tremor about Seungcheol tonight. “I don’t think he was made for a job like this though. I think the loneliness got to him.. Think he just lived with it ‘cause he could tell I liked it.” 

You nodded along until he wasn’t speaking anymore. Then a thick silence absorbed the two of you, a patch of moss drowned in the downpour. 

“His mom was dead, so..” he whispered. Tears gathered at his waterline like a string of stars. “So, yeah, he went to.. To be with her.” 

“I’m so sorry, Seungcheol,” you whispered and the echoing whispers of the storm bouncing off the rock faces of Aluralura mountain beckoned your hand onto his woolen sleeve. “I had no idea.” 

“They never found his body, you know? He’s just out there, somewhere,” both you and Seungcheol turned your heads out to the pitch black expanse of the massive park. Your mind wandered to every crook and crevice you’d seen out there, wondering if a dead body had hidden behind a quarry rock. “Fuckin’ terrified I’ll find him one day. Just… Rotten.” 

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say? Even though you’d stood in a similar situation - losing a friend - you couldn’t find anything that could ease his pain, the pain that was now tinting the light blue and dulling the sound of the rain. The whole room was pulsating. Luckily, it seemed Seungcheol had something more to say. You watched his lips pucker as the words tried to leave his tongue, then watched them draw back. 

“He used to.. He used to say this thing. It reminded me so much of what you- you said that night about, uhm, your friend’s friend. He used to say that- that sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d just be.. Totally.. Convinced that he was at the bottom of Fermata Lake and he was drowning,” Seungcheol’s voice broke one too many times and his jaw clenched. “God, I was so worried. Jus’ thought I couldn’t- I couldn’t be the reason that happened again.” 

“I…” A tear slipped down your face and your hand left Seungcheol’s arm to wipe it, furiously.He turned to you pitifully, the broad width of his shoulders hanging low. “I’m sorry- you weren’t meant to feel that way-”

“It’s okay. I wanted to help,” Seungcheol grabbed your hands in his, a deep frown on his lips. 

You stopped the tears, face burning hot and wet when you looked up at him again, calmed. His thumbs stroked over the backs of your hands. The pads were rough and beaten. 

“Y’know it was sort of the same for me,” you said. Seungcheol waited for you to talk patiently and with a small, encouraging smile, as warmth streamed from his hands into yours.

“Yeah, my- uh roommate - best friend - died. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I found him, like, his hand was just outstretched towards- towards the wall to my room, and he must’ve just lied there while his heart was giving out and I wasn’t there-... And I found him the next morning like that and I thought he was asleep and I left him there. Again. And I just can’t stop seeing him everywhere and for a while I was afraid that he would move, you know, like, start crawling towards me or some shit, but I think now I’m actually more afraid that he’ll never move. I think that’s the joke or whatever, he just won’t move, he’ll just be there the way I left him- and I guess- I guess, I thought I could find some sort of higher purpose out here, but I just can’t.. I feel more as though.. Like, it was these things that took him away from me, these fundamental parts of- existence. Like all the cliffs have evil faces and they want to take me too, and maybe I did want them to take me, but not- not anymore. I don’t know if that makes any sense?” 

You peered up at Seungcheol through your lashes, wet and heavy. He was frowning, hands gripping yours tighter.

“You don’t want them to take you anymore?” he asked quietly. You shook your head. “How so?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it has much to do with me or the park. I think-” you gaze flitted to Seungcheol and he smiled knowingly. You scoffed and smiled too. 

Although you both were fully clothed (Seungcheol annoyingly so), it felt as if all the layers had been stripped away one by one; sweaters and trousers, skin and meat and bones. All there was left were two brightly glowing hearts in front of one another. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered then. “You don’t have to say it.”

You rolled your eyes: “I think it’s because of you.” 

He grinned, wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes and cheeks bunching up in shiny, red fat. You poorly suppressed your own grin and the two of you leaned into each other when your eyes hooked, laughing into each other's shoulders.

“You’re so dumb,” you complained, forehead scratching against the stiff, knitted threads in Seungcheol’s shirt. 

“I think- I think we both jus’ get dumber together,” you could feel his smile into your neck and the hot stream of air that bounced against the skin. 

Right as you were about to pull away, Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around your back and pushed you back into him. You giggled at the motion, but with little thought your own arms wrapped around his back too, and your knees clashed where they met. 

“Seungcheol?” your voice was muffled by his neck. His only response was hum, that ruminated from deep in his throat right by your ear. You pulled away until you were staring at his face. 

Each thick stroke of eyebrow hair, each long, black eyelash and each mole dotted on his softly aging skin was crystal clear then. Your hands wrapped around his biceps and felt your heart buzz at their pronounced carvings under the wool. Seungcheol smiled down at you in a sort of adoring way.

“I think-” you began, then felt stupid, then felt idiotic and cowardly. “I don’t know- I think we should kiss now?” 

It came out as more of a question than a statement. 

Seungcheol gravelled a laugh and his eyes became all squinty and he pursed his lips as if it concealed his amusement in any way at how you squirmed beneath him and your face heated up. 

“I think you’re right,” he nodded and you could barely register the feeling of joy that exploded in your chest, before Seungcheol’s pillowy lips crashed into yours at the same instance as a crack of thunder. 

The lightning was a flickering show to the performance of yours and Seungcheol’s passionate kiss. His lips molded to yours and yours to his, warm and chapped and your hands couldn’t help but wrap around the soft planes of his cheeks - to pull him further, to keep him with you. 

Seungcheol grappled for your hips, and you moaned in a sort of discombobulated agreement, as he, with shocking ease, pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body, stroking and pressing into the meat, left a burning ghostly trail behind it. 

“Can I be honest?” you mumbled in between bitten kisses and panted breaths. “You’re hotter than I imagined.” 

Seungcheol smiled into the kiss at that: “You too, baby. Now you get the real thing, hm? After fucking your sweet pussy thinking about me?” 

You whined in response, hips canting down into his and head dropping into the warm crook of his neck. You licked mindlessly at the skin, rolling your hips into his. Seungcheol groaned and steel hands halted your eager core. 

“Desperate so quick?” he quirked, and you cried out because how could even begin to describe how hot it was that he could entirely still your movements so nonchalantly? You swallowed before you tilted your head from the safety of his neck. 

“I have waited so fucking long for your cock, Cheol. I need it inside me now,” you said seriously, and it was his turn to swallow the rising viscous in his throat, before he nodded and pushed you off his lap to remove his trousers. 

You saw the way the metal of the belt reflected the light, as he (almost angrily) began journeying it off his middle, and you took the hint, beginning to discard your clothes. Your first sweater fell to the floor, then the next followed, and then you were stomping the floor to rid your soaked trousers. Another article of clothing that was soaked - your panties! And embarrassingly so, you thought, watching the slick, wet patch as you lowered the material to the floor. 

Only then did your attention return to Seungcheol, now fully naked in his hut with windows on all sides, and you audibly gasped. 

His torso was one huge slab of muscle and meat. The skin was relatively pale, pronounced pecs and his arms were like tree trunks at his sides. His thighs were fucking huge, indentations of muscles peering through his skin, as he impatiently worked his boxers off. 

He halted though at your gasp, smirking cockily before returning to his work.

“Is it as good as you imagined when you came thinkin’ ‘bout me?” he muttered as his boxers slid down his calf. Too busy staring at his girthy, leaking cock sprouting between his legs, you neglected to answer and Seungcheol continued in a deliberately raspy tone: “Jus’ thinking about your pretty moans, my cock’s aching for you, princess. You’re not gonna come warm it up, beautiful?” 

“Yes-” you stumbled over a treacherous boot, “yes, I am!” 

“Good girl,” Seungcheol rumbled, bemused, as your knees floundered into the mattress and back into his lap. Seungcheol seemed to have other plans, however, because as soon as you had found your footing, and his warm hands were sliding up your back and his neck was craned up to you, breath hitting your breasts, he raised you and flipped you over, so you were digging into the mattress and he was above you. The shadows only served to define the chisel of his arms further. 

His hand slid down your soft thighs, settling in between your legs to run two fingers through your folds. 

“Your pussy is so pretty,” he whispered, somewhat mesmerized at the slick coating his fingertips. You squirmed impatiently and he shushed you, ever so gently: “Shh, baby, I’ll take care of you.” 

Immediately following up on his promise, the two fingers snaked down to your sensitive, pulsing hole, prodding gently. You wiggled and whined, one of your hands (which had been gripping his bedsheets) stopped him at the wrist. He stopped, eyes flitting up to your flushed, shiny face questioningly. 

“I wan’ your cock now. No prep,” you scowled, strands of hair sticking out messily. Seungcheol frowned. 

“I need to-” 

“I’m wet enough, please, been thinkin’ ‘bout this since-..” you cut yourself off with a frustrated sigh, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile at how fucked out you were already, so precious, all beautiful and naked and womanly. 

“You sure?” he asked, voice matching the depth of the thunder. You nodded eagerly: “Please, please-” 

“Okay,” he murmured, sticky hand leaving your burning pussy in favor of pressing it against the underside of your thigh. At the command of his strong hands, your body folded in half and the realization of your position had you crying out pathetically. “Anything for my beautiful baby.” 

My. His. The word choice had you clenching around nothing, all spread out for him while he lined his pretty, red cock up with your entrance. 

“Gonna feel real full in a minute, yeah?” he said absently, watching intently at how your pretty pussy was splayed out and ready and aching for him, mind reeling at the sight of you and the smell of you and how you felt under his hands. 

And suddenly it was there - a mountain of pressure building around the head of his cock as it pushed inside, bursting when he pushed in a little further, until he was fully nestled inside. Seungcheol was not unaffected, body curling over yours animalistically with a deep, throaty groan. You, too, had to squirm and moan wantonly, as your body shone under the bulb. 

“You’re so tight, pretty,” Seungcheol managed, face scrunched up, as his pelvis met your pubic bone. His hands gripped your shaking legs once more, fully folding you in half and you cried as the movement invited him further inside, feeling him brush the spongy spot inside you. 

“Feel s’good!” you moaned, even as he hadn’t moved yet, and Seungcheol’s hands squeezed you in response. 

Experimentally (perhaps fearful, as you had rushed into it without preparation), Seungcheol thrust shallowly and was pleased at your broken cry, so he did it again and then again, and then he was building up a rhythm and your sultry moans were slipping through the cracks of the hut and bouncing off the walls of Aluralura mountain and echoing twenty times over. 

There was nothing sweet about the pace of Seungcheol’s hips. He was pistoning in and out with an impressive agility, huffing over your folded body. It was desperation; the way your nails raked over his back and his sloping arms, and sweet, little whimpers and your pussy choking his cock. 

“Sweetest, prettiest-” he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, stomach caving inwards and clenching. “Fuck, cutest, little princess being stuffed full of my cock.”

“Love your cock,” you babbled, “Love- love your cock, love you.” 

The words slipped out as if they were nothing, but their meaning was solidified by your raking hand sneaking up to his neck and pulling him down into another sloppy kiss. Tongues melding and spit trickling down your chin as he hummed into your mouth in the most wonderful way. 

“Love you, too. Pretty, funny, sweet girl-” 

“A-ah, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you warned, voice nothing but a breath, and your face pleasured, scrunched up in the dead of night. Your stomach was a well of pressure.

“I know, baby, I know. Squeezing me so tight,” he soothed, hands running up and down the plush underside of your thighs, as his hips continued their unrelenting pace. “Come on, cum on my cock.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Seungcheol-” a string of curses and his name followed as your pussy clenched one last hard time and your cum seeped out around his thick, veiny length.

Holding his own orgasm at bay, he clenched his jaw and gritted out: “Where d’you want my cum?” 

“Inside!” you mewled, overstimulated and sore, and legs still pressed to your chest, clammy and slick. 

Seungcheol would’ve made a snarky remark was he not already cumming at your words, white seed painting your insides and spilling out around his softening length. He thrust a couple more times, relishing in the sounds of your fucked-out moans before he’d emptied himself, and he dropped down beside you. 

Due to the nature of a one-person bed, you and Seungcheol were both pressed close to one another, covered in sweat. Your panting, huffing breaths synchronized and you stared into each other's eyes, all wild and blushed. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, brought back to reality by a distant calling owl. You were still in the park, you realized - not some other pleasure dimension like one may have thought. Seungcheol smiled giddily.

You looked out into the wasteland, and your eyelids and limbs (draping over Seungcheol’s big, pretty body) were suddenly heavy. You yawned.

“D’you think we have to stay up anymore?”

Seungcheol watched you gauging the pinelands with starry eyes. “You can go to bed,” he offered gently, “I’ll stay up and make sure the storm’s over.” 

“Are you sure?” you mumbled, but you were already settling into the domes of his chest, closing your eyes. Seungcheol looked at you and thought you were adorable. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can you stay here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Can your dick stay inside me?” 

This prompted a laughter blooming all the way from his chest, where your cheek bunched up against the skin. His arm was wrapped around your back. 

“Sure, baby.” 

You mumbled something like ‘okay’ or ‘good’ or ‘thank you’, and you drifted off into sleep with his arms around you, and when Seungcheol was certain the storm had passed, he nuzzled his head into your hair and dozed off himself. 

At the swimming red sky of dawn, your eyes pried open to see Seungcheol already awake, still wrapped around you. 

Nonchalantly (that is to say: as if your chest was not bursting with glee), you nodded your head over to the window behind him:

“Is that not a black-billed cuckoo?!” 

And Seungcheol thought that maybe you and him could find birds together elsewhere too. 

[cupoftaae]

Growing Pains (KTH drabble)

Summary- You and Taehyung discover the struggles of parenthood as you take on the task of raising your 3 month old daughter, Kiyomi.

Warnings- mentions of postpartum struggles and attachment issues

word count- 1.6k

A/N- Hi guys! so after Ladybug got so much love I decided to make a another drabble to continue their storyline, this takes place months after their daughter is born. Hope you enjoy it!

Taehyung woke up to the sounds of crying. He sat up and looked over at his clock, it was 4:32am, and you werent in the bed.

Groaning, he pushed the covers back and began walking down the hall into his daughters room, finding you on the floor with her in your arms.

"Im sorry we woke you, go back to bed" you whisper, noticing the sudden appearance of your husband in the room. "are you guys alright?" he asked, ignoring your previous demand as he walked further in and sat next to you, eyes still sleepy from the abrupt awakening.

You sigh and gently rock the small baby in your arms as she wailed, becoming frustrated yourself. "she wont stop" you exhale, finally looking at taehyung. "maybe shes hungry?" he suggested, moving his hand to wipe away his baby's tears.

"She wont latch...so I dont think she is...I also changed her and put her in a lighter onesie incase she was too hot" you gesture to the new outfit on Kiyomi, of course taehyung smiled at the ladybug printed fabric.

"let me see her" he whispered, gently taking the frail 3 month old out of your arms. "Hi baby, you giving mommy a hard time again?" he kissed all over her face before pulling her against him, her tiny head resting on his shoulder as his hand rubbed her back.

"im so tired" your hands run over the front of your face, knowing you return to work tomorrow afternoon and not only would you be exhausted, you would be missing your baby.

Since Kiyomi was born, youve been home every single day making sure she was taken care of, of course Taehyung has been an excellent help as well, and you probably wouldnt have been able to do this without him, yet at the same time you couldnt express your fears of going back to work after maternity leave....you didnt want to let him down or make him feel like you didnt trust him. It wasnt ever about trust, it was about going hours and hours without being able to make sure your daughter was okay. What happens if she needs mommy? What happens if she starts to cry and he cant differentiate it from a hunger cry, dirty diaper cry, or a tired cry?

"go back to sleep, i'll take care of her" he yawned and stood up, one hand reaching down to help you to your feet.

"I cant sleep" you sigh, walking over to rearrange her crib and the blankets. "cant we just keep her in our room tonight? she can sleep in our bed" you finish.

Taehyung gently rocked her around as he paced the room, the small cries slowing down. "baby I thought we agreed its better for her to be in her own room, she is gonna be too dependant on us.....and why cant you sleep? you just said you were tired-"

"because I have a list of things I need to do Taehyung!" you turn around, "I have to pump because she didnt want to eat, and I need to make sure you have enough milk for tomorrow, plus extra just incase, and then I need to put my work clothes in the washer because I forgot, then dry them, and you know what?" you throw your hands up as you walked over and took your daughter "shes only 3 months old, theres no harm in having her in our bed, who cares! she wont even remember anyways" you scoff and walk out of the room.

You didnt mean to snap on him like that, in fact you felt bad as soon as you left her bedroom. Taehyung is a great dad and an even better husband, but you still found yourself unable to stay calm when the list of things piled on, you didnt know how everything was going to go tomorrow, and you were stressed.

"hey...Im sorry if I said anything to upset you" he whispered as he finally walked into your shared bedroom, his daughter now asleep on the comforter as you sat and tried to pump milk.

sighing, you turn to look at him. "I didnt mean to act like that...you didnt do anything wrong, im just on edge"

He slowly walked over and sat on the bed next to you, careful of the sleeping baby in front of him. "whats going on, sweetheart?"

You didnt respond right away, instead you shrugged and looked down at Kiyomi, feeling those stupid tears resurface to your eyes again. "talk to me angel..." he rubbed your back.

"I dont want to leave her" you spoke in a choked whisper, wiping your cheek quickly. "What do you mean?" he calmly responded.

"Work tomorrow, I dont want to go....I havent been away from her since she was born. Ive had 3 months but im not ready." you take a breath, gathering your thoughts. "I went to the supermarket yesterday to buy dinner by myself, and almost had a panic attack because I realized she wasnt with me"

"my love, its okay to feel like this you know?" he rubbed your back softly, his chest tightening upon hearing your struggles. "sounds like you might be experiencing some separation anxiety,"

"I wanna work from home" you protest, shaking your head. "I cant leave her, and Its not about you not being a good parent- because you are so good, probably better than me" you chuckle lightly, "I just need it for myself....I need to see her. I spent 9 months taking care of her, I knew where she was at all times, and now that shes actually here I get so worried something will happen"

"i know sweetheart, I know" his hand ran through your hair as you spoke, "If you really want to look for a job that allows you to work from home, i'll support you all the way, you know that....but I really think its important to go tomorrow at least, to tell them about whats going on"

You leaned against your husband, glad he was supporting you in such a vulnerable moment. "why cant I just call them tomorrow?" you sniffle

"because I think its good to just go in, the smaller steps you take, even if its just a day, will probably make things easier for you."

"mm....just tomorrow?" you look at him

"Just tomorrow, then you dont ever have to see that place if you dont want to, you can stay home and i'll pamper you both"

You giggled and shook your head, "no, I wanna work....just not outside the house"

"and I support that" he gently lifted your chin so he could kiss you.

You smiled and kissed him back, watching him carefully as you pulled away.

"You are so beautiful, I swear motherhood made you even more attractive than you already were" he grinned

you raised an eyebrow, looking down at yourself before looking at him, "are you kidding me? I have a suction cup attached to my tit right now, and my hair needs to be washed....dont even try to say I look good" you shook your head as you noticed the bottle was full, taking off the pump and pulling your shirt down as you crewed the cap on.

"Ah you dont see yourself how I see you, the fact you go through so much for our baby is what is beautiful to me, and just for the record, you could never shower again and i'd buy all the nose plugs in the world just so I could be near you and call you cute"

"shut uppppp" you whine and lean against the pillow, "thanks though....fatherhood looks good on you"

"now thank you, but we both can tell that its not physically" he laughed and stood, putting his hands on his belly. "sympathy weight" he patted his stomach, making you laugh.

"Hey, I didnt do that to you!" you retort

"Yes! you insisted that I eat with you every time you had a craving, and what did I do?"

"ate with me" you smile

"yeah, except you were eating and it went to the baby" he chuckled, "mine went to my stomach area"

"hey I think dad bods are sexy" you nudge him

he rolled his eyes jokingly and wrapped you in his embrace, both of you looking down at your finally sleeping daughter.

"next kid, you deal with those cravings alone" he teased, hand gently squeezing you closer.

You smiled brightly at his words, you couldnt handle another child right now, especially with your current mental state, but you knew in the next 3 years you would enjoy having a second baby.

"thats not gonna be for a while bubs, relax" you patted his thigh

"what if she gets lonely" he looks at you

"are you serious" you laugh, squishing his face "shes 3 months, plus she has us, and tannie. I promise she will be well entertained until we have another kid"

He huffed and slouched down, making you giggle.

He sat up and grabbed his phone, turning the video on as he began filming his sleeping baby. "I havent recorded anything in a bit, well thats a lie, I recorded her yesterday when I was playing airplane and she ended up puking on me"

Your giggles are heard off camera before he faces it towards you "Oh its funny huh?"

"shh, youre gonna wake her" you quickly cover the camera to hide yourself before he continues to ramble on about your baby. He's been doing this since that day you both found out you were expecting Kiyomi, and it still warms your heart to see a man so in love with his creation of life.

He was your rock, and she was your ladybug, and perhaps you would be okay after all.

[forwhump]

a/n; some belated robin backstory 🥲 for doughnut, who I promised this to months ago & then FORGOT IM SO SORRY IM JUST AN AIRHEAD I WASNT INTENTIONALLY BEING A DOUCHE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING (I remembered out of nowhere within like ten minutes of finding out liam died so that’s why it took even longer)(I loved 1d 💔)(& bleach finally animated my WORST CHARACTER DEATH so I’ve had a really hard week)(if I was still 13 I’d be institutionalized)

word count: 4k (I only feel like I need to add a word count when these are especially long so idk why everything I’ve posted recently has been especially long that’s my bad 😔)

tw/cw: kidnapping, captivity, implied rape/noncon, drug use, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, medical torture, lobotomies, mentions of the military, passing threats of violence against pregnant women, implied human experiments

When Robin’s a kid, just a couple weeks after his dad dies, his mom brings home a new baby. A girl.

She’s really little but she shrieks at a pitch so loud and so shrill that sometimes it gives him headaches. Other times, it puts him in such a bad mood he has to rip all the sheets off his bed or all the posters down from his walls. She doesn’t really do anything but scream or sleep and still, his mother dotes on her, treats her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

Robin doesn’t get it. He doesn’t even really like her. He’d wanted a brother, anyway.

The baby’s first word is mama, which Robin doesn’t think is all that impressive. Her second word, however, is Rob, and he doesn’t know until he gets home from school and she squeals so loudly it makes his ears ring, clapping her little hands together.

“Rob!” She squeals. “Rob!”

“She’s been waiting all day for you,” his mother says with a smile.

He drops his backpack so he can pick her up, and she squeals again as she clings to him. “Rob!”

He doesn’t even try not to cry because he doesn’t realize he’s started crying until his mother wipes away his tears. After, of course, she takes a picture that she later has framed. A picture that he takes down and hides.

When Robin’s old enough, care of the farm falls pretty solely on his shoulders. He’d been expecting it — man of the house, all that. His sister’s very much a girl, all blonde and giggly, pink and frills, and their mother gets her into pageants when she’s still really small and pageantry comes with a pretty intense base level of maintenance. When mom washes her hair, it’s a whole day event. It’s kind of absurd.

When she first starts trying to follow him out onto the farm, he thinks it’s just to bother him. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s chosen to do something for the sake of being annoying. She asks, then she begs, then she just puts on her boots and tries to follow. When he ends up locking her in the basement to keep her inside, she tries tantrums, then she stomps to their mother and pouts.

“Take your sister with you,” she chastises.

Robin groans loudly. “She’s just gonna get in the way!”

She stomps a small foot and cries, “I can help!”

“No, you can’t!” Robin tells her. “You’re just a baby! And you’re scared of the horses!”

“You can’t tell me what I can’t do!” She shrieks. “I can help!”

“You can’t help!”

“Stop screaming,” their mother says, “both of you.”

“I can help, mama,” she whines.

“She’ll break a nail and throw a fit,” Robin groans.

“I don’t care!”

“You’d better care,” Mom says. “Be careful.”

She brightens, immediately done crying. “So I can go?”

“No,” Robin says, and her face falls again.

“I can help,” she whines. “Let me show you!”

“Let her show you,” Mom says.

Robin groans the whole way out. She skips beside him.

He eats his words, in the end. Even if it’s just to prove Robin wrong, she ends up being a big help. Not with the horses, not at all, but with almost everything else.

Turns out it’s because her motives aren’t to prove Robin wrong at all — she just wanted to get out to the cows. As soon as she’s finished, once Robin’s back is turned, he’s saying something like, “I can’t believe you weren’t totally useless,” and he looks back around and she’s gone, out to pasture. He finds her frolicking with the cows, laughing delightedly.

It’s like that for a few months. She follows him out, helps with actual farm work as quickly as she can, then disappears out to pasture to hang out with the cows. For the rest of their lives there together, in their childhood home, their jobs change; she tends to her cows, and Robin does everything else. It isn’t exactly fair, but Robin had grown up fully expecting to have to do all of it himself.

They settle into their routine, and they stick to it for years.

As soon as Robin’s eighteen, he enlists. He doesn’t hesitate. He’d always known he was going to.

His mom knows. She’s proud of him. He doesn’t tell his sister, because she won’t be.

When she finds out, she throws every plate in the house at him. Breaks every one.

The moon hangs low above the farm, casting everything in watery silver light. She sits on the fence in her boots and a pageant dress, this one so white and sparkly it kind of glows in the moonlight and it makes her look, frankly, like a ghost. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and it looks spectral, a cloud around her.

They’ve been passing a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — she’d won a world title tonight, something that warranted a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — and her ghost is really starting to crack him up.

“You’re being a dick,” she says, but she’s giggling helplessly. “I look so beautiful.”

“I can’t even look at you,” Robin says, and he isn’t lying, turned away as he laughs. “It’s making me mourn.”

She laughs so loudly she almost falls backwards off the fence, and that sets Robin off again.

He leaves next week. Six days exactly, the day after his very last high school exam. He hasn’t told her yet, and he doesn’t want to, especially not now, but he’s running out of time. He can’t leave without saying something, anything, but he’s tempted.

It’s almost like she’s read his mind. “Can I talk to you about something?” She asks carefully, and something in her tone makes Robin’s shoulders tense.

“If you’re pregnant you’re getting thrown down the stairs, girl,” he says. She snorts. “Mom’s gonna be pissed.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she says.

“I’m leaving on Friday,” Robin responds. He doesn’t mean to.

Uncomfortably quick, her face goes blank. “What?”

“Fuck,” Robin says. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”

“What do you mean, you leave next week?” She asks slowly.

Robin looks away, out at her cows. “I fly out,” he says, “after exams.”

“Fly where?” She asks, now completely flat.

He doesn’t look at her, but he tries to smile. “My first tour.”

She doesn’t say anything for such a long time that he finally turns again, he looks at her.

She swings, and her fist gets him hard between the eyes. She doesn’t say another word to him as she leaves, and she doesn’t say goodbye to him before he goes. After that, he didn’t really expect her to.

War is hell.

Men are monsters.

The first time Robin gets to come home, it’s so good to be home. It’s the most unbelievably light thing he’s ever experienced, like taking his first, clean breath. He almost starts to understand the military appeal; the comedown after is the high.

When he gets home, his sister is trying not to be weird around him but she is, very blatantly. He thinks it’s because of how they left things; he’s wrong.

“Can we talk?” She asks, and there’s something so severe in her face that he thinks she’s probably cutting contact with him. It’s kind of a low blow. It stings.

He sits across from her, anyway. Waits.

For a long time, she doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t look at him. She doesn’t lift her head.

“Okay, what’s going on?” He asks finally. “Are you okay?”

She exhales loudly, but her voice is so small he can barely hear her when she says, “yes.”

“Then what’s up?” He probes. “What’s going on? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No,” she says into her hands, “I’m not always pregnant,” and takes another deep breath. Robin waits. He gives her the time she needs, watches the way her shoulders move as she takes deep breaths, watches the way her hands tremble, hiding her face. Robin keeps his voice level and his hands steady and he waits, but he’s waiting for the worst. He isn’t sure exactly what he’s expecting, but he’s expecting it to be bad. He isn’t expecting, “I’m trans, Rob.”

She still doesn’t look at him. She still doesn’t lift her head. Robin says, “what?”

“I’m trans,” she tells her hands.

“Trans what?” Robin asks, and she does lift her head, then.

“What?” She says, like she can’t tell if he’s serious. “Gender?”

“What?” Robin repeats.

“Oh my god,” she says. “I’m a boy, Robin.”

“What?” He says, because he still doesn’t get it. Then, “oh.”

“Yeah,” she says, and — well, he says, actually. He says it, and he drops his head again, covering his face with his hands and the sheet of his hair. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“What?” Robin repeats. He’s gotten himself stuck in a weird loop. He’s thinking faster and a lot more than he usually does. “What’s — why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know,” she says. He says. He’ll get better at that. He’s an adaptable guy.

“Gonna have to stop overthinking,” Robin tells him. “Guys don’t do that.”

His back stiffens. He doesn’t lift his head. “What?”

“It’s why we sleep better,” he explains.

Reluctantly, he lifts his head. He’s always had a deceptively sweet face, kind of doe eyed, but when he looks at Robin he looks so scared, genuinely scared, that it kind of hurts Robin’s feelings. “Rob,” he croaks.

“Can’t doubt yourself like that,” Robin tells him, trying to shrug off the tension, and when he still can’t quite meet his eye Robin stretches a foot out across the carpet to kick him in the ankle. “Guys don’t do that.”

He barely looks at him from beneath his eyelashes, but he looks at him, and that’s progress. “This isn’t a joke,” he says.

“I know,” Robin agrees.

“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m seriously coming out to you right now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees again.

She covers her face again, and — he covers his face again, and it isn’t until Robin really looks that he realizes his shoulders are shaking. That he realizes — “do you have a…name? A new one?”

He hesitates for a long time before finally pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. With a sniffle, he says, “Wren, I think.”

“Wren,” Robin considers. He looks across their mother’s favourite gaudy rug at Wren, tries it on for size. “It suits you,” he decides, and Wren chokes out a sound that’s obviously a sob but that he had tried hard enough to hide that Robin lets it go. “All the names in the world, though,” he says. “You still picked a bird.”

He sniffles again. “We still had to match.”

Robin feels that really low in his chest, a lot warmer than he would’ve expected. “I’ve always wanted a brother,” he says.

When he finally comes home for good, none of the colours are as bright as he remembers them being.

Wren had moved out while he’d been away, and the house is a lot bigger than he remembers it being. It’s too quiet. He can hear too much when it’s quiet.

Wren comes to stay for a few nights, to welcome Robin home, and he brings his girlfriend with him, introduces her. Julie. She’d probably be very beautiful if Robin’s type were outrageously scary people.

All tattoos, everywhere, and piercings studded with diamonds that catch the light whenever she moves. Her hair is like ink and all her tattoos are thick, black, and she looks a lot like Wren’s opposite in a way that’s endearing for a long time. He likes Julie in the beginning; she’s cordial to him.

She’s less cordial over time, slowly but surely. Then comes a time she’s rude, that she’ll snatch Wren’s phone out of his hands to tell Robin to get fucked on the other end. Once, Wren shows up in the middle of the night to post his bail and take him home. He spends that night, then the next few on their couch, and Julie doesn’t say a word to him once. Doesn’t even look at him.

It comes to a head at his mom’s house. He’s there because Wren is supposed to be there, but he never even gets to see him; he only sees his bitch girlfriend, sneering down the doorstep at him.

“I don’t think you like me very much,” he accuses.

“I don’t,” she says.

“Oh.” He already lnew she didn’t, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. That she’s so fuckin’ blunt about it, maybe. “Fuck you, too.”

“You’re a loser,” she tells him, and folds her arms. Robin’s quite a bit bigger than she is, but it doesn’t feel like it then. She’s an imposing little thing. “What’s there to like?”

“Okay,” he says tightly, “you suck, and —“

“You’re a cancer,” she says, “and I want you to leave Wren alone.”

That one hits Robin like a punch in the chest. He almost takes a step back, then pivots, because who the fuck does she think she is? Why should Robin cower? “Fuck you,” he says again. She just raises her eyebrows, smirks, and it’s so smug that it actually makes Robin hot all over. “Fuck you. He’s my brother.”

“Yeah?” She asks, and he doesn’t like her fuckin’ tone. “Because, from where I’m standing, it really seems like that didn’t matter to you all that much until Wren started making a lot of money.”

It makes all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “You have no idea —“

“Did he tell you we had to move?” She asks.

He’s still fuming and it crackles in his ears. “What?”

“Do you remember his apartment?” Julie says. “How excited he was? How much he loved it? But we had to move,” she tells him, “because we couldn’t keep up with it anymore, because such a substantial chunk of your brother’s income goes to funding his junkie brother’s crack habit.”

He tenses his jaw so tightly his teeth click. “You’re a bitch.”

“I’m not kidding,” she says, “and I’m telling you as gently as I think you deserve. You’re ruining his life. Leave him alone.”

Robin tries.

Really, he tries. He does what’s best for everyone and clears out his mother’s purse before making a home for himself in the gutter. He sleeps in the street and sits in the sun during the day, usually high. High if he can help it, anyway.

He sustains it for as long as it takes Wren to find him. He isn’t quite sure how long that is. He thinks he might have lost a lot of time.

Wren looks different. This Wren still has his Wren’s hair, his Wren’s abnormally large eyes. He’s still a pretty boy, but he’s a pretty boy, right? His jaw is a bit more defined. He’s got more angles, sharper angles, less softness and curve. He wouldn’t look out of place in an eighties hair band. How long has Robin been gone? How long has he been sleeping?

“You look good,” he says.

“You look like shit,” Wren tells him blandly.

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, scratching his neck. He accidentally opens a sore he didn’t know was there and scratches a little harder. “Where’s Julie?”

“Left me,” Wren answers.

“Oh,” Robin says, and stops scratching. “Why?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Why do you think?”

He flinches. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Well, y’know,” he says, scratching his forearm, “there’s other fish in the sea.”

Wren’s face falls. Sighing, he looks away, half hidden by his hair. Robin has half a mind to wonder if that’s why he hasn’t cut it. “I can’t do this shit with you anymore,” he says.

“What shit?” Robin says.

“All of this,” he says, but he turns back to reach out towards Robin and forcefully pry his hands away from the sides of his face. “And stop fuckin’ pickin’ your face.”

Contrarily, Robin’s skin doesn’t stop itching so he doesn’t stop scratching.

Wren doesn’t stop taking care of him, either.

For a while, Robin has a really good thing going, honestly, and there’s something comforting about being at home again with his mom and his brother. He doesn’t notice, for a long time, how much it eats away at Wren, because it eats away at him so slowly. He gets quieter.

Five months after Wren decides he’s done taking care of him — and takes care of him, still — Robin clears all of the big bills out of his wallet before he wanders out onto the farm to grovel and ask to borrow a measly fifty bucks. He never quite makes it that far.

The cows are out, so it isn’t hard to track Wren down, but Robin never quite makes it over to him. He’s sitting in the grass, back against a fence post. Daisy has her head in his lap, and he’s got a hand between her ears, but it’s still. He’s staring off into nothing. It looks like he might be crying.

And that makes Robin so dreadfully uncomfortable he turns right back around and goes inside. Because that’s probably a little bit his fault, right?

He doesn’t leave then, but he notices it more. Wren stares off into space a lot. Cries when he doesn’t think anybody else is around. Never mentions to Robin all the money that vanished from his wallet.

Robin leaves a week later.

It takes Wren three months, this time, to track him down.

Robin’s been sleeping on the floor of an abandoned apartment building, and it’s kind of surreal, waking up to Wren, cross legged on the floor with him. It’s a relief to see him. “Can I b-borrow a c-couple bucks?”

The way Wren looks at him makes him miserable. He tells Wren it’s their mother, it’s the way mom looks at him, and it is, to a degree. His mother still looks at him like she’s proud of him, her son the soldier, her son the patriot, but the way Wren looks at him is worse. Wren’s disappointed in him, and that could almost make him throw up.

He’s trying to get Robin to come home, to get clean, and Robin’s trying to get some money out of him. He’s having a hard time focusing, he’s shivering, but not with cold, with a sort of fever that makes his skin crawl too tightly over his restless bones. When the door explodes open, Robin registers it a second after it’s already happened. The soldiers he doesn’t even see until they’ve already swarmed the room, covered every exit, pulled Robin to his knees by his arms and his hair. They knock his blanket loose, and he shivers until one of them grabs Wren by his braided hair, wrenches his head back, points his gun.

Not everything comes into focus, but it tries. This is really happening and this is really bad.

Their captain is a big guy that looks more like the Hollywood movie version of a soldier than a soldier. He has an arrogance to him that puts Robin on edge, that he’s only ever seen in very dangerous, very powerful men. The way he looks at Wren makes Robin sick.

When he knocks Wren unconscious, it’s with a wet cloth and a gloved hand over his mouth.

Robin begs. He hasn’t been above begging for a long time. The way the captain is looking at Wren — he’s seen what happens to people who get looked at like that.

And this is Robin’s fault.

This is all his fault.

It makes him think of Julie. He can’t remember the last time he saw her, or even the last time he really thought about her, but he thinks of her now. You’re ruining his life, she’d told him once.

She was right.

For a long time, he’d been ruining. Now, it’s in ruins at his feet. And it’s all Robin’s fault.

They try to make him watch, but he struggles and vomits himself into unconsciousness.

They take him to a weird, grey place tens of minutes below ground. They give him weird, grey clothes and they throw him into a weird, grey prison.

Wren isn’t there.

He meets Hal, and he meets June, and he begs them, too. They have to know something, anything. Maybe they heard one of the soldiers say something, even in passing.

They look at him like he’s crazy. They don’t even believe him.

Robin spends his first week in his weird, grey prison completely hysterical. Then a couple of men, dressed almost liked orderlies but masked, all in black, come to haul him away, kicking and screaming. They drag him through this weird, grey hellscape to a surgical room from a nightmare, entirely black. They strap him down to a black surgical table. The surgeons that hover around him wear black masks and caps and gloves.

One of them takes a long, black needle. He holds it up, into Robin’s field of vision, before he turns the point into the inner corner of his eye. “This will probably hurt,” he explains, “but you won’t think to complain.”

“What the fuck?” Robin shouts. He thrashes, but he’s restrained to that table so tightly he can’t turn his face away, not even an inch. “What the fuck! Get the fuck away from me!”

“This will make your development easier,” another says. He speaks with the slow, flat voice of an old movie mad scientist and Robin’s heart physically aches in his chest. Never, not once in his life, has he been so scared it’s made his heart ache. “It’s in your best interest.”

“Get the fuck away from me!” Robin screams.

But he’s still. He tries to thrash, to turn away, and he can’t. He can only watch that needle close in on his eye, and scream as it pierces it.

He screams until he can’t.

[slasherflicks999]

BEN MY BELOVED 😍😍😍😍 ……BENloved? yes……

FIIIIINALLY made an actual proper design for him after eons of not being able to get his outfit right guys are we proud….. i always had a vague idea of it i just could never execute it properly LMAO

I LOVE HIIIIIIIIMMMMM did you guys know

i also almost forgot his freckles as i do literally every single time i draw him despite the fact ive been drawing him covered in freckles since i was like 14 ummmm its fine i remembered eventually 😍

more rambles and yapping about him in my au after the break :3 again… I YAP A LOT. like seriously. i really could talk about him all day tbh

but first surprise doodle HEHEHEH

moving on… lets talk about his design a little to start off bcccc look at it it’s the first thing you’ve seen obvi (and bc im doing this in a similar format to my oc slasher’s post where i ramble about the design then character and personality stuff then whatever else yay!)

now. you may be looking at him and going “woah he is COLORFUL!” yes he is! i think having him be colorful is fun but beyond that like… ok u need some context first: in my au he’s not stuck in the cartridge anymore which i will elaborate on later, but likeee i still had to give him some nods to his LoZ origins other than just making him blonde and giving him elf ears and green clothes without literally making him the world’s most dedicated link cosplayer. love his cosplay era you go queen but i just feel like MY version wouldn’t be in it after he gets out of the cartridge (again will explain more later) bc he figured maybe he should be his own person a little bit. and idk if yall knew this but… zelda games get pretty colorful!

that being said i still wanted to have an itty bitty nod to it thrown in there so if you look on his jacket those fun little doohickeys on one of the sides are the colors of the spikes on the side of majora’s mask in game :3 i also gave him his little hoop earrings like adult link has because cmon. he’s gotta have em. and beyond just that he also has the green hair and like… idk what to call em, those fun little ball jointed doll looking joints i see people draw canon arg BEN with because i like them and since he’s sort of a merging of canon behavioral event network BEN and a more “fanon” version of him i wanted to nod back to it a little

beyond that he’s just a lot more generally technology inspired, like he’s literally wearing wires as accessories and those semi-transparent bits are supposed to look like the inner membrane of a keyboard! (saw some guy make shoes out of those once and said “oh i gotta use that idea” so i did :3) idk i just wanted him to look fun and like he eats circuit boards. he doesn’t but like… he’s definitely thought about it once

anyway MOVING PAST ME YAPPING ABOUT MY DESIGN THOUGHT PROCESS let’s talk about what he’s actually like!

i feel like it’s pretty often i see people make him either totally spooky or totally silly but you see…. i enjoy both…. so….. :3 let’s see if i can merge the two

generally when writing any of the pastas i try my best to write them ALL to be more or less morally gray largely bc i think it makes them more interesting than just making them all automatically evil just because they’re meant to be horror characters/murderers. idk i feel like it adds more complexity not only to them as individuals but also dynamics and makes them feel more like actual characters than static entities that jump out at you and go BOO! or on the other side of the spectrum anime twinks. staring directly at the 2010s fandom LMAOOO /lh

WITH THAT BEING SAID! he is definitely not a saint in any sense of the word like whatsoever but he also is not super evil. like he’s not always gonna have good intentions but at the same time he’s not entirely heartless and does genuinely care about some people yk?? he’s not walking around punching old ladies or anything but is he gonna go out of his way to be particularly nice to you? hell no he’s not! not unless he REEEEEALLY cares about you/likes you but even then you might not be able to tell LMAO it depends it depends

even then at the end of the day he is more or less a demonic entity and LITERALLY feeds off of negative emotions/energy, like he will become genuinely exhausted if he doesn’t torment tf out of someone for a while, he doesn’t just do that shit for funsies, he needs to or else he will feel like total shit. just so bad. not to say he doesn’t gain ANY enjoyment out of it at all but like that’s not his main motivation.

that’s the thing that makes him different from a lot of other pastas too, his method of killing isn’t anything physical, he just literally torments the living shit out of people until they kick the bucket themselves. at this point he’s rather numb to and detached from it, but i imagine it definitely disturbed him quite a bit when he was figuring out that he had to do it to keep himself satiated essentially. he definitely freaked himself out quite a lot when he was freshly dead like yeah he was angry and vengeful but like… he was also kinda just a scared little kid who got stuck in a video game and saw himself as a monster for a few years guys 💔💔 probably still kinda does view himself like that in many ways. my shaylaaa…

speaking of let’s talk about his LORE :3

first of all present day he is 19. but he’s dead! you shout. yes he is! kinda! lemme explain:

well first and foremost for all intents and purposes he IS dead. but he’s also not JUST a ghost. remember how i mentioned him being demonic? yeah i wasn’t exaggerating about that LOL, plus if he WAS just a ghost he wouldn’t need anything to keep himself satiated like he does with energy

when he died he ended up being the moon children’s first successful instance of actual digitization… key word being SUCCESSFUL. they had tried the same thing before with others, but their actual souls ended up not being able to entirely make it through the process, with some not getting through at all and others being sort of fragmented with only the scraps of what they used to be remaining. even so, all of their heartbreak and pain and anguish and rage they felt in response to their deaths (and probably even whatever they had experienced in life) ended up forming its own makeshift demonic entity. it was all sorts of unstable and constantly seemed to be searching for more and more energy to even keep itself together, but it didn’t have anything to truly attach itself to that make it much more than just a mass of jumbled up energies desperately trying to survive. until ben died. then it had something it could keep itself alive with. it had a body, more or less. something more tangible and stable than just… fragments.

this ended up being what turned ben lowercase into BEN uppercase! it also… came with lots of side effects.

we already talked about how he needs to keep getting negative energy to keep his literal energy up, but this sort of fusion also made him a LOT more powerful than he was supposed to be. he’s essentially fueled on spite LOL but besides that he also was able to literally warp a lot of the game to his will (not entirely, but he wasn’t supposed to be able to change anything at all), the soul fragments gave him the ability to control his aging and parts of his appearance more or less (he can appear as practically any age he wants but mentally ages normally, though he really doesn’t do much with that and just lets himself age normally because he kind of doesn’t wanna stay a weird little middle schooler forever LMAO. his ability to control his appearance is also pretty much entirely out of his control until he escapes the cartridge though, before that he can only really change how his eyes look and his general spookiness though even that was and still is mostly connected to his emotional/mental state.)

he also suddenly gets VERY good at just… understanding how people work in general. he gets really good at the whole manipulation and torment thing really quickly to the point where it even starts to freak himself out a bit (sort of like i mentioned before.) he tries not to dwell on that for too long though. he does his best to get used to himself now even if he really did not like how he turned out at first.

but anyway shortly after all this happens and BEN figures out he needs to really fuck with people to feel at least kind of okay, the cartridge began having so many horrible mental effects on anyone who was even AROUND it that eventually they just had to throw the thing out as a sort of “failed experiment” which explains how it eventually got into the hands of jadusable who posted about it and that in turn essentially opened a door for BEN to get out.

this was great for him in many ways! freedom yippee yippee freedom! he was much, MUCH less limited in his abilities now and had a lot easier access to new people to torment which generally had him feeling a lot better energy-wise and eventually made him a lot less aggressive since he wasn’t essentially hangry and exhausted 24/7. that being said… he was still trapped in the cartridge for about 3 years. that does things to a person. especially since he was so young.

he has a LOT of trauma from it, which is another reason i didn’t go with the link cosplay route for his design beyond just i wanted to give him a personality outside of just loving zelda games (although let’s be honest it probably is still a special interest of his (YES HES AUTISTIC because i am autistic and me and him are like this 🤞🏻)) he was literally STUCK looking like that which is the main reason he gave himself his own wardrobe basically the second he could, because he still loves link and the LoZ games and all but he didn’t wanna feel stuck like that anymore. it made him feel trapped and lose his sense of self a little bit so he was like “yeah i gotta get a different outfit.”

it also definitely made him a control freak. if he doesn’t have at least a good amount of control over a situation it sort of freaks him out and gives him that same sort of trapped, helpless feeling. he gets a little better with it as he grows but that never really goes away, he hates feeling powerless in any situation which i think also helped him come to terms with the whole tormenting people thing, because it made him feel like he had power over something and it still does even if there’s a lot more he has control of now. this is also why he’s not technically a proxy, because he doesn’t want slender to have that control over him, it makes him feel weird. he still hangs around and is civil with him, he just doesn’t wanna actually work for him. he’s his own boss 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

he doesn’t really like to talk about his life before his death all that much though. all that anyone seems to know is he didn’t have a great childhood after a certain age and he just doesn’t wanna talk about it, which of course nobody questioned because almost all the pastas had at least somewhat traumatic childhoods LMAO

anyway! now that a lot of the more serious lore shit is out of the way time for me to just mindlessly throw shit out there about him because!! i love him!!!! fun facts fun facts!!!

- first of all agender he/it/they BEN is real in this house. and gay aroace BEN. and autistic BEN as previously mentioned. he doesn’t know if this is because of the soul fragments thing but he really could not care less about how he presents his gender for the most part, all he knows is he generally presents masculine bc it’s sort of his default :3

- he also still def loves video games! he’s even played through majora’s mask a couple times to try and help himself get over his trauma around it (though it takes him a long time to actually get through it now) he kinda hates that his trauma still prevents him from loving it as much as he used to :(( but at least he can play the other zelda games mostly fine which he’s glad about

- he purrs. that’s it that’s the whole thing he purrs. well he generally acts like a cat in a lot of ways for some reason like his ears moving and stuff but i think the best thing is that he purrs bc it’s just so funny to me. he definitely tries not to do it in front of anyone but has probably slipped up once or twice and promptly retreated into the nearest computer for a week or so because he was so mortified LMAO. very cat coded one of my own cats reminds me of him a little bc she’s sassy will act like she doesn’t care about you but then will purr up a storm if you scratch her in the right spot while she’s comfy. love her. they would get along great

- he is SO COLD. ALL THE TIME. he’s used to it by now but if you were to touch him it would be like touching a corpse laying outside on a late autumn evening or something like he does not know warmth. he does love blankets and warm things bc of that though. if he likes you enough to give you a hug he WILL be latched on like a leech just to take all ur body heat

- he can still eat and drink and sleep if he wants to but he doesn’t have to, like i said he runs off of negative emotions so all that other stuff is just a fun little bonus if he feels like it

-his colors will desaturate a good amount and he’ll start to glitch out quite a bit if he gets too low on energy, along with just being generally irritable and overstimulated

-he also just… glitches sometimes for no reason. any time he stutters or stumbles over his words he doesn’t actually stutter, just glitches. sneeze? glitch. got jumpscared by a bug? glitch. trying not to laugh? glitch. little things like that. along with just when he’s feeling really strong emotions (especially negative ones ofc)

- he actually does like nature a lot! it sort of helps him feel a lot more connected to reality outside of just the internet and technology and whatnot, plus he just finds it kind of peaceful in a way he can’t really get from hanging out in a digital void. maybe it’s the energy of the plants and animals or something

- he also enjoys music a lot :3 all sorts, though he does like electronica and hardcore stuff the most

-i cant lie…. he would definitely scream at people over COD. his temper isn’t AS short as it used to be but likeeee… he’s broken a few controllers 😔 he’s not really the yelling type at all otherwise though

-he’s like 5’7 ish by default. he can change that if he REALLY wanted to but he doesn’t see the point in wasting the energy if he can just float a couple inches above the ground anyway. plus he got his heels on so even if he does stand on the ground he gave himself a couple more inches of height :3 me too me too

-he does still cry blood! happens the most when he’s pissed off or trying to look scary but it will happen if he’s genuinely sad and like legit crying too

-he won’t let many people know it but he’s really claustrophobic (it means he’s afraid of santa claus 😯☝️ /ref) definitely scared of large bodies of water as well but that one’s more well known because…. he did DROWN. actually just realizing i didn’t mention his actual drowning much but anyway i feel like that would have less of a daily impact on him than the rest of his trauma anyway. stills definitely there but doesn’t directly impact him in as many ways

-my au probably takes place in like the mid-late 2000s but if it was in the modern day he would totally say shit like “chat am i cooked” or “that’s so sigma” in real situations on accident

i could talk about him literally for hours upon hours but im gonna stop here before i give myself an aneurysm LMAOOO thank you so much for reading all my nonsense rambles if you did!! :D very very much appreciated i WILL be posting more about him in the future hehe

i hope anyone who read this far enjoyed!! :D i definitely had fun writing hehe but im so tired and i now have to go to BED😭😭😭 thank you so much again tumblr for letting me yap🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[romandaandromeda]

the amazing circus of not real episode 2:

[SPOILERS OF PARODIC NATURE AHEAD]

[buttonblossom shipping art at the end too in other news]

pomni: i am going to die a nobody because i [%$!#]ed up bad yesterday

ragatha: pomni

pomni:

ragatha: :(

caine: go to the candy place and catch some varmints

bubble: https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~biglou/resources/bad-words.txt

zooble: no

ragatha: pomni

pomni: uh

IN CANDY WORLD

everyone: this place looks awesome

[happy gangle dies]

princess loolilalu: hello youre all welcome here :)

ragatha: pomni (positive)

pomni: (negative)

ragatha: :(

princess loolilalu: you have to get our syrup back

ragatha: you got it

jax: i hope nothing but death and gore and violence and all that is unholy in the eyes of god happen today

jax: by the way gangle [%$!#] you

ELSEWHERE IN CANDY AUSTRALIA

gummygators: we gotta stop these guys from taking our rightful syrup

jax: i have a gun let’s kill these guys

gangle: lets not do th

jax: i have a gun let’s kill gangle

ragatha: pomni

jax: yeah pomni be useful for once

[he throws her out of the magical semitruck that i forgot to mention and gets wedged between the syrup truck and the semitruck, conflict ensues]

jax: i’ve really gotta let out my violence pomni be a dear and just keep cool

pomni: i hate you

[pomni gets unstretched]

jax: well look now i cant do my violence thing

gummygators: lets throw them off our trail

jax: lets kill them

[chase scene continues]

jax: lets kill them

ragatha: BUT POMNI

jax: gangle (specifically) lets kill them or i’ll blackmail you

gangle: 😃

[the gators freaking stab the semitruck and impale ragatha]

kinger: i will save the day and pomni

[he throws an anchor]

jax: :|

[the semitruck falls into chocolate river]

jax: you are responsible for every tragedy and atrocity ever committed in history i don’t know why anybody even trusts you anymore

gangle: :(

[pomni and gummigoo clip into the blue void of nonexistence]

IN THE BLUE VOID OF NONEXISTENCE

[gummigoo discovers he’s not real]

gummigoo: what is going on

pomni: uhm

gummigoo: what are we in the end

gummigoo: are we even real

gummigoo: what (philisophical)

BACK IN CANDY WORLD

[the gang are alright]

ragatha: i hope pomni’s okay

jax: could you literally shut up about pomni and focus on the now

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: im gonna eat you

ragatha: dont actually

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: oh man im sorry

jax: what the heck are you anyways

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: im the fudge and i eat people which is why i got banished to this river

ragatha: dear god

jax: you’re actually the coolest thing i’ve ever experienced (ragatha you have licorice hair)

ragatha: >:(

jax: i’ll help you get back into the kingdom if you help us

[the 2 remaining gummygators fall right into the chocolate river]

BACK IN THE BLUE VOID OF NONEXISTENCE

[pomni attempts to get a truck moving]

pomni: are you alright

gummigoo: no i’m literally just a puppet

pomni: i feel you man

gummigoo: we’re fake things for your crew to stop every time

pomni: well you still have your crew up there and you care about them like they do you right

gummigoo: why does this matter

pomni: because nobody should go through this at any point

gummigoo: well then let’s get ourselves out of this mess

pomni: we gotta get the truck to glitch out again

[so they do exactly that and have a bit of a moment in the teapot zone]

BACK IN CANDY WORLD

jax: well this sucked

gangle: why

jax: i wanted to kill people

ragatha: so they’re just gone

the 2 remaining gummigators: yeah

ragatha: right

kinger: well caine could find her easily

ragatha: yeah but she could be suffering and she isn’t fond of me after what happened yesterday

kinger: dont let it get to you maybe she’s just adjusting to this word like you did when you were new

ragatha: true

kinger: huh

[pomni and gummigoo burst out of the ground and kill the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie by landing at mach 1 on him]

ragatha: POMNI

pomni: hi and i made a friend

[both gangs agree on taking the two syrup trucks on their own ways]

jax: https://youtu.be/rPKN7-pTpCY?si=YtSnNuJD1hlICZ1G

ragatha: maybe next time

jax: shut the [%$!#] up maybe

pomni: btw this is gummigoo and he’s joining the circus

ragatha: sounds good to me

jax: SHUT UP

princess loolilalu: you saved our kingdom

princess loolilalu: have fun killing that gator

pomni: yeah (sarcastically)

[that scene when the tripod emerges in war of the worlds 05 but with the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie happens off screen]

jax: hehe

ragatha: WHAT DID YOU DO

princess loolilalu: no seriously what did you do

jax: bye

BACK IN THE DIGITAL CIRCUS

caine: welcome back everyone

gummigoo: this place is nice

caine: oh

[gummigoo perishes]

caine: just a precaution

[pomni loses her mind]

caine: okay bye

zooble: good riddance

ragatha: well maybe he’ll return some day

[the gang without jax hold a funeral for kaufmo]

[genuinely a pretty emotional scene and pomni feels assured]

THE END

in summary for fellow buttonblossom shippers:

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Hi hey hello halloween was 2 days ago so here are my southpark halloween headcanons cuz im a spooky gremlin all year (Possible part 1 cuz i write alot and idk if tumblr has a word limit)👍

Cartman:

His costume is either really extra or really basic because he forgot until last minute.

Its usually inflateable like a dinosaur, pizza or...other things.

Usually the one to pick the route they go on when trick or treating so he can get the most candy, but it backfires because of all the walking.

The type of mf to eat his candy while hes out trick or treating (me too, i get it)

He steals the entire take 1 bowl you cant change my mind. Also the type to grab aggressive fistfuls when someone says to just take one or two pieces of candy

Thinks haybales and haunted houses are gay

Will throw fake decorations at you as a joke, but the realistic ones that make you yell (severed hands, bugs, etc)

His house isnt that decorated since i KNOW Liane is the cool mom who gives out full sized candy bars but its the inside that counts

Takes pumpkin carving VERY seriously. But doesnt do that much, or he tries and gives up.

A dumbass when it comes to candy trading. Always falls for the tricks Kyles got

Kyle:

I love kyle, but you know hes dressing up as the most basic things every year...hes TRYING THO HES TRYING

Takes Ike with the boys when hes old enough

Tries to match costumes with Stan but stan always forgets

The BEST at carving pumpkins. Gut feeling Kyle is an art kid.

Thinks haybales are gay but is "ironically" scared of haunted houses

His mom is extra with decorations. You just know it

Secretly takes 3 pieces of candy from a take 1 bowl

Gives what he cant have to Stan since he cant eat pork n gelatin has pork in it 👍

Cartman tried nabbing his candy once and he whacked him with the candy filled pillow case he had

Expert candy tracker. That man knows which house has what and he is ON IT

Nightmare before christmas enjoyer, will i explain? No

Stan:

Hes like Kyle with the basic costume thing, just worse. Way worse

He is a ghost...almost every single year cuz he forgets to go costume shopping and he just says "fuck it" and uses a white bedsheet

Takes what he can get; he knows Shelleys gonna steal his shit anyway

That doesnt stop him from trying to hide it

Likes haybales but TERRIFIED of haunted houses he will NOT get in one

Mediocre pumpkin carver at best

His house aint decorated nor does it have candy cuz of randys ass. Forgetful ahh

Kenny:

Cant really afford costumes so stan, kyle and cartman help him DIY costumes

Also the kind of mf to grab the entire take 1 bowl

Makes it his MISSION to get all the candy he can get

Kinda eh on Haybsles, LOVES haunted houses

His house is never decorated, his family cant afford that

Good at candy trading cuz he can do puppy eyes

Really good at pumpkin carving, he just cant be the one getting the pumpkins.

Horror movie FANATIC!!! HE LOVES HORROR MOVIES!!!

He dies a lot that day very sad for him

Butters:

Rarely aloud to go out trick or treating, mans is ALWAYS grounded

When he CAN go out he cant ever stay out late which sucks so much

His costume is always something cute/creative, bro would probably go as like, an oc of his one year (projecting so hard i did this in the 4th or 5th grade)

Gets people to check his candy for him, hes scared of getting hurt or poisoned

Wants to go to the houses that have fruit or toothbrushes. It always goes like:

"Can we go to Ms Firkles house?" "The one that gives out apples?" "Yeah!" "Fuck is wrong with you?"

Loves Haybales, thinks theyre so fun

TERRIFIED of haunted houses, will not even STAND in a 100 ft radius of a haunted house

Flinches/Cries/Screams whenever a halloween decoration jumpscares him or is too loud

Horrified of horror moves

Not allowed to carve pumpkins, too dangerous. But he likes painting them!

Obeys the "take 1/2/3" rule like a good boy

His house is decently decorated, nothing extravagant

Craig:

Oh you know he is a "this is my costume" mf

Either that or something space related

Always the first in front in his group (Tweek, Tolkien, Clyde, Jimmy and Himself) cuz hes pretty unphased by everything

Loves carving pumpkins, him and tweek do the cute pumpkin carving stuff couples do

Cant eat most of the candy since he has braces, but he gives it to Tweek so its not a waste

Will hold Tweeks hand during horror movies, haunted houses and haybales.

A six flags fright fest enjoyer

This mf will look you dead in the eye and pour an entire bowl of candy into his bag if there arent any cameras or signs

The kind of mf to joke inside a ghost tour and purposefully try to piss off the ghost by flipping it off

The most undecorated house ever. Its like halloween doesnt exist to the Tuckers

Tweek:

He buys cool costumes but his makeup is so shaky and rushed since his ass cant sit still

Chugging pumpkin spice like a maniac

Terrified of any and all halloween activities. Jumpscare him and he will scream

Doesnt take candy from people or bowls, he stands awkwardly behind everyone and investigates his candy thoroughly before putting it in the bag

Either that or he'll have craig triple check it

His house is always decorated since Tweek Bros always has halloween specials and stuff

Does not sleep for the entire month of halloween, he survives on pumpkin spice and pure anxiety

Helps around the coffee shop by refilling candy bowls and doing halloween chalkboards (they look like scribbled messes but whatever)

The middle man in the group, he doesnt feel safe in the front or back

Carries Pepper spray with him when trick or treating, always very cautious to the point his friends grill him for it a little. Better safe than sorry

Clinging onto Craig half the night, the insomnias getting to him

Legally not aloud to carve pumpkins. He will accidentally knick his fingers

Loves halloween baking though, he does burn at least something and panics.

Clyde:

Oh you know hes the kind of mf to dress up like the glow in the dark stickman

Grabs aggressive handfuls of candy regardless of if its from a bowl or person

An absolute crybaby. Will cry when he sees the decorations

They cant decorate his house since hes a baby

Likes the pumpkin carving tho!

Always runs to thr house with full sized candy bars

Jimmy:

He is def going as an inflateable t rex/banana

Tells more jokes to people in hopes of getting more candy

Carves a wee wee into his pumpkin. He thinks its funny

Pretends to be scared on haybales to make Clyde feel better

His house is the one with custom decorations its so great

Scary movie enthusiast, joking and calling the characters dumb the whole time

He. Fucking. Loves. Frightfest

Hc that when hes older hes a scare actor part time

Admires the decorations

Tolkien

Bro probably got like, a ren faire costume yk? Like a count or something

Tolkien just seems likke the guy to go to ren faire every year

Expert pumpkin carver

Takess his friends to halloween fairs every year

The most overdecorated house (rich kid core)

Always saying the thank yous and happy halloweens when noone else will

Bro printed out a map of their trick or treat route

He takes some of his friends to ren faire too. Craig thinks its gay as shit

Likes the haybales, and the shit rides at the halloween fairs

Creeped out by haunted houses tho

[starsoftheeye]

TMagP 17 Reaction

Pre-Episode

I've discovered that acting disinterested literally makes the episodes show up earlier on my youtube account, so I've gotta play mindgames on this app every thursday to get to see the episodes less than half an hour after they release lol

Pre-Statement

Ah Celia is back on her bullshit

Wait did she just nearly get ran over???

I feel bad for laughing at her but her only reaction being "Oh for gods sake" is super funny to me how long has she been doing this

oh hi sam

oh god she missed their date :[

something tells me a habit is going to be made of this, especially considering she literally cannot help it

"it really wasn't" yeah no wonder you nearly became roadkill

theyre so cute i love them

ooh shes mad

Statement

"catalyst" huh, have we heard that before or is this the first time

pfft not the interviewer getting read to shreds

wild theory before i keep going, based on the title "saved copy" and the "identity crisis", "existential horror", "temporal distortion" and "captivity" tags, im going to assume that this person going to therapys having the details of their life copied somewhere for something to replicate and replace them, and the doctors gonna attempt to get rid of them but obviously it didnt work. either that or the guy outside the office does something

as someone whos never done meditation before this is not encouraging me to start

ah office spaces, the worst of cosmic horror

wait did they get teleported or something

tbf if my taxi driver started driving completely the wrong way i'd assume the worst and start "exchanging words" too

oh my god was i right

wait is this copy based on their therapy, a version of themselves with no problems whatsoever? and is this gonna be a "there can only be one" type scenario?

oh wait no i forgot siblings exist

wait nvm them having the same name is weird

"dates and times" so this is where the temporal distortion comes in ig

yup

i'm sticking with the "rich-darrien is a copy trying to assimilate into og-darriens life" theory for now

yeah because thats not normal darrien, even if youre related no-one looks completely identical apart from glasses, teeth colour and a lack of a beer-gut

do they both think the other is the copy, or does sharron just not know?

oh god what is he hiding

does he beat up a real person every time hes upset

of course it was his father that makes sense

oh my god the sound design

oh my god he's the one who assimilated thats so cool

good for sharron i hope shes doing okay

off-topic but i love the way the voices get more real as the statement goes on then go back to their more robotic tone at the end

Post-Statement

as a celia fan i am eating well this week jeez

celia my dear what do you mean by that "not exactly the same though, it is?" girlie what have you done what are you hidinggg

alice!

who was playing the music in the background there?

as someones whos computing department in school consists of keyboard with never-before-discovered types of bacteria wedged between the keys thats valid

alice dyer i love you so much

ah the dyhard is dyharding

ah yes the mutual "i'm traumatised and i know you are too but i don't like you enough to give details on mine or ask about yours so we'll just sit and suffer in silence til the ice somehow breaks" dynamic

also colin mention woohoo i love the scottish man

the computer start up noise and power down noise at the beginning and end of every episode kind of makes me think that someone is watching all of this (maybe us, or more likely someone in-universe)

anyway that was fun, i'm doing this late but this was a nice way to spend my first proper off-day since finishing all my exams

[azumasoroshi]

minidura chapter 4 react

simon i SWEAR ill get you out of there and that horrendous art style

also though. TEENAGE SHIZAYA CHAPTER LETS GO???? idk if narita made the minidura or if it's a separate illustrator but they are giving the FOOD rn

i was wondering where the official knowledge that simon forced izaya and shizuo to eat sushi together came from. i mean i guess this isnt official and it was probably stated in the anime somewhere but still, good to see it illustrated pff

AAAAAAAAA ive seen this image around tumblr but i didnt realize it was from minidura 😭 i thought it was fanart or smth (<-dumbass)

wait im actually going crazy over this akwjhkjdshs they're washing dishes together!!! now we just need them to do laundry and taxes and-

im going to go over the image limit this time on god

wow cant believe they're bathing each other too (<-delusional)

something about the first shizuo panel reminds me of aggretsuko. which is. actually. huh. arent they both like adults with anger issues. durarara aggretsuko au when

also deadass i forgot dennis existed until i read about him in a shizaya fanfiction and i was like "who's dennis" pfgfkhkd

so true though never throw kitchen knives kids

LMFAO HE JUST GAVE THEM MORE WORK INSTEAD OF RESPONDING

they're gonna be here all day at this rate. actually shizaya as fast food/restaurant staff au when because they'd have the stupidest rivalry known to man and i need it

fucking imagine shinra walks in and sees shizuo and izaya working by the counter

i hope izaya gets to eat fatty tuna by the end of this though. god knows he's gonna look cute as hell

made funnier by the fact that izaya at least definitely knows how to cook with how long he's been on his own and needed to feed his sisters

damn ive actually never seen someone's vein burst in a way where blood sprays out in anime akshGKJHJKSD thats impressive actually

dont look now but this may or may not inspire me to make a mermaid/pirate au (<-obsessed)

who needs kaiju battles when you can have blue fin tuna vs crab

they're literally never leaving this place bro they're gonna be stuck here for eternity. anyway here's a literary analysis of durarara pointing out why russia sushi is actually representative of dante's inferno /j

i want to read those blurbs so baddddd screams sobs bangs table

rip dennis dude he doesnt get paid enough to deal with shizaya

rippp time to listen to izaya pine hopelessly for the man he cant stop annoying for five seconds

simon had the right idea. too bad shizaya are shizaya

what is that face izaya. i cant tell if he's irritated that simon's right or irritated that simon cant understand how instinctual their hatred is or amused that simon thinks he and shizuo could be friends or amused because he thinks meaningless fighting is hilarious

oh......that kind of hurts actually

i can imagine izaya suggesting it as a joke and then lying in bed that night thinking about how it's never going to happen and it really sounds like a funny joke huh? (he is not crying)

i cant believe simon's been dealing with these bitches for like 7 years now like dude has the patience of a saint

😭give him his 50,000 yen simon

we can see that the crack in the sign is actually fixed now too ahhh time really flies when you're stuck in a relationship of mutual hatred

chibizaya is so cuteeeeeeeee

im sure he intended to paint himself that way in his recollection though pff

THATS RIGHT SHIZAYA BE THE PORCUPINES. SNUGGLE. DO IT

step aside erika, simon is the face of the shizaya nation now. especially with that "you just have a shizuo complex dont you" quote that i found the other day which i still havent recovered from

HAUDGHUSDH orihara izaya, pro unreliable narrator

hilarious how we never see tom's face. just his dreads lmfao

dennis and simon are so done with like izaya bro i think they can tell at this point that he's horrifically pining and has no healthy outlet for it. the bills go to him because they're bullying him

it'd be funny if they billed him 50,000 at the end actually pft

I KNEW WE'D GET THEM EATING TOGETHER!!! I HAD FAITH

they're so cute oh my god can i make that my header or something

10/10 chapter im going to punt izaya into a wall and get simon flowers

[br1ghtestlight]

getting war flashbacks to the bobs burgers fanfic where louise is doing math homework in the restaurant when nobody else is around and then bob has a heart attack </3 that shit was TRAUMATIZING

love linda shouting four whenever there's a math problem or anything related to numbers. best recurring joke. FOUR!!!!

you can do it gene :D also im so bad at math I 100% would not be able to help either. dumbass rep family

bob trying to help gene with his homework is cute. even if he is Not very good at it. he wants to be an involved dad :(

gene im not gonna lie that math question has gotta be fucking with you. rhat is not a real question. i could NEVER do that not if i was given 100 hours that shit is fake

see this is where when I was in math class i would just write a random number and move on bcuz im never gonna figure it out anyway im not gonna waste time. so that's my advice gene. just Give Up

he says "maybe your mom or tina could get you started" because they're older but I genuinely think louise has a better chance of helping bcuz she is so smart. if she'd WANT to help is another question entirely

because I'm stuck in a safe 😐

AND THEN HE BLINDFOLDED ME ON THE WAY HERE??? HE BLINDFOLDED YOU??????

teddy I think his guy is gonna murder you im gonna be so real right now

unfortunately im kinda following teddy's logic now like. it isnt like fischoeder isn't doing this type of shit everyday just for fun. rich guys are just like that BUT getting their money is nice

"gene was doing homework?? that's new"

WE'RE NOT ALL ECONOMICALLY COMFORTABLE LIKE YOU ARE

"Why did you tell me the whole long story about the sandwich in the drawer if you're running out of battery LOCKED IN A SAFE??" "Context!!!!"

also bob and teddy have such great comedic chemistry lmao they bounce off each other so naturally

louise isn't lying she Does have a certain set of skills 😭 if anyone could find him it WOULD be her the lockpicking genius nine year old supervillain

miss you. see you soon. gotta go!!

has he gotten a new cellphone since that MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND YOUR PHONE IS AT 23% argument or is it that same shitty 2008 blackberry phone that dies almost immediately lmfao

bob is a real one for doing this bullshit for teddy he did NOT have to. they're ride or die fr

I'm not entirely unconvinced that gerald isnt a serial killer but thats okay <3 men can have hobbies

also I'm choosing to believe this gerald is the same one from the taxes/weed cookie episode even though it ABSOLUTELY is not bcuz i think that would be funny. by day he's a regular tax agent by night he is a creepy rich kidnapper who pulls mind games on all his handymen

OH I FORGOT THE SUBPLOT FOR THIS EPISODE IS ABOUT SPORTS PEOPLE why did they do the whole thing with gene's homework then.... are they connected. what is the gameplan

WE PICK A NEW LOVER FOR MOM

i love how bob is apparently the only thing keeping his family from going completely off the fucking rails like. he's the only thing standing between his family and their restaurant burning down with everyone inside fr

your dad never loved that dream :/ because he's a hater :/ AND SO JEALOUS :/

you're not gonna break the world record. another hater. STOP THAT

I might be having a panic attack 💔 I CANT TELL BECAUSE IVE NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE OR IM ALWAYS HAVING ONE soo real teddy

WE LOST HIM 😭😭💔

aww I love them all wearing their lil aprons <3 (crappy photo of my tablet bcuz the app im using to watch this episode doesn't allow screenshots)

SAY SOMETHING SMART LIKE UHH HOW WOULD YOU FLIP A GIANT BURGER. OH GOD THEY DIDNT MAKE THE GIANT BURGER DID THEY. WHO WOULD EVEN AGREE TO EAT THAT. AN OVER FOURTY CO-ED BASKETBALL TEAM. REALLY 😯

sorry this episode has so many good ooc quotes FJDMDJSKSKKM

gene STOP calling him father

bob is being like a whole ass detective meanwhile linda and the kids are currently making The Worst Decisions Ever

h jon benjiman is doing such a good job voicing bob in this episode idk it has so much personality and sounds natural. or it's always like this and im just now appreciating it but either way A+ work

cute bob and teddy moment ❤️❤️

(ignore the awful camera quality. nothing I can do there) also love the fact that teddy can easily lift up and manhandle bob. Good to know

there's so much going on w/ this gerald guy I dont even know WHERE to begin. what a guy. wow

this is so cute and sweet im so happy!!! YOU DOUBLE FAKE WALLED HIM :D YOU SMART SMARTIE. YOURE A GENIUS BOB

"I knew I asked the right person to come help me. Yeah. Mort wouldn't answer."

"What? You called Mort first?"

"No..."

HE ASKED MORT???? LMFAO big win for tedmort shippers. I fucking guess

MORT NEVER DOUBLE FAKE WALLED ANYONE why is bob like genuinely jealous of mort and teddy right now 😭 chill out man you've got a wife at home

"let's just say it's twelve" FINALLY bob follows my very smart advice when it comes to math homework smh

ALSO THIS IS TECHNICALLY THE FIRST TIME WE'VE SEEN THEM EATING BOBS BURGERS FOR DINNER OR IN GENERAL!!! I mean it's a giant hamburger loaf but it technically was served at bob's burgers so it counts

GIANT FRENCH FRIES

aww this episode was so fun and cute!! I love the more adventure-y type episodes where they explore a new location so this episode was great and very stressful lmao. also very funny. I love bob and teddy's dynamic/back and forth throughout the episode and the weird mort mention at the end felt like they were soft launching his and teddy's relationship even though I KNOW they aren't actually. mort could replace kathleen if we believe. very solid 8/10 episode :)

[quodekash]

this is my seventh post about two episodes. this is why it takes me so long to watch things.

anyway, continuing now

HIS LITTLE PONYTAIL SDHFSDHSH

wait omg

these are the clothes theyre wearing when they eat each others fingers in the trailer

theyre about to eat each others fingers

hell yes

please, please do

i will get down on hands and knees and beg if i have to

HSHDHSHSFDHS

OH HOW THE TURN TABLES, INNIT?

HELL TO THE FREAKING YES

AND THE SONG PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND???? BRO THE NOSTALGIA IM GETTING

im definitely rewatching bad buddy soon. ill bet that ill start rewatching it within the week

of course

you know, i think the one time they werent interrupted by pa (or korn, or some other person) was on the freaking rooftop

CHEEK KISS

CHEEK KISS

THE PARALLELSSSSSSSS

i could talk all day about parallels

holy hell

we're finally here

the end of our skyy 2

i am not even slightly emotionally prepared for this

ITS 9PM AND THEYRE ONLY JUST HAVING DINNER???

well, he did say on call with his mum that the play only just ended

but jeez i was not expecting it to be that late

yes. yes. YES.

BIRTHDAY SURPRISE, LETS GOOOOO

oh. it's not phu?

but it was timed so well??

phu has to be there

i love him so much

i missed him a lot

my dear precious...

uh

tUL TUL, I LOVE TUL AND I DEFINITELY DIDNT HAVE TO LOOK UP HIS NAME BECAUSE I FORGOT WHAT HIS NAME WAS

he wishes for his boyfriend to be there :(

and phu emerges from the cake

bro that one candle was having issues

it took four blows to get it out, and that fourth one was very extended

i think mix was trying really hard to not get spit all over the cake and to not ruin the shot, but internally he was like "F[beep] YOU, YOU STUPID F[beep]ING CANDLE, DIE, DIE, DIE, OH MY GOD JUST BLOW OUT ALREADY, HOLY SH[beep], I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU SO MUCH, OH MY GOD IM GOING TO K-"

that's how i think it would go if we could see into mix's mind when he was trying to blow out that fREAKING CANDLE

okay, so, is he hallucinating, or is phu actually there

maybe the candle was stalling for time cos tul and phu werent moving fast enough and they were like to the candles "QUICK, WE NEED A DISTRACTION SO THAT HE DOESNT NOTICE", and that one was like "i got this bro 🤝" and did the performance of its lifetime

oh wow im really freaking tired

i have fifteen minutes left. ill tackle them tomorrow.

its gonna take me three days to finish two episodes of a show, where each episode is only about an hour long, and if thats not the most in-character thing for me, idk what is

anyway, see you tomorrow for the end of the years, many many tears, goodbyes, and hopefully no flies (idk what that last bit was, i just wanted to make it rhyme)

[1d1195]

Sam! You’re so kind! Thank you for the lovely birthday wishes and such sweet words😭💕I look forward to always chatting with you and honestly Sam you’re one of my besties too no joke!😭💕💕💕 love you so so much my love!!!! Thank you you’re the literal sweetest!!

Ngl I forgot about wicked and honestly in my head she is living for it all! And now it makes a lot of sense why he’s so sleepy! He probably just had so much going on so it’s understandable why he sleeps lol and that’s wild kids actually think he could be your son😭

We love to see men suffer😁 you’ve mentioned your love for sports which makes since how well you describe the hockey dynamics and I Think you’re mentioned baseball too in your stories and how I’m pretty sure you did play it! And at this point Sam you could write whatever trope/au and I would eat it up!

I’m sorry you’re feeling the existential dread:( that’s truly never enjoyable! Though I’m glad that you were able to have some moments to help feeling that way! And how nice to chat with some friends! Hopefully this week is a bit better!

I did have a nice birthday! My mom was feeling good so we went out for dinner! It was nice and I’m planning on hanging out with some friends this weekend which I’m excited about!

So now I have finally read the second part of Pucking Rookie! SAM IT WAS SO GOOD!! You know I’m a such a slut for some jealousrry and omg I kinda loved he was going insane with her wearing Niall’s jersey!! And I thought it was so adorable how shy and bashful Niall was 😭 that was so cute and I LOVE Niall in any universe you put him in lol (saw of video of him the other day and ngl he looked so hot which was new for me lol but I’m not mad about it!) anyways he’s also so insane for following her to her apartment l?!? If it were any other guy that is so creepy! But honestly if it’s Harry I’m gonna let that slide bc he’s just everything lol the intention was sweet though so it makes up for it! But omg the picture on her fridge😭 and him asking her if she would wear his name 😭 that was a sweet moment between them!!! THEN THE SKATES😭😭 he loves her bad and she loves him bad😭 IM SO EXCITED TO READ MORE BESTIE!!! You did great as always!!

Sam im wishing you the absolute best start of the week💕💕 hope that you had a lovely weekend and have a wonderful week!!! Miss you loads! Love you!-💜

I'm so happy you had a good birthday and your mom was up for dinner! I'm glad you have plans with friends too! That's awesome!! 💕

It kind of clicked randomly regarding wicked one day. It made me think I should revisit them tbh but idk.

Kids are so DUMB that's all I can say. I'm trying my hardest bestie to make them LESS dumb but they really make me earn my pay check some days. In their weak defense, if they DID listen to me they probably could have done the literal math to figure out I am too young to have a 17 year old 🤦‍♀️(A girl cried today because I didn't put numbers on my coordinate grid and she was like "how am I supposed to know where -2 is?" and I was like "Bro, count the boxes????") I think if I had a kid though I would want him to be a lot like this kid. He's made some questionable decisions over the years but I think he's got a good head on his shoulders overall. I think he's going to be okay. I will also probably jump in front of a moving car for him so there's that if all else fails. I mentioned I had his sister a couple years ago (maybe?) and we've stayed in touch as well so it seriously feels like I'm in this family now lol.

Hockey is such a fun trope. As much as I LOVE my basketball bf there's nothing like a hockey bf. I've read a football and a baseball one as well. They're GREAT but they cannot compare to a good hockey boy. And thank you! I hope this week goes better too. Monday was a good start so we shall see. I'm thinking I might FINALLY get a pedicure.

I couldn't NOT make this specific Harry jealous the jersey was too easy 🤭 Niall's such a cutie for sure. I love that you thought he was hot (he is) Yes we will let all creepy things slide for Harry Styles. So terrible 🤭 He is insane though. I love it. I don't think it's much of a spoiler, but I'm really trying to imply that they both REALLY like each other but they both have some hang ups they need to get over if they want to be together. I really liked the skates part 🙈 I'm glad you liked it too 💕 You know I love to make Harry's pockets hurt whether the MC wants to or not hehehehe

Have a great rest of your birthday week! 💕

xoxo

[rise-my-angel]

Ummm hi. Idk how to say this without sounding crazy but I binged the entirety of your hotgw modern AU in two days and it gave me such bad brainrot I had to cancel my plans with my friends to keep daydreaming about it. It’s so good I’m literally going insane I cannot stop thinking about it the way you write Jon is sooooo excellent and perfect he’s so comforting but also hot and Reader as a character is really touching too ? Like I usually don’t care much for OCs or whatever but you put such care in depicting her trauma and healing and staying true to where she’s at in the healing process, idk as someone who’s been in pretty terrible relationships I can’t necessarily relate to her reactions but I definitely empathized and rooted for her the whole time, and obviously Jon is an absolute sweetheart about it (AND HIM CALLING READER DARLING OMG I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET) anyways I also love how you fleshed out the relationships surrounding reader, like margaery and Sansa and their dynamics with her idkkk I can’t say anything abt the main series but your modern AU is so immersive and i really forgot everything about my life while I was reading it, and I can’t stop thinking about it, obviously I’m gonna attack the main series soon but I was also wondering if you’re ever gonna write a fic with Robb as the main love interest/the endgame ? Im so partial to him and I love how protective and devoted he is (not that Jon isn’t but I’ve already had a FEAST of Jon and im dreaming abt more crumbs of Robb) unrelated and Idk if this is weird to say but I love how you write Jon’s breeding kink LMAO like it’s very hot and sexy obv but you also make it sweet and tender and I loveeeee how you’re like pathologically addicted to angst it literally hits all of my sweet spots your writing was perhaps made for me IDK THE MODERN AU HIT SO MANY OF MY FAVORITE TROPES EVER and tbh I’m usually kinda indifferent to pregnancy as a trope but you literally converted me like it has taken over my brain it’s sooooo good and delicious and idk I think it’s because every chapter you wrote felt so thoughtful and planned out that I loved the pregnancy ? Like often it’s used as an afterthought to move the plot along but you really invested it and explored all of the ramifications/the consequences of it, it was so good and now I want more of it lmfao ? Anyways Reader was so freaked out by the pregnancy discovery that at first I was convinced she was gonna flee from Jon or hide it from him and I was also extremely down for that idea (written by you specifically bc you do angst way way too well, perhaps the best to ever do it! what can I say) and i suppose you’re not lacking ideas for fics to write but if someday you just happened to want to write that as another pregnancy trope I would eat it up so bad I would never recover id probably be eighty on my rocking chair still talking about it. Anyways I’m gonna attack the main series in the next few days, pray for me that i wont obsess over it bad enough that I’ll fail my classes I have so many exams coming up next month but I have the feeling hotgw will take priority ,,,, either way MWAH I’m smooching you you’re the best never stop writing I believe in God bc nature and chance alone couldn’t have come up with such a writer as you have a great day week month life etc

Wow what a message to open up to, this was a treat to read! First of all I an so sorry for my fic taking so much of your life and brain space and I am incredibly sorry that if you tackle the main of hotgw its SO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY.

I feel so bad whenever someone starts this series new because I feel like you have no idea what a commitment it would be to read this monolith of a fic.

I always know that someones reaction post abusive relationships is different and so I use my own experiences as a starting point and build off of that, so I hope that it doesn't take you out if it too much. I'm aiming for realistic for reader as opposed to universally understood because everyone's reactions would be so different.

I'm so glad the modern au has resonated so much with you, it's been my little side project when I need a break from the heavy angst of the main series, so to see it enjoyed with fresh eyes is so nice! I'm glad someone totally disconnected from my main series could get into it!

If youd like, I would love to hear your thoughts on my main series if you tackle that because so far you have been highly entertaining which I appreciate a lot 😅💜