#but i am Too Chicken to take any action :(

[firelord-frowny]

even the doc that ~diagnosed~ me with pcos didn't... DO anything???

i just told her my symptoms and she goes "oh, that's just pcos."

so i'm like! ok, what do we do about pcos???

homegirl shrugs and says "nothing, really."

she did no tests, asked no further questions, and gave me no advice, no information, etc. didn't even give me a lil leaflet about wtf pcos even is???? no informative literature? nothing about risk factors or comorbidities or blah blah blah.

[igotanidea]

Shower: J.T x fem!reader

Request: from the prompt list: "for sparring to turn into sex "+ "I told you to be quiet" + "they're gonna catch us" with Jason.

@parkjammys I'm sorry in advance, I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but I just couldn;t fight the urge to play and twist those prompts a bit.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

A/N: It's written in the Ego!verse and can be read as a next part to Growing up

***

„You got rusty” Jason smirked, while looking at Y/N’s workout simulation 

„Well, I’ve been in a cast for almost two months thanks to your older brother.” She scoffed brushing hair off her forehead. As if she didn’t know it took a heavy toll on her physique. She was panting after a beginner level program and absolutely hated it. It was like a cheek.

“It was NOT my fault!” Dick objected overhearing the conversation

“That’s just some poor explanation, Y/N” Todd mocked, making her clench her fists. “And you are not going to get back to shape and get cleared for the field if you keep it so easy.”

“Why don’t you cut your girl some slack, Todd? Even if she’s not capable of kicking your ass she can always go full meta on you.“ Tim muttered from the corner, too busy to look their direction while punching a dummy, but still not dropping the opportunity to torment his older brother.

“Oh, I am fully capable of kicking his ass.” Y/N panted “Right here, right now.”

“Is that a dare?” Jason lifted the corner of his mouth, his eyes glistening predator-like, eyeing her like a prey.

“Are you chickening out?” she pouted and tilted her head “scared of a girl, Red Hood?”

“Aren’t you scared of getting humiliated in front of the whole family?” he retorted taking a step forward her

“Do you want me to go full Ego on you?” he mimicked his movement and at the moment they were just standing in front of each other, inches away, their bodies almost touching while the other members of the family stopped their own workouts and focused on watching.

“Wouldn’t you like that, princess.” He whispered leaning over her, his hot breath on her face “I got some many thoughts in my head….”

“Do you two need a room?” Dick’s voice chimed in and brought them both back to reality. It’s been a moment since they were intimate (once again, the stupid cast!) and all they needed was a spark to forget all the surroundings and get lost in each other. But the audience was definitely not needed and upon Grayson’s words they practically recoiled from each other.

“Yeah.” Jason scratched his neck awkwardly “give me a room to pin her down.”

“Wouldn’t you like that” she laughed and it made him blush a bit. Shit. He would like that, but not with his sibling around.

“If you’re so smart and bold why don’t you go at me without using your little mind games?” he hissed clenching his fist. Fuck, he wanted her and if he didn’t start blowing the steam off that very second it would start to show.

“Promise not to go easy on me, Todd?” she spun around taking a stance on the fighting mat, facing him with that arcane look. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Then it’s a deal.”

“Wait!” Stephanie yelled “I’m opening the bets! 10 bucks on Y/N!”

“10 bucks?!” Y/N scoffed “so little faith in me, Steph! That’s pretty offending!”

“That’s all I have, y/n/n/, don’t let me down.” The blonde blew a kiss her friends direction and grinned.

“Ready you two?” Grayson rubbed his hand acting like a judge on the ring “set. Go!”

Neither Jason nor Y/N moved in the slightest. They knew each other too well to take  any sudden action, instead focusing on eyeing each other, calculating every gesture. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she took tiniest step forward and the real fight burst out.  

Y/N took a slide and before Jason with his tank build realized what was happening she was behind him, punching his shoulder blades and making him fall forward a bit, but still not enough to cause him to fully loose the balance.

“Backstabbing, princess?” he smirked turning to face her and throwing a punch which she blocked easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it, causing him to groan.

“Go Y/N!” Steph yelled happily and that sudden exclaim distracted her giving Jason opportunity to put his other arm around her waist and lift her in the air.

“Let go off me!” she yelled, kicking her feet desperately, hoping to reach his knee or calf, which she knew were more sensitive and prone to injury than any other part of his body, but failed at that, instead ending up being held like a unruly kid, arms pinned to her sides. “Damn it!”

“Giving up already?”

“You wish!” Y/N was quick to come up with contingencies and not only because Steph was now literally biting her nails watching the scene unravelling in front of her eyes. Since it was impossible to use her hands, Y/N swung her legs in the way Dick taught her and not without effort wrapped them around Jason’s neck ending up on his shoulders, strangling him, cutting the air supply, waiting for the familiar patting on her thigh – sign of surrender. 

“Aren’t you a bit too cocky, Ego?” he hissed, trying to throw her from his back, squeezing the ankle of her freshly healed leg making her yelp in pain and loosen the grip.

A mistake which made her end up on the floor, almost losing the battle.

“That hurt you bastard!” she cried out, real tears showing in her eyes.

“I’m not falling for that love” he went forth and in a blink of an eye pressed her to the wall. Their chest touching, moving up and down frantically due to the heavy breath. Was it just because of the fighting?”

“Jason….” she whined, trying to push him away.

“Don’t play dirty.” He whispered into her ear

“ME?” she faked innocence “you are clearly the one happy to have me so close, don’t you, baby?” AUCH!” the girl screamed when he pushed her even more into the wall, his eyes absolutely dark “your family is watching….”

Fuck.

He let go for just a second and it was enough for her to use that against him. In the end he was the one who ended up on the mattress, on his back with Y/N straddling his hips and hands on his chest pinning him down and …. Well…. Feeling something there.

“You think you won?”

“I…” she didn’t get to finish the sentence when he flipped her over, hovering over, his  bodyweight not letting her to get up. “Fuck….” She muttered

“You?” Jason muttered, pressing his body closer to her, whispering in her ear, making her hot and needy and all red. “I can do that….”

“Could you please stop?” Damian muttered, rolling his eyes “why is it so hard to stay professional? It’s just freaking disgusting.”

“So, seems like I won.” Todd grinned, getting up, too proud of himself about making Y/N a flustered mess on the floor.

“I hate you, Todd.” She brushed off his hand which he offered to help her up. “You almost broke my leg again!”

“You know I would never do that. Not to you, Y/N. But Riddler’s goons wouldn’t have any seconds thoughts. You need to be ready for that. “ she turned away from him, angry “Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around “don’t be mad at me, baby….. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Y/N!” Cass called from behind. She was the one who was watching the scene most carefully from all the siblings. Therefore she noticed the slight limp and bruising on Y/N’s ankle and had to make sure her friend was good to go “Leg?”

“I’m fine, Cass.” She sighed deeply “Sorry for making you lose the bet, Steph. Great job, Jason, congratulations, I guess.” She raised on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly.

Probably last thing he needed, since instead of making him calm down the fight with her, feeling her body underneath him while pinning her down did exactly the opposite. And the feeling of her soft lips on his face only fueled him more. He needed her. He wanted her. It’s been too long since he had her.

“You did well, Y/N” Dick patted her shoulder as he walked past him “I think we all had enough for today.  Let’s just hit the showers.”

“Sure….”

Y/N moved towards the bathroom, adjacent to the training room. She knew Jason never meant to hurt her, but once he got into his Red Hood mode, he was oblivious to his own strength. And while fighting she was his opponent, not his girlfriend. And she wanted him to not go easy on her.

But still, it was painful and single unwanted tear flew down her cheek.

She wiped it off, angrily and slowly started taking off her sweaty workout clothes. But before any of them could actually hit the floor,  she felt hands wrapping around her from behind and let out a gasp struggling against the grip.

“Sh!” one palm covered her mouth silencing her in an instance “it’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

“Jace!” she whispered-yelled turning around to face him “what the hell are you…..?” she cut off, her eyes widening and wandering all over him. He was naked. Absolutely naked. And absolutely horny. Ready for action and the sight of him being so hard for her made her let out a moan.

“see anything you like?” he smirked so full of himself.

“Jace….” She whined, wrapping arms around his neck immediately pulling him to a kiss, pressing herself close to him.

Of course, she wanted and needed him too. Maybe even more than he needed her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” he gasped, hands wondering all over her curves, not able to satiate of the feeling of her so close, being so vulnerable in his embrace, so submissive to his every action and movement "I missed you so bad, baby.” Those calloused palms dived under the hem of her sport bra, painfully slowly lifting it up, forcing her to put her arms up and let go of him for a moment. Too long moment for her liking as the second that piece of material was gone she clung to him like a magnet.

“Mmmm.” She whined, feeling his lips on her neck, nibbling softly on the sensitive skin and massaging her breasts, pinching slightly on the pebbled nipples.

“You gotta keep quiet baby.” He smirked, now playing with the hem of her panties, caressing so close to where she needed him “Thin walls. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

“Hmmm.” She muttered mockingly taking a step back entering into the shower cabin, getting rid of her panties herself, completely exposed and motioning for him to follow “Hear us, baby. You’re not exactly the quiet type either. Come get me….” The girl whispered turning the water on, the broad stream dampening her whole body and hair.

She was never hotter.

Those lust-blown eyes, slightly reddened cheeks, plump and kiss-swollen lips …. Her body was practically screaming to him, so ready for more. She was looking at him with that sexy, lustful, seductive expression. All for his taking. With one stride he was next to her, pressing her whole body to his. Closer, closer, closer. And yet still not close enough. Her soft and silky skin, her every curve, all for him and he was not going to oppose to that gift in front of him. Passion and love consumed them both, hot water and the fogged bathroom  creating the steamy atmosphere only added to those feelings an fueled them.  

 “Baby…. Don’t stop, please, fuck, don’t stop” her hands found a way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling gently, pressing his head and mouth to her skin. “I want more.”

“Did I hurt you?” he suddenly pulled back looking into her eyes “is your leg all right?”

“It hurts….” She whined, pouting and reciprocating his gaze with the saddest, softest expression almost begging him to take care of her. In a very specific way.

“How can I make it better?” he whispered, heavily, resuming nibbling on her neck, causing another whine to slip past her lips.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing…. be … be soft with me today.” She begged “be gentle, baby…. It’s been so long, I forgot how you feel.”

“I’ll remind you. “

“How will you remind me?” she gasped when he bit on her collarbone, hickey already forming, her core throbbing and feeling so neglected, aching.

“I’ll kiss every part  of your perfect body. I’ll make you feel so good baby. I’ll get you high. Let me.”

“Take me, Jace” she moaned clawing on his broad back, his muscles tensing and flexing due to her ministration “now. Please, baby, please, I need you. I need you so bad.” she almost cried, all the sensations overwhelming her.

“Are you sure? Like you said, it’s been a while. Can you really take it?”

“Yes, yes please…. please Jason, please, please.” Tears started falling down her cheeks, masked by the streams of water on her face and he was quick to kiss all that pain away, lips brushing over her jaw and neck, nose rubbing nose before he captured her lips again. She wanted him to be gentle and he was going to comply. Just showing her all the love he had, without words, purely by action.

 “I missed this.” he whispered tracing a pattern up her inner thigh, causing her to spread her legs slightly “I missed being with you like this. Away from everyone, just us.”

“Mhmmm.” She shuddered when his fingers found their destination “Just us, baby. You and me. I’m all yours.”

“And I’m yours. Tell me how to please you princess. Tell me what you need. Tell me how you need. I want to know all your little fantasies.”

“No fantasies. Not today.” She shook her head “Not here. I want it simple. Just lift me and don’t let me slip.”

“I won’t” he promised quickly catching up what, how and where she needed, grabbing backs of her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her into the wall for support, one hand on her back, the other in her hair, massaging gently, tilting her head to get access to more of her skin.

“IT’S COLD!”she let out an involuntary scream taking them both by surprise.

“SH!!” he silenced her again “I told you to be quiet! They are gonna catch us!”

“Do you really think they haven’t realized you sneaked in here the second the training session was over? Please….” She rolled eyes “besides, do you really care? Come on, you have me in the palm of your hand, baby.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him, moving slightly up and down to create any friction and make him take some action. Much to her delight it got her a groan from the back of his throat and she shuddered at that sound “I’m quite the catch, don’t you think? And you can do what you wish with that” her seductive whisper In his ear seemed to finally spur him on.

“The best.” He responded pushing  in. Fighting the urge to just go all in with one thrust, but remembering what she asked him for. And instantly getting the reminder when she writhed with some discomfort, nails digging into his back. He loved that sweet pain, but was still mindful that it indicated that she was pushing past her limits.

“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, rubbing her back reassuringly, trying to help her relax.

“I know…” she hissed feeling him push another couple inches in “I told you, it’s been….. a moment since we …..  and …. Mmmm.” The slightest frown appeared on her face and her mouth hung open for a while whilst her body started getting a memo of how good it was to have Jason inside her. How perfectly aligned they were. “Jace…..” she gasped out, already wanting and needing more.

“I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jason. We both know you can’t stop at this point. And I can take it. I promise, I can take it. I want you whole. In me. Now.” she arched her back, trying to take in more of his shaft .

“You have me. I….” he hesitated. Words were still hard, but he felt the urge to say them. To assure her, that what he felt was true and that he cared for her.  “I love you baby. So fucking much.” His lips found hers once more and he bottomed out with one more push swallowing her scream as her pussy fluttered around his digits so deliciously. She was right, he didn’t really care about his family overhearing them going at it, damn, he was fucking proud and bragging about being the one to make her feel good enough to scream (suck that, Grayson). But that little sucker knew that forcing her to keep her mouth shut would result in her clawing on his back again. And he wanted that. She was all his. Her body, her mind, her soul, her screams and moans, her actions.

Everything.

Jason Todd was one selfish and possessive bastard.

But still caring.

“Jace…” she panted when he finally let her lips go, allowing her to take a breath. Not that she was capable of breathing while having him like this.

“You’re good? Can I…..?”

“Just…. Just a second….” She wriggled her hips, adjusting to the stretch, causing him to groan.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.” He warned, squeezing her butt cheek.

“Oh, I am being tormented here. Forced, used, attacked from behind, abused.” She mocked tearily “poor little me.”

“Forced, baby? Abused? I can’t really see you opposing very actively.”

“Just move you little shit.” She laughed lightly, patting on his shoulder, urging him to start thrusting. And he did. Slowly, carefully. It was easy to get lost in her, but this time he was not going to rush that intimacy. They had all the time in the world. Eternity to worship each other. The external world might as well stop existing and explode and they would be perfectly happy just moving in that sensual, intimate pace, holding onto each other. Living in the bubble they created from their passion and love.

“I….” she whined, throwing her head back, resting it on the tiles and feeling the fire forming in her belly. At this point, her body was on fire and she didn’t care whether the wall was cold or not “I missed this too, Jason. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know….” he mumbled using the opportunity to kiss the exposed column of her throat moving towards her nipples, swirling his tongue around them, licking all the water droplets gathered there making her moan loudly “I’m fucking perfect for you.”

“Jace…..” she started moving against him, chasing her own high. She never knew that slow, soft loving could be so much better and more fulfilling than the rough, fast pace he usually set

“Hm?”

“Please…..”

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop loving me…. Just…. don’t …. ” shit, she was so close.

“I could never, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” He took a step forward, pressing her further into the wall and adjusting the grip on her back, making sure she would not slip.

“You are, but …. More. Please. Please, baby, please, oh, god” he didn’t pick up the pace but started moving harder on her almost making her snap “yes…yes, Jace, yes, baby.” She was no so loud there was not a chance those sounds didn’t echo through the whole manor. Most probably reaching not only the youngest but Alfred and Bruce as well.

Oh, well, that’s really (not) a shame.

“I thought I told you to be quiet, princess?”

“Fuck! Fuck! I don’t care! AH! Jason! Jace, baby, yes! Yes! Fuck! Please! God, baby, don’t …. So close…. Mmmm…”  

“You’re gonna come for me, baby? Right now? Can you be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“JA…..” he didn’t give her even the slightest chance to scream his whole name, pressing his mouth on her swallowing the other part of it, feeling her body shudder and shake in his arms.

She was so fragile, so vulnerable, so sensitive and so overstimulated that even when he himself came, she was still clinging onto him. Not wanting to let go. Wanting him to stay, to hold her like that, to shower (pun intended) her with aftercare, attention, affection. She just needed him close. Not in a physical way, but emotional. And if he were to pull out and get out of this freaking bathroom, out in the world, forced to face it, she would lose that part of him. She wasn’t ready to let go of her emotional Jason. Not yet.

“Stay.” She begged looking straight into his eyes. “Please, stay.”

“Baby….” He kissed her forehead, slowly dropping her to her feet, hands secured on her waist, making sure her shaky legs wouldn’t give up on her,  holding her close.

“I don’t want to go there….”

“Now you scared they heard?”

“It’s not that… I…. I need you.Not the one you are with your siblings. The you¸ you are only for me” she brushed her lips over his slowly, gently “please…”

“I know. And I’m not leaving you. How could I?” he pecked her lips “but we can’t stay here forever.”

“Why?” she whined, hiding face in his chest and massaging his back “It’s nice and warm and spacious….”

“Don’t you think someone will take interest in why the water in this particular shower keeps running for hours non-stop?”

“hours, huh?” she smirked, licking her lips. She was so damn ready for round two.

“I bet it would be Alfred. Do you really want that?”

“No.” she looked down, suddenly ashamed by the thought of the family butler being a witness to their workout and forcing them out alongside with making them clean the bathroom of everything they may leave behind.

Jason kissed her temple briefly and reached behind him to grab a towel and wrap her in it, slowly helping her dry herself, smile never leaving his lips. She was looking so tiny and adorable like this. In her post-coital bliss. He wanted to remember that relaxed, peaceful look on her beautiful face.

Only when they both were dressed properly and somewhat presentable they dared to take a peek through the door, making sure no one was around. As fast as lighting and as quiet as the mouses they rushed to Y/N’s room, ready for cuddling and a movie marathon, but much to their surprise they had an unwanted guest waiting for them there.

‘You are both disgusting.” Damian hissed

“And you are here cause you wanted to say it to our faces?”

“Yes. Just letting you know. Oh, and… Y/N. You should know you actually made Steph win a bet.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, brows furrowing

“There was another. Between Brown and Grayson. She bet we would hear you. Grayson had more faith in your self-control. And he’s angry about losing. Good luck talking to him about it.”

“Oh, damn it….” Y/N whined, hiding face in hands, turning red.

“What was it that you said when I told you they are going to hear?” Jason tapped his chin “oh, right, I don’t care. Well, don’t you now?”

[zykamiliah]

So we know SQQ uses The Wives/The Women as a stand-in to talk around his attraction to Binghe, but another thing SQQ does is use the Original Shen Qingqiu as a way to talk around his own personality, (negative) emotions, and even self-esteem, either by contrasting himself against him, or by finding similarities. It makes a lot of sense, since he's inhabiting the body of the original, the person he needs to, to a certain point, imitate to survive.

From the very beginning, SQQ finds similarities between o!SQQ and him, and says he doesn't get why someone with reputation, good cultivation and the biggest sect backing him up would be so envious of other people's potential to the point of scheming against them. The Original Shen Qingqiu was not satisfied with the things he has and instead of idling his life away, like Shen Yuan in his previous life, he's digging his own grave.

When rummaging through the carriage interior, SQQ finds a lot of stuff that was frankly unnecessary to take on such a short trip, like "five or six different tea sets". And noting this, SQQ thinks,

No matter that in his past life he could have counted as a wealthy second-gen, he still hadn’t been this pointlessly indulgent in his pursuit of first-world affluenza, okay? (Chapter 1: Scum)

He's saying, "unlike him, i wasn't needlessly indulgent".

Another example is when he compares his own competency to that of O!SQQ. He does this a few times in the first volume.

The original Shen Qingqiu’s skill at facing down demons should have made this quest as easy as killing a chicken with a knife. Shamefully, the knife had failed to even hit the chicken. In seconds, Shen Qingqiu discovered something that made his mood even worse. (Chapter 2: Mission)

In other words, "unlike the original goods, I am so uncool right now". But the best thing about this part is that... it puts SQQ in a bad mood. I want to call attention to the fact that he feels shame for failing, for being being weak when he should be strong. Shame doesn't come out of nowhere.

Rereading this volume and noticing this few hints of his character and emotions really challenge the notion that SQQ/SY is just an easygoing person. There's a lot of mental gymnastics being performed so he doesn't have to confront his own emotions. If the unreliable narrator tells me he's easygoing, should I believe him? I am questioning everything he says until it's confirmed by his actions.

Now, going back to how he uses o!SQQ to talk about his own competency, and most important, how he feels about being competent, strong, etc.

Surrounded by the cheers of the sect’s disciples, Shen Qingqiu attained a complete victory in the first match.

At this moment, Shen Qingqiu realized why the original flavor had clung to being a poser like it was his lifeline—it was unbelievably satisfying. (Chapter 2: Mission)

Why is it so hard to say "being cool feels so so good"? Being admired, strong and capable is something he comes to enjoy, and I wonder about Shen Yuan, and what was his life like. Why does he have to use o!SQQ to open a sentence about why being "a poser" feels good. He won't say he himself is a bit of a poser, or that it feels good to be cool.

The original flavor pushed Luo Binghe onto the battlefield because he was shameless! He didn’t care about the sect’s reputation! He hated Luo Binghe to the bone, enough to want to vicariously torture him via the hands of demons!

The current Shen Qingqiu didn’t share any of those three motives! (Chapter 2: Mission)

SQQ is not shameless, in fact there's a lot of shame in him. He cares about the sect's reputation, even if he's been in PIDW for, what, a few months? And most of that time he spent it in a cave cultivating. I wonder why he latched himself to the sect so quickly? As if a part of him always wanted a place to belong to, be part of, play an important role, a place he could contribute to.

“Do you think that the burden of peak lord will be too heavy, Qingqiu?” asked Yue Qingyuan.

The original Shen Qingqiu would most likely have suspected that Yue Qingyuan was trying to undermine his authority or something of that sort. However, the current Shen Qingqiu knew that Yue Qingyuan was genuinely worried about him overworking himself and damaging his health(...) (Chapter 3: Favor Points)

He's saying: "unlike him, i don't misunderstand people", which is... clearly not the truth, but he doesn't know that. SQQ thinks he has a pretty good grasp about people's intentions and that he's good judge of character.

All that said, the quote that actually made me connect the dots about how SQQ invokes the original to talk around his own emotions is this one, when they're facing MBJ:

“Unusually inferior talent,” [Mobei-Jun] said. “Foundation and techniques inflexible. Leave.”

Shen Qingqiu said nothing.

He wasn’t some unmatched genius in the Human Realm, but his talent was still at least one in a thousand. And Cang Qiong Mountain’s foundation and techniques weren’t inflexible, they were orthodox! Mobei-Jun still described them as he would a pile of garbage. If the original Shen Qingqiu had heard this, he would have coughed up three liters of blood and run away crying to make a voodoo doll. (Chapter 4: Conference)

But wait, that first sentence kind of sounds familiar, doesn't it?

From early on, he’d known that even if he idled the rest of his life away, he’d never want for food. Perhaps due to this carefree upbringing, devoid of either competition or pressure, he came to believe that ranking in the top ten of a competition was good enough, so long as it had more than ten people. (Chapter 1: Scum)

He's saying "as long as I score among the best I don't have to be a top ranker". Like, if he's comparing himself to others, he won't feel bad because he's not at the bottom. He's average, and average is good, right? Like a "at least I passed the test, I don't need a top score" type of thinking. It feels like something he'd tell himself to feel better about his own performance.

The middle child, saying that as long as he has an average rank everything is fine? Hahaha. Yeah ok, Shen Yuan. (wtf are you hidinnnng)

But I want to draw your attention to this sentence

If the original Shen Qingqiu had heard this, he would have coughed up three liters of blood and run away crying to make a voodoo doll.

because it's so fascinating how SQQ is mentally incapable of admitting to himself that his pride has been hurt by MBJ's words. He feels insulted, and he channels that emotion by projecting his feelings on and picturing what the original would feel in that situation.

Oh, but zy, isn't this just SQQ's humorous running commentary on everything that happens to him? Maybe he's not really upset about what Mobei-Jun said about him having "unusually inferior talent".

Nope. He's really, really pissed off

Just as the sword array was about to come down like sheets of rain, Shen Qingqiu snarled within his heart.

I’ve done my best, but he still thinks I’m low-level trash, so what can I do?!

How loathsome! If I have to die, couldn’t it at least be in a better-looking way? After being stabbed with hundreds of black swords, I’m going to be a sieve! Who could bear to look?!

He SNARLED in his heart. MBJ didn't call him low-level trash, he did that himself. It pisses him off that he's going to die in such an uncool way that will leave him looking like an ugly bloody pulp.

Is this really a guy that doesn't care about his reputation or how he looks to others, that calls himself an "easygoing person"????

This is a guy that has had to repress every emotion related to his own pride and self-esteem. And this is something he was doing in his previous life. Again, what the fuck was going on with the Shen family?!

I don't think this is the way a man that is satisfied with his lot in life would think.

Shen Qingqiu was a man of few needs; he would have been satisfied just idling away to a ripe old age. In that way, it wouldn’t be that different from how his previous life had been going.

youre LIYING. I'm not going to trust anything you said about yourself EVER AGAIN. you were so satisfied to "idle your life away" you died from eating expired yogurt! you were clearly repressed and depressed and unhappy and pretending to be okay!

[k2padfoot]

Perfect

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.

warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).

A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!

“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”

“Look at her chicken legs.”

“Does she even eat anything?”

“She looks anorexic.”

“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”

When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.

It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.

You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.

You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.

The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.

Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.

You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.

A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.

A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”

In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”

A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.

You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.

After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.

“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.

“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Okay, I’ll join you.”

A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”

Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.

“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.

Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.

Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.

When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.

After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.

Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.

In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.

As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.

Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs. 

“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.

At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.

“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.

“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.

A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”

A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.

“W-What?”

He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”

Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—

“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”

In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.

Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.

As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.

“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.

You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”

“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.

You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”

A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”

“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.

“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.

You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”

He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.

He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.

After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.

“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.

Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”

“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.

“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.

You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”

Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.

“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.

“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.

The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.

Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”

Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.

“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.

“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion

You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.

“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.

A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.

Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—

“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.

He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”

Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.

His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.

“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”

Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”

He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.

A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.

He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.

Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”

As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”

Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.

“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.

“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.

Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.

When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.

“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.

After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”

The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.

Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”

Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—

“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.

Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”

A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.

As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”

A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.

You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.

[alkalinefrog]

Hey Alka, I had a quick question for you (whenever you have the time to answer or even if you have the time), I've been taking some storyboard classes and with my illustration background, it's been hard to really find a good shorthand for characters to really get that anatomy/gesture looking right without it being too sketchy and unreadable.

How long did it take you to find your storyboard shorthand, and what exercises would you recommend to try to find it? I'm sure it just takes time and practice, I've been doing a lot more studies and gesture drawings (currently following along all the free Glenn Vilppu videos I can find on youtube) but I wanted to ask you as well because I am in love with how fluid your anatomy is, and how clear your storyboards read. And those hands my god you're a wizard!!!

Thanks a bunch, have a wonderful day!

Heya Secret, great to hear from ya! Well, what you don’t see online is how gross the rough stage of my boards can get LMFAO. Most of the boards I post are actually overly cleaned up because I'm just doing them for fun and can afford the time! I'm not really sure how long it took to develop my shorthand, I've never really enjoyed drawing detail to begin with, so when I decided to go into boarding I kinda just leaned into it!

I’ve covered a bunch of gesture drawing exercises already if you scroll through my advice tag, but ***once you have a good foundation*** here's some stuff you can try!

First you'll want to build up an arsenal of anatomy hacks you can always fallback on, particularly for complex parts of the body. The less time you spend on details, the more time you have to focus on the overall pose and storytelling. Aim to find ways to draw with as FEW lines as possible. If I had to make a list to streamline what to practice:

Head shapes - find the most efficient way to draw the front + 3/4 + side view in as few lines as possible (the challenge is still making them look structured with dimension)

Eyes - are SO important for expressions! Unless your project has characters with dot eyes, you're going to need to find a quick way to do the circle and iris in as few lines as possible. Make sure you can convey where they're looking

Hands - fists (you'll be drawing a lot of people holding poles), open palms at various angles, foreshortened fingers pointing at viewer, fingers making grabby motions----protips: 1) half the time all you need is a vague triangle/rectangle plus thumb sticking up and that's a hand 2) if the hand is relaxed, you probably don't need to draw the knuckles. Save some time!

Feet - just learn how to make sure they look like they're standing on the ground, and do some studies of what they look like when you're running. Otherwise you can usually get away with a vague shoe or boot shape (just add toe lines if they're not wearing any)

----everything else you'll practice as you go!

Jump from SUPER rough straight into clean boards to really force yourself to be economic. I've done each of these methods for work before:

Before you start boarding with a character, sketch them a few times with the intention of simplifying their design while keeping them recognizable:

You'd be surprised how little you need to recognize a character:

Depending on the scene, you can adjust how much detail you want to include:

Stay loose/more generalized with action, especially for the "inbetweens" between key poses. Clean up enough to communicate movement and make the character recognizable.

If the character's small on screen in a wide shot, edit out most details and focus on the silhouette

Save the detail work for character acting, when you really want to be specific with their expressions and gestures.

But outside of all that, be bold and fearless!! Everyone has that stage where their boards look like spaghetti! Boarding is like handwriting; you could have really shitty chicken scratch, but if you're writing beautiful poetry, who cares!

god I love drawing hands you don’t even know thank you so much!! Good luck dude!! You’ve more than got this!!

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter X

It’s way too quiet as the sun shines on us during morning formation. Aurelie’s name was called through the rotunda a few minutes ago and I saw Violet whipping a stray tear away. Luca tensed, hearing the name of our fallen squad mate, knowing that I could have saved her if she hadn’t pushed me to the ground.

Aurelie’s scream and her broken body haunts me. Nightmare after nightmare. Sometimes it was Violet laying there, then it was Rhiannon, or Ridoc, or Sawyer. And then Aurelie again. I really hope it haunts Luca as well.

It made me realize how time works at Basgiath. Some of us have more, some of us less. And out of our group, Aurelie was the first one to meet Malek way to early. It makes me so incredibly sad, and angry, and devastated. And I fear for Violet. One short moment is enough – and she could be gone as well.

*Flashback*

Stunned and in utter disbelief, I look down where Aurelie’s broken body lays.

Aurelie, who was looking forward to the training and presentation. Aurelie, who was looking forward to Threshing and having her own dragon. Aurelie, who wanted to make her father and brother proud. Aurelie, who was always in a good mood and tried to help everyone of us as much as she could.

And now she is dead. Gone. Forever.

I slowly pick myself up, trying to hide the violent shaking, a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I can’t hear Violets scream, or Ridocs, or Trinas. Can’t hear Tynan’s nasty laugh.

The only thing I notice is Lucas’s heavy breathing behind, maybe still in disbelief too, to what she just did.

My body fills with anger, and pain, and pure rage.

Furious, I whip around, facing the blonde girl, who looks extremely terrified at the moment. Fear is radiating from her. I know how I must look like right now … dilated pupils, pitch black. A nasty snarl on my face, teeth bared. I think, I look like a feral animal, but can’t bring myself to care.

“Are you actually, totally fucking stupid?! I could have reached her. I could have FUCKING CATCHED HER FOR FUCKS SAKE! WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?!” I roar, struggling to form full sentences in my rage.

There is talking above us, but I don’t bother listening.

“SHE WAS OUR FUCKING SQUADMATE, YOU STUPID IDIOT!! WHY ARE YOU PULLING SUCH SHIT?!” My roar echoes from the mountains, pretty sure you can hear it in the college as well.

“I- she- you have to understand …” she stutters.

The rage is clouding my mind. Racing towards her, I grab her collar harshly, choking her in the process and pull her into my face. She claws at my hand, trying to get air into her lungs.

“You can be fucking happy I am not in a killing mood or else you would lay down there with her” I spit out. “Every bone broken, splattered on the gravel. If you ever do shit like this again, I will kill you myself, with my bare hands, slowly and painfully. Without any witnesses. Squad mates be damned, since you clearly didn’t care as well.”

With that, I let her go and push her away, turning on my heel and start finishing the course. After a few more minutes I finish successfully and reach the top. I immediately take Violets shaking form into my arms, comforting her.

*Flashback ends*

When morning formation ends, we get ready to go to our classes, but Dain stops us.

“Okay … I know we lost one of us yesterday and that some of you were close with her, but this tension is almost suffocating. What the fuck happened, that everyone acts like scared chickens?” he asks us, brows furrowed, clearly frustrated with the behavior of his squad.

I notice that almost everyone in Fourth Wing is lingering, trying to catch some gossip. Our wingleader and his minions too. My friends look around anxiously, but no one says anything. Violet shifts on her feet while Ridoc and Sawyer share awkward glances, the second and third years looking just as confused as Dain, having no clue what happened yesterday. Seems like no one said anything after yesterday’s actions.

The moment Tynan lay his eyes on my tense form, Dain looks at his face and follows his line of sight, sighing deeply when he finds me.

Oh, I dare him to blame anything on me. I’ll actually tear him a new one, if he starts shit with me now.

Raising a brow, he asks “What did you do?”

When my heated glare finds his eyes, he flinches visibly. Good, don’t even try asshole. I am in the mood to punch someone, even if it’s my squad leader. I am sure, Xaden wouldn’t stop me.

Rhiannon clears her throat, gaining the attention of the others. “Well, Aurelie’s fall was an accident” Violet turns her head to the side “but … Arya could have caught her.”

I feel the eyes of more than one hundred cadets on me and it annoys me. Knowing what everyone thinks, I just take a deep breath, mentally preparing for what’s to come.

Imogen lifts an eyebrow. “And why haven’t you?”

My eyes find hers. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask the annoying blonde next to you.”

Said girl looks up and flinches terrified when she looks at me, letting out a high-pitched squeak.

“Luca? What did you do?” Heaton is the one asking her, intrigued to where the conversation will lead. She mumbles to herself.

“Talk!” I order her loudly, making her and some of the other cadet’s flinch, again.

“I slammed Arya to the ground, so she couldn’t reach her” she says louder. “But then she attacked me!” Luca accuses me.

A sarcastic laugh finds its way out. “You deserve so much worse” I hiss. “Wait” a second year from Tail Section speaks up, “that was you yesterday? The roaring that echoed from the cliffside?!” she asks. I nod.

“Yes, and she choked me” Luca whines.

“Hardly, you don’t even have any bruises, so quit whining like a soon to be slaughtered pig.” I don’t even try to hide the annoyance in my tone. She has no idea what choking feels like. When you try to fight for your life, while someone wants to kill you with their bare hands.

“You threatened to kill me as revenge!”

I scoff. “Revenge is beneath me” pausing, a murderous glint finds its way into my eyes “but … accidents happen.” Gulping hard, she turns to our squad leader for help.

“Okay enough! We can’t change that Aurelie is dead. But you won’t kill your squad mates. That’s against the Codex.” Of fucking course. Chuckling fills the rotunda, most of the cadets amused by his statement.

“In my defense, my dearest squad leader, I simply do not vibe with the Codex.” I spit out. He really has the audacity to look offended.

Someone chokes out a laugh on my right side. My eyes find the gorgeous brown ones of Bodhi and I can see the amusement in them. And … a proud glint?

Next to him stands his cousin. He looks like he has no idea if he should laugh or glare at me, it’s kind of a mix. Garrick Tavis, our section leader, stands on Xadens other side and he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement.

With that I turn around and make my way to Battle Brief.

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 11: The Sly Fox

Hmm…any guesses what this chapter could be about? 😜 Also, thank you to those who are keeping up with this story. Your comments keep me motivated 🥰

33 days until Competition

“No.” 

“Come on, Elain.” 

“No.” 

“Chicken.” 

“I am not!” 

There was only fifteen minutes left for their designated ice time, and the pair had spent ten minutes bickering about a new move Azriel wanted to incorporate into their program. Elain declined without hesitation, and Azriel pulled out every trick in the book to persuade her into reconsidering. 

“It’s just a simple curve lift. It’s easy enough,” Azriel tried again, hands gripping the sides of his waist. He looked like a perplexed parent, and Elain stifled a laugh. 

“To you,” She emphasized. “I’ve never tried anything that complex. My past skating programs were…”

“Boring?” 

Elain huffed, arms folded over her chest. He wasn’t technically wrong. “I was going to say basic.” 

“Even so, I never pegged you as a safe skater, Elain.” Azriel taunted. The slight flare of her nostrils brought a smirk to his lips. “I figured you would appreciate taking risks.” 

“Not risks where–if they end poorly–could slice open your thigh,” Elain said through gritted teeth. The move was dangerous. Azriel, clearly, was a sucker for thrills and had no regard for any potential life threatening injuries.

“You’re worried about me,” He teased, poking her cheeks. Her natural blush was slowly but surely becoming his favorite color, second to the lovely shade of her eyes.

Elain rolled those pretty eyes, swatting his hand as her heart thumped. “Don’t think too deeply about it. Of course I care about your safety.”

She cared about a lot more than just his safety. She wouldn’t admit it, though. 

Comforting hands settled on her shoulders. Azriel bent down to her level, hazel eyes promising. Though he always wanted her to have fun and be silly, he knew when to be serious. She appreciated how he could read her so easily. “I need you to trust me, but more than that I need you to trust yourself. I know you can do this, Elain. I wouldn’t suggest we try it if I believed you couldn't do it. But if you feel strongly about not adding this into the routine, I won’t push you. It’s your choice.” 

Choice. 

She was growing accustomed to that word over the last few days. 

A choice when to practice, and for how long. A choice of what spins or step sequences to add to their program. A choice to spend more time together, grow their relationship. It felt empowering to have that sense of control back in her life. 

Elain exhaled through her nose, softening her features as she said. “If this ends badly, I am not visiting you in the hospital. I’ll send flowers with a note that says ‘I told you so’.”

He laughed, taking her hand to twirl her a few times before pulling her close, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead. Azriel’s platonic affection was also new to her. He held her hand. Smiled big and bright and beautifully. And was apparently a huge fan of feeling her skin on his lips. One could interpret his actions as romantic, and—and it certainly felt like it, but it wasn’t unusual for skating partners to be adoring. A part of her heart twisted.

“We both know you’d be the first person at my bedside, Elain. No point in trying to deny it, either.”

She hummed. 

Fine. He was right, but there was no reason to tell him. 

“And what about me?” Elain asked curiously, blades digging into the ice. “Would you be the first person at my bedside if I were to get hurt?” 

“Of course I would,” He answered firmly, thumb running over her knuckles.“But we don’t need to worry about that. You’ll never be injured on my watch. I won’t allow it. I’ll take care of you no matter what.” 

Something crackled in the air around them. 

Elain coughed, hoping he wouldn’t find her rude for changing the subject before she could dwell on his promise. “So. When do you want to do this? After the twizzle?” 

Azriel shook his head. “It’ll be best after a pattern dance step. First, you’re going to balance on one skate while I grab your ankle and the back of your leg like this.” He guided her through the movement, solidifying his grip on the base of her ankle. A grip that would never, ever let her falter.

“While I’m doing that, you’re pushing up to stand on my thigh, and then you’ll swing your other leg around so the weight is distributed evenly. And to make sure you’re secure during the curve, my hands will wrap around the front of your thighs, holding you in place.” 

He continued the demonstration, positioning Elain’s body into the lift. She wobbled briefly, but Azriel did as he said. His hands came around to clutch the front of her thighs, his touch warm on her skin. The lift was held for three seconds, completed by Elain pushing off his thighs and spinning once in the air, Azriel catching her easily before lowering her skates to the ice. 

“So?” His grin sparkled, and Elain allowed herself one brief moment of adoration as she gazed at the slight chip in his tooth. “What do you say? Think we can add it to the program?” 

Elain considered, pursing her lips in thought. The element was bold and daring, and it could add even more depth to their program, something the judges would be looking for. And he believed in her, seemingly more than anyone else ever had. 

She relented with a chuckle. “You haven’t led me astray so far, so let’s do it.” 

With newfound enthusiasm, they rehearsed the lift for the remainder of the time slot. It was messy and needed work, but the pair was eager to perfect it. They were so immersed in the new element they failed to see two skaters gliding toward them. 

“You’ve used up ten minutes of our ice time.” 

Elain had almost lost her balance at the displeased voice. Azriel caught her with ease and set her down on the ice in front of him, his chest pressed against her back. 

Lucien stared at them, voice cold yet his face was the portrait of indifference. Instinctively, Elain’s hand found Azriel’s, squeezing once. Lucien clocked the movement, humming to himself. 

“What are you talking about?” Elain asked, only now noticing the stunning woman a few inches behind him. She tensed when the woman looked her up and down, and not in a way that made Elain feel comfortable. 

“I said, you’ve used up ten minutes of our ice time,” Lucien repeated, rolling his eyes. The woman snickered, linking her arm with his. “What aren’t you understanding?” 

“Watch how you speak to my partner,” Azriel said lowly, vein straining in his neck. Elain ran a thumb over his scarred knuckles. “I've got about a million reasons to make sure you leave this rink with broken legs. Don’t test me.” 

Lucien clicked his tongue, but offered no rebuttal. It was a smart move on his end. Something told Elain he knew Azriel would follow through on the threat. She’d never heard his voice darken the way it just had. Something stirred low in her stomach. 

“Temper, temper,” The woman purred, eyes flashing wildly. “I usually like that in a man, but I would advise against threatening my partner in front of me.”

Elain froze. Behind her, Azriel stiffened. His hands slid on either side of her hips, holding her in place. “I’m sorry?” 

“Elain, Azriel, meet Vassa,” Lucien introduced, a sly smile painted on his mouth as she dipped her head. “My skating partner.” 

Skating partner? 

Impossible…he dropped out of the–

Oh. 

Oh. 

“What the fuck do you mean skating partner?” Azriel questioned, eyes darting between Lucien and Vassa. His anger was palpable, skin ablaze against her own. She thanked whatever deity existed that his hands were on her waist. She was two seconds from pouncing. 

“Well, after our little incident, I simply could not let my chances of securing the gold go to waste,” Lucien explained. Elain noticed how Vassa’s lips thinned, how she regarded her with disdain. “Vassa and I will be representing the Autumn Region in the competition.” 

Every new piece of information gave Elain whiplash. 

“Incident?” She squeaked, eyes burning. Azriel’s grip tightened, his hold on her grounding and comforting all at once. “What the hell are you talking about? There was no incident. You–.” 

“I think we’ve chatted enough, don’t you?” Lucien cut her off, eyes hardening in challenge. He reached for Vassa’s hand. “Now, If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to use whatever time we have left to practice our routine.” The duo dismissed themselves toward center ice without another word. 

Blood rushed through her ears, skin warm and clammy.

She couldn't believe it.

The abandonment. 

The betrayal. 

The lies. 

No sadness or heartbreak filled her chest as it did weeks ago.

It was replaced by rage.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Azriel whispered as they skated off the ice. They took to the bench, aggressively flinging their skates into their bags. 

Elain nodded, hands gripping the edge of the bench. A new fire crackled in her heart. She turned to Azriel, whose own demeanor had taken on an air of fury. “Yeah. We’re winning this fucking thing.” 

The rage that had reared its head hours ago had finally dissipated into annoyance and an unshakeable contempt for redheaded men. Freshly showered in a pair of mauve leggings and a baggy white t-shirt, Elain had been pacing in her kitchen for the past 20 minutes, alternating between chewing her slice of strawberry shortcake and biting her thumb nail. 

She could make peace with the fact Lucien had lied to her. She could make peace with the idea that he found it so easy to betray her. And now she had to accept the idea that he may have more tricks up his sleeve. Could he go as far as potentially sabotaging the competition? Ruining what very well could be her last chance at receiving a gold medal? She would have said no if the question was posed months ago. Now, she didn't know what to believe. Maybe he had always been sly and cunning, and her willingness to see the best in people blinded her. 

And the more she thought about it, the more irate she became. He had jumped through hoops to abandon her, when she would have accepted his honesty even if it pained her. Clearly, in his mind, she wasn't even worth the truth. 

The clock on the wall read just after eleven at night. She huffed, tapping her fingernails on the counter once, twice, three times before deciding to visit the one person she knew would be awake. And on her trek over to his home, Elain had one single thought.

She hoped Azriel had wine, because she was going to need it. 

The matte black doors of his home were truly a welcoming site. Standing on the top step, Elain decided that she probably should have sent him a message and asked if he wouldn't mind a visitor. She hadn't even thought about if he had an early morning practice, or perhaps a game in the early evening that he needed to be well rested for. Even with those thoughts running through her head, she knocked on the door anyway. 

The door swung open, and Elain didn't even give herself a second to take in his appearance before she let herself in. Nor did it register for Azriel who was standing on his front doorstep until she was brushing past his body in the foyer, expertly sidestepping his hockey helmet. 

“Please tell me you have Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, or something stronger,” Elain said by way of greeting, pushing past his frame until she was stomping straight toward his kitchen. 

Dazed, Azriel blinked twice and pushed the front door shut with his index finger. “Hello to you, too, Elain.” 

He didn't have much choice but to follow her into his kitchen. One shoulder against the wall, he folded his arms and watched her navigate his kitchen with an amused smile gracing his face. He had so many questions. 

What the hell was she doing awake at 11 at night?

Why was she frantic?

Why didn’t she ask him to pick her up?

Why did she look so good with tangled wet hair and an oversized t-shirt? 

Why did his heart race and his cock twitch at the mere observation that she looked comfortable in his home? 

After scouring all of his cabinets, she spotted half a decanter of brandy and decided that would do for now. She grabbed two crystal tumblers and poured a finger width into each. Brows raised to his hairline, Azriel watched as she knocked back her glass in three gulps, scowled, and then refilled her glass, walking toward him with both. 

Before he could accept the tumbler, Elain froze abruptly, liquid sloshing in the glass and slightly over the edge, dripping onto her fingers. 

Azriel frowned, attempting to remove his glass from her hand. She only stood there with a pounding heart, eyes trained on the base of his throat. 

Elain croaked, “Why are you wearing my necklace?” 

Azriel stilled. Almost robotically, he tipped his head downward, where the gold chain with a cursive letter E was on display against his black compression shirt.

Fuck. 

He’d been so careful, keeping it hidden underneath his shirt during practices, hockey games, nights out with friends. And now here she was, the rightful owner of the jewelry, with an expression on her face he couldn't read. 

“Why did you come over, Elain?” A lame attempt to divert the subject. 

She swallowed, handing over the glass with a shaky hand. The last time she saw that necklace was seven years ago. It hadn’t been in pristine condition back then, and certainly had lost its color now. “Well, I was in the mood to rant about the unexpected visit we received today at Snowspell, but now I think I want to talk about something else.” 

Fair enough. 

He motioned toward the living area, and they settled into the couch nearest to the fireplace. Azriel tucked his foot beneath his opposite thigh, sipping his brandy as Elain settled into her own spot, throwing a blanket over her legs. She crossed them under the cashmere blanket, settling the drink in her lap. 

“You’ve held onto it all these years.” Not a question. 

He nodded sheepishly. “I had every intention of giving it back to you at first, I swear I did. And then you left the rink without it and I just…” A shrug. “I barely saw you after that. And honestly, I wasn't sure how you would react if I sought you out. Or worse, really, how your mother would.”

Elain shivered at the thought. She could already picture Mama’s scowl along with her…colorful language. 

Azriel traced his finger around the glass rim. Pink bloomed high on his cheekbones as he said, “You've been my good luck charm for a while, Elain.” 

She almost spat out the brandy. Blinking, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“After putting on the necklace, I won the next three ice dance competitions,” He admitted, watching Elain’s brows rise. “I’ve also played some of the best hockey of my life. A small piece of you has been with me for years. Without even realizing it, you’ve been part of some of the best moments in my life.”  

She looked at him then. 

Really looked at him. 

Not just the warm eyes and strong, beautiful features. 

Not just the tattoos or the sweatpants hanging very low on his hips or the happy trail peeking out from underneath his shirt. (Though, she may have stared just a tad longer than necessary, and he may have caught her doing so and shifted a bit in the couch so more of his skin was exposed.)

But she looked at him and realized there weren’t enough words in any language to describe how important he’d become in just a short amount of time. There weren’t enough words to reflect how much she admired him, and how much his unyielding desire to see her happy had started chipping away at the walls around her heart. 

And as he went to remove the necklace, she crawled across the sofa with the blanket and brandy and curled up beside him, stopping him with a gentle, “Keep it.” 

Azriel gazed down at her, their noses only a few centimeters away. He had to pause himself from leaning forward and burying his face into her hair. “Why?” 

Elain shrugged, throwing half the blanket over his legs. He splayed his arm along the back of the couch and breathed out a sigh of relief when she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Because it’s yours.” 

There was a brief moment where she was unsure if she meant the necklace or her heart. 

What she did know, however, was that something changed between them that night.

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: HERE

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[romanarose]

Used

Marc Spector x GN!reader

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Summary: Marc and you enjoy rough sex, but when Marc asks you to try something new, it quickly goes downhill.

Warnings and Content: reverences to BDSM, Dom/sub, whipping with a belt, Marc's abusive childhood, references to self-harm in the past, mention of self-harm scars, just.... a lot of talk about self-harm. Misuse of BDSM. Breach of trust in a D/s dynamic, miscommunication. This isn't meant to be a perfect or even good D/s relationship or relationship in general. this is a relationship that is struggling right now. Don't look to fanfiction for sex and relationship advice. Marc is self-destructing, reader isn't the best at handling it but the are trying. Lots of crying lmfao. If I miss anything LMK but really this is a proceed at your own caution situation as I've at least laid out the basic themes.

Immersability: Marc can pick up reader. I think that's it? I usually write Fem!reader but there really wasn't a reason to make this fem so I put GN!reader this time. If I accidentally fem coded something lmk.

*****************

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

Marc looked up from his food he had barely eaten. You’d made him his favorite: chicken strips and fries. Marc was a picky eater due to his sensory issues so you were happy to have simple little meals when Marc was fronting for dinner. He’d been absent for a few days, only fronting when Steven and Jake insisted. You’d been worried, after all. The last night you and Marc had together hadn’t ended well, and you wanted to talk to him.

*

“That’s it, I’m calling it.” You said, climbing off the back of Marc’s legs that you had been stradling and quickly pulled on your robe.

“I- what?” The panic in Marc’s voice was evident. You and Marc… liked things rough, but unlike you and Jake, it was you who was the dominant in this dynamic. You and Marc had been doing things like this for a while, clearly defined boundaries and safewords and communication had made a smooth going of things. Marc had been having a bit of a tough time lately so you had stuck to regular love-making, but tonight he had come to you with a request to try something new. He wanted you to use a belt on him.

“Something’s wrong, Marc.”

His face was still in the mattress, face down, but lift enough to speak without looking at you. “I didn’t use the safeword?” It was more a question than a statement.

“Well, I am. Red, on your behalf.” You weren’t super into the idea of using a belt on him, but you weren’t uncomfortable, and since it was something he wanted, you decided to give it a try. Pretty quickly, you didn’t think it was going to happen again but you intended on seeing it through. Marc usually whimpered and yelped during sex, but you could tell his pleasure even still… something told you this was different. This was wrong. He didn’t use his safe word, but he didn’t need to. You knew him.

“I’m fine-”

“Turn over” You instruct, and when he doesn’t you nudge him over gently. Your heart hurts at the tears in his eyes, but his boxer briefs tell you what you suspected. His erection was gone. “Marc…”

Immediately, his lip quivers, breath shaky and he sputters out apologies and you remember your job. It’s not to chastise him, not to question him. Not right now. Right now you need to take care of him.

First was reassurance. “Hey, hey baby,” You cup his face. “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Second was always his weighted blanket. He didn’t usually sleep with it, so you kept it under the bed for any time he needed the pressure.

Third depended. If he needed anything medical or was hurt, that was next, but you didn’t think what you had done was too bad (your hesitant actions didn’t lead to anything harsh and you had been researching and reaching out to others on how to do this correctly.). Right now, Marc needed to calm down. With tears wetting his cheeks and his anxiety over thinking he ruined the scene, he needed reassurance next. 

“Can I lay with you?” You ask as you tuck the blanket over him the way he likes. When he nodded, you lie down beside him. “The usual?” He nodded again, and you place yourself how you usually did. You lay on his chest, arms holding him, right leg bent over his, adding to the weight of the blanket.

“You didn’t do a thing wrong, Marc. You were perfect, this is me, okay? My choice to end it.”

You stay like that for a while before asking to check his back when his breathing was normal. He nodded again and you knew he wasn’t going to be talking the rest of the night. That was okay, you knew how to communicate without words. Marc rolls over, and you see you were correct; not much as far as wounds. You ice him and gently rub aloe vera ointment over the small welts. Once that was done, you help him in dressing in his most comfortable pj’s and resume your previous position until he fell asleep.

You woke up to Steven that morning.

*

“Talk about what?” Marc tried to deflect, but you cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows.

“The other night, Marc. We need to talk about it.”

He avoided your eyes again and mumbled. “I wasn’t the one who safworded.”

You couldn’t help but sigh. “Marc, honey, please? I wanna talk about it so I know what I did wrong-”

His eyes flicked up, his tone harsher than you were used to. “Only thing you did wrong was safeword.”

Taken aback, you feel your chest tightening with anxiety at the argument bubbling. You want to dial it back, but the implication of his words hurt. “Marc… I’m allow to use the safe word too”

Immediately he looked regretful. “No- that’s not what I meant, fuck, sorry…” You gave him a second to regain his thoughts. “I just meant you shouldn’t have done it for me.”

You soften, understanding what he meant. “Baby, you were clearly uncomfortable, and that makes me uncomfortable.” 

“I was fine!” He snapped, yelling at you and you see it right away when Jake takes over. “Lo siento, amor.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” But it was clear that his shouting hurt your feelings.

“He shouldn’t yell at you like that.” Jake began eating the chicken. One thing about Jake is he’s going to take care of Marc, and that includes eating when Marc won’t.

“We’ve been… going through a little bit of a rough patch…” You conceded, admitting it to yourself for the first time. The last month with Marc had been hard. He was drifting, and you couldn’t figure out how to stop it. 

“It’s not you. He loves you very much.”

“I know he does, I love him.”

“I know.” Jake stuffed his mouth full of chicken. “I told him it wasn’t a good idea to reenact his moms abuse, but he never listens to me.”

That caught your attention. “Wait, what?” You weren’t stupid. You knew his enjoyment of rough sex probably had something to do with his childhood, but Marc didn’t divulge much other than his mom physically abused him.

“Oh great, Marc’s yelling at me now, I guess he never told you his mom whipped-” Marc took the body back. “SHUT UP!” He screamed with eyes pinched shut. You sat in silence until they opened again. When he saw you looking at him with wide eyes, he spoke quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t think… I didn’t realize I was in control again…”

“It’s okay…” You whisper. “Marc… what was Jake gonna say.”

Marc sighed, closing his eyes I think you know.

You did, but you wanted him to say it.

“Marc?” Your voice was shaking and seemed so distant from you as you slowly realized what happened, what he had done. What he had made you do.

“She whipped me with a belt.” Marc’s face was deadset, the look he gave when he was trying so hard not to show emotion, but the heavy rise and fall of his chest always gave it away.

You stand up suddenly. “Marc…” stepping backwards as Marc stands with you, you try to get distance  from him, disgust with yourself permeating your bones.

“Marc…”

“Baby, it’s not what you think-” He held out his hand to calm you but your body began to curl in on itself, horrified as you wrap your arms around your waist.

“Were you using me to self harm?”

Horror washed over his face. “No! No that’s not it!”

“But you were! You were using me to hurt yourself, to punish yourself! That’s sick, Marc! Sick!” You couldn’t believe he’d made you an accomplice in his battle against himself.

“It’s not like that, I swear!”

“Making me into your mother, Marc? How could you use me like that?” The tears were welling in your eyes, hurt and self-loathing swelling your thoughts. 

“Baby…” Marc looked like he was about to cry himself. “It’s not- it’s not that big a deal…” Marc always tried to down play, to refuse help, to refuse to admit when something he’d done hurt you. Not because he didn’t think he was wrong. Marc always thought he was in the wrong. No, it was because he didn’t think he was worth crying over.

“YES IT IS!” In a fit of frustration, you reach for the kitchen knife. Marc didn’t jump, didn’t startle. He knew whatever you were doing, you wouldn’t hurt him. You give him the handle and hold out your wrist. “Cut me.”

He looked as confused as he was horrified. “Wha-”

“Cut me!” A litany of scars riddles your wrist, he knew what asking him to add to it meant.

“No!” Marc set the knife down far away from you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him in concern. “Baby, why would I do that?” He kissed the scars., speaking softly now as you cried freely. “C’mon, your scaring me… are you having urges to hurt yourself again?”

Classic Marc, always more worried about you. “N-o,” You stammer, crying hard as Marc pulls you into a hug. “That’s the point! You’-d-d-d never help me hurt myself, why would you ask me to hurt you like that?” You are crying, legs shaking and you don’t feel you can keep standing.

Marc sinks to the floor with you, holding you close and crying with you. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” He held you in his arms for a while until you started to calm down. When you were no longer shaking, Marc lifted you up, carrying you to your bedroom.

First, he reassured you. “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby girl. It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

Next was the weighted blanket. It was a gift from you to the boys, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t sleep under it sometimes.

“Can I lay with you?” He asked, and when you nodded, too tired to speak, he crawled under the blanket with you. “The usual?” You consented, and Marc wrapped you up tight in his arms, leg draped over yours in extra comfort.

Lastly, he whispered more assurances in your ear.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Rest, we’ll talk about it later.”

“Everything is going to be alright.”

And you knew it would be. It always would be between you four. Marc just needed help, and he needed to let you help.

Rough sex was out for now. If you couldn’t trust him to use the safe word, you wouldn’t be putting him or yourself in that position. Slowly, Marc opened up and let you, Steven and Jake in, and slowly things got better. It took time, to be sure, and a lot of work on both your parts to repair the trust that was broken, but you loved Marc and Marc loved you.

In the end, Marc was right. Everything was okay.

***************

angsty marc overwhelmingly won my poll. yall like to see a pretty boy cry, huh?

@moonknightly this is the fic i was brainstorming months ago that hurt you so bad lol

@whatthefishh @missdictatorme @ahookedheroespureheart @eyelessfaces @campingwiththecharmings @runa-falls @fandxmslxt69 @k-ra @ivystoryweaver @steven-grants-world @littlenosoul @mikaelak @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @boysddontcry

[tello-fellow]

Heyyyyy so guess who had the bright idea to fill out "my ship in 5 minutes" at 2 AM last night. Meeeeeee. Headcanons below the read more!

I've been the biggest Corney fan since I was in elementary school and that hasn't changed at all. They take up space in my brain and I needed y'all to see them.

Headcanons for Corey and Laney!

- Corey and Laney are bi4bi

- Corey uses any pronouns and Laney uses She/He

- Laney is one month older than Corey despite being shorter than him

- Corey confessed first despite Laney falling first, she was ready to just take her feelings to the grave meanwhile Corey realized on some random Sunday that he'd been falling for laney for years and called her up with a "Lanes, just found out something crazy! I'm in love with you, wicked right?"

- Corey's antics are what cause their arguments most of the time but he's quick to apologize when he realizes his actions may have hurt or bothered Laney. Laney's quick to forgive them cause she can't stay her favorite frontman but it does take some time for her to process how she feels.

- Corey doesn't know what personal space is, she has no concept of a personal bubble she's always getting into people's faces but Laney is the biggest victim of this. Although they don't verbalize their affection anyone with eyes can see that Corey loves hanging off of Laney at any given time. If you need to find them they're probably resting their chin on Laney's head or using Laney as an arm rest. Laney's affection is also physical contact but not to Corey's extreme, he also vocalizes his affection more than Corey does.

- The creators have confirmed that Corey is the jealous type so I ran with it, he's never worried someone will actually take Laney away from him cause he knows how much Laney loves him but he still gets antsy when someone takes up too much of Laney's attention. When he gets like this he ends up trying harder than he needs to to get Laney's eyes back on him. Laney doesn't get super jealous, he's secure in his relationship with Corey and knows that the only thing Corey will ever love more than him is his music and he's okay with that, it's something he really loves about Corey he wouldn't dream of taking that away from him.

- Despite not getting jealous Laney can be over protective, she knows Corey is a natural magnet for chaos and worries about them getting hurt all the time. She knows they can handle themselves but it doesn't stop them from following Corey just in case they need her help. Corey never worries too much about Laney cause they know she can kick anyone's ass if she really wants to, obviously they worry sometimes too but they know she can handle herself with or without them.

- They were each other's first relationship, they'd only ever had feelings for each other

- Corey cooks and Laney does housework. Laney can cook but all her food is super bland, Corey knows how to add flavor to any meal so they agreed he'd be the one to make their meals. Corey also does housework but he's not as efficient as Laney, Laney actually takes her time to make sure everything is clean while Corey just wants to get everything done as quickly as he can so he can get back to his music.

- Out of the two Laney is the better caregiver when either of them get sick. Corey does his best but he sometimes forgets to do certain things when he doesn't have Laney to help him remember, like taking medicine, using a cold compress, and actually resting. He kinda panics when either of them get sick cause that puts his music on hold for too long. I like to think when Corey gets sick in order to help soothe his need to play Laney brings out his bass and starts playing songs Corey likes so he'll rest. Laney's voice helps him sleep.

- Corey yaps, she loves to yap it's all she does and Laney loves to just sit and listen.

- Laney has chicken scratch penmanship, the only person who can understand what she writes is herself.

- I don't want either of them to die for the other but if one of them was going to it would be Laney. Corey's got a brain full of crazy schemes so he can come up with a solution to save both of them on the fly and while Laney can match his energy she doesn't have his crazy brain so she'll only be able to see one solution. Although that solution would break Corey beyond repair and she knows that but she'd be selfish in that moment because she can't love in a world without Corey. No music would ever be able to soother her brokenheart but she hopes he'll at least keep playing even if they're songs of sorrow.

- Corey proposes first, it's a crazy even that goes wrong in every way possible but it's still beautiful for them. He gets Kin and Kon to help and their shenanigans only make it worse. Laney says yes obviously. There's not world where she could ever say no to Corey

[archivalofsins]

For Futa Jackalope really did just turn to camera and say chicken says what. Like he called the audience cowards. Too afraid to judge Futa because it would mean judging themselves.

Jackalope was on it. This end of trial report he hit all the right notes- He was in all the right places. He saw the audiences weaknesses and he hit them over and over.

He said you had your fun sowing lets chat before the reaping starts and he went in.

Like damn no remorse.

"Or……maybe you just couldn’t bring yourself to find him “guilty”, because he reminded you too much of yourself……I’m just blabbing."

Even down to highlighting the faceless Futa showing that he could easily be any of us as he said it. Jackalope said,

"I take no prisoners; you will see an ending before the end. It will be shaped like every door you did not open and every life you did not live. Then in the face of your doubts you will keep walking forward because where you came from no longer exists. Time has an insatiable appetite and we are all on it's menu. Hahaha I'm such a kidder."

Back to what he really said and the thing that intrigues me the most. Jackalope throughout the second trial report kept highlighting that despite finding Kotoko guilty we proved through our verdict that her actions do work.

By finding everyone who she attacked/threatened Innocent. This continues the trend of Kotoko jumping on any sign of agreement to get to the conclusion she wants to end up at. That being her methods are correct. So just because we found her guilty doesn't necessarily mean we found her methods wrong.

The way Jackalope interprets the guilty prisoners change in verdict may be exactly how Kotoko will view it herself.

"But, to put it another way, if this is because he showed remorse, you could also say his “innocent” verdict was thanks to the actions of Kotoko Yuzuriha, right?"

Cuz think about it…….who knows how he would have acted without the pain, right?

Q.04 Would you make the same mistake again?

Futa: I don’t think so. I don’t think I could take this kind of pain again.

Q.07 What have you been into lately?

Futa: Finding a way to distract myself from the pain.

Well next up Kazui~

He’s a self-admitted liar, have you been able to solve the mystery?

Well given the little amount of information provided in contrast to Jackalope's statement on Yuno... I would have to say we haven't. Instead Jackalope just reiterates things that Es brought to attention in Kazui's second voice drama.

Not mentioning anything about cheating or marriage in the slightest.

Again very interesting in comparison to Yuno who Jackalope admits told us what she did herself without ever really honing in on what part of what she told us should be considered.

Just stating,

"She said it herself, so her crime became quite clear, hasn’t it? And that crime didn’t raise to the level of murder to you, I take it. Interesting. I guess that’s how it is in your era."

Yet in Yuno's second trial interrogation she said a lot of things. Including dismissing the audience previous judgments on her and the guards desire to project a sob story onto her.

Yuno Second Trial Interrogation

This situations bothersome-ness has won out./I won't be bothered.

"So, I am extremely cooled off." (-273.15°C) "That is all."

"That’s the real Yuno Kashiki, you could say. Cold and logical. Practical and unromantic. Getting her to interact is gonna be a heavy lift, I’d say."

"You want to make clear the truth...huh? Fu... Haha!"

"The result of doing looots of sugar-daddying: ...abortion."

...!

"That's probably my murder. Well, please go ahead and partake of the truth."

...

"How is it? Satisfied? Then, can we be done already?"

Yuno...you...

"You don't surprise much, do you? As I thought, you knew it from the song extraction."

Cold and Logical

Well, yes. As one possibility, I thought it was likely. That, going by Milgram's scope of interpretation for murder, it was possible.

"I'm sure. Well, I generally got the sense that that's how it was. I could feel it."

You could feel it...you say?

"I can hear it, while I'm in Milgram. It's probably the same for everyone else."

Practical and unromantic.

"Voices peeking in, digging around, and discussing my sins."

Interesting that she uses sins plural here not singular. Didn't note this previously but probably should have.

Something like that...

"Are those not the thoughts you were having? Not that I would know."

But you get my point Jackalope's end of trial report on Yuno confirms that what she said in her second interrogation was in fact the truth and nothing but it. However, he speaks very little on how we interpreted what we were told in contrast to other prisoners.

Just making a sweeping statement,

Interesting. I guess that’s how it is in your era.

But he does ponder an interesting thing,

"I wonder though, what decides the worth of a life?"

Playing on the abortion debate that her trial turned into before plainly asking,

"……don’t tell me, did this murder seem smaller to you than the murders of the other prisoners? Thought-provoking!"

Again playing on the idea the fans have ran with that Yuno should not even be here because she hasn't committed murder like the other prisoners. He says a lot and not that much while discussing Yuno but Jackalope's statements on her can be used to further scrutinize what's not said about Kazui.

Like I said he basically confirms Yuno was in fact telling the truth throughout her second voice drama but doesn't mention any of what was brought up in Kazui's outside of reiterating Es' points.

Of Kazui being a liar and self-pitying going as far as to call him emo and even praise us for being so accommodating to him despite his woe is me routine.

Jackalope even comments that he can't bring himself to be interested in Kazui,

"It all feels very emo and I can’t bring myself to be very interested in him, but the fact that you’re so accommodating to him, is commendable."

However, he reiterates another point one that he brought up from the beginning that directly contradicts a statement that Kazui made in his second voice drama,

"He’s the only one who has the strength to fight off Kotoko and Mikoto after all."

Kazui states in his second voice drama that if Kotoko and Mikoto were to team up that would be the end of him and Milgram. Contradicting Jackalope's statement in Es' voice drama that if Milgram were an all out brawl then Kazui would come out victorious.

So Jackalope basically goes he's still lying have you figured out what the lies are and then just goes here's one of them for free.

Now onto the other interesting one- Amane.

Amane's is interesting because Jackalope basically goes her life would be this way in and out of Milgram. Showing that his focus with Amane is not us being tricked into going easier on her because she's a child but a desire for the audience to go harder on her because she is a child.

Coddling isn't going to prepare her for the real world but neither is being unnecessarily cruel to her either. Even admitting that he himself doesn't know what made the audience find Amane innocent this time around and stating he's curious about the judgement.

Despite how vocal people said Amane fans were being- This again highlights that no, they weren't. Amane fans weren't pushing super hard or really loud. They weren't going around shouting at people to vote her innocent or bribing people to. Hell, the staff couldn't even write a decent bit for her part of the video because they don't know what caused this.

"I remember feeling a sort of awe at your resoluteness to your duties, being a kid didn’t mean you couldn’t be “guilty”, right? So, what was it that made you choose “innocent” this time? I’m very curious. Is it her, or her beliefs, or her birthright, or her fate…."

Whatever the circumstances may be, she is the one that has to bear the blame. That’s just how it is. Both in and out of MILGRAM, isn’t that right?

They were wrong for highlighting the tasing scene like this again. They went I'm about to make you feel bad if you voted this kid guilty fucking suffer rip to you I guess- you are the problem. Like there was no joking here Jackalope looked at the camera and went,

Jackalope: This is just how it is everywhere. Your vote won't change that. It won't lessen the weight of the blame on her shoulders. In or outside of Milgram.

The “It can’t be helped”, from the scum that can’t be helped. That makes them doubtlessly, clearly, absolutely, unequivocally, beyond any doubt, categorically, emphatically, GUILTY.

Then just went to Mikoto like that shit was nothing like it didn't just destroy my soul.

That concludes my fucked up things from the end of trial two report.

[dust-and-grave]

hng, i am so frustrated by this whole watcher tv situation. i've been chewing on it ever since i watched their announcement video yesterday + i've been looking around online at other fan reactions. i'm having a lot of thoughts so i guess i want to throw my two cents in + hope it'll make me feel better to talk about it a little.

i think we all agree that creators should be paid fairly for their work; however, not all work is created equal, right? if i commission an experienced (and thus high-demand) artist to do an oil painting of my cat, they might quote me $500+ to do that + it would be fair. if an artist with substantially less experience (and thus in lower demand) spends 30 seconds on a crayon rendition of my cat, should they also received $500+ for their work? i think most people would agree that would be ridiculous.

in some ways, this is what it feels like the watcher team is doing to us right now, imo. we know that shows like ghost files or puppet history are expensive to make because travel costs (in the case of ghost files) + production costs, but we can see the effort put into the work. we feel that what we give for the show, whether that's turning off ad blocker while watching or buying show merch or supporting via patreon, is going toward making the product that we are asking for. these shows are the oil painting in the metaphor.

i don't agree with how mean + rude some people are being about steven lim rn, but frankly, his shows are the 30 second crayon drawing of the watcher channel. anyone can look at the view count on their channel + see that his shows consistently have performed worse than shane + ryan's shows. additionally, we can see that he blows huge amounts of money on his shows ("$913 seafood tower", "$1027 fried chicken") that may leave a lot of viewers feeling as if they're aren't getting as much bang for their buck.

frankly, i think people are valid for being upset that they're expected to directly foot the bill for steven's "i fly all over the world + eat expensive food while you watch" project. while youtube has a shit ton of problems (like, say, not paying their creators enough), one of the cool things about it is that you can gauge directly the amount of the interest in a project (and how many resources you should dedicate to said project) by how many eyes are on it. unfortunately for him (i guess), steven's shows just don't garner enough attention to justify the expense of making them.

which is why i see this shift to watcher tv as such a problem. this feels very much like using shane + ryan's success on the channel to force fans to fuel steven's pursuit of his glory days on worth it. it feels even more strange when they say that they're making the switch because the company isn't currently sustainable, but steven has just hired his friends from buzzfeed + continues to push his series that just don't seem to be making back the cost of production.

to be totally fair, shane + ryan don't get out of this clean either. some of their shows don't deserve to be behind a paywall either. too many spirits is filmed in ryan's parent's backyard with content submitted by their viewers. are you scared is just ryan reading creepypastas/fan submitted content on a minimal set. survival mode is just them playing games like any other streamer or gaming youtuber does. i love all of these shows, but are they on par with puppet history or ghost files? absolutely not.

this is where i think the disconnect is coming from. they're taking everything including the lower production shows to a streaming service where you have to fund them directly (rather than indirectly through ad revenue). they're forcing funding into steven's projects despite them just not doing well enough to justify the cost. they're coming across as disingenuous with their reasoning because their stated reasons for doing this don't align with their actions rn.

i feel like it would've made so much more sense to crowdfund new seasons of shows (which gives them feedback from the fans about what they want too) or put higher cost shows like ghost files or puppet history on patreon or channel membership. i would gladly fund mystery files, weird wonderful world, ghost files, puppet history, etc. with my own money, but i'm one of the ones who isn't really interested in funding steven's quest to eat all of the gold-plated kobe beef when i'll never be able to afford to eat at a restaurant that even serves it.

[i-just-wanna-write-fanfic]

i apologize i didnt specify but cody from tdi and the yandere alphabet

OH YES OF COURSE!!! ( I am scared of K-pop fans)

NOTES/WARNINGS what do you think bud?

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

ughghg boy needs to hug you 12819318984879324 times a day or he dies on the spot

NEEEEEEDS your attention and talk your ear off or her may just explode

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

uhh I don't think he has the balls to kill someone. he really wants to, but he always chickens out.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

FUCK NO! he just wants to smother and bother you all day. It may annoy you, but he's just so glad you're with him!

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He constantly needs to touch you, so holding hands at the very least.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

As much as you want, babe!

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He's a bit sad, but he gets it.

But he's getting you back.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

NO

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Every day is a new annoyance.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He has... no idea. So far his plans are that tomorrow he'll wake up, kiss you, hold you, and probably go back to sleep.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He gets SO angy. he normally lets it out once you get home or when you two are alone so he can walk around in a circle and rant.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's such a needy guy, he needs to hold your hand, he needs to have your attention, hold you near, talk to you, hear your voice, anything!

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He tried to talk to you a few times, but it never really went well (unless you think him telling you a horrible pick-up line and running away [and tripping in the process] is suave and the best way to get a girl/guy/etc)

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

nahhhh...

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He can't really do anything to hurt you in any way, maybe just some silent treatment, but he can't even bring himself to do that.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Not many! He only takes them away if you try to get away from him once too many times.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He's pretty patient! Unless you keep going away, then it'll thin.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

NUH UH!!!

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

nahhh. He needs your attention and love to survive!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Honestly, meeting Sierria kinda had a hand in all of this, all her clingyness and weird actions freaked him out, but soon he found himself doing the same to you.

Thankfully he noticed he was being a creep so he tried to tone it down to the best of his ability.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He feels horrible. He doesn't know why you're acting this way, but he'll do the best he can to soothe you...

He's lying to himself, he knows deep down inside he's most likely the reason you're crying, If he finds out it was someone else, he'll do his best to either hurt them or get them to leave you alone.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He's a total sweetheart and is way too soft on/with you.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

The fact he's soft on you. If you continue to build up his trust, he may eventually trust you to go out on your own. Just make sure to have a good excuse, or make it look like you're super excited to leave the house.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

no, No, NO, never! Never! He loves you too much!

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Ohhhh quite a lot! He really loves you, no matter how you meet. If the way you met was with you showing him some kind of kindness or love, he may feel he needs it... and just from you, please!

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

A few weeks or months, tops. That's if you're in the show together, but if not, it'll be a year or two so he can get more info about you. the games of the show already tell him so much about you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

...

Maybe.

But it's not like he wants to!

[midnightmoonytales]

𝕊𝕙𝕦𝕥 𝕀𝕥! |ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕊𝕝𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟 𝔾𝕒𝕟𝕘 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CW: Cussing, anger, threatening.... the reader has Misophonia.

A/n: Me reflecting.....maybe. Am I writing this because everything has been way too loud for me? yeah, I am. I've locked myself in my room because the sound of people even breathing or swallowing has irked me. I simply can't take it anymore. My doctors told me a few months ago that I had misophonia after I complained to her about it, meanwhile my family told me I was just crazy for years 💀. Felt great to know that I indeed was not crazy. It's short and probably not that well done, but I've been wanting to write and feed my babies - and this was a good way for me to finally write.

Unedited

Summary: An eventful dinner in the Great Hall with your friends, as you lost your precious earplugs.

<><><>

"Can you chew any fucking louder, you git." You grumbled, grown tired of Mattheos "loud" chewing. Dinner had only been served in the great hall moments ago, and Mattheos boarish eating had only grown louder as time passed - Along with the sounds of hundreds of students talking...you were losing your mind. Unfortunately, for you - you lost your earplugs in between third and fourth-hour classes today. While they weren't able to block out as much noise as ear muffs, they were more discreet.

"Shove it; I'm not even chewing that loud," Mattheo replied, the food in his mouth showing as he spoke. You resisted the urge to throw up at the sight of it. You would think he would learn some manners...but then again, both of his parents were deranged murderers, so he didn't have much going for him. "It's not my fault you lost your precious earplugs; maybe I don't know...lose them." He said, stabbing a piece of chicken and purposely eating it with his mouth open.

The others snickered, quickly shutting up as you glared at them. Blaise shook his head as he watched his friends; Theodore was enjoying watching Mattheo test death, wanting to finally see some action in this god-forsaken castle. Pansy had yet to be seen, unlike her, but none of you cared to look. She would appear at some point.

"You're going to lose the ability to breathe if you keep at it," You growled, waving your knife at him. No one could save him from the grave he was digging himself. He had found constant joy in tormenting you; it was his favorite pass time. Draco patted Mattheos back, signaling that he should surrender, but to no avail; he kept at it.

You were ready to lunge at him, but as if on cue, Pansy came sauntering to the Slytherin table. Taking her usual spot to the right of you, taking your attention off of the boy in front of you to the table. Alas, your earplugs were sitting in front of you. You started at them before tackling Pansy in a hug, quickly popping them afterward... It was as if the world had quieted down. No longer feeling as if your ears were no longer bleeding anymore. Mattheos' life being spared, all thanks to Pansy and her amazing finding skills.

<><><>

[08melancholie]

Untouched. — Micah/Reader

tags: Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Gentle Sex, Mild Hurt/Comfort, always have to include some angst sorry guys, Porn with Feelings, Angst and Porn, Emotional Porn, Blood, Porn with minimal Plot, Angst with a Happy Ending, Guilt, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Aftercare, Female Honorifics/Terms, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like Micah Bell, Established Relationship

summary: Virginity and sex have been a pretty taboo topic between you and your lover, Micah. You've been together a long time now and he's started initiating intimacy almost every night. But you were too scared, of the way the other girls described losing their innocences. So you turned it down every time. Finally, after realising how unfair you were being to Micah, you cave in, one fortunate night—surely, Micah will take care of you? It probably would have been smart to ask if the two of you both lost your virginities, first.

a/n: another micah fic to heal my unresolved trauma.. mmmmm yes. do u guys like your h/c with your smut or am i alone on this..

warnings: loss of virginity

words: 3,514 | AO3 LINK

You always heard that it hurt, stung and bled a lot. It made you afraid, that much was sure. What made it worse was how much Micah wanted it—he hinted at it every night when in bed with you. So many nights in which he'd do everything he needed to, hoping that you'd finally give in and finally sleep with him. But no; every night, you chickened out. All of the other girls had told their experiences, most of them sounding absolutely terrifying—some of them saying they were crying, even. It was horrific, and it scared you away from ever even wanting to lose your virginity.

But your lover never seemed to complain. Micah was quite understanding, even if he was unaware you were still untouched.

Another night approaches the two of you, hidden away from everyone inside Micah's tent. You're both already in your sleepwear, your back pressed to Micah's chest with his arm lazily slung around your abdomen. His face is buried into the crook of your neck, the exact space where the shoulder ends and extends to the neck. His breaths are slow and calm, but the energy feels weird. His actions feel a little reluctant, which you learned was usually an implication that he wants to ask something. So, you gently took his hand and squeezed to get his attention.

"Hm.?" He glanced at you from over your shoulder, groggily humming while fluttering his eyes open to see you in the dimly lit tent.

You slowly turned yourself around, wanting to look him in the eyes while you talked of this. "Something on your mind?" You feel his arm, on your back now that you turned over, tighten slightly—meaning you were right.

Micah was quiet for a moment, contemplating his answer while his hand went from lazily hanging into your body to holding it more firmly. "Just.. 'bout us." He mumbles his answer, partially scared to even bring this up. "I know.. you always say no to it. But, I would really like to show you.. my love in every way I can." His palm slowly moves around your lower back, caressing it through your thin nightwear in a circular motion.

You dreaded just talking about it, all your fear coming right back to you. You didn't want blood, tears, stinging and hurt. You didn't want that, not with your lover. "I know..." Your fear always got in the way before, that feeling of agony whenever this and any similar topic were brought up in conversation. Being the only person in camp still with your virginity, the girls who knew teased you relentlessly—don't even get started on the men. Alas, tonight felt a little different; you felt for Micah. He's been begging you for... months. It's all he's wanted from you for endless weeks, and he's been doing anything and everything to get you to agree. Micah has been so good to you, and yet you turn him down every time. It was pity you felt now, more than fear. And so, you prepare yourself to either make the best or the worst decision of your life. "I think.. tonight wouldn't be so bad." And there it is, finally out of your mouth.

You see Micah's darkened face lift to you, barely able to see you, but he's unmoving and just staring ahead at your face. After a moment, you hear him briefly and quietly chuckle. "Attagirl! I knew you'd come around, baby!" He's excited, like a child getting their favourite toy from the store, which makes this worth it no matter the experience. His arm tightens around you and he wastes no time scooting closer, giving you many reassuring and rewarding kisses and pecks on the lips, which you all return. His hand on your lower back is still massaging your back, but is now traveling lower, hovering over your rear. He brings his other hand into play, placing it on the back of your head and gently grabbing you by the hair, starting to deepen the kiss. At least you knew how to make out with him, thank God.

His hand finally reached your backside, and he gave it an experimental knead to hear your reaction—loving how you squeaked into his mouth at the sudden contact. So, he continued to massage your ass while deepening the kiss, his tongue finding itself exploring your mouth, not one singular crevice left untouched by your lover. You could feel yourself getting more hot, gradually. It was really happening. You had that same fear in the back of your head still, but it was overpowered by the lust slowly creeping up your body and down between your legs. "Let's do this right, hm?" Micah parts from your mouth and stops kneading at you, patting your rear before standing off the cot to light a lantern. He wanted to see you while he finally had you. "Lay on yer back for me, sweet thin'."

You do as he says—he's definitely the expert here—and shift from your side to your back, watching as he starts stripping off his shirt. The grey undershirt finds itself on the floor, and he gets back to the bed, this time climbing over you. It's a sight, seriously.

"Liking what you're finally seein', eh babydoll?" He lets out a brief chuckle before leaning back down to continue making out, one hand on your cheek and the other on your knee. His fingers are tinging, practically desperate to touch you, and it just sends more heat to your core and dampness to your underwear. He starts to slowly move his hand down, devilishly slowly. Your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer, and he started gently biting your lip. His hand slowly moved lower, soon enough finding itself on your inner thigh just under your chemise. "Let's see," he brushes over your clothed sex, finding you wet already and making you sigh into his mouth. It boosts his ego and he can't stop a small exhaled laugh leaving him. "damn, lookat'chu. Already so wet fer me?" He drawls, pulling away from your mouth to give you a breather. He fiddles with the hem of your undergarments, just barely sliding his fingers under it. "How about we get this off next?"

Your panties get tossed onto his shirt, and you feel very nude despite the chemise covering you perfectly fine. He's rightfully impatient to have you, and immediately swipes a finger through your folds to slick his finger up, the other hand fumbling with his jean zipper and button. It's happening. His slicked-up finger pressed to your entrance, slowly pushing itself inside as you mewled underneath him, just turning him more on with how responsive you were. "There we go," he pulls his jeans down while slowly entering and leaving your walls, fucking you with one finger. It's pure bliss; you're gasping at every thrust and curl of his finger, despite knowing what's coming every time. Then, he adds another digit. You moan, pleasure mixes with a small stinging, but it's soon drowned out by pleasure as Micah uses two fingers on your cunt, and starts rubbing circles into your nub with his thumb. "Shit, girl, you're tight." He comments, feeling how you clench around his digits and how hard it is to ease them in. He curls and scissors them inside you, more of your moans filling the tent. You look down at him as he slowly pulls his coated fingers out, seeing him kick his jeans off and pull his drawers down. It's actually happening.

He's fully nude now, crawling to your knees and beckoning you to sit up. You comply and he grabs the hem of your chemise, quickly removing it off your now bare body and throwing it to the other discarded clothing of yours. Both of you, nude as the day you were born. "You don't even know how purty 'ya are," He shimmies back onto the bed, looking down at you for a moment. "turn around, on your hands and knees." The command feeds into the fire in your abdomen, feeling butterflies practically attacking it. You roll over in compliance, lifting you hips up. You hear the cot creak quietly before his hands find your hips. It's finally happening. You cling to the pillow that the lower half of your face is buried into, grabbing fistfuls of the plush material to brace yourself. Good that you did. Micah—still unaware—doesn't even try to wait, and with no warm-up thrusts, he lines himself up.

The way the pillow muffles out the sound that escapes you, a pained and squeaky yelp, makes Micah unaware of the fact you're hurting. He's pushing himself in further, and you're gripping onto the pillow for dear life. The other girls were right—it burns, stings and you can't even move your body in protest. "Damn, girl.. still so tight?" Micah murmurs, but something just feels odd—even more so when he feels you start shaking. Tears have begun seeping out of your eyes, like the girls said they might. The pillow is absorbing every little drop, but it's your body that betrays you as you start shaking, and it all goes to shit. "Hey—honey, 'ya good.?" Micah leans over your back slightly, and seeing as he gets no response other than a muffled sob, he withdraws himself out of you, earning another yelp from you. And, that's when he sees it.

His tip is red, covered in both your slick and blood. He feels his body stiffen as he looks down at it, then at your bleeding sex. He's not a fool or an idiot; he knows exactly what it all means. "Jesus fucking Christ.." Micah instantly gets off of the cot, picking his jeans and undergarments off the floor. He doesn't even bother to wipe his shaft—now soft, from the realisation of the horrific situation he's put you in—before he tucks himself away, just staring at your weeping form as you shake. It takes him a moment to break out of it, but he's instantly coming over to comfort you as he does. "My God, I am.. so sorry, my sweet girl." He coos, walking to your side of the bed and gently rubbing your head, his palm caressing you as his fingers tangle in your hair. "I am a moron.. I never noticed or.. even asked—God, babydoll..." He curses himself mentally, the sounds of your crying fogging his brain completely.

You slowly sit up on the cot, with slight issue, wiping your face dry. "No.. I should have told you—it's why I never.." Micah nods and cuts you off with a "I know" as he extends his arms, his stomach churning at the sight of you like this. You don't need another word from him before you crawl over and fall into his arms, emotions higher than usual. Your tears overtake you again, and you're weeping into his shoulder while hugging him impossibly close. And so, It happened.

You always imagined your first time would be this.. fairy-tale moment you read about in books, but it was so much worse. Micah is cooing quiet reassurances into your ear, and you're crying into his shoulder as you're still bleeding down under. This, it was the opposite of what you read about—it was so much worse. "I'm sorry.. I ruined this for us." You mumbled against his skin, your words barely coherent.

"No—No, don't even say that." Micah practically scolds you, not even wanting to hear about any of that. "You didn't do anything, 'ya hear? I should have known.. or at least asked." He huffs and brings his head into your hair, sighing shakily against it. "So sorry, babygirl. I would have been.. so much gentler, if I knew." His voice is quiet and soft—highly uncharacteristic, but you like it, in a way. You just hug tighter to him, feeling a drop of your blood ooze down your thigh.

Once you two finally compose each other, Micah makes you take a seat on the cot. "I'm gonna take care of 'ya, doll. That okay?" You nod before he walks over to another corner of the tent, getting out a clean rag he keeps about before returning. He kneels before you, placing his free hand on your thigh. "Spread them," he can barely look when you comply to his command, seeing the blood again. He pushed his own feelings aside—you're doing much worse than he is—and gently parts your thighs some more before bringing the rag to your bloody mound, very carefully wiping you clean. You gasp a few times as the rough rag brushes over you, but bite your lip to keep quiet. Once he's done with you, he kisses your inner thigh and murmurs another apology before standing and turning away from you, unzipping himself free and wipe off what was on his shaft from before.

You're looking up at the back of his head; you feel guilty, terrifying him this way after you finally gave in to the one thing he was missing from you. "Micah.." He tosses the rag and hides himself back into his jeans, turning around to the sound of your voice addressing him. "I.. I don't want this to end."

Micah creases a brow at your statement, a tad confused. "Baby, we won't do anything you—" "I want to, Micah You cut him off, wanting him to understand, so badly. "You said you could.. be more gentle, right.?" Micah silently nodded, ready to hear you out. You look up into his eyes—guilt-ridden like your own, somber and hurt. Finally, after a long pause of melancholic eye-contact, you speak. "Can you show me?"

Silence fills the tent, and Micah can't find it in him to respond right away. He stares down at you sitting there, face ridden with dried tears and your body still nude. Even after he's hurt you, made you sob and weep and shiver—you'll still try to make it work. He's in awe with you, really. So many nights he spent wishing you'd let him in, let him show you love in the most intimate of ways he knows of, just for it to go so south. Alas, you're still willing; willing to try, for him.

The pause between you is hellishly long, so long you even start to feel a bit nervous. Micah breaks up the silence after what feels like years. "Are you sure, baby?" And as you silently nod, it's all he needs to hear. "I'll do this right, show 'ya how nice it can be." He steps up to you, kneeling before you once again. Micah's hands part your thighs, happy to see you not bleeding any longer. "You trust me?" He looks up at you from between your thighs—a sight you could get used to—as he asks. And you nod again; you do trust him, with your life.

Your wordless nod is enough for him, coaxing you to lay back with one hand on your stomach while rubbing and slowly parting your thigh some more. "I'm gonna take good care of 'ya, hm? You gonna let me, dollface?" Of course you'll let him; you couldn't find it in you to decline him even if you wanted to. Which you absolutely don't. You lean down but keep yourself held up to watch him. "Good," Where he would usually tease or prolong the process, he can't do it to you after what just happened. "did you like how I did it previously?" One quick glance and a nod from you before he lifts his hand off your stomach and slicks him thumb up on his tongue, pressing it to your clit and circling it around.

If he could, he'd get the sweet sounds of pleasure you let out on a record and play it on Dutch's gramophone every damn second of the day.

You're gasping and sighing, looking down at his moving digit over your sensitive nub with hazy eyes, your lips slightly parted the entire time. He's drinking it all in, your sounds and expressions as he works up the wetness between your walls again. You mewl his name a few times, and it instantly un-softens him. "Damn, baby.." He looks mesmerised with you, staring at you like you're the most beautiful thing to grace the planet; which, to him, you most certainly are. After he deems it long enough, he slows down his thumb, not stopping but still moving at a reasonable pace for you to meet him back on earth and in the tent from wherever the blissful experience took you. "Okay, I'm gonna start with one, is that alright with you, princess?" You simply nod, watching him show you his index finger. With your silent consent, he rubs around your entrance briefly before slowly sliding it in, making you gasp briefly but enjoyably. He slowly curls and thrusts it out and back in, repeating the process a few times before looking back up at you. "And, how many do you want me to stop at?" He asks his question carefully, waiting on your response. You contemplate your limit and decide on stopping at three for today, and he nods. "Let's see how that feels for you, hm?" He makes sure to slowly coax the second digit into you, watching your face—both for any discomfort and to see your pleasured facial expression. You sigh, fluttering your eyes closed and clenching around him, which he just gives a faint smile to. "I'mma go real slow, baby," He slides both fingers halfway and curls them, making you breathily moan and clutch onto the sheets. He withdraws them to the very fingertips, then pushes back in a bit more quickly, slowly and surely getting you used to the feeling. Soon enough, you're clenching tightly around three fingers, shuddering and groaning breathily.

"That's it, pretty girl." He's praising you all throughout the process, he's gentle and showing you he cares—that he loves you. He's doing exactly what he planned out; showing you his love in the most intimate way he knows to. He draws his three digits fully into you, a nice curl against your walls that makes you lean your head back slightly. "Heh, 'ya think that's good?" He keeps them inside you a brief moment longer before fully pulling out, giving your sweet juices a taste. You watch him pop his digits between his lips, practically sucking your slick out of his skin. You watch in awe.

He's quick to pop them out of his mouth, chuckling lightly at your reaction to it. "I got somethin' even better for 'ya, darlin'." He drawls, wasting no time in returning his thumb to your bundle of nerves. When you assume that's all, he still manages to surprise you.

Your head rolls back when his tongue enters your cunt, fucking into it. It's quick and repetitive, almost making your head spin from pleasure. You hadn't experienced something like it yet, and you just want more. You grip the sheets and lean back, spreading your legs more. Micah gives you a little hum, patting your thigh as praise with his free hand. Then, he grips it and places your leg on his shoulder, diving back in. This position is all the better—he's brushing all the right spots inside you, making you whine and squirm—and you feel the heat in your stomach rise with every thrust of his tongue to your walls. You let him know of this, and he hums into your cunt, which makes you squeak out another moan. This man...

It's not long before you arch off of the cot and squeeze your thighs slightly, your orgasm meeting you. Micah just continues to eat you out, his moustache getting soaked with the juices of your high. He stops when your legs un-squeeze and let go of him, moving his head away from between your thighs. His lips are glistening, and he comes up to give you a taste of yourself, stealing a long kiss from you while rubbing your outer thigh comfortingly. "Did so good, my girl." He breaks the kiss to grab the rag and wipe off the space between your thighs, affectionately kissing your neck and shoulder while he does so, slowly and enjoyably. Taking care of you how you imagined him to.

When he finishes, he helps get you back into your nightwear. "Next time you want to try, I'm makin' sure we're both ready," He lays himself behind you after blowing the lantern out, like you were before tonight escalated. "and I'll make it an experience you won't forget, babydoll." He kisses the nape of your neck, brushing his moustache over your bare skin while rubbing your abdomen lovingly, showering you in the comfort and praise you knew would come out of him one day.

You trust his words; you know he'll make you enjoy it one day.

Kudos on AO3 always appreciated! I finally finished this fic after putting it off for weeks.. thank you very much for reading it!

[mrghostrat]

i was hoping to stream this afternoon but i woke with my shoulders hurting so bad that i have absolutely zero capacity for anything. to the point where i experienced my first autistic rumbles in the supermarket 🥸 but i have adhd meds now so maybe we can try tomorrow.

zita's suspected i'm on the spectrum for a little while now, but i've always been on the fence about it. there's a lot i don't relate to. but most of that is bc i have so much learned behaviour, and i mask really well. when i try to break down how i think for autism diagnostic quizzes, my gut reactions DO fit the bill, but they are so so so buried under 30 years of life experience that feels like it comes naturally.

but i am an introvert. an extreme introvert. even while living alone with my best friend, who i get on perfectly with and feel zero need to mask around, i still need to excuse myself and be left alone in my room from 10pm at LEAST.

so i only really unmask when i'm dead alone. even though i dont feel like i'm putting up any kind of front around of zita, i still do, automatically. the only time i see myself completely bare is when i'm alone and it's silent and there is absolutely nothing challenging my comfort.

sooooo hoooooo boy waking up in pain, with zero capacity to even finish a thought, still empty of ADHD medication because of the fuckin manufacturing shortage (thankfully today's trip into town was to finally pick some up! but that wasn't until noon), i got to see a side of myself i don't know if i've ever actually seen before? maybe as a kid but i can't remember specifically that far back?

i've been short tempered and overwhelmed and exposed to sensory nightmares whilst home alone before, but it's usually so quick bc i'm at HOME and i can adjust the situation and i never think much of it. i felt like a bluescreen at that supermarket today, popping in for less than 10 things across 3 aisles.

it was so busy. there were so many people. i felt dread just to walk through it, so aware of my own body and the space i had to inhabit. but par for the course so far. what was less par for the course was having to stop and look at my list every 3 steps, unable to put together a course of action in my head: chicken is on the far left, so we grab that first and get broccoli on our way to the soup aisle. but the broccoli is right there. do i grab that first, go get the chicken, but then double back from where i just came? i might get myself some bananas too, how do i fit that into my path—

i had to keep stopping and looking at my list because every item i thought of made me forget the previous one i just looked at. eventually got fed up with myself and went to the closest thing and started there, regardless of whether i'd have to double back or not. that's what trips me when i take these quizzes n shit. i can get over the hump and do the task in the end, so that must mean i'm totally allistic! no autism here.

i remember thinking "jesus christ this is bad" when i was on my way to get zita's soup (if you've read this far, thank you and kisses to you, pls send some loving vibes to zita by reading her fic i just reblogged, bc she's got a cold and is miserable today) so i was kinda aware i was having a bad sensory day. as expected: there were a lot of people there, and i was in pain. but i just short circuited looking at soup. zita gave me the brand name and soup type of 3 cans she wanted. and i went to the aisle i've been to a thousand times, found the brand, and just stared. it was all stew. all chunky brothy things with bits in. not a single creamy soup in sight, so, the soup must be somewhere else.

i came to that conclusion immediately but i couldn't. process it? or like, what to do with that information. the soup is somewhere else. OR IS IT? keep looking at this shelf to make sure, your eyes are tired, you might've missed it. there's like 20 different cans of campbells here, just keep reading them left to right until soup appears. still no soup? read them again, you might've missed it. maybe campbell's is out of soup? read every other brand here until you Don't see soup, then you can walk away and try somewhere else. but if you don't see any soup, read it again because you might've missed it.

thankfully it took all of 30 fuckin seconds for a store employee who was shelving next to me to see my glazed fuckin stare and ask if i needed a hand with anything. and i stammered through some "haha my silly eyes today!! haha thanks! sorry, thank you!" as she happily pointed like 3 metres down the aisle for me, while my internal monologue immediately raged like "wtf why would they put the soup that far away but also barely far away at all, what's the point, bad design 😡"

got soup. check list: packet of gravy. zita told me the gravy was in the same section as the soup. it was not. i walked up and down that aisle five times and there was no gravy. i just. i had completely forgotten how to problem solve. it was the strangest, most frustrating experience. like i was looking at an empty word document in my brain, with a little flashing cursor and everything, so i knew it hadn't frozen over. it was just empty.

i even had the thought "just walk up and down the aisles until you find gravy; you have to do this all the time" and even had ideas of which aisles to start with. but my brain said no. we're not going to walk around aimlessly, even if we have a neat little structure and path to follow. we were told (by myself, too) this would be a quick in out trip, pluck the known items off the shelf and beeline straight for the checkout. so meandering down aisles was for some reason non negotiable. i wasn't in a rush. i had nothing to do today. i barely even felt a rush to get out of there, as busy as it was. it just wasn't an option.

so rather than start solving that problem i just jumped to the next thing on the list. strepsils. text to ask what kind she wants, have a whine about my broken brain, ask if she knows where the gravy is. remember when i pass the hair brushes that i broke my hairbrush this morning and need a new one!! oh and i've been wanting new hairclips too. look at me picking a new hairbrush and poking through the hairclips for one that i know will feel comfortable against my scalp, i'm not autistic because i can change my plans and make decisions on the fly.

oops didn't mean for this post to be an entire play by play of my thoughts through this extremely bland grocery shop. i cannot believe how long i stood there choosing soup. the line at the self checkout was so long and i felt the dread kick up again. barely/silently whispered "oh god" to myself when i realised the line, but repeated it about 20 times to feel the tap of my tongue against the roof of my mouth before i realised i was doing it. stop that, don't mutter to yourself. but i'm standing still in a line and there's nothing left to (ineffectually) problem solve, so the second i stop i notice a weird little slice in the plastic around the trolley handle that i can't stop flicking my thumbnail against.

OK. we need to stim. heard, chef. just click your piercing ffs. your mouth might look weird when you do it but at least everyone can see you're just clicking your teeth against your piercing, rather than talking to yourself or damaging public property.

something made a noise, can't even remember if it was a child or a trolley or what, some loud sharp single high pitched screech a few metres away, and i jolted so hard i thought i felt like i was going to throw up. finally think, fucking hell i'm autistic today. my back hurts. which is making my head hurt. i want to go home and take my vyvanse.

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Crepic: Letters

Synopsis: What if Cross’s ‘secret admirer’ was none other than Epic, a scientist attempting to establish communication with alternate universes?

Rating: Teen (just in case because of swearing and the characters’ backstories)

Pairing: Cross/Epic

Word Count: 1,567

Chapter One: Dear Stranger,

There was a letter on Sans’s desk.

He paused at the sight of it. He usually didn’t get letters, most of the mail directed to XGaster from the King and Queen. The letters he did receive were usually from Frisk, the human prince. Frisk was his childhood best friend and would often write to him either for playdates or for casual conversation. Usually the latter consisted of him gushing endlessly over the spider monster in the Guard, Muffet.

Sans thought his obvious crush was adorable, and couldn’t help the twang of pity he felt for his human friend who remained in the body of a young child even as the monsters around him shed their stripes, unable to receive anything other than rejection for his apparent youth.

Addressed to “Anyone On The Other Side”. Quickly inspecting the letter and flipping it over with an inquisitive hum.

What a strange term. ‘Anyone on the other side’ of what? The fence? An allude to the ever classic joke of the chicken crossing the road?

Or…

Sans gasped.

Wowie! Could it be? He finally received his first fan mail as part of the Guard?!

He knew he looked too cool in his badass armor, and with this letter he (potentially) held within his hands definitive proof! At last, he would bathe in the shower of magnificent affection he deserved!

Any recognition of his character would always brighten his day. Especially when his father, XGaster, gave so little of it…

Sans eagerly and carefully began the meticulous process of removing his armor, dismantling the pieces one by one until they were nice and clean. Gingerly hanging it into its suit container in his closet, he picked up the letter and sat down, ripping it open with a phalange and slipping out the singular piece of paper from the inside. A small blue square the size of his thumb metacarpal slipped out of the envelope as well, falling onto his desktop with a tiny clink.

He dismissed the strange tile after a quick once over ensured it was not some kind of bug or malignant spyware and turned his attention back to the paper. Unfolding it, his eyelights began to read.

Testing, testing, 1 2 3

…Huh?

That was certainly an interesting choice for a starter sentence, though Sans had to admit it got brownie points from him for its ingenuity.

Whelp, here we go! Hopefully this spooky action at a distance doesn’t get me ghosted. It would really lift my spirits if this actually reached somebody, and if somebody wrote back.

Sans chuckled. Although he wasn’t sure what the writer meant by ‘spooky action’, he did appreciate solid puns and clever jokes.

Theoretically, if my math mathed right, this should arrive in an alternate re—

Written in black penned ink, whatever the other had written was scribbled out.

—whoops, can’t say that. If I am right then I’d kick off some kind of butterfly effect, knowing my rotten luck. Can’t have that. Anywho, if somebody does get this, do me a solid and write a letter back. Put the pod, the little thingy I’m sending over, inside the envelope when you’re done after you push the tiny button in the middle. And hopefully this’ll be a two-way trip and send it back.

If not, oh well. I tried. Ya miss all the shots you don’t take, amiright?

…My name’s not Frank, but I’ll be real with ya pal, I really do hope this works.

Laters gators, A Friendly, Far-Off Neighborhood Bruh

Sans flipped the letter over just to be sure that was it, and let out a small, perplexed noise. No further writings or any other strange devices. He picked up the pod and dangled it across his black-gloved fingers and gently tapped the letter in his other hand.

It wasn’t a letter of admiration he’d been hoping for, but it was a letter that had him no less intrigued. The casual, almost informal way the sender wrote, the purposeful witholdance of a name or address. All this, including the odd device he was currently running across his digits, he should probably take it to father and let him inspect it for himself before Sans did anything.

He felt himself whither a little inside after that contemplation. He could already picture the quiet, sullen disinterest. Maybe leaving with a curt remark that he is busy, or needs to resume his work. No, Sans should be a good soldier son and leave his father be while he thought about how to address his impromptu pen pal.

For starters with a pen or pencil, he thought, snickering at his internal quip. What would be the harm? He’d greet the mysterious author back, perhaps make his own joke, and hope the letter successfully reaches them since they implied it might not.

Sans couldn’t help but hope that it did work.

Frisk had been…distant, for quite some time now. The Royal Guardsman wasn’t sure what had happened, only knowing that ever since they were kids, there’s been this sadness in the human’s eyes, a contradiction of both sullen resignation and steely determination. The moments of time they spent together in joy farther and farther in between.

He missed his best friend.

He missed having a friend.

Mind made up, he opened his drawer up and searched for his favorite pen with the tacos decal that Papyrus had got him for his birthday and a piece of paper and unused envelope. Uncorking the cap, he set to work, pen scratching along the paper as he hastily wrote his reply, the scritches filling the silence of his empty room.

Elsewhere, the co-Royal Scientist idly spun around in his swivel chair, languidly kicking his feet in and out to repeat the cycle whenever his momentum slowed. The clock ticking by behind him echoing in the otherwise empty room. Machines of various designs hummed with electricity. The others had already gone home for the day, long discouraged by the same unsatisfactory experiments depicting the same depressive results.

The Barrier was unbreakable. No one monster, let alone all of Monsterkind, could escape.

While the others including his dear old man (ugh, gross, just jokingly saying that gave him the ick) sought the comfort of whatever idle fancy they desired outside of work, Sans preferred anywhere that wasn’t there. Under the same roof with the same cold, aloof man he had the sincere displeasure of calling ‘father’.

And he couldn’t help but stay and hope that his gambit paid off. He didn’t care all too much about saving the Underground. Gaster’s metaphorical heart was as dark and cold as the prison all of monsterkind found themselves entrapped in. He’d fought long and hard his entire life to make sure none of that darkness ever put out the bright light of his younger brother.

If he was right, if this worked, he could get him and his brother onto the Surface. And potentially, eventually, all of the Underground.

A soft buzzing hum of static. Probably one of the appliances, he mused. When did they last get that fridge checked out? He’d make a note of it.

Instead of trying to get everybody out all at once and failing, Sans would do it one by one and succeed.

If this worked, that is.

It had been months. Who knew if he was even successful?

Then again, who knew if time was constant for every individual universe? For all he knew, his message could’ve gotten lost in the stone ages. Although it would be the coolest thing ever if he could ride a T-Rex, Flintstones style.

He spins around, practically slouching completely back onto the swivel chair. There’s the wall again. The fridge. Gaster’s creepy as all hell determination extraction machine. The wall. His desk. Fridge. Wall. Creepy doohickey. Wall. Letter on his desk—

Wait. Letter?

Sans sat up so fast he fell up and over his chair with a yelp. Landed flat on his face with his legs and lab coat over his head. Ever grateful no one was around to witness his embarrassing tumble he quickly stood back up to grab the envelope and rip it open with slightly trembling phalanges.

Dear Mystery Writer,

Receiving your letter was quite the pleasant surprise! I’m not sure what you meant by ‘spooky action at a distance’, but don’t worry, I don’t have any intention of leaving you at a dead end, and if you are open to it, would like to continue these messages. From what I’ve heard, nothing lifts the spirits like clever wordplay over the grave-vine.

Sans chuckled, tentative grin widening further. So they liked jokes too, huh?

If so, I can promise I’m not too boo-ring of a conversationalist.

Another small buff of laughter. Well, they sure did uphold their word. His crummy mood was all but gone now.

What do you say, mystery writer? Fr—

Scribbled out blurb for the rest of the word and the sentence continued.

Penpals?

Sincerely, A Magnificently Friendly Neighborhood Dude

Sans couldn’t believe it. He was right. He was right.

He’d successfully established communication with another universe. With someone from that alternate reality.

Holy multiversal theory, Batman!

Sans’s soul pounded in his Soul like a drum, joy unrestrained as he scoured his messy desk for an unused envelope and a blank piece of paper. He had a letter to write.

And a penpal to befriend.