#but it's all i've been able to think about since literally the second i realized dorian was leaving | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leascorner · 8 months ago

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j.s. | Welcome home

Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader

Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.

Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!

Masterlist

Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.

Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.

“Jake!”

The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.

“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.

Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.

He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.

“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”

“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.

Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.

During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.

Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.

It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.

“I am sorry about you and Nick.”

Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.

“You can lie better than that, Jake.”

“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”

It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.

“Was it him-”

“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”

Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.

So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.

“I do am sorry, though.”

“I know.”

It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.

The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.

Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.

“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”

And nothing in the house had changed either.

The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…

The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.

Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.

“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”

Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.

“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”

Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.

It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.

“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.

This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”

She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.

Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.

“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.

When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.

He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.

“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.

“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”

“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”

Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.

It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.

“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”

Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.

“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.

“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”

Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.

“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”

After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.

The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.

“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”

Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.

Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.

Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…

Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.

“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.

Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.

Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.

So far, the lunch had turned out great.

Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.

At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.

“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”

“No, not really.”

Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.

Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.

“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.

Boom.

The bomb had landed.

Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.

From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.

“You knew?”

Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.

Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…

“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.

“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”

Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.

Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.

She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.

“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?

“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.

“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”

Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.

Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.

“How can anybody be cool with this?”

Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?

“That’s not the same thing.”

Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.

It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.

“You’re being unfair.”

“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”

“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”

“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”

The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.

Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”

“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.

“Welcome home, Jake.”

Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.

Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.

She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.

Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.

It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.

So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.

Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.

Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.

He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.

Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.

Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.

When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.

She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.

Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.

He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.

“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”

She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.

“How would you know?”

“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”

This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”

“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”

Y/N snorted.

Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.

For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.

“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”

If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?

“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.

Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.

“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”

“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.

She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.

She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.

“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.

She was the one breaking his.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.

How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.

Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.

He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.

“Why are you really here, Jake?”

“What do you mean?”

“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”

They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.

Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.

“Goodbye, Jake.”

And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.

Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?

Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?

Javy: Almost.

Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.

Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.

Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.

Javy: You should talk to him.

Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.

Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.

In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.

More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.

After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.

When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.

“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.

Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.

In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.

That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.

“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.

“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.

“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”

Jake only nodded.

The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.

Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.

He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.

He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.

The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.

They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.

If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.

He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…

After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.

Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.

After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.

“Can we not?”

“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”

“Y/N, please.”

She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.

“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”

Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.

“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”

Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.

“Jake,” she sighed.

“I-”

His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.

He couldn’t lose her.

“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”

Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.

“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”

Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.

“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.

Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.

“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”

“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”

“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.

“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.

Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.

If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.

“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.

“I know.”

Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.

At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.

“Well, kiss me then.”

520 notes · View notes

delewlew · 4 months ago

Text

i'll kick your ass, verstappen: max verstappen x black fem! reader

request: HEYYYYYYY could you do a max x fem reader when he gets jealous really bad over one of your male friends please. Love your stories keep going 🤍🤍

warnings: jealousy, slight swearing, google translated dutch

author's note: i hope you like this, i lowkey fried my brain trying to make sure i was confident enough to post this...still trying to convince myself. also the title isn't as cute cuz my gradient thingie wasn't working so it'll be plain...sorry bout that. as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated as well <3

you were in second grade when you met your best friend, nikolaas, after he moved to your school. you were assigned to be his class buddy to help him get comfortable at the new school. the two of you attended the same school all the up to university so you weren't ever really apart from one another. the two of you learned to swim and ride bikes together as little kids. he was there when you went on your first date with the cute guy in your calculus class at the ice rink near your home, and he was there to take you to the hospital when you broke your ankle right after. you were there to help him learn to slow dance before he went to his first formal dance with a girl that wasn't you. he was there to teach you how to walk in that pair of So Kate's you bought without realizing maybe there was a reason nobody but zendaya dared to wear those godforsaken heels. you were there to coach him through confessing his feelings to his first boyfriend. the two of you had experienced so much of your lives beside one another that your relationship wasn't shaken when it was time to move away from home. years passed and he was a professional model travelling the world while you were working as an architect, living in monaco.

since living in monaco you'd been promoted, moved to a nicer apartment, completed a huge project with your team, and met your boyfriend. you met max at an event you'd been invited to courtesy of your own personal connections. from the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you there was something different about you from other women he's met in the past. that night, you both exchanged numbers and he'd convinced you to go on a date with him shortly after.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

for the first time since you'd moved to monaco, your best friend had finally been able to take time to come visit you. he'd flown in two days ago and was staying at your apartment for a bit longer before flying out to korea for some event he was invited to. you sat on your bed and he sat across from you painting a fresh coat of nail polish over his nails since the ocean water chipped it off earlier today. his hand shook slightly as he painted his fingers and your voice cut through the silence, "nikko i swear to god if you get black nail polish on my bed i'll kill you." he looked up through his long, thick, black eyelashes and muttered, "je bent letterlijk de meest dramatische persoon die ik ooit heb ontmoet." you rolled your eyes and huffed, "whatever you love me and you know it." he cracked a smile through the focused glare he held while looking at his fingers, "yeah yeah...speaking of love, how's your man?" [you're literally the most dramatic person i've ever met]

you smiled at the thought of max and answered, "he's really good. the season has treated him well for the most part and he's happy with how things are. we're going back home for his next race so i'm excited i'll be able to see both of our families, and i'm gonna try to stop by your place to see your mom if she's there." he shook his head while keeping his eyes on his nails, "m'ma is in suriname until september because she's visiting granm'ma and granp'pa." your frowned and asked, "were you supposed to go home with her?" nikko nodded and shrugged, "it's alright though, i think i'll be able to make it down there for christmas so it's fine. plus you can see her in september when she comes back." a smile tugged on his lips and he continued, "that is if you want to come see me walk at new york, paris, milan, or london fashion week this year." you nearly tackled him into a hug and screeched, "NO FUCKING WAY- NIKKO?! YOU BOOKED ALL FOUR?!" he laughed and wrapped his arm around you in a hug, "yup i'm booked and busy this year!"

you immediately promised, "i'm going to be at every single show." your best friend nodded, "already reserved your tickets for everything." there was a beat of silence before he asked, "wait isn't max still racing in september- i don't want to make you miss those especially because you missed miami for the met gala with me." this was true, you'd flown to new york city to be nikko's plus one for the met gala but max told you he didn't mind and was happy you were going. without a second thought, only thinking of how exciting this was for your best friend, you waved off his worry, "it'll be fine. besides max likes you."

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

"i don't fucking like this guy." max huffed as he scrolled though his instagram because you posted something. he looked at his screen and clenched his jaw seeing the post you'd made with your best friend.

therealyn

liked by nikko, maxverstappen1, and 643,943 others

therealyn baby's first time in monaco <3

read all 5,423 comments

nikko i wish i could stay longer :(

⤷ therealyn don't forget me when ur famous

sza cuties

⤷ therealyn omg i love you

username1 why is he so close?

⤷ username2 they've been friends since they were 7 and nikko moved to the netherlands from suriname. y/n was his first friend and they've grown up together. don't try to start something out of nothing.

⤷ username3 GET EM SIS

⤷ username4 ngl i kinda see what username1 means...if you look back at some other posts they've made with each other they're way closer than i'd consider to be best friends. i mean i personally wouldn't be that close with my guy bsf knowing i have a man.

⤷ username4 that man is a walking pride flag be so fr rn

⤷ username1 im just saying he's a little close to her. plus she's already missed a race so she can go see him, and i guarantee you she'll do the same again when fashion week comes around.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

reading the comments didn't ease max's mind whatsoever but he did catch a few that did make him realize that maybe you were just being a supportive best friend. he'd had friends go to things to support him in the past and he's done the same for them so why does he feel so...weird when you do the same? he'd managed brush off the feelings he had until he checked your story and clicked on the post you'd shared:

nikko

liked by therealyn, gucci, and 1,235,099 others

nikko but none of them will ever love you the way i do it's me and you

view all 10,302 comments

therealyn and as the years go by our friendship will never die

kendalljenner beauties

username6 ...why is he holding her like that.

⤷ username7 i think they're together? i always saw their posts together and assumed

⤷ username8 NO THEY'RE NOT TOGETHER THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS PLS DON'T START RUMORS SHE IS DATING MAX VERSTAPPEN

username9 this look a little....

username10 yall are so weird. literally every interaction nikko has with a girl looks like this, look it up and you'll see he's holding everyone's hand, wrapping their arms around them. it's just how he is pipe down.

username11 THE CAPTION? NIKOLAAS UR BOLD FOR THAT ONE

username12 ngl i kinda wanna see them as a couple

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

max fought to control his facial expressions when you called him excited to tell him about going to support nikko at the big 4 fashion weeks. he watched as your eyes sparkled, "he's already reserved the seat in my name at all of his shows too! this is so great he's always wanted to walk in these shows and now he's got the chance. i want september to already be here." max frowned at the mention of the month, "schat- i'm still racing in september though?" you explained, "well yeah it's just singapore and azerbaijan that i'll have to miss but i'll be at the rest." max bit the inside of his cheek, "didn't you already see him walk in new york back in may? you missed miami for it remember?" you smiled, "babe that was the met gala, that was different. this is actual fashion shows not a red carpet."

when max was still silent you asked, "why don't you seem happy doe nikko?" he took a small exhale to not raise his voice or seem too annoyed, "it's good for the guy i mean this is a big deal as a model. i just...sometimes i think he's just a little too close?" you frowned and you asked, "what do you mean? you've never had a problem with him before?" max sighed and admitted, "i'm just saying there's no reason why other people should be questioning our relationship status when you're with other people. why is he holding you like i hold you?" you couldn't even find the right words for a moment, "i- i- he....max you've seen the way he acts around everyone. he's a touchy guy and he always has been. why are you now bothered that he holds me? it's nothing new."

max let out another annoyed huff and snapped, "just tell him to watch himself." you couldn't even say anything before he hung up the phone on you and left you stunned to a silence. just then your phone pinged and it was another instagram notification:

nikko just posted a story!

there wasn't even a point in trying to ask nikolaas to delete the story because he was on a flight to korea right now which means he just posted it before the plane took off. so all you had to do was hope maybe max wouldn't see it because although you had no issue with the photo, you knew right now your boyfriend would.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the instagram story made it's way to his eyes in less than 5 minutes after it was posted. so, max didn't hesitate to open his own photo gallery and select a few pictures before posting them himself, he pasted a caption from the ones you'd saved in his notes and posted it before turning off his phone.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, f1wags, and 649,779 others

maxverstappen1 mijn

view all 3,402 comments

therealyn answer your phone

username13 HE'S MAD HE SEEN THE POSTS

username14 max....

charles_leclerc mate, you posted on your main

⤷ maxverstappen1 i know.

⤷ charlesleclerc oh!

oscarpiastri i feel like i wasn't supposed to see some of these

⤷alex_albon i don't think any of us were...

⤷ therealyn you werent.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

hot tears stung the corners of your eyes as you stared at your phone knowing full well why max posted the photos he did. you knew that he got jealous every now and again but he'd never done anything like this, especially when it came to nikolaas because he knew how close he was to you. max wasn't answering your phone calls or text messages so you had no way to actually call him.

meanwhile max was in his apartment on his sim when he heard a knock at his door. when he opened it he saw lando standing on his doorstep before he pushed his way into his apartment. max asked, "why are you in my apartment?" lando shook his head and countered, "why are you posting shit like this online?" a smug grin tugged at max's lips and he answered, "you know why."

lando sat on max's couch and responded, "i don't know why. what i do know is your girlfriend called me crying asking me why you weren't answering her calls." max huffed, "she's busy playing with that guy." lando ran a hand through his curls, "you're jealous of her best fucking friend? are you being serious right now?" max rolled his eyes and lando continued, "the guy wears nail polish and face glitter and you think something is going on between them?" when there was silence lando continued, "mate he literally flirted with charles and asked for his number when he came to zandvoort last year. then told alex that she had good taste because he wanted to quote 'drink him up and sop up the rest with a biscuit. and you think there's any way that something is happening with y/n? you can be jealous but if your girlfriend says there's no reason to worry then you should trust her. you need to fix this before something actually happens that can't be fixed." lando slapped max on the shoulder before walking out the door and heading back to his apartment.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

it was nearly 3 am when max unlocked the front door to your apartment and slipped in quietly, kicking off his shoes and leaving them by your front door. he pulled back the door and grabbed one of his t shirts and took off his pants before climbing in your bed. he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your torso. when you moved his arm off of you he knew you were awake so he mumbled, "schat..." you answered plainly, "wat wil je, max?" your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your shoulder and responded, "i'm sorry. i was wrong and i was immature and posting those pictures knowing you had them in our private folder was wrong." there was a momentary silence before you asked, "waarom heb je het dan gedaan?" he let out a deep sigh as he admitted, "i was jealous and only thinking about myself in the moment instead of thinking about how my actions would affect you as well. i never want to hurt you or be the reason for your pain, but i was so i'm sorry." [what do you want, max? // then, why did you do it?]

you felt his hand run over your arm gently as you asked, "wat ga je doen om het te repareren?" max answered, "well i deleted the post first and came here to apologize second. also i'd love to see you go to london, paris, new york, and milan to support nikko in september. i'll be waiting at home for you the minute you get back." you turned to face him and opened your eyes, finding his gaze in the darkness. bringing your hand to his cheek you asked, "i never want you to think that anyone stands a chance at competing with you for my heart, maxie. you are my person and i only love you this way, i only want to be with you. there's only you in my heart and i need you to trust me when i say that, okay?" max leaned into your touch and nodded, before you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "i love you." he pulled you to his chest and tangled his legs with yours as he replied, "ik houd ook van jou." you nuzzled closer to him and brought a hand to his chest, tracing small patterns over his heart. both of you began to drift off to sleep, your voice cut through the silence, "but do that shit again and i'm kicking your ass, verstappen." max let out a small chuckle and admitted, "i don't doubt that, but you don't have to worry about it happening again." [what are you going to do to fix it?//i love you too.]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the end.

213 notes · View notes

transmascaraa · 6 months ago

Note

Hi!! I saw that requests are open 😈😈😈

may I humbly request Ga ming, Bennett, Tighnari, Cyno, Freminet and Scaramouche with a reader who uses gen alpha slang like Gyatt, skibidi, rizz, ect?

Like they the most serious person ever but says stuff like "oh my gyatt 😧 (in a sophisticated accent ofc)" "that wasn't very skibidi rizz of you..." AND THEY ARE DEAD SERIOUS (bonus points if they're like royalty or something)

IVE BEEN OBSESSED WITH SAYING "oh my gyatt" AND IM NOT EVEN GEN ALPHA 💀💀

-with many love and thy prayers,

🍓 anon

multiple characters headcannons!

gen alpha typa humor

characters: gaming, bennett, tighnari, cyno, freminet, wanderer x gn!reader

author's note: i say some phrases ironically too💔💔 but it's not THAT SERIOUS bro i fear MOST of gen alpha it's not funny anymore😔 have fun reading cuz i died 27 times writing this

✿ Gaming

-taking into hc that he's gen z btw

-he knows exactly how horrifying the words and phrases are BUT

-after he heard you saying:

-"shush gaming i'm gonna ruin my mewing streak!"

-he looked at you dumbfounded for the first few seconds as if you told him some gibberish

-but after he realized what you said he kinda just started hysterically laughing

-probably would start tickling you afterwards and if you just don't let him, he'll tell you:

-"okay fine gigachad, i won't interrupt" barely being able to pronounce a word due to him laughing like that

-yeah it's just him laughing at you a lot in the relationship lmfao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♡ Bennett

-definetly doesn't understand a thing at first

-like the first few months, he just awkwardly laughs when you say something like that

-hoping that you won't question him

-but in the end, he asks YOU to tell him wtf is any of that

-first, he asked you what does "gyatt" mean.

-and you told him:

-"ass." with the most dead serious eyes ever possible.

-and he just looks confused

-until he gets to learn even more of the words/slangs and kinda

-just becomes like you unfortunately

-now you both use gen alpha slang sadly and people give you weird looks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⑅ Tighnari

-aeugh

-he feels as if he has 2 cynos in his life since cyno uses it too

-dies inside whenever you say some slang/word

-dies even more when in public

-like he was literally so embarrassed once when you screamed:

-"I LOVE ALPHA MALES!!!" in public from where he just dragged you away and was embarrassed for the rest of his life

-he literally has trauma from some situations(that was one of them)

-he loves you, he js thinks you're weird.

-VERY weird.

-ABSOLUTELY WEIRD.

-it's the worst when he's hanging out both with you and cyno at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

๑ Cyno

-he uses it too.

-i've already mentioned it in tighnari's part but you cannot change my mind.

-so you use it together.

-you piss people off together.

-(preferably tighnari, along with alhaitham and kaveh, and also any of the other women/girls from sumeru)

-basically partners in crime.

-like you were at some restaurant with him and tighnari, whereas you're showing them the people you've met in fontaine.

-you show them a picture of wriothesley and immediately look at cyno dead serious.

-"this is wriothesley, he has the gyatt that arataki itto from inazuma doesn't. literally level 3 gyatt. it is crazy how a man-" that's when tighnari tiredly said he's going to the bathroom.

-too bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✷ Freminet

-embarrassed literally 24/7.

-if in public, 25/8.

-he understands everything you say and all but no way in hell that he will be okay with it especially when other people are around.

-he actually tried confronting you about it but like you just replied with:

-"but i won't be the rizzlord if i don't do that, y'know?"

-he just sighs hopelessly.

-unfortunately he cannot change you in any way, shape, or form

-take it easy on him like bro don't embarrass him too much lmfao

-he even tried telling 'father' but she had no clue what the words meant in the first place

-so he kinda js gave up there

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Wanderer

-he hates it. like he absolutely DESPISES it.

-it doesn't even have to be in public, he's leaving the conversation the second you say something gen alpha

-"you see and that guy was so fucking annoying, yeah?"

-"mhm." he replies.

-"exactly, that wasn't a really skibidi nor sigma male thing to do, especially including his jawline, does he ever even mew-"

-he just continued walking and you had to literally CHASE him to make him continue walking with you. you're gonna be the death of him smh

-and it was fine for a while until you saw something and just screaming:

-"OH MY GYATT-"

-he then left for sure and you found him just when you came back home.

-probably didn't talk to you for a while after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

uhm

yes

| 🍓anon | @mariaace <3

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changetyre · 1 year ago

Note

MORE OSCAR SMUT PLEEEEEASE. The last one slapped. maybe where he rescues you from a creep? Idk. Thanks in advance!

Please II Oscar Piastri ⓈⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: After a scary encounter you seek comfort in your savior..

WARNINGS: **18+**, creep, violence, assault. Not proofread.

A/N: I'm a little behind on requests but with Christmas coming up I've been busy with gift finding, uni, seeing friends and family, and whatnot. Also, I'm really shit with endings so...srry.

"Yes, Dad I'm on my way back I promise." You spoke to your dad on the phone as you walked back to the hotel from a Red Bull party a few blocks down.

Being the daughter of a team principal came with its perks, being able to travel for free and meeting really hot Formula 1 drivers were just some of them.

Tonight you'd been invited to a Redbull party at the Las Vegas GP where you weren't even half surprised to see a Redbull car hanging from the ceiling. You hadn't even realized how late it was only intending to be at the party for a few hours knowing the next day would be busy.

Your dad had asked you to text him when you were on your way back and thinking you'd forgotten your dad had gone to sleep only to receive a text nearing 3 am where he decided to call and scold you...as usual.

"Dad calm down, there's literally people everywhere it's not like I'm completely alone, and besides I'm here in the lobby already." You rolled your eyes at your dad's dramatism.

"I expect you to be up and early tomorrow." Your dad simply said before hanging up.

You laughed as you walked to the elevator. The doors were about to close when a hand stopped them from shutting completely and they opened again.

In came a man who looked completely wasted already making you stand up straighter, warning signs going off inside your head. The doors shut and the second warning sign came when he didn't press a floor button.

You made yourself small trying to not grab any attention tucking yourself into the corner hoping the man would just leave you but as soon as you saw him slowly turn to you and smirk you knew that wouldn't be the case.

"what's your name baby girl." He stumbled all the way to you trapping you in the corner. You turned your head avoiding his face, the stench of alcohol dizzying you.

"Please get away from me." You tried your hardest to sound firm.

He laughed. "c,mon we're just having fun." He let his body fall onto you, his weight trapping your hands beside you.

"GET OFF ME!" This time you screamed louder fear present in your voice.

"Just relax." The man then whispered as he put his mouth on your neck trying to plant kisses all over as you tried wriggling away with all your strength.

"HEY!" You had completely missed the fact that the elevator had stopped and apparently so had the creep since the next thing you knew he was getting thrown off you.

You breathed a sigh of relief at the fact he was finally off you and even more at seeing a familiar face.

"y/n?" Oscar realized it was you which only angered him further. "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!" You heard Oscar scream before landing a punch to the man's jaw.

The next few minutes were a blur, you saw a hotel maid run by to see what was going on before guards were called. Oscar demanded they arrest the man and check the security cameras in the elevator to which the hotel staff assured they would do so and more and apologized greatly to you and him for what happened.

You simply nodded and gave short answers but wanted nothing more than to simply get away from all of this already.

"Hey let's get you back to your room." Oscar placed a gentle hand on your arm. You leaned into his touch and he put his arm around your waist keeping you close as he walked you to your room.

"Thank you." Your voice was still shaky but you felt much better now that it was over.

"Oh no don't need to thank me, he should've never touched you," Oscar replied.

You arrived to your room and you opened the door, turning around on the doorway to face Oscar.

"Uhm Oscar could you-"

"I'll leave you-" Oscar spoke at the same time as you.

You both froze waiting for the other to speak but you took the opportunity. "Can you please stay with me?" You asked him.

"Are you sur-" Oscar didn't want to overstep.

"Please. Please Oz." You begged.

And that's how Oscar found himself lying beside you in the hotel bed. It was awkward, he wasn't sure what to say or do and his nerves only increased when you'd scooted closer to him laying your head on his chest.

"uhm you okay?" Oscar chose to break the silence noticing neither of you were even close to falling asleep, you drawing circles on his chest a good indicator.

"I'm better now." shivers filled Oscar's body at the change in your tone, your voice was softer but more sure now. You looked up at him and Oscar just about stopped breathing at the closeness.

You weren't sure what it was exactly but the closeness you felt with Oscar had made you feel...warm in all sorts of places and you wanted more. Propping yourself further up you pressed your lips to Oscar.

You could feel the initial shock from him before he started kissing you back, combing your hair back with his fingers as he deepened the kiss.

You let out a soft moan at the fact things were quickly getting heated but were frustrated when all of a sudden Oscar pulled away standing up and taking a step away from the bed.

"No...no this isn't okay you've just- I can't- you're vulnerable and-" Oscar stuttered, it didn't matter how much he really wanted this he couldn't take advantage of the situation like this.

"Please Oz." The way the words had such different meanings from just a few moments ago. "I want this...I really want you." You said as you kneeled on the bed facing him.

The way Oscar's dick throbbed was criminal enjoying the way you so prettily positioned yourself on the bed wearing nothing but an oversized shirt which didn't do much to hide the space between your legs and he'd be blind not to notice the way your nipples poked out.

"Fuck-" Oscar cursed himself.

"Please Oz make me feel good." Your innocent voice almost made him pass out right then and there.

Look, maybe he was a horrible person for this...but he couldn't resist.

Stepping forward Oscar pulled you towards him by placing his hand on your neck, he knew you liked it as soon as you moaned into his mouth.

He slowly pushed you back onto the bed as he got over you not breaking the kiss. With his other hand, Oscar used his thumb to play with your nipples loving the way you squirmed at his touch.

He began kissing down your neck while his other hand began caressing your bare legs inching higher and higher slowly.

"Ah, shit...ah." He smirked at the reactions he was getting from you taking the time to tease you a little as his fingers just grazed over your panties but not just yet putting any pressure.

"Oscar just touch me already...please." Oscar had never felt anything like it when you grabbed his hand and brought them closer to you.

He let you partially take control as you began using his hand to rub it against yourself for a few seconds before curling your fingers through the back of his hand and placing it inside your panties.

"Holy shit you're gonna kill me," Oscar whispered to himself as he felt the way you guided his fingers through your folds before rubbing circles on your clit.

Oscar let you do what you please with his hands as he continued kissing the rest of your body not caring the way he was leaving marks practically everywhere.

"Please fuck me." You then asked.

The way you seemed to ask for everything so nicely only made Oscar want more and more of you.

"Of course baby." He whispered as he pulled his hand out of your panties with a little reluctance from you so he could strip himself off his clothes.

He saw as you were about to take your shirt off. "Leave it on," Oscar demanded, there was something about you in an oversized shirt with the idea of being bare underneath that just made the ache between his legs a little bigger.

You smirked noticing the desperation in Oscar's voice. Once he freed himself Oscar climbed back over you before holding his dick and rubbing it through your folds a few times.

You rolled your eyes back at the anticipation just waiting for him to fill you up already and it didn't take long before your wishes were fulfilled.

Despite the fact Oscar wanted to fuck you senseless he reigned his needs in and took his time thrusting into you, letting you adjust to his size and length.

"Fuck that's so good." You muttered breathlessly. "Faster Oz please."

You begged the knot in your stomach building up with each second.

Oscar propped his elbows beside you to steady himself before he started setting a pace, loving the way you immediately wrapped your arms and legs around him trying to pull him closer.

"sh*t you're so tight." Oscar could feel the way your walls almost clawed at him every time he pulled back out. "It's like you were made just for me, right baby?" Oscar had never truly been vocal during sex but there was something about you that just made him want to talk.

"Yeah...yes." You replied breathless again having a hard time focusing on his words from the overwhelming pleasure that was building up.

"You're taking me so good." Oscar smiled as he noticed the way your moans got louder and your breath quickened.

"Oz I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna cum." You cried out.

"Cum baby." Oscar was close too but to be honest he didn't care if he didn't finish as long as you did. After a few seconds, he could feel you clenched around him before your body shivered underneath him. His pace initially quickened before gradually slowing down fucking you through your orgasm.

And even though he thought he'd need more the sight of you coming undone seemed to be enough for Oscar as he pulled out pushing your shirt a little higher as he shot his load onto your stomach.

"Fuck." Oscar groaned at the sight of you clutching your breasts as he came onto you. "Shit, that was amazing." Oscar panted as he came down from his high.

"Yeah...you made me feel so good Oz." You replied innocently once more as if you hadn't just done the filthiest thing with him.

"Any time." He smirked as he helped you clean up.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #smut #f1smut #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1fic #formula 1 #changetyre #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #op81 smut #op81 x reader

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becauseimanicequeen · 7 months ago

Text

Up Poompat Appreciation Post

This is inspired by this post by @clairedaring which almost physically hurt me because it's so sad.

Therefore, I'm reporting for duty to gush about Up Poompat for a minute or two (or ten) because I want to and because Up is amazing and deserves all the praise I can give him.

There's just something about Up that pulls me in. I haven't previously been able to put my finger on it (I'm more of a visual person rather than a verbal one), but I think his portrayal of Ming in My Stand-In clarifies it for me the more I get to see him in it.

It's the way he portrays depth. There's something deeper, something more that goes on beneath the surface of his characters. And he does it again and again. It's most notable for me in Lovely Writer, Hoon Payon, and Step By Step, which are three very different roles.

And, on the subject of variety. This man can play a multitude of different roles and do it convincingly. It doesn't matter if it's as an introverted writer with a kind heart, an obsessive serial killer, or everything in between. He's believable in all of it. He's just that good.

To think that this loveable cutie in Lovely Writer...

Is played by the same actor as this frustrating, self-absorbed idiot in Step By Step...

Which is played by the same actor who portrays this spoiled rich brat who's always pining after what he can never have, and does so convincingly, speaks to Up's versatility.

(It took me waaaaay too long to find a gif of this particular moment, lol, but I eventually found it here.)

I personally love Up as Ming in My Stand-In (I'm not influenced by the novel, btw) because he's shown over and over again that he can portray a variety of complex characters. And the way he uses contrasts in his acting (I have no idea if there is a technical term for this because I don't know anything about professional acting), the way he has this sweet demeanor at the same time as he delivers the most poisonous line (and, sometimes you don't realize how poisonous that line was until later) is top notch. The same goes for his ability to portray a domestic life with Joe that feels genuine from Ming's side as well (which he did so well in ep 3) at the same time as we know it won't last due to Ming's jealousy (especially around Joe and Sol) and his pining for what he can't have.

Speaking of contrast, there's also the fact that Up was blessed with his angelic face, which just gives me whiplash every time his character turns out to be the complete opposite. He can literally disguise his serial killer tendencies with that angelic face and demeanor and I feel so manipulated (in a good way) when his character's true face is revealed.

And the way he uses his face to portray different emotions and shifts in emotions is amazing.

And then there's Up. As in, the person behind it all. The Up that actually lives up to his angellike face. The Up that's genuinely sweet and funny (which you can see on his YouTube channel, where he's currently posting videos with Poom but also has a lot of older ones with Kao whom he partnered up with in Lovely Writer). And the Up that sang "You are My Sunshine" in the bts of the second episode of My Stand-In. If that's not endearing as hell, I don't know what is.

This is just a fraction of all the things I love about Up (and I could spend days gushing about his chemistry with everyone he's paired up with and worked with), but since I've already spent two hours on this little post (lol), I'll save that gushing for another day.

Just know that I love Up.

#the ACTOR he is!#he eats complex characters for breakfast lunch and dinner #and let's not forget the snacks in between #I love him so much #Up Poompat #my stand in #my stand in the series #lovely writer #lovely writer the series #hoon payon #step by step #step by step the series #thai ql #thai bl #thai series #my shit

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crypticreid · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER DAY TWO

October 6 -- Phone Sex

masterlist

author's note: first of all, I've been so overwhelmed with the amount of support I've received so far on my first post. Truly, it means the world to me, so thank you! 💖💖💖Also, I've started a tag list for kinktober. If you would like to be added, please reply to one of my posts or message me!

summary: after injuring yourself, you've been forced to stay home from a case and you miss Spencer more than you'd like to admit. Lucky for you, he's missing you just as much.

warnings: female reader, masturbation, guided masturbation, horny ramblings, a little bit of spencer dominance, dirty talk

word count: 2.8k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

Your apartment was spotlessly clean. You’d spent almost the whole day organizing and scrubbing and even rearranging furniture. You hadn’t been able to sit still all day, distracted and bored at the same time.

While on the last case a few days ago, you had sprained your ankle pretty bad. At least bad enough that Hotch had basically forced you to take a few days of leave. You argued that you could work the current case from the office with Garcia, but he’d simply leveled his ‘this isn’t up for discussion’ look at you, and you shut your mouth. Reid had offered to drive you home and then spent the entire night pampering you and not even letting you lift a finger. Then he had to leave for this case, and you were alone. Which had been okay while your ankle throbbed, but now your ankle was perfectly fine, and you were dying being stuck at home.

You were restless, but nothing you did helped. And now you’re frustrated.

You bite down on your bottom lip as you try to think of literally anything else you can do to keep your mind busy. Your eyes fall onto the clock hanging on the wall, and you notice that it’s almost midnight.

There’s barely a slim chance that he’ll pick up, but you grab your cell phone anyway and call Spencer. It rings for several seconds until his automated voicemail picks up. A sigh falls from your lips.

“Hey, Spencer. It’s me. I know you’re busy. I just – I just miss you.” You sigh again and feel slightly annoyed at how pitiful you sound. But it’s true.

It’s been hard to sleep since he’s gone, both because you’ve realized you spend too much time worrying about him and because the bed feels so empty without his long limbs taking up an unfair amount of space. You miss laying on the couch with your feet tucked under his thigh as you both read in comfortable quietness. And you hate how empty your apartment feels without him here. “Anyway, stay safe. And I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”

You hang up the phone and slump onto the couch with a groan. After a few minutes of trying to read, you give up and decide to take a shower and head to bed. You toss your cell phone onto your bed as you take off your clothes and grab a towel. In the bathroom, you turn on the shower, and as you wait for the water to warm up, you glance at the mirror.

You see your naked body, the body that Spencer spends so much time worshiping. Your hands graze up your thighs, remembering how his hands grab onto them when he holds you pressed against his mouth as his tongue brings you to orgasm after orgasm. You continue your journey upwards across your stomach where he presses kisses and murmurs how much he loves you, to your breasts where he licks and nips and takes your nipple in between his teeth.

A warmth begins to gather low in your belly, and you feel the beginning twinges of need in your core. Quickly, you blink away the images of Spencer and drop your hands to the cool counter of the sink. You take a few deep breaths as you lean against the counter.

In the shower, you can’t help it when your hands caress your skin, paying special attention to your breasts. You moan out loud alone and realize why you’ve been so restless today. There’s a slight blush coloring your cheeks at the understanding. You rush through the rest of your shower and dry off with the towel so you can throw back the comforter of your bed and settle into the freshly cleaned sheets.

You start to rub your thighs, massaging and focusing on the sensation against your skin. With your eyes closed, an image of Spencer emerges, leaning over you, touching you. No, now he’s lying next to you, he’s breathing against your neck right after he kisses below your ear, and his hands leave your thighs and travel across your stomach. Just the fingertips, almost tickling, raising the anticipation, and he smiles when you take a sharp intake of breath before he reaches your breasts. Your hands are smaller than his, so it isn’t exactly the same sense of pleasure, but it works for now.

If he was here, Spencer would be kissing your neck, so gingerly, and then he’d laugh lightly against your skin when you’d squirm impatiently. But since he isn’t here, you don’t have to tease. Release was only a few minutes away. Your fingers gather the wetness at your core and glide upward toward your clit.

Instantly, you sigh at the contact and begin leisurely circles on the sensitive bud as your imaginary Spencer looks into your eyes. He would lean down to kiss your lips, just as slowly as his fingers moved on you, his tongue teasing your lips, but never giving himself over to you fully. Not yet. You moan his name and speed up your fingers.

The pleasure rises deep within you, your hips moving in tandem with your fingers, and you apply just a little more pressure. Another sharp intake of breath, and you can tell you’re close.

Your phone rings. You freeze your motions, unaware of your surroundings for a split second, but then you force your eyes open and scramble off the bed. The ringtone is somewhere in the room, but you can’t remember where you left your phone.

The phone rings incessantly as though it’s mocking you as you feverishly search for it. When you pull the comforter off the bed harshly, a loud clang on the floor confirms the phone’s location. You grab it and answer breathlessly, “hello.”

“Why are you out of breath?” Spencer asks on the other end, a thousand or so miles away.

You press a hand to your sweaty forehead and then push sticky strands of hair off of it. “Oh, I was in the shower, and I heard the phone ringing in the bedroom.” You lie even though Spencer is a genius profiler and would most likely see right through it. But the idea of admitting to him that you were touching yourself to the thought of him made your stomach do somersaults.

There is a small pause before he replies, “I’m sorry for interrupting your shower.”

“I was done. It’s fine.” You chew on your bottom lip.

“Oh, good. I got your message.”

“I’m sorry for bothering you.” You sit on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t apologize. It was nice to hear your voice.” His words make your heart flutter. “I miss you.”

You sigh, “I miss you too,” and lie back horizontal across the bed, your feet dangling off the edge.

“I’ll be home tomorrow. We wrapped up the case about an hour ago, but there’s a bad thunderstorm, and flights were grounded.” You picture him alone in a hotel room holding his cellphone up to his ear, his long body across the bed.

“How was the case?”

“I’d rather talk about you. How was your day?”

You turn on your side so you can fiddle with the top sheet that was left askew by all of your frantic movements earlier. “Nothing exciting.”

“And how’s your ankle?”

“Perfectly fine. Not even sore.”

“I’ll see about that. Don’t think I won’t take a look at it tomorrow.”

“You’re not a medical doctor, Spencer.” You roll your eyes with a small smile playing on your lips. He laughs lightly.

There is a soft silence between the two of you for a few moments. It isn’t awkward but comforting. Almost as if he’s lying beside you and the two of you are simply resting in the presence of each other. “What were you really doing before I called?” He inquires.

You smile. He’s too smart for his own good. “Exercising,” you quip.

“The kind of exercise that requires your hand between your legs.”

“Spencer!” You gasp.

He laughs again, and you wish he was next to you because you’d kiss the laugh off his lips. “Am I wrong?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m a profiler.”

“No, really tell me,” you demand. Profiling isn’t a magic trick, and Spencer isn’t a psychic.

“I guessed.” You roll your eyes because you can see his face in your mind, the sly almost smug smile and the eyes full of amusement.

“Bullshit.”

“No, truly. I figured you missed me just as much as I missed you.” His voice lowers to almost a whisper, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “That you’ve been thinking about me just as much as I’ve been thinking about you.”

“You’ve been thinking about me?” You murmur.

“I can’t get you out of my head. It’s quite distracting, to be completely honest.”

“Me? Distracting the brilliant Dr. Reid?” You ask innocently.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice has taken on that husky tone that sends wet heat straight to your core.

“Tell me.” You repeat your earlier demand, your hand rubbing mindless patterns across your skin.

“I’m hard just from hearing your voice. It’s taking everything in me to not to unbuckle my pants and fuck into my hand like I’d fuck into you.”

You can’t help but bite your lip at his words because it’s rare for him to curse like that. “Do it.”

“Only if you do it too. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you touch yourself and make yourself come just from my voice.”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, your hand traveling lower.

He hums low and deep in the back of his throat. “You’re already doing it aren’t you, sweetheart? Couldn’t even wait for me to undo my belt. Needed it that bad, didn’t you?”

“I need it.”

You’re about to reach your aching center when he makes a quick tutting sound. “Don’t touch yourself yet.” You instantly pull your hand away. “Go get your earbuds and connect them to your phone. I want to be right in your ear, and I want both of your hands free.”

You comply quickly, putting in your earbuds and then laying back down on your bed. You set your phone beside you. “I’m ready.”

“Are you? What are you ready for?” He teases. He wants you to vocalize exactly what you want even though it makes you blush or maybe because it makes you blush. He wants it despite not being here to see it.

“To touch myself.”

“And?”

“To make myself come from just your voice.”

“Good…” he starts, but you have one more thing to add.

“And I want to hear you come too, baby.”

In the distance, you can hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it and the shuffling of him taking off his pants. “I’ll do anything for you.” You settle into the bed, anticipation buzzing across your skin. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Close your eyes and just focus on my voice and your breathing. Take a deep breath for me. And let it go, just like that. Where do you need me most, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere.” You answer instantly.

“No, baby, I know, but focus for me. Where is that ache? Where do you need me to touch you?”

You take a deep breath. “My breasts.” Your entire body is aching with want, but your breasts are desperate to be touched.

“I want so badly to touch you, I wish I was there. I want to put your breasts in my hands. Do that for me, please.” You do as he asks, kneading your breasts. “Open your mouth, baby, and take one of your fingers and get it wet. Now play with your nipple, tease it, circle it.”

You moan as you tease yourself. “Yes. I want to hear you, tell me how good it feels. Show me how much you miss me.”

“I need you, Spencer.” You groan as you lightly pinch your nipple.

“I know, I know. I need you too.” On the other end of the phone, you can hear the sounds of him touching himself, slowly. He’s teasing himself just as much as he’s teasing you. “When I get home to you, I’m going to show you just how much I need you. I’m going to make you come with my fingers. With my tongue. Over and over again. And then I’ll finally give you my cock, just when you think you’ve had enough. And I’ll make you come one more time on my cock. Is that what you want, baby?”

Your back arches off the bed, still playing with your breasts and nipples. “Yes, oh my god. I want it so bad.”

“How bad, honey? Tell me, is your pussy dripping for me? ‘Cause you need me that bad.”

Your dominant hand moves to your core, and you feel how soaked you are. “Yes. Yes. I need you. I’m so wet.”

“Touch your clit, baby. Slow, do it slow for me at first. You know, just like I would.”

Even though your eyes are already closed, you squeeze them closed tighter when you make contact with your clit. It’s practically throbbing and you exhale a sharp breath. “Oh my god, Spencer. I can’t. I need –”

“Slow, yes you can. Take a deep breath, focus on my voice.”

An uncontrolled moan escapes your throat, but you do as he says. You concentrate on his breaths over the phone, and you match yours to his. Then you match the rhythm of your hand to the sound of his as he ruts into his hand. You listen to his grunts and whimpers, both of you racing toward a needed release.

He lets out a guttural sound. “Do you feel empty? Do you need to be filled?”

“So bad, so bad.”

“I’d fill you so good if I was there.” He groans, and you hear him lose his rhythm for a second as his hips falter. “Slip one of your fingers in. But with your other hand. I need you to keep rubbing that beautiful clit.”

As you slowly push one finger into you, he continues to ramble. “I wish I was there to taste you. You taste so good, baby. I love how gorgeous you look when I’ve got my mouth on you. The way you grind your clit against my tongue because you’re so needy. So desperate to come.”

Your finger pumps faster into you, the need and pleasure climbing higher within you as you buck your hips in time with the movement of your hands. You’re breathless, but you tell Spencer, “I’m so desperate.”

“I know you are.” He groans. “Do you know how bad I need it too? Can you add another finger for me, baby? Fill yourself even more.” You clench against your two fingers. He’s panting into the phone, and you can picture the way his hair would be stuck to his forehead as he pounded into you, completely lost in the feeling of you squeezing him.

“I’m gonna come, baby.” You gasp out. You feel like you have no control over your body as though Spencer was completely in control even though it’s your fingers frantically stroking.

“Are you? Are you going to make yourself come all over your fingers?”

“Yes, I have to. I –”

“Yeah, you do. You’re doing so well. I need to hear you come. I need to hear you be so good for me. Coming all over your fingers, all by yourself. But you’re thinking of me aren’t you?”

“Yes… yes. Always.”

“I can make you come so hard even when I’m not there. And you’re going to make a mess, a beautiful, perfect mess as you finish.” You moan loudly. “That’s it. Just like that.” He’s groaning and muttering, and you know he’s close too. “I wish I was coming in you, feeling you clench around me. And I’d rub that needy clit of yours, your nails would be scratching against my skin because you just can’t help yourself. Please come, baby. I need it.”

You come with his name on your lips, your body clenches and shakes, and you listen closely to his climax. He lets out a shaky breath after a few moments. “I love you.” He says, and you hate that you can’t kiss him.

“I love you too.” Your breathing slowly returns to normal.

“Are you okay?” He checks in with you, and you smile as you roll onto your side and settle deeper into the bed, suddenly very tired.

“I’m great. Are you?” You yawn.

“Yes. Get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“Come home soon.”

“I’m coming home to you as soon as I possibly can. I can’t be apart from you like this.”

“Neither can I. Talk to me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing

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wundergeek · 1 month ago

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Into 5.1 of my Shadowbringers/Endwalker replay

Lyna, the orphan G'raha raised to be his daughter and the head of the Crystarium's guard just pulled me aside to be like 'hey, so every since you came back he's been... Happy? I think? Idk I've never seen him happy before, but... Should I be worried????'

and hhhhhHHHHHHhhhhh

Think about what this means on a world like the First, where people have been living with Despair About Living Through The End Of The World as just. You know. That's just one of The Horrors we deal with every day, you know?

Think about what that does to the suicide rate for a second. Think about how fucking common suicide would have been in that world up to the conclusion of 5.0.

Then think about Lyna worrying about the Exarch after coming back from something he didn't expect to survive, and he's weirdly chill? And happy? Like all of the things that weighed him down her ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE are gone? And her wanting so badly to believe that her adoptive dad is just. Actually. Happy???? But having to make sure that this isn't the false happiness that happens after someone decides to kill himself??????

And the palpable fucking relief when you're like "no he's legit happy it's fine he's fine" and Lyna immediately has to be talked out of staying away from him because "what if she reminds him of sad stuff", like. I know you were raised by G'RAHA, but are you fucking kidding me right now?

Meanwhile, Exarch G'raha, the poor deluded dumbass, has to be slapped into not threatening to kill himself every ten seconds as a means of returning the Scions to the Source. And when Lyna asks to talk privately to the WoL about her concerns, Exarch G'raha literally SAYS 'oh she's just worried because I tried to open a letter with a fish the other day, probably just worried I'm going senile lol'.

Like. Fully not realizing that it would be profoundly affecting for your daughter who clearly loves you very much, who just low key drops shit like "I've never seen my dad happy"... To see him actually be able to conceive of a future that actually contains joy????

And just jump straight to "I promise I'm not senile for mistaking that fish for a letter opener".

I CANNOT BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS MAN

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #g'raha tia #crystal exarch #ffxiv wol

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somerandomdudelmao · 2 years ago

Note

ok wait hold up can we actually just like talk for a second about Donnie's behavior in these last few pages??

Before he found out about the infection, Donnie was still very nonchalant about a lot of situations, but he always had a sense of care and compassion for certain things, like for example, his family and friends. He used a lot of sarcasm and was overall just the snarky autistic tech dude who had more love than he could even imagine giving. He had a relentless grip on his bad-boy image, was stubborn as all hell, but was a well-rounded, lovely guy!

And then the realization hit that he was going to die sooner than expected. Then...

Poof!

Now he's just a shell (Hahaahahahahaha) of who he used to be. Now all he has for himself is a bunch of self-deprecating jokes, responsibilities to pass on to others, and a lack of hope that is just so incredibly unlike him. He still has the sarcasm, sure, but this time it's a lot more dry and emotionless. There's no brevity or lightheartedness to his words anymore, it's all just a monotone mess of half-assed goodbyes and thrown out dreams for the future. Any method of survival has seemingly been lost to time for Donnie, so now he's just kinda... Accepting the fact he's gonna die soon, which only leaves him with his own decaying body and a voice he doesn't even want anymore. And judging by the way he just ignores or shrugs aside everyone's concern, it's all basically just him saying, "Welp, guess I'll die. Here's my shit, no will required."

Also another thing I noticed is that Donnie is basically not allowed to really do anything anymore because he's at risk of dying sooner than he already thinks he will. If he gets more rest and works less, his death come significantly slower.

Meaning he must feel incredibly useless right now.

I think I've also pinpointed the time when this all started happening to Donnie btw. It's a very small moment and I don't have the screenshot on me rn but I think it was in the robo-Raph comic, specifically the moment when Donnie was zooming over to Casey and went "Past" that Kraang alien dude on the way. I imagine he didn't really go past and instead went through, because u know, he's Donatello. If given the chance to commit murder, he will commit, and he very much had the chance right there. I think he went through that Kraang alien, (Very plausible given how fast he was going like jesus- ) got its blood inside a cut or something, and it infected him via his veins or something. Kind of a stretch to assume this since it literally could've been something that took place before the time of this comic series, but this was the earliest instance of foreshadowing/possible infection that I can think of.

I also want to apologize for making all those jokes about like taking you to court and throwing you in jail and stuff because maybe they came off as mean or rude at some points. And for constantly flooding your inbox lol-

Thanks for existing and for making this comic, and congrats on beating the deadline at work! I think you deserve a cookie for that! *Gives a million more cookies* oh yeah and those are for you being you

Oh my fuckiNG GoD...

I don't even know what to say to that

I guess I just want everyone else to be able to read it too because..oh shit...oh wow.

#I'm impressed #like #genuinely #don't worry i like being in jail lmao #so many people already thrown me there #this is my home now

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reallychaoticwoo · 1 month ago

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⛓️ Part 2 to the Hotel Happenings request! You can find part 1 here! As always, i hope you enjoy!⛓️

✨️ Hotel Happenings Part 2 ✨️

❤️Pairing: Ateez x reader

⚠️Warnings: MDNI!! Cussing, smutttt: squirting, fingering, 3sum, dom/sub dynamics, let me know if i missed anything!🖤

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way‼️

🖤Hope you enjoy!🖤

YOU: After the concert you'd made your way to your hotel room. Replaying the events of the night and how good Ateez looked on stage. You laid down in bed imagining all the way those silks from Wake Up could be used, or how good it'd feel to have them shush you like they do the floor. It wasn't very long before your fingers made their way south and brought you closer and closer to your climax.

SAN and Wooyoung: (sorry but also not at all sorry.)

Opening the door to his room for the night San stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw damn near hitting the floor and the door wide open behind him. You quickly pulled the soaked sheets up to hide yourself. Flushed and flustered, you turned you attention to the buff man you were just envisioning. "Uh, not that I mind you in my room, since I've literally been praying for it for years, but uh, could you at least shut the door?" He shook his head, blinking away whatever thoughts had just held him captive, and shut the door behind him. "I'm so sorry about that! I didn't mean to walk In on you uh.. you know. I can go and tell the hotel staff they made a mistake." You giggled at how easily flustered San got at the thought of invading your privacy. "You know.. we're already here. You could just take advantage of having an extremely horny fan in your bed. But that's up to you." You shrugged, the ball in his court now. Just as he opened his mouth, someone knocked at the door. Your eyes widened as San held a finger to his mouth to tell you to stay quiet. "Who is it?" He asked.

"Woo, you gonna let me in or not?" Wooyoung said from behind the door. San looked at you and you again shrugged with a deadly sweet smile. San cracked open the door. "You're not on live are you?" Wooyoung rolled his eyes, pushing his way into the room. "No, and why does it matter we go live together all the ti... OH! Damn San I didn't know you brought somebody back with you!" He gave you a wink and turned back to San. "I didn't bring her back, the hotel fucked up the rooms and gave her mine. I just got here." San looked exasperated. Wooyoung turned to you again, "So you're telling me that big ass wet patch wasn't even due to him?" His smirk was deadly. Your cheeks immediately turned red as you tried to hide the wet patch and then realized you couldn't without them being able to see that there were no panties under your skirt. "I mean.. uhmm.. in a way It was due to both of you.." Wooyoungs smirk grew wider and he cocked his head to the side. "Don't go getting shy now tiny. Obviously you want us bad enough to make quite the mess. Wonder how much of a mess you could make if you actually had us." San was quick to insert himself, "Woo. Careful. Don't make her uncomfortable. Obviously she didn't do this thinking two men she doesn't know were gonna end up trying to fuck her." At those last words your confidence spiked just enough for you to say, "Oh, so you do want to fuck me too San?" Your own smirk appearing. San made a gesture to the tent growing in his pants. "I thought it was pretty obvious, tiny." You hummed in approval. "Please do. Let's see who can make me squirt harder." With that, they were both on you in seconds.

MINGI:

He just wanted to lay down. That's all he wanted to do. That is until he walked in to the most devastatingly mesmerizing scene that was you squirting all over his bed. He shut and locked the door quickly behind him and stared at you trying to restrain himself. You stared back, practically daring him to make a move. He made a quick check of the room. Noting your bbyongMING laying in your luggage bag, the leather panties on the floor with "Fix on" right on the front, and the discarded chaps laying next to the panties. "So, Mr. Fix on, you gonna keep gawking at me, or you gonna do something?" You said tired of waiting for the tower of a man to make a move. "That depends, do you follow orders or give them?" He replied. You rolled your eyes with a smirk before answering. "Considering all it took was your fingers moving on stage to get me to bark, I think I'm pretty good at following orders if enticed well enough." He stalked over to the bed and pushed you back into the mattress roughly. He spread your legs with a wide grin and said as he inserted a long finger into your sopping cunt. "Good, cause when I tell you to, I want to see you squirt again." You clenched around his finger. Your eyes already rolling back as you got out a breathy "Yes sir." He inserted a second finger and flicked his tongue over your clit with a growl. "Such a good girl."

JONGHO:

Ready to sit down, eat some takeout, and watch a good movie, he swung open the door to his hotel room. As the door closed behind him he made his way to the bed, too busy with whatever he was doing on his phone to notice you sitting there. As he was going to sit you jumped forward to stop him. "DONT! It's uhm... it's wet right there.." You said looking anywhere but at him. Slowly recovering from the shock of not noticing a half naked you in his room and piecing together the why there was a wet spot, he quickly stood up. "I'm so sorry I didn't even notice.. I'm usually much more aware of my surroundings." You let out a soft giggle. "I was surprised it took you this long to notice someone in here. You are definitely much more aware when all of you are doing the game shows together." He cocked his head. "You're a fan?" You laughed again, a bit more loud this time, and gestured to the room. "Well Mr. Perceptive, you tell me. There's only a room full of merch." He did a quick scan of the room and face palmed. "Wow. I've really lost my mind today. So this is what you've decided to do after the show? Soak the sheets in.. what even is that?" You lost it, you laughed so hard you snorted. Jongho just stood there looking utterly confused and slightly terrified. You gained enough composer you finally got words out in between giggles "That, you big innocent teddy bear, is what happens after a concert when fans go to their rooms and pleasure themselves." His eyes were almost bulging out of his head. "Oh... OH.. OH. I'm sorry I didn't interrupt anything did i??" You giggled again looking up at him. "Nope I'd actually just finished when you walked in, but if you want to know how it got so messy I'd be more than happy to show you." He gulped, eyes still wide, but nodded his head. "Yes please."

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intrulogical · 11 months ago

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🍊: The Semantics of The Orange Side

Explaining his function, understanding his role in the narrative, and debunking/dissecting common notions about the Orange Side.

To be honest, this essay was inevitable. I've had thoughts about Orange brewing since 2020, but only recently has it developed into something more concrete. For the longest time, most meta surrounding Orange began with theories about his role as a side, then extended towards narrative and side mechanics later on. I, for one, have been a victim of this pattern.

Then, I realized that asking who Orange is is a terrible opener for theories.

There are many important questions glossed over if we start that way. For example, what is Orange's role in the overarching theme of combating black-and-white thinking? What does it mean for Orange to be a side? Who is he in the context of the Dark Sides? There are many crucial things to consider when it comes to predicting who Orange is, and I feel like concrete theories can only be made if we can establish the semantics of how Orange works.

This essay definitely won't be perfect— this is literally my second draft— but I will try my best making it in a way that flows, somehow. Some sections will discuss general ideas I have, some will try to dissec popular preconceived notions to reorient our logic surrounding Orange. As always, I'm open to discussion! My words aren't gospel.

Important notes: All mentions of Thomas refer to him as a character. Moreover, I acknowledge that Remus is a flawed depiction of intrusive thoughts. Technically, he acts more of a mix of intrusive thoughts, forbidden creativity, and impulsive thoughts. Because of this, when I talk about Remus in the context of his role, please be assured that I am talking about all his functions at once, not just intrusive thoughts.

(Full essay under the cut! I worked hard on this, so I'd definitely appreciate the read. <3)

i. Orange as a Dark Side

The ways fans have characterized and defined Orange has always seemed to be rooted in their perception of what being a “Dark” Side is. That is— they are edgy, and somewhat suppressed. They are more “morally questionable” compared to the rest. More fics would even go as far as depicting Orange as morally black, in that he has no role in the narrative other than being a stirring force of conflict; a villain that needs to be defeated.

It is unfortunate to see such a surface level perspective on who the “Dark” Sides are and what they mean as an oppositional force to the “Light” Sides.

My stance on the “Dark” and “Light” sides has always been the same (if you read my past essays, you'll know). Like what Logan said in CLBG, the labels are arbitrary because no side can be argued to be “good” or “bad”. Although, it would be a complete lie for me to say there's no distinction. Rather, Thomas’ black-and-white thinking literally created one. But the distinction does not lie within the sides’ morals, rather it lies in how big their influence is on Thomas. Because the “Light” Sides are welcomed, Thomas will entertain their contributions more than the sides Thomas considers as “bad” or “taboo”.

In my opinion, Orange being morally black makes no sense in a series that is a.) thematically focused on dismantling black-and-white thinking, and b.) a man vs. self conflict. The villain is the problem of Thomas not being able to cope with his mental struggles properly. It would be odd to blame a portion of his brain as the evil of all evils. Although, I'd like to clarify that while Orange most likely wouldn't be morally black, it wouldn't be a surprise to me if he is just as dubious and mischievous as the other “Dark” Sides. After all, if they are the most suppressed sides, they would have to stick to unconventional tactics (aka looking scary) to get Thomas’ attention.

I'll explain more later when I get into what I think Orange actually does as a side. For now, I want to focus on Orange in the context of the “Dark” Sides, because I genuinely think it's an overlooked idea! While nothing is explicitly confirmed, the “Dark” Sides are implied to know something the other characters and we, the audience, don't know about.

Janus and Remus share this sense of meticulousness. They always feel like they're scheming something. Janus, for example, took his time from CLBG to SVS.R to successfully impart to Thomas that acting out of self-interest isn't the worst thing in the world, especially if your mental health is crumbling. Remus is even in on this plan, although his motivations for assisting Janus aren’t actually explicitly expressed yet. Even if Remus wanted to challenge Logan's self-restraint in WTIT to prove how much it was harming Thomas’ long-term mental health, we still don't know if Remus is doing it out of care for Thomas, or just… ‘cus. Either way, it's important to know that whatever Remus is doing seems to point to the same direction Janus is going, which is to break Thomas’ black-and-white thinking.

Assuming Orange is another “Dark” Side, it feels crucial to understand who Orange is in the context of this undisclosed plan. More than anything, because the “Dark” Sides want to be heard, it would make sense if they unionize to achieve that goal together. If they dismantle Thomas’ horrid perception of them, then all three of them would benefit. Thus, it would make no sense for Orange, if he were not morally black, to act solely out of individual interest. Yes, the “Dark” Sides seem to be introducing themselves one by one, but I feel like that's because a.) narratively, it's to pace, b.) it would scare Thomas for three strangers to pop up to him only for them to be shunned as a collective by the “Light” Sides, and c.) Janus and Remus seem to be performing specific roles in this overarching plan, so while they work separately, it's mostly for the same cause.

So, what does that mean, exactly? Like I said, the “Dark” Sides have an overall goal of being heard, strengthening Thomas’ mental wellbeing, and breaking his black-and-white thinking. If my theory is correct in assuming each “Dark” Side has a specific role for this plan, then pinpointing Janus and Remus’ roles may help us factor out Orange's role.

Here's what I deduced: Janus is there as some kind of soft launch, to set the principle. Janus mirrors Patton in that sense, although in the opposite direction. He breaks apart Thomas’ preconceived notions of the world and bandages it with better, more nuanced foundations. On the other hand, Remus somewhat acts like an alarm clock. While not all his contributions are worthwhile, his mere presence is a reminder that something has to be done. In the series, it's to cater to his deteriorating mental health. He checks if the principles Janus provides aren't being followed, and makes a good fucking clamor about it if it doesn't.

Orange, I'd argue, serves as a means for Thomas to externalize these principles. It would make sense that the last thing Thomas would need to do is to put everything into action. Janus points out how one can be disenfranchised, Remus points out when he is being disenfranchised, and Orange ensures Thomas can express his discomfort when he is disenfranchised. Makes sense, right?

Speaking of externalization.

ii. Personal and Narrative Purpose

If you’re a fan that pre-dates the release of WTIT, you're well-acquainted with the idea that Orange represents Rage or Wrath. This theory came about in cahoots with an old notion that each “Dark” Side needs to have a “Light” Side counterpart, especially if you share complementary colors. Thus, many people assumed that Orange is Logan’s foil. Consequently, most interpretations of Orange depict him as emotion-centric, specifically Rage, as that’s what most people assume is an oppositional force against logic. Moreover, because a portion of Logan’s arc revolves around accepting one’s emotions, it would make sense if Orange, as an emotion-centric side, would be part of that. We’ve gotten two hints from the series itself that confirms this: 1.) a fight sequence in SVS.R showing “Blinding Rage” as one of Thomas’ attacking options, and 2.) the infamous orange eyes in WTIT that appeared when both Thomas and Logan felt angry simultaneously.

What’s funny is, if you really think about it, we literally only have two pieces of evidence that point to this widely accepted fan theory. Although, unlike the previous section, I’m more inclined to actually believe these theories because it… does make sense! Especially narrative-wise. At the moment, miscommunication amongst the sides are at an all-time high. This is mostly because each side refuses to express their thoughts, especially since they’re at the midst of a complete paradigm shift in terms of morality and principles. Everything’s just a little too fragile, and it does not help that Thomas’ mental health is also at the brink. After SVS.R, the sides have acknowledged Thomas is on edge, but they’re still doing nothing concrete to actually fix it.

WTIT is my favorite episode of the series because it encapsulates the entire conflict so well. While Logan isn’t perfect, much of the useful suggestions he provided since DWIT never last past the moment he suggested them. Did Thomas ever see a therapist? Not really. Did Thomas find someone to talk about his issues with? Doesn't seem like it. Is Thomas taking his time with his mental health recovery? Nope. More than anything, the “Light” Sides and Thomas are very reactionary towards their problems. It’s even worse when you consider that Thomas is opting to pursue a relationship in the middle of this mess. WTIT showing us Thomas getting irrationally angry at Nico for not replying to his texts is… an interesting Chekhov’s Gun for future episodes, lemme tell you that.

Now, why am I relaying all this? It’s mostly to prove that something, or someone, needs to snap. There are grievances between the sides and Thomas that they are consciously suppressing that need out. Roman, Logan, and Thomas, specifically, need some sort of outlet for their frustrations— a way to justify them, in a sense. Logan’s eyes glowing orange while he snapped at Remus speaks so loudly of what Orange may offer. Externalization, justice, “cathartic release,” as my friend Orb (@orbmanson7) put it. Presently, Orange as an externalizing force is needed so they can actually do something about this damn issue!

And if not, I also see Orange’s role similarly to Remus’. As I’ve explained earlier, Remus’ presence acts as an alarm clock for Thomas to be aware of his deteriorating mental health. If Orange isn’t there to assist in an all-encompassing externalization of a side or Thomas’ deepest grievances, the mere presence of Orange as an emotional force can act as another kind of alarm clock. What I mean is, if we’re feeling mentally low, for example, we don’t need to express our grievances in the most eloquent way possible. Sometimes we just need to get angry. To cry, to shout nonsense. And that alone would be enough to prove that we need help. We need to do something about this.

To summarize, I think most depictions connecting Orange to emotional externalization are not off. There’s a lot of objectivity surrounding it, both when it comes to the narrative and his semantics as a side. We need a driving force that can topple the sides and Thomas over the edge to fully process the depth of Thomas’ mental health issues.

But, how does he, a supposedly, emotion-centric side, differ from Patton?

iii. Orange’s True Identity

Now that we laid our foundations, I think it would be a good time to entertain the question of: well, who is Orange?

Truth is, I have my own guess on what I believe Orange to be, but I cannot say my opinion is conclusive. My theories on Orange literally change every two months. So what I'll do, I suppose, is first, explain what makes a side a side. Then, I'll explain my own current predictions about Orange. Lastly, I'll list some popular fan theories I've heard about Orange and give you my thoughts.

a. What is a Side?

First— what constitutes a side? To me, there is no real basis in the conception of a side. Like what my friend Orb once explained to me, the interactions between sides are mental processes personified. This doesn't mean we should simply view the sides as metaphors, by the way. They're a hundred percent characters in their own right. But what I mean by “process personified” is that if we view one of Thomas' conflicts on its own— as in, without the sides— can we imagine the mental processes he's undergoing? To make it clearer, let's use an example. In WTIT, we see Remus and Logan battle out on who gets to influence Thomas more. If we saw this without the sides, we can think of it like— imagine you're having a bad mental health day. You wanted to do a list of chores but your mind is in the gutters right now. You feel guilty because of your demotivation. You try doing what you planned, but you still suck at it, and now you're spiraling, thinking about every insecurity you have, but you're also trying to combat that by rationalizing it.

I'm not gonna say that this definition solves who Orange truly is, but it does help when it comes to understanding how the sides work. Another characteristic of a side would be their multifacetedness. No side embodies one thing alone. They can have roles that are adjacent to each other, but not the same thing. For example, Roman embodies both the ego and creativity. Not the same thing, but it works in tandem in Thomas’ context. Same goes for Remus with intrusive thoughts and dark creativity. It is important to entertain the idea that Orange can encompass more than one role.

The last thing to consider would be the technical difference between a “Light” Side and a “Dark” Side. The division was created for Thomas to compartmentalize and suppress sides of himself that his Catholic upbringing taught him to believe is bad. If we assume Orange is a “Dark” Side, he must be embodying something typically thought of as taboo.

b. Who is Orange?

This brings us to our earlier question of, how does Patton differ from Orange if they both embody emotions? In DWIT, Logan confirms Remus was born from the categorization of certain thoughts as good or bad. I think it wouldn't be farfetched to suggest the same happened to Orange if he did embody emotions at a certain capacity. One of the biggest arguments I hear against this suggestion would be, if Patton already represents Thomas’ emotions, why do we need another side who does? The answer, again, lies in the themes of black-and-white thinking and compartmentalization. If Remus embodies the thought of committing a “sin”, Orange could possibly embody the actual emotions of wanting to do so. Anger is merely one possibility in Orange's roster of emotions. There are other emotions as well deemed “sinful” by Catholicism— pride, jealousy, hatred, greed, grief, etc. It would make sense that Patton would try omitting these out of himself when he was younger because he viewed them lowly.

So, what is my actual guess on who Orange is meant to embody? Well, I mean, I think my stance is pretty clear from the past 2500 words written literally before this. Simply put, if Remus is meant to embody forbidden thoughts, then Orange embodies forbidden emotions. Anger is merely one of many. He aids both Thomas and the other sides in externalizing strong emotions that seep past their efforts of suppression.

This is, of course, under the assumption that Orange is his own separate entity. I'm more inclined to believe this because Virgil confirms in CLBG that Janus has “Dark” Side friends (as in, plural). It also just feels more balanced this way if we consider the forbidden thoughts vis-a-vis forbidden emotions parallel to be true.

c. How could Logan be Orange?

But, of course, I've also considered the possibility of Logan being Orange. It's not my theory of choice but as someone who was balls deep in this theory a few months ago, there's definitely some merit to it. Here's the link to the post if you want to read my theory in full. It's pretty lengthy, but to summarize: This theory operates under the assumption that Thomas’ suppression of certain sides (ie. making them a “Dark” Side) makes them develop an additional role— the role Thomas perceives them as.

To explain better, let's use Remus as an example. Logan explained that, originally, Remus separated from Roman as Dark Creativity. Because Thomas refuses to entertain any creative thought he deemed bad, any suggestion provided by Remus was immediately labeled as intrusive. Thus, he became intrusive thoughts via Thomas’ low perception of him. Same goes for Janus, but to a lesser degree. As a side, he mostly acts out of the interest of Thomas, somewhat like self-preservation. But, because Catholic upbringing teaches that selfishness equates to evil, Thomas perceives Janus’ role of keeping things hidden as deceitful.

Thus, if Logan is Orange, then that means Logan’s role as logic is warping due to Thomas’ low perception of him. It’s no secret that Thomas views Logan as a “strict” side. In this scenario, I wouldn’t exactly say his additional role has something to do with externalization. Moreso, it has to do something with assertion or strict discipline. Think of an authoritative figure, like a teacher. Usually, when an authoritative teacher isn’t being respected in a class, they resort to meaner tactics like passive aggression, manipulation, etc. to impose their power. Logan doesn’t really transform into anything opposite to who he is as Logic. Rather, he has an additional role that coincides with Thomas’ perverted perception of logic. I’m not actually sure what this role is, but if I were to guess, it has something to do with restriction, discipline, or conformity.

Narratively, Logan becoming a “Dark” Side makes sense when you realize that his entire character arc is about him losing his sense of self-assertion. I made an essay last year that explores this if you want something to read later. To explain, WDWGOOBITM establishes how it’s important for Thomas to balance his practicality (needs) and aspirational desires (wants) for him to function as a human being. At the same time, we get LNTAO where Logan realizes that he failed to contribute to the discussion as usefully as the other sides. This creates a scenario where Logan concedes a lot of the decision-making to Patton and Roman’s hands. The result: Logan’s presence is minimized. Even in the episodes where he “saves the day” (DWIT and the Frozen episode), Thomas refused to consider his suggestions until the latter halves of the episodes. WTIT emphasizes this even more when we see Thomas prioritize his date with Nico to keep himself happy instead of focusing on the chores he promised to do. Even if we don’t know if Roman had anything to do with this, it’s obvious Thomas is naturally more inclined to do things Patton and Roman would prefer than something Logan does.

Thus, it makes sense that Logan becomes a “Dark” Side. But, and this is an important but, I don’t really agree with depictions of Logan suspending his role as logic to become a “Dark” Side. Logic is such an integral part of who we are as people, that even if you’re an intuition-focused person, you’d still have logical facilities in your head that connect one thing to another. Basic knowledge and all that. I can only see Logan be a completely new role if someone takes his place as Logic. Personally, I don’t like that idea, but you can make your own takeaways on this.

How “Dark” Sides are conceived would still be a mystery. The closest we’ve gotten to an explanation is Remus’ origin story, where he and Roman originally started as one creativity until they separated. In this sense, becoming a “Dark” Side didn’t really uproot Remus’ original role. He just changed a little. I’d like to assume the same for Logan, because if he is literally born as Thomas’ Logic, then he as a “Dark” Side would still have similar roles, just with minor changes.

d. Other Theories

Now with the main theories out of the way, let me speedrun through other theories I’ve heard and give my thoughts on it:

Procrastination: I feel like this is too surface-level for a side. As in, hHow would Procrastination justify itself to Thomas as a side that wants to help? Yes, Procrastination would be a good foil to Thomas, but Thomas’ inability to work doesn’t stem from Procrastination. It stems from bad solutions to his mental health crisis. Anyway, too cheap.

ADHD: This feels like… it’s prone to problematic territory. For real, ADHD is so multifaceted in itself, and is literally a disability? I think it makes more sense to have ADHD traits sprinkled amongst the sides rather than one character representing it as a whole. To make it its own guy is like suggesting the other six sides are divorced from Thomas’ ADHD characteristics, which feels wrong to me.

Hatred and any other suggestion that relates to “taboo” emotions: See my argument on Orange encapsulating forbidden emotions as a whole instead of Rage/Wrath on its own.

Justice: I actually liked this idea and sort of incorporated it with my idea of Orange as a means of externalization! To enact justice means to externalize your deepest desires— cathartic release.

Regret: See: the last two points, since it’s very similar.

Repression: Your heart’s in the right place, but most theories that subscribe to this literally just describe Janus. Keeping things secret because you think it’s unbeneficial? That’s one of Janus’ roles.

Insecurity: That is literally Remus’ role. While intrusive thoughts shouldn’t be viewed as meritable, intrusive thoughts base itself on a person’s sensitivities and insecurities. I also have an essay detailing how Remus is incredibly perceptive about everyone’s insecurities here.

That's about all the other theories I can recall, but if anyone else has other suggestions, send it to my inbox and I'll give you my thoughts.

Now that we understand Orange's fundamentals and who he is as a side, the question to ask next is what is he capable of as a side?

iv. Powers and Influences

Now we get to the part where I am! The most unsure about! As of the time I'm writing this, I literally just had a conversation with Orb trying to understand how Orange “possesses” Thomas and the sides, and nothing conclusive came out of it. Even if we are shown one instance of how Orange influences the others (ie. Logan's orange eyes), we actually do not know how that works at all.

I suppose we can start by asking ourselves how Orange embodies forbidden emotions. I see his insistence for Thomas to perform a certain emotion similar to how Patton would do it. It's impulsive, reactionary. They undergo a situation, then they make Thomas feel an emotion they deem apt for that situation. The only reason Orange isn't utilized as much as Patton is because, of course, Patton is who Thomas is more familiar with. I'd also like to argue that the emotions Orange would possibly encapsulate aren't ones that are constantly expressed. Most of the time, we are in a state of happiness or contentment, emotions covered by Patton. If not, we experience sadness, another common emotion covered by Patton. I would imagine Orange's roster of emotions are only experienced rarely, or if put in a continuous dire situation. Immense anger, for example, would pop up if you feel continuously disenfranchised by something. See: Thomas’ mental health crisis.

Ergo, Orange allows Thomas to feel “taboo” emotions when the situation calls for it. Pretty straightforward. But we're not done yet, because we have to consider what it means that Orange also assists other sides in externalizing their own emotions. We can't use the same argument we gave to Thomas because the sides… aren't each others’ sides. They're Thomas’. If Orange assists in the externalization of the other sides’ repressed emotions, then it has to work differently.

A widely accepted theory or headcanon I see in the fandom is that Orange “possessed” Logan to make him get angry. Or, Logan made a deal with Orange, and now he has angry spurts he doesn't understand. While I appreciate the efforts to make juicy angst, I'm not fond of the idea that these theories basically imply that Logan's anger in WTIT was not his own. In reality, it was. Logan suppressed his frustrations about everyone ignoring his suggestions, and now he snaps. Making it seem like he can't achieve these emotions on his own volition implies he has no frustrations about his predicament to begin with.

The real question is, then, why did Logan's eyes glow orange if his emotions at that moment were genuine? Well, like other segments of this essay, it's hard for me to say something conclusively. We literally have nothing else to work on, guys, pardon me if I can't be a hundred percent certain on my assertions. But if I were to guess, I'm inclined to believe that Orange cannot make the sides feel emotions that they don't already have. Rather, he's responsible for enhancing it. In Logan's situation, for example, his frustration is completely his own. But when you submit to something like, let's say, blinding rage, sometimes you lose your sense of control and simply act. In this case, Orange possibly assists the flow of emotions the side in question would be experiencing.

I'll admit though, I literally have no clue how Orange does that, how he assists the other sides to feel their repressed emotions better. Again, we are working with practically nothing here. Although, one thing we can entertain is the idea that Orange has something to do with a side's state of being. Just like how Janus causes the sides to cover their mouths when expressing a lie, the sides’ eyes could possibly glow orange just because they're feeling an intense, “taboo” emotion. If you don't want to imagine Orange as its own side, you can also factor in the popular fan theory that Orange is simply a state of being the sides experience, no additional side required. Either way, while we cannot dive deep on the semantics of the glowy eyes thing, we can at least confirm there is a link between a side externalizing repressed or “taboo” emotions and Orange himself.

v. Relationships With The Sides (Especially Logan)

Another thing I wanted to discuss is the relationships Orange shares with the other sides. The most accepted depiction of Orange shows him distanced from the “Dark” Sides, while also having a crude fascination with Logan. We've discussed enough of how I view Orange in the context of the “Dark” Sides, so I'd like to focus more on what it means for Orange to assimilate with the “Light” Sides, especially Logan.

Because Logan's first to be seen with these orange eyes, many are quick to assume this is an isolated case. Fair enough— we don't have other examples to compare this with. At the same time, I think a lot of people aren't considering the idea that, if we go by the assumption that Orange is connected to states of being, then any other side can also experience the orange eyes. I won't even be surprised if it happens to Roman in this coming season finale.

But is the much entertained idea of Logan being specifically targeted by Orange unfounded? I would say no, not necessarily. The “Dark” Sides and Logan have always had an interesting relationship. Logan in particular is shown to be the side most unbothered their presence. Again, he's the side who argued that no side can actually be categorized as “good” or “bad”. He's the most sympathetic to the “Dark” Sides, but also… isn’t.

There's an explainable contradiction here. Even if Logan is nicer to the “Dark” Sides compared to the others, he also has the reputation of being able to easily and successfully shut down their suggestions. He completely opposed Janus’ side in SVS out of Thomas’ interest. He shut down Remus not once, but twice, to protect Thomas. But that's the thing— he does not shut down the “Dark” Sides’ contributions because he disagrees with them. Moreso, he does it because he thinks that's what Thomas’ wants. For example, he admitted in SVS that even if he wanted Thomas to attend the callback, he still preferred if Thomas attended the wedding instead because he thought that was what Thomas would have wanted.

And, well, we saw how Janus responded to Logan's decision— he was confused. It's like he had trust Logan would vouch for his side. Let's remember the main goal of the “Dark” Sides: to be respected, to break Thomas’ black-and-white thinking, and to get him out of his mental slump. This goal can only be achieved if they restore the balance of want and need lost partially due to Logan's diminishing self-assertion. They know Logan can do something if he lets himself loose. That's why Remus and Janus teased him in the Secret Santa gift exchange about wanting to express his frustrations. That's why, after Logan's outburst in WTIT, Remus says, “Gee, Logan, now you're speaking my language.”

They want Logan in on their plan. For that to begin, they need to make Logan in tune with his own emotional wants and needs, to make him more assertive. Thus, Orange would have to step in. There is merit when fans joke about the “Dark” Sides wanting Logan to go apeshit— it's because it's true. It's because it benefits them.

I can only provide things to consider when it comes to the other sides:

With Patton, think of the point I made earlier about Orange being “bad” emotions divorced from Patton, in a similar way Remus and Roman were created. The main difference between them would be that Patton has more faculty over principles, since Janus has that covered for the “Dark” Sides. While Patton, influenced by Catholic morality, thinks emotions and morals are intertwined, it would make sense for the more cynical sides to view them as separate.

Roman, as aforementioned, may also be susceptible to Orange's influence as the other side tends to hide his emotions from the others. With how the narrative is building up, I won't be surprised if Roman's frustrations with the whole debacle about morals heightens in the finale, especially if something Interesting happens between Thomas and Nico. You can't use Nico as a distraction forever, Thomas. Remember Thomas’ anger at Nico not responding to his messages, remember Chekhov's Gun.

Virgil is an interesting case because he would be more familiar with Orange compared to the others. That begs the question of, is he aware of the “Dark” Sides current goals and plans? My idea is, yes, but only to a certain extent. This can go down many paths. There's the possibility that Virgil was the first part of the plan, but accidentally grew closer with the “Light” Sides before he fully completed it. This explains why he hasn't disclosed the plans to the others, especially since it may incriminate him as someone who was part of that plan. There's the possibility that he knows nothing of the plan, but is familiar with the “Dark” Sides’ antics. Thus, he can't do much but stay suspicious of the sides. Either way, we still don't know enough to conclude how much Virgil knows, but I doubt he would get along with Orange.

I pondered about Janus a little because, if Orange is meant to embody externalization in some form, what does that mean for him, the embodiment of self-preservation and secrecy? I don't have the answer, but while we know the “Dark” Sides have to work with each other, we don't actually know how close Janus and Remus genuinely are with Orange. To be fair, Janus and Remus are complete opposites and they get along fine. I'd definitely prefer it if all of the “Dark” Sides were actually close because it creates such a perfect juxtaposition to the “Light” Sides’ crumbling family.

I also thought Orange and Remus would make interesting parallels as two forbidden versions of feeling and thinking respectfully. Like I said earlier, Remus can only suggest, but he never actually embodies the emotions of wanting to do taboo things. Orange, however, could. No other points except for the ones I mentioned about the “Dark” Sides in the previous bullet.

vi. Long-Term Presence

Originally, this essay would end here and already be posted. I even went through at least half of it for beta reading. Then, Orb started a discussion where they asked what I thought Orange's purpose was, especially since most theories (even the one you're reading right now) are more centered on Orange in the context of the current conflict. There was actually a part I wanted to write during the second segment where I disclosed what I thought Orange would contribute in the grander scheme of things, but I omitted it because it felt too out of place.

I replied to Orb what I was going to write; I thought that Orange was going to be the final push for Thomas to go to therapy, and make Thomas stand his ground more instead of asking the sides for advice every time he has an issue. I've always thought this, especially therapy, was one of the ways the series would end as a whole, because it means Thomas would stop talking to his sides. Or at least, in the way we see him do it in the show. That sounds a bit cynical, I know. Why would I suggest that Sanders Sides end by Thomas cutting ties with the sides?

Well, I'm not. Not entirely. I'm not advocating Thomas does. What I mean is, an underlying conflict to the current conflicts we have now is how Thomas internalizes his problems. This is literally how the series functions. Thomas has a problem, then consults himself about it via the sides. Even c!Joan mentions it in CLBG. This issue of the problem aversion Thomas has would be fine in the former parts of the series, as the things he consulted the sides about were small. But as the series progresses, we're facing issues that call for an entire paradigm shift in morality. Of Thomas putting himself and his friends in the infamous Trolley Problem. Of Thomas facing horrible intrusive thoughts he opts to combat alone.

I once called Sanders Sides a psychological horror because we see how a normal dude's mental health crumbles as he deals with life-changing situations alone. To find a solution for this main, underlying conflict means the show has to end— internalization IS the series’ foundation!

And so Orb suggested the most batshit idea— what if Orange was Thomas’ foil? Not in a sense that confirms the Opposite Sides theory. Rather, Orange, if his role is externalization, is literally the antithesis of how the sides work. As Orb put it, Orange is there to “completely wreck the format”, making Thomas realize that consulting the sides for help has its limits. He has to literally go out and touch grass, talk to his friends about his moral dilemmas, consult a damn therapist. That is what I think Orange's true purpose as a side is.

vii. Closing Statements

In the end, I can't say that everything I've stated in this essay is pure fact, but this is the most educated guess I can give considering what we're given and what we can expect to happen in canon. While most theories I've seen easily pinpoint different issues the sides and Thomas are facing in the series, these theories would then guess that Orange would be the cause of these issues. That's where theories like Procrastination, Repression, Regret, etc. come from. More than anything, I want you to see that Orange acts in response to these issues rather than in tandem with it.

The best advice I can give you when theorizing about Orange is: ask yourself what needs to be seen in the series. Remember, Sanders Sides is a narrative. Episodes will continue to happen past Orange's inevitable reveal. Think of Orange in this context, as his own character with motivations and wants for Thomas. Only then you can make educated guesses about him.

Anyway, thank you for reading my incredibly extensive essay on Orange! Again, my words are not gospel, so if you want to discuss anything further, add onto this post or send me an ask! Please read this post though before you send me anything. And If you enjoyed this, PLEASE reblog, I'd definitely appreciate it! If you want to read more stuff from me, here's a carrd masterlist of Sanders Sides meta I've done. Happy reading!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #orange sanders #orange side #sanders sides meta #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders

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fixing-bad-posts · 9 months ago

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Heya, I really really hope this doesn't come off as particularly rude, but I was wondering, why would bisexual women be considered lesbians sometimes and I think you also brought up transgender men and genderqueer ppl? For bisexual women, I just am kinda confused, they can be in lesbian relationships and lesbian spaces, but just describing them as lesbians seems kinda confusing because lesbian denotes specifically sapphic attraction at least from where I've always heard it, so wouldn't it be kinda confusing. And for the genderqueer folks or trans folks, wouldn't that just bring their genders closer to feminine and at least from what I've heard from some pple I know, they don't like non binary being seen as more womanly (I've heard it being described as woman-lite before annoying) and instead seen as a more inbetween which it sometimes isn't, because of bigotry and other things since nbs can be both fem or masc or androgynous, but wouldn't non woman lesbians kinda push it to be seen as kinda more fem or that person as more fem? I don't know and frankly I'm just kinda confused. I'm really really sorry that this probably comes off as super rude and I hope you forgive me. I frankly just want to learn a little more and have been reading up but wanted to know what you thought. And I just realized how long this was, so so sorry

hello anon! these days, i usually don’t answer asks like these because i’ve already done so several times, but you seem very well-meaning and confused, so i’ll do my best to help. first of all, please check my faq for resources and links about mspec labels and bi lesbians.

second of all—generally—here is my advice for when you encounter a queer label that confuses you:

1) literally just ignore it until you...

2) meet someone in your life who uses that label, at which point you might (respectfully) ask them what using that label means to them specifically, and why it’s important. i’ve done this in real life. the script is something like,

“it’s really cool to get to talk to someone in real life about this stuff—if i may ask, what does identifying as [insert label] mean to you, personally?”

you might also say,

“i’ve never met someone who identifies with [their label] before. would you mind giving me some pointers on the important things to keep in mind in order to respect your identity/make sure you feel respected by me?”

i’ve also never asked anyone to correct me if i mess up and say something rude, but i’m working on the confidence and charisma to be able to say that, because i owe that to others.

all of that said, i wanted to respond to some of your specific questions, and clarify a couple of things below the cut. to clarify:

1. “describing [bisexual women] as lesbians seems kinda confusing because lesbian denotes specifically sapphic attraction”. to be clear i am not the one describing bisexual women as lesbians, in this hypothetical situation. when i post about bi-lesbians, i am posting in support of people who—for whatever reason—chose that label for themselves. what i am not doing: advocating to redefine the classically understood definition of lesbian for the entire populous.

2. “wouldn’t it be kinda confusing”? yes! i understand it can be confusing, and i commend you for expressing your confusion instead of reacting in disgust or anger. there are so many things in the queer community that are confusing, even to me, and you don’t need to feel guilty for asking questions as long as you come from a place of genuine curiosity. being confused isn’t bad, and defining yourself in a way that confuses others is, likewise, no transgression.

3. “for the genderqueer folks or trans folks, wouldn’t [identifying as a lesbian] just bring their genders closer to feminine […] wouldn’t non woman lesbians […] be seen as kinda more fem”? the answer is: sort of. it depends entirely on how and why the person using this label came to these words. you wrote, “i’ve heard from some pple i know, they don’t like non binary being seen as more womanly”, and i have definitely also heard that! so, for people who feel that way, they probably wouldn’t want a label that evokes womanhood and/or aligns them with femininity assigned to them. but every person is different—so for some nonbinary people, they absolutely do not want to be seen as “woman-lite”, whereas for other nonbinary people, they might want to be seen closer to femme than masc, while still nonbinary. this goes back to what i said at the beginning: best practice is to ask the people in your life how they want you to respect them.

closing thoughts: i hope this clarified some things, but i understand that the topic may still be confusing—feel free to message me if you want a non-judgmental queer to talk things through with. i promise i’ll take you in good faith <3

#ask fbp #anon ask

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smolcinnamonchipmunk · 5 months ago

Text

Mid-Fight Snack

(Elloooo. Been another while since I've been able to get around to posting actual stuff. I'd love to post or make more, but I have two animations I'm trying to work on and an entire cosplay that's taken up all my freebie because I don't know anything about sewing, lol. Obviously hasn't stopped me from thinking about Honkai a lot. Anyways, here's the Boothill vore writing finally! Hope it's not too bad, I'm a bit sleep deprived.)

Word count: 6233

TW/CW: Soft, safe m/nb G/t vore aaaaaand, I think that's literally it.

____________________________

“Behind ya, small-fry!” was about the only warning I had before being shouldered aside by a wall of metal, blinking in surprise as I spun around to see who just ran past me. I saw the retreating form of a very gray-toned humanoid with a red sash over their shoulder and white and black hair flaring out behind them as they ran, looking vaguely familiar. I squinted when I noticed the hat on their head. Was that the cowboy Dan Heng told us about that we met briefly in the Dreamscape?

I’d feel bad for not remembering his name if we hadn’t just barely met.

“Get back here!” was the only warning I had as I looked back at where the cowboy came from and saw a bunch of IPC personnel and robots charge around the corner towards him. And, in turn, me.

Having spent more time on the run than not in my time after joining the Express I ended up yelping and bolting down the hall after the cowboy. My footsteps were drowned out by the stampede of footsteps behind me and the sound of crashing and screaming ahead as the cowboy flung a few tables behind him as he passed, disturbing several guests and staff as he rushed past.

It wasn't until I rounded the corner after he turned down a hall that I realized that I probably should have just jumped out of the way because me running after the cowboy away from the IPC definitely made me look like an accomplice.

“Fucking damn it,” I hissed under my breath at the thought, jumping over the legs of another knocked over table. I realized too late that there was a couple still standing way too close on the other side but managed to avoid slamming into them. My shoe landed on a grape strewn on the carpet and I yelped as I almost slipped.

Narrowly avoiding faceplanting on the ground, I ended up straightening and locking eyes with the cowboy as he turned to look over his shoulder, seeing it widen slightly at seeing me. To be fair, I was only maybe twenty feet behind him compared to the IPC crowd that were chasing behind me still struggling with strewn furniture and passerbys.

My eyes widened as I saw something glint other than his exterior in his right hand, holding my hands slightly in front of me in a mock surrender to show that I was unarmed, quickly shouting, “I'm not IPC!”

“What the fudge are ya doing tailin’ me then?” the cowboy barked back at me, finger looking a bit too close to the trigger for my liking.

“I panicked when I saw the IPC guys running around the corner and it wasn't until I already started following that I realized I probably looked like-.”

“Criminal and accomplice west-bound towards main lobby elevators!” a robotic voice shouted behind us, one of the large, round robots that was way too quick for its size.

“Yeah, that,” I sighed, rolling my eyes and lowering my arms. It was weird holding my arms still while running.

All of IPC in the hotel probably knew about this chase. I only hoped that the Aventurine guy that almost cornered me in my room wouldn't show up. If fighting him in the dreamscape reflected anything about reality, I didn't want to be part of accidentally tearing the hotel apart fighting him to get away.

The cowboy stared intently at me for a second before growling low in his throat and holstering his gun with a flourishing twirl of his hand. I fully expected him to turn back forward and ignore me now that he determined I wasn't a threat, but instead he suddenly dropped pace to match me. He definitely was faster than me normally, but he’d been throwing so much stuff behind him and swerving through people that it slowed him a little whereas I was given almost clear passage in his wake.

“If you ain't IPC, why the fudge was your first thought at seeing these muddle-fudgers chasin’ after me to tag along,” he asked, voice sounding like he didn't fully believe I wasn't IPC.

“Well,” I replied, very glad that I had enough stamina to run and answer at the same time. I yelped when the cowboy suddenly twisted beside me, throwing down a tall potted plant as we ran around another corner, narrowly missing crashing into an elderly lady. “I haven't been around much, but everytime the Express has stopped somewhere there's been at least a couple times where we end up running from someone or something.

“Usually I'm with a group, so when you started running, my instinct was to follow like with them,” I finished sheepishly, looking to the side at him and almost startling. I'd been too focused on running to realize how fucking tall he was, needing to crane my neck a bit to look up at him.

“Well, fork me sideways and call me a son of a nice lady!” The cowboy exclaimed and laughed, showing off shark-like teeth. The eye not obscured by his hair glanced down and met my gaze for a moment, giving me a solid glimpse of dark gray iris with a red pupil and… was that a white crosshair in his eye? “You're one of them Astral folks with the Xianzhou fella!”

“And you must be the cowboy guy that broke onto the Express that Dan Heng told us about,” I blinked a bit at the realization, and a little at his odd speech patterns. One of the first things after waking up from the dreamscape being a check in with the other Astral Express crew with one of the weirdest things being Dan Heng messaging about how a cowboy got onto the Express. He had glossed over the fact that said cowboy showed up armed, but Pom Pom had been more than willing to share that fact in the chat. Looking back at the herd of IPC behind us, I asked, “Did you greet people at gunpoint again?”

“Where I come from, that’s just one of the many ways to say hello,” he chuckled. His face fell with mine as more IPC turned the corner at the end of the hall ahead while shouting, his expression turning into a scowl. Guests and staff alike glanced between the two walls of IPC personnel converging with us in the middle, most wisely making the decision to try and press against the walls or retreat back into their rooms to stay out of the way.

“Shit,” I started looking for other ways to turn, suddenly very much disliking the lengthy straight hallways. My eyes noticed a set of double doors to the right just as the cowboy shouted, “On the right!”.

I prepped myself to manifest my baseball bat to slam through the doors but the cowboy reached them first, sprinting ahead and spinning around to slam the back of his boot spur-first against the weak point of the handle. I’m not even sure if the doors had been locked, but I was glad we were both on the same page of better safe than sorry.

“After you, darlin’,” the cowboy paused just long enough to let me through first and I heard the rattling click of loading ammo as I passed, presumably taking out his gun again, the sound of his heels trailing behind on the carpet behind me.

“’Ppreciated, cowboy!”

I slowed slightly as the hallway ended up being incredibly short, leading to an expansive open area with tiled floor that we definitely only had a few seconds to take stock of before the IPC after us would start trickling in. Several types of gambling tables and a bar were in here, with a few scattered sitting areas with tables and luxurious plush chairs, and at least one pool table with the only thing breaking up the entire space being supporting pillars and various lamps or potted plants decorating the place.

At least a dozen eyes looked towards us as we ran in and I booked it towards what looked like the clearest path through the lounge, shouting, “Don’t mind us, just passing through!”

A crash behind me made me jolt and look behind myself, seeing the cowboy flip over a table as we ran by, scattering gambling chips, cards, and glasses of alcohol all over the ground as the people around the table scattered. Patrons started getting up and moving as far from us as possible, some making their way to the exits. Which, from the other sounds behind us, the exit where we came in was starting to be blocked by incoming IPC.

“Do you have to keep knocking shit over,” I asked, trying to temper some giddiness as I glanced back, the cowboy looking behind him with a smirk towards the exit. I saw a few of the smaller IPC run in from the short hall. “I like destruction too, but that wasn’t even in the way.”

The cowboy looked undeterred by my comment, seeming to be having fun with this chase. “Helps slow ‘em down.”

I scoffed in amusement as I turned my attention back forward, eyes widening at the sight of more IPC starting to pour in at the other end of the lounge. Glancing around for another exit that the two obvious ones I commented, “I don’t think slowing them down’ll help any when we’re blocked in!”

My shoes slid on the tile beneath me as I skid to a halt, the cowboy stopping only a second after me and overshooting me by a couple feet. His gun was already in hand, head turning as he also seemed to take stock of the room to see if there was a way to wriggle out of the situation. Unfortunately, it looked like the two exits the IPC came in from were the only ones to the lounge, leaving us cornered as the space filled with IPC personnel and robots.

“Hands in the air,” one of the larger bots demanded, probably carrying a high rank among the group. A bunch of them lifted rifles and guns to aim at us, the rest held large staffs with a glowing orange end for electrocuting. The other larger bots in the group lifted the yellow shields they had on their left arms while the one that spoke to us added, “And drop your weapons! You’re both going into IPC custody.

“You.” - the robot pointed to the cowboy, who raised his hands up without dropping his gun - “For a list of crimes that would have us here all day if I listed them all. And you-.”

I raised my arms slowly with the cowboy and narrowed my eyes at the robot as it gestured to me. I felt tense, internally coiled up like a snake ready to strike. I had a feeling that Criminal Cowboy wouldn’t be going without a fight, and neither was I. Question was just when to start and he seemed experienced enough with this that I was going to let him make the first move to avoid fucking it up for him.

“-for aiding and abetting a wanted criminal,” the robot concluded. Lowering its arm from pointing at us it gestured to one of the grunts, who produced a pair of glowing handcuffs and presumably had more. “Now, drop your weapon! I won’t be asking nicely a third time.”

“Heh,” the cowboy let out an amused exhale. “This ain’t my first showdown. But I’ll play your little game.”

I watched the cowboy intently as he loosened the grip on his gun until it started sliding out of his grip, dropping towards the tiled ground. My breath hitched in my throat in anticipation, seeing a few of the IPC around us relax slightly.

With a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it fluidity, the cowboy raised his left hand as his fingers contorted, shooting at the chest of the leader bot and striking true through its carapace. In almost the same moment his right leg shifted, the toe of his boot catching the dropped pistol and flicking his ankle up to throw it back into the air where he caught it in a twirl with his right hand.

“Get somewhere safe,” the cowboy said as the leader bot sparked and began to fall. He fired off another shot before the first even hit the ground, taking out two grunts that had been standing in an unfortunate overlap. Looking down at me, he had a wild grin on his face while the red in his eyes glowed. “I’ll handle these muddle-fudgers and find ya when the dust settles. Now, bring it on, baby!”

Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and popped off a couple more shots as the crowd of IPC jostled out of their shock. A couple peeled off and retreated from the room in a flight response but most immediately trained their attention on the cowboy as he charged towards the nearest cluster, giving another grunt an introduction to the back of his heel with a spur to the face.

“Oh, hell no,” I said to myself, focusing on the energy inside myself and felt my hands tingle as a black baseball bat manifested within my grasp, arcs of energy crackling off of it and my hands before dissipating. With almost everyone focusing on the cowboy bobbing around and firing shots, it was almost too easy for me to rush up behind about four people and wack them over the head before I also started getting some attention from the closest IPC personnel.

I had to roll out of the way of a grunt swinging a staff at my face, twisting to the side and tumbling before popping back up to my feet, darting around a pillar to hit someone else while shouting, “Staffs are a bit better when you’re not THAT close!”

With a bunch of IPC also now firing their guns, I didn’t notice the pause in the particular metal twangs from the cowboy’s pistol until I heard, “Son of a-, I told you to get somewhere safe!”

Looking over to where he dodged a few IPC bullets I saw him quick reload while glancing me up and down like he was reassessing me. I felt a surge of satisfaction and spite, running towards a few more IPC members and charging my bat up before swinging it in a sideways arc to hit three of them with a crackling smack that bowled over all three to the ground. Dodging a couple rounds myself, I kicked over one of the gambling tables and crouched behind it as I retorted, “This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy! I can handle a knock around or two!”

“Fork, color me surprised, small-fry,” the cowboy chuckled, doing an impressive twirl to shoot one of the grunts with a rifle. Two grunts with staffs rushed forward to try and do some sort of pincer move on him but he jumped into the air and backflipped onto a pool table. He tilted his head in my direction and tipped his hat with his left hand. “I feel like a right ash-vole underestimatin’ ya.”

I opened my mouth to reply even as he turned his attention to some more ground grunts running at him with staffs, noticing movement behind him. A couple riflemen were peeking up from behind the counter of the bar, both shifting like they were talking amongst themselves. One rifleman jerked their head towards the standing cowboy and the other looked like they hesitated before slowly raising the barrel to aim at the cowboy’s torso while the other rifleman watched with their own rifle slightly over the counter.

“Hold still, you,” an angry robotic voice sounded on my right, one of the standing large bots about twenty feet away. Its entire body shook as compartments in its shoulders opened and it released a couple rounds in my direction.

Yelping at the sight, I hopped over the table I was crouched behind and weaved towards the cowboy as I warned, “Rifle behind you! I got the staff guys!”

Explosives went off where I had just been, no doubt destroying the unfortunate table. The cowboy looked towards me at my outburst then scowled and spun around, firing off a shot at the rifleman aiming at him. The first hit the counter but a quick second shot knocked the rifleman out of the game, the other ducking back beneath the bar counter.

Running up to the grunts trying to charge the pool table I conducted energy into my bat again, swinging another arc to get a cluster of them before singling out the last couple. Huffing, I straightened just in time to see the cowboy shoot off again towards the bar, the bullet ricocheting off the shelves behind the counter just right to hit the hiding rifleman that you could see in the behind the bar mirror.

“Nice shot,” I said, extremely impressed at his marksmanship. I tried shooting a rifle after a fight on Belebog once and was immediately berated by Dan Heng when the shot went wild due to inexperience.

“Plenty more where that came from,” the cowboy smirked, tumbling off the pool table and firing off another shot from his left hand, hearing the creaking and fall of another large bot. “We'll have the rest of these muddle-fudgers cleaned up in no ti-.”

"In here!"

Both of us turned our attention towards the loud shout, noticing the sound of more footsteps from both exits to the lounge. I didn't realize that some of the remaining IPC personnel had run off, probably one of them or the ones that retreated at the start of the fight calling for back up. And it looked like it unfortunately arrived.

The grunts still in the lounge looked at each other before switching from a more disheartened and intimidated demeanor to a rejuvenated stance at hearing the fresh onslaught of IPC coming to help.

"I think we might want to reassess that statement there, cowboy," I tossed my head to the side with a groan. I rotated my shoulders to try and loosen them a bit before rushing forward toward the grunts still in the lounge. I noticed one of them raise their rifle towards me and prepared to dodge, but a few shots from behind me went off and both the rifleman and a couple other grunts were thrown back to the ground.

Charging between a couple of the other personnel, I grunted as a staff clocked me in the back after taking out one, two, three IPC with my baseball bat, a jolt running up my spine from the active orange staff-end striking against me. It made my tumble out of the way a bit janky, rolling to a crouch right as a bullet struck the tile a bit too close to me and I looked up to see more IPC pouring in from the lounge exits.

“Put your hands in the air!” multiple IPC shouted, barely coherent over the chatter of their fellows who barked out commands and orders.

"Fucking- this place is supposed to be relaxing!" I rolled and sprinted between tables and pillars as a barrage of bullets came towards both the cowboy and I. Running behind a pillar I did a hard pivot to run back out on the same side to catch the IPC off guard, able to weave through and hit a few. "I don't think I've relaxed the entire fucking time I've been at this stupid hotel!

“In the month or so I’ve been cognizant,” a wall of yellow almost slammed into me, yelping as I barely managed to jump up in time to tumble over one of the large bot shields instead of being slammed by it and chucked across the room as it swung at me. I tried to distance myself from it for now, wacking a rifleman on the head as I ran by. “-we’ve gotten two days without fighting or dealing with stupid diplomacy! MAYBE!”

Tumbling beneath another swinging staff, I bounced back to my feet and spun around to conduct an arc of crackling energy behind me to throw back the nearest IPC, three dropping to the ground and one flinching as a residual spark lashed out at them. I almost slammed into a wall of metal as I spun around to keep running, about to raise my bat to swing at them before realizing it was the cowboy I'd stumbled into, firing off an entire round of bullets at the crowd with audible success.

"Quit yappin'!" the cowboy growled, flicking his pistol to the side to empty the chamber of empty shells that clattered on the tile. His tone was gruff but he was looking way too pleased about the fight prolonging. "Or you'll find yerself diggin' your own grave!"

"I'll bitch in the middle of a fight if I want," I retorted, gaze flicking from looking up at the cowboy towards more movement. A grunt rushed forward to try and take advantage of the cowboy quick reloading, and I saw him shift to probably give another kick to the IPCs skull but I darted around him and swung upwards to clock them in the jaw. “It’s cathartic! Heads up!”

The IPC fell back to the ground and I used the cowboy as a bit of a pillar to move around, backpedaling to avoid another staff swing from a grunt that was promptly shot.

“Nice shot,” I complimented the cowboy before running out from his reach again. I started getting into a good flow of rushing off, smacking a few IPC and then either finding my next target or kiting someone around for the cowboy to take out. Anyone who tried to bumrush me or run away had to deal with a bullet, and anyone who tried to get too close to the cowboy earned a fast pass for a bat to the face.

Something felt off the longer the fight went on, but I ignored it in favor of surviving. I was definitely kind of tired and I’d be sore after this, but it wasn’t anything I hadn’t dealt with.

One of the larger bots lumbered towards the cowboy with its shield raised, blocking the bullets that were fired off in its direction. Narrowing my focus onto it, I hit a couple grunts on the way as I dashed towards it, jumping on a nearby pool table to jump high enough to jump over the robots shield. I focused on my bat and channeled as much energy as I could into it, swinging it down on top of its head as I landed on its back.

The entire thing spasmed beneath me as its carapace dented from the impact and energy crackled through it, overloading its system. My eyes widened a little as I realized what the off feeling that was growing was, thinking that I was incredibly lucky to have lasted this long but also thinking that now was the WORST time for this to happen any minute.

“Uh, hey, cowboy!” I shouted down, hopping off the robot as it fell forward. A grunt tried to intercept me but I beat them off with a “Fuck off, dude, I’m busy!” as I trotted up to another group near the cowboy and started wacking them. “Uh, cowboy?”

“Kind of busy shootin’ sons of nice ladies, small-fry!” the cowboy replied, firing off a couple more shots before looking towards me. “Whaddya need?”

“So, I kind of have this… condition,” I hesitantly answered, grabbing a pool ball and smacking it with my baseball bat into the mask of an IPC grunt.

“Wha- are you forkin’ kiddin’ me?!” he snapped with an anger that caught me entirely off guard and would have led to me getting bodied if he didn’t shoot at the IPC nearest to me. “You wanna talk about some kind of forking terms and conditions while we’re in the middle of a muddle-fudging battle with IPC shirt-for-brains?!”

“What? No- No, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m talking about, like, medical conditions.”

“Aw shucks, ma bad.” The cowboy went from angry to apologetic fairly fast, though his voice was still tense as he continued firing. “Could yer condition wait until after we handle these forkers?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, wacking another grunt. I felt mildly useless trying to stay relatively close to the cowboy because IPC was thinning around him, but I also didn’t want to charge out and get stepped on. I could feel my chest strain more as the Stellaron struggled to maintain my current size.“Unless you happen to have some Antimatter on you, which I highly doubt-.”

“Antimatter?” the cowboy asked in surprise.

“-then I’m just gonna need you to catch me before I hit the ground any minute now,” I finished, distracted trying to gauge the cowboy’s reaction. I didn’t notice the sound of footsteps that were closer than any of the other footsteps in the room, yelping when a sudden massive surge of electricity jolted through my side. With a fair amount of difficulty, I swung out at the grunt who hit me with a staff with an explosive charge of energy through the conduit of my bat.

It knocked them away successfully and allowed me a couple seconds for my body to handle the electrical charge going through it, but I both felt and saw that the Stellaron had reached its limit of maintaining my form, a couple of stray arcs of energy dissipating from my fingertips and bat glitching before disappearing from my grasp.

“Wuh oh.”

Like a star collapsing on itself, I yelped as one last burst of energy flared out from my body like a flashbang, finding myself only a couple inches tall a few feet in the air as my form collapsed and shrunk into my centerpoint.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, bracing myself to impact the tile floor below. It was a survivable fall due to my durability, but it definitely wouldn’t be a pleasant one, knowing from personal experience with a lot of soreness and bruising. However I found myself stopping short of the ground, hitting an arguably harder surface as I was scooped from the air in a metal hand. I was a bit dazed from the impact, not very helped by the cowboy being naturally loud.

“Well, holy forkeroni,” the cowboy said, grey and red eye zeroed in on me in his palm as I sat up. His attention was briefly pulled away and I was jostled as he spun and fired off a couple rounds while dodging a few IPC bullets. “That all ya got, you shirt-for-brains?! Yer ‘bout knee-high to a grasshopper, small-fry!”

“I- sure? I guess? Is there anywhere around where you could either put me down or maybe just get out of here,” I asked, trying to shake off the vertigo and look around to find a safe spot or clear route for him but he was moving too much for me to see well.

“Not with all these forkers ‘round, and I need both my darn hands to fudging deal with ‘em. Tch, hang on.”

“Al-right!” The last half of the word was a yelp as his hand lifted suddenly, making my stomach drop and causing a wave of dizziness as the force messed with the blood flow to my head. Blinking it away, my vision was once more shifted as I was tossed a brief moment into something. The sudden sequence of motion and change in scenery had me instinctively manifesting my baseball bat again, stopping the area around me from closing.

Gravity shifted around me again as I barely managed to hold onto my bat with one hand, my left shoulder straining as all my weight came down on it, falling from whatever small, dark area I'd nearly been tossed into. It wasn't until I noticed the two rows of massive, sharp teeth on either side of my bat and heard the surprised noise from the cowboy that I realized he'd just tried to toss me in his mouth.

“Aeon ‘arn it, ‘all-’ry! Ah-n ‘ryna ‘elp ya,” the cowboy mumbled loudly around the baseball bat currently locking his jaws open. His left hand was cupped beneath me, poised to catch me if I fell, and I saw fingers twitch like he was debating how to go about this.

Well, if I'd been given any sort of heads up, I wouldn't have ended up panicking as much as I had. There'd been an odd abundance of me being put in mouths, but this was probably the most chaotic and fast-paced to date.

“Nngh, hold on,” I said, trying to pull myself up enough to grab the bat with my right hand. Extremely difficult with him still running. A noise escaped my throat as his hand surged upwards, uncertain to what he was doing as I felt the tips of his index, middle, and thumb fingers press against my back.

My world blurred as the cowboy suddenly halted on his heel and spun to avoid what I could only guess was a swing from a staff from the streak of grey and orange that streaked by. In the simultaneous moment that a gunshot went off so close that it could only be from the cowboy I found my grip forced from the baseball bat as the fingertips against my back pinched the back of my hoodie and yanked me from the two walls of teeth that were now below as I was lifted from the cowboy’s face.

With the most still thing in comparison to everything else being the cowboy, it was incredibly easy for me to focus on his jaws as they snapped shut around my tiny baseball bat, the manifestation shattering between the shark teeth and dissipating into cosmic sparks.

I caught a brief glimpse of the cowboy smiling before he opened wide again and I found myself popped inside before I could really process anything past the daze of being jostled around so much. In fact, it was almost a relief when the pseudo-bone clicked close behind me, allowing me a reprieve from the chaos of being dangled around and shot at.

It was warm and humid with the tongue beneath me surprisingly soft considering the mechanical nature of its host. It wasn't offensively pungent but the space smelt of oil, grease, and other more chemical scents that brought to mind repairing robots in Belebog.

Something clung to me like saliva, likely some kind of lubricant.

I was expecting some amount of tasting or slickening up considering that was necessary - to a point - so that whoever was eating me wouldn’t end up choking on me. But, I guess it wasn’t needed for the cyborg because I instantly found the space around me tilting.

“A-Ack, give me a mom-ent,” I yelped out as the tongue flexed beneath me in preparation for the imminent swallow, squashing me flat against the roof of his mouth. I was barely given a split second as the tongue pushed me back and I felt the throat entrance seize around my ankles in a gulp.

I'm not even sure if his throat actually made the sound of the swallow around me or if it was just a habitual noise from his voice box, carrying a slightly robotic undertone like when he spoke.

As I was pulled into the embrace of his gullet, it felt bizarrely close to being eaten by, for lack of a better term, an organic person. Whatever material that lined his throat was just as claustrophobic as a normal esophagus and almost as pliable as actual flesh. From what little I could gather from the small amount of exposed skin I had, it felt like some sort of rubber.

The cowboy didn't reply to me and I was barely out of his mouth when he exhaled around me with a gruff growl, my surroundings rumbling as he shouted, “‘lright, you muddle-fudgers! Let's forkin’ finish this!”

He was, understandably, far more concerned with fighting the remaining IPC. However, I feel like my ears would have burst if I had been a normal human.

“Which one of you shirt-bags wants to be first in line for a bullet?!”

I felt his body shift and twist chaotically as I slipped past what constituted his collarbone, everything muffling a bit from layers of metal and whatever a mechanical creature would count as internal organs. It was definitely surreal.

It got warmer the deeper I was pulled down like the insides of someone organic, but less slimy or stuffy. Instead of slipping past a beating heart and the breathing of lungs, the somewhat muffled chaos outside overplayed with the sound of whirring fans and mechanical parts shifting against each other as the cowboy moved erratically.

It wasn't long before I was ejected from the relative sturdiness of his esophagus. I didn't realize how much the cowboy was running and dodging until I slipped into a small chamber and immediately started being bounced around the space like a ping pong ball.

Fortunately, it seemed like the walls were made of the same flexible material at his throat. Unfortunately, the space wasn't completely empty. I felt other… bits bounce around with me, unable to make heads or tails of any of it while essentially inside the living bouncy house.

I'm not sure how long I spent tumbling around as the cowboy shouted mother-sanctioned insults at the IPC and fired shot after shot while I can only assume backflipping the entire time based on how much I was being shaken. Eventually, everything stopped and I was flopped onto the floor of the chamber. I felt like I was going to get bruises in places where I didn't even think bruises were possible.

“Ah, hell. You aight in there, small-fry?” I was pulled from my dazed stupor by one side of the chamber being pushed in slightly and the cowboys voice above. For someone who, in the minutes I'd known him, seemed reckless and unabashedly brazen he actually sounded a bit sheepish. “Reck’n I prolly shook you up more than the tail end of a rattler.”

“You’re fine,” I replied, slowly pushing myself off the floor of the chamber. Something gritty clung to my hands with the help of lubricant and whatever other small puddle of liquid that shared the space with me. I flicked my hands in instinctive disgust to try and get rid of the feeling.

“You're takin’ this pretty well.”

“This ain't the first time I've been eaten,” I sighed as I mustered the energy to summon a spark to take stock of my surroundings now that I wasn't tumbling around everywhere. “Definitely the most chaotic though.”

“What the fridge? I woulda thought that your biggest concern woulda been finding yerself under some ash-voles boot,” I felt the space begin to shift and sway as I looked around, probably from him starting to walk or something. The walls were dark gray and seemed to be made of the same rubbery material as his throat, and around me was a thin coating of some kind of thick, grainy, gray substance that had the glint of metal scattered around.

That explained the shallow cuts I could see on my hands now.

“I can't say that being stepped on hasn't been a concern,” I replied, frowning in confusion at the gritty stuff around me. Spurred on by curiosity I ran my finger through the substance and gave it a cautious sniff. I'd noticed the somewhat pungent scent permeating the space but wasn't able to recognize what it was until I got a closer smell. Dulled by the potent sting of what smelled like malt juice diluted by lubricant, the grains smelt of something that reminded me of explosives, I scrunched my face in confused surprise. “Is this fucking GUNPOWDER?!”

“Mmmhm,” the cowboy let out a pleased hum like remembering a particularly delicious snack. “Nine millimeter, baby. Had a couple earlier. Might sorry ‘bout the clutter, but didn't exactly have time to clean house before fighting the muddle-fudgin’ IPC.”

“I… I don't know what I was expecting a cyborg to eat, but it wasn't bullets,” I sighed, cleaning my hand off on my jacket. “Eh, whatever. Can you let me out and help me get to the Astral Express please?”

“Ehhh,” the space tilted and squished a little, only able to assume that he crouched down. Guessing the guys habits, I wouldn't be surprised if he was seeing if any of the IPC had anything worthwhile on them. “I can take you to your train, but ya might need a mechanic.”

“Wait, what? Why?” I asked, frowning in confusion.

“‘Cause I can't just make myself vomit on command,” the cowboy replied, able to feel him stand up. “So unless your folks have a mechanic or something to make me spit ya out, we might be stuck up a shirt creek without a paddle until I come across another mechanic.”

I blinked in the dark space, part of me appalled at the news. However, this was weirdly enough also not my first time stuck inside someone who couldn't just cough me up considering Sampo.

“Please, for the love of the Aeons, just get to the train and find Dan Heng.”

#cinnwrites #g/t #safe vore #soft vore #g/t vore #nova #honkai star fail #boothill

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