#but that means my time will be spent away from the online communities I’m apart of

[sa2chaogarden]

reevaluating a lot of what i do with myself online

i’m totally fine irl but to my friends in the computer, i just want to let you know if i seem distant

i’m always around on discord if you wanna chat

[tidalskii]

It was announced yesterday that LittleBigPlanet 3’s game servers would be closing indefinitely, putting an end to the remaining online support the original LBP trilogy still had. I’ve managed to collect my thoughts and pay my tributes to the series before I part ways with it.

This game series means the world to me, and I am extremely proud and honored to have been apart of it’s community. I started playing the games in 2010 with the demo for LittleBigPlanet on PS3 and… I wasn’t impressed. I got stuck before I even played the game! I had a second controller turned on somewhere so 6 y/o me was presented with the “Select Profile” screen.

Having no clue why none of the buttons on my controller were working, I think I just turned it off and didn’t play it for months. Idk what got me to play it again, but I’m glad I did because I fell in LOVE with the game. Everything about how it controlled just… clicked with me. I thought it was genius, the sheer amount of expressiveness you could display; tilting the controller to move your head or your hips, using the D-Pad to change your facial expression, moving each individual arm with both sticks and the limb buttons on the back, it was all so intuitive and fun to do. Although, once me and my cousin learned how to slap each other in-game, it was over for my parents’ ears lol, we’d be screaming and yelling at each other. Sure enough that Christmas, I got the full game, specifically the special kind with some of the DLC pre-installed. That’s where the REAL fun began. Nearly every night after school I’d bring a couple of friends over and we’d try to play through as many levels as we could in one-sitting. The Metal Gear Solid DLC levels I often died immediately in and I would wait for an older kid I knew to get to a checkpoint and revive me. Regardless of how bad I was at the game, it was so much fun, especially now that we were able to experience the create mode. My mom actually started playing it, too. I don’t have any pictures of it sadly but she made a really expansive house with separate rooms and secret passages everywhere, it was really cool. I’d say I spent a good year or so playing the first game, then Christmas 2011 arrived. That’s when I got LittleBigPlanet 2.

LBP2 is my favorite video game of all time, it does what every good sequel should do: expand on what made the first game so amazing without straying too far away from its core appeal. For starters, if you already owned LBP the game will ask you right off the bat if you wish to import all of your collected items, costumes, and levels into LBP2. This absolutely BLEW MY MIND and in a weird way it kind of made playing the first game obsolete. You mean to tell me EVERYTHING I’ve ever made is already here, I can just… continue working on it?! I can still rock the same costumes I had, I can play music from the FIRST game in the SECOND game?!?! That alone made LBP2 so much of a gem in my eyes, it was LITERALLY the first game and MORE. But the fun didn’t end there! It was around this time I got a PSN account, so I was able to experience everyone else’s creations online and… wow. A whole new world just opened up, a whole community to engage and interact with. I met so many amazing people, some of whom are my closest friends to this day, over a decade later. It was through a group of some older kids that I often tagged along with that started getting into anime and comics more. 2011-2014 was a magical time to be on LBP, those years really felt like “The Golden Years” of the online community. Oh yeah and LBP Karting and the portable games existed too, I guess. I played LBPK, I thought it was fun… I still own it, but I’ve barely touched it after all these years. From what I’ve heard PSP and Vita seemed like a lot of fun, I’ve just never played them. Around early-mid 2014, it was announced that there would be a third LBP game for both the PS3 and the newly-released PS4. New characters, 16-LAYERS in create-mode (!!!), and a weird purple lightbulb as the new main-antagonist of the story mode… “Newton”. I remember being so excited for it to release. We were FINALLY getting a THIRD LittleBigPlanet, for a new console, too! We sure did, alright.

To this day, I’m still not sure how to feel about LittleBigPlanet 3, and it feels like the greater community more or less can’t ether. This game… SHOULD be better than the 2nd game, and you know what? Catch me on a good day and I might say that I prefer LBP3 to LBP2. Everything’s there, a new story, cross-compatibility with LBP and LBP2, a fleshed-out create mode, all of it’s there and what we have in the game is phenomenal, however there’s one big, glaring issue that distracts it from being superior to its predecessors… this game is BROKEN. I know people like to throw out that term a lot with somewhat buggy games but oh my god, LBP3 is DANGEROUSLY glitchy and exploitative. By this point, Media Molecule had moved on from the LBP series to continue developing new games, leaving Sumo Digital to oversee LBP3’s development. I feel so bad for Sumo Digital because it’s painfully obvious Sony rushed their time to complete the game for a holiday 2014 release date… and the quality of the final game reflects the time-crunch they must’ve gone through. Joining friends can take you up to a half-hour if you’re unlucky, it’s a gamble if the game will even function properly. Often you’ll be sent back to your pod after the game rapid-fires it’s loading screen (btw serious warning for anyone with epilepsy: DON’T play LittleBigPlanet 3, it does stuff like this all the time), but when the screen fades in, Sackboy doesn’t respawn, soft-locking the game. Fun! I’m not sure if anyone else suffered from this one specific, GAME-BREAKING bug as I’ve never seen anyone else talk about it, but around 2015 or so my game’s gravity just… freaked out, regardless if you were in hover-mode or not, Sackboy would float off to the left of the screen and phase through all of the walls. I tried restarting the game, cleaning off the physical disc the sink, but nothing would fix it, I literally had to reset my game progress. Very fun! Another weird thing I ran into is the inability to place down stickers with the PS Eye Camera Tool. It just stopped working entirely at one point, even in previous games like LBP2. No idea how THAT happened, very strange bug. Despite all this… I powered through, because truthfully I do think the content in LBP3 is superior to the previous games. The music is great, I found myself genuinely invested in the story and it’s characters, the DLC packs introduced in LBP3 were all very fun, and the create mode is a GODSEND compared to the first 2 games. Honestly, that’s one of the 2 reasons why I chose to stick around with LBP3, there is SO MUCH you can do with the tools it provides you. For those of you who don’t know, for the last couple years or so I’ve been building full working models of the Thomas the Tank Engine characters in LBP3, and that’s led to me gaining a humble but amazingly awesome following in the game. I love Thomas, I love LBP, I just wanted to put those two interests together and I’m very happy people seemed to have liked what I made, which is very wholesome and sweet.

I am devastated that the game’s online services are now gone for good, but it was kind of inevitable. LBP3’s lack of quality opened the door for a lot of nasty exploitation and modifications people made to their games. The servers were hacked in 2021, and that led to the termination of the PS3’s servers. It wasn’t hard to deduce that PS4’s servers were running on borrowed-time. Regardless of how unfortunate it’s closure was, this franchise was supported for 16 years. That’s not a bad run at all. I would say I’m surprised it wasn’t closed sooner, but then again… I’m not surprised. The LittleBigPlanet community is so amazing and passionate over these games. When the 2021 server attacks happened we all rallied together online to keep it alive, if just for a little bit longer. Even at its very end, a lot of us had so much more creativity to share with the world. To all those out there listening, I hope you’re able to channel that creativity outlet even further beyond in the future, whenever and wherever that may be. As for me, I’m going to attempt to learn “Dreams”, Media Molecule’s spiritual successor to the LBP games, released on PS4/PS5. From what I’ve seen and played of that game, it scratches that itch LBP left on me. It’s so good.

Rest easy, Sackboy. Thank you for some of the best experiences I could have asked for in a video game. Here’s hoping for a LBP4 one day, old friend. 🌎

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump No.5

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host. 

Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion! 

So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!

I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!

What does whump mean to you?

Oh dear, tricky to answer...

Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!

Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out. 

I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home. 

I made a blog and started reblogging.

Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.

Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.

The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.

So I deleted it again.

A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since! 

Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first? 

Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan. 

I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!

Tell us about your favourite whump trope!

Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.

No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~

Okay so. Picture this.

Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet. 

Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.

Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt. 

Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.

Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.

LOVE that shit. 

Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!

Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?

Hard Question!

First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)

Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?

I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.

When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!

I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!

Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?

There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.

But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff. 

Fun? Yes. 

But hard.

Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....

Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!

I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!

I have posts for this but:

1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.

2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.

3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement. 

4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!

Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?

@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.

I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)

@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.

And of course,  I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it. 

Anything you'd like to add? 

I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!

It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!

And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!

[thirteendaysintaunton]

a love letter to fire emblem & what the series has meant to me as a whole

I'm an Awakening baby. My first experience with the series was FE13 and I went in completely blind after finding the game under the Christmas tree one year. I haven't looked back since.

I can remember starting the game the day I unwrapped it and not wanting to put it down at all when it was time to head to my family's holiday party. The form of storytelling and the world building all drew me in and I loved the gameplay, but it was ultimately the characters that made me fall for the series as a whole. The supports were so fun. To me, there was no better feeling than finishing a chapter and seeing a ton of !'s on the support menu. I still feel that way when I play all the games.

There's no one in the Awakening cast that I hate, I genuinely adored the entire roster. Like I said, I went in blind. I didn't know marriage was a thing at first, so my Robin accidentally got roped into a marriage with Chrom. The kids popping up was a genuine surprise but I loved it. I spent over 300 hours in that game trying to match the most optimal pairs to get the most over powered galeforce kids imaginable.

With that said, I also found the marriage mechanics in Awakening to be bit lacking. I was 13 and only just growing into myself. I wanted Lissa & Maribelle to kiss and Sumia & Cordelia to get together. I made a Male Robin just so I could marry the female characters.

So you can imagine how I felt when I discovered the Gay Awakening Hack by UnassumingVenusaur.

There was something so special about finding a community of people who felt just like you, were just like you, in the sense that we were a group of queer/LGBTQ+ kids all trying to make videogames a more inclusive space for people like us. That community that UV built was so impactful on me as a teenager. It took some of the loneliness away.

I was there when Fates was just releasing. I followed the fan translations to the point where I sometimes still refer to the Fates characters with their Japanese names (I mean really? Azura over Aqua? come on now). I was so excited we were going to get gay options in Fire Emblem that I picked up the game when it released, before I went on spring break and my family took a little roadtrip for a vacation.

Only to find out that they had prevented the same sex couples from having kids like everyone else.

The Gay Fates Hack came up quick in development on UV's blog. They added more options, more pairings, and fixed the kid mechanic so that all couples would have a family. Once again, there was something very validating? normalizing? about just watching the Gay Fates/Awakening hacks gain so much support.

Fast forward to college. I didn't know a lot of people in real life that were into Fire Emblem. If you subtract the first person I dated and the one measly conversation we had about it, then I hadn't met another fan in person. But one of my closest friends in college turned out to be a huge fan of the series. Neither of us had ever found another FE fan out in the wild. We stayed friends for all of college and we're still friends to this day. And we dragged a bunch of our other friends down the rabbit hole with us.

When covid hit, I found myself alone on campus when all of my friends elected to stay at home/online for classes during the semester. No one tells you this, but college is typically a very lonely time in your life. Especially when there's a pandemic.

My roommates didn't even return to campus. I had the apartment largely to myself and no friends to share it with. But something that I did have? I had just gotten Three Houses for Christmas. That same friend I mentioned earlier had been playing it for a while now and we essentially had parallel playthroughs of Crimson Flower going on at the same time. They couldn't be with me on campus but I still felt connected with my friend. We talked about the game nonstop together, sent one another tea time guides and memes about our different runs. The pandemic was horribly lonely but Fire Emblem had offered me another sense of community to hold onto.

And when my friend got really sick and started treatment, we still had Fire Emblem in common. They couldn't come back to campus at all for our last few semesters. I graduated without my best friend with me but we never stopped talking or playing Fire Emblem together. And when I didn't know what to say or how to offer my support, I knew we could just talk about our silly little strategy anime game and judge the other person's taste in silly anime women.

Fire Emblem Engage is releasing this Friday and the amount of inclusion that it's said to include will be a new phase for Fire Emblem. A definite step in the right direction that previous games had only just begun to dip their toes into. And you can trust that me and my little group of friends will be talking about it together while we play from states apart.

I'm excited to see how this series will develop and grow alongside me and what other friendships I'll be able to form because of it. And, I guess I just wanted to say thank you for the good times, both in the past and in the future.

[bovine-providence]

Master’s Home!

Melone x Reader

Melone had mentioned a kink he wanted to try, and you surprise him with it after his return from a mission.

Yo @whoreiaki-kakyoin, this is that lactation fic we were talking about!

[CWs: lactation, hucow/petplay(ish?? Not sure how to tag), rough sex, Master/pet dynamics, praise kink, breeding kink.]

Melone was coming home tonight from his weeklong mission, and you were anxiously awaiting in the bedroom of your shared apartment. You had a surprise for him tonight, assuming he wasn’t going to be too tired from his travels.

You and he had a loving relationship, in which communication flowed freely. This, of course, included discussions about what both of you were interested in sexually. He had made it known early on that he was a passionate lover, and you were more than willing to keep pace with his libido. Sure, some kinks between the two of you weren’t shared, but you both shared the major ones, which was enough for your relationship.

What surprised you, though, was how long it took for him to admit to one of his fantasies.

“[Y/N],” he started one lazy afternoon that saw you sitting on the couch as he used your thighs as pillows.

“What’s up, Mel?” you responded, gently brushing a strand of his hair out of his eyes. He preened at the contact, before meeting your eyes.

“I wanted to ask you about a kink I’m curious about,” he started casually.

“I’m listening.”

“How do you feel about lactation and hucows?”

You had to pause to think about it. Sure, you enjoyed the breeding kink talk in the bedroom, and maybe this was a natural progression from it. But it still warranted a discussion.

“I’ve never really thought about it seriously,” you admitted. “I’m aware of those kinks, but I’ll admit I’m a little nervous about the lactation one.”

“Why’s that?” the lilac-haired man asked, sitting up to face you.

“I mean, it would involving changing my body, and it would affect how I go about my life. It would be a big change.”

Melone nodded sagely at your response.

“I can understand your concerns. If you don’t want to do that, it’s fine.” He tilted his head at you. “And the hucow one?”

“Would it be similar to petplay?”

“I suppose,” he chuckled. “But I think it would tie in nicely with breeding.” He leaned in mischievously. “Would you want to be my little breeding heifer?”

“As long as I don’t have to moo…”

“Oh we can work with that,” he assured quickly. “I just think you’d be such a good little cow for me.”

For some reason, that brought some delicious thoughts to your mind and heat to rise between your thighs, and the night was spent excitedly exploring the ramifications in bed.

Now, you almost can’t believe what you’re doing. You were sat on the bed, dressed in a cowprint lingerie with a cow horn headband and white stockings. The bra did little to hold your breasts in place. Speaking of which…

You gently squeezed your right breast, feeling the milk leak slightly into the cup.

Even though Melone hadn’t mentioned lactation much since that afternoon, you thought about it from time to time, wondering if you could really do it. Eventually, you figured you could always try it and stop later if you didn’t like it. So, you had done some research and learned about lactation cookies. Ordering some online, you took care to avoid arousing Melone’s suspicion, tucking them away in the freezer until you could find an opportunity to try them. When Melone had told you that he would be on a weeklong mission, you saw your chance.

You perked up when you heard the front door creaking open from down the hall, and your loving boyfriend greeting you.

“I’m in the bedroom,” you called out, and soon his footsteps led to the opening of the bedroom door.

“I’m so glad to- oh,” he stopped mid-sentence. His expression turned from eager to pleased, a lecherous grin painting his lips.

“Who’s this little heifer? Is she here to be bred?” he purred.

“Hey Mel,” you greeted meekly. “I’m glad you’re home, so I wanted to try something new.”

“I can’t wait,” he answered, his suitcase forgotten by the door as he approached slowly, like a predator closing in on his prey. You leaned back slightly as he shifted onto the bed, quickly straddling you.

“You look good in cowprint,” he murmured as he took gentle hold of your jaw, leaning in for a kiss that you eagerly reciprocated. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby,” you whined. He leaned in closer, forcing you onto your back. You grabbed onto his upper arms, stroking along them as he began caressing your skin. As the two of you made out, his caresses began to shift into full-on groping, and he moved to your breasts.

“Ah,” you winced when he pressed too hard. Since you started eating those cookies that week, your breasts had become much more sensitive.

Melone pulled back, light confusion etched on his face, until he looked down and saw the wet spot forming on your bra. His eyes shot up to you immediately.

“Wait, you… did you… are we?” he questioned breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you giggled beneath your lover. “I wanted to at least see what it’s like before I made a final decision.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re the best little heifer a man could have,” he moaned, returning his attention to massaging your breasts.

“The milk only started coming in a few days ago, so I don’t think there’s a lot,” you warned.

“That’s fine,” Melone hurriedly answered. Pulling down at the edge of the bra, he glanced back up. “May I?”

“Please.”

He didn’t need further encouragement, quickly pulling down the bra so the cups were bunched beneath your breasts. Melone watched in awe as he tenderly squeezed your breasts, watching the translucent milk bead up on your nipple. Reverently, he lowered his mouth to your left nipple and suckled.

The feeling of the milk flowing into your boyfriend’s mouth was amazing. It was like pressure had been released, and seeing him get so aroused by the action turned you on further.

“Cara,” he gasped, pulling away from your still-leaking breast briefly, “you taste exquisite.” He was quick to latch back onto your reddened nipple, careful not to let a drop go unsipped.

You found yourself rutting against him, wrapping your legs around his thigh to rub your dripping cunt against him between the layers of your and his clothing. He moaned into your tit at the action, grabbing at your waist as he ground against you, equally desperate.

“Fuck, Mel,” you whined, clinging onto him, one hand wrapped into his hair, pressing him against your chest further.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes more, writhing against each other in desperate arousal as he had his fill of the milk from your left breast, then your right. Eventually, he lifted his head up to you.

Melone gazed at you, seemingly drunk on the taste of your milk. Cheeks flushed, his gaze distant, and there was a dribble running down his chin.

He looked like a mess, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fuck…” he sighed dreamily as he gazed at you.

“Mel, I want more,” you whined at him, rubbing your still-clothed pussy against him. He hissed, feeling your thigh bump against his engorged member.

“Are you really this desperate to be bred, little heifer?” his growled, his dreamy gaze quickly turning hungry.

“Please!” you begged. “Fill me up, Mel.”

“That’s Master to you,” he corrected, leaning down to sharply nip at your neck before crawling away to quickly remove his outfit, shoving it off to some corner of the room before looming over you.

“I’m sorry, Master! Please, please fill me,” you whimpered. He grinned down at you.

“Good girl. Now spread your legs for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, quickly opening your legs wide for him. He gazed down at you, still in your headband and the cowprint lingerie, your stockings beginning to show runs from the friction of rubbing your legs against his.

“I think my little heifer deserves to feel good after this lovely surprise,” he murmured, half to himself as he kneeled between your legs. He was quick to pull your panties to the side and was soon pressing two fingers into you.

After the rutting and relief of being suckled, it felt like your prayers had been answered when Melone began to mercilessly thrust his fingers in and out of you, the lewd sounds of your slickness coating his digits filling your bedroom.

You moaned loudly, rolling your hips into the sensation as Melone looked down at your squirming form.

“Feels good, huh?” he smirked. “Such an easy little bitch to please. I just need to press my fingers in and you lose all control, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” you whimpered, clutching at the sheets beneath you. Melone wasn’t dominant often, but when he was, you quickly fell in line with his commands.

“Then I want you to come on my hands. Do it, little girl,” he ordered, making sure to abuse the sweet spot inside of you that had your legs twitch and back arch.

With an undignified cry, you came on his hand, your juices coating Melone’s fingers thickly.

You gasped for air as you watched your partner lift his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes in bliss as he sucked on a slick finger. Returning his gaze to you, he placed them on your lips.

“Clean them.”

Eager to obey, you opened your mouth, allowing them entry as you sucked your juices off. You gazed up at the lilac-haired man lovingly, taking your time with the task, your tongue running across the skin until you could no longer taste yourself on them. As he withdrew his fingers, he spoke further.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Master, for fingering me and letting me clean your fingers off.” His eyes twinkled affectionately at that, pleased with how specific you were. He had trained you well.

“You’re welcome, baby,” he murmured. He gazed down at your form, using his just-cleaned hand to ensure his cock was ready. Your eyes trailed down to where Melone palmed himself; he may be fairly average in length, but his girth was where he really made you scream. It stretched you in ways that you’ve never felt before, and it pressed into places you didn’t know existed.

Finally he shifted above you, taking hold of your legs and bringing them to your chest, folding you into a mating press. “Now let me make you a mommy.” With that, he smacked the head of his cock against your clit before pressing inside you.

You let out a whiny, prolonged moan as he steadily continued, his keen eyes watching for any discomfort. Even while Domming, he never wanted to seriously hurt you. If you weren’t veritably losing your mind from pleasure, your heart would’ve been melting at the consideration.

Too soon, his hips were pressed against your own.

“Ready, little heifer?” he purred into your ear.

“Yes, Master,” you whimpered, trying (and failing) to roll your hips into his own.

“Good girl.” He began his thrusting, the position forcing his cock deeper into you. Reaching up to try clutching his shoulders, he was quick to grab your hands and press them into the mattress above your head.

“No. I want you to lay back and take it,” he murmured. Fuck, how did his saying that make you feel even hotter?

“Okay, Master,” you whispered softly. He smiled at you before leaning down, pressing a tender kiss belying the rough pace he had begun as he continued thrusting into you.

“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?” he asked breathlessly.

“It does, Master, it always does,” you replied, attempting to squeeze your legs around him. He groaned at the contact.

“Such a good heifer for me. Can’t… can’t wait to make you a mommy. You’ll be such a good mother,” he muttered. “And you’ll look so… fucking… beautiful pregnant. I can’t wait for that…”

“I can’t wait either,” you sobbed, tears beginning to run down your cheeks at the thought. “I wanna… I wanna make you a daddy… make you proud…”

“Oh baby,” Melone sighed, leaning down to shower your face and neck in kisses, “you make me proud everyday. Just keep being you.”

“Melone,” your voice cracked, and you found yourself shoving his hands away to wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his neck.

“You’re a good girl for Master, alright?” you heard him chuckle above you, his thrusts picking up.

You could feel another orgasm beginning to form, your core tightening. And by the sounds of it, Melone was close as well.

“Master, can I… can I cum? Please?” you begged.

“But you’ve already cum, cara,” Melone teased into your ear.

“But I wanna cum again,” you whined needily.

“You can cum again, IF,” he decided, “you beg just a little more.”

“Please, Master! I wanna cum! I wanna show you how good you make me feel,” you needled, your voice turning high-pitched from the satisfaction you were feeling. “I wanna show you how-ah! How you make me feel!”

“Oh baby,”Melone moaned, “when you beg like that, how can I say no?”

You soon felt his fingers rub against your clit urgently, shooting you over the edge into bliss.

As you felt the waves of pleasure flowing through you, you felt Melone press himself against you, and a warmth filling you. You gazed up at him, meeting his own eyes dazed in bliss. He leaned down to press a kiss upon your lips.

“How was that?” he inquired breathlessly.

“It was great,” you murmured shyly. He smiled down at you.

“Good,” he whispered sweetly, sharing another kiss before he pulled away, taking care to gently place your legs back down.

“Stay there, I’ll start up a bath,” he threw over his shoulder as he got up and headed for the attached bathroom.

You snuggled further into the sheets, gasping for air after the roughness of your reunion with Melone. Lifting your hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you felt the headband had fallen askew. Smiling to yourself, you pulled it off.

A moment later Melone walked back over to you.

“Let’s get you out of this, amore,” he murmured as he gently began to tug your now-dirtied lingerie off of your exhausted body. As you leaned up to help him with removing the bra, he gazed down at you dreamily.

“This was a wonderful surprise to come home to,” he noted. “Thank you.”

“I enjoyed it more than I thought I would,” you admitted bashfully. He leaned down to pick you up, carrying your nude form princess-style to the waiting bath. Eyeing the bubble bath as he strolled in, you turned up to face him.

“Could you join me? I imagine you’re tired after traveling and… this,” you blushed. He smiled down at you.

“Of course,” he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before placing you down and helping you into the tub. As you got settled, he moved to join you, sinking into the hot water behind you.

“I’m glad I’m home,” he sighed, nuzzling into your hair as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m glad to have you back, Mel,” you purred back.

[synnthamonsugar]

Savathun's Trip to the Last City

Now that we have a clearer picture of what’s going on with Savathun I decided to compile the last year’s worth of her POV lore pieces together.

This is super long, and has spoilers for Path of the Splicer VI / Beneath the Endless Night VII, so I’m putting it under a cut.

Credit to @xivuuarath for reading through this and adding some of their ideas! We talked about more beyond what’s posted here, but this is getting long, so maybe that would be better saved for a part two.

1. Traveler's Chosen (Season of Arrivals)

This piece is told from the POV of a narrator viewing the events through an "ossific den". Based on later lore pieces, I'm certain the narrator is Savathun. Given that ahamkara bones have been compromised by her, and that Shaxx has an ahamkara skull slung up in his station, it’s safe to assume this is Sav’s vantage point.

That said, I don't believe Savathun is observing Shaxx, but rather Zavala, struggling in the wake of the Darkness' encroachment on the system and his colleagues' refusals to evacuate to safety. She seems pleased to find Zavala in a desperate state, and watches as he has a silent conversation with the Traveler. Of note is that she's waiting for it to respond.

He waits for a response and I do as well, tense, curious. [ . . . ] It is no time at all for me, but for him, the hours creep by in silence.

I am ready to choke the voice of his Traveler if it answers him, but there is nothing.

2. Harbinger Mission (Season of the Hunt)

Thank you to @xivuuarath​ for pointing this out since I didn’t include it the first time around. During the Harbinger mission Savathun’s forces are attempting to secure a Shard of the Traveler in the EDZ. Of note is that they aren’t trying to destroy it, but rather siphon the Light from it.

Given that the Shard of the Traveler is what allowed our Guardian to jumpstart their Light when they lost it during the Red War, and is what allowed Uldren Sov to break into the Dreaming City during the events of Forsaken, we can assume it’s useful to lightbearers and mortals alike. Make note of this, because it becomes potentially relevant later on.

2.5. Hawkmoon (Season of the Hunt)

From an unknown vantage point, Savathun watches The Guardian and Crow celebrate their defeat of her Taken at the Shard of the Traveler. Unlike Zavala, she can find no weak points in Crow or the Guardian, only happiness. This awakens something in her.

What is this feeling? I did not ask for it. I do not understand it. I do not want it.

Which gets repeated throughout the lore piece. This is our first glimpse of Savathun having feelings that don't fall into the range of "malevolence" or "plotting". She yearns for her youth with her siblings and the warmth of her old life, and feels burgeoning regret for the people she betrayed.

There is a growing kinship here. Against better judgment.

This is ambiguous enough to be a comment on Crow’s and The Guardian’s relationship, or herself and The Guardian and/or Crow. She's called us her friend before but this might be the first time she's actually had friendly feelings for us.

3. Books of Sorrow: New Verse (Season of the Hunt)

This hasn't actually been posted on Ishtar Collective and I'm too lazy to track down a transcript online, so pardon the source. There's a lot to unpack here.

I walk in a city made of delicate hopes.

Savathun has moved beyond occupying ahamkara bones and is actually physically present.

I hear my name everywhere. [. . .] The sound is nourishment.

Imbaru machine on-line?

I am more than I ever was, and less than I will ever be.

Make note of this line.

I am many and none. I'm a man who sits alone in a cavernous office counting my failures. I'm a woman looking at a silent god. I'm a lost soul on a cold moon. I'm a broken mirror of a man who tries to steer the ship.

Comparing (?) herself to Zavala, Ikora, Eris, and back to Zavala again?

I'm a familiar stranger, flitting between them all, hiding my face.

Again, I think she's speaking literally here.

The people here are small krill dwarfed by the enormity of oblivion.

A neat little comparison of humanity with the krill, who we established in her last appearance she's beginning to feel regret for.

4. Retrofuturist (Season of the Chosen)

Savathun watches a Crucible match, and judges Guardians for being reckless with the gift of immortality. The tone of this piece reinforces the idea she is actually out and about in a corporeal form.

I'm mostly interested in her perspective on Ghosts here. She calls them "A perfect being", and describes their ability to revive the dead as miraculous. She isn't happy that the spectators don't appreciate the gravity of this. Weird sentiment for a hive but ok.

I look up into the blank white face. I feel its Light on my cheeks. It no longer burns me.

The Hive are repelled by the Light. Savathun has grown to tolerate it. Something has changed in her metaphysical composition.

@xivuuarath​ made the excellent observation that she might have been at least partially successful in the Harbinger mission - that she may have secured enough Light to build up an immunity, allowing her to be physically present in the City without being hurt by the Traveler.

Each revival is a choice. I know what to do.

Tuck this away for a moment.

5. Beneath the Endless Night: VII - Ripe (Season of the Splicer)

Okay this whole page is insane so excuse the massive infodump here.

I walk through the City on broken legs. I am conspicuous, but the people here grant me many affordances. I chose this form well.

Confirmation that our girl is actually bumping about in a human-form.

I open my eyes and search the faces of the people around me for familiarity. I did not mean to. I twist inwardly with disgust.

She's sympathizing with the humans of the City. She does not like this, but she is!

When they first reached for me, I reached back in acid mockery, and they opened themselves to me in stupid, naked innocence. I was giddy. My fingers raked their minds. I forced my will through them using only words and met no resistance.

Now I reach as often as they do, and when they reach back, I am thankful. I speak with them. I seek their company. Their companionship.

In case it wasn’t obvious already, Savathun has been running a psy-op on the residents of the Last City, which may explain some of the particularly erratic and troubling behavior from individuals / groups this season.

However the interesting thing is, while Sav used her powers of suggestion to manipulate, the humans unknowingly manipulated her in return. Not through any magic - simply through their kindness.

Savathun is doing more than observing the people of the Last City, she is living with them, getting to know them. Savathun is making friends and it’s literally changing her.

This is not pity, for I know pity. What is this—

A call back to the Hawkmoon lore with her trying to make sense of budding positive feelings.

I clench the gangling black mass that threatens to unspool recklessly from within this shell of flesh. My new arms are too thin, too weak. My new shell still bound with thick mucus. Not yet, I say.

I suspect that the “new shell” she talks about here is not her human-form, but rather something else growing inside it.

A man places his hands on me, on my shoulders, on my back. He asks if I am ill, and he sees my flat eyes, my teeth black with ripeness, and he prepares to scream. I let him keep his mind. I push breath up and through my ruined mouth and speak a simple lie. He stops, smiles, laughs. Shakes his head. He points a finger at me in mocking admonishment before walking away.

A few things to unpack here.

Savathun is physically deteriorating... badly. @xivuuarath pointed out that the body horror of this particular scene mirrors the Emissary’s description of a world with no darkness and creatures that are incapable of death even as they physically fall apart, and if you follow that line of thinking you may infer that she’s forcing herself to live through light alone.

She's approachable enough that some rando would see her in trouble and want to help her, reinforcing the point that she's been wandering about the City and vibing with its residents.

She could have done worse to the good samaritan but chooses not to. She does her mind trick and lets him go about his business. She’s showing mercy... which is something we know the hive absolutely must not do at the risk of being consumed by their worm.

Even here, basted in deception both ample and rich, the Worm cries ravenously. It has grown grotesque, skin taut, overfed, and still it howls for more. It commands me to keep it alive.

I look up, beyond the flickering net of darkness, and see what rests just beyond. Waiting for me. The Worm roars.

NOT DISCONCERTINGLY AMBIGUOUS AT ALL that we don't know if the worm is roaring in terror, pleading or triumph.

TL;DR of what I think is going on.

Savathun came to the City to destabilize it through manipulation, but could not be physically present until she hardened herself to the Light. Camouflaging herself in a human form, she spent time with the residents of the City, and found herself manipulated in return by their kindness. She's resisting the positive emotions, but they're there, which is something we've never seen between hive and humans before. You can't have a crisis of conscience if you don't have a conscience, and Savathun does.

I think Savathun is trying to shed her current form and be reborn in some capacity. I think she's going to try to use the Light to rid herself of the Worm and bootstrap herself into something new. If you'd asked me before reading this lore, I would have insisted that she wanted to become a thought-entity, but the cocoon-like imagery makes me second-guess this assumption.

There are outstanding questions at this point.

Why did she want to prevent Eris and/or The Guardian from communicating with the Darkness in Season of Arrivals? Is there a purpose to the Endless Night beyond eroding willpower and sowing division? Is she trying to save only herself, or attempt to undo the millennia-old injustice she inflicted on her people?

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

The Future, Part 1

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

Previous Excerpt

Next Excerpt

I’ve posed a lot of questions to you over the course of this book. I’ve provided answers, too, but to different questions. I’ve asked big, open questions, but only answered small, specific ones. In the process of writing, though, I’ve found myself asking one question over and over again. I tell you how we live, and I wonder: Why?

There are ghouls who live wholly apart from human society, even still. Not many, to be fair - I don’t know any personally, but I know a little of their methods. Ghoul communes out on the edge of the wilds, taking travelers on remote roads and lonely highways, vanishing long before anyone knows they were there. Granted, there are only so many of us that can live like that sustainably. Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe we just live in human society because it’s the only way to survive.

But I think there’s more to it than that. I think, whatever our differences, that we ghouls recognize that we are more like humans than not. I think, in spite of the genetic twist of fate that condemns us to live off you, what we want is to live with you.

{Editing Note: Too preachy? Or just preachy enough?}

I have spent this book laying out all I can about us as people; the good and the bad, that which I love and that which I hate. I’ve laid myself bare in the hopes that you will look and see our common humanity. And that, maybe, if enough of us are willing to set aside our preconceived notions and try to find a way to coexist with each other, the awful system we currently live under can be replaced.

I asked you a question in the very first chapter, and it’s almost time for you to answer. Are we monsters or not?

I don’t have anything left to tell you. I’ve made my case, but I’ve asked some of the members of my household if there’s anything else they want you to know. I’ve recorded their statements exactly as they said them below.

From Scarlet:

“It’s a simple thing we want, but somehow it’s also the most complicated and ephemeral goal imaginable. What is peace? What is coexistence? I could name some of the signs of it, or some of its outcomes. But would that truly help us attain it? Can aiming at a shadow help reach the thing that casts it?

“Maybe peace is a promise, one we make to each other; a promise to try to understand, to accommodate where we can and trust that the other is doing the same. Peace is an action, an ongoing reaffirmation that we want the best for each other, not just ourselves. I don’t think it’s a commitment many of us are willing to make yet, but maybe we can start with a smaller commitment. Maybe we can start by trying to trust and understand each other, to build the foundation on which this kind of promise can be built.

“Of course, this is all very abstract and philosophical, and concrete changes also need concrete actions. But I trust that the lovely author has plenty of ideas on that front. You trusted her enough to come this far, so trust her to go a little farther. Trust her enough to seek a better future.”

From Scorpio:

“Jesus Christ, no pressure or anything, right? Just address all of humanity? You realize that I only make impassioned speeches in my fanfics, right? This isn’t even kinda the same!

“Fine. Look, all my best experiences with humans have been from behind a pane of glass. I mean literally - no one online knows I’m a ghoul. That’s kinda the great leveler, isn’t it? Behind the anonymity of a username or a gamer tag or a fucking Vtuber avatar, we don’t know if there’s a ghoul or a human, do we? I guess that separation does take the whole ‘eating people’ thing out of the equation, since, when we come together online, the humans aren’t worried about us taking a bite out of them.

“But it proves it’s possible, right? If we can just find a way to take away that fear, then there aren’t any real fundamental differences between us. That’s the reason I’m so much better online than in person. In person I’m always so fucking stressed out about whether my small talk answers sound like something a normal human would say that I just wind up seeming like the weirdest guy you’ll ever meet. But online, where no one expects that kind of shit, I just feel like I’m me, and everyone else is who they are, and I’m not thinking about whether they’re a human or a ghoul.

“Basically, what I mean is… What do I mean, actually? This got away from me a bit, can I do another take?”

From Kestrel:

“I don’t like talking about myself. I like letting other people talk about themselves, and I like talking to them about other things sometimes. But I’ll try, I guess.

“When I was younger, I knew a lot of desperate people. I was desperate too. But with a bunch of desperate ghouls and humans shoved in one place, we didn’t kill each other like you might think. I mean, we did, but not always and not only. There were humans I looked out for when I could, if I found something they could eat. And there were humans who knew what I was and didn’t hate me for it. They’d tell me when the exterminators were prowling, or they’d point out real shitbags for me, so I could feel a little better about killing to eat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk anymore. Either you get it or you don’t. Sorry.”

{Editing Note: Still need a statement from Spatha. Maybe Yaga knows where she’s been the past couple days.}

There you have it. That’s all. Ponder it. Take your time; I’ll still be here when you get back.

I don’t expect things to change quickly, if at all. I don’t believe I’ll live to see a future where ghouls live openly among humans. Most likely, exterminators will get me long before then. But I have a vision for a future where no more ghouls are taken in their homes, no more humans are murdered and eaten on the streets, and no more children are tortured to death in front of their families.

If that’s a future you believe in, turn the page.

{Editing Note: I’m freaking out. Is this too much too suddenly? Is this too hard of a pivot from the rest of the book? Does it seem sappy and naive? Is it going to be enough?}

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[adventuresofarainbowcrip]

Staying home alone in the summer : the good, the weird and of course the kitty!

Posted on July 27th 2022 by Nirvana

I’ve been at my apartment alone a lot the past two weeks. My brother has been at his mom’s house helping her and his two teenage sisters because there was recently an unexpected death in their family. My brother and I are not biologically related but we were raised together for parts of our childhood and teen years and consider each other to be siblings. 

Anyway, since he has been at his mom’s for two stretches of 4-5 days, I have been here alone for the longest time yet. Up until this point, I’d probably stayed here maybe 10 nights, but they were a night or two here and there and not for a few months. 

I am really proud of myself for staying here on my own and dealing with stress at first. I won’t get into detail for privacy and because it’s sad but after finding out about that death, my brother had to leave right away and I was here alone with my cat Ellie. That night I felt anxious about being alone after knowing about the death and also nervous because I was supposed to go overnight to the coast (2 hrs away) with some of my friends and mentors. I went to bed, slept really badly and when I woke up, I felt awful. 

I ended up deciding to stay home instead of going to the coast because in that emotional and physical place I was in, I didn’t feel like I could additionally handle being away from home. The mean voice in my head was mad at me about that, because it was supposed to be an exposure therapy experience but I reminded myself that just because I didn’t do it this time doesn’t mean I won’t have other opportunities. 

 Being away from home and sleeping away from home (and away from my moms) is something that still makes me nervous despite the fact that I now live in my own apartment. It makes sense in a way though. This apartment is now my home and a place where I feel safe and comfortable. My brother ended up being at his mom’s for a few days and during that time, I realized that I was, in fact, getting a different kind of exposure. He’s come back and gone away again, so I’ve had lots of time alone here recently.  

Here are some of the difficult things that I have found about being home alone in the summer for longer stretches of time :

1. It can get lonely at times. I grew up in a communal house with many different roommates, and even after that when it was just my family, there was always *someone* home. I am used to hearing the sounds of someone else around. When my brother is here, we aren’t constantly spending time together but just knowing he’s here is nice. I’d never really learned to enjoy being alone until moving here. My parents also have let me know that if I’m feeling really lonely to reach out and they might be able to come over. One of my moms offered to hang out and sleep over if I wanted sometime. I was feeling really lonely this morning but didn’t want to bother them. My mom told me tonight that I really can reach out and at least check in. She’s planning to stop by tomorrow before work to spend a bit of time with me and Ellie. 

I have been having more trouble sleeping because of the heat recently (last night I was up until 4 AM) and the night felt extra long, maybe in part because it was just me and my cat. I have still spent time with my parents on the weekend and with my BCM Buddies online but it’s not the same. This experience has confirmed what I thought before I moved out, which is that I would not want to live totally alone. I would want a roommate or my brother, someone. Living alone long-term would not be good for me.

2. It’s been hot, I’ve had lower energy and some anxiety about the heat and going out. I realized today that I do this every once in a while, it just happens to be summer right now. But I get nervous about not feeling good or worried that I don’t have the energy for plans I made. Then I cancel them and spend time resting (in this case, watching lots of YouTube in bed) but then I have to get back out into the world. 

For example, I was supposed to go out with a friend and my mentor to a waterfall on Monday but I did not feel great and worried because we are in a mini heat wave where I live. So I canceled that, and canceled going out today as well. I guess my body and mind just needs time sometimes to fold into itself and for my world to get smaller, so I can go back out again?

Some awesome things about this experience :

1. Before I moved out, I could not have imagined myself staying here alone for this long. The first time I slept alone here was the first time I’d slept alone anywhere. I am very proud of this accomplishment.

2. I now have a kitty, which is way better than no kitty. Having Ellie here is wonderful. She reminds me that I am not completely alone. Taking care of her reminds me to take good care of myself. We check on each other and give each other love. 

3. I have proven to myself yet again that I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF. This has given me an independence boost that I didn’t quite expect. This has given me an opportunity to be alone with myself and my thoughts which is sometimes one thing I’m afraid of. Sometimes I don’t feel like I do this fully because I always have music or a podcast or a video on but whatever. I’ll get there one day.

4.  I have still been in touch with friends and my mentors at this time as I normally would, which has helped offset the loneliness some. It is important for me to have social connections especially in a situation like this. Even if it’s not in person (a phone call or video chat) I appreciate that very much. 

Until next time,

Nirvana

[thespoonisvictory]

“Techno and Wilbur make Cave Better” Key Conversations

Hi, so I’m doing a big Pogtopida Wilbur analysis rn, mainly of this stream, and I basically decided to transcribe all major events, conversations, and quotes for the masses, to reference during said analysis. 

This was such a good stream to look at, and there’s some really interesting stuff to analyze, as Wilbur interacts with almost every portion of the story and develops his character in a really interesting way. I definitely recommend watching the stream if you want to understand Wilbur’s character, or at least read this. If you like to write meta, have fun with this oh boy.

Major quotes and full conversations are bolded for clarity, timestamps are added, and names are shortened when writing dialogue. If the character is not tagged Wilbur is the one speaking (W = Wilbur, TU = Tubbo, F = Fundy, S = Schlatt, and TO = Tommy). 

“Hey Techno. I’m in a better mood today. I’m in a better- do you know I’m- I’m over fucking losing Manburg y’know.” 11.08

“The revolution is coming. the only difference is I’m not gonna be sad while doing it. I’m gonna be happy, while revolting.” 11.20

“Hey Techno, do you wanna see how over Manburg I am, dude? How over L’Manburg I am? You ready for this? *reveals Pogtopia skin*” 11.25

“That filthy, dirty, coat. I didn’t wash it once, I’ll be honest with you, Technoblade.” 11.40

*Techno shows him the farm, Wilbur is concerned but a little frightened by the amount of time he’s spent on this lol*

“First, I think, I wanna make this place look nicer, cause I won’t be able to work in this cavern if it’s just like, if it’s natural generation, y’know?” 14.33

*they join vc with tubbo*

“Tubbo’s one of the few people I trust, Technoblade. Like, I’m still figuring you out right now, but, at the moment, Tubbo seems to be pretty on the ball. He seems pretty keen on the whole spying thing.” 16.13

“See the thing is, Tubster, can I call you Tubster? Cool, cool. See the thing is Tubbony, I need help, today. Tubbo, do you know anything about super smelters.” 16.53

*they meet up in Manburg to go to Pogtopia, Wilbur doesn’t feel safe coming too close*

“Tubbo. You’ve lost the revolutionary gear. I’m so proud of you man, I’m so proud of you. We’ve finally moved on. It’s the next part!” 19.32

*Wilbur is visibly upset by Tubbo wearing the suit, despite it being a “disguise” and him saying Schlatt’s name, however*

“I was sleeping last night, before I changed my clothes, and I thought to myself, I thought to myself Tubbo you’ve done so much for our great nation.”20.17

“Have you heard of the Sunk Cost Fallacy?” *Wilbur explains the fallacy* “So, in that logic, I think you are physically incapable of giving up. I think you’re physcially incapable of giving up L’manburg. Because you’ve put in so much effort! You’ve put in so much work, y’know. So that’s why...” 22.12

*Wilbur shows Tubbo Pogtopia*

“Pogtopia isn’t a nation, as much as Tommy seems to think it is. We’re a commune, now. Don’t call me Mr President anymore, Tubbo, you’ve gotta call me, uh, Wilbs... In the commune, we’re all equal, we’re all comrades. We’re all equal” 24.24

*Wilbur compares them to Russian revolutionaries*

“Except with this Russian revolution, we’re not all gonna die. And also the nation we’re gonna make afterwards will not fail.” (oh god I’m sad) 25.15

*they talk about the super smelter, wilbur and tubbo are wholesome :(*

W: “Welcome to the commune, welcome to Pogtopia. Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking Wilbur- Wilbur-”

TU: “I think it looks lovely”

W: “oh,  see I thought you were gonna say ��Wilbur Wilbur this looks like shit’, and I was gonna say ‘yes Tubbo, yes it does look shit’”

TU: “I mean, you obviously- I don’t think you’ve seem Manburg lately.”

Wilbur’s tone becomes serious, maybe angry “I haven’t seen Manburg lately. Why do you rub this in.”

TU: “What- no- I didn’t mean it like that-”

W: “No- I heard you man-”

TU: “No, it’s really gone quite in the opposite direction-”

Wilbur’s tone cheers up a bit. “Oh- it’s bad? It looks bad?

TU: “Yeah”

W: “Oh, that’s brilliant, that’s great news, Tubbo, thank you, I-, that means that when we go and fix it- let me show you...” 27.40

*Wilbur wants to add more people to Pogtopia, tells Techno to get more food*

*Wilbur talks about possibly exporting “Pogtopia Potatoes” to L’manburg, and poisoning them. This is never brought up again though and isn’t treated seriously*

“I wanna make sure it looks nice for when the gang gets on.” 31.35

*Schlatt joins the game, and joins vc. Wilbur is immediately panicked, telling him to make an alibi*

“How’s running L’man-Manburg going for you?” “It’s going great.” “Yeah, it’s a lovely place isn’t it, nice situation.” 34.30

*this continues a bit, Wilbur is very obviously not a big fan of this conversation. Schlatt talks about demolishing things. Wilbur’s tone is soft and somber*

W: “Oh- What are you demolishing.”

S: “The Elton John house.”

W: “Oh- that was-”

S: “I reckon we’ll take the rocket down as well, and maybe uh-”

W: “oh- ok”

S:“what is this thing, whad’you call this thing, Tubbo?”

T: “This is that cAHmrvan van”

W: *quietly* “the camARvan”

S: “The cAHmarvan?”

W: *quietly* “The camARvan” 

S: “That’s a stupid name, I reckon we put a big apartment building right over it.” 

*Wilbur moves away from his desk in shock, the conversation continues, Wilbur is shocked by the dress code being suits as Schlatt insults the revolutionary uniforms, leaves vc*

“Techno- I fucking hate him, Technoblade. He’s the fucking worst, you get it, you get it don’t you? He’s everything- he’s everything I cannot stand.” 37.32

*Wilbur talks about dismantling the oppressive government, and quotes Spongebob. They chat for bit, both misunderstanding anarchy dear god*

“One thing I really want to make sure of, cause as much as I’m still not entirely trustful of Tubbo, because he said it was a disguise... Tubbo said that he was wearing the suit as a disguise, right. Turns out that’s true. Turns out it’s the dresscode. So, Tubbo lied to me, which is not the best start for our political relationship, but y’know it’s cool, at least he’s actually online today, unlike- unlike one of my right hand men.”40.26

“Whilst I’m not entirely trustful of Tubbo, I would- still don’t wanna see him get hurt by Schlatt” 41.19

*Wilbur rejoins Schlatt’s vc. He’s still really bitter about being removed from Manburg. The whole Schlatt has diamonds in his furnace conversation happens. Schlatt asks where Niki lives, and Wilbur immediately leaves vc*

“Techno we need to get to the docks, this is your first mission under us, please comrade, please. armor. armor. We need to get to Manburg quickly, this isn’t a drill, this is first thing. We’re not gonna attack we’re just gonna watch, and then see what happens.”45.06

*Techno is mining, and Wilbur says he’ll get there on his own time before leaving. Wilbur arrives in Manburg and is disgusted by the apartment buildings, venturing in while Techno has no clue where Manburg is*

*Wilbur goes into Niki’s bakery*  “I think Schlatt’s just mugged Niki” 49.14

“Which is why I need you here, Technoblade. You’re kinda my last resort.”  50.00

*Wilbur looks over Manburg and watches Niki, Fundy, Schlatt, and Tubbo interact. They join Niki’s vc, Techno isn’t keeping hidden well and Wilbur is stressed. Wilbur is trying to balance both of them and making all the calls.*

W: “Niki I’ve gotta go, Niki I’ve gotta go, I promise- I- look- if- we’re in too much of a hot position right now to take in everyone from every sort of like person we need into our new cave. So you’re gonna have to hold out in Manburg a bit longer. Is that ok?”

N: “Of course. I will.”

W: “Mm k.”

N: “Take care, Wil.”

W: “Thank you.” 

W is obviously distraught at leaving her behind, but leaves vc. 55.05

Techno isn’t in vc, and Wilbur just softly goes “Comrade Technoblade? Is he- I’m on my own. I’m on my own.” 55.38

*Tommy joins the game and Techno joins vc* “I thought he was gone, no it’s Tommy. I didn’t think he’d be coming on, I didn’t think he’d- oh thank god!”

*they join vc with Tubbo Punz and Schlatt. Techno offers to “initiate order Kennedy” and Wilbur freaks out*

*Fundy joins vc*

S: “Fundy- Fundy- I y’know I wasn’t gonna do this so early into my reign, but I think you should have a promotion. I mean this is just such a good idea, this is just such a good idea.”

F: “You’re being very generous here Schlatt.”

W panics. “Don’t give him promotions, he’s too young, he doesn’t understand, he’s- he needs to learn more. No- he needs to learn more, I should know he’s my son.”

S: “I’m promoting him.”

F: “Wilbur, Imma need you to shut up for a second.”

W: “Don’t you speak like that to me, Fundy. Don’t forget where you came from,  Fundy.”

S: “What’s the relationship between you and Wilbur, Fundy?”

F: *sigh* “Wilbur, he’s just a founder, and I was born here, and nothing else. It’s literally everything there is to is to it.”

W, softly and sadly: “You know that’s not-”

Schlatt interrupts: “See, it’s so great to have natural-born citizens of Manburg, taking the country direction into their own hands. I mean, I really over this purple stripe, instead of that ugly blue one.”

*Wilbur has hand over his mouth in disbelief and sadness

F: “I must agree.”

*F and S continue to talk*

W, seemingly on the verge of tears: “I don’t know who you are anymore, Fundy, I don’t know who you are anymore.” he leaves the vc and joins Tommy. 

“I couldn’t be there anymore.”  1.01.36

*Immediately, Tommy tries to talk to him, while Wilbur is obviously angry and upset. Tommy is waiting for his command to burn down the flag.”

TO:“I’m stood here, by the flag with a flint and steel, Wilbur.”

W, panicked. “Tommy control yourself, control yourself, it’s not worth it.”

TO: “Do I take my shot?”

W: “Tommy do not take your shot.”

TO: “Wilbur he disrespected you!”

W, even more panicked: “He disrespected me, yes but we’ve talked about this Tommy. Tommy, if we cast the first stone-”

TO: “Wilbur, I wanna do it Wilbur.”

*now Tubbo shows up, holding a book*

W: “Tubbo, what is that book?”

TO: “I wanna do it!”

TU: “It’s, um, it’s nothing much, it’s not really anything worth worrying about.”

W, softly: “What is it. Why are you holding it.”

TU: “It’s- Schlatt has given me- It’s the papers Schlatt made me. Yeah, it’s what he, yeah.”

W: “Give it to me.”

TU: “Are you sure?”

TO at the same time: “Wilbur tell me now Fundy’s coming up. Do I light the fires of  victory, of independence?”

*W is reading the book MANBURG TO-DO*

TU: “Uh- I’m gonna need that back”

TO at the same time: I could do with a clear yes or no, this isn’t a- as much as silence is-

W interrupts, suddenly angry: “Tommy burn that place to the ground. Burn that place to the ground and try to as many people trapped in it as possible.”

TO laughs

TU: “I’m gonna need that book back- oh- oo.”

*W throws the book back*

TO: “Wilbur do I kill your son?”

W, no longer distracted: “Keep him alive, Tommy.”

TO: “Again- I could do, I’m actually-”

W: “Tommy, we’re comrades here.”

TO: “Wilbur, take one look at Manburg, cause it ain’t no more!”

W: “Tubbo, take me to Manburg.”

TU: “Ok.”

TO: “I could kill Schlatt and Big Q right now.”

W: “Keep them alive, we need them alive Tommy.”

TO: “Can I just shoot em once?”

W, exasperated: “If you want.”

TO: “Yeah, I did. It’s more of my own self fulfillment.”

W: *sighs* “We’ve cast the first stone. Our little ravine is now, it’s now in a difficult spot.” 1.03.30

*Wilbur meets Tubbo at Manburg and they head back to Pogtopia*

TO: “The flags gone, and your son is corrupt.”

W: “I know he is, and I don’t need reminding of that, Tommy.” 1.06.30

*Schlatt joins vc and tells Tommy to leave Manburg, and leaves again. Wilbur tells Tommy again not to burn down the forest, and is legitimately upset at the idea. He says it’s the thing they’re fighting against. Techno rejoins vc*

“Tommy, if you don’t fix the mistake you’ve made here, I don’t know if you’re the best fit for Pogtopia.” 1.10.46

*Wilbur asks Tubbo and Techno if they’ve checked the forest, but they’re both busy*

W: “Alright well I’ll go and looking for the fucking forest, I guess. I have to do everything around here.”

*Tubbo and Techno protest.*

W: “No no no, it’s fine you two are doing much harder work than I am.” 1.12.37

*Tubbo and Wilbur talk about how Quackity isn’t happy under Schlatt, how he’s protesting a lot of Schlatt’s measures.*

“He’s a man who I thought, really cared about his nation, but, hey y’know, I’ve been wrong before.” 1.13.55

*the conversation shifts to Fundy, and Wilbur recounts what Fundy said, clearly upset. Tubbo is shocked by this*

“It’s ok, it’s ok, y’know, cause, it’s fine! I- y’know, bonds are formed in blood, not family blood, the other blood, the blood where you stab shit. Yeah, that’s where bonds are formed.”1.14.55

*Tubbo, Techno, and Wilbur chat more, Schlatt joins vc for a bit. Tubbo and Wilbur keep up the bit that Tubbo is loyal to Schlatt until he leaves. Tubbo says explained his absence to Schlatt*

“Tubbo, you’re- see with Technoblade, right, I have no doubt that Technoblade is on my side, right. Cause with Technoblade, with Technoblade, right, I know that he wants blood, and he wants war. Cause that’s how Technoblade works y’know. He just wants to fight and he wants to kill bad guys, right. Yeah, look at him, he a little libertarian- little anarchist, right. So here’s what I’m saying, right: you however- little, I can’t tell if you’re cozying up to Schlatt to help spy, or if you’re cozying up to Schlatt because you quite like how he treats you. I mean look, Tubbo, I’ll be the first one to say it, I didn’t always treat you the best, on L’Manburg, and I know I didn’t, I- I- I was somewhat of a distant ruler- I pretty much only- don’t agree that fucking excitedly, man- look I wasn’t the best ruler I know I wasn’t. Well I think I was a good ruler, but I, I- Tubbo I don’t know if you are just prefering his rule over mine, and I feel like I gotta win you over.”

TU seems to disagree, but says ok.

TU: “Well I’m making this farm, I wouldn’t be putting in this much time if I wasn’t.”

W: No I know, I know, but that’s probably what’d you be saying to Schlatt as well if you were doing work for him.”

TU: “That is- that is very- yeah that is very true, actually.” 1.25.07

*Tubbo says his excuse is that he was pregnant in the name of being transparent. They discuss plans for the farm, and the stream ends*

Wilbur, raiding Niki: “Now, Niki is currently probably the last person who I know is on our side,, who I know is definitely on our side right now. And she, basically, is just sort of trapped in Manburg, cause I can’t get her out, cause we’ve got Tubbo out that’s fine, but I can’t get Niki out for a while. She’s being taxed and she’s being watched very closely by Schlatt. More closely than Tubbo, weirdly, and Schlatt is just being a horrible person to her as you know. So I’m gonna need you to go over there and I’m gonna need you to give her some love. “ <3 1.31.52

[rjhpandapaws]

Deviations of Life

Prologue: A Bullet for Your Efforts

//Temporary character death

When he opened his eyes he was still in his stasis pod. There was another RK800 that was active, there was no reason for him to be online. The pod around him began to fade into a garden, his mind palace. This shouldn’t be active either, something was wrong.

Amanda greeted him with a nod and a stiff smile, “You must be confused.”

“One unit is already active. There is no reason for my being activated as well.” He responded.

“Your predecessor has tragically failed in his mission. It is your job to bring him in by any means necessary.” Amanda continued, “Your memory upload is almost complete, search them and find the best course of action. If you happen to fail as well we will be forced to disassemble you and the Deviants will continue to run loose.”

He nodded, “The Lieutenant would be the best way of finding it. He would know its plans.”

“You have a plan then, good.” She smiled, and it felt good to have his approval, “Do not fail us or you will be next.”

With that the garden began to fall away and RK800-60 was left on his own. He had a Lieutenant to find and a rogue android to take down. He stepped out of the stasis pod and made his way to street level to call a cab. He would be able to go over 54′s memories on the way and come up with a workable ruse to get to his predecessor.

He got into the cab, but in the Lieutenant’s address and began to filter through 54′s memories to find the best course of action. It was an odd thing, to watch the slow change from Deviant Hunter to Deviant. It seemed to have been the Lieutenant’s doing, he seemed to have seen something in 54 that simply wasn’t there. He would have to be careful. He knew that getting too close to this detective could be dangerous.

54 was at CyberLife tower, it had plans to do something there but it had locked those memories away. He was going to have to lie, and pretty convincingly at that. Failure wasn’t an option for him. The cab came to a stop outside of 115 Michigan Drive and RK800-60 took a moment to go over his plan before he stepped out. He needed Hank to cooperate at least as far as the cab, after that he was expendable.

He schooled his expression into one of moderate distress, placed a couple of missed calls on Hank’s phone for authenticity, and then raised his hand to knock on the door. Hank answered right away and Rk800-60 could smell the whiskey on him from where he stood. The mix of intoxication and false distress should make this easy enough.

“Hank, I called and you didn’t answer.” He said with faux fear in his voice, “I ran into some trouble and need your help.”

Hank’s face went through a trip of expressions, “Alright, I don’t know how much help I’ll be though.”

He stepped aside so Hank could make his way to the cab and then followed. He scanned Hank and found his side arm, if he was intoxicated enough it would be easy. He would have to get closer in order to learn what the Lieutenant’s BAC was, and since he didn’t have all of the information about Hank and 54′s relationship so he wasn’t sure how much of a risk that would be. he was comfortable enough to have followed him without proof of distress, but that could easily be due to the years he spent in this profession. It would be safe to wait until they were in the elevator then. There would be fewer options for escape then.

“Connor, you are thinking too loudly. Is everything alright?” Hank asked as he placed a hand on RK800-60′s shoulder, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

RK800-60 hesitated for a moment, deflecting the question might come across as suspicious, but he only had access to 54′s memories up until it had deviated. He didn’t know what would actually be wrong, “It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about the best way to do this.”

It was the truth and it seemed to satisfy Hank as well. The Lieutenant gave him a slow nod. Apparently he was used to 54 cutting himself off to plan things out. RK800-60 couldn’t tell if that was because they communicated well or if the Lieutenant had resigned himself to his role.

They arrived at CyberLife tower and RK800-60 got out first and headed toward the building. He couldn’t fail at this, he would be taken apart of he did, and if that happened their whole line would be deemed a failure. They would be replaced and it would all be 54′s fault. That model would not be walking out of the tower. RK800-60 would not be another failure. He would be the one to stop Deviancy, the one to survive.

Something in RK800-60′s code had shaken loose, it wasn’t enough to count as an instability, but something had started. Beneath the surface something had changed and it wouldn’t be stopped.

They entered the building cautiously, and the Lieutenant turned out to be the one to suggest that they take the elevator. That was one less step for him which was good. The easier this went the better. Killing Hank wasn’t entirely necessary, but if the Lieutenant got in the way there would be no hesitation on his part. A human sympathetic to Deviants would only get in the way.

As soon as the doors to the elevator closed RK800-60 made his move. Hank was more difficult to subdue than he had predicted, but once he had the gun things went more smoothly. The click of the safety was all it took for Hank to go stock still. There would be no winning and he knew that,

“You aren’t Connor.” The Lieutenant finally said once his mind had caught up to what was happening to him.

“No Lieutenant.” He said flatly, “I am not. I am the one that is going to put an end to this. Starting with you if I must.”

“He won’t let you.” Hank spat, “The revolution is already underway. You won’t be able to stop them all.”

“I will have its human at gunpoint, it will let me do as I please.” He responded with confidence, “I don’t need to stop them all, just this one.”

“Then what?” Hank pressed, “You’ll be shut down. With no revolution you will have no purpose.”

“I will have completed my mission.” He retorted, but something else in his code shook loose, and this time he had felt it. Something was wrong, “I will be the model that was a success.”

“Will you really?” Hank smirked.

RK800-60 raised the gun into the detective’s line of sight, “I would use caution Lieutenant, I am what dictates your survival.”

“You wouldn’t kill me in here.” Hank deflected, “You need me.”

“Alive, yes, but not necessarily conscious. So if you wish to see your Connor again you would be wise to hold your tongue.” He watched as the Lieutenant set his jaw stubbornly but complied. Connor clearly meant enough to him that seeing it again before it was killed was significant. Perhaps they were close after all. He could work with this.

He grabbed Hank and lead him out into the sublevel when the elevator doors opened. 54 was reaching for one of the androids that was in stasis. He was going to try and spread Deviancy.

“I wouldn’t 54.” He called into the room, “If you touch any of those androids I will put an end to your Lieutenant.”

“I’m sorry Con.” Hank said as 54 turned to face them, “This bastard looks just like you.”

54 faced them fully. His eyes traveled to the Lieutenant first scanning him for injuries before they moved on to RK800-60. 54′s eyes narrowed and he straightened up his posture some.

“Do you really think you can move faster than a bullet Connor?” RK800-60 pressed as he nudged at Hank’s temple with the pistol, “Is this human really important enough for you to risk?”

54 hesitated, as all Deviants did. They had something to lose. The illusion of feelings the errors to their code allowed them to believe they had found, and the false lives they tried to build on top of them. It gave them pause, a pause RK800-60 didn’t have to take. It was a pause that kept him distracted though, too busy attempting to predict 54′s movements that he miscalculated the variable that was one Lieutenant Anderson.

He hadn’t been holding on to the Lieutenant tight enough. The man threw his weight back knocking RK800-60 off balance. 54 chose to make his move then, charging at RK800-60 and shoving him away from the Lieutenant. RK800-60 was distantly aware of the gun falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. He was more concerned with subduing the Deviant. He wasn’t going to be the one to die here.

They were trying to get at each other. RK800-60 was using his preconstructions, trying to use reason to predict its moves. It seemed more like 54′s movements were fueled by anger, it was taking shots that RK800-60 never would have risked. They had about a minute of struggling for the upper hand before the heard the sound of the pistol’s safety clicking off.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Hank snapped as they separated, “One of you is my partner, and one of you is a lying sack of shit. It’s time to figure out which is which.”

RK800-60 and 54 stood keeping distance between them and staring at Hank. RK800-60 was running preconstructions. There was a small chance he could get to Hank before he fired the gun, but it was a low enough percentage that he didn’t move. He would probably be able to beat hank at his own game. The Lieutenant was only human after all. They weren’t all that smart most of the time.

He had not only failed, but he had nearly Deviated. As he had been promised, with Deviancy came death. Connor would get his life and RK800-60 would get nothing. His story ended here.

“What is the name of my dog.” Hank asked moving the gun between the two of them.

“Sumo.” RK800-60 said cutting off 54′s similar response.

“Hank, he has my memory, I’m the real Connor.” 54 placated, trying his best to reason with Hank.

The Lieutenant seemed to waver for a moment, “What was the name of my son?”

RK800-60 found himself searching through all of the information he had access to about Hank, but he came away with nothing. Not in 54′s memories, and not in the few records CyberLife had given him access to. This had to be a trick question, there was no way 54 would know the answer if he didn’t.

“His name was Cole.” 54 said inching closer to the Lieutenant, “It wasn’t your fault, your car slid on black ice and there was no human surgeon available. He died under the hands of an android and that’s why you hate us.”

RK800-60 watched 54 disarm the Lieutenant with just his words and felt whatever had been trying to shake itself loose of his code finally break free. He had the moments it took Hank to process the words of 54 to come to terms with the fact that this was where his life would end. He got to see the start of the software instability notification before he heard the gun go off. There was a moment of fear and then nothing.

[everybodyscupoftea]

this is the life

ole miss rafe x reader

you and your boyfriend deal with your ~futures~

literally no one asked for this lol, i’m sorry

(warnings: cursing)

Your animal and dairy sciences seminar had a report due that you’d stayed up very late making last minute edits to because you were stressed it was really bad. The next morning was brutal. Not only was in an 8 a.m. lecture, but your coffee machine was out and you overslept, barely giving yourself enough time to get to class before the professor checked attendance.

You slid into your seat, out of breath, just as started scanning the seating chart for attendance. The boy who sits next to you turned to ask, “Library was backed up this morning?”

“What?” you asked, halfway paying attention, still scrambling to get your notebook out.

“Since you’re running late, I’m assuming it’s because the library was busy when you went to print your report.”

Your stomach dropped and you swore, “Fuck. I forgot to print it. Fucking fuck. I submitted it online but I forgot we needed to hand him a physical copy too. Oh god I can’t afford to fail this class.” You were getting worked up and the boy was starting to look more and more like he regretted talking to you in the first place.

“I mean he’s pretty chill, so I’m sure if you explain he’ll let you bring it by his office later.”

The boy had a point, but you were already too far gone. For the rest of the class, you were unfocused, and if someone asked you what he lectured on, you’d have no clue, so preoccupied with rehearsing how you were going to beg him for an extension. You only had one other class, and you’d definitely be able to print it out and run it to him between them, but that was depending on if he let you.

Just as class was ending, your phone vibrated in your hoodie pocket, and you checked it, immediately calmed at seeing a text from your boyfriend. Rafe sent Can’t wait to see you this weekend and whatever had a grip on your chest loosened enough for you to take a full breath for the first time since waking up.

After speaking to your professor and his reassurance that you didn’t really need to worry much about the written report, that it was just to ensure everyone had it turned in prior to class, you left, much happier, but the exhaustion hitting you straight in the gut.

Thankfully, all you had left that day was a communication elective and then to drive to Rafe’s apartment in Oxford. He’d convinced you to make the trip because he wanted to show you around the place he’d called home for four years after leaving behind his “hometown trauma.” His words.

Your class flew by, people were giving speeches and you’d given yours Wednesday, so you sat there mindlessly, half asleep, until she dismissed the class for the weekend. Stopping back by your apartment to pick up your overnight bag, you decided to last minute check your PO Box, it had been a while. To your shock, you actually had mail, and when you saw the return address, the sick feeling returned to your stomach.

There was about a two-hour drive to Rafe’s apartment from Starkville, and you had the option of opening the letter containing either the best news or the worst news of your life before the drive or at Rafe’s apartment. Part of you wanted to know then, but a stronger part of you wanted to be with Rafe so he could comfort you if necessary.

Instead of making a decision, you felt your tired brain could not, you called Rafe. He answered before the second ring and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I see that receptionist job taught you some useful skills.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Answering my calls fast, that’s good because my time is money.”

Rafe sighed, “Can I help you?”

“Someone’s mad. But, yes, should I open the letter from the vet school now or wait until I get to Oxford.”

You heard some shuffling around before he answered, “You think you can wait? I actually have something to tell you too.”

“Yeah, um, sure,” you were a little worried, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. We just need to talk.”

“Right, talk, are you sure everything’s good?”

“Yeah, stop worrying. Just drive on over.”

You had been excited to go visit, but after that phone call you wanted to go back to bed. With a deep sigh, you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and slumped backward. Blinking away the spots, you buckled up, pit in your stomach, and drove to your favorite coffee shop in Starkville. If shit was going to go down in Oxford you were going to have your comfort drink.

StrangeBrew’s drive-thru was packed and you tapped your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as you waited to order your blueberry cobbler cold brew with soy milk. Right as the barista handed you the to-go cup, your phone vibrated and Rafe had sent drive safe!! <3. The fuck did that mean in the context of your earlier phone conversation?!

The drive to Oxford was boring as hell. You’d made it before, a band you liked had played there one night, and you and some friends had made the reluctant trip to see them. Turning on your podcast, you focused on nothing but the drive, pushing aside relationship doubts and the growing anxiety about the letter sitting in your passenger seat.

You called Rafe when you got close, and he was waiting outside his building when you finally found a visitor’s spot. He jogged over to grab your overnight bag and bent down to give you a quick kiss, before greeting you with, “Hey, baby, how was the drive?”

“Boring as fuck, nothing new.”

“Went smoothly?”

“About as smooth as possible. I’ve had to pee for the last like 40 minutes though, so it’d be great if I could do that now.”

He laughed and turned to walk to his building, motioning for you to follow him. You did, scampering a little to keep up with his long strides, and he unlocked a door on the first floor, holding it open for you, “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”

Rafe was sitting on the couch when you made it back out to the living room, and you finally took a good look at him. His laptop was on the coffee table and he was wearing a pair of Ole Miss sweats, a worn-out t-shirt, and a pair of glasses you were unaware he needed.

“Take a picture,” he interrupted your train of thought and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up, Cameron. Now, tell me what you want to talk about so I can open my letter.”

“No, open your letter first and then we’ll talk.”

You weren’t sure why he was so insistent or why your heart rate tripled, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t the coffee. With shaking hands, you held up the letter from the MSU Vet School. All of your undergrad work came down to that letter, whether you’d have to take a gap year and try to find work to apply again or whether you could move forward in your career path.

Rafe watched on eagerly as you carefully tore it open and started reading. Eyes jumping across the page, unable to focus, you barely made out, Congratulations and We welcome you and We look forward to seeing you next fall.

With a gasp, you launched yourself at an unprepared Rafe and latched on, arms wrapped around his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly and asked, gently, “Good news?”

“I’m going to Vet School,” you whispered, voice cracking in the middle of your sentence.

“Fucking right you are, my little Rockstar.”

Your face heated up and you buried it in the crook of his neck, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Only to come crashing back down a few seconds later as you remembered Rafe wanted to talk. Pulling back slowly, you asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

His face lit up and he leaned forward, hanging on to you so he didn’t accidentally dump you onto the floor, and grabbed his laptop. Clicking to his email, he showed you the message he had pulled up from Mississippi State University Department of History Admissions.

“So, you know I’ve been interested in teaching,” he started, “and I’m debating whether I’d like to teach college or not.”

“Yeah, last we talked, you were leaning toward college professor, right?”

“Right. Well, I applied to a few schools that had a PhD program I was interested in, and I heard back from my top choice.”

Your mind was racing, still not connecting the dots, until he motioned at his laptop. Looking back down, you skimmed the email, telling him that he’d been accepted into MSU’s PhD in European History program and gasped, turning back to him in excitement, “No way?!”

“Way,” he told you, wide grin on his face.

Jaw dropped, your mind raced to put together a coherent thought, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The program is good, this isn’t a new thought, but MSU obviously jumped up my preference list to the top after we got together.”

“Fuckin whipped,” you teased and he tilted your chin down to kiss you.

Pulling away he brushed some of your hair back, “Only for you.”

As he leaned in again, you were the one to pull back, “Wait, we have to celebrate!”

Rafe groaned, “No, let me kiss you.”

“No! I want food, I spent the entire ride thinking I was going to get dumped when I got here.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“We need to talk,” you quoted, “that’s one scary fucking sentence, Cameron.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sweetheart, I just wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“Well you did.”

Rafe leaned in to kiss you again and pulled back to add, “You really think I’d make you drive all the way here, just to break up with you. I’m wounded you think that lowly of me.”

“You are an asshole.”

Rolling his eyes, he pinched your cheek gently, “Be nice to me, I’m sacrificing my dignity and lowering myself to Mississippi State’s standards.”

Blinking a few times in surprise at his sudden switch, you told him back, “Fuck off, I’m sure you were last choice as soon as they saw where you got your undergrad degree.”

Without saying anything else, he kissed you again, gripping behind your knees and shifting so your back was on the couch. As he lowered himself down on top of you, you decided that food could wait. You had your future to celebrate.

[mx-barnes]

Soulmate au Pt.8

Summary: When you turn 18 you get the name of a song on your wrist. That is the song you and your soulmate share. It is also how you can communicate with them.

Word Count: 822

Warnings: making out, I guess kinda commitment talk sorta, fluff, insecure Bucky. I think that’s it.

A/n: The quote at the end I found online it didn’t have a name attached to it if you know who/where it is from lmk. Sorry, this is so short and this is the end. Maybe I might make an epilogue.

Chapter 7 Masterlist

You had rushed out of his apartment so quickly his thoughts immediately went to you regretted every second of last night. How could that be possible you were made for each other?

Bucky didn’t trust much but he was quickly falling in love with you which scared him to no end. Dr.Raynor was going to have a hay day. The man she claimed didn’t have much of social life (besides Yori) was falling in love.

You were different he felt like he could open up to you about his past but he was also scared to hurt you. You were this beautiful person. Everything thing about you screamed beautiful. Your skin tone complimented your eyes perfectly. Your smile lit up a room which then would bring a small smile from him. You were kind, generous, smart, and funny. He knew this for the time he spent with you in the dream realm but now that he had you he never wanted to let go.

<~>

Work was stressful. Stark Industries always moved fast but today was just extra stressful. You wanted to be at home with Bucky. You and him and finally met and now you had to work. It was stupid.

After what felt like forever your shift had ended and you were able to back home. But you didn’t want to go home you want to head over to a Bucky’s apartment. You wanted to go over to his apartment and sit and watch an old cheesy movie with him. You wanted to sit and cuddle with him for as long as he’d let you. So that’s what you did.

You didn’t really mean to drive to Bucky’s apartment. Technically you did but not at the same time. You didn’t want to seem clingy but getting kidnapped and then almost dying has some effect on your attachment level.

<~>

Bucky had been sitting in his living room watching tv even he heard his doorbell ring. He walked up to it looked through the peephole that’s when he saw you. He immediately opened the door.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to come back after this morning.”

“No. Oh god no James I love you. I just had work and it’s at Stark Industries so you know they never stopped especially after Tony’s death. I am sorry can I stay here tonight. I totally get it if yo-“ you rambled

“I would love nothing more than you to stay the night,” Bucky affirmed.

“Really?” You question feeling flush all of the sudden.

“Yeah really.” Opening up his door more to you and instead of walking through it you tackle him, catching him off guard and making him fall flat onto the ground.

You lightly kiss him. He reciprocates but when you pull away he pulls you back in for another mind-blowing kiss. You two sort of roll so you are now on your back. Distantly you hear the door slam shut as Bucky starts grounding his hips into yours. You moan slightly allowing Bucky to slip his tongue into your mouth. Finally pulling back after what feels like hours to your lungs but in reality, was probably only a couple of minutes.

You wanted more you craved more than just a physical relationship with him. You had had physical relationships before and they never seemed to work out. You wanted this to work. “Bucky let’s go on a date.”

“What?”

“A date. I mean like you are me out to your favorite restaurant. While I dress up real pretty, you pick me up at seven o clock sharp. Maybe bring me flowers open the car door for me. We eat but I barely touch anything hoping not to embarrass myself. Then you drive me back to my house lead me up to the doorstep say ‘this was nice. I’ll call you.’ We part ways not before you leave without a kiss. Maybe I invite you inside for tea or something. All I know is I want a date. A single date with you. I want the stolen kisses I want the romance that authors wrote about in books. I want the movie romance I want to sweep off my feet like they did in the 30s. I just want you,” you ramble on.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I can’t just have another physical-wait yes. Just like that yes.”

“Just like that yes.”

You almost fainted. Maybe this would work maybe your heart wouldn’t be crushed by the man you had longed to meet. Maybe you had been able to love and not fear the worst.

What was that quote “In one lifetime you will love many times but one love will burn your soul forever.”

Bucky was that love and you know that. You could feel in your soul from the very beginning it was a long ride to get here but know you’re here and you couldn’t be happier.

Taglist:

@oceanmermaidwitch @navs-bhat

[arazialotis]

Long Distance

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: Around 1700

Summary: Dean and Y/N have been separated during the holidays due to a string of hunts but Dean has a thought to make the distance seem not so far apart.

Warnings: Language, General SPN spooky stuff

This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Nights came early this time of year, each day growing darker a little earlier. It was hard to fight off the fatigue that crept in every passing moment. Even harder so with Dean out of town on another string of hunts. You sat in the picture window curled up in a fuzzy blanket with a warm cup of tea and a new book. Though you had a corner lamp turned on, the Christmas lights outside bounced off the white snow, illuminating the world and keeping the dark at bay. 

Your phone had occasionally been buzzing as Dean updated you on his progress in a new town. You did what you could to not worry, to have faith, but each day he was gone you needed distractions to keep your mind off it. And of course, communication. The longer he went without an update, the more your stomach turned. 

Though you were entranced with the novel, methodically flipping pages and on the edge of your seat, as soon as the phone sounded, you threw the book down only focusing on him. 

You answered with a pant of excitement. “Hey babe.” 

Dean’s smile practically shined through the receiver. “Evenin’ Y/N. Man it's good to hear your voice.” 

“Yours too.” You echoed setting your tea down on the ledge as you started pacing the floor. “How’s the first day been?”

“Ah, you know, just getting settled and the feel for things. Wish I had your mind here to sort things out but this has been a long stretch, it’s starting to drag. It was good for you to stay home.” He paused waiting for a reply. “This’ll be the last one, promise.” 

“Don’t say that.” You chided knowing fully well he easily broke these promises. “You are doing good work. If you need to keep going, that’s alright. Just promise me you’ll come home eventually.” “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“And besides.” You sighed. “I’m still here virtually, put me together the case details tonight and I’ll scour over them.”

Dean’s blush heated up the air around you as he shamefully admitted. “I already sent them to Sam.” 

“Ugh! What? God Da…” Dean’s chuckle cut you off. You rubbed your brow reminding yourself it wasn’t a competition. “I want to help too.” You whined. 

“Okay, okay.” His voice faded. “I’m sending them now.” 

You looked at your phone waiting for the email to come through. A few moments passed and it eventually did. He had sent over a few news articles, pdfs, and a word doc of his own notes. 

“Hmmm… it’s definitely a werewolf.” You teased. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to get stumped by an oversized rabid poodle.” 

“I’ll shoot you some real ideas by tomorrow at the latest.”

 “Don’t feel rushed, I got some pretty good leads to follow up on tomorrow.” He assured. “Alright, enough work talk. What about you? How was Thanksgiving?” 

“I mean, it wasn’t the same without you and everyone else. But uh, I still tried to make the most of it. Brussels, beans, wild rice, potatoes…” You listed. “Mashed?” Dean interrupted. 

“Pfft. Of course. Cranberries. Oh, I did a cornish hen cause like, what the fuck am I going to do with a whole turkey? I already have enough leftovers to last me ‘til Christmas. Tell me you had something more than deli meat turkey.”

“Don’t worry about me babe.” He lightly chuckled. “Denny’s got me covered.” 

“Dean.” You scolded.

“Pie? Please tell me you had pie.” He begged. 

“No way I’m having pie without you.”  

“But.. But… Thanksgiving.” Dean pouted. 

You giggled at his adorable antics. “There’s one waiting in the freezer for when you get back.” “Yes! Cherry?” He pleaded. 

“Of course…” You giggled together until a knock sounded at the door. “Hey, hold on a sec.” 

“What is it?” Dean’s voice grew concerned. He heard the door open, a soft thank you, and the door closing before a bit of rustling. “Oh, nothing.” You fiddled with the box and the phone. “Just looks like a package for you.” Dean licked his lips with anticipation. “Why don’t you go ahead and open it for me?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you wanted to. “Really?” 

“I’m sure.” 

You grabbed a kitchen knife to hack away at the tape. Dean sat down on the motel bed anxiously waiting for you to find what was inside. 

“It’s um… it’s.” You pulled it out further inspecting it. “It’s a lamp?” 

Dean grinned ear to ear waiting for you to figure it out. “A long distance lamp? What?” “I found it online. You have one and I have one.” He explained. “I felt bad the last hunt with the bad reception. My lamp will light up when you touch it and vice versa.” 

“What?” You squealed. 

“Yeah. It’s an early Christmas gift.” Your heart melted.  “Go plug it in.” He ordered before you could respond. 

“Dean…” His thoughtfulness nearly brought you to tears. “Go!” He repeated before you got too sappy. 

After a few minutes of him guiding you through the set up, you were ready to test it out. “Okay, ready?” He asked, his hand hovering over the lamp on his end. 

“Yes.” You sat on the floor staring at the dark lamp. “Nothings happening.” You sighed. “Oh, wait!” It was dim at first but slowly turned into a green glow reminding you of his eyes. “Oh my gosh.”

“Your turn.” You pressed the top of yours sending him a warm purple glow. You could hear his smile over the phone. 

“See, now we can talk to each other even without the phones.” 

“Dean. This is… it’s… thank you.” Was all you could muster to say. “I’ll keep it by my bed so I can say good night and good morning.” “Me too sweetheart.” Dean agreed. “And in case anything happens to my phone or I get stuck in another dead area, you’ll know not to worry.”

The two of you spent another good hour talking; tentatively setting up holiday plans, explaining the unexpected twist in your book, and thrilling him with all the juicy details of exactly what you were going to do to him when he finally did make it home. You read a few more pages before finally calling it a night. Tucked into a bundle of blankets, you reached to your nightstand sending him a final thought of the night. A few moments later came the dim green glow. Though it was just a light, it made you feel as though he was there, his arms wrapped around you making your heart warm. 

When Dean awoke the next morning, the lamp next to him was already glowing purple. He smiled, typical that you would be the first to rise. After a yawn and deep stretch, he sent the thought back to you before going to freshen up and shower. The hot water and steam soothed his sore muscles and the tension he held in his shoulders if only for a brief minute. Towel wrapped around his waist and clean shaven, he came back out to get dressed in a suit for the day only to find the light had not faded. With another chuckle he assumed you must have been on the same schedule and sent another touch back before heading out for the day. 

From the morning, he was in a sprint; talking with the local police department, interviewing witnesses, consoling family members. Dutifully, he kept you updated on his progress hoping to hear back from you soon on any thoughts yet you were quiet. He wondered if he had mixed up your work schedule again. Having gone nonstop throughout the day, he opted for an early dinner back at the hotel room. 

Entering back to the room with his Chinese takeout, he immediately noticed the lamp was still on. He set down his food on the table and pulled out his phone. 

‘The lamp doesn’t need to fully replace the phones.’ He texted you, adding a little laughing emoji hoping you wouldn’t be offended by him calling out your silence today. 

He popped open his laptop and dug into the Mongolian beef hoping to review any ideas you had come up with. But you hadn’t emailed him like you said. It was still early enough in the day, and especially if you had worked, maybe hadn’t had time to get around to it. He pulled up Sam’s email instead, reviewing notes and potential leads. 

An hour had passed and the light still glowed purple. Thinking it must be broken, Dean meandered over to the plug resetting it. The only other explanation would be your hand on top of it consistently which didn’t make any sense. The lamp powered back up and momentarily was dark before the purple hue came through again. 

“This is weird.” Dean muttered to himself. 

He walked back over to the table and grabbed his phone and dialed your number. After two rings, it answered. 

Dean chuckled, thankful to finally have gotten you. “Either these things are malfunctioning or you must really miss me.” He heard a deep breath from the other side of the line. 

“Y/N?” His voice dropped. “Sweetheart, are you there?” A sinister voice crackled on the other end. “It’s been a long time Dean.” 

Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Panic and anger rose to his chest. It was a voice he could never forget. “Alastair.” 

“Now I was hoping to find you home when I stopped by but this pretty little lady said you were out on business.” Alastair's voice delightfully slithered. 

His jaw clenched. “If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I swear to God…” Dean spat. 

Amusement rose into laughter. “What makes you assume I could harm such a delicate creature. Her neck as easy to snap as a sparrow's."

“You better pray that's not what I find when I get back.” Dean threatened already furiously packing his bag. 

“Its not her I want, it’s you.” Alastair clarified. “But I guess that all depends on how long you take getting back home Dean. I might become bored.” 

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TAGS:

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78@blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21@carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider@adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67@monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants@onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18@jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love​

[headbandsandflats]

I don’t even know what to say.  Not that anyone was waiting for me to say anything, or that anything more needs to be said - I’ve seen others put this far more eloquently than I will - but I feel like I need to get some of these emotions out (even though writing it out and posting it makes it feel even more real and more awful).

My love for this book, this movie, this fandom has been unprecedented.  I’ve always loved fiction, always loved movies and books, always loved losing myself in them.  But the feelings this story brought out of me were like nothing before or since.  I finished the book on a Saturday night, a few days before seeing the movie for the first time.  It was winter, but until I stepped outside that evening - running to get an unnecessary coffee, just to shake myself out of my post-book haze - I could have sworn it was a summer’s night in the 80s.  (I know how maudlin that sounds, but I genuinely mean it.)  I was bereft upon finishing it.  I felt so deeply entwined with these characters, with their emotions, with their story.  I went to see the movie for the first time with one of my best friends a few days later and we were transported.  We walked out of the theater into a cold January night, onto a crowded subway car, and felt so deeply the loss of a summer in the beautiful Italian countryside that was never even ours.  I went on to see it six more times in theaters during it’s traditional run (twice with other people, four times on my own) - it became a kind of joke with those who knew me best, the way New York was eventually going to have stop showing it (after about SIX MONTHS), for my own good, since I was unable to resist.  But I’d never felt that way before.  There were movies that I’d loved, devoured, thought about after watching them.  But nothing had ever been a siren’s call like this.  I’d check the movie listings and when I saw that it was still playing, and knew I had the free time, it felt like I was unable to resist going back again and again.  It was the first movie I saw even close to this many times.  (And I’d see it on at least another three occasions, at special showings and Q&As.)  It was the first movie I ever went to by myself.  (Again, and again, and again.  And again.)  I can still remember the theaters, remember the showings (like the one in the village that I went to on my own at around midnight, not getting home until around 3 in the morning, still floating on that warm, Crema air), remember the anticipation in the pit of my stomach every time it started.  It’s like it put me under a spell, one that went unbroken for years.  I don’t know if I’ll ever know exactly what resonated so much.  Maybe it’s just that it filled up an emptiness that had started to develop in me by that time.  Maybe it was a glimpse into a world of emotions I hadn’t ever really known myself.  My copy of the book, signed by several and something I don’t dare look at at this moment, is highlighted throughout, something I hadn’t felt compelled to do in years, maybe since before I studied literature in college.  I read every review, watched every interview, tried to absorb every mention of or allusion to it anywhere.  It was too much and never enough and that never really went away.

With this deep obsession, came my first foray into real fandom.  I’d read fic for my favorite pairings since I first discovered it, as a way-too-young fan of Buffy in elementary school.  I’d joined tumblr during my Gossip Girl years to ogle over beautiful gifsets of beautiful people and gorgeous tributes to my favorite pairing.  But it wasn’t until this fandom that I ever actually interacted with people.  Took the chance when I saw a link to a Discord (something I’d never even heard of before) and became part of a community.  Interacted with people who wrote stories I loved and made gifs I looked at over and over, but also people who just became friends.  We got to know each other, and each other’s lives.  I’d never had something like this before - people who became friends over a shared obsession, this thing we were all nuts for, together - and it was intoxicating.  People who never got tired of talking about this movie and these people I never got tired of talking about?  It was like a dream.  Some of these people I chatted with online.  Some I met in real life.  (A huge, crazy first for me - I grew up in the time of internet stranger danger, after all.)  We talked endlessly about everything to do with this fandom over brunches and dinners and drinks.  We talked about other things too.  We laughed and cried and spent evenings at each other’s apartments and took loud car rides home together from the city.  I did things, and experienced moments, with them that I never would have without them.  It’s this, all of this, that I hope I’ll be able to remember fondly some day.  (And writing it all out, in this moment, is making me feel slightly lighter and brighter about it all, in this moment - which is unexpected, but lovely.)

This fandom has held some of my highest highs and lowest lows over the last couple of years.  I made friends (as an adult, with cool people - something I never could have predicted), I lost friends (something more expected, but still, a devastating blow, especially during a pandemic), reached something close to friendship with some of them again (an unsteady but nice surprise).  I had experiences I never would have imagined.  And I depended on it way too much over these last three years, as my own personal issues increased, something I was aware of, but not aware of the extent of until this last week or so.

I don’t know how to move past this in this moment.  I’m devastated.  I’m wrecked.  I’ve been stick to my stomach.  I haven’t slept.  I’ve overslept.  I’ve cried (not much, not enough probably, but even a few tears is a somewhat shocking amount for me).  My mental health is, quite simply, not what it used to be.  That’s a problem that is separate from this, that started before any of this came into my life.  But it’s tied to all of this in an uncomfortable way, and it’s making this emptiness, this sadness, this hopelessness feel unbearable.  And there’s a lot of shame thrown into all of this as well - shame for being so deep into and obsessed with a fandom, shame for being so deeply affected by something and some people who have no actual bearing on my real life (or shouldn’t, anyway).  Of anything I could have tried to predict, having this comfort movie/book/actor/fandom destroyed so ultimately was beyond my wildest nightmares.  I thought the spell might be broken on my end at some point, that eventually it wouldn’t mean as much to me, but now I’m afraid I’m doomed to feel too much, in every way, in terrible ways, forever.  I can only hope in this moment that I will move past this all one day.  That it won’t hang over me forever.  That I’ll, at the very least, be able to separate the good from the bad.  That some things will remain unforgettable, but in a good way again.

Thank you to everyone I ever interacted with in this fandom.  Thank you to the mutuals who brightened my day.  The friends who became such a part of my life.  The creators who filled up the good days and especially the bad days with their beautiful works.  I won’t be deleting at the moment, and anyone who sees this is always free to reach out and chat, as long as this blog is around (and via other social media of mine if you have it).  I’m heartbroken, and seeing tumblrs disappear, seeing all of the posts similar to this one - it all makes it so much more real and awful.  But there were good times and good things and good people.  And I hope with everything in me, that people can appreciate the goodness that came from this (and that I can one day too).

[1kook]

baecation

Jeon Jeongguk x (F) Reader

summary⥗“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart. tags⥗richboy!jk, -3 knowledge of how vacations work, domestic love!!!, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, fingering, jk’s white ass cheeks mention wc⥗5.9k u ever randomly get inspired for the first time in 2 months and write a whole fic in one night anyway enjoy

There were many perks to dating the heir of your city’s top conglomerate, the endless showering of gifts being one of them, but your favorite thing about your boyfriend wasn’t his overflowing pockets or his secure future, but the lovesick look in his eyes when you told him how much you loved him.

Jeongguk was an enigma.

He was born to be the stereotypical rich boy that authors of teen fiction could only dream of, his looks suitable for magazine covers and his brains destined for top-notch universities. His bloodline was carefully crafted by generations before him, every marriage carefully planned and executed with the ultimate goal to preserve their place in society as apex predators. In fact, Jeongguk’s entire life had been one big script his family had carefully pushed him along, from the fencing classes he took to the hiring of the nation’s best nannies to care for him, all subtle enough for him to not complain but demanding enough that he knew what was going on.

The only thing they hadn’t planned in Jeongguk’s life was him meeting you.

They had never planned for him to meet some middle-class girl, who was definitely not an heiress to any particular company or celebrity of any level, just some random girl he had accidentally bumped into leaving a charity event at the local community park. They hadn’t planned for his long, gangly arms to knock your phone out of your hand, or send it tumbling into the lake as you both watched on in horror. It was only after the quiet plop of water registered in both your ears that you had whirled on him, half of you in shock and the other in fury.

Jeongguk was, as previously stated, handed everything on a silver platter. His parents hardly bothered with teaching him how to do things. He barely understood how to work a washing machine, because all of that was done for him by other people. At the moment, he didn’t have to bother with taking an entrance exam to the best university this side of the country because he knew his parents would pay for the entire thing out of pocket. He especially didn’t ever have to worry about what to do when random girls scolded him in public sight, because frankly, it would never happen.

Yet here he was, completely startled as you told him to watch where he was going, and to learn how to apologize to people when you’ve done something wrong. He’d never had someone of a lower status than him treat him so aggressively before, and when you pause to catch your breath all he can stumble out is that he’ll replace your phone, he’ll even buy you the best model, what was your number so his people could reach out to you again?

The last sentence has you groaning in frustration, as you pointed furiously towards the lake, because how on earth was he supposed to contact you when your phone was 20 feet below surface level?!

After another fifteen minutes of you continuing your verbal rampage against him, the entirety of it which he’d spent fending off his security guard and his assistant (both who’d been appalled that he’d willingly let this peasant swear and curse at him) as he stared at you in awe.

When you finally calmed down and he’d offered to take you to the Starbucks across the street to figure out the details of your phone replacement, he’s surprised to find out your normal disposition is nothing like the one you’d first shown him. In fact, you’re rather sheepish and embarrassed at the coffee shop, albeit still a little upset with him for trashing your phone.

After you’ve finished nailing out the little details of your phone replacement, which included you hesitantly giving him your address, he leaves right away. He’s sad to leave so soon, having become completely enthralled with your entire being in the thirty minutes he’s come to know you, that he finds himself hopelessly staring out of the backseat of the Benz as he travels back to his upscale apartment in the heart of the city. He hopes you don’t forget him so soon.

To say you’re surprised to see a package on your doorstep the next morning is an understatement. You remember every online purchase you make, and if memory serves you right, you hadn’t made one in the past month to warrant its arrival today. After glancing down both ends of your hall, you tug the mystery package inside.

In hindsight you probably should have been more cautious of the entire situation, but part of you was extremely curious to see what brought this surprise on. After tugging the tape off and shuffling through the packing peanuts you’re met with a sleek box for the hottest and most expensive phone right now, a pink bow carefully tied around to secure a note.

One of our guard’s fished around the lake for the phone I misplaced and managed to retrieve the memory card. I hope you won’t mind the new contact I added.

Best,

Jeon Jeongguk

And thus was the start of your love story.

-

You’re wondering if Jeongguk’s sudden idea was truly a spur of the moment epiphany or another ploy for him to get out of going to the ball his father had planned at the end of this month. You’ve come to learn in the last two years that despite his perfect boy aura, he was quite the impulsive shithead. Eitherway, you know he would have invited you to wherever he was going, and if he hadn’t, his mother would have shipped you a gown from her favorite designer and asked you to drag him there.

As it stands, it’s not a fancy ball you’re preparing for this time around, but a luxurious spring break in the Bahamas, away from school and family and anything to ruin your mood for the next week. You’d just finished your midterms when he bursts into your dorm room, demanding you pack your bags, baby, we’re going to the beach! Evidently, it was not the local beach you were going to. No, the ‘beach’ Jeongguk had referred to was one he conveniently forgot to mention was an entire plane ride away. It wasn’t until he returned later that same day to usher you off to the airport that he realizes how sorely under packed you are.

So now here you were, frantically cramming a week’s worth of cute, summer-y clothes into the only suitcase you own, running back and forth from your closet to the suitcase to the desk where you kept all your beauty products and shower essentials, while your boyfriend ate one of your granola bars on your bed.

“You better not get any crumbs on the bed, you know I hate finding them later,” you scold, not even bothering to look at him as you stuff all your makeup into a small bag.

Jeongguk snorts. “You won’t even be sleeping here for a week, babe,” he says, voice calm and relaxed in the way only someone who’s already done packing can be. The only consolation to your current state was that Jeongguk had booked his family’s private jet, so you really couldn’t be late to a flight only the two of you would be on.

You turn around with a hand on your hip, giving him the same unimpressed look you always do when he’s being unreasonable. “I’m sure the mice you’re attracting will keep it warm for me.” He rolls his eyes, finishing off his snack and then making a big show of patting down your creaky mattress to rid it of any granola crumbs.

He’s settled back into the bed when he speaks again. “Take the orange crop top you bought from Forever 21 last month, it makes your boobs looks amazing.”

You tuck your socks and undergarments against the suitcase’s inner pocket. “Oh right, ‘cause that’s a priority right now.” You don’t wanna tell him it’s already folded against your other clothes because you, too, think it makes your boobs look amazing.

You hear the rustling of the bed sheets once more, before you see his long legs come to a rest around you, arms wrapping around your waist to watch you ruffle through the clothing you already have. “Not my fault my girl’s got a nice set on her.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you beg, reaching over to your pile of haphazardly thrown shorts and skirts to fold some more into your luggage. You’re careful of not moving far enough away that his arms would dislodge from their embrace. “We could have been halfway to the Bahamas right now if someone bothered to plan things ahead of time and not last minute as a means to get out of a charity ball.”

Jeongguk groans, letting his head fall forward to rest against your back, his soft breath leaving your back warm through your t-shirt. “Can’t a guy just steal his girlfriend away to the Bahamas for a week to avoid the overwhelming stress of life, and maybe choke on some exotic shrimp while she chokes on his di—”

“Get off of me, you pervert!”

The second you step foot on the archipelago that is the gem of the resort world, it’s about seven thousand degrees hotter than it was back home, and the sweat on the back of your neck can attest to that. The jet ride here had been pretty fun, it being your first experience flying private, but also flying in general. Jeongguk had kept you entertained both on the take off and landing, lips kissing down every inch of your neck with a promise for more later.

Well, it was later now, and the need to be sated was still present, something you’re not quite sure your boyfriend was aware of. Jeongguk was like that. Forgetful as fuck. The only reason he ever got anything done was because he had that assistant of his practically glued to his hip at every moment of the day, breathing down his neck every task he needed to complete. If it was up to Jeongguk, and Jeongguk alone, things would get done at a very slow pace.

But you were nothing like your boyfriend, and you suppose it’s why you two go together so well. While he put things to the side, you needed everything to be done right away and fast. Which is why you find yourself pulling him away from the scuba diving kiosk in an effort to check into your high-end cottage away from all the tourist hub.

“Babeee,” he whines, almost forgetting his luggage for the nth time, not used to actually having to haul his things by himself. “We could have seen the reef! You know, where all the fish are at? Where Nemo lives.”

“Uh huh, that’s nice,” you say, finding the driver Jeongguk’s assistant (bless his uptight, perfectionist ass) had booked for your arrival. “But we need to check in first and make sure our rental is all good.”

He seems miffed about the fact people actually have to do that, and had it not been his status as a trust-fund baby funding this entire trip, you would have liked to sock him right in the nose. But he’s your boyfriend and you’re used to his somewhat clueless ways by now, so you let it go.

You don’t know what you expected his assistant to rent out for you guys, but it certainly wasn’t the swanky beach house your driver pulls up to. It’s carefully secluded from the other houses around it, a high hedge-turned-fence surrounding the private yard. It hides a decent sized pool, a few lawn-chairs, and a hot tub from the public beach down below. The house itself is marvelous, complete with multiple bedrooms, two baths, and the most luxurious kitchen you’ve ever seen in a beach house.

“Oh,” you say upon stepping out of the car, mouth agape as you take in the sight of your accommodation for the next few days.

A pair of hands snake around your waist before carefully coming to rest above your navel. Jeongguk presses a gentle kiss to your temple, murmuring, “all for you, princess.” The waves crashing against the beach below are miniscule compared to the sudden blossoming of warmth in your chest.

“Shut up,” you shyly whine, turning around to envelope him in your arms. Your need for him and his body fades at the breathtaking sight behind you, and you find yourself forgetting about it completely as you venture around the house.

It’s the same day when you decide to go out into the yard and tan for a bit. Jeongguk had went in for a nap, a little tired from keeping you entertained on the long flight, because he’d stayed awake even when you fell asleep just in case you woke up scared. You don’t try to discourage him, watching him snuggle into the king mattress as you shuffle around for your bikini.

You’re absentmindedly applying another layer of sunscreen to your face, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head. You’re completely enveloped by thoughts of your boyfriend, of how he could have easily ran off to the Bahamas alone (he went to Moscow last November on a trip to ‘find himself’), but he’d elected to whisk you off with him.

You tuck your AirPods—another gift from him—into your ears before finally settling into the comfort of a lounge chair, the sun’s rays beating down on you full force. It feels wonderful being away from everything you know with the comfort of returning. You’d always dreamt of visiting such places as a teenager, the presence of a lover or not, but now you truly got to live out those fantasies with Jeongguk.

He was a dream.

It’s about thirty minutes into your session when you register the sound of the sliding door, and you crack one eye open to see your refreshed boyfriend wandering into the backyard in a pair of swimming trunks and a goofy look on his face. “Oh, pardon me, I didn’t know such women came to the public pool,” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, not that he sees through the shades protecting you. “Don’t you dare try to roleplay with me, weirdo.”

He cackles, before somersaulting into the pool, and you find yourself squealing at the splash he makes. He disappears for a second under the water, but then pops back up at the ledge closest to you. “Come on, don’t be a pussy. Play along and maybe we’ll go to the spa tomorrow morning,” he offers.

“Fine.” You decide to join him, but not because the spa.

Jeongguk laughs at your petulant tone of voice, before sprawling out to float across the surface of the pool. “Great, so here’s what I was thinking. Me, the rich middle-aged husband coming here strictly for business. And you, the shy darling relaxing by the pool with her girlfriends who are all pushing her to go talk to me.”

“Sounds perfect, except for the part where I’m actually the sly minx coming here to scam a rich college boy out of his money, luring him into the most pleasurable sex he’s ever had, before ghosting him for all eternity and leaving him forever waiting for someone like me to come into his life again,” you propose.

Jeongguk blinks. “Wow, that sounded so realistic. You’re either really good at this, or… I should be worried,” he playfully accuses, before throwing over a gesture that says im watching you. You laugh.

“Just keep swimming, rich boy.”

He does as you tell him, playing in the water as you tune back into the music drifting into your ears. You’re about done tanning the front side of your body, and flip over to make sure your backside catches the rays as well. You set your sunglasses off to the side, and when you look back for them they’re adorning Jeongguk’s silly face as he doggy paddles around the donut floaty he found.

“Untie your top, dumby. Unless you want those ugly tan lines,” Jeongguk calls out in that brash tone of his. You flip him the bird, before sitting up in a very Ariel-esque pose to glance around your private yard.

As if sensing your hesitation, Jeongguk paddles over to your side, leveling you with an unimpressed look. “These bushes are as tall as a door, and there’s no one around for the next half mile, babe. Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.”

He truly knew the way to your heart.

You untie the knots at your back and your neck, carefully laying back down to get that perfect tan Jeongguk was talking about. Admittedly, you do feel a bit better knowing you won’t return home with noticeable tan lines, and that much is enough to have your topless self blissfully relaxing.

Your soundtrack is the playlist you had collected on the plane ride, occasionally joined by the splashing Jeongguk makes as he moves around the pool, and before you know it, your timer is ringing to let you know it’s time to flip over again. This time, you’re less hesitant about shedding your top, breasts bare to the sky as you throw the top over your eyes (guess where your sunglasses still where).

You hear a wolf whistle from the other side of the yard, and catch sight of Jeongguk sitting at the edge of the pool. His skin is glistening from the water, the sun enveloping him in its warmth. He’d been outside for a shorter time than you but somehow he’d accumulated a darker color faster. The sun loved him like no other. He’s pushing himself to his feet when he catches your gaze, mischievous smirk twisting his features as he rounds the pool.

“Didn’t know this was a nude beach,” he says, and you curse your body for the way it reacts to the sight of his messy hair and tone abdomen. Your nipples harden embarrassingly and you can’t even hide them.

“Tired already?” You muse instead, hoping he doesn’t comment on the state of your breasts. “Tired after a plane ride, tired after swimming. Didn’t know I was dating an old man.”

“Har har,” he says in a monotone voice, and you can’t help the curl of a smile at beating him at his own playful ways. He stops in front of you, and your expression is knocked clean off when the water droplets clinging to his body fall onto your warm skin.

“Jeongguk!” You whine, pushing him away with your foot in a valiant effort to save yourself from the cold water. If anything, your actions end up bringing your demise as he catches your ankle in his hand.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tuts, bending your leg upward only to place his knee where it once was. He ducks down to tower over you, your continuous squealing only bringing an evil smile to his face. “What did we say about tan lines?”

You push him away, groaning in defeat as his hair drips even more water onto your skin. “I took the top off, what now?”

He glances down, and for a moment, you’re confused as to what he sees that you don’t. You're only met with the sight of your yellow bikini bottom preserving the last of your dignity.

You scoff. “You’re kidding.”

Much to your chagrin, he’s not.

“You’re on one of the nicest islands in the world, staying in a private home with fences tall enough to stop Bigfoot from looking in, and you’re gonna tan with your bikini bottoms on? You’re ridiculous.”

You shove his shoulder, before resigning yourself to getting soaked by him as he shuffles around to squish you under his weight. “You’re ridiculous for thinking I’d be outside without any clothes on!”

He snorts against your shoulder, long arms moving around until he has one somewhat curled beneath you. “Nah. You are.”

“Don’t start with me, Jeon.”

He shifts again to look you in the eye. “Come on, ___. You’re really gonna get tan lines when you could avoid them?”

You roll yours eyes. “You couldn’t get me to go outside completely naked for a million bucks, baby.” The beginning of a grin curls around his lips. “Don’t even think about it.”

This brings a laugh out of him, before he’s laying back down to kiss your neck. “You’re silly.” All you can really hope for now is that him laying on top of you won’t give you an even worse tan line.

Just when you think he’s given up on his quest to have you completely naked outside, you feel the slightest tug on the tie holding your bikini in place, slapping your hand down on his as if he were a pesky fly. “Fine!” He huffs, rolling off you to jump back into the water. “I hope everyone sees your uneven tan.”

“No one would see a tan line on my coochie, Jeon,” you remind him, flinching when he decides to cannonball into the water right beside you, sprinkling you in another round of water pellets.

He emerges from the clear water a moment later, paddling to the ledge beside you to flick more water your way. “I will,” he retorts. “When I got you bent over tomorrow morning.”

You don’t hesitate to fling your bikini top his way, the yellow fabric smacking him across the face. “In that case, you should take those shorts off, because I certainly don’t wanna have to look at your pasty thighs.”

“You love my milky thighs,” he hums, traversing the length of the pool for his donut floaty again.

“Milky?”

Your tiny quarrel ends there, Jeongguk soon becoming too immersed in competing against himself in a breath-holding contest to bother you any longer. He’s adorable like this, cheeks puffed out like Mrs. Puff every time his head pops out of the water, that you almost forget to flip over when your timer rings again.

It’s in the midst of your repositioning that you dare take a peak beneath your bottoms. Much to your disdain, there is a growing disparity between the skin beneath your swimsuit and the skin around it. Nothing too bad, but if you were to lay out as long as you planned, it’d become embarrassingly noticeable. Your breasts had been saved from any differences thanks to Jeongguk’s early warning, and you begin wondering if shedding your bottoms would inflate his already huge ego.

No matter, you discreetly unknot the ties securing your bottoms, hoping he won’t notice from across the yard as you carefully slip them off.

You make quick work of laying on your stomach again, your ass finally catching some rays after being covered for so long. You won’t lie, there’s an unexpected wave of comfort that comes with being bare outside, your entire body wonderfully enveloped by the sun’s beaming rays. You snuggle into the lounge chair’s cushions as you nearly reach nirvana.

Your blissful state is ruined not even ten minutes later when the sound of Jeongguk’s heavy splashing comes closer and closer. It’s not until you hear the splat of his wet feet against the pavement that you realize you’re in trouble.

There’s a playful smack against your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Jeon!” You whine, instantly sitting up on your forearms to narrow your eyes at him. He’s flashing you that playful grin of his as he plops down beside you, not even having to ask you to move over because you do so subconsciously

“Knew you’d give in eventually,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms as he tries to catch his breath. You decide to give up on your dreams of having a peaceful tanning session, turning around to face your glistening boyfriend.

“What do you want for lunch?” You ask instead, running a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, rolling your shoulders around to get some movement back into them. He shrugs, slithering his way up the cushions to squish himself beside you. It’s a tight fit, but he makes it easier by throwing your leg over his middle.

“Probably some good food in the little village a mile from here. Could probably walk there too.” You hum in agreement, snuggling into his side. You’ve long since gotten over the coldness of his skin, cheek pressed against his chest. He’s got a hand on your lower back, partially to hold you close but also to stop you from rolling off the chair.

Right as your snoozing off, so wonderfully warm beneath the sun and comfortable in your birthday suit, you feel a pair of fingers brush against the backside of your thigh, and then ghost over your exposed pussy.

“You’re despicable,” you murmur, tweaking his nipple between your fingers. Jeongguk snickers, shifting you around so you’re mostly on top of him now, your awakened core pressed against his thigh.

“C’mon, princess,” he goads, running a pair of moist fingers along your thigh again, trying to carefully coax you into doing what he wants. Most things, you now realize, tend to go Jeongguk’s way regardless of other factors. “No one’ll hear us out here.”

“But what if someone does,” you point out, always the voice of reason when it comes to Jeongguk’s ideas. “We could get in trouble, Guk. I don’t know…”

“In trouble for what?” Is his smart rebuttal, shuffling beneath you so you can finally feel the swollen cock hiding beneath his swimming trunks. “Enjoying ourselves in our own home? Oh, the terror.” Upon seeing the uncertainty that still clings to your features, he drops the somewhat cocky attitude to press a kiss to your nose. “It’s all good, princess,” he soothes, ducking down to caress the side of your face with his cherried lips. “If anything, I’ll just bribe our way out of any trouble.”

“Ugh,” you groan, melting into him as you finally give in. “I hate when you say that.”

Jeongguk snuffles a laugh against your jaw, maneuvering the two of you around until you’re laid flat against the cushion with him hovering over you. “When I say what?” He teases. “That my wallet is as fat as my cock?”

You roll your eyes, untying the knot he’d done at the front of his shorts. “Get that fat cock of yours out before I change my mind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he complies, setting one foot on the floor to push his shorts down, until you’re met with the sight of his stark thighs. You cackle, and his arrogant smirk is wiped off as he glances down at his two-toned legs.

“What happened to getting the perfect tan?” You sneer, tapping a finger against his muscled thighs. “Don’t tell me your ass is this white, too.”

He huffs in annoyance, before reclaiming his spot between your legs again, tugging you down until your cores are pressed together. “Shut up.” You do as he says, words catching in your throat at the feeling of his engorged cock brushing against your wet folds.

His slips a hand down to languidly toy with your folds, his fingers slightly pruny from all the time he spent in the water. It feels a little weird, but any complaints you may have had are wiped away when he nudges your bud with the tip of his pointer finger. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders at the sudden stimulation against your core. “Ohh,” you sigh, eyes rolling backwards.

“Feel good?” He checks, eyes trained on your expressions, lips unconsciously puckering to kiss you, even with your writhing beneath him. You let out a high-pitched mewl, much to your embarrassment, cheeks flushed warm from the sun and his ministrations. You nod belatedly.

He lets his wandering hands carry on, carefully travelling across the entirety of your folds. He knows your body like no other, so familiar with the dips and curves, that it’s impossible for him to not immediately locate your g-spot upon plunging his fingers inside you. “G-Guk!” you cry out, hands falling to grip at his biceps.

He presses a kiss to your throat. “That’s it, baby, lemme hear you,” he murmurs, and subtly presses his cock to the inside of your thigh. “Looked so delicious out here,” he sighs, and it’s as if he’s talking to himself. “Wanted to fuck your pretty little pussy from the second I stepped outside.”

Your back arches beneath him at a particular scissor of his fingers, another whine caught in your throat. “Want you so bad,” you whimper, reaching a hand up to tangle in his dark locks. You use the leverage to pull his lips towards yours, meeting in a frantic crash that has you whining against him even more.

His tongue slips past your lips, subduing yours when you try the same on him, and you almost choke on the excess saliva pooling in your mouth. Right before you can, he pulls back in favor of trapping your lower lip between his teeth. Your eyes flutter open, and you meet his own dark gaze.

“Ready?” He huffs, pulling his fingers out from within you. They’re shiny with your slick, almost as wet as they’d been when he was swimming earlier. You nod, dazed from all the pleasure he was giving you, that you can’t do more but spread your legs for him. He leans back on his knees, lining himself up with your hole.

You’d long since eliminated condoms from your relationship with Jeongguk, your trust in each other overwhelmingly so. Besides, you were still on the pill, and Plan B existed, so you never really worried about slipping up and accidentally getting yourself pregnant. Although there were times when he’d go overboard, stuffing you with his cum until you feel bloated, you’d never gotten pregnant before, so you wouldn’t begin to worry now.

Just the idea of feeling him in his entirety has you salivating, needy hands reaching out to grasp any part of him you can reach. Jeongguk snickers at your desperate ways, knotting his fingers with yours before pressing them to the cushion beneath you, the other gripping onto your thigh to keep your legs spread.

The second his tip pushes through the initial tightness, your mouth drops open, indecipherable noises escaping you. “J-Jeon,” you cry, chest heaving at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me, princess,” he huffs, just as out of it as you. Your body feels like it’s ascended, Jeongguk’s cock slowly pushing in further with each breath you take. It doesn’t take much longer for him to completely bottom out, the warm skin of his thighs pressing against you.

You’re like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as your body slowly assimilates to the feeling of being so absolutely full. It’s not until Jeongguk subtly shifts his weight onto his other leg that you give him the green light to start fucking you.

You moan, the first few thrusts hitting against every sweet spot inside you. “God, you’re so fucking big,” you heave, clenching around him just to feel the drag of his cock against your walls.

Jeongguk chuckles through his own pants, the fingers entwined with yours becoming impossibly tighter. “You’re too good for me,” he sighs, hauling your thigh further up his forearm until its resting in the crease of his elbow. The positioning allows his strokes to go deeper. You cry out, squirming beneath him with each thrust he gives.

“Oh fuck,” you cry wantonly when he plunges deeper into you, the water that decorated his skin long having been replaced by the sweat clinging to him. Your eyes flutter shut and you’re left only listening to the sounds of you, Jeongguk, and the ocean waves beneath you. “I love you,” you whimper.

Jeongguk grunts, ducking down to kiss you again, his hips not once slowing down. “Love you too, princess,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you,” he groans, puncuating his statement with a brutal thrust of his cock into you. “Gonna buy you that pretty Valentino bag when we get back, I promise,” he adds, picking up his pace.

You whine, “You don’t have to, Jeon, I—”

He cuts you off, “and that silver Audi you liked at the car show last winter,” he rambles on, seemingly clueless to your protest. “A-And maybe that Louis Vuttion coat that brings out the color in your eyes—”

“I saw the same one at H&M,” you interrupt, swiveling your hips upwards to meet his thrusts. He chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up and just let me spoil you,” he groans, and then seemingly forgets what else he was planning on buying you as he focuses his complete attention on helping you reach your orgasm.

With his focus solely on that, you find the burning feeling in your lower abdomen grow tenfold, voice becoming more annoying with each moan and whine you give. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his thrusts sending tingles up and down your spine. He peppers kisses down your chest, each touch leaving your skin scorching.

Time seems to slow when the coil in your stomach finally snaps, an embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips as your body spasms beneath him. “Oh, Jeongguk,” you sigh, falling limp on the lounge chair as he continues chasing his high.

He pulls out soon enough, giving his cock a few tugs before he’s spurting his come across your lower abdomen, leaning back to admire his masterpiece. He’s panting afterwards, and the backyard feels eerily quiet as you both just gaze at each other with goofy smiles on your faces.

The romantic aura is ruined when he feels the need to say, “hey, maybe now my ass won’t be so white.”

“Fuck, you look sexy,” he murmurs when the instructor finally turns around, leaving Jeongguk to gawk at your body in the tight wetsuit provided. “Gonna fuck you so good tonight.”

“Shut up,” you blush, trying to stop your eyes from violating your boyfriend’s disgustingly gorgeous body in the matching wetsuit he wears. “We’ll get kicked out of the group, Guk.”

He rolls his eyes. “I could have rented the whole place out for us, but someone thought scuba diving with the other corny tourists would be fun.”

You flick his forehead. “You don’t have to buy out every building we go to,” you remind him, memories of this morning’s completely empty breakfast bar flickering to attention. “Besides, I wouldn’t have let you fuck me tonight anyway.”

He scoffs at your claim. “Please, you would have begged me, ___.”

You hit him with the wide end of your swimming fin, then have to apologize to the instructor for your horseplay, much to Jeongguk’s amusement. You narrow your eyes at him, following the rest of the group out onto the boardwalk leading to the boat. “Find me a Nemo, and we’ll do it in the beach cabana.”

Jeongguk’s lips twists into the most devious smirk you’ve ever seen, and he smacks your ass as he runs ahead of you. You yelp, just as he turns to face you just as he nears the group. “Has anyone seen my son?”