#couldn’t find vegan food

[nextstopwonderland]

July 2010 from Bryan Danielson’s blog

Yeah, I’m gonna need photos from that “beach party, no water plenty of sand” in which they DANCE, stat.

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

i hate change i hate when people change plans and don’t express that to me clearly i hate when people say they are going to the grocery store and what you want so now you are really wanting some things for a specific meal and then they decide they aren’t going and don’t tell you but realize they have to go to grab something so they go to a smaller grocery store that doesn’t have the things you wanted for the meal you wanted so now nothing sounds good and you can’t eat anything on top of being upset about it 😭😖

[djarins-cyare]

Oh, Your Love Is Sunlight

Summary: Din takes you on a picnic date Rating: Teen Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader Word count: 2,106 Tags/warnings: Excessive fluff, feelings, food consumption (including meat and dairy; sorry to those who don’t partake, finding photos of vegan Star Wars food is hard!), fleeting thoughts about bunk-sharing, helmet removal, kissing, hand-holding, gift-giving Author’s note: Happy 1st Tumblr birthday, Moon Fairy Mina @evolnoomym! I made a moodboard for your first birthday party with the prompt “having a picnic date with Din”, and then I couldn’t stop myself from writing something to go with it. It ended up far fluffier than I usually aim for, though maybe I’ll write the smut that inevitably follows next year! Much love, darling 😘

Din instructs you to close your eyes until the loading ramp has fully descended, then guides you a few steps forward onto the sloped surface. The thrum of suspense rises in your gut like a hyperspace engine coming to life, only to be cut short when he has to dart back inside for forgotten supplies. With his grand reveal delayed, you’re left to interpret the world on which you’ve landed through your other senses.

You notice the air’s freshness first. After a whole week cooped up aboard the Crest, it hits your lungs like water on a parched throat, quenching your thirst for freedom. Warm sunlight caresses your skin while a soft breeze carries the heady perfume of grass and wildflowers. A low, static-like buzz mingles with a closer chorus of wildlife and birdsong, each sound weaving its own melody into the moment.

“Open your eyes,” Din commands at last, his smooth, modulated baritone adding a final note to this sensory symphony.

A gasp escapes your lips as you obey… the sight that unfolds is kriffing spectacular.

A verdant meadow stretches out before you, overlooking a sun-drenched valley beyond. The low background hum is the distant roar of waterfalls, where vast torrents of azure water plunge into a sparkling lake before winding through the valley to your right. Along the banks, large grazing creatures – shaaks, you think – lumber at their leisure. A tall, lush forest fringes the meadow to your left and behind the ship, its ancient canopy whispering secrets of a new world.

It’s breathtaking.

“Are we on Naboo?” Only that planet’s renowned vistas could rival this incredible display, but you can’t be there. It doesn’t match the heading you were on.

The Mandalorian shakes his helmet. “The biosphere is similar, but this world is in the Unknown Regions and, so far, it’s uninhabited. I discovered it by accident a couple years back. Once the Nav Guild drops a hyperspace marker out here, the New Republic will settle it fast, but it remains off the grid for now. What do you think?”

“It’s stunning, Din. Are we here for a bounty?” Your gaze drifts back to him – the only other thing in the galaxy that could rival the landscape’s splendour in your eyes. The sunlight glints in his armour as if he belongs among such beauty.

“No…” he replies, a trace of awkwardness in his tone as he gestures toward a basket by his side – the forgotten supplies. “I thought we could have… a picnic.” Before you can fully register your surprise, he adds in a soft, playful tone, “A… date?”

Astonishment renders you mute for several drawn-out moments, freezing you in rapturous inertia. Then, with a smile as radiant as the sun itself, you finally reply, “I’d love that.”

After months of pining for him, you’re not about to look a gift traladon in the mouth.

He spreads out a couple of blankets on the grass and begins unpacking the basket. As you watch him lay out enticing treats, it becomes clear why he’d insisted on making every meal for you both since his supply run at the last outpost yesterday. He’d filled the cooling chamber with surprises for this ‘date’.

When he extracts a chilled bottle of blue milk, a nostalgic lump forms in your throat. “You remembered!” you exclaim softly.

“Of course,” he responds warmly. “I drank it as a kid, too. We both have good memories attached to it.”

Din puts together a carefully crafted three-course meal. Hunks of bucco bread slathered with soft moof milk cheese and topped with slices of red fruit make for a simple but tasty starter. Next, he serves up a mouthwatering main course: cold cuts of nerf steak paired with vibrant purple topato mash and buckwheat noodles. Just when you think you’ve reached your limit, he unveils a plate of Parnassos swirl cake – squares of sweet, buttery, purple-swirled indulgence.

You eat back-to-back in the seamless rhythm you’ve become used to – his helmet near at hand, of course. After months of gaining his trust, removing it to eat together was a welcome victory, and you don’t take it for granted. Instead, you savour the resonance of his unfiltered voice as you each describe your favourite things in the galaxy (besides this delicious food and epic view).

You can’t find the words to confess that he’s one of your favourite things.

After the meal, you lay back on the blanket, digesting both the sumptuous food and the surreal notion that this is a genuine date.

It’s been nearly a year since Din first took you aboard, and almost six months since Grogu left for his Jedi training. In the wake of their parting, you brought the grieving Mandalorian to your homeworld and looked after him while he brooded. With his ship destroyed, he seemed grateful to have a ‘home base’ of sorts when he started taking bounty missions to finance a replacement Razor Crest. There was never any doubt that you would fly away with him again once Peli found him a new ship.

You’ve always been close, but it’s never been anything more than mutual respect and a deep friendship – or so you believed. Perhaps you aren’t the only one who’s spent your nights wishing you could crawl into your shipmate’s bunk. The idea of two warm bodies pressed together softens the chill of deep space and makes the galaxy seem that little bit less lonely.

A rustling beside you interrupts your reverie. Curious, you prop yourself on your elbows to find Din unbuckling his belt and lifting off his bandolier, his cloak already a charcoal pool behind him. As he begins to unfasten his cuirass, you comment, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take your armour off outside the ship before.”

“Who’s gonna see?” he drawls, his tone laced with a secret smile. “Even the shaaks are too far away now to catch a glimpse.”

Despite his relaxed demeanour, you notice how he extracts his blaster from its holster, resting it within easy reach at the blanket’s edge. The beskar may come off, but the warrior remains.

Once he’s down to his flight suit, he rolls up the sleeves and unzips the front, revealing his dark undershirt. This is virtually naked for Din.

You offer an approving smile. “Way to relax, bounty hunter – I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Good,” he rasps, those two husky syllables igniting a surge of desire within you.

Then, once again, he catches you off guard. Reaching up, he does the unthinkable. He removes his helmet.

“Din!” you exclaim, clamping your eyes shut and laying back on the blanket to direct your now unseeing eyes at the sky instead of his uncovered face. You press a hand across them for good measure. “A little warning, maybe?”

“You already saw my face when Grogu left,” he reasons, though his words only deepen your confusion.

“Yeah, but then you put your helmet back on and haven’t taken it off since,” you counter. As you protest, you feel him lift your hand away from your eyes, but you keep them firmly closed. “What— why— your creed, Din!”

“It’s already broken; the transgression has been committed. I’ve just been… hiding behind my helmet ever since. But you’ve already seen me, and nothing will change if you see me again now.” Still holding the hand he just peeled off your face, his voice grows warm and resolute as he implores, “Look at me, cyar’ika. Please.”

It feels surreal – perhaps you’re dreaming or teetering on the edge of sanity – but you can’t deny him what he so earnestly requests.

Slowly, you relax your eyelids and blink them open, expecting to see your stoic Mandalorian. Instead, you encounter a nervous, messy-haired, forty-something knockout, propped up on his elbow and hovering over you. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember, except his eyes are no longer shadowed by sadness; now, they sparkle with an unspoken promise.

For several long, heavenly moments, you simply gaze at one another, absorbing this rare, unrestricted view – the second mind-blowing sight of the day. The fluffy clouds drift onwards overhead, the waterfalls cascade endlessly into the churning lake, and the blazing sun edges ever closer to the horizon. This beautiful world spins on, yet you see only each other.

Before long, you notice Din’s focus keeps drifting lower, and when you wet your lips, he audibly inhales. You watch him wet his own in kind before his eyes dart back to yours beneath a questioning eyebrow.

A soft smile, an encouraging nod – that’s all it takes. And suddenly, he’s kissing you. It’s tentative and shy – he moves with a gentle hesitance that makes you reach up and cup his cheek, urging him to let go. He breaks off to draw a steadying breath… once, twice. Then his lips return to yours with greater passion – eagerness filling in for his obvious inexperience.

You soon find a reciprocal rhythm, slowly deepening the kiss until every touch of his tongue against yours sends sparks crackling through your body. With low hums, you encourage what you like, and his impressive ability to observe and learn soon elevates him to the best kisser you’ve ever known.

When he finally pulls away, he remains close, hovering above you with kiss-swollen lips. “So, how am I doing?” he asks.

“How are you doing?” you echo, unsure what he means.

“The date,” he clarifies softly. “Mandalorian dating mostly involves sparring; this kind of thing is… new to me. Is it what you hoped for?”

Flustered by his assumption that you’d hoped for any kind of date, you stammer, “Y-yeah… it’s wonderful. You’re doing… kriffing amazing.”

Relief washes over his features, and you marvel at seeing it on his face as well as in his body language.

“Cara suggested the picnic, but I planned the details myself,” he confesses, explaining how he knew you wanted this.

Nevarro’s marshal has been your confidante for months, though she swore she’d never tell Din of your feelings for him, conceding it could only complicate your friendship.

“So… she told you? About… me liking you… like this?” you ask, put out by her broken promise.

He smiles at your euphemism. “Only after I told her that I like you… like this. Then she threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t act on it.”

You snicker as you realise you’ve both been as foolish as one another, instantly forgiving Cara’s breach of trust in pursuit of your happiness.

Looking into his sparkling brown eyes, you shake your head and whisper, “This is crazy. I never imagined you’d feel the same way – that what I’ve been feeling all this time could ever be mutual.”

Din closes the distance once more, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before murmuring, “Oh, ner mesh’la dinii, it’s mutual, trust me.” You pull him back in for a deeper kiss, slowly and blissfully making out as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

When it’s time to leave, Din carries his armour back to the Crest while you pack away the picnic things. You watch your gorgeous, messy-haired man return to your picnic spot against a blazing sky, the lake beneath reflecting amber flames.

As you take a final, lingering look at the vista below, he steps up behind you, pressing in close. His arms encircle you, drawing you back against his unarmoured chest, and he whispers, “I have something for you.”

Before you can speak, he raises his hand and uncurls his fingers. And there, nestled in his palm, a silver mudhorn pendant sparkles in the vestiges of sunlight. Your breath catches as you recognise his clan symbol – a silent declaration that you are his family.

Swallowing tears that dare to betray your emotion, you can offer only a breathy whisper in response. “Stars, it’s… I— thank you so much.”

You long to voice the thousand other words that churn within – that you consider him family too, that you’re in love with him, that you’d happily spend the rest of your life with him. Yet you hold them all back. Words have never been your way, nor Din’s.

Gestures are your language.

Once he’s lowered the mudhorn around your neck, you turn to face him, drawing him close and resting your foreheads together in a wordless Mandalorian kiss.

When you part, your hands entwine as you saunter back to the ship, savouring the setting sun’s enduring glow. You came here as friends, but you leave as something more. And with this planet’s sun-drenched beauty etched in your memories, even the darkest corners of the galaxy don’t seem so lonely anymore.

Translations:

cyar’ika [SHAH-ree-kah] – sweetheart/darling

ner mesh’la dinii [ner MESH-lah DEE-nee] – my beautiful lunatic

Just a few notes in case anyone’s interested:

Yeah, the title is a Hozier lyric. Unoriginal, I know, but I couldn’t come up with anything decent!

The first photo in the moodboard is actually Naboo; it’s from Episode II: Attack of the Clones when Anakin and Padme have their picnic up in the Lake Country (I just cropped them out), so technically, it’s Lake Como in Italy.

Definitions: Shaaks are grazing animals, mostly raised as livestock because of their massive bodies, and are the SWU’s equivalent of sheep. The Unknown Regions is an area of the galaxy that isn’t mapped. The Nav Guild is responsible for mapping the galaxy. Hyperspace markers (also called navigation buoys) mark coordinates to keep ships on course, and all planets and astronomical objects have one. A traladon is a Corellian animal, but they use “gift traladon” across the galaxy in the same expression we use on Earth (“don’t look a gift horse in the mouth”), meaning one shouldn’t question a gift. A cooling chamber is a refrigerator. Blue milk is the SWU’s ubiquitous version of cow’s milk and comes from banthas. Bucco bread is a type of golden loaf made from grain farmed on planets in the Outer Rim. Soft moof milk cheese is the equivalent of ricotta cheese and comes from the milk of moofs (SWU goats). Red Fruit is the in-universe name for tomatoes. Nerfs are another type of cattle, rather like buffalo. Topato is the Star Wars word for potato, and though they’re usually green, we have purple potatoes on Earth, so I figured they’d have purple topatoes in the SWU. Buckwheat noodles are usually from Corellia, but I assume they can be made anywhere. Parnassos swirl cake looks and sounds fucking delicious.

Screw canon and that stupid midlife-crisis N1 starfighter – I prefer to imagine that Peli got Din a new Razor Crest like he asked for.

A note on the images in the moodboard: I want to reassure everyone that I don’t use AI when creating images for my fics; I use an ancient and outdated program called Adobe Photoshop CS4, which was released 17 years ago (well before AI even existed). I do my best to manually extract, layer and blend elements from different images, then tweak them until I’ve created the image I want. It takes forever, but my blood, sweat and tears go into the process, and I take pride in doing it myself. Once I have the images, I use Canva for moodboard layouts.

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[elizabeth-holland24]

Racing Hearts - Chapter 2

< previous chapter -- next chapter >

She’d meant to run a quick errand—just in and out for some last-minute ingredients for Daisy’s dinner. Instead, she stood in the middle of a small London grocery, mentally replaying every second of the red carpet from the night before. The noise of cameras. The heat of the lights. The flash of Brisket’s tail as he ran toward her.

And then—him.

Glen. His smile had been sharper than any lens, his voice warmer than any spotlight. She still couldn’t believe how the world had quieted the moment he said, “I think you’ve stolen my dog.” That was Monday night. Now, it was Tuesday. Her last day in London before flying out to Hungary for the next Grand Prix. Her suitcase was half-packed, her mind even less so.

She picked out fresh cilantro, chiles, and mezcal—her signature addition for a special dessert. Daisy had invited friends over for a laid-back dinner, a goodbye before she left. And since Daisy’s idea of “cooking” included vegan microwave meals and wine that came in a box, she had offered to handle the food.

As she loaded her basket, her phone buzzed.

🔥 — Glen Powell

She blinked. Her heart skipped.

He had reacted to her Instagram story—her dancing in Daisy’s kitchen, flour on her cheek, mouthing along to End Game while baking. She had posted it an hour ago, thinking nothing of it. A moment of silliness before the evening rush.

But he’d seen it. And responded. Not with words—but with fire.

She tucked her phone away before she could spiral. It was probably nothing. Just a friendly little emoji.

Still, she smiled the entire walk home.

Back at Daisy’s flat, she got to work. Music blasted through the speakers as she cooked—enchiladas verdes, arroz con elote, and her mezcal chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter. Daisy leaned in from the hallway, still applying mascara.

“You look suspiciously domestic,” she teased.

“Don’t worry. It’s all for Brisket.”

“Sure,” Daisy smirked. “You’re telling me Glen Powell’s dog just happened to find you on the carpet, and now you’re baking?”

“He’s not coming,” she said quickly. “He probably doesn’t even remember.”

But she kind of hoped he would. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. The knock on the door came just as she was plating the last of the enchiladas. Daisy opened it, and there he was—holding Brisket’s leash in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“I brought the most important guest,” he said, stepping inside. “And also this wine, which I’m told doesn’t go with enchiladas. But I’m here for dessert.”

She stared, heart hammering. “You came.”

“Well, Brisket demanded it,” he said, unhooking the leash. The dog sprinted toward her like she was his favorite person in the world. She crouched down, laughing, letting him jump up.

“You again,” she said, scratching behind his ears.

Glen was watching her with a half-smile, like he was still a little surprised she was real. He looked different now—casual in a navy sweater and jeans, no cameras, no crowd. Just a guy. And yet somehow, even more disarming. As the rest of the guests trickled in—Daisy’s musician friends, a couple of actors, Anthony Ramos—Glen stayed near her, helping plate food, refilling water, handing out napkins. The dinner was chaotic and warm, everyone squeezed on cushions and mismatched chairs around a low table. Between bites of spicy rice and second helpings of cookies, the room buzzed with stories, laughter, the occasional off-key harmony.

At one point, Anthony leaned in, eyes glinting. “Entonces, cuando es la boda? Ya firmaste los papeles de adopción?” (So, when's the wedding? Have you signed the adoption papers?)

She coughed, mid-sip. “Que? No. esta loco, apenas y nos conocemos.” (What? No. Are you crazy we barley know each other)

“Sure,” Daisy added, winking. “But I’m pretty sure there was eye contact that could cause a blackout.”

She shook her head, cheeks burning. “We were just...talking.”

Across the room, Glen caught her glance and raised his glass. She raised hers back.

Just talking.

After dinner, most guests lounged around with drinks, trading playlists and half-tipsy confessions. Glen helped her stack plates in the kitchen. They moved in sync—passing dishes, wiping counters, brushing elbows.

“You sure this isn’t too much before your travel day?” he asked.

“I needed a distraction,” she said honestly. “Racing is constant motion. This...” She looked around the dim kitchen, candle flickering near the sink. “This feels like breathing.”

He nodded. “So where are you off to first?”

“Straight to Germany for a sim session. Then back to the US for college, before the real chaos starts. I won’t really be back in London until they need me or something comes up.”

He looked impressed. “That’s intense.”

“It’s everything,” she admitted, leaning against the counter. “Fast. Loud. Adrenaline on tap. But also—it’s the only time my brain shuts off. When I’m driving, I don’t think. I just feel.”

Glen rested his hands on the counter beside her, close enough to touch. “That’s how I feel when I write.”

“You write?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded. “Not scripts. Not yet. But stories. Scenes I never show anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe I’m scared they won’t live up to the version in my head.”

She studied him. The quiet vulnerability beneath the charm. “You’d be surprised how much of yourself shows up anyway. Whether you mean to or not.”

He looked at her, then. Really looked. “Is that what happened yesterday?”

She froze, caught off guard.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about it,” he said softly.

The kitchen fell silent. Neither of them moved.

“I can’t either,” she admitted.

His smile deepened. “That makes me feel slightly less insane.”

She laughed, quietly. “Only slightly?”

“I mean, I barely know you,” he said. “But it doesn’t feel that way.”

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t.”

He glanced at her lips, then back to her eyes. His hand inched closer on the counter. She didn’t move away.

But the door creaked open as Daisy popped in, wine glass in hand. “Cookies are disappearing. If you want one, this is your last shot.”

They stepped apart, flustered.

“On my way,” she said quickly.

The night wore down in soft tones. Friends hugged their goodbyes, laughter trailed out into the hallway, and finally, it was just her, Daisy, and Glen. She stood by the window with a glass of water, watching lights blur in the distance. Her packed suitcase leaned by the door. Media calls. Branding. Sim time. College classes. It all began again tomorrow.

But tonight—tonight had been still.

Glen approached quietly, standing beside her at the window. Brisket curled up by the couch.

“Thanks for letting me crash,” he said. “Brisket thinks you’re his soulmate.”

She laughed softly. “I might be.”

Glen looked at her again, serious now.

“I know you’re leaving,” he said, voice low. “And I’m not asking for anything. But I just—”

She turned to face him.

“I just want you to know,” he said, “this wasn’t, nothing. Not to me.”

She swallowed. “Not to me either.”

There was a long pause. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pen.

“Here,” he said, gently taking her hand. He scribbled something on the inside of her wrist. A phone number.

“If I text you,” he said, “will you answer?”

She looked down at the number. Memorized it instantly. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’ll send me Brisket pics.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

They stood there a moment longer, hands still lightly brushing. Not quite holding on. But not letting go, either. And later, long after he left, she curled into the couch, cookies wrapped for the plane, and the number still inked faintly on her wrist.

Her heart still racing. Not from driving this time. But from something just as dangerous.

A/N: So what do you guys think? are they going too fast? Or is everything just part of my masterplan?

[t1ts-4-donaldson]

You're in the wind I'm in the water

Artrick Chemtrails over the Country Club

NSFW

@diyasgarden based on a conversation Diya and I had about rich boy Patrick decided to add Art into the mix.

Reminiscing about summer with your two golden boys

Under the chemtrails over the country club Wearin' our jewels in the swimming pool

Art told you to be careful, take the ring off before you jump in, of course Patrick knew you wouldn't listen It was custom made and very expensive encrusted with diamonds with their initials A+P the closest thing to a wedding band they could buy, the perfect indicator you were theirs

They both felt bad the minute you popped back up to the surface noting it was gone, it took a minute until you noticed the missing weight on your finger eyes pathetically flitting back and forth trying to find the missing object. Patrick squats matching your tiny frown lamenting your pout and teary eyes. "I'll buy you another one don't worry" he hums pinching your cheek a giggle bubbling up from your chest making him feel whole again

He stands strides back to Art’s side both watching you swim back and forth

"You spoil her too much, she's on the road to being a brat" Art smiles no malice behind his words "she's our brat besides you'd buy her a new ring too, bracelet to match" Patrick lights his cigar pocketing his lighter, Art nods and admits "I'd give her anything she wanted" taking a sip of his whiskey

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter Watching the chemtrails over the country club

laid between both boys the 3 of you clad naked lost your underwear to Patrick ripping them off your hips hours ago

"they don't hate you" you lie hoping he doesn't notice it behind your attempted reassurance Patrick's grip on you tightens picking up on it but makes no effort to argue instead taking your hand pressing soft kisses against your knuckles rolling onto his side.

"Besides you have Art and I.." you cup his cheek nuzzling your nose against his. Art turns over and squeezes your waist a silent thank you for being so nurturing.

Art nudges his face into the dip of your shoulder, the warm smell of jasmine in your shampoo invading his senses "love you" Patrick pecks your face between each word. Art discreetly kisses your skin, a solidified good job.

Suburbia, The Brentwood Market What to do next? Maybe we'll love it

"Well it’s between horseback riding or tennis today” Art reads through the schedule sent over by his grandmother along with a batch of chocolate covered strawberries she makes I love you written in cursive over the plastic lid

“Never rode horses before and I’m terrible at tennis, you both always want me to play just to make fun of me” you bristle

“we never do that” Patrick fibs arm coiling around your waist twisting a lock of your hair between his fingers slotting it in his mouth saliva wetting the piece

“Gross Pat” you tsk recoiling away

“Fuck, aren’t you tired?” You ask, bumping your elbow against his belly, "lazy not tired" Patrick yawns his palm drifting closer towards your breast around you, laying his chin over your shoulder. “Cut it out” Art swats his hand away not the time to be a whore

“what's that vegan place you wanted to go to again?" Art questions. Patrick cringes at the thought of ‘fake’ deserts just shitty replacements Art miserably scarfs down 

“lets treat our girl properly, she deserves authentic diabetic inducing sweets man"

you note his solemn gaze and furrowed brows remembering his habits around food, it was distressing to witness something he couldn’t grow out visibly watching his brain spiral about the festering calories in one of his favorite tiramisu cakes or the root beer float he always has a hard time saying not to, hating the extra chub he wants to get rid of that you love

“it's ok baby, lets go to froyo instead then tiffany's we can get matching pendants" 

Late night TV, I want you on me Like when we were kids under chemtrails and country club

Art's jaw's slack, babbling incoherent praises "take us so well" sounds of skin slapping fills the air

he's flushed red beneath you panting in your ear on the verge of sobbing love filled tears stroking himself in and out of your cunt while Patrick's lays above you his weight heavy pumping his dick with his fist grazing it between your cheeks cock head threatening to enter your ass while planting soft kisses along the back of your neck nibbling your skin

"close- I'm so close" they both can tell the muscles of your core tightening around Art's cock your body tensing beneath Patrick as you close in on your orgasm a chord finally snaps tension leaving your body as you cum collapsing against Arts chest both boys fall apart quickly after you

a few moments pass Patricks slips right next to Art's side head nestled into his neck while Art stills inside of you legs locking your hips trapping his release from dripping out of you

“Do you think life is going to be like this forever?”

“we’ll make sure it is” Patrick sighs drowsily pecking your cheek

[beargray08]

You gonna be quiet baby?

—————————————————————————

Summery: Billie takes you out to get burrito but she gets carried away and things escalate very quickly and you have to stay quiet.

Warnings: Smut, Dom billie, Sub reader, fingering (r! Receiving), public, 18+ MDNI, LMK if I missed anything :)

—————————————————————————

“Can I get two vegan burritos, please?” You watched as your girlfriend ordered your lunch and made her way back over to the table. She smiled at you in a way you knew all too well. “What?” You asked as she sat down across from you. She shrugged, still with that damn smile plastered across her face. You rolled your eyes and laughed just as a middle-aged Greek man brought over your food. You both thanked him. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” Billie hadn’t taken her eyes off you since she’d sat back down. Though you had just taken a huge bite out of a messy burrito, she still complemented you. You blushed, trying to chew and swallow your food fast enough to say thank you and ask where that came from. Before you could get your words out, she continued,

“Honestly, if I could have you right here, right now, I would.” Her eyes were hooded, she was smiling hard as your face went the brightest shade of red. “Billie!” You looked around the room to make sure no one heard. Billie kept her eyes on you as her foot kicked yours a little; was she really trying to play ‘footsies’ with you right now? Eventually, she stood up and moved around the table, sitting on the seat next to you. You lowered your eyebrows, trying to figure out her game here, but her expression wasn’t giving you any hints. You finally figured it out when her hand ghosted over your inner thigh. You almost choked on your food. You turned to look at her, but she didn’t flinch. Her hand finally met your thigh and moved higher and higher, ever so slowly. “You gonna be quiet, baby?” Her words almost sent you over the edge; was she really going to finger you in a fast-food restaurant? In public?! You nodded slowly, not daring to make eye contact with anyone, especially your girlfriend whose hand was undoing the button and zip on your jeans under the table. As her hand slipped under your pants and underwear, you saw the corner of her lip lift up to a smirk, she whispered, “so wet? I haven’t even touched you yet.” You didn’t respond, just hid your moan in a deep breath. Billie didn’t make it easy for you not to react as she ran her finger through your slick folds. Your breath was shaking as you squeezed your thighs together trying to subconsciously beg for mercy. Billie shook her head as she used her other hand to start eating her burrito. “Open.” She commanded, you did as you were told and without hesitation you felt her fingers finally enter you. You gripped onto the table trying to find any bit of composure. Billie smiled to her self pumping her fingers faster and deeper. “God you’re so cute, you wanna moan baby?” She whispered in your ear, making you weak. You looked down at the table seeing your knuckles turning white as your grip tightened. Billie looked at you, “I asked a question mama.” Her voice was quiet but demanding. You knew you had to answer but you weren’t sure if you could open your mouth without screaming her name, “Y- yes.” You managed. You felt billies gaze leave you and her grin creep back onto her face, “yes what? Yes you wanna moan for me?” Your hips bucked forwards wanting more and Billie accepted the request adding another finger. “Y- yes I wanna- fuck… I wanna moan.”

Your voice was barely a whisper but Billie heard you. She hummed, keeping a fast rhythm as she moved her fingers inside you. “Poor baby.” You groaned. As you were about to reply the middle-aged Greek man came back over and asked if you guys were finished. You couldn’t make eye contact. What if Billie wanted you to answer him? You couldn’t hold back your moans for much longer. “I’m finished thank you, she’ll be finished any minute now I’m sure, You’ll be finished any seconded now won’t you baby?” You could practically hear Billie smile as she said that. All you managed was a slight nod. Luckily the Greek man took that as queue to come back in a little bit to take your plates. Billie doubled her effort wanting to make you cum in public. “Come on mama, cum for me.” You bit back you moans as you tipped over the edge, you head fell forward and your body shook but you stayed quite just like Billie had told you too.

She slowly took her hand out of your pants and smiled to herself, “Well done sweetheart.” You tried to catch your breath as you looked at her. You couldn’t be mad when she made you feel so fucking good. She finally turned to you with that god damn grin. “You’re even more beautiful when you cum for me.” She laughed to herself self and you couldn’t help but join her. You both finished your food and stood up to leave. Just as you were about to walk out the door, the Greek man stopped you and said quietly, “I’m sorry, it’s just… your erm… jeans are undone?” Your face beamed red as you turned to Billie who was bent over laughing. Of course she was.

[stuckonmark]

accidents. mark lee

18. i’m vegan

three knocks at your door. that’s all it took for you to jump in your bed. after everything that happened at the last game, you haven’t been your usual self. you had asked winter for some space and karina offered for winter to stay with her for the time being. you’re really grateful for your friends. they always understood you and always supported you. you just wish you were able to open up more to them when things like this happen, but you just always find yourself falling back into your shell whenever something like this happens.

it took a lot of energy for you to get out of bed. honestly, you were kind of scared. you didn’t know what to expect. “hey yn.” looking down at you was a heavily breathing mark, who was holding so many grocery bags that you couldn’t see his hands anymore. your heart stopped for a second, not expecting to see him. “a little help?”

quickly shuffling to him, you try your best to grab the bags and your hand slightly grazed his. you and mark bring the groceries onto your table and you both take a seat. “so how’s everything going?” you hesitantly looked up at mark, not sure how you wanted to answer him. honestly, you didn’t even want to see him. you hated to admit it, but he was the reason you weren’t focusing on your life.

“i’m good.” the dry response is deafening. you felt bad, but you felt even worse having mark in your presence.

mark slowly nodded his head, as he awkwardly cleared his throat. “jaehyun’s worried about you. you’ve been ignoring his texts.” you were trying to think of the best way to answer mark without giving him too much or too little. “i guess tell him to not worry. i’m doing good. just need my space from everyone.”

he softly sighed, looking defeated. you thought the conversation would die out and that he would get up and leave until he looks straight into your eyes. “you have people that care about you yn. we just want to help. you’re allowed to lean on people. i care about you yn.” you weren’t sure, but mark looked like he was yearning for you. you just didn’t know if it was an act or not.

“mark. i don’t need your help. for all i know, you’re the one who’s making me lose focus. i need to lock in right now. i can’t be goofing off anymore. i have actual things in my life that matter.” you hated how harsh you came off, but mark hugging mina definitely hurt you more than a few words could hurt him.

mark began to open his mouth, but slowly closed it and looked down. “i think it’s time for you to go. thanks for the food, but i can’t have half the stuff you got me. i’m vegan.”

previous — m.list — next

notes. new character incoming?? 😏 also so sorry for so many written chapters.. ngl i have a few more 😭

taglist. open! @mmjhh1998 @haluenx @urlocalbeaner5 @cloudmrk @dudekiss3r @iluv7tn @jae-n0 @kikookii @remgeolli @lyleo @wumutititititi @kittydollzz @nctdreamchaser @kodasity @sibwol @worldwidecutiemaya @bbykaixx @luvsooby @luvvhaechan @awktwurtle @gomdoleemyson @morkiee @orangenbluetenbaum @fairyoflia @mxnhoeuwu

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Banana Split

Steven Grant x GN!Reader • Rating: M •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: You get an ice cream.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Last one for the MK bingo! I didn't quite get to finish the board (the other fics are just not in a good state to post, maybe I'll sort them out one day ^^)

Warnings: finger sucking, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 638

It had started with a playful argument about banana splits when you were in Kaspas. 

You weren’t quite sure how the discussion had started, just that the aforementioned desert had been on the menu and Steven and Marc had gone at it. 

Their bickering was always playful, a kind of sparring match that they seemed to partake in mainly for sport, and not so much for actually arguing about a topic. 

Seventy percent of the time you were pretty sure that they only took opposite sides so that they could continue quarrelling. 

Steven had said that banana splits were invented in the UK. Marc said USA. Steven had gotten up the Wikipedia page. Marc had gloated about how he was right. Steven had countered with, ‘yeah, but it does say no one knows for sure, doesn’t it? So it could have been anywhere.’ Marc had complained Steven was a sore loser, and ‘that everyone that could have been credited with inventing it was from America. So he wins.’ Steven had added, ‘Technically, you can’t invent a food.’ Marc, his tone dripping with exasperation, ‘Oh, getting technical now, are we? Because you’re a sore loser?’ 

It had carried on from there.  

Somewhere in between laughing you hadn’t quite been paying attention to your own ice cream sundae and some of the strawberry sauce had worked its way along the spoon and onto your fingers. You’d tutted and wiped it with a napkin, and hadn’t thought much more of it. 

That was until later when you were walking through the park with Steven and your fingers kept brushing together and sticking. The sauce, even though on inspection you could see absolutely no trace of it, was there on some microscopic level. Catching and fusing your fingers together. You tried to wipe your skin clean on a spare tissue, and then your trousers to no avail. 

The sensation was driving you close to madness. The constant irritation. The unending catch and pull. You couldn’t stop them from sticking without holding your fingers apart at a weird angle that started to cramp your hand. 

You needed to find a toilet, a sink, hell, even a puddle. Anything to-

“Love? You okay?” Steven frowns sympathetically, looking down at your hand. 

You nod halfheartedly. “Fingers are sticky.” 

“From the sauce?” 

You nod again.

He gave you a sympathetic look, his eyes softening in that sweet expression. “Poor love.” He kisses your cheek, knowing about and understanding your detest for the sensory experience. 

“Here.” He takes your hand carefully, so as to not push your fingers together. “These two?” He points to your middle and forefinger. 

You barely get a chance to nod, your mouth open to speak, but the words die in your throat as Steven sticks your fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.

For a brief moment, all thoughts drain out of your head. Your mind completely blank. You try not to stare, you really do. Your breathing hitches at the slide of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth, the way his eyes have closed. A spark of pleasure rushes down your spine. 

You really, really shouldn’t be enjoying this quite so much. 

He finishes. Taking your fingers out of his mouth with a pop, and smiles innocently. 

You stay staring. 

“Better?”

There is a pause before you remember how to speak. “I… erm…”

“Oh don’t worry!” He beams. “Strawberry sauce is vegan,” he waves a hand dismissively, but I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t.” 

You grab his arm, your skin burning with a deep heat, and begin to march him towards the park exit. If you didn’t get out of there in the next minute you were going to have to find some bushes to fuck him in.

“Love?” 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? Why?” 

Oh, he’d find out why.

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[nmakii]

Hii! Hear me out on this, right, Alastor (in your current yandere husband au) has one-on-one bonding with our lovely Noah. (I have a cat named Noah...lowkey imagining him here.) Idk what dads do with kids but for the sake of plot I'm going to call it hunting. Reader is sitting quietly as Noah tells her all about his day in the forest and how he got to see his food before it was his food! She starts thinking that no amount of nurture can overpower someone's nature. Reader doesn't hate her son...but she's just worried and is trying her best, because in her mind, she's still a single mom and always will be. (Rightfully so) Alastor is egging this on and almost trying to get reader to lose it in front of Noah, to prove something. Other things ! Alastor is def not happy with one kid lmao. Seven years is a long age gap...better hurry up! He wants his Emilia....not because his mother is asking for it or anything like it! Speaking of his mother...god rest her soul man...i lowkey would just marry him for her to be my legal mother (in-law). Rip mom...fly high girl... (Ps, can i please hug you platonically, i literally love you and your writing so much. Please remember that you've made so many cool things and will continue to make cool things no matter which path you go. Love you girly (gn), a little more than Alastor's mom) - Charry Anon

WE’RE GONNA FLY AWAY FROM HERE

[before you read this, read the rest of the story!]

— the more and more alastor influences your son, the more he becomes just like his father. but, why stop at just one child?

— i love u i will make MORE yandere alastor bc hes now my fave

you hated this house. no matter how much alastor tried to hide it, the subtle scent of blood reeked from all over this house.

you oh, so desperately wanted to run away— hop on a train all the way to long island. but, it isn’t so simple anymore. you had a son to think of, a son who’s growing scarily closer to his father.

the thought of hurting noah might have never crossed alastor’s mind, but he wasn’t above threatening it to bring you back home. and above all that, you couldn’t leave him alone with this wolf.

and so, you stayed.

“and then, papa told me to stay quiet… and he shot the turkey! papa took me to his butcher room and showed how get the yummy turkey meat! y’know mama, papa has lots of meat in his butcher room.” your son rambled on, kneeling on a stool by the kitchen counter as you prepare for dinner. “lots of meat, you say?” you raised an eyebrow. “…that sounds really fun, baby.” you sighed.

it’s only been a month since he forced you back. and, noah’s already calling alastor ‘papa’. he tainted your sweet boy’s mind— ‘mama lied to you, she wanted to keep you all to herself. she’s really selfish, but then again, i can’t blame her!’

and, you couldn’t protest. if you did, if you broke the rose-tinted filter alastor created— he would hurt you. not physically, alastor is still a ‘gentleman’. he’d hurt you mentally, break your little mind until you can’t do anything but nod your head.

alastor would never strike his hand on noah. after all, deep down, there’s some part of him that’s still in love with you, albeit in his own twisted way. and, noah is apart of you, alastor couldn’t bear to hurt him, not unless he’s misbehaving…

“mama, can we have the turkey we hunted for dinner?!” noah asked excitedly, slamming his hands against the counter over and over again. “sure, baby… but, remember before..? you got in trouble with mr. yee because you released all his chickens…” you asked, quite desperate. this little boy, the one who finds hunting fun. he is nothing like the one who wanted to become vegan after he found out where chicken comes from, despite failing because of his love for chicken burgers.

“yeah, but papa showed me how fun hunting is!” he squealed. at the mention of papa, alastor laughed, carrying noah from behind, tickling his belly as he kissed your little boy’s head. “talking to mama about our little trip, huh?” alastor grinned.

“ah, alastor… dinner will be ready in a half hour.” you glared at him. “no worries, my love. it just means that i have a half hour to play with our beautiful son!” he smugly said. he saw the hatred in your eyes the moment he said ‘our’.

he was trying to make you lose your shit. make you seem like a hysterical woman. that way, if you even tried to divorce him, noah would be left in his care. now that you were older and wiser, you wouldn’t play into his little trap.

“alright, you two have fun.” you begrudgingly smiled. alastor’s eyes widened, showing his shock for just one split second. alastor nudged noah, “go on for a second. papa wants to talk with mama.”

oh god, what now?

once noah left, alastor went behind you, straddling your waist. “what is it, alastor?” you groaned. “i want another child, darling” he whispered against your ear. “i visited my mother with noah last week, she adored him, my love. she said she’d adore a granddaughter this time. she even picked out a name, emilia.” he rambled on. “as much as i love your mother, i don’t want another child, alastor.” you hissed out.

“oh, but it’s not just my mother, dear. little noah also wants a little brother or sister of his own.” at the thought of a little sister for noah, it would keep him busy, away from alastor, wouldn’t it? he’d gain those brotherly instincts that are so reminiscent of the soft hearted boy you raised.

“…alright…” you frowned. alastor’s grip on your hips tightened as he pressed kisses onto your neck. “good girl.” your head leaned back as you melted into his touch. as much as you didn’t want to, the warm sensation of his soft lips on your skin was to die for. “after dinner, darling.” he grinned, finally leaving you alone.

what had you done to be forsaken with this monster?

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Congrats on reaching 4000 followers!!! 🥳

Can I request "so tell me, what do you feel for me?" "you know the answer. you know it all." "i want to hear you say it." with Steven Grant? ❤ it could be end with smut if you're comfortable with it 🤭

Same Tradition, Different Approach

✮ steven grant x afab!reader

✮ word count: 1.4k

✮ summary: a late night confession opens both you and steven's hearts (and your legs).

✮ warnings: fluff, smut, language, mention of food, mentions of anxiety, kisses, hair pulling, oral (f! receiving), cunnilingus, MINORS DNI, 18+.

minors if you keep reading i will manifest you having lice :)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main masterlist ⋆ moon knight masterlist ⋆ four-hundred follower bash

gif by @magnusedom Every Friday night, you and Steven meet at his apartment for movie night. You guys have kept this tradition every week for the past few years that you’ve been friends. Laying in his bed, you both stare at the laptop screen, a comfortable silence falling upon you two. 

With the final scenes playing, you sit up and stretch. “That was good,” you look towards Steven, still lying comfortably under the blankets, “a little slow, but good.” He nods his head in response as you fold up your laptop, tossing it aside, and giving him your full attention. “I brought vegan cookie dough if you’re up to baking. I’m craving something sweet,” you begin to rise from the mattress, but Steven’s abnormal silence stops you in your tracks. 

Steven’s ability to constantly talk about anything was one of the things you loved about him, along with many other things, so his lack of words shocked you. You say his name, and it finally catches his attention, “You okay?” 

His eyes linger on yours for a second too long, and he quickly diverts them before responding. “Y–Yeah,” he clears his throat before sitting up, the blankets pooling on his lap, “just some things on my mind, love.” 

Your head tilts at his confession. Steven always had a nervous habit when dealing with tricky things, so when you see this, you’re puzzled. Your eyes dart to his constantly moving hands then back to his eyes. You reach a hand towards his anxious ones, placing yours there to ease his mind, “We can talk about it. Only if you want to, of course.” 

“It’s complicated, and I don’t want to bother you,” his demeanor visibly relaxes at the feeling of your touch. 

You let out a breathy laugh, “You never bother me, Steven, you know that.” Your thumb has started to rub the back of his hand, each movement making his heart flutter. 

“Just,” he starts before stopping, trying to find the right words, “don’t let what I say ruin our friendship. I value too much, and if I happen to fuck this up then stop me right now.” Your heart was racing at each word that Steven was rambling over. He was a nervous mess in front of you, and you could tell he was scaring himself. You kept quiet to see if he would continue, but when he remained flustered, you decided to jump the gun. Grabbing the sides of his face, you pulled him in for a kiss. 

Nerves racked your brain until he kissed back. His hands, previously folded over each other on his lap, are now at the sides of your waist, pulling you in closer. There’s a fit of passion between the two of you. All these years of unspoken love have finally escaped, and you couldn’t be more relieved. 

You try to pull away, but Steven keeps you in his touch with one of his hands coming to the side of your neck. His other hand makes its way down to the meat of your hip, squeezing it. You gasp at his actions, pulling away to look at him with a smile on your face. Steven’s face is bright red, his gaze focusing on your lips until you grab his chin, forcing him to look up at you, “So tell me, what do you feel for me?”

He’s already leaning in for another kiss, his body needs you. You lean back, forcing him to chase your lips before he responds, knowing that you won’t let him touch you unless he answers your question, “You know the answer, darling. You know it all.” 

He thought you were satisfied until you shook your head, still holding his chin as you leaned in as close as possible. Still not connecting your lips, you whisper, “I want to hear you say it, Steven.” 

You’re teasing him, and he knows it. “I love you.” he starts before taking a deep breath and looking into your eyes. “I love every part of you, and I can’t handle another second without your touch now that I’ve finally got it. So, please…Please let me kiss you, love.” 

The grin on your face widens before you close the gap between you and Steven. He moans into the kiss as if you’re the sweetest fruit he’s sunk his teeth in. The sound of his pleasure sends waves straight to your core, a feeling of desperation grows as the kiss progresses. 

“Lay down,” Steven mutters into your lips. Leaning back to fall onto the mattress, your lips never leave his. His arms cage you in as he hovers over your body, his lips moving to your neck. His lips suck on the supple skin right under your ear, eliciting a moan from you. Your hands immediately weave themselves in his hair. Lifting his head he says your name, catching your attention, “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

Not another second goes by before you nod your head, eager to see what happens next. His arms slide down your torso, his fingers catching on the hem of your pants and hooking under your panties in one swift motion. You open your legs for Steven, and he wastes no time placing himself between them. 

He first places delicate kisses on each thigh. Each one is higher than the last, and each one causes a shiver to run up your spine. The anticipation was killing you, “Steven, please stop teasing.” 

He nips at the skin before licking it and placing his head on your thigh, looking up at you with innocent eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” You whine in response, and he laughs. “Hey,” he finally comes face to face with your aching pussy, “I had to get back at you for teasing me. Now we’re even.” 

You start to talk back before you’re cut off by Steven’s warm mouth on you. He doesn’t waste any time before diving his tongue deep into you, a gasp of surprise echoes throughout the small apartment. He’s lapping at your juices, the taste makes him moan into your clit. “Fuck, Steven…,” you moan, your hands gripping at the sheets beside you. You’re not sure where he learned how to do this, but that’s honestly the last thing on your mind, especially when he keeps sucking on your clit. 

Steven can see how hard you’re gripping the sheets, and even though you two are touching, he misses your touch. He removes one of his hands off of your thighs and reaches for yours. You’re still a moaning mess when Steven intertwines your fingers, but you notice his actions, as you always have. 

He can’t get enough of you, and when you cum into his mouth, he stays there, making sure to get every single drop. “Steven–fuck,” you giggle at his eagerness to keep going, but you’re too overstimulated to keep going. With your free hand, you hold the side of his head before gently pulling him off of you. 

His lips and chin are glistening from your slick, and he has a shit-eating grin on his face. You couldn’t get enough of the sight in front of you. Sitting up, you pull Steven up for a kiss. The taste of you on his lips makes you whine. 

Reaching towards Steven’s cock, you pull away when you feel a wet spot and a soft cock in his pants. You look back up at him, his face bright red from embarrassment, “Shit. I’m sorry, love. That’s pathetic of me.”

“Hey,” you give him a small peck, “I think it’s kind of hot actually.” You smile at him before standing and walking towards the bathroom. You look over your shoulder to see Steven, still on the bed, admiring your half-naked form. You tease, “Do you want to join me in the shower, or are you going to keep staring at me?”

He perks up at the suggestion and immediately joins you. 

Your movie nights will continue to be a tradition, but now, a few kisses in between each scene won’t hurt. 

✮ author's note: EEEK STEVEN GRANT!!! i love this man so much it's unreal. thank you for requesting this and participating in my bash, @steven-grants-world !! if you guys want to join, click on the link at the top of this fic. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! ok, bye ily 🫶

[acti-veg]

How do you get better being around/disagreeing with family?

I’m trying to remember I was in their place just recently, but now the relationship has changed since animal products are everywhere. I already disagree with them on a lot of things, which is hard enough to deal with because I hate disagreeing with anyone (even if I’m in the right), but this has kind of tipped over the iceberg. I like to think I’m nuanced about everything but when it comes to them I just want to shake them and scream ‘open your eyes!’

They support me but part of me wonders if they just see it as ‘quirky anon being quirky’. They’ve admitted they don’t want to know, which I’m torn about. Because on one hand while I want them to see and read what I did and become vegan, the idea of them doing that and then not being vegan….is scary. Does that make me a hypocrite?

Does it get easier? Family events, family gatherings? Just being around non vegan food? Should I even want it to get easier? Wouldn’t that be betraying my ethics?

Apologies for the downer ask. While I’m in your inbox I just want to say thank you for the reply you gave to my other anon a while ago (the spiralling one about owning a cat). It really helped me ease my anxieties (aided by talking to a therapist also (:). So thank you

I think that fundamentally, this is about accepting that you are not in control of, or responsible for, anyone else’s behaviour. You gain control what you do, you can make sure that the way you engage with the people around you is in keeping with your own ethics, but that is really the extent of it. I know this all sounds so obvious but it took me a long time and a lot of activism to actually internalise this lesson.

People are complicated, there is enormous social pressure to conform, there are millions of dollars in advertising and corporate lobbying all bent on making sure that people never really make the connection between the suffering of animals and the flesh that is on their plate. None of this is an excuse, but I think it takes something beyond just knowing what happens to animals to actually make that leap and that allow that emotional and cognitive connection, rather than just knowing something as an intellectual abstract. The conditions have to be just right.

For me, functioning in the world requires a certain amount of conscious disconnecting. I’m on the train on my way to a work event as I type this, when I get there the tables will be filled with the secretions and flesh of animals who probably suffered greatly and died in fear and in pain. I know that, but if I see a suffering pig in every ham sandwich on that table I wouldn’t be able to function, I couldn’t make small talk with the people eating it. I think you have to find a way to distance yourself mentally from that just to live a normal life.

Some people may argue that is ‘betraying your ethics,’ but you’re already vegan, so how is that a betrayal? Besides, what is the alternative? Is me breaking down and shouting at everyone who reaches for a sausage roll going to change their mind? I think that it is far better for animals if I can find a way to be level-headed about it and maintain connections with others, so that if someone actually did want to explore veganism, they’d know I’d be willing to help them without judgement.

I’ve been told this advice “isn’t very vegan” on tumblr before, but I’ve been an activist longer than most people here and I know what works and what is sustainable in the long term. If you are struggling with normal social interactions and events then I think it’s time to turn your attention to other interests for a while. Stop watching documentaries and reading books about veganism, just give yourself a little bit of a break from being so immersed in it.

Yes, you absolutely should want it to get easier. Animals don’t need you to suffer for them, they need you to be able to maintain your energy and mental health enough to be able to maintain veganism for life, and advocate effectively when the opportunity presents itself. I admire the passion and it speaks so well of you, but if you burn too fiercely on this you will burn out. Find a way to distract yourself and foster some peace, for your own sake and for the animals you’re advocating for.

Thanks for the kind words as well, I’m glad my previous reply helped you out a bit. I hope that this one does, too!

[deedeeznoofs]

Let’s Stop Time For a Bit

➺ Characters: Suguru Geto, GN!Reader 

➺ Word Count: 1.5k

➺ Genre: Fluff 

➺ Content: American 80s!AU, Established Relationship, Burgers and Milkshakes (sorry to any vegan readers 🥲), Geto Smoking (kind of), Lots of Kisses, Swearing

➺ A/N: I really enjoyed writing this story so I hope people enjoy reading ❤️

➺ Synopsis: Dates at the local Diner with your loving partner Suguru Geto are always a hit! But what happens when your boyfriend, always eager to try new things, finds his eyes attatched to a small little speaker with microphones attached to each end?

The loud slurp from your milkshake as you take a sip fills your ears and distracts you from the various sounds of the Diner. The loud music playing on the jukebox, waiters taking orders, and people laughing and talking together. Sure, all together it was a little overwhelming and chaotic, but otherwise the place was perfect. 

Not only that, but the food was amazing as well. The flavor of the cold milkshake hitting your warm tongue as you took a sip brought nothing but absolute bliss to you. The burger in front of you that was nearly the size of your head right next to the large bucket of fries was no laughing matter either. Whenever you order from this Diner, you find yourself shocked by the sheer proportions. Still, you always end up finishing all your food anyways, so these thoughts are short lived.

“This Diner never misses. Don’t you agree, love?”

Plus… you always had a great partner who helped you just in case you couldn’t finish all the food on your own.

You looked at your boyfriend across from you. A bright smile plastered on his face as he looked back at you with heart eyes. Your gorgeous partner and high school sweetheart, Suguru Geto. It has been a few years now since graduation, and while you both have evolved since then, inside he’s still the same Suguru that you always knew. His kindness, his gorgeous eyes, and of course– his luscious long black hair. 

While lots of things drew you to Suguru, in hindsight it was probably his hair that stood out the most. During a time when hairspray is essentially injected into people’s veins, seeing Suguru opt for a simple bun in his teens to now allowing his hair to fall completely down, is one of the things that constantly hook you to him even through the present day.

“...Darling? Are you okay?” Suguru asks, his smile fading slightly and his features now painted with worry. 

“Huh? Oh– Sorry, haha,” you reply, swirling your milkshake around with your straw, “I was just lost in thought”. 

“Oh? About what?” Suguru asks, curious about what made you lose your focus so intensely. 

“Hmm… just about how much I love you” you say with a giggle. Suguru was taken aback by your answer, he had assumed the worst when you said you were lost in thought, but your soft smile fully convinced him otherwise. So he simply laughed back at your comment, “God, you’re so corny…” he chuckled. “Yeah but you love it” you reply, feeding him a fry that he readily accepts. 

Loud music filled up the entire Diner as you both laughed together and ate. No matter how big the crowd, when you and Suguru are together it truly feels like you two are the only ones in the room. Time feels fast, with hours feeling like seconds, but at the same time it feels like time decides to not move at all and simply stops. Still, in what feels like no time at all, you two are completely finished with your meal.

“Man, that was good” you sigh, a bit disappointed that the day has come to a close already, yet satisfied that you were able to have this day with your boyfriend nonetheless. Though, when you look at Suguru, you notice that he isn’t looking back at you. Instead, he’s looking behind you. You turn around and see it, a small radio with two microphones connected to each end, and a book of song lyrics right next to it.

“Absolutely not” you say abruptly, which catches your boyfriend’s attention. 

He pouts in disappointment “But…why?” his eyes grow bigger, pleading with you to at least consider singing on the karaoke machine with him. 

“B-Because there’s so many people here!” you cross your arms at him, shy at the idea of singing in front of so many eyes. It’s a Saturday night, meaning that the Diner was as crowded as ever. The thought of having to sing with such a full house made you shiver in your seat. 

“Come on…no one will even look at us” Suguru leaves his side of the table and kneels next to where you sat “...please?” he asks, grabbing your hand. To the average observer, it probably looked like he was about to propose. Shit…if he did, you would have probably said yes with how convincing he was as he looked up at you, his pleading eyes sparkling, like he’d give you the world if you just accepted it. God… you could never truly say no to him, even if you tried. So you begrudgingly took his hand and allowed him to lead you toward the machine. 

“You’ll love it, I promise!” he says with glee as he stands up, practically dragging you toward the mics. You keep his hand intertwined with yours as you take baby steps on the tile floor. You both walk past the bright out of place disco ball in the middle of the restaurant and the red couches filled to the brim with people. As you look at the crowds, they serve simply as a reminder of what you’re about to do. In the end though, you both make your way to the machine.

Suguru, ever the gentleman, hands you the mic and goes “Okay…what song should we do? It should be a love song, of course” he chuckles, but you remain distracted. Suguru frowns, “Hey, I’m sorry… we don’t have to do this if you really don’t want–”. 

“No! It’s not that it’s just…” you laugh nervously “Suguru…people are staring” you blush and scratch the back of your head as you look toward the crowd of people. You aren’t completely sure if they’re looking at you, but it sure feels like it.

Suguru cups your face, and as your eyes meet his own he makes sure to caress your cheeks gently. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Shh… that’s just your pesky nerves getting in the way. Plus, if they are staring they’re about to witness the greatest show of their lives”. 

You laugh and touch his lips with yours, completely forgetting about how nervous you were just a few seconds ago. You pick a song from the book and giggle as it starts on the radio. 

Now… neither you nor Suguru were singers by any means. In fact, you both likely leaned more toward the opposite end of the spectrum. Still, this was a performance just for the two of you, the off-key singing, silly dances, and voice cracks doing nothing but accentuating how much fun you both were having with each other throughout the whole song. To your glee and to the rest of the Diner’s dismay, you and Suguru spent a good hour singing various songs together on the machine before you were forced out by the restaurant staff. They say it was to give others a shot, but there didn’t seem to be many people waiting their turn, though there were most likely people just begging inside for the two of you to finally stop. 

“Whew!” you spin around in glee as you both exit the Diner, the bright light of the 24-hour sign casting your shadow during the dark night. Despite you both essentially getting kicked out, you had absolutely no shame, only looking at Suguru’s happy face. 

Suguru simply hummed as he took out a cigarette from his pocket. Just as he was about to light it though, he looked at you as your face dropped in sadness. You froze and looked at him, before looking away awkwardly. 

“Sorry, sorry…” he spat out the white stick, letting it fall to the ground. “I know I need to quit” he tucks the lighter in his pocket and wraps his arms around your body from behind you and kisses your neck, bringing your mood up once again. “Mmm… thank you for today” Suguru mumbles into your neck. “Aw… of course, baby” you turn around to face him and give him a passionate kiss that he gladly leans into. “I love you” you mumble into his lips, and he hums back at you. 

As you both pull back, Suguru quickly goes “I love you too!”, and as he finishes the phrase he suddenly lifts you up and spins you around the parking lot, causing you to let out a short scream in shock. “Suguru! What–”.

He laughs, cutting you off, “Sorry! Sorry! Did I scare you?”. He bounces your body around, his strong arms keeping you secure. 

You laugh “No, it’s fine but give me a warning sometimes!” you playfully slap his chest and smile, kissing his lips for the nth time today. “Sorry, sorry, sorry” he says again, if he could lift his arms up to the air as an act of peace, he would. “Let me carry you home though… to make it up to you, yeah?” he smiles. 

You roll your eyes sarcastically but go “Okay… let’s go” as you lean into his chest. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you think about the man carrying you. The man who constantly has you do crazy things like karaoke at the Diner until they’re forced to kick you both out, the man who always gets you out of your comfort zone, and the man who always makes sure to tell you how much he loves you during and after the fact. Yeah… that man… the man you’re in love with, and the man you’ll stay in love with for decades to come. 

[bluemoonscape]

CAN U GO MORE INTO DEPTH ABOUT YUKI’S INVOLVEMENT IN THE DRAWING OF THE CARDS!!!!

OH MY GOD YEAH ABSOLUTELY HI HELLO

Okay so, remember the bear Lottie killed at the end of S1? In S2E4, it’s mentioned that someone stole the remaining bear meat from the meat shack but never revealed who, exactly, did it. I assume they’d been rationing it pretty severely seeing as they were still hungry enough to consume Jackie’s remains. It’s one of those small mysteries in the show (i.e. who shit in the pee bucket) that we never know a concrete answer to.

So this is where Yuki comes in! Before the crash, she struggled constantly with the pressures of being an immigrant still trying to adjust to life in New Jersey, having frequent counseling sessions to attend for her spotty history with adolescent delinquency, and trying to juggle grades and varsity on top of all this. This chaos manifested in her developing an eating disorder. On top of this, she’s been vegan her whole life, so you can imagine the shock of going from forcing herself to eat very little, and never meat, to eating as much as she can being necessary for her survival and only having meat available to do this.

Yuki actually becomes one of the most, shall we say enthusiastic cannibals of the group, because for her, it’s a release of expectation and an invitation to let go of polite society entirely. Though she participates in Snackie, her hunger isn’t satisfied for long and she panics at the prospect of starving again. So, rather than letting this happen, she steals the rest of their food stores (the bear meat) and finds a place to hide it from the others. The stolen food is a huge reason why the group has to do the card draw in the finale in the first place—they’re all starving and are out of their stores, no wildlife has been hunted recently, and so they have to eat one of their own. Yuki doesn’t mention a thing about how she stole the meat, certain she’d be automatically chosen for the hunt if she did. Instead she encouraged the drawing and stood silent while everyone drew. She was one of the first to chase after Nat when she bolted. She tried to kill Nat on the ice even after Javi fell through the ice, claiming that she couldn’t run from fate, but she was wrestled off of Nat by Misty. Thus, Javi drowns and Nat is chosen as the new leader—which, strangely, despite Yuki’s former enthusiasm to kill her, she accepts with no trouble.

[yallemagne]

My brother put on one of those silly little shark movies and I didn’t watch the whole thing because who can be bothered, right? But so. This movie is dumb, right? The shark is just a massive reskin of a great white and I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be Megalodon?

Why is it near the shore? Why is the water positively filled to the brim with swimmers on floats? Was there a party? Was the shark invited?? Why does she KEEP EATING PEOPLE? She’s just barrelling through them!!

Yes, I am gendering the shark.

And then it cuts and there is this tiny pod of children on floaties in the MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN, they are nowhere near shore, how did they get out that far? They are like liiiiittle kids.

But of course the shark killers play some dolphin or whale call, and she doesn’t get to gorge herself on children bc that would be a liiiittle too grotesque. But like why would the shark turn away from prey that is right there if she heard some in the distance? Are they going by the fact that sharks don’t like human flesh? Was she just feeling bad about herself so she was binging junk food until she got a call that someone delivered That Good Shit?

I stopped paying attention until the man stabbed the giant shark in the eye and killed her. Because after that A MILLION SHARKS COME IN AND START EATING HER. THATS unironically a funny end to a giant shark movie. Except that a hammerhead saw the guy and started swimming at him to eat him and I’m like “nooo baby go eat mama she’s right over there”. They couldn’t help themselves, they HAD to villainize the normal sharks too because god forbid a carnivore eats meat. How dare the sharks not simply go vegan.

But anyhow a giant shark simply would NOT be in shallow waters like that. There is a reason megafauna are found in the deeps, and the only time we find them in the shallows or on the shore is when they are mega dead. And a giant shark wouldn’t be going after such tiny prey. If it did? It would be going much much tinier than humans. It would be a filter feeder like a whale shark not just a bigass great white.

But then like ya know it made me think of movies like King Kong. And how as a society we have progressively gotten more and more sympathetic towards the giant ape and supposed “maybe those idiots shouldn’t have messed with the king fr”. And he’s now a symbol of Nature fighting back. I think Meg should get the same treatment, I think she’s in the right. I think there’s a reason why sharks in shark movies are so unrealistically vindictive towards humans. I think they heard about shark fin soup, and they’re right to be pissed.

[feastingonchrist]

oh my gosh i was trying to find some videos on how to help with binge eating from a Christian stand point but a lot of them keep talking about how people are making food an idol…… like maybe that’s the case for some people i guess?

but i do not find those videos helpful or relatable. At all.

like how would you like it if you have a mysterious digestive health issue where you can’t eat a lot of food that causes to to be full & your food gets stuck in your stomach for days on end and you’re forced to fast so you can either only eat one meal a day or at some points if you stick to an eating window you can possibly eat up to 3 meals a day. Yet still forced to fast. It’s so restrictive i hate it so much. Not to mention, you’re losing weight, not on purpose but just because YOUR BODY IS HUNGRY!!!!! And then people tell you you’re too skinny and you begin to internalize that and start hating the way you look. Also there is a history of not liking your body many years before that while also hating yourself and feeling worthless and lacking control in your life and over your health issues and being fearful and stressed constantly about what you’re gonna eat and if you’re gonna be able to eat normally ever again. Having to cut out foods bc they don’t digest well and just having to remove more and more foods from your diet. So on one hand you’re starving yourself bc of self hatred and on the other you’re only able to eat certain things. Then you try veganism to see if it’ll help your issue and it doesn’t. You develop ARFID at one point bc of food and monetary insecurity due to the pandemic and are in fear of never knowing when you’re gonna get your next meal. Then you become more obsessed w food and eating. You deal with side effects of health issues like extreme nausea and acid reflux and being so full to where you can’t even move despite hardly eating anything bc your stomach won’t digest. To then hating even feeling full bc it’s so physically uncomfortable and again makes you wonder when your next meal will be. So you start hating even getting full and feeling full. Then you can’t really eat for days and rely on apple juice and coconut water and almonds and popcorn as a laxative so you can even go to the bathroom so you CAN EAT. And then you start to develop bad habits around food and now binge eating even if you are full just to self sabotage and retaliate against your body that’s retaliating against you just to have some sort of control. I am so uncomfortable. I’m tired of eating. It’s become such a chore for me and a huge production. I’m so traumatized from food and think ab it 24/7 and it’s so hard to fight back against cravings and if i SHOULD eat bc i’m not getting any proper nutrients in and can’t gain weight. On top of trying to navigate still living at home and the effects of CPTSD and how i’ve never been truly able to speak up for myself or communicate in the ways i need to and how i don’t feel emotionally safe enough to open up ab things and dealing with a screwed up nervous system and i’m trying to slowly separate myself to even try to heal even if i can’t leave home. Just constantly feeling TRAPPED in your situation and inside of your own self…..

so, no, this whole binge eating thing going on is not/just an “idolatry” issue. It’s very complex and multi layered and most likely is for most people. Yes i would love some actual help for this. I do believe God is healing me of course, but, right in the thick of it where there is not anything changing or really ways to cope is the hardest part. And i don’t know who i can go to IRL for some help with this. I don’t have the heart to put this onto other people but at the same time i am about to be on my last straw with this. And the reason i have dealt w this for so long (i have had digestive issues since i was 10 and they didn’t start back up til i was 16 & now i’m 25) is because i had a dr and he basically told me i was making it up and they couldn’t rly find anything wrong in my endoscopy or emptying tests. Like it did show my stomach empties slow but nothing came out of that. NOT TO MENTION ALL THE MEDICAL TRAUMA I HAVE. I mean JEEZ the basic ability to EAT has been stolen from me and i don’t even know what to say to that. I’m just so stressed out spiritually and everything in my life has come to a halt and so much change and many emotions idk how to find peace or cope and i feel very alone and my routine has been stolen from me now that the preschool is closed for the summer so i miss people, my church, my paycheck… so i’m feeling exhausted, depressed, sad & burned out. Lots to process and rely on God for. But it’s so hard to rest and be kind to myself bc i feel guilty. Plus, i’m not ready to slow down. I miss working. My life JUST STARTED for once and everything was going so well and now it’s like a trainwreck.

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Thirty-Eight

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: I'm struggling with my health, so motivation and writers block is hitting me, but, trying to keep up a little, enjoy!

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram @sunsshinesunny @malerieee @talialovesmiw @shilohrosechicken @thatchickwiththecamera @tamtam-elizabeth

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

What the hell was happening?!?

Chris was staring at his phone and trying not to freak out. Breath, just breath. What was he going to tall Ricky and Talia? This, this was, this was… what the hell was this? Let's be real, he didn’t know what to tell Ricky and Talia because he had no idea what the fuck this was himself! It wasn’t just beyond confusing. It was insane! Forget about not using that word because of the sensitive issue about the fact both Talia and himself had been committed, he had been trying to be careful about saying, thinking it.. But push come to shove, right now, this felt utterly insane. A man he had been getting to know for years, that he had had intense philosophical conversations with, conversations that changed how he saw the soulmate bonds completely at times, just seemed to completely, what.. What the fuck?

Nothing made sense about what had just happened. Micah wouldn’t have turned on him, because that was what it felt like, Micah turning on him almost, somehow, just, a little bit. Or was that all in his head, was he over thinking this? Was, was he just imagining things here? Was he paranoid in that phone call because of the changes with his tattoo and reading too much in what had just happened? Maybe Micah was having a bad day. Still, what was wrong, what was happening? Why couldn’t he call that number anymore, this was all just so very, deranged.

“Hey Chris, have you heard back from that scientist guy yet? Because I was just think-”

Rick walking into the kitchen he stopped in his tracks taking one look at him, maybe it was the look on his face, or the fact he had been in the middle of making his lunch and had stopped cold, and it was all out on the counter forgotten. Something very unlike Chris. Leaving food out and risking it spoiling when he had to deal with enough finding decent vegan food in the past, and literally taught himself to cook to make his own, Chris didn’t just randomly leave food out. Ricky knew that, everyone that knew Chris well enough knew that.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Shit shit shit.. But honestly, Rick already had second thoughts about the scientists with his insistence on the testing elements, that much was obvious, and was getting the worst feeling now.. What was he supposed to say to him? Chris looking over at him after a moment, he swallowed, he didn’t know what to say, what could he say, that the hope he had for some answers had just gone down the drain.

Yes, they could wait and see if these tattoos could work themselves out on their own, but what if they didn’t? Would they be living with these effects for the rest of their lives? How would that work, at any moment it could affect them. Any moment, after what Ricky said he’d felt just from Chris kissing Talia, imagine Talia being in the middle of a tattoo and feeling him kissing Ricky out of the blue. That could have massive ramifications for her, and her client. 

“I, ah, heard from Micah, my scientist fr- guy.”

He wasn’t sure, were they friends right now, it made him feel sick to question it, when Chris trusted someone enough to call them his friend, it took a lot these days after everything. So to question it now, that hurt, and he hated himself just a little bit for it.

“Oh yeah? I'm guessing, from the look on your face, the news wasn’t great.”

Chris frowned, his brow furrowed slightly as he stared at Ricky for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, how to explain that conversation when he didn’t even know he could explain it to himself. So he decided to just say that, he didn’t know.

“I don’t know what it was. He got, cagey.”

“Cagey? What do you mean?”

Chris sighed, back to how to explain, start from the top he guessed.

“Well, I didn’t want to tell him about Talia, or you, because I didn’t want to risk anyone getting pulled into anything, so I spun a story about random soulmate stupid theories, and started sprouting off different random theories. All different ones, bits and pieces from other theories Rick, throwing this one into the mix. I didn’t even mention tattoos causing strange sensations, just changing, after, well, a soulmate died. Instantly this guy I’ve been talking to for years, that I’ve sent Christmas cards to, even birthday cards to his kids, starts getting fucking weird and cagey.” As he explained it, Chris went from being worried to actually being annoyed. Because, what the hell, what was going on?!

“Considering I was sufficiently freaked out by the time he was asking me if it was my tattoo that was changing, there was absolutely no way I was telling him, I hesitated. I might as well have screamed yes at the top of my lungs, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Now I feel completely fucked because then it got even creepier when he goes.”

Chris imitates a low raspy faux villian voice, they both know how good he is at changing his voice, it sounded nothing like Micah, but that was not the point of why he was using it. He just wanted to be anything but himself right then.

“Chris, whatever you do, don’t call this number again, I’ll be in touch. and then just hangs the hell up. What Ricky, what? Next thing I know, you're walking in. I trusted this man, what, what am I supposed to do, what if, shit, what if there is some conspiracy-”

“Hey, I’m the conspiracy-nut here, leave that job to me.”

Chris couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that with a scoff.

“This isn’t the time to joke Rick, I’m scared, my tattoo is changing, and someone I thought I could trust to ultimately listen and help me figure out what is happening to me eventually just-”

“Hey, hey,”

Swallowing, feeling Ricky’s hand on his arm.

“You know, whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

Ricky squeezed his fingers around Chris’ arm. There was no way he was going to walk away from Chris dealing with this, not now, not ever, not even if Talia wanted to go home. She might be his original soulmate, but Chris was his best friend, and he’d already been through hell and back. Besides, while he couldn’t guarantee it, not by a long shot, he didn’t think Talia was the kind of person that would just talk away. Not if Chris really needed her. Yes, it was just a tattoo to most people, but theirs was affecting them on an entirely different level, he was sure if anyone could appreciate that, Talia could after what they’d already gone through. What she’d already been through. Considering Talia for that matter, 

“Would you like me to call Talia, we can disc-”

Before he even finished what he was saying, just thinking that they could talk about what they wanted to do from here, Chris’ phone suddenly alerted them to a message, causing the taller man to startle out of nowhere. They were really going to have to do something about Chris stress level. He had always been a perfectionist, but he was not dealing with any of this very well, and Ricky was starting to get worried about him going over the edge from all of this.

“For the love of-”

Waiting while Chris checked the message, a groan coming from the man.

“Well, that’s just the icing on the cake, look at this.”

Chris practically shoved his phone over to Ricky for him to take.

“It’s a message, from Micah, it's an unknown number, but that’s how he signs off all his texts.”

“Okay.”

Well, that, was curious. Considering the only part of the message that made any sense whatsoever was the end where Micah had signed it off according to Chris, it was interesting to say the least. The rest was some kind of jargon, the entire thing was written in some kind of code, letters, numbers, and for the life of him, there was something familiar about it. 

“Do you have a notepad and pen anywhere?”

Rick wanted to write this message long hand so he could work it out other than on the tiny little screen of the phone. Obviously, it had to be something that Micah thought that Chris might be able to figure out, or at least, hoped he would be able to find a way to be able to. If he wanted him to at all. Chris could be right, it could be a conspiracy, this could just be a wild goose chase that they were about to be sent on. There might be every chance that Ricky was about to jump down the rabbit hole pointlessly, or, alternatively, Chris had a friend that was trying to actually help him, and was honestly trying to warn him away. Ricky, while had been very pessimistic lately for Chris’ sake, was willing to hope on the latter.

At the very least, he wanted to know what this damn message meant.

Even if it was just a rabbit hole.

With Chris handing over a pen and notebook, Ricky sat down at the kitchen table while the singer went back to work on finishing making lunch, only this time he set to making something for both of them. Ricky sat there, muttering to himself over the numbers, and letters, working through the different combinations, and possibilities, and while he could be going online to look up different cyphers for codes, he didn’t want to risk it. This wasn’t some random puzzle, this was Chris’ life, this was their life, and if he couldn’t figure it out, then what was the point of the code at all?

Having finished their lunch, and multiple cups of coffee, Ricky was looking at Chris suddenly, blinking…

“Could it be that simple?”

Murmuring to himself, and ripped yet another piece of paper from the notebook and scrunched it up and tossed it to the bin.

He missed.

Again.

The utterance however seemed to have gotten Chris’ attention, looking up from his phone that he had been looking over. Ricky hadn’t been paying attention to what the other had been doing, just engrossed in the message.

“What is it?”

“Just a minute.”

Ricky was already scribbling away furiously on the fresh page of the notepad, a whole new set of the figures as he glanced back to the code that he’d written out cleanly still beside him on the table. So far it was working, so far, the new page, it was making sense. So far, it really was that simple, and he was kicking himself for having not considered it before. Of course, Micah being a scientist, he’d gone for that side for, idiot. Sighing, he shouldn’t have been focusing on the science, he should have been thinking like Chris, like himself, like a musician.

“He has sent instructions, basically, buy a burner phone, call this number, and only call it at a certain time of day.” Ricky flipped the paper around so that Chris could read what the message had said,

“And a warning, not to talk to anyone else about your tattoo changing.”

Looking down at the scrawled message on the paper. So Micah was trying to help him, that, terrified him even more, that someone out there could be out to get him. Maybe not just him, but what if they came for Talia and Rick too for being connected to him now? 

“Shit.”

Reading over the message that Micah sent for him, so he guessed he was going to have to go buy a burner phone. 

“Looks like I’ve got a trip to the store ahead of me.”

Glancing at his watch,

“And about an hour before the first chance to call, I’m going to go now.”

He was not going to waste time. Chris wanted to find out what the hell was going on here, why Micah had suddenly started freaking out on him, otherwise he was going to be a mess all night and he knew it.

“I don’t think I can handle another day of spy games.”

Standing up from the table, he didn’t trust just sending someone else to grab a phone for him when it came to this. Chris swallowed as he glanced at Rick when he immediately followed suit, standing right alongside him.

“I’m coming with you. Don’t look at me like that, Talia is safe at Vinny’s, and if anyone is at risk from whatever the hell could be going on, on the other end of that phone call, it's mostly you, Chris. So I’m not letting you out of my sight until we know what's happening.”

Chris sighed,

“Alright, but I’m driving, Road Kill.”

Smirking as Ricky rolled his eyes, he was never letting that go.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics