#don't ask how many hours the bottles alone took

[i-like-the-eyes]

"Before you didn't kill me"

Another artwork for my Corinthian fan fic Lowered Shades.

This is from chapter 1 where these two meet.

[ckret2]

Chapter 48 of human Bill Cipher slowly dying inside for 24 hours straight with no signs of stopping anytime soon:

The Eclipse: Part 6

Over a month since his death and after nearly 50 chapters, at long last, the moment you've all been waiting for:

Bill has a complete physical and mental breakdown.

Unfortunately there's only one person available to deal with it.

They landed near where they'd camped last night. While the Pines climbed out, Bill stared at the sharp gray rocks beneath the cliff. The blood was gone. It took him a moment to process that Ford was speaking: "We can pack our tents, return Tate's boat, and borrow a phone to call Stanley for a ride."

Bill numbly climbed onto land.

Their tents were in disarray, but more or less where they'd left them the night before. While Ford and Dipper dealt with the largest tent and cleaned up the campsite, Bill methodically attempted to fold up the tent he'd slept in.

He couldn't make sense of it. There were too many plastic rods with too many little joints and too many fabric flaps, he couldn't parse the geometry of it. This should be easy, he'd watched Dipper assemble the tent last night, how hard could it be to do the same in reverse?

But it wasn't working. His hands were shaking. The joints were bending wrong, the joints were bending in directions that shouldn't exist, in impossible dimensions, shrinking and expanding perversely as they twisted in alien foreshortening—

Bill let out a gasp so loud and sharp that Ford and Dipper immediately whipped around to face him. Ford asked, "What is it?"

Bill couldn't speak. He just stared down at his awful human legs.

"Bill?"

Voice very far away—but impressively calm and flat—Bill said, "I have to sit down."

"Why? What happened?"

"My legs aren't working. I can't feel them."

His knees buckled. He tried to grip them to keep them straight, but found only one arm responded. "And—my left arm." He dropped to his knees in the mud.

And suddenly he was the center of attention, two humans moving around him in a dizzying flurry, all grotesque limbs and fabric: "Hey, are you okay?" "What happened? Are you injured?" "Think we should get help?" "Maybe he needs food—"

Too much. He closed his eyes, but there were still fingers on his arm and shoulders and back. He swatted at them with his functioning hand. "Don't touch me don't touch me DON'T TOUCH ME!" His shriek startled the birds from a nearby tree. He attempted to bite somebody, he wasn't sure who—this was what he'd been reduced to, no legs, no strength, no power, he couldn't even protect himself from being touched, all he had left was his teeth—but he misjudged the distance and bit only air. But it was enough to make the humans back off, shrinking into the distance.

"Don't touch me. Stop trying to move me. Don't ask me why I can't move. I don't know. This—this—" he gestured frantically at his body. He was moving too fast, talking too fast. "This—corpse—human body—is stupid. It's just being stupid! I need to sit. Leave me alone, I need to sit. I need to sit, and—look at nothing, and breathe." He was talking far too fast, breathing too fast. "I need it so much. Go away."

No matter how hard Bill tried to imagine the humans spontaneously ceasing to exist, they did not go away. Ford knelt in front of him, studying his face. "Try to smile."

Bill forced a smile. "Good. Good, good. Positive thinking."

"No. I'm trying to see if you're having a stroke." He sat back. "Your face muscles are still working symmetrical."

Bill decided to keep smiling anyway. He thought it might help. Happy happy happy.

"You say your can't feel your legs."

"Yes."

"Or your left arm."

"Yes."

"Did you feel any pain beforehand? Tingling in the limbs, or...?"

"No—no, no. They were working fine and then they were gone. They just—disappeared." Bill laughed. The laugh went on too long and sounded too high and too nervous. 

Ford nodded. "Okay. Drink this."

A water bottle materialized in Bill's field of vision. It took a couple of tries for Bill to manipulate his hand through three-dimensional space to grasp it. He shakily drank as much as he could. It tasted like drowning.

"Dipper, run to the bait shop and call for an... The nearest hospital is at least twenty miles outside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier, Bill can't get there. Call for a doctor and I'll stay here to—"

"No," Bill snapped, "no no no, don't call a doctor. I don't want—" He didn't want to be seen like this. He didn't want somebody picking him up and helping him into an ambulance like he was too weak to move himself. He didn't want Mabel to know. Bad enough Ford and the brat did. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?!" Ford gestured at him in disbelief. "Three fourths of your limbs aren't functioning—!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Something's wrong with the body. It's got nothing to do with me. I'm fine, I'm just in it." He shut his eyes and tried to breathe. "Just—just let me sit."

"Let you sit and then do what?"

"Give me time. It'll come back. Don't tell anyone and—stop looking at me."

There was silence. Bill didn't want to open his eyes. He heard Ford stand and walk away.

####

"Do you think he's faking?" Dipper murmured.

Ford hated that that always had to be the first question. "I can't imagine what he'd stand to benefit from pretending he can't walk." Bill had been desperate to get back inside the last two days. If he'd now decided to—what? maybe take advantage of his freedom to try to escape?—then why hadn't he done that when they got separated in the lake, or in the caves where Bill could see in the dark and Ford hadn't known how to call the geodites? If he was trying to separate Ford and Dipper from each other so he could kill them one by one—why hadn't he just let them die?

It was hard not to think about how he really had saved them for no clear reason.

"He's spent two very stressful days hardly eating, sleeping poorly, and hiking through half the mountain. I'd say he needs food and rest. And probably more water." He'd gulped down two thirds of Ford's water bottle.

"Seriously? He can't feel his legs, is—is that normal for like a day without food and sleep?" Dipper asked. "People can go longer than that, right? You've gone longer."

"It's not a 'normal' symptom of exhaustion, hunger, or dehydration. But I think he'll fight us if we try to get medical help. Let's deal with the immediate problems first and—see where we are then. Even if it doesn't help, at least then he won't be paralyzed and starving."

Dipper nodded uncertainly. "What do we do if he's dying?"

The boy catastrophized at the drop of a hat. In a way, Ford supposed it was a good thing—having been through his fair share of catastrophes, he knew it helped to be prepared—but Dipper was so young. "Get him to a doctor as soon as we can; and, if that isn't enough... hope we're lucky." In other words: hope Bill stayed dead.

Dipper nodded again. "What's our strategy if Weirdmageddon restarts? Maybe... I wonder if that's what the Axolotl was trying to warn me—"

"Lunch first," Ford said. "Then we can plan for the apocalypse."

####

Bill knew they were going to make him move. They hated him. They would parade him through the streets to make a mockery of him, look at the alien loser in a malfunctioning corpse, washed-up puppeteer who can't even control a meat marionette, he's already dead and you can make his corpse in the forest a tourist destination—

"Okay," Ford said. "We'll give it an hour. Dipper's heading to town to get some proper food and call the shack."

The shack. Like a prison cell with an open door and a black hole inside trying to suck him back in. "Don't tell them—"

Dipper said, "I won't, I'm just letting them know we're not dead. And that we'll call again in a couple of hours."

No doubt so that Bill couldn't kill them without the shack knowing something was wrong. "Right."

"Do you... want any specific food?"

"Not hungry."

There was a pause. "Right. I'll just... grab something."

Bill didn't care what he did. As Dipper left the sound of each footstep was like a knife in Bill's ears. He just needed to breathe, needed to breathe and be normal and feel normal and happy—

Something soft landed on his head.

Bill opened his eyes.

There was an unzipped, slightly moist sleeping bag draped over his head and around his shoulders; and Ford standing several feet away, hands awkwardly clasped behind his back, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself.

Bill said, "What."

Ford cleared his throat. "It. Helped when you were, ah... had a hair cut. I thought—it can't hurt."

It took Bill a moment to figure out what he meant. "Oh." The towel. Ford had seen him hide under a towel. Right. 

Ford winced and muttered, "Maybe it can hurt."

Bill croaked, "What."

It wasn't until he tried to speak that Bill realized he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. His vision swam, his shoulders shook, his breath came in sharp hitches—no no no no, that wasn't okay, not in front of— Stop, stop, stop.

He covered his eyes with his hand. The water bottle slid off his thighs and spilled on the ground. Between gasping breaths, Bill forced out, "This's—this is—good. Good."

"How is it...?"

"It's a—hint. This—it's—prob... probably... ps-psycho—som—ss—" 

"Psychosomatic?"

"Mm. Mhmm." He tried to get in a deeper breath and failed. "'Sgreat. Means—no inj—injuries. Flesh is—fine."

"So you're..." Ford's footsteps came closer, "saying it's psychological—?"

"No!" Bill let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm FINE! 'M happy. It's the body. It's—some hormone—hunger—exhaustion—just... s-synapses—and neurotrans—transmm—tr—"

"Easy. You can barely talk." He heard Ford sit next to him, felt the sleeping bag shift as he brushed against it. "Try to focus on breathing—"

"WHAT do you THINK I'm TRYING to—" Bill ineffectively pummeled Ford through the sleeping bag. "Move! Move, move, move! Don't t—touch—" He let out a frustrated scream that morphed into a humiliating sob, and had to clap his functioning hand over his mouth to smother the sound. He was not this body; he was a separate thing locked inside the body. This body was a prison, this body was a punishment. The legs didn't work, because the body was doing something to him. These weren't his tears, his grief, his fear. They were the body's. Which hormone was at fault? What could he blame other than himself?

He felt Ford's weight shift away from his side. "Okay, okay," Ford said. "Just... take it easy."

Bill socked him again. "Don't t-talk to me like a horse." He covered his eyes.

He didn't mean to risk his life for Ford.

Former friend, false worshiper, useless pawn, now enemy. Bill had just seen him floating out there and he'd done it—and he'd forgotten he could die.

In the Nightmare Realm he had saved his friends from peril billions of times before, because it was so easy for him, powers like a god, to see someone he was fond of and casually pluck them out of harm's way. It had been billions upon billions of years since Bill had been vulnerable to physical harm. He'd seen Ford in danger and he'd done what he always did and he'd forgotten he could have died.

He could have died. Eternally, permanently, last chance—he could have died.

And it would have been for nothing.

Bill was selfish. He had effortlessly saved friends billions of times but he'd also casually let them die just as many—assuming he didn't kill them himself. He saved friends because he liked them; but he didn't put himself out for ex-friends. Ford hadn't had one nice thing to say to Bill in years. Bill would never lure Ford back under his sway. Ford's survival endangered Bill's. But Bill had saved him anyway. He hadn't even stopped to think.

He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think about saving the human hellbent on killing him, he didn't want to think about almost dying, he didn't want to think about how peaceful it had been floating under the water, how easy it would have been to open his mouth and breathe in—he didn't want to think. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to empty his mind. He couldn't meditate through his hitching breaths and the way his stomach ached from struggling to keep his sobs silent, and his legs and left arm were gone.

He was fine. He was happy. He'd always been happy. Happy happy happy.

His entire body shook with sobs. He was dizzy—gasping between sobs for air he couldn't get. He was so lightheaded and crying so hard he couldn't stay upright. The edges of his vision went dark.

Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders and tugged him against his side. He held him up until Bill was too exhausted to cry anymore.

####

There was zipper noise, then a sound like shifting vinyl. Bill cracked his fingers apart to peer through them. Ford had unrolled the portable chessboard and was setting it up. "What?"

"It looks like we'll be here a while," Ford said, addressing his statement to the chessboard rather than to Bill. "It's... something else to focus on."

Bill wasn't sure what the emotion clawing its way through the grief-stricken haze in his mind was, but it felt very similar to relief. He nodded. "S—smart. I'm already—getting bored." His cheeks itched, his eyes burned, and his head was throbbing. As Ford set up the board, Bill closed his eyes and tried again to force himself to breathe more evenly. He was still dizzy from hyperventilating. Embarrassing—even a comatose human can breathe, and Bill couldn't even get that right. "Black?"

"I know."

Of course he knew. Bill always chose black. "First?"

"Fine." And Ford also knew, despite white traditionally getting the first move, Bill always moved first.

Bill waited in numb silence for Ford to finish setting up the board and sit on the other side. Moving almost automatically, Bill picked up a queen, hopped it over his line of pawns—

"Play it properly," Ford said irritably. "I put up with your cheating and lying for years, I'm not putting up with any more."

Bill gave Ford a look that he intended to be deeply offended, but immediately realized was probably just wet and pathetic. "Really? Now?"

Ford at least had the good sense to look a tad embarrassed, but he said, "I didn't set up the board to watch you move random pieces around like an untrained kindergartener."

"Three of my limbs don't work, Stanford."

"Are you suggesting your right arm doesn't remember the proper rules of chess?"

He wondered what Ford would say if he said yes. "I have a headache."

"You're probably dehydrated." Ford rummaged around in his backpack and offered over another bottle of water.

Bill reluctantly accepted it. He probably was dehydrated. "You owe me your life."

Ford fixed him with an unimpressed look. "You're trying to cash in a life debt... so you can cheat at chess?"

Bill opened his mouth; paused as he slowly thought that over; and dissolved into broken, hysterical giggles. "I don't know w-what I'm trying to do." He covered his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to steady his breathing again.

Ford sighed. He waited until Bill had regained some control over himself; and then he said, "You can make up one new rule."

Bill considered the offer. "Total, or per game?"

"Per game."

Deep breath. "Fine. But I'm not telling you what it is. You have to guess it."

Ford considered it. "Three conditions."

"Mm?"

"One: you have to share what the rule was at the end of the game. If any of your illegal moves didn't conform to that rule, you automatically lose."

"Mm."

"Two: any rule you come up with has to apply to both sides of the board equally. Nothing that only advantages you or disadvantages me," Ford said. "Three: if I can figure out what your new rule is before the game's over, I can use it too. Obviously, you lose if I ask you about the rule and you lie."

Bill mulled over Ford's terms. His head was so foggy, he'd already forgotten the first one. "Deal."

"Deal."

####

Bill lost every game.

Badly.

He was clobbered. He was creamed. He was a faint red smear upon the pavement.

Back in Ford's dreams, Bill had won a good four-fifths of their games. Ford had heard during his travels that Bill was a mediocre player, but he didn't think he was so bad that all of those games had been won due to cheating. Even when he wasn't cheating, Bill had sometimes taken Ford by surprise.

But now, Bill was squinting at the board like he was struggling to see where the pieces were. Occasionally his fingers pinched down on thin air like he was trying to grab a non-existent piece. So Ford assumed the catastrophic losses were more a reflection of Bill's mental state than his skill level.

The option to make up rules didn't save Bill, but it at least made the games more interesting—and unlike the rest of Bill's abysmal playing, the new rules gave Ford a glimpse of the devious mind still buried somewhere in the traumatized human body.

The first round, Bill decided that the queen could leapfrog over pieces like a knight, and when Ford pointed out that would mean whoever had the first move could put the opposing king in checkmate in one move, Bill grudgingly amended the rule: the queen could leapfrog to an empty square, but could only take pieces in a straight line in the conventional manner. Ford had to maintain a phalanx of pieces jealously clinging to his king to guard against Bill teleporting his queen to the king's side. Bill managed to check him twice before Ford won.

One round, Bill decreed that rooks could only land on pieces the same color as they were sitting on, then smugly nestled his king on a white square next to Ford's rook on a black square; and then promptly lost the game when Ford pointed out both of Bill's rooks were currently on white squares, meaning he'd broken his own rule before he'd revealed it.

One round he decided that kings could move like queens, which Ford only discovered when he thought he'd checkmated him and then Bill zoomed his king across the board to take Ford's bishop; and then Bill lost a few moves later when Ford used his own king's newly revealed power to properly corner Bill.

One round Bill decided that once any back row piece was captured, it reincarnated in the body of the corresponding front row pawn. Ford genuinely liked the new rule—it meant you had to capture and checkmate both the king and the king's pawn before the game was over, and you had to be more cautious about what pieces you took since it could inadvertently set up a previously harmless enemy pawn to devastate your side of the board. But by the time Bill revealed that rule by jumping a pawn like a knight, Ford had already taken Bill's king's pawn and seen a way to checkmate him in two moves. It was a sore disappointment to end the game before getting to experiment with the new rule.

A few games were so short that Ford won without ever seeing Bill pull a nonstandard move. Round seven was one such game. Ford cornered Bill with a knight and a bishop. That had been the quickest match yet. Game over. "Checkmate."

"Checkmate," Bill said. 

Ford paused, looking over the board, thinking moving his bishop must have given one of Bill's pieces line of sight to his king; but no, his king was perfectly safe. "What?"

"Checkmate."

"You can't mate me, I just mated you."

"I know. Checkmate."

Frowning, Ford said, "Explain."

"The extra rule this game is that both kings are wearing suicide vests." He tapped his king, "He's wired up with enough explosives to wipe out the whole board." There was a look of steely exhaustion on his face. He looked like the kind of desperate, hopeless man who would put on a suicide vest. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me."

Ford laughed so hard his stomach hurt.

It was petty revenge for losing seven games in a row. A frustrated child flipping the chessboard, but making a self-deprecating joke out of it: as long as we both know I'm going to lose anyway...

When Ford had recovered himself enough to look at Bill again, Bill was giving him a faint, grim smile that didn't quite make it to his one open eye. Still—he looked a little less miserable than he had for the past hour. Or the past couple days.

Ford said, "We'll call that one a stalemate."

"I'll take it."

####

After trying all morning and half the afternoon, Dipper had remembered part of what the Axolotl had told him. Just one phrase: sixty degrees that come in threes. He could hear the rhythm and rhyme of whatever the Axolotl said next, something something something -eez—it rhymed, he was sure of that—but the rest...?

It took Dipper over an hour and a half to get back to the campsite; he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, and consequently, gotten lost in the forest. He returned with a plastic bag of the kind of junk food they regularly saw Bill consuming in the shack, a few slices of gas station pizza, and a clear takeout container of nachos. Bill immediately went for the nachos.

While Bill was inspecting the circle-shaped tortilla chips with obvious disappointment, Dipper rummaged around in the plastic bag until he found a small jar of rainbow sprinkles and offered them to Bill. Bill took it without acknowledging Dipper, awkwardly untwisted the lid with one hand and ripped off the seal with his teeth, and liberally drowned his nachos.

"The gas station looks like an earthquake hit it," Dipper reported. "And most of the cars had popped tires. I guess they must've floated up and then crashed back down." He took a cheese pizza slice and offered the box to Ford. "Nobody I asked saw the Axolotl."

Ford glanced at Bill, expecting him to have some kind of comment on that; but Bill just grunted "Mm," focused on the chess game like he thought he'd be killed if he glanced away.

Dipper pointed out when Bill pulled an illegal move, Ford explained the new rules they were playing by, and Dipper settled down to watch. He tried to razz Bill the next time he lost; but Bill made such a pathetic figure that he couldn't even enjoy making fun of him and quickly gave up.

During the next game, Bill unexpectedly slid a pawn backward diagonally to take out Ford's queen. While Ford was silently fuming over the loss of his most powerful piece, Dipper hazarded, "Can pawns capture both forward and backward?" That would have been Ford's guess too.

But Bill simply said, "No."

Dipper mumbled, "Huh," lost focus on the game, and stared off into the distance, murmuring something under his breath. He kept getting lost in his thoughts today. Ford supposed nobody in this hiking party was in the best mental state.

Maybe pawns could move like bishops? But when Ford tried to slide one diagonally across the board, Bill said, "That's illegal," and Ford returned it to its original spot. There was some hidden condition he was missing. Maybe which color square the pawn was on? Or maybe it was like en passant, you could only capture an enemy piece backwards if that was the first time the enemy piece moved?

When the game was over—Ford won, but Bill had held out longer than usual—Ford asked, "All right, what was the new rule?"

"Pawns can capture forward and backward." While Ford and Dipper stared at him in mute outrage, Bill ignored them to casually shift his posture from kneeling—his knees had gotten sore—to lotus position, and said, "Next game?" as though he couldn't even be bothered to notice the humans' fury.

"But that's exactly what we said!" Ford snapped. "You lied to me!"

"No," Bill said, "I lied to the kid. I'm not playing against the kid. Why are you paying attention to what I tell him?"

Dipper demanded, "How is that fair? Anyone listening would think—"

But he fell silent when Ford laughed. "Of course," Ford said. "I should have expected that. Any loophole you can find. That's part of the game to you, isn't it."

Bill gave Ford an unsettlingly knowing look; and Ford supposed it was part of the game to him, too.

(Somewhere in the back of Bill's foggy mind, he kept count: three times. Before today, Bill wasn't sure he'd heard Ford laugh once this summer. What changed? What was Bill doing differently? Maybe Ford only liked him when he was completely broken.)

It took until halfway through the next game for Ford to realize Bill had moved his legs.

####

Over Ford's protests that they should wait until his strength was back, Bill insisted they get moving immediately. He'd rather be locked in the shack again than spend one more minute sitting by the lake.

"I hate being surrounded by trees. Why do humans like nature so much. This is miserable." Caked in mud, still wearing a towel like a skirt, teetering with exhaustion, Bill certainly looked like the most miserable camper to ever exist. "I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of looking at pines."

Ford wondered whether the pun was intentional.

Bill's limbs were weak and uncoordinated. He could twitch his left fingers when asked, but his grip strength was nonexistent and the arm hung limply at his side when he wasn't actively trying to use it. His legs moved, but when he tried to get to his feet he collapsed back into the mud. But he thought he could probably stand with support. He ignored the hand Ford offered and crawled to the nearest tree to lean on as he got to his feet. Ford could see Bill's knees tremble.

"I don't need your help," Bill grumbled. "I can stand fine on my own."

Ford wouldn't argue with Bill's definition of fine. "But can you walk?"

"I could." He couldn't even make the lie convincing.

"Then be my guest."

"I'm saving my strength."

It would almost be funny if he wasn't being such an inconvenience. "Well, you're here and the boat is over there." Ford gestured. The shore was much further away than it had been yesterday. "If you can't walk, then you're either crawling or you're getting help. Which you'd prefer is between you and your dignity."

Bill's face reddened. "Don't talk to me about my dignity, like you've ever cared about my dignity..." He twisted around to inspect the tree behind him, tired gaze looking over the branches—maybe he was planning to break off a walking stick? He attempted to grab a thin branch that wouldn't serve as a walking stick for a toddler. He wasn't strong enough to break it off. He kept trying.

They were never getting to the boat. "Please let me help."

"Go jump in a lake. Again."

How did Ford handle this without prodding at Bill's bruised ego? "Consider it my thanks for—ah..." Ford cleared his throat. "For actually telling the truth about the eclipse. In spite of... what was no doubt immense temptation to lie like a cheap rug. Since we didn't believe you anyway." He had averted his gaze in embarrassment; he forced himself to face Bill like a man. Bill was actually looking at him again. "And for not chucking my gnephew's body off the cliff when you had the opportunity." The bar was so low it was on the ground, and yet it was still impressive that Bill hadn't found a way to dig under it. "And... for saving my life."

Bill set his jaw tight, as if he didn't like being reminded of his moment of decency; but he said, "Fine, get over here." He held out his good arm. "Help your hero and savior limp triumphantly off the field of battle."

When Ford offered his hand, Bill ignored it, and practically snarled when Ford tried to wrap it around his waist for support. Rather than putting his arm over Ford's shoulders, Bill seized a wad of fabric near the collar of Ford's t-shirt as a handhold to hang his weight from. Ford felt less like he was supporting Bill, and more like he'd just gotten in trouble and his father was marching him into the living room by his collar to give him a stern talking-to.

"First time you've ever thanked me for anything I've done for you," Bill muttered. Ford told himself he could drop Bill once they were on the boat.

Dipper was completely zoned out, waiting on the boat staring off in the direction the Axolotl had flown. He didn't react as Bill sat next to him, and Bill didn't acknowledge he existed. Ford started the motor, and they crossed the lake toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle.

####

(You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to post this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear what you think, and I hope those of y'all who have been waiting for Bill to cry like a baby are satisfied.)

[lets-try-some-writing]

i love it when people apply the whole “humans are space orcs” idea to transformer humans.

jack, miko and raf just doing regular, average day things that make the bots both extremely worried and unsettled gives me so much brainrot.

I got you here. I love this kind of lore/reaction ask.

Each of the children have a particular habit that bothers the team more than anything else. Can it be explained? Not really. All humans do the things they do. But for the bots, it is strange and out of sorts all the same.

Miko always carries around a bottle of sparkling water. She adores the stuff. The team, despite knowing it is not what the name implies, are still horrified with her drinking habits. Not to mention, they can't help but wonder where all the liquid goes. She drinks up to three whole bottles of water a day. In her own words "Hydrate or die." That in it of itself is concerning since the team, while well aware that humans need water, do not know how much they need exactly. The team are down right terrified of her ability to down water like a dry sponge. How can such a small fleshy even consume that much? They aren't entirely sure. Not only that, but if she drinks that much, then are Jack and Rafael getting enough? They can't be.

Not only does Miko down water like a bone dry houseplant, she also drinks just about anything else too. The team have seen her chug sodas which contain Primus knows how many strange chemicals and compounds. They've observed her willingly drink things that no other would on bets, including food that has been blended and watered down just because Jack wanted to see if it was possible for her to down hotdog cafeteria milk cheeto apple slurry.

Yes the team are terrified of humans and their ability to put anything inside themselves and walk it off. But more than any other, they fear Miko. Who knows what she's consumed.

All the kids do it, but Jack is the most notable since when he needs to go to the restroom, he makes it loud and clear mainly so that someone knows to keep an eye on Miko. The team are aware that organics have a need to manually handle removing waste since their systems are rather inefficient, however there is a certain level of mysteriousness surrounding the restrooms. The bots don't want to watch or even know HOW the humans get rid of waste, but they do know that THINGS happen in the restroom that seem to either be painful, emotional, refreshing, or aggravating. No one can really be sure what reaction will follow those who enter the space. Sometimes Jack or one of the other kids will go in there seemingly to just be alone.

It is a strange and almost sacred location where strange happenings occur. Miko went in once with bloody clothes and emerged with a fresh set before Ratchet could figure out what was wrong in the first place. Jack went in once and came out an hour later looking like he'd gone to war after he convinced Arcee to let him stop and get takeout the night before. Rafael took his charger and computer in there and hogged the space for a while to get away from the others once. The team does not know what happens in there, but it is mildly concerning since it either repairs or breaks a person.

Bulkhead theorizes that its a pocket dimension like the shadow zone. Ratchet refuses to think about it. Optimus will say nothing about whatever he knows. Arcee and Bee assume its a safe haven or sorts and Wheeljack is almost certain they keep weapons in there. Ultra Magnus and Smokescreen both agree that the restroom is simply a quiet space where a human can deal with personal issues in peace.

No bot is willing to try and confirm anything since humans flip out at any attempts to view the supposedly sacred ground.

Rafael is generally pretty good about flying under the radar most of the time, but he has a habit that has caught the team's attention. Humans have been noted doing what they can to clean themselves on their own. Its rather ineffective to clean one's own venting openings with digits considering the sheer amount of germs involved, but it is not out of the question to do so when a cleaning cloth is not available. Rafael occasionally and quietly trying to clean his nose is not what bothers the team.

No what horrifies them is the goop that he pulls out after his attempt at cleaning. What Ratchet has studied states that the goop is referred to by a number names, but is commonly called snot. Its the natural germ catcher humans have, but it still unsettles the team whenever Rafael quietly blows a few or when one of the others grabs a tissue and makes a rather disgusting sound as they try to clear their airways.

The goop reminds the team of any number of horrible things. But the sheer amount of GROSS within a small amount of the stuff has left the team all gagging whenever they find the stuff around base. Rafael is usually good about being clean, but sometimes he gets lazy and will use his chair to hide his cleaning attempts. Bumblebee has almost purged a few times seeing the marks on the chair from where Rafael may or may not have wiped his fingers.

Is he twelve? Yes. Is he fully mature? No. That much is evident just by looking at his chair.

[hearts4skywalker]

why don't you bring your girlfriend? // robby keene

materlist!!

summary: robby keene had always been cobra kai's top fighter. when kyler decides to throw a party, kenny and the others all bombard robby on why he doesn't bring his girlfriend to the party.

pairings: you and robby!!

warnings: pet names (baby), you're literally such cutie, fem prns, probably cringe, takes place end season 3 (except it doesn't really make timeline sense but for the sake of the one-shot bear with me), hawk and devon being cobra kai, it didn't not come out the way i wanted to so i might make another robby one-shot idk 🤷‍♀️

w/c: 1100

robby had been punching the dummy for what felt like hours. his knuckles hurt and had blisters all over them. nothing cobra kai's top fighter couldn't deal with, however. next to the brunette was tory. she had just finished nis sparing with kyler when she sat down to take a drink.

seeing everyone grabbing water, robby followed. he twisted the cap off of a plastic water bottle, flicking it into a corner to never be found again. robby wasn't one to chat during practice. he found it disrupting and the last thing he would want to do is upset silver or kreese. truth be told, the boy was terrified of his senseis.

"party at mine tonight. be there by 7 or i'll open the kegs without you guys." robby didn't have to look up from staring at his bloody knuckles to know who's voice it was. kyler's voice annoyed robby to no end. robby listened to the people who said they'd be there. tory spoke up. "keene, you going?"

robby shook his head. "can't make it." kyler's face went from being full of pride to slightly offended. "why not? you too good for your friends now?" kyler rolled his eyes. robby cocked an eyebrow, standing up and walking over to the group. "sorry man i told my girlfriend i'd come over after practice." tory looked surprised.

kenny's eyes widened. "wait, robby, you have a girlfriend? since when?" this was news to everyone. even though robby and y/n had been dating since before he was on the run last year, the two never told anyone. partly because they were both very private people and partly because y/n was scared of samantha larusso. "uh about a year and a half now." robby looked around the room, realizing his mistake.

"why don't you bring your girlfriend?" tory interrogated. it was a pretty solid idea. robby just didn't know if y/n was all that of a party person. it couldn't hurt to ask he supposed. "i'll ask her. but no promises we'll show." and with that, robby left to head over to his girlfriends.

robby softly knocked on y/n's front door, knowing she was home alone and he didn't want to scare her. y/n quickly opened the door. her face lit up when she saw that it was robby. she threw her arms around his neck, giving him the biggest hug she could.

"hey, baby, i have a huge question to ask." robby started. the two had been laying in y/n's bed for quite some time now. it was around 6, an hour before the party started. y/n hummed in response. robby sat up, subconsciously scooting y/n up so she was still laying on his legs. robby took a deep breath. "kylershavingapartytonightandimayhaveaccidentallyletitslipthatwe'vebeendatingforayearandnowtheywantmetobringyousoyoucanmeetthem." (kylers having a party tonight and i kinda let it slip that we've been dating for a year and now they want me to bring you so you can meet them)

y/n was taken back by how quickly he attempted to get that out. "sure, seems fun." y/n patted robby's leg reassuringly. "wait really?" robby pushed his hair back, a sign of relief escaping his legs. "really. it's been a year and i think it's time for me to meet them." y/n sat up, shrugging. "you're actually the best." robby smiled, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

an hour later the two had arrived at kyler's house, already hearing the music blasting from a few houses down. there weren't many people there, just the cobras. tory described it as a "inner circle only" kind of thing. robby opened y/n's car door, offering his hand for her to grab. of course she couldn't pass on that offer. she took robby's hand. robby slammed the door shut with his free hand.

the two didn't know whether to knock or to just walk in. judging by how loud the music was, the two just walked in. the chatter stopped when the couple came into sight. "holy shit." kenny whispered to kyler, pointing at robby. "yo, keene, your girl was real?" kyler raised an eyebrow. y/n flipped him off. "this is y/n. y/n these guys are kyler, kenny, hawk, tory, devon, and....stingray?" robby pointed at each person, pausing at stingray.

y/n nodded towards everyone. her and robby went to go sit on the couch. "so, y/n, how did you and robby meet?" tory questioned, trying to help y/n ease into the group. (we love a polite queen) "oh.. uhh.. i think the first time we met he was working at larusso's car shop and i was picking up my car. right?" y/n held robby's hand a little tighter. she looked up at him for confirmation.

"pretty sure that's what happened." robby nodded. tory smiled at y/n. "c'mon, y/n. me, you, and devon can just talk while they do... whatever the fuck they're doing." tory had a weird tone in her voice when she said the last part. kyler had been trying to get stingray to chug a beer without spilling drop. "be back, baby." y/n kissed robby's cheek before taking tory's hand and running outside with her and devon.

devon took a breath of fresh air. "those people piss me off so much." devon laughed. tory nodded with her. the three girls sat in the grass, staring up at the stars. "you look good with robby. he's been a lot happier." tory reassured y/n. not like she needed the reassurance, but it was still nice to hear.

the girls talked about themselves, as well as cobra kai as a whole, for a good hour and a half before people started leaving the party. robby came outside, car keys in hand. "you ready?" he asked. y/n nodded, brushing the grass off her knees. she held her hands out for tory and devon to grab. she pulled them up within seconds. "it was so nice meeting you guys." y/n smiled at the two. the girls smiled back at her.

robby opened the car door for y/n, then closing it when she was fully in the car. he got into the driver's side, starting the car. "so, how'd you like them?" robby reached a hand over the gear stick to hold her hand. he rubbed his fingers over he knuckles. "it was good. they're sweet girls. especially tory." robby snickered.

y/n looker over at him confused. "it's nothing, baby. just never heard the words 'tory' and 'nice' in the same sentence."

[caramelcleopatraa]

CAUGHT IN 4K

word count: 3.3k

x: finals are coming up, so i'm gonna be very busy, but i'm still writing y'all (this is the most consistent i've been lol) (excuse any errors of course) Hope you guys enjoyyy! leave comments... please. I love your comments.

content: Imani has a crush on Roman. Their friend group goes on live and her secret comes to the light. She thought that she was going to be rejected and move on, but things never go the way people expect. Roman Reigns x Imani, 18+ MDNI, oral (m recieving), cowg!rl, creamp!e

Imani loved weekend kickbacks. Time to chillax with her favorite people, and get her mind off of things. It was moments like these she waited for. Drinks and joints in rotation, and endless fun for hours to come. Jimmy, Jey, Roman, Trinity Talia, and Imani. She wishes that she was only thinking about the good vibes that circulated in the atmosphere, but she was focused on something else. It wasn’t like she was necessarily trying to focus on Roman, but it was inevitable when she could see him so clearly from the kitchen. She knew that having a crush on him could possibly mess up the bond that the group has, but he was so gravitating, He was perfect in her eyes. She basically textbook described him when Trinity and Talia asked her to describe her dream man: Tall, muscular, sweet, absurdly attractive, charismatic, humorous, dedicated. God, she could go on to name every single one of his attributes that she loved. She tried to brush it off as a mistake at first, but there was no part about this that was a mistake. He had a tight grip on her, and he wasn't even aware. She wonders what would happen if he felt the same way. If those pretty brown eyes she daydreamed about would reciprocate the love she was anxiously waiting to give him. She could only imagine all of the things she could do for him, to him, and provide him. If she had him all to herself, how they would spend their nights alone. How it would feel to be wrapped in his embrace. How it would feel to get lost in him between the sheets for hours, and repeat it again the next day. If she had him all to herself.

“WE GETTIN TURNT!” Talia raised her glass in the air and yelled out to her viewers, watching her through the small rectangular frame. Jimmy came around the corner with uno cards in his hands as the six of us gathered around the table. Roman, Trinity, or Jey would pop into the frame to answer a couple of questions while Jimmy shuffles the cards and Imani gathers multiple bottles to bring to the table. “Mani! They have some questions for you!” Imani joins her party, sitting the bottles on the table and scanning through the comments.

‘Do you get to go backstage with the bloodline?’

“Yes! It's amazing, I'm not gonna lie.”

‘Please do a makeup tutorial!’

“Maybe, I don't have a youtube channel.”

‘Seen any guys that have caught your eye?’

“A couple, but they ain’t nothin’ important.”

“Oh word?” Talia and Trinity both look at her with curious faces, but Imani just giggles and goes back to answering questions. 

“Ooh this is a good one. Kiss, marry, fuck: Jason Momoa, Michael B. Jordan, and Roman Reigns,” Talia reads out loud. That question got everyone’s attention. Jimmy stopped fidgeting with the cards and Roman and Jey both put their phones down impatient for her answer. “Well?” Talia was definitely setting her up, and she could feel it. Thank god for her brown skin that covered her fastly spreading blush. “Do I have to answer this?” “Yes, you do. I'm intrigued now,” Trinity says, as Imani quickly takes a double take at the entire table to see them all staring at her. She sighs before surrendering and thinking hard about the question.

“I’ll… kiss… Michael B. Jordan, fuck Jason Momoa, and marry Roman Reigns.” She instantly regretted answering the question before Trinity pried at Imani to get out more information that everyone was itching to know. “Hmm, why marry Roman?” She quickly swiped her drink off of the table and took a long sip, hiding her face. In all honesty, she wanted to say that it was the easiest choice, but that would only make her sound suspicious. And that was not a conversation that she wanted to have in front of quite literally everyone. “I'm not interested in the other guys like that.” “So you’re interested in Roman?” ‘Wait- wait! Noo that's not what I meant!’

“No, I just wouldn't marry the other two men. It’s not that deep Trin,” Imani says, a failed attempt at dismissing the conversation. “You’ve never gotten this defensive before… don’t tell me that you in your feelings.” She could see Talia smirking at the corner of her eyes. She knew she had to stop this fast. “You’re reaching Talia,” Imani says, laughing to herself. “Oooooh Imani wants the Tribal Chief, huh?” Never in her life had she ever been more embarrassed. “Jimmy, for the love of god, please start dealing the cards,” Imani says, covering her face, her words muffled by her hands. Everyone laughs, finding amusement in her nervousness. She anxiously waited for Jimmy to start dealing the cards so this moment could pass.

11:27 pm

Several rounds of uno and spades passed, and the guests were slowly starting to make their way out. She noticed Talia, Trinity, Jey, and Jimmy momentarily texting throughout the night, which would probably explain why the four of them were explaining the consequence of Imani losing a couple of rounds. “Sooooo we thought of something. Don’t be mad! It’s just a punishment for losing so much,” Talia says, sticking out her tongue. “Your punishment is that you have to ask Roman to fuck you.” ‘ASK ROMAN TO WHATT!?!?’

Her surprised face told them everything they needed to know. “You'll be fine. Uce will probably be down to fuck either way,” Jey says. Imani gave Talia a death glare, making Talia laugh. “You’re trippin’ girl. Just approach him with the right energy and make him want to stay with you. I guess this answers the question of if you have a crush on him or not.” Before she could defend herself, Roman walks in from the restroom and the four of them are gone in the blink of an eye. ‘These trifling’ heifers’

“Guess they all left. I should be on my way out then. Thank you for the food and dr-” She steps in front of him, stopping him from exiting out the front door. He looks at her with confusion. “You okay?” Her heart was beating fast. She didn't fully think out what she was going to do after she stepped in front of him, but it was now or never. 

“Fuck me.”

“...what?”

“F-fuck me.” She couldn't look him in the eye the second time. The pressure weighing on her shoulders was too much. But the thing that was racking her brain the most was how close they were. She felt like this was a disaster taking place in real time. She hears a soft chuckle, looking up to see him lightly smiling at her. “Was this your punishment for losing?” She nods, and his smile stays fixed on his face. “Do you want me to?” 

‘...did he say what I think he just said?’

Her mind is searching for an answer, a reason to say no. But she can't find any. As embarrassing and confusing this was, she had daydreamed about this moment. Maybe he was just being nice and would give her a quick fuck to fulfill the punishment. That idea became her leading thought. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomf-” “Do you want me to fuck you Imani?”

‘Shit he’s not joking.’

She slowly nods, which prompts him to lock the front door behind you. Her head was spinning, trying her hardest to maintain her composure. “Ask me again.”

“Fuck me, please,” She says nervously, eyes returning her shiny tile floors. “I don’t believe you sweetheart. Ask me again.” His hand gently grabs at her chin, making Imani look at him. Once they made eye contact, she knew that she was done for. She was already feeling weak from just looking at him. She took a deep breath before finally saying, “Please fuck me Roman.”

He wasted no time pulling her into a heated kiss. Not that she minded. This felt like a wonderful dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Only this wasn't a dream, it was real life. She finally got to feel the body that she had been drooling over. Right now, he was hers, and she was going to make the most of it. 

Her curious hands creeped along his captivating body while they explored each other’s mouths, dragging her hands up his torso from underneath his shirt. He pulled away from her soft lips to trail wet kisses from her cheek to her neck. “Not shy anymore huh?” She couldn't be shy. Her desire for him had completely taken over. “I really need you right now Roman,” She pants out. 

“Bedroom?” She nods and takes his hand in hers, leading the way to her bedroom. The sway of her hips only made Roman more aroused, as he silently admired her body from behind.

They enter her bedroom and she doesn't get a chance to close the door before being pulled into his arms again, temporarily hoisting her in the air to lay her on the spacious bed. He pulls her into another messy kiss, setting his focus on getting rid of their bothersome clothes. He quickly tore his shirt from his body and she did the same with hers. Their lips connected again, moving in harmony. He started to make his way down her body, but she squeezed his shoulders, signaling him to stop. “I wanna make you feel good first.” Roman was surprised to say the least. He kissed her tummy and replied, “Are you sure?” She gives him a confident nod, with those big doe eyes and her beautiful smile. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” “Let’s switch places.”

She scooted to the side, giving him room to lay down on the bed. She crawled down to his waist, tugging both his sweatpants and boxers down. His dick springs out of his pants, finally free from cloth restraints. Her eyes locked with his before lowering down to lick the underside of him; from his balls to his mushroom tip. A wad of spit drips from her mouth and lands on his length, using her hand to lather him up. His soft hums let her know that he was feeling good, and she was determined to make him feel a whole lot better. 

Her juicy lips start at his tip, giving small kitten licks before taking the tip in her mouth. Her warm mouth felt so good on his dick. He didn't know that Imani was this nasty. She gives him kisses up and down his shaft before taking him in her mouth again. 

She didn’t waste any time trying to tease him. He was big, and filled mer mouth well, but it’s nothing she's never handled before. Before she continued, the warmth of her mouth left him once again. “Can you record this?” Just when he thought she couldn't get more nasty. 

“Record?” She nodded her head. “Only if you’re comfortable.” “I’m more than comfortable,” Roman says, while reaching into his sweatpants pocket. He grabs his phone and opens the camera app, pressing record. “It’s recording, baby.” 

She smiles at the camera, curling her fingers around the base of his dick and tapping him against her tongue. She takes him in her mouth again for the final time, keeping her hand put at the base. She bobs her head slowly, swiveling her head from left to right. 

She keeps moving slowly, making sure to fit all she can in her mouth. Her hand that stayed curled around his base, moved in juxtaposition, stroking the rest of him that her mouth couldn't get to. “Goddamn baby, that mouth feels so good. I need that mouth around my dick all the time.” She moans in response, giving him vibrations that made him feel oh so good. She had him moaning and groaning. She didn't mind that at all. She got a big ego boost that he was so vocal from her mouth working its magic. She took note of every moan, every twitch, and any reaction he made. Right now, she was focused on his pleasure. 

His grip on his phone tightened, trying his best to keep his composure. She moved her head faster, still bobbing up and down, and using her hand to stroke his remaining inches. “Ahh s-shit mama, you keep sucking my dick like that and imma cum in your mouth.” She looks at him, already staring at her every move while she’s giving him euphoria like pleasure. She moans around his dick again, feeling her panties dampen. Her other hand massaged his balls lightly. Her slurping sounds made him close to coming. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Those innocent eyes staring into him as he recorded her doing such lewd things. He tried his best not to tangle his hands in her hair and fuck her mouth full of him. But her mouth felt so good, and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth. He couldn’t help himself when his hands disappeared into her hair, planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her mouth. She put her hands behind her back, letting him use her as he pleased. His thrusts were quick, but soft, his balls slapping against her chin. “Oh fuck! I’m coming mama, ooh I'm comin’.” He kept her head steady while coming deep in her throat, and she accepted with jubilation. 

She bobbed her head a few more times, trying her best to overstimulate him the most she can, until his hand grabs her chin, lifting her up. “Slow down princess,” He says, ending the recording. She crawls up to meet him, giving him a quick passionate kiss. “See how good you taste?” Roman chuckles at her boldness. “Your turn. Lie down,” He says, trying to sit up, but fails due to her pushing him back down on the bed. “I need that dick right now daddy.”

“You don’t want me to eat that pussy?” She runs her hand through her messy hair. “God yes I do, but I need you to fuck me right now.” Her eyes did more pleading than her words. 

“I wanna record this too,” she says, looking down at his chest, tracing the intricate tattoo. He feels around the bed, finally grabbing the phone and reopening the camera app. “Can you prop it up somewhere? I want you to be able to touch me.” “Already on it baby.” He climbed back further on your bed, propping the phone up against the lamp on the nightstand. While he did that, she slid off her shorts and panties, throwing them behind her. He pressed record again, and instructed her to adjust herself so the camera could capture everything. 

His hands landed on her ass as they both observed themself. His hands felt so good kneading her ass, and she saw his eyes drinking in every part of her body. He couldn't keep his hands off of her curvaceous body, and he didn't want to. “You like it?” Her soft hands massaged his shoulders, making him groan softly. “I love it baby, love this ass.” An unexpected slap to her ass made her jump. “You sound so good, daddy.” His hands move her hips along his dick, grinding her body against his. 

“How long have you been thinking about this?” She shies away from his gaze, a sudden flash of embarrassment runs through her body. She had forgotten about all of her feelings of distress and nervousness and realized that she was running on arousal and adrenaline. “A-a couple of months.” He lifts her hips and grabs his length, rubbing the tip along her slit. A few rubs up and down her slickness before impaling her on his dick. They moan simultaneously, relishing in the mind numbing pleasure. “You been thinking about taking this dick baby?” She gives him small head nods, still captured by the feeling of him inside of her. His hands cupped her chin, turning her head to the direction of the phone, steadily recording them. His hands were full of her ass, moving her up and down his shaft slowly. His unsteady breaths and her elongated moans were harmonious. “Go ‘head then. Bounce that ass on my dick.”

Her eyes focused on him as she steadied herself, her hands placed on either side of his head. She throws her ass back, his thighs catching it every time. His eyes were still glued to the phone, watching her beautiful body on top of him. But it wouldn’t be long until he faced her again, her soft titties hanging in front of his face. She had daydreamed about fucking Roman, and she was finally doing it. It gave her confidence knowing that he couldn't keep his hands off of her body. Her facial expression told her exactly how she was feeling. It was almost overwhelming how sexy she was. Beautiful smile, sexy body, paired with addicting moans that made him want to fuck her all night long. 

“Mmm~ look at you taking daddy’s dick. You’re doing so good,” Roman pants, grabbing at her breasts. His gentle praises and gruff voice was enough to make her cum. His dominating presence, his words, his touch. This man had her mind running laps. Even though he wasn’t putting in any effort, he was hitting all the right spots.

Her words were slurred, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open spewing salacious moans. Her hips slowed down, the constant rhythm created by her ass and his thighs meeting no longer lasted while she hid in the crook of his neck. Her body was decorated with a sheet of sweat that didn’t take away from her golden hue. “Look at me.” She rested on her elbows, locking her eyes onto his. Their faces were laced with lust, an unsatisfied want for each other. 

His strong arms caged her in, preventing her from squirming or escaping. She was still catching her breath while Roman planted his feet on the bed again. He places a tender kiss on her cheek before fucking up into her. She grabbed on to any part of his body that could, her eyes fluttering shut. A harsh slap to her ass makes her scream in pleasure. “I said look at me,” Roman says, demanding her full attention.

“Ohhh- my god! You feel so fucking g-good!” Roman loved watching her unravel. How she screamed for glory while he fucked her. God, he could make this his favorite hobby. Making her cum over and over again. “Mhm- fuckk- keep talking to me baby.” Her mind was foggy. She could only focus on one thing right now, how good he was dicking her down. Roman was making her feel so good. She looked at his phone propped up on the nightstand again to see their reflection. Her ass rippled from his hard strokes. That sight alone had her ready to cum. “Shhit! I’m finna cum on that big ass dick!” “Yeah? You finna cum?”

Her nails dug into his broad shoulders, feeling a knot build up in her stomach. “Cum with me Imani, let me feel you cum around my dick.”

Her eyes shut as she came, her orgasm hitting like a dam breaking, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His hips slowed down, but still gave her deep strokes, coming deep inside her. High pitched moans and deep grunts filled the room. His hands lazily grab her hips, allowing her to move again. She reached to grab the phone and ended the video, dropping the phone somewhere as she laid limp against his chest. His thumbs worked small circles as they both caught their breath. “I’m gonna take a shower when I get up, wanna join me?” Imani hears him chuckle, still working small circles into her hips. “Nah, we’re not done. I gotta eat that pussy, Imani.”

If these were the punishments she got for losing in spades, maybe losing wasn't so bad after all.

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2

[jeonride]

be my americano

SUMMARY; san already had enough of americano and he needed something else to keep him up all night- which was you, his wonderful wife.

FEATURING; san x afab!reader

GENRE; fluff, established relationship, marriage au, husband!san x wife afab!reader, non-idol au, smut (MINORS DNI)

WARNINGS; voyeurism, use of pet names, a lot of praises, fingering, nipple play, oral (f receiving), grinding

WORD COUNT; 2.4 k

NOTES FROM KALA; made this for my lovely san stan bestiee choy ! (@chokchokk) it took me a little bit too long to post this (i'm sorry about this), hope you enjoy this shitty smutty short fic of san sjsjsj

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

The scent of americano greets your sense when you walked into the dining room. It is already 09.00 pm now, and you can find your husband— Choi san, with his black hair disheveled, sipping a cup of americano while his eyes focus to stare at the laptop screen. You suggest that he is checking emails right now before finally he can sleep peacefully. It always bothers him whenever he finds unread emails, sometimes makes him anxious and you don't ask much, already knew about his behavior.

You rest your hand on his shoulder, squeeze the surface gently and you can sense how the corners of his lips create such a sweet smile at your action. He turns his head to look at you, then his dark eyes flickering down, staring at your lips. Then he leans closer, and kisses the bottom of your lip lightly��� as if he was just trying to tell you how your presence makes him feel less alone while replying to emails from his colleagues.

"Can't sleep?" his fingers playing with your hair, while asking you with his eyebrows furrowed. Gets worried because at this hour, you are usually asleep.

The bitterness of americano he drinks linger in your sense. His left hand reaches out to embrace your waist, pulling you closer to him so he can lean his head to the side of your body. Your body always feels warm next to him. The warmth of your body and the soft beats of your heart near his ear can calm him down.

You stroke his hair with your fingers. His black hair still feels damp because he just showered. You do not care much about it, you love the scent of his shampoo too much, so you plant a kiss on top of his head. And San, can't hold the urge to smile wider because of it.

"I see. You like my shampoo aren't you?"

You giggle. "Way too much, i think?"

"No wonder i came home with my shampoo bottle empty." his eyes roll, acting as if he is annoyed but the fact you use his shampoo because you love his scent, melts his heart away, though.

He pinches your tummy and it makes you wriggle from him while giggling until your eyes look exactly like the crescent moon on the night sky. However, San's face beams at the sight of it. Your cute giggle and your smile look enthralling for him, like you are the most precious thing he has and he would protect you at all cost just so you can show that captivating smile of yours.

You always look so beautiful in his eyes, and he will always mention you in every beautiful thing he has ever seen in his life. It is the way you smile at him, he can't explain how you can always steal his breath with just a smile, even though he has seen it too many times, but the effect will never fade. You always give him butterflies.

And, oh! the way your silk nightgown hugged your body perfectly, you are breath-taking to him. San is 100% sure he would love to spend all of his nights with the view of you like this, even though he always can't keep his hands to himself and would rip that nightgown off of your body. It is always fascinating to him whenever his big hand can drop your nightgown to the floor gracefully.

Oh, he loves your nightgown.

But he loves it more when the nightgown comes off to reveal your perfect curves to his eyes.

Also, the yellowish lighting from the kitchen lamp makes your soft skin look glowing to San's eyes, like pearls glowing in the reflection of the sunlight. Oh, how badly he wants to cradle your luscious body right now.

"How pretty," he murmurs. Doesn't realize if his thoughts formed into words that slip away from his mouth. He is gazing up and down, can't even control his eyes.

"Oh, Sannie." you laugh it off. "You should say it to yourself." you give a few pats on his head, and his eyes close while humming in approval. Love the way you spoil him like a kitten. "I'm gonna make tea, you want some?"

He shakes his head, hinting "No, there's no need" through his gaze at you. You nod, before walking back to the kitchen counter to make some tea. You like drinking tea before bed, for some reason. It's been a habit since college and San has memorized it.

However, San seems like he can't look away from your body, as if you would turn into ash if he doesn't keep his eyes on your figure. You can feel as if his gaze can strip you naked even though you can't see his expression. You know, what you're wearing now is his favorite nightgown, with his favorite color that always manages to make him crazy over you. You do this on purpose, though. Let's see how long San can last.

His eyes locked to stare into your thighs, the bounces of your ass when you try to grab sugar on the corner of the kitchen counter, and how you tie your hair with the rubber that wrapped around the wrist of your hand before— giving him a full shot of your beautiful neck. Oh, if he stares carefully, he can see your thin panties, and your pussy lips peeking out at him because the nightgown is just too short to cover your body.

San gulped forcefully, trying to think clearly by looking back at the series of emails he hasn't replied to. Then he takes another sip of americano, hoping that the bitter liquid will neutralize the way he breathes even though his grip on the americano cup is too tight, as if he is desperate to pull your nightgown off your body so that he can see all the curves of your beautiful body with clarity.

You cleared your throat, "Sannie, i see that you've been drinking too many americanos lately."

"I- yeah. Got a lot to do so i think americano will be the best choice to keep me up all night." at this moment, San doesn't know why he is stuttering and his body tenses up, all nervous when you turned your head to look at him. Well, guess it is because he worries that you might find the lust in his dark eyes.

Don't ask him why, because San can be embarrassed too, sometimes! He might dominate you in bed, does the brat-taming with the fucking stern behavior of his, but on casual moments like this, he is a bit shy to be the first one to initiate a make-out session.

"Don't drink too much caffeine, Sannie. You make me worried when i saw the bin full of americano cups," you said, while your hand stirred the tea so that the sugar melts together with the warm drink.

"Not only americano can keep you up all night, baby." the tone in your voice becomes soften. Meanwhile, San started to stand up from his seat, already unable to resist the urge to approach and hug you from behind. Your lips carve a triumphant smile as his two sturdy arms wrap around your waist. But a second later, you gulp as you feel San's hardening down there.

"And what is that, baby?" he's mimicking the way you call him "baby", you know that. Now he starts to tease, and you realize that his hips are moving to rub his hardened cock against your ass. You bite your lower lip, trying your best to not let out any sound.

"I— uh, i think—"

"Oh, baby. I don't think tea can make your way of speaking stutter," he whispers.

Your body is completely tense now. how could it not be? san starts rubbing his knee against your clothed cunt, but right against your clit. His movements feel like electric shocks, activating something inside you. Slowly, you can feel your cheeks heating up as San stimulates the most sensitive area of your body.

His hands that were previously on your lower body slowly traveled up, finding their own way to gently squeeze your breasts, then his fingers formed a circular pattern on your nipples. He smiles deviously when you let out a moan that sounds sultry, then starts to lick your earlobe while whispering, "Let it out, baby. I want to hear your pretty sounds."

"S-sannie," you're whimpering, body leans to his chest as your hand grip the wrist of his hands— nails digging into his skin.

"Yes, baby? I'm here. Need something?"

How his knee keeps working to rub your clit and his two big hands squeeze your breasts while pinching your nipples, successfully making you lose your mind. Your breath is caught in your throat, unable to articulate what you want to say clearly. Instead, the only thing you do is spread your legs for him, so that he can be more flexible in providing stimulants.

"Sannie, fuck— it feels so—" your breath hitches.

"Good?" he smirks, while keeps licking your earlobe in the most sensual way. "Say it, baby. Or have your brain clouded so you can't speak properly?"

"I, fuck— need your tongue." your voice gets shaky, whimpering under his touch— signaling that you need more of him.

San chuckles, squeezing your breasts harshly. "That's not how i taught you to ask. You forgot something."

You turn your body around, facing San with big eyes that look pleading, trying to soften San's heart. "Please?" you beg. A beg that sounds so desperate and needy of your husband's touch, and San really can't control himself now, as he feels his cock twitching in his pants, getting painfully hard.

He cradles your cheek, kissing your lips softly even as he feels the lust building up, he is trying not to be rough tonight. Because he knows, it seems that tonight you are looking for his attention and just want to be served by your husband who has been too busy to pay attention to you lately. He realizes he has neglected to pay attention to you because he has been too busy. So, tonight is about your pleasure. His wonderful wife's pleasure.

San's other hand travels back to your clit, still covered by your panties, rubbing it gently and then pinching it. You're already wet, and you can feel your slick slide down onto your panties.

"Oh, baby." he coos. "My baby is all worked up for me."

He breaks the kiss, only to stare at your blushing face. He wants to see how you are giving up all power to your husband, despite the fact that you looked like you were flirting with him in the first place while wearing his favorite nightgown.

You turn your face away, unconsciously biting the bottom of your lip. The low laugh that escapes San's mouth makes your whole body feel goosebumps. Then your husband's forefinger grabs your chin, forcing you to look back at him. "Eyes on me," he says with a dominance that feels so intense. Suddenly you feel the temperature in the kitchen rise a few degrees because indeed, San's figure makes your body feel like it's on fire.

Your face is turning towards him, but your eyes still can't focus on looking into San's eyes. That action makes San grin, "Are you feeling shy?"

You nod weakly, then move closer to him and hide your face in the crook of San's neck. He can feel how the surface of your cheek feels so hot against his skin. Your husband laughs again, a sincere laugh that escapes because his chest feels warm. For San, your behavior now is adorable, making his heart melt like ice cream in summer. You succeeded in making him always fall in love with everything about you.

"Come on, baby. I want to see your beautiful face," he said. "Let's talk about things that can make me up all night besides the americano."

Fuck about americano, San speaks to himself. He knows that you're signaling that you're the one who can keep him up all night, but he wants to hear it from your mouth. Wanted to hear filthy things escape your mouth, with your voice that always sounds so innocent to San's ears.

"I— i think, i can replace the americano. You know, in regards to keeping you up all night..."

So with that, San lifts you up, sitting you on the kitchen counter, his warm palms rubbing your thighs, then slowly spreading your legs. Your body stiffens under his touch and he soothes you with his soft tone of voice, "Relax for me, baby."

And how can you relax when San looks at you as if he's a man starving for you? As if he can greedily devour all of you, as if he wants to touch every inch of your body that has been completely his since five years ago? You really feel weak and helpless if San has behave like this, as if you are the prey of a predator.

When you open your legs perfectly for San, your husband quickly lowers your panties down to your calves, takes them off gently, his face comes closer, then he blows his warm breath on your cunt. Making your cunt clenching for nothing, and he smiles triumphantly at the sight of it.

"Want my fingers, or my mouth?"

You don't even think, reply to his question quickly, "Both."

Without saying much, San goes back to playing with your clit, smiling a little when he sees your cheeks blush. He licks your lower lip, only to make you moan under his touch. Then his mouth slowly makes its way to your cunt, his tongue licking your clit, replacing the role of his fingers. His digits start teasing your entrance, which is already wet because you feel the need for his touch.

"Sannie..." you moan. "Put it in." you plea, your voice sounding hoarse from the heat. And San just smiles back down there, and you can feel that his pretty lips are smiling derisively at your plea.

"Don't worry, I've decided to stay up all night for you, wife." his deep voice becomes soften, eyes full of adoration toward you.

Oh, now San is sure that he will stay up all night.

This time, not because of the americano.

© jeonride 2023. Please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere! All rights reserved. Pics to @holyseonghwa, pretty divider by @benkeibear! <333

[heartfullofleeches]

i just thought of the most weirdest yan ever.

A goldfish yan

A yan that is literally so aloof, dumb, quiet, wide eyed and says 'huh?' a lot

They still love reader a lot of course theyre just seeing shapes ans colors behind their eyelids for the first time

"Why won't this fish do anything?"

Big crowd today. Noisy - too. They don't like it. Too many flashing lights, and people trying to force food in their mouth when they aren't hungry at all. They don't like it - not at all, but they can't go home. Too big to fit in their old bowl, or even pass the front door. They miss home.

"Ripley!"

A loud voice parts the crowd as a figure pushes through; light returning to the goldfish's dull eyes as the human marches up to their tank and hooks their arms around their scaly neck. In the past their human could pick them up with one arm. Now, they struggling just to get their arms over their broad shoulders. Ripley rests their chin atop your head as one of their webbed hands reaches around you.

"I warned them not to wake you up until I got here. You gonna be a good guppy for me like always?"

The goldfish blinks. "Kay."

Who would've thought that little fish you took in all those years ago would grow up to become three times your size. All the love you gave, and every treats you snuck them likely played a role in their growth. Unable to house them, you made a deal with a local aquarium that would be able to provide them with everything they needed. It tore you both up inside to part, but with your new job you could see them whenever you pleased. It was the only way to get them to eat, or do much of anything besides blankly staring at visitors.

A hand grips your shoulder; brass rings cutting into your skin through your shirt. You wince from the weight behind it as your spun on your heels to face a red-faced visitor. Ripley's attention shifts to them. Their head cocks awkwardly to one side.

"Huh?"

"Finally. I've been waiting all morning for this thing to do something and all its done is stare at me. I'm on a time sensitive schedule here.

You force a smile and their hand from your shoulder. "I'm sorry - Riptide is just a little shy when I'm not around. If you, all of you, can give us about a half hour - I'm sure they'll be ready."

Majority of the crowd disburses at your ask. You look back at Ripley. "I'm going to go get your ball, and change into my wetsuit - then we can play, okay?"

The goldfish blinks again, lips posed in a small smile. "Kay!"

You walk off, leaving the disgruntled guest behind. They stand alone in front of Ripley's unlocked tank.

"Mean to Y/n....."

They look up at the large fish. "Oh, you can talk now?"

"Mean to Y/n...." The fish repeats. "I'll show you a fun trick. Here."

-

As you walk out of the staff lounge, a visitor comes up and taps you on your unbruised shoulder. You turn to face them. "Hello, how can I help you today?"

"I was just wondering. I've seen a few sources online referring to that goldfish you call Ripley as Ripper. May I ask why that is?"

"oh....well, Ripley doesn't take too kindly to people that pick on me. They got that nickname after they nearly drowned another guest because they threw a glass bottle at me, but due to them starting it - it mostly went under the radar. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back over to them."

Walking back to their tank, Ripley swims circles around the perimeter as you climb up and jump in. They let go of whatever was in their hands to scoop you up in both arms - a single brass ring floating to the bottom of the tank.

They knock their large head against yours. "Good guppy... Me."

[spookyjuicefiction]

Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 1

Got an idea for an Astarion fic that I just need to start working through and here is as good a place as any. Part 1 of ?

_______________________________________

He had been wrong about her. And he hated being wrong.

He had seen her on the nautiloid, stuffed into a pod and infected with a tadpole just as he had been. He recognized her when he spotted her trudging up the path toward him away from the crash site. He himself had just clawed his way out of the wreckage and was getting his bearings when she and the she-elf emerged from the smoke. An easy target, he thought, quickly preparing a ruse to trap her. She fell right into it, and he was ready to kill her - that is, until their parasites connected.

When he agreed to team up with her and Shadowheart, it was because he planned to use them as human shields should he meet any attackers. Sure, they had the common goal of finding a healer to remove the parasite, but they certainly had no value as serious allies as far as he could tell. Even only being a vampire spawn, they were slow and weak compared to him. Not to mention stupid. He was the obvious choice to lead the pack.

Then why was it that he was standing at the edge of the campsite alone, scowling to himself as the rest of his merry band of companions passed around a bottle of wine and enjoyed each others' company? And why was she the one in the middle, with every adoring eye on her?

Yes, he had certainly underestimated her. Within hours she had every one of them wrapped around her magical fingers, and within a few days they had all deferred to her as their de-facto leader when decisions needed to be made. She seemed to have a gift for reading people, knowing exactly how to charm and persuade them. Her skills of deception even rivaled his own, though he was loathe to admit to his admiration of them.

His pointed ear pricked toward the campfire as new sounds arose; she - Tav - had started plucking a tune on her lute and leading the group in song. He rolled his eyes. Of course she sings, too. How irritating.

It was truly annoying how easily she gained the others' favors. Wasn't he supposed to be the one so well-versed in flattery and charisma? Yet she deigned to engage with them in ways that made his skin crawl, like listening to Wyll's obviously dramatized renditions of his escapades as The Blade of Frontiers. Or allowing Gale to ramble on about his cat - his tressym, as the obnoxious wizard was so fond of correcting them. Shadowheart seemed to like her just because Tav left her alone and didn't ask her too many questions, but chuckled along at all of her jokes at the others' expense. She had even gained Lae'zel's trust after asking her for fighting tips and electing her as the group battlemaster in case of combat. And Karlach took nothing at all - the two have been practically joined at the hip (from a fire-safe distance, of course) since the tiefling joined their camp. She must be hiding something, he thought. No one can be that good at gaining peoples' trust without good reason. He would know.

She tried to read him, too. She made little jokes and comments under her breath only for him to hear, trying to be conspiratorial. She complemented him often, trying to appeal to his vanity. But most obnoxiously, she went toe to toe with him in battles of wit. Any time he threw loaded grenade of snark and vitriol at one of their companions to entertain himself, she threw it right back. It was infuriating, being undermined and bested at his favorite game. That was probably why the others' liked her so much, because she was fond of shutting him up and making him seethe quietly in the back of the line. Nobody else liked him.

Good, he thought. Best to go it alone anyway. Never needed a friend before, don't need one now. As soon as I get this bastard out of my eye, I'll be gone faster than a rat in Cazador's dungeon.

The thought of rats unpleasantly reminded him of his thirst. Typically, he waited until the others were asleep to go off and hunt so they wouldn't suspect the truth about his condition. But seeing as they were all singing (except Lae'zel, of course), he guessed no one would notice if he stalked off.

He took no joy in his kill tonight, feeling grumpy as he continued to brood over his distaste for Tav. Two hundred years thinking of nothing but Cazador and he was finally free, only to spend every moment bemoaning his luck at being stuck with the spellcaster. He drained the boar of its blood and left it carelessly on the side of the path, electing to wander around for the remaining nighttime hours rather than returning to camp. He was too restless to trance anyway. And she was there. She probably conjures butterflies in her sleep and dreams rainbows, the foul beast.

"The hells is that?" asked Karlach, squinting at a large lump on the side of the path.

"Looks like a boar," said Wyll, going over to toe it with his boot, Tav close behind. "It looks... it looks like it's been drained of blood. There's no stain around it. I can't even see a wound."

"That's odd," remarked Shadowheart, quirking an eyebrow. Astarion shifted on his feet, agitated. Shit. He should have taken more care to cover his kill last night. Looking around, he started as he realized Tav was staring right at him.

"Oh, who cares, it's only a boar," he said impatiently, looking quickly away from her, unnerved. "Surely there are more interesting things to investigate. Look, I see goblins mounting an ambush through the gate up ahead. Let's go and kill something." He stalked off, not waiting for a reply and removing his daggers from their sheaths.

"Something on your mind?"

FUCK. Astarion couldn't remember the last time someone had snuck up on him. He had been pacing in a clearing just outside the camp, wondering if Tav somehow knew his secret. He was debating with himself whether he should abandon the group and set out on his own when her voice - the last voice he wanted to hear - startled him. Rounding on her with daggers drawn and his hair standing on end, he fixed her with his most murderous expression.

"Do you make a habit on intruding on people's private contemplations?" he hissed angrily.

"You know better than anyone the advantage of catching someone off-guard," she replied coolly, folding her arms and shifting her weight.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm as he lowered his weapons. He loathed her completely in that moment.

"Only wondering where you were. Looted some good food for supper from those goblins, if you're hungry." She tilted her head. "Or perhaps you've already eaten today."

They regarded each other cautiously as her words hung in the air. He was certain that she knew. Was she afraid he would hurt her, or the others? She could tell them his secret, and they would all turn on him. So what did she want in exchange for her silence? Was she shaking him down?

"I'm not hungry," he replied slowly. Slowly, he raised his empty hands, daggers now sheathed. A gesture of surrender. "I'm happy to keep watch while you all eat. I will ensure no harm comes to anyone."

She narrowed her eyes, seeming to understand the duality of his words. He was promising not to drink from them. After a beat, she replied with a stiff nod. He allowed his tense shoulders to drop. She was promising not to tell them. For now.

Satisfied at their new agreement, Astarion spent the next 2 days coming up with a new plan to manipulate Tav. With her being the the leader of their group, it seemed prudent to ensure that she would protect him should the others begin to turn on him. Much as he despised her, he conceded that she was his best chance to finding a cure for the parasite, and thus his best chance for true freedom from Cazador. If she was already willing to hide his condition from the others, it would not take too much more effort on his part to get her to play completely into his hand. All he had to do was try a little seduction. Even she couldn't best him at that game.

But even has his plan took shape, he could feel his thirst, an ever-present beast clawing up his throat, undermining him. It made him irritable, weak, and unfocused. Instead of charming her, he more often found himself arguing with her, stabbing her with vicious insults about her sorcery, her class, and even her looks. He didn't really even mean them; she had proven herself an adept spellcaster in both battle and everyday application, she seemed to come from a fine, middle-class family in Baldur's Gate, and her looks were perfectly adequate to the average person. Not beautiful enough to tempt Cazador, maybe, but enough that Astarion caught Gale's eyes lingering a little too long a little too often. For some reason, Astarion found that infuriating.

He had lobbed a particularly nasty mockery at her earlier in the day after she had insisted that they all run in to a burning building to rescue some helpless fool, so he was quite surprised to find her clearing her throat outside of his tent that evening.

"Come to shoot a firebolt at me since you didn't quite singe all of my eyebrows off this afternoon?" he inquired bitterly.

She rolled her eyes. "Can I come in?"

This was unusual. No one had ever asked to enter his tent before.

"I suppose," he replied cautiously, and she shouldered past him through the flap. He followed her back inside and she turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively.

"You've been a real arse these last days." She said it with a finality that left no room for argument. He poked at her anyway.

"Well, thank you," he broke into a smile and a shallow bow. "You should see me when I don't have a parasite in my head."

"I've had enough," she continued, as though he hadn't interrupted. "This ends now."

"What are you going to do?" he hissed, joking manner aside as he closed the distance between them threateningly. She was going to tell the others. "You'll be dead before you reach the door."

But as usual, the moment he had the upper hand, she pulled the rug out from under him. "I'd rather you not drink so much as to kill me, since I'm offering it out of the kindness of my heart."

He never could quite get his footing with her.

"Excuse me?"

"If you drink some of my blood, will you stop being such a devil's shite?"

It took considerable effort for Astarion to clamp his jaw shut and rearrange his features to mask his shock.

"You want me to drink your blood?"

"Want is a strong word. But I'm willing to make a small sacrifice for the good of the group if it'll shut you up long enough for us to find this Halsin without your moaning and whining."

"I do not moan and whine," he protested petulantly. "And I absolutely do not promise to shut up. But it will almost certainly improve my mood drastically." He licked his lips at the thought of it, eyeing her pulse point.

"Very well then. I suppose I'd better lay down in case I pass out."

Astarion watched motionlessly as she lowered herself onto his bedroll and swept her hair off her neck. His body seemed unable to move, yet his every instinct told him to tear her open right then and there. At the same time, the sight of her on his bedroll made him feel slightly nauseous - not because of her, but something akin to shame stirred in his abdomen. Just another victim for him to ruin. It was almost too easy. So why the sudden... guilt?

"Can we get on with it? I don't much fancy falling asleep in your bedroll."

Composing himself, Astarion dropped to his knees with a flourish and bent his body over hers. It was horribly intimate, and he could sense her discomfort. He lavished in it.

"Comfortable, darling?" he smirked at her and winked, and she rolled her eyes.

"If you accidentally kill me, you know that Karlach will make sure you burn alive. So, not a drop more than you need."

"Of course, my sweet. No need to worry. Only a teensy little sip and I'll be out of your hair."

She looked like she didn't believe a word, but she turned her head with a sigh, exposing her neck to him.

"It'll only hurt a pinch," he breathed as he lowered himself to her pulse point. He was struck for a moment by her scent - violet and plums and something smoky - before he bared his teeth. He felt her take a breath, and then he sunk his fangs in.

They moaned almost in unison, her in pain, and him in pleasure, as he began to drink. Gods, it was perfect, even better than he had ever imagined it could be. He could've sworn that her blood tasted like violet and plums as it splashed over his tongue. She was clutching his arms for support, and he felt his hand clamp down on her hip to hold her in place. But she didn't try to get up, laying stiffly beneath him as he suckled her lifeblood.

He could kill her. It would be so easy. She would feel like she was falling asleep, and he could drink her as dry as the boar on the side of the road. The image of it rose in his mind; her, pallid, bloodless, slack-jawed. No more stupid singing. No more butterfly dreams.

He retracted his fangs from her quickly, as though she had burned him suddenly. Her grip on his arms had weakened significantly, and her head seemed to loll on her neck.

"Oh dear. Don't pass out, darling."

He scooped his hand under her cheek and turned her face toward him. Her eyes were placid and unfocused, but she was blinking like she was trying to maintain consciousness. Already she looked pale. He bit back the resurgence of the guilty nausea and pulled a pillow under her head.

"Just a moment, love. We'll get you all sorted." His tone was light and airy as he rummaged in his pack for a healing potion, but he was more unnerved than he would've liked to admit.

"There we are." He uncorked the stopper and held her head up, tipping the potion down her throat slowly so as not to choke her. After a few deep breaths, she brought her hand up to her forehead and rubbed her temple.

"I said 'not too much', you arsewipe," her voice was weak, but clearly irritable.

"I can't help that you're so delicious," he cooed, relieved that the potion seemed to recover her somewhat. He noticed that her fingers were trembling, and a shiver wreaked through her whole body. Sighing, he pulled a thick blanket up around her. Her eyes on him were daggers, but she didn't push it off. "Just relax here for a bit. I won't be sleeping anytime soon, after that. It was quite... invigorating."

She eyed him curiously. "You say it like you've never done it before."

Sharp as ever. How did she always know?

"I... haven't. You're my first. My first... thinking creature, that is." He smirked at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "I bet you didn't guess I was a virgin."

She didn't take the bait. "So what did you eat?" Her fingers had stilled against her temple; he had her full attention now. He didn't like how her scrutiny made him feel. Somehow, even though she was so weak she couldn't raise her own head, he was the one feeling vulnerable.

"Oh, rats, flies, roaches, whatever one could find on hand 'round Cazador's dungeons," he said with forced nonchalance, examining his fingernails. "Cazador is - was - my master. I am his vampire spawn." He couldn't bear to look at her, sure he would see pity in her eyes that would make him want to claw his skin off. "How did you know about my condition, by the way?"

"You aren't as subtle as you think you are." His head snapped up at that, insulted. "And I've spent some time studying the condition. One of the guildmasters was hoping to imbibe a potion with some of the properties of vampire blood."

"To what end?" Astarion asked, curiosity piqued.

This time it was she who smirked. "The official story was that the research was focused on creating a more potent healing potion, since vampires are known to have such rapid regeneration. However," she pushed herself up gently on the pillows, "I always suspected they were hoping to create a potion of immortality."

"Well, that would be something," Astarion mused. "However did they get a vampire's blood to experiment with?"

"They didn't. It was all theoretical. I was trained to learn to recognize a vampire if I spotted one, with the hope of obtaining its blood for the research. With permission, or... by force." She looked as though the idea left a bad taste in her mouth. His face must have given his thoughts away as well, since she looked at him and chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your blood. I doubt it would have worked anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well," she sat up further, the color beginning to return to her cheeks, "for one, I don't believe vampirism works in the way most mages think it does. It's not some kind of magical curse imbued with some mysterious arcane properties. I think it's... more like an illness. Like a plague, that can only be passed one way."

"Well, it certainly feels like a curse," Astarion intoned bitterly. "And if it's an illness, I've never heard of a cure."

She shrugged. "It's only a guess. But it is a little exciting to meet one up close, after all my research." She was smiling at him earnestly now, again making him feel uncomfortable.

"You're a strange creature. I just drank your blood and you're excited. One might think you have... odd predilections." He grinned wickedly at her.

She chuckled. "How are you feeling now? Less cranky?"

Astarion took stock of his body as he climbed to his feet. "I feel strong. I feel..." he trailed off a moment, searching for the right word. "Happy."

Tav clamored to her feet as well, with far less grace. She wove unsteadily for a moment, and he caught her waist to ensure she didn't pull his tent down in a fall. They were standing quite close again, and he felt his guard drop for a moment.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "for trusting me. I... this is a gift, you know. I won't forget it."

"I suspect neither will I," she murmured, smiling at him once more. "Well, good night then."

"Sweet dreams."

He watched her walk slowly and tiredly back to her tent on the other side of the clearing, head reeling with everything that had just happened. She had offered herself to him, but not in the way he was used to. She had offered her blood, and she had trusted him to take it. But why? What is there for her to gain?

She wanted him placated, clearly. Perhaps she was as annoyed by him as he was by her and really did just want to shut him up. Maybe she was mounting her own manipulation plan, forcing him to be dependent on her blood to do her bidding. He hated knowing that if she offered again, he would greedily accept. But what reason did she have to trust him so easily not to kill her, when all he had done since they met was insult her? What was she reading about him that he didn't even know himself? The questions plagued him as he hunted that night, wishing every sip of animal blood was hers. He had a taste for it now, and it ruined him. If he had thought about her constantly before, he was doomed now.

As he lay down in his bedroll to trance, he raked his hand over his face. Then, he began to laugh bitterly. All around him, the only thing he could sense was aroma of violet and plums.

Part 2

[gatitties]

Hot water

─ Starwhats (separately) x fem!reader

─ Summary: you like hot showers and you decide to take a shower (or bath) with them

─ Warnings: none

Luffy

─ Does this guy even take showers?

─ No, that's why you're dragging him to take a shower with you.

─ You let the water run, after a couple of minutes it is to your liking and you get under the shower.

─ You have to pull Luffy to get him in and, oh boy, it's quite a show he won't stop stretching out his arm the more you pull him not to get in there.

─ At first he makes a grimace, not only because the water weakens him a bit, but because of how hot it is.

─ It doesn't bother him after a while, this guy has been exposed to so many things that he gets used to the temperature fast.

─ Get ready for a lot of chaos in the shower, he can't sit still for five minutes. "Luffy stops juggling the shampoo bottles!"

─ Which is partly an advantage, because to keep him entertained you ask him to rub your back applying the soap.

─ You decide it's time to stop when you turn around to see him trying to chew on the bar soap. "why can't I eat it? It looks edible and it smells good." "Yeah, no, I'll have Sanji cook you something."

Zoro

─ Zoro showers more than Luffy but still…

─ So you just drag him by the ear to take a shower with you.

─ He doesn't complain like Luffy and he doesn't make a big show, he just has that shitty face when you force him to do something he doesn't want, but since it's you he can't refuse.

─ This man has endured a lot of pain, be it from battles, from his captain, or from overdoing his training.

─ It was just very hot water, he could take it.

─ At least that's what he thought, the first drops made him tense his jaw. "My God Zoro you are more tense than your relationship with Sanji." "I'm not."

─ But he's still a strong man, so he bites his tongue until he gets used to it, which doesn't take long.

─ Now all that remains is to enjoy while you take a relaxing shower.

Nami

─ Quality time with this girl, finally.

─ You both liked to relax with a nice hot shower or bath, very hot.

─ It was always relaxing to be with her in these periods of time, especially after the stress that the guys in the crew cause you.

─ She has no problem with the temperature of the water, you two are used to it, the bath always ends as if it were a sauna!

─ Massages, skin care, you spend hours in the bathroom enjoying the sensation of tranquility "Do you want me to rub your back?" "Thanks Nami, I'll massage your scalp as soon as you're done."

─ It's routine after a long day, like a sacred moment for both of you that Robin joins in whenever she wants to spend hours in the 'sauna'.

Usopp

─ This poor boy...

─ Not that he was like his stinky companions a.k.a Luffy and Zoro, but he usually took his showers alone.

─ When he was confident enough with you, you dragged him into the shower because you just felt like relaxing with him.

─ All nerves and insecurities about nudity aside, it was pretty good.

─ Pretty good until a single drop touched his skin.

─ He jumped a meter above screaming like a scared cat "How are you so calm while you are doused with water from hell itself!?" You just looked at him with a blank face "Usopp, it's just hot water" "From hell..."

─ He couldn't handle the temperature, you had to change to warm water because this big baby couldn't stand it.

─ After that bath he thought you were immune to burns or something.

─ But that didn't stop you from having more baths together, you just couldn't enjoy a real hot shower.

Sanji

─ He is undoubtedly the cleanest man in the crew, you don't have to drag him to the bathroom.

─ And if you're the one who asks him to take a shower together, it won't take him a second to undress even before getting to the bathroom.

─ He probably has more than one nosebleed, it's okay, you know how to deal with this.

─ So while he was recovering from his latest nosebleed, you were already in the shower waiting for him to massage your hair.

─ When he joined you his whole body tensed, not expecting the water to be so hot. "Are you alright Sanji? I can change the temperature if you want." "N-no, It's the perfect temperature, just like you" "Okay...?"

─ This man wanted to scream for the mistreatment of his poor skin, but he is your man and he has to put up with this for you.

─ Being part of the monster trio he will get used to it although it will take him longer than the other two.

Chopper

─ My poor baby.

─ He is used to taking baths with the girls, separately or together, so he simply accepts your request to relax for a moment.

─ Normally you used to adapt to the taste of the girls, so the temperature was always mild on those occasions.

─ So you'd never taken a bath alone with Chopper and poor fellow didn't know how hot you liked water.

─ He was confident that the water would be as usual and he jumped into the bathroom without thinking…

─ This poor boy is not good with high temperatures, he grew up on a winter island, did you want to kill him? "CHOPPER!"

─ You freaked out when you saw him jump out of the tub just a second after touching the water. "BURN, THAT BURNS!" "I'm sorry Chopper I forgot you don't like high temperatures…"

─ You will change the temperature and this adorable boi will forgive you immediately.

Robin

─ Finally another girl to relax from the stupid fights between Zoro and Sanji or the games of Luffy and Usopp.

─ Taking hot baths with her is very common.

─ She supports the heat as well as Nami and you, but among the three of you, you are the one who enjoys that heat the most, however, she will not complain either, she always manages to put an intermediate point between both tastes.

─ A difference from Nami, Robin does not spend so many hours doing massage routines, skincare and stuff.

─ She prefers to enjoy the silence, maybe some occasional small talk, but at this point in the day you two prefer to keep quiet and enjoy each other's company.

─ It is something relatively quick that makes you get rid of bad energy, rejuvenating your mood.

Franky

─ He's a cyborg… at least a lot of him.

─ That doesn't mean he doesn't need a shower once in a while!

─ He still has some human parts and his hair, his precious hair has a completely special care.

─ When you walk into the bathroom there's a damn shelf full, completely full of shampoos just for his hair (while Luffy and Zoro use that 13 in 1 shampoo pls), he'll be more than happy if you tell him you want to take a shower with him.

─ You are lucky with this one, hot water does not affect him at all, the bad thing is that he will try to play some jokes on you "I could electrocute you now if my systems fail you know?" "Franky please, I'm trying to wash your hair, not right now."

─ He just behaves by the fact that your hands are miraculous and you make his hair look absolutely fabulous. "My hair looks SUUUUPEEEERRR good!"

Brook

─ He… he's a skeleton what do you expect? 🤨

─ You're not even the one asking, because the one time you did (and he answered genuinely) he told you that he doesn't allow other people to touch his precious afro.

─ And you were fine with that, after all he always told you "I don't need to take showers because I'm already dead! YOHOHOHOHO."

─ But anyway we know Brook and rest assured that he has tried to enter the bathroom while you take a hot shower.

─ As a defense you simply splashed him to scare him away "I don't feel pain but I could feel my bones burned YOHOHOHO" "BROOK GET OUT OF HERE!"

Jinbe

─ Fish man… strange as it may seem is your favorite.

─ Jinbe adapts to all kinds of waters, cold currents in the sea, warm currents, everything!

─ So he could put up with your habit of burning your skin while taking a good bath.

─ This man gives the best massages, just look at his hands, they can occupy your whole damn back and undo contractures in seconds.

─ Of course, in return, he also asks you for a massage, it will take you a while to get all the muscles on his back to relax, but it will be worth it!

─ You always chat while relaxing, more like Jinbe complaining about Luffy's recklessness and you listening to a worried uncle. "I swear, our captain is going to make me bald." "I accompany you in the feeling Jinbe, believe me"

[magnifythesun]

Absolutely loved ur latest prompt about Anthony picking Ian up and how you stick true to their characters it feels too realistic. On that note, since I'm an avid fan of protective worried Anthony, would you pls write something with Ian passing out while filming and Anthony hyperventilating over it.

aaaa this prompt has had my mind spinning since I first read it I'm so hyped to write it! and thank you soooo much, I tried really hard to keep their voices realistic in that one and I'm honestly very happy with the way it turned out! I'm so glad you enjoyed!! :D

(post-writing note: this turned out way more comfort than hurt lol, but it was just too cute to resist!)

It was a rager of a hot day in southern California. They were filming their latest sketch, which was unfortunately entirely outside, and were eager to just get the thing done.

"Should we take a break?" Anthony asked, "It's been a few hours out here, and this heat's really killing me."

"Let's just finish up this scene," Ian said wearily, his face slightly red from the sun.

Anthony nodded in agreement and turned to tell the crew to set the cameras at another angle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ian suddenly drop like a sack of potatoes, one second standing, then not. It was almost like a bit. It would have been funny, except that the way he ragdolled to the floor sent a horrid chill through Anthony. That was not the way someone fell on purpose, for comedy or otherwise. Anthony turned.

"Ian?" He said, distantly.

Erin was already running toward him, holding her huge water bottle. "Someone bring a sheet!" She called over to the crew, who, behind the sudden haze in Anthony's vision, were little blobs scurrying to and fro, some toward Ian, others running toward the house.

Anthony stumbled over. "What happened?" Erin glanced up at him. "Is he all right?" Her eyes widened at the way he was swaying on his feet.

"Don't you pass out too!" Erin snapped, voice tight with worry. "Go sit down." She waved toward the shade by the house.

"But, Ian," Anthony started. He swept his eyes over his friend, who was starting to stir. Ian's eyelids flickered, then opened as he started to wake up.

"Ow," He groaned, raising a hand up to clutch at his forehead. "Oh wow, my head hurts really bad."

"Like you hit it?" Erin asked sharply, then looked back up at Anthony. "Anthony. Go sit down."

Anthony took an involuntary step backward from the command in her tone alone, then kept backing up until his back hit the side of the house. Tears jumped to his eyes, and he knew in that moment he needed to get out of sight. He went inside the house, ignoring the way different members of the crew were reaching out to him, worry in their voices, and headed straight to the bathroom. Closing the door, he sank to the ground immediately, trying to breathe.

His breath was tight in his throat, like a great beast had a hold on his neck and was squeezing him. The sensation traveled down to his chest, causing him to gasp quick, shallow breaths as he tried to wipe away his tears.

Was Ian alright out there? His mind was spiraling as he desperately sucked in little gasps of air. He had just left him there, too wrapped up in his own frightened reaction to comfort his friend. A pang of guilt burned bright in his chest. He had to get this under control and he had to get back out there.

Anthony focused and started his yoga breathing routine that he used every time he exercised. Slowly, slowly, he controlled his breathing. He stood up shakily, and glanced in the mirror, making sure to wipe the tears from his eyes. There was nothing he could do about how pale he looked, or how red-rimmed his eyes were.

He took one more deep breath and pulled open the door to the bathroom. Walking out, he could hear many voices in the kitchen, which was out of sight. Sounded like most of the crew had taken shelter from the sun in there.

Anthony turned toward the living room and startled. Ian was sitting there, a wet rag on his head and Erin's big bright blue bottle of water clutched in his hands. Anthony felt his breath catch in his chest again.

Anthony walked over to him. "Hey, man. You feeling okay?"

Ian smiled guiltily up at him. "Well, better now," He glanced up at Anthony towering above him and patted the couch cushion next to him. Anthony sat. "I should have called a break sooner. I could tell it was getting to me."

"You don't need to push yourself that hard," Anthony said quietly.

"True," Ian's mouth quirked. "Plus the crew deserved a break too." Ian stared off in the direction of the kitchen for a moment. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly, fingers shifting on the pastel surface of the bottle.

Anthony grimaced. "Yeah, I'm good."

Ian turned to look at him, a sharp look in his eye. "Uh-huh."

Anthony intently examined the table in front of the couch. "You saw?"

Ian took a big gulp of water. "I may have just woken up from the consequences of my own hubris, but I, I caught a glimpse."

"Sorry," Anthony said quietly, "I really don't know what came over me."

Ian didn't say anything for a moment, just slurped another sip of water. Anthony couldn't look at him. Then, Anthony felt Ian's hand, cold from the surface of the bottle, rest on top of his own hand and squeeze slightly.

"Always good to know you care." Ian said lightly, the veneer of a joke over his words, but the slight drag of his thumb over the back of Anthony's hand emphasized his words.

Relief and affection rushed through him, and Anthony glanced at Ian. "Your head okay though?"

"When is my head ever okay?" Ian laughed, "But yeah, I didn't hit it. Water?" He lifted the bottle and offered it.

"God, yeah." Anthony took it with the hand that wasn't still covered by Ian's and took a long, refreshing drink. "I can't believe we still have to go back out in that to finish filming."

"Ugh, don't even remind me," Ian groaned.

Right then, Erin's voice called from the kitchen, "Alright, back out there to shoot in ten minutes!"

Various shouts of "Heard!" echoed around the house, accompanied by several grumbles.

"I gotta lay my poor heat-stricken head down for a few minutes before we head back out there," Ian said.

"Oh okay," Anthony said, preparing to get up to let him lay down, when Ian just tilted his head slightly to rest it on Anthony's shoulder. Anthony stilled, his breath catching for the nth time today.

"I'm gonna try to visualize myself in the Arctic," Ian mumbled, "Quiet on set."

Anthony tried to not shake his shoulders as he laughed. "Alright, alright. Make sure to get back from your polar expedition in ten."

Anthony let himself rest his eyes too, the warmth of Ian's hand and head soothing the last of his rattled nerves.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 5

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |-| Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Summary: A nearby air raid forces Susie to confront the past

Warnings: Drinking, alcohol, death/description of dead body, angst again yayyyy

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

The band was in full swing, the sound of Egan's terrible singing almost drowned out by the overlapping din of music and conversation that filled the officers' club, the flight crews toasting another successful mission. Susie couldn't recall what the mission had been about - she wasn't even sure anyone had told her in the first place. She'd gotten used to taking Meatball without question and going about her day - what the pilots did never affected her, save for the faint sense of anxiety that had begun to permeate her during the hours they were away. It was unnerving.

"Oh, you have got to be shitting me," Maeve huffed, eliciting a proud laugh from Charlotte as she forked over another fistful of the peanuts they'd acquired from the bar to act as poker chips.

"Call it a punishment for being so young and sprightly," Charlotte shrugged, a smug grin curling her lip as she took her share. They had acquired a table in the back corner of the club, far from the dancing but comfortably close to the alcohol, Charlotte's huge engagement ring and Susie's resting-bitch-face a foolproof deterrent to protect them from any unwanted attention.

"She's just jealous, Maeve - her freedom's running out, and she's taking it out on us," Susie smirked, reaching for the bottle of wine in the middle of the table to refill their glasses. It was a recurring joke among the women - that Charlotte's engagement had only been dragged out as far as it had because she secretly dreaded being 'tied down', dreaded losing her individuality and becoming one of those stereotypical housewives, like the girls Susie had never gotten along with growing up. It was all in jest. Her sisters were married, and most were decently happy. But it had never been a future Susie had been able to picture for herself, and maybe that was why she felt the need to poke fun.

"Ha-ha," Charlotte drawled sarcastically, and Maeve let out another sigh of despair as she turned over another card. "You'll be the only ones showing up to the wedding alone with that attitude - two old spinsters in the back."

The sound of whimpering distracted the group from their petty bickering as Meatball padded over, resting his head dramatically in Susie's lap, ear twitching against her thigh. As she reached for a couple of the peanut-poker-chips, tossing them into the dog's waiting mouth, the other two let out cries of annoyance, and Maeve hunched over the table, beginning to try and count how many remained.

"Ladies," From behind her, DeMarco approached, drink in hand as he surveyed the state of their table - peanuts scattered all over the place, interspersed with an almost-empty bottle of wine and several glasses, their playing cards tattered and stained. The game was a mess, entirely indecipherable to anyone except the three of them.

"Your dog's eating our poker chips," Charlotte stated dryly.

"Susie's fault!" Maeve added, reaching over to scratch behind Meatball's ear.

"Oh, I'm sure," He nodded, smirking faintly as he lifted his glass to his lips. His other hand rested on the back of Susie's chair, fingers occasionally brushing against her back when she moved.

Susie stared down at her hand of cards. Her gaze had not shifted to look at him since the moment he arrived. "Thought you usually dance at these things. Why don't you go ask... Gwen, or someone. She'd probably say yes."

"I don't wanna dance with Gwen," Benny shrugged. "I came over here to see if you'd dance with me."

Maeve's brow raised, shooting Susie a pointed look, but she didn't notice, playing her turn. "Can't. Busy."

He peered over her shoulder at the cards in her hand. She was losing. Badly, in fact. "... I can see that."

Charlotte stared across at him, noticing the way his brow furrowed, frown deepening slightly as he noticed Susie's hand. "DeMarco has a terrible poker face."

"Oh, dammit!" Susie huffed, turning sideways in her chair to whack him across the arm with her cards. With a stubborn frown, she tossed her cards down onto the table, and Maeve let out a sigh of relief at the game's sudden ending. "Enjoy your peanuts, Charlotte. I hope your wedding sucks."

Standing up from her seat, she came face to face with DeMarco, who appeared slightly appalled at her last remark. "Jesus, sore loser much?"

"Wouldn't have lost if you could keep a straight face."

"I don't think anything could've saved you there, sweetheart," He admitted as she reached for her wine, pouring the last of the red liquid down her throat. It clearly wasn't her first glass - the slight flush in her cheeks could attest to that - but she was holding it well, her aggression no more irrational than usual.

"So?" DeMarco prodded.

"So... what."

He put his empty glass down on the nearest table, holding out his hand for her to dance. Susie hesitated for a moment before letting out a scoff, rolling her eyes as she took his hand in hers, letting him lead her towards the dancefloor.

"You know I hate dancing," She pointed out somewhat bitterly.

"You hate most things. And you're a nice dancer."

"God, I don't like you."

"See, that’s just not true," DeMarco grinned. "Hurtful. But not true."

Susie couldn't stop herself from smiling, looking down at her feet as they moved in time with the music. "There she is," She could hear the smirk in his voice and tilted her head back up to face him, biting her lip to stop a chuckle as she refused to meet his eye. He was staring. She could feel it, resisting the urge to squirm.

"Stop it," She shook her head, pushing against the palm that held hers.

"Stop what?"

"Staring."

That boyish grin never wiped itself from his expression as he tilted his head sideways to get a better look at her. Susie couldn't reciprocate his gaze, not when he looked at her like that, turning away as a nervous chuckle escaped her throat. DeMarco felt her grip on his hand slip, and was about to speak again when a sudden interruption sounded.

"Come on everybody! Bike race in the mess hall! Who's in?"

The very moment the invitation was issued, the crowds began to disperse, couples fleeing the dance floor in a dash to the door, their ranks thinning by the second. Susie pulled away, hands dropping to her sides as she took a step back. "That sounds like your cue, DeMarco."

His hand was still raised where it had been when she'd held it, and as she turned away to find her friends, he let out a long sigh. "...Damn it all."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She found Charlotte and Maeve halfway along the path to the mess hall, a new bottle of wine in Charlotte's hand as they passed it between themselves, sipping straight from the neck. Susie stepped in seamlessly, announcing her arrival by tugging it from Maeve's grip, the tart liquid running smoothly down her throat.

"Thought you were off with your pilot," Charlotte teased, stealing the bottle as soon as she was done.

"He's racing. I'm babysitting again," She raised Meatball's leash, and Maeve let out a slight gasp of delight as she noticed the dog trailing along beside them, tail wagging in satisfaction.

DeMarco dragged his bike into position beneath the mess hall lights, shouldering for space among the crowd of pilots, pressed together so tightly he barely had room to pedal. Buck and Bucky had pushed their way to the front, exchanging grins with him as they passed, and all around the edges of the room spectators pressed themselves up against the wall, waiting anxiously for the race to begin.

His gaze searched the crowds distractedly, not quite attuned to the announcer's instructions as he searched for Susie among them. When he spotted her, he couldn't help but let out a laugh, drawing the confused stares of the men beside him. She was stood in the far corner with her friends, cradling Meatball in her arms like a giant baby so that he wouldn't get underfoot and trip any of the cyclists in all of the excitement. Her head was turned away from him, talking to Charlotte, but every now and then one of the other women would raise the wine bottle they were sharing up to her lips, a red droplet running down her chin where it missed.

Maeve must have told a joke, for Susie suddenly began to laugh, nose scrunched, eyes screwed tightly shut. The sight made him smile, and the sudden bang! of the starting pistol startled him, pushing off with a clumsy start and almost knocking over the man beside him as the race began.

Her expression contorted into momentary horror as DeMarco seemed to almost crash before even crossing the starting line, but he quickly found his footing, and her friends let out cheers of encouragement as the men zipped past, navigating the twists and turns with reckless abandon. Meatball let out a howl, mimicking the whooping of the crowd, and she laughed, the wine beginning to go to her head.

All three of them had begun to go red in the face, everything seemingly far funnier than it had been an hour ago. And as Cleven and Egan screwed it up on their final corner, their bikes taking a tumble, knocking down the cyclists behind them in turn, it suddenly seemed one of the funniest things they'd ever seen, tears brewing in Susie's eyes as she let out a cackle of laughter.

DeMarco had just managed to avoid the crash, wheeling to a stop and a long, sobering siren split the air. The energy in the room didn't seem to dissipate for a moment, realisation about what was happening encroaching slowly, but the sound had ripped Susie out of her somewhat-drunken haze instantly, a sudden nausea bubbling in her stomach.

Her gaze darted wildly across the room, waiting for the rest of them to notice, to get up and move. It wasn't until Charlotte shot her an unnerved glance that she realised her breathing had quickened, coming sharp and ragged, panic clearly visible in her expression.

"It's ok, we're good," She assured her, a hand on her arm as she put Meatball down, his claws skittering against the linoleum. "Let's go, yeah?"

Susie nodded firmly, making a beeline for the door just as the situation seemed to become apparent to the rest of the room, the cyclists collecting their bikes and calmly departing for the air raid shelters. Leaving the warmth of the mess hall and stepping out into the cool night air seemed to make it easier to breathe, panic beginning to subside as she took in their surroundings - the squat Nissen huts, the rolling countryside in the distance.

This wasn't the city. This wasn't home. No one was out to get her here.

But then she reached the top of the stairs to the shelter. Staring down at the dark doorway, she couldn't take that next step, couldn't descend below ground level to wait it out.

"You take Meatball and go down," Susie turned to Maeve, pressing his leash into her hand. "I'll come in a minute."

"Okay," Her friend nodded, looking up at her with concern as she took the dog down the steps, disappearing into the shelter with the others. People flooded past as she pushed against the tide, pulling away from the crowd and stepping back into the grass.

The sky lit up with dozens of colours, explosions of flame and flak smoke like blots of watercolour against the clouds. The hum of engines and the rattle of anti-aircraft guns were far from unfamiliar sounds to Susie's ears as she sat down on the lawn, pressing her hands into the grass, tethering herself to the knowledge that it was different here - that they weren't the target.

She'd been awoken by these sirens so many times before, listening to the rustle of bedsheets beside her as Ellie scrambled awake, shaking her shoulders until she got up. Susie couldn't even remember why Ellie hadn't been home the night they'd killed her. All she remembered was sitting in the shelter with her mother, and the blinding daylight as they reemerged the next morning.

"Hey," A voice broke her train of thought, tugging her gaze from the planes that circled above like moths to a flame. The woman standing above her was dressed in a WAAF uniform, frizzy brown hair falling to her shoulders, an unlit cigarette between her lips. She recognised her, but she couldn't quite pinpoint who she was.

"Hi," Susie nodded, brow furrowing slightly as the woman sat down beside her. She stared at her for a long moment, watching the way flickers of orange light flashed across her face as the fighting continued above.

"... You're the mechanic, right?"

The woman smiled, holding out a hand to her. "Frankie."

She accepted, shaking it gingerly. "Susie."

Frankie nodded, and Susie accepted a cigarette as she held the box out to her. "Not many people 'round here with an accent like yours."

"Manchester."

"...Ah," She let out a long sigh, clearly piecing things together immediately. "I got friends in Coventry."

"Everything's a shitshow," Susie huffed, lighting her cigarette, and Frankie let out a low hum of agreement, leaning back on her elbows.

"We're okay out here, though."

"My sister... Got a sister in London. One of the plotters. She'll be all over this."

"My friend George takes their telegrams."

They sat in silence for a long moment, and Susie suddenly realised she was still carrying the half-empty bottle of wine, too consumed by panic at the mess hall to have bothered putting it down.

"... You want some?" She offered, holding it out to Frankie.

"Oh, thanks," She smiled, tipping it by the neck and taking a long sip. Susie couldn't stomach the idea of drinking anymore. She didn't reach for it back, and Frankie didn't pass it.

Sucking in a long, tight breath, Susie lay back, feeling the damp grass against her scalp. 'My sister...' She'd almost told her. A complete, utter stranger, and she'd almost let it slip. She almost told everyone these days. Ellie's body had been dragged out from the rubble, pale and battered and limp, but it hadn't been her. Not truly. Her body was an empty vessel - whatever had truly been her had slipped away the moment her head caved in. It seemed as if every room she entered now, she brought with her a silent cry of ‘Have you seen my sister?’, a quiet search for her soul in the eyes of others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It lasted just less than an hour. As soon as the planes had arrived, they were gone again, the sky falling flat and black, the buzzing silenced. Frankie had said something to her before she left, but Susie hadn't been listening. When she looked up, the mechanic was gone. So was the wine.

Her watch had just ticked past midnight by the time she sat up, smoothing down her damp hair with one hand as she rose to her feet. Something bubbled within her, something caught in her throat that made her feel all at once about to vomit and about to weep. She took a deep breath, watching as people began to clamber out of the shelter across the lawn. DeMarco was with them, a part of the dispersing crowd of spectators, and even through the darkness, he caught her gaze, a frown creasing his brow. They drifted towards each other as they walked, meeting halfway.

"Where were you?" He asked. "You were supposed to be in the shelter."

"So were you," She huffed. He could tell something was bothering her. She reached up to scratch her nose every other second, an incessant, phantom itch that she couldn't conquer. "D'you have a phone?"

"... Are you ok?"

"Fine. Just need to call someone."

DeMarco frowned, watching her expression keenly. "There's one in the officers' club. I'll walk you over."

She was surprised the place was still open, the door hanging slightly ajar, left open as its inhabitants had hurried to find shelter. The bulbs buzzed as he flicked the lights on, showing her over to the bar where a phone waited on its hook. He hesitated for a moment, watching her hand twitch as she tried to remember the number, the dial rattling as she turned it. Susie looked up at him, and he took it as his cue to leave, the door closing behind him with a click as she was left alone, glancing around at the half-finished drinks and still-smoking cigarette butts that littered the room as she waited for the other person to pick up.

An irritated groan sounded on the other end of the line, and she could hear the rustling of sheets as she waited to speak.

"Hello? What is it?" Beatrice huffed, sleep lining her voice.

"Hey. It's me."

"Susie? What do you want?"

Her sister always had such a way with pleasantries. "Just watched a raid over... Norwich, I think. I was wondering if... if you knew anything?"

"Wasn't my shift," She replied curtly. Susie could picture her now, half sitting up in bed, rollers in her hair as she leant against the headboard, scowling.

"Oh, right," She paused, mentally scrambling for something to say before Beatrice hung up. "Is your husband there?"

"No. Staying in his flat, probably with his girlfriend."

"... Ah."

It was quiet for a moment, before she heard her sister let out an irritated huff. "What do you actually want, Suze? I know you don't care about bloody Norwich."

Beatrice's accent had changed since she'd left Manchester - she'd married rich, and she'd made sure she had something to show for it. But whenever she got annoyed, that familiar northern drawl seeped back through.

"I was just... I dunno, I needed to talk to someone."

"You were thinking about Ellie, weren't you?" Beatrice asked. The silence stretched out between them, and it was all the answer she needed, letting out a sigh. "You've gotta get unstuck, Suze. You can't live like this forever."

"I'm not stuck," She replied indignantly, brow furrowed.

"Yes. You are. None of us ever saw you cry after it happened - you never felt it like the rest of us, you never let yourself move on."

Susie bristled, suddenly defensive. "I'm just not like you - I was always braver than the rest of you."

"No, that's the opposite of what you are," Beatrice thundered. "You're a coward, Susie - you don't ever move on with your life because to do that you've gotta feel something other than fucking angry. You were there when they found Ellie and I know the rest of us weren't, I know it's different. But stop making that everyone else's fucking problem and just deal with it."

"She was my-"

"She was my little sister too! But so are you! I'm sick of listening to you make excuses for why you just wallow in it - it's been years since I've seen you not miserable, and it's your own fault. You know I love you. And I'm only being like this because everyone else in our family is much too bloody nice. But get over it, Susie."

She'd been gnawing at the inside of her lip the entire time she'd been listening to Beatrice speak. With a hiss, Susie realised she'd broken the skin, a droplet of blood pooling in her mouth, coating her tongue with a sour, metallic flavour.

She wanted to snap - a thousand cruel words poised on her tongue, a hundred things to hurl back at Beatrice. But not one would have made her point any less true. Tears were forming in her eyes, blotting out her vision until she could barely see an inch in front of her face. Susie squeezed her eyes tightly shut, feeling them roll down her cheeks, leaving warm, wet trails in their wake.

"Susie?" Beatrice's voice came tentatively, and she realised it had been a few minutes since she'd uttered a sound.

"Goodnight, Beatrice," Her voice came firm, hanging up before her sister could reply.

Suddenly the silence in the officers' club was too much to bear. She felt as if she were about to explode, the hot sting of tears in her eyes, the sudden, painfully breathlessness in her throat all too foreign, too frightening. Susie opened her mouth to suck in a breath, a hoarse, choking sound ripping through her, the air getting stuck before it could reach her lungs. She felt her expression contort in anguish, and the first, involuntary sob broke free. Once the floodgates opened, they couldn't close, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought to catch a breath, fumbling blindly as she crossed the room to the door, desperate to be anywhere else.

The door to the officer's club swung open easily, and Susie stormed out into the night, chest heaving up and down over and over as she sobbed, hands trembling. She turned her head, caught off guard just long enough for a sob to catch in her throat, coming out as a hiccup as she spotted DeMarco, throwing up her hands in frustration. He'd been leaning up against the wall as she came out. He had waited for her.

"Susie? Hey," DeMarco hurried forward, expression twisted in worry. He reached for her hands, thumbs rubbing against the backs of her palms. His voice was so incredibly gentle, more than she'd ever heard it. "Hey, c'mon."

Susie's lip trembled, and she let out a croak as she fought to catch her breath, heart beating too fast for her body. He sighed, letting go of her hands to wrap his arms around her, pulling her forwards against his chest. It was too close. For a split second, she wanted to push him away, to peel his touch away from her body.

But it was so warm here. Her head turned to the side, her ear pressed up against his ribcage, she could hear his heartbeat, soft and steady. In the cage of his arms, for the first time in a long time, she felt tethered to something. She had balled her hands into fists. Slowly, they unfurled, and she wrapped her arms around him, hands resting against his spine.

"My sister didn't die. She was killed." She whispered, voice muffled against his jacket, just loud enough to hear. "They bombed her factory. I was there when they pulled her out."

Everything suddenly came into alarming clarity. DeMarco nodded, releasing a long sigh. He brought a hand up to the back of her head, her curls snaking around his fingertips as he gently stroked her hair.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," He uttered, tilting his head downwards, his nose pressed against her forehead.

"I want to. You waited."

"I thought you looked a little spaced out earlier. After the raid. So that was because-?"

"Yeah."

"Jesus. I'm sorry, Suze."

"It was a few years ago, now."

"That doesn't make it okay, though. Does it?"

She looked up at him then. In the darkness, her eyes looked like bottomless pools, the brown turned black in the starlight.

"... No. It doesn't."

A few strands of hair had stuck to her cheek where her tears had begun to dry. He lifted a hand to brush them away, the warmth of her skin against his fingertip so wonderfully soft. Susie sniffed, and it was as if some trace had broken, her arms tugging away from him, the squeeze against his back suddenly gone as she stepped back. Exhaustion tugged down at her face, dark circles forming beneath her eyes. She looked so helpless it almost broke his heart.

"God," She sighed, running a hand across her brow. "I don't-... I don't know, I don't think I wanna go back to my hut. Too many questions."

"Ok," DeMarco nodded. "That's ok. I know a place. C'mon."

Susie had no idea where he would take her. Perhaps if she'd been in any better state she would've refused. But she wasn't. She was tired, and he was kind. Her mind was clouded over, thoughts barely half-formed.

But she trusted him. She'd gotten him out of the middle of nowhere when their truck broke, and now he was getting her out when she did.

"... Alright."

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #04 the fall of the empire.

synopsis: over the past ten years you've fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it's clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc's

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex's, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

𐦍 word count: 1.9k

masterlist ▸ 003. two robots fell in love. ▸ 04.5 plan b?

Throwing your phone onto your couch, you let out the biggest sigh your body could manage to put out.

How did things manage to get so out of hand so quickly?

First Joshua and now Minnie, maybe karma really had it out for you this time.

In need of a distraction you started cleaning your apartment, scrubbing off any scuffs and dirt that accumulated from your past. It was something you wished you could do in your personal life, just scrub out all of the bad shit and only move forward.

After spending hours cleaning out the grout from the shower and throwing away old memories from your past in fear that they'd come back to haunt you, a knock came on the front door.

You almost pretended to not hear it, just hoping that whoever decided to show their face to you would just save themselves and walk away, but the knocking persisted.

"Look, I don't really feel like- Oh my god, Seokmin."

His puppy dog eyes stared at you as a greeting and his long arms held a basket full of your favorite things, homemade lemonade, popcorn, cherry sour straws, and even a small stuffed animal.

"Sorry, I tried to text you but you hadn't replied and I got worried. I can just drop this off and let you be alone."

"No, please stay. Thank you for coming over, I just didn't feel like answering my phone anymore."

"Have people been talking about the twitter?"

"Yeah, I got about a thousand text messages from everyone, none that I've opened. Joshua, Jeonghan, Mingyu.. I mean it's fucking insane."

"Well, we can both ignore our phones and watch some rom-coms? I even brought a bag full of mini alcohol bottles and stuff to bake brownies."

Seokmin sniffed the air as he removed his coat and sneakers, stepping into your apartment.

"Stress cleaning?"

"Yeah, I just felt like washing away bad energy."

"Don't worry, I showered before I came."

"Shut up."

Seokmin took it upon himself to pre-heat your oven and get started mixing the ingredients for the chocolate mixture. Trying to find a way to ask you about how you felt, but not wanting to pry.

"Look, we can talk about it, Seok. It's okay."

"No, I just feel bad. I mean everything you wrote is private, you're not entitled to have anyone know your dirty secrets and it's just not fair."

"That's exactly what, Minghao texted me. I think I'm over trying to find out who did it, like maybe if I don't add fuel to the fire and act like it doesn't bother me. I can forget about it. It can't get much worse than it already is."

"Don't let Minnie bother you, y/n. She's just upset, it'll blow over."

"I guess."

Passing time with Seokmin felt like exactly what you needed, he was able to take your mind off of anything negative that was going on, part of his basket you didn't see were the set of matching pajamas with both of your favorite Sanrio characters embroidered on the front. He told you he was saving them for a special day, but today was the perfect time to bring them.

Now with warm brownies made and Seokmin's famous lemonade you sit cuddled on your couch, watching the intro to 10 things I hate about you plastered on the big LED screen.

Your phone buzzed on the table, waking you from being zoned out. a name flashed on the screen, one that wasn't a threat to how happy you've felt the past few hours, Minghao.

"Seok, is it okay that I invited someone?"

"Oh, who is it?"

"Well, Minghao texted me and wanted to hangout. I don't feel like I should shut him out just because of what happened."

"Are you going to tell him to call his dogs off?"

"Yeah, I think I will at least for now."

"Minghao's always been nice, he'll understand."

"I hope so."

After another half hour of watching Kat fall in love with Patrick on your screen and singing along with Seokmin to the movie soundtrack a knock came from your front door.

Unwrapping yourself from the warmth of your friend, you crawled off the couch wrapped in a blanket and ran to answer it.

"I thought I told you not to wear something nice?"

Minghao was dressed in a cozy pair of cargo sweats and a big hoodie, carrying a larger than normal leather tote bag.

"Well, I wasn't about to show up in my boxers. I like your pajamas though."

"Thank you, Seokmin brought them for me. We got matching ones, sort of silly I know. You may laugh."

"No, they look cute. I brought you guys some snacks and wine as a sorry for intruding."

Seokmin's loud voice cheered from your couch.

"Wow, Minghao. If someone doesn't snatch you up soon I might have to. Hi, by the way."

Minghao took your previous spot on the couch, next to Seokmin getting him with a cute handshake.

"How is everything guys?"

"Well, good now. Y/N had sort of a rough morning."

"Yeah, I saw the posts. Did something happen?"

"Well, Minnie freaked out on me of course and I told her to move out. So, I had just been cleaning before Seok came and rescued me."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. It happens I guess."

Seokmin forced Minghao to let you sit in between the middle of them after noticing you searching around the room for the best place to sit.

"Come on, loser."

Your butt found its perfect missing piece sitting between two of your friends both new and old.

"Should we watch Twilight? Minghao's never seen them."

"You've never seen Twilight? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Minghao's eyes opened wider than you had ever seen them, probably embarrassed that the two of you made this little moment about him.

"Stop acting like that's the weirdest thing ever? You guys are crazy."

"Oh my god, you're going to love this Hao."

Seokmin queued up the movie, watching the title sequence splash across the screen as you watched Minghao experience the blue toned film for the first time, catching glimpses at him at all of your favorite parts.

After the movie ended Seokmin was sleeping up against your side, cutely snoring. You tried to subtly remove yourself from him without scaring the daylights out of the by, you woke him up, Minghao was already up and next to your side helping you move the sleeping puppy into your bedroom, so he could get a good nights sleep.

"Thank you."

"I should, get going."

"Oh no, stay here. You can either stay on the couch or you can take Minnie's room, I changed the sheets already."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'll probably stay up for a while, I have some shit to take care of."

"Are you sure, I'm not intruding?"

"No, shut up. It's late and raining stay here."

"Okay, I'll stay wherever. Thank you."

"No please, stay in the extra room. It's more comfy."

"I think you should, the couch is nice and warm anyway. I like the fireplace."

With a nod you grabbed Minghao a few pillows and an extra toothbrush and snuck away to the room that used to belong to Minnie, packing away her stuff as a final gesture to someone you used to call your best friend.

Minghao, walked through the closed doorway to find you sitting on your wooden floor, tears drying up on your cheeks, looking at photos of your friends.

He placed the two glasses of red wine, beside you and bent to sit criss cross adjacent to you.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"No, you didn't actually. I was just reading on my phone, I usually go to bed pretty late."

"Oh, okay. This is pathetic isn't it?"

"What? Being upset? No, it isn't."

"No, just me, crying over this. I mean I made most of this mess in the first place and here I am crying over people I hurt no matter how badly they hurt me before. I mean, seeing Mingyu and Minnie hanging out, Joshua and Mimi, I just like am making myself a victim when I'm also to blame."

"Y/n, you are a victim in this too. It maybe doesn't feel like it, but just because you hurt someone doesn't mean they get to hurt you back."

"I guess."

"Does Minnie and Mingyu being alone together bug you?"

"No, she's right as much as I hate to admit it. It can't bother me they're friends too, I guess I just didn't see that coming.

Minghao pics up a polaroid photo of you and Joshua wearing matching college sweatshirts, dated September 15.

"Was this your first day of classes?"

Your laugh came after a couple of sniffles, admiring the smiling pair in the photos.

"Yeah, our mom's were best friends growing up and naturally so were we. We got accepted into the same university, so our first day they took far too many pictures of us. I wonder why Minnie has it?"

"Maybe, by mistake?"

"Yeah, maybe. I normally keep all my pictures in a box under my bed."

Something in your gut was telling you that Minnie having that picture of you in her room wasn't by mistake, but you chose to shove it down continuing your trip down memory lane with Minghao.

"Oh my god."

Minghao held up a picture of you, you were standing with Minnie at a halloween party outside with drinks in hand, dressed up as sexy bottles of ketchup and mustard.

"No, that's so embarrassing throw it away."

You tried to grab the picture out of Minghao's grip as he was sprawled across the floor giggling over you dressed up with a red cone on your head.

"I didn't think Ketchup could be so sexy, y/n."

"Shut up, that's awful. I don't even remember that. I look so stupid."

"No you look nice, actually very original for the sexy girl costume trope."

"Ha- Ha, very funny."

Minghao handed you your glass of wine, laughter now dying out as you sat in silence surrounded by polaroids of your past.

"Can I tell you something, y/n?"

"Yeah, always."

"Well, I found out where the first tweet was posted from, not me actually, Wonwoo. It came from your wifi network, so whoever posted it was in your apartment that first night."

A pit came to your gut, the same apartment you were in now, the walls suddenly looked darker and you decided on chugging the alcohol in front of you.

"Do you know anything else?"

"No, just that the network assigned was yours."

"Can we maybe, stop sleuthing just for awhile? I don't know what to do anymore. I'm really thankful you guys wanted to help me, I just, I get a feeling there's more to this that I don't know or even want to find out right now."

Minghao just shook his head, holding up the bottle of wine asking you if you needed more, which of course you obliged.

"Want to watch something with me?"

"More twilight?"

"No, not more twilight. Seokmin wouldn't be happy to miss that. Maybe, Princess Diaries?"

"I love that movie."

"Me too, come on."

You crawled into the bed, tapping the covers asking him to sit next to you.

"Turn the light off, come on I don't bite."

"Can I confess something embarrassing? I used to think the brother in this movie was someone from the Beatles."

"Oh my god, me too. And that the mom from the parent trap was Princess Diana."

Minghao laughed, reliving a part of his childhood climbing into the bed next to you, afraid to get too close.

You on the other hand were as comfortable as ever, cuddling under the covers, clutching a pillow in your lap watching Anne Hathaway on screen.

By the time Mia was getting her makeover Minghao and you were sleeping peacefully side by side.

✧.* taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl @kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, @porridgesblog, @punkhazardlaw, @jasssy051,

[xxcherrydevilxx]

Fated Eve

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Fandom: BSD; Ranpo x fem!reader

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Warnings: N/A, really just fluff

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Summary: drinking a beer in the parking lot of a convenience store is not how many will be spending New Year's Eve, but it is for you. When a pretty boy drops some glasses and hurries off without realizing it, you spend the last hours of the new year trying to hunt him down. 

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A/N Thoughts: Kept thinking about this idea while at work and just really liked the image of it. I knew I wouldn't be able to write it the day of new years eve so i'm trying to get it done quickly so errors might be apparent.

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Word Count: 2811 

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A/N Afterthoughts: so cheesy, so found family, wish this was my New Year’s, need more Ranpo fanfiction. Finished this up at 9 pm, have work at 9 am, hope you all don't die of sweetness overload, and have a happy new year! Perhaps you’ll find some cute guy’s glasses and have a Tumblr love story.

The beer wasn’t as refreshing as you had hoped, and the concrete parking lot bumper wasn’t as comfy as your sofa would have been, either. But you couldn’t go back to your apartment because your roommate was throwing a New Year's Eve party, and you knew absolutely no one who was attending. You stepped out to get some fresh air after some random couple came tumbling into your bedroom hoping to get some “privacy,” you called it quits there. Maybe there was somewhere more comfortable to sit and drink alone. But as you leaned your head back and took in the countless stars in the night sky, you didn’t want to get up; this view was worth it. The air was practically fizzing with the anticipation of all the people waiting with bated breath for the final hours to tick down and for it to be an amazing new year, a year filled with new aspirations, goals, and anything you could possibly imagine. 

You are hoping for a few of your goals and dreams to get crossed off. Land a new job? Figure out a better living situation, and finish your bachelor's. The new year always held such innocent hope, despite nothing different from the ones past. 

You took another sip of your beer and stretched out your legs on the cool concrete, thinking back on your year with bittersweet memories. A car pulled into the parking lot next to you. You gave the driver a quick lookover; a man who seemed frantic as he patted down his jeans and rushed into the convenience store. Party stragglers, you had seen a few come and go as you relaxed in the biting cold December air. Teenagers trying not to get carded, college kids like you, stumbling and laughing out into the cold air as their breath billowed and faded into the night sky. Friends, lovers, family… and then there was you alone in your own bubble. You faintly felt the tug of loneliness as you watched all the different faces march on, their arms linked or holding hands, while you sat on cement and drank a cheap beer. 

A man jumped over the parking bump as he rushed toward the street, arms ladened with bags. You could see the faint outline of snacks: gummy bears, chocolate, all sweets. His step seemed to have a skip in it, and his outline against the pitch-black sky made you breathe in for no other reason but the beauty of it. The image of someone so alone like yourself, but still finding joy and rushing back to where he had come from. You knew he was probably racing back to a place filled with joyful laughter, goofy 20XX hats, and the murmur of the countdown playing in the background. You perched your chin on the top of your bottle, eyes squinting slightly in thought as the figure continued to get smaller and smaller. Your eyes were transfixed on the man you almost didn't feel the tap on your shoulder. 

“E-excuse me miss? Are these yours?” the man from before asked. The hasty one had now come back out of the convenience store with an armful of beer, the same brand as yours. You turned your head slightly, your hair swishing down your shoulder as you took in his face, then the faint object in his hands. Glasses.

“Oh, no those aren't-” the man let out a groan of annoyance. Before you could finish, you hastily changed your answer as if his displeasure was enough for such a white lie.

“Those aren't mine, but they are friend’s of mine.” you conceded, smiling up politely at the man who held a pensive look on his face.

“Great. Here,” he said,  tossing the glasses before turning and getting into his car. He spun out of the parking lot as you fumbled to catch the glasses, staring blankly at them and then back up at the red car lights of his; which was speeding down the desolate road.

  Whose even were these? 

You turned the glasses over in your hands, taking in the rims and the dark black color that made it fade into the darkness if you didn’t squint hard enough. No initials, typical, but you had a hard time making out if these were even prescriptions. They couldn’t be? Could they? Would someone be able to lose such glasses? Surely they would have been wearing them.

You deduced quickly; they weren't prescriptions, no way… so then, whose were they? You gently sat the glasses down beside you, pulling your hands close to your mouth as you blew warm air over your knuckles, the chilly December breeze finally getting to you. You don’t know why you were so intrigued about who these glasses belonged to; it didn’t matter, did it? You could simply give them to the cashier and let them deal with it. But another part of you, perhaps that innocent hope that had been blossoming since you sat out in the cold air and gazed up at the stars, found excitement in such a small task. A chase against time to find the owner! Or, as your roommate would call it, a goose chase to find who you think could be the owner. You eyed the glasses as the lenses looked out towards the road.

“Just whose owners are you, huh?” you mumbled out loud. Your chin resting on your knees that you had pulled up, and your hand tracing the rims. You were bored; that much was apparent, you were talking to someone's glasses for Christ's sake. You were also as curious as a cat, and the idea of chasing someone down on New Year's… finding them just as the time changed… maybe it would be a handsome man? Woman? Someone to make this new year start with a flourish.

Well, that did it. You jumped to your feet, clapping your hands together to gain some warmth, pocketing the glasses and taking one last sip of your beer for fools' courage; you got to work. 

You stood in the parking lot for a second, hands on your hips, as you looked at the double doors and the flickering lights inside. If the glasses belonged to someone who came in before or after the hasty man with the bad driving skills; giving them around a ten-minute window because if they had already been there for too long someone else would have either grabbed them or the cashier would have put them behind the register. You ran through the customers you had seen come in before the man; a woman and boy, perhaps her son, who had a silly News Year hat on and who clutched his mother’s hand tightly and stared wide-eyed at everything around at him, even waving at you when they emerged out of the store. If it was their glasses the curious boy would have probably picked them up, so you mentally crossed them off on your list.

Next up was a group of teens trying to illegally buy beer. You could tell because they looked so young there was no way they could get away with it… and because they asked you to buy for them which garnered a laugh. They never even entered the store, knowing their chances were slim, so the glasses must not be theirs as you would have heard the clatter if they did fall out of a pocket. 

All that was left was… Ah! The sweets boy! He came in shortly after the hasty man, and his hands were so full he couldn’t possibly have noticed the glasses slipping, his fast steps probably even blocking out the noise. You couldn’t have noticed either, being too busy watching the peppy man bounce off with glee, and the hasty man must have come out shortly after because he pulled you out of your lull and handed you the lost item.

Yes! That must be it! You quickly pulled out the glasses to look at their now smudged frames.

“I think I figured out your owner,” you said valiantly to the inanimate object. You rubbed the lenses clean and, for the hell of it, put them on. You had no trouble looking through the lenses, confirming to you that they were, in fact, not prescription. Now you just had to track down a joyful man who loved sweets on New Year's Eve. To some, the task might have felt daunting, how could someone find one ordinary person in a sea of party-goers? Great question!

You did not have an answer!

Maybe just- go down the road they went? Yeah, that sounded wise, maybe it was the glasses making you so smart. 

Throwing your beer bottle into recycling, you went on. Passing by apartments, homes, and businesses, all of which had their lights on, the faint hum of their TVs tuned to the same channel, and the murmur of laughter inside. You stopped occasionally, standing and looking in at the happy-go-lucky people, trying to pick out the boy you were looking for. None of them fit the description you had of the man, so you tossed your head and went on. Okay, think back… what was he wearing again? You hummed and closed your eyes, calling up the image of the black-haired man with some brown type of jacket over a button-up. You had originally pegged him as a college student, but now that you had to think, no college student ever dressed like that, or at least not the ones you ran with on campus. 

“Come on new years luck! Give me a sign!” you pleaded to the sky. Pressing your hands together in mock prayer and bowing your head as if the spirit of luck would answer you. You must have looked so strange to people who drove past or anyone who might take a look out their window. A girl with knee-high boots overtop their bare skin, a loose fitted shirt that was thrown hastily on over a tank top with glasses on and their head bowed.

“Dazai-san you don’t understand,” a voice whined across the street, making you open one eye to look over at the two figures, one being pulled by the wrist, the whiner, and a brunette who looked annoyed out of their wits. A car raced passed and shone a quick light on them.   

“Just retrace your steps,” the brunette told them, their eyes stuck on the ground as they seemed to be searching for something. Another car passed by and their lights flashed across their faces once again. The outfit of the man trudging behind made a spark light in your brain. “Sweets boy!” you breathed out, unclasping your hands and looking both ways across the street. They had yet to notice you, both talking to one another quickly and fast. They were quickly moving away from you, and a car was zipping down, meaning you couldn’t run across until it passed.

“Hey! Hey wait! I found your uhm- your glasses!” you called across the road. But obviously, they still weren't paying attention as they briskly continued down the opposite way from you. The car you were waiting on finally passed and you bounded across the road, your eyes caught on the now-distant figures. How could they walk so fast so quickly? Were they that worried about these little prop glasses that you wore? You took a deep breath, gosh you did not want to have to run in the cold, but alas… a good samaritan would under such circumstances. 

You were off, one foot in front of the other as you took a racing- okay, jogging -start down the street. Your steps must have alerted the brunette, who turned his head fast, cocking it and seeming to grow tense. He seemed to relax once you waved at them and he turned back around; he must have thought you weren’t waving to them, but instead to a friend in front of them he must not have seen. The sweets boy, the one you were ever so kindly helping, didn't turn or even care to look who was behind them. His head was down, and he seemed to still be whining.

You made quick work to get to them, reaching out to tug on the boy’s cape-like jacket. You bent your knees and took a deep breath.

“Hey! Sweets boy- Jesus, why are you both so fast,” you wheezed, coughing out the cold air from your lungs. The man you held onto turned fast, the brunette more lazily until he noticed the glasses perched atop your nose.

“Where did you get those?” he asked, striding forward to snatch them off your face. You held up a hand and took a breath.

“You dropped them at the convenience store, I was trying to find them to return em to ya!” you breathed out. a small laugh taking catch in your throat as you looked up at the man you had chased down all night. The cold air that was once your laugh traveled up and past his face into the night sky, and as soon as you could get a clear look at his face, you breathed back in.

Lady luck is truly on my side.

The man was beautiful, a smile seemed always imprinted on his lips, his green eyes looking down at you with an amusement glint. His arms were on his hips as if admiring your work to find them. You could tell his arms were lean and strong. You felt that one bottle of beer finally gave you one last push of courage; one sip got you to stay and sit at that parking stop, the next to play detective and find the missing owner of the glasses, and the last sip still working its way through your veins gave you the words you confidently spoke to your news year fated stranger, “I played a pretty good detective to find ya, if I had known you were so pretty I would have worked harder!” your cheeks flushed a faint pink, maybe from the run or the beer, or you know, the boldness that just overtook you. 

The brunette behind him let out a low whistle as he folded the glasses up and placed them in a pocket of his trenchcoat, and the green-eyed man let out a joyful laugh that just fit him, his entire being encapsulated into one sound.

“My my, if you are a detective like me and Dazai here then you should join us at our party!” His grin grew even wider at his words. You could see his white canines in his smile and you felt your stomach flip. You shook the flirtatious thoughts out of your head, had he invited you to an office party? Not just any office party, a detective office party? “Wait I was just kidding-” the man took your arm and linked it with his. And you could hear the brunette- Dazai -snicker at the action.

“Nonsense! This was the sharpest detective work I have seen!” He exclaimed. His joyful step infested you, and soon you were walking arm and arm with newfound vigor as the man behind you watched and seemed to hold back his laughter.

You walked together in the cold air, sharing pleasantries and getting to know one another. His arm never untangling itself from yours. Dazai chimed in here and there to explain how the party was going and where it was. As you turned the corner, you saw the festive lights of a cafe beaming, the sign on it flipped closed, but the people inside were obviously granted special access. You tripped slightly as you took in the sight, people all smiling and sharing drinks, arms wrapped around one another as they laughed in the new year. Ranpo made sure you didn’t fall, his green eyes turning to you.

“You’ll fit right in! And you can share with us your story!” you could already tell you would have a new crush for the New Year. Dazai walked ahead, his shoulders pushed back and his hands in his pockets, while Ranpo pulled you along, smiling and chatting with joy as he listed off the names and appearances of all his co-workers as if you would remember it once you got inside. 

Despite the December cold, you felt so warm, as if you were bundled in the softest and warmest sweater. The stars in the sky twinkled as if enjoying the puppy love romance beginning to blossom, but you were unaware of them because your north star was right in front of you, leading you to new friends and new stories. All your New Year's wishes seem to come true in an instant.

[mydiazboys]

is it okay to kiss you?

buddie (mentioned buck/tommy, eddie/marisol) | T | 1K | sexuality exploration, man on man kissing, fluff tbh | not beta read, dont point out mistakes & no i don't take criticism :)

“Is it okay to kiss you?”

Buck’s lips parted. Staring blankly at the person ahead of him. A person he knew incredibly well. He’d argue that nobody knew them better than himself, and vice versa. But. That question had his mouth drying, heart stilling and breath hitching.

Since he had come out, Buck had worked out exactly what that meant for himself. It took him a bit to get past, “I’m an ally”, and get to the, “I’m bisexual.” But it was a journey, it was his journey. And he finally, maybe, was fully accepting of himself. He had a few hiccups, when he was alone late at night. Some panic would set in that this was just a big joke. That he was fooling himself.

And then, Tommy. Tommy had been amazing at helping him learn about himself. About his sexuality. After their hiccup of a first date, and then Maddie’s wedding, Tommy had been giving Buck the educational experience. It started with a chill movie night, some action flick that Buck was sure they would both enjoy. Until…

“Henry Cavill is just…” Tommy made a noise, and it was right in Buck’s ear. It had the hair on the back of his neck sticking up, in the most beautiful way as he was glancing towards his friend. “You know?”

“I- Uh.. Yeah, I do- I do know.” Buck swallowed nervously, because he was. This was new. Kissing a man was new. Watching a movie cuddled up like this was new. Expressing sexual interest in a man? Definitely very new, even if the thoughts had not been.

But that expression had led to some kissing, and some exploration of another male's anatomy which… Buck found he enjoyed it a lot. Almost as much as he loves women. No doubt.

But it had been a few weeks, and Buck had realised. He likes Tommy. A lot. But, his heart was already claimed by another. Probably had been for a long time, which is why he had so many failed relationships with women. And Tommy? He was more than okay with it.

“I helped you find a new piece of yourself,” Tommy has said, his voice so casual and even. Like it always was. Calming. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” there had been a playful huff. “But I’d be stupid to not take this for what it was. You truly are special, Evan.”

And they were still friends. He was the one Buck reached out to during a long 48 hour shift, when he was unable to sleep and he thought about something else he wanted to ask when it came to his sexuality. He found out, no, apparently it was not normal for a heterosexual man to check out a hot guy's ass. It had been one of Tommy’s first callouts about maybe he wasn’t straight.

Which brings him to today.

Eddie is sat beside him, Christopher already in bed. A movie playing on the tv, but it had been long forgotten. And it was just two men drinking beers. Eddie’s body tucked into the corner, leg bent and balancing on his other knee. One hand holding his calf there, the other cradling his beer. Buck stared at him, stared at his lips. And it was hitting him like a freight train all over again.

“I just- You said that’s how you realised about, y’know,” Eddie nodded awkwardly, gesturing towards the man on the other side of his couch. “And I- I’ve never kissed a guy before, so I could be- I don’t know-”

“Eddie,” Buck breathed out. Eddie’s eyes snapped to meet his, and they both swallowed. “You can kiss me.” A beat. “It won’t- It won’t change anything between us.”

“Just two bros exploring their- their sexuality together, right?”

Buck snorted, moving closer to his best friend as he set his beer bottle down on the coaster on the coffee table. Eddie rolled his eyes fondly at the gesture, because he himself wouldn’t have bothered with the coaster at all. But Buck, Buck always did.

“Come here,” Buck mumbled, as he was taking Eddie’s beer from his hand to set it down on the coaster beside his own. Eddie was watching him closely, every single movement. Then Buck turned back to him, a soft breathless laugh escaping him. “Just… Kiss me how you would kiss M- a girl.”

A close slip-up. He almost dropped the name of Eddie’s most recent ex. He was never fully able to get over the issues with the nun outfit. The catholic guilt becoming too much, is what he had explained to Buck when he said they had broken up.

“You’re too delicate for that,” Eddie teased, but he was moving closer. Their thighs were touching now, and Eddie’s hand raised to his cheek. His thumb brushing against the soft, pink flesh there. His fingers gently cupping the underside of Buck’s jaw. And Buck waited, watching. Allowing Eddie to take this at his pace, like Tommy had allowed for him.

Then Eddie’s soft, plump lips were brushing against his own. Then it was chaste. A delicate kiss. Lips against lips. No movement of any kind, not even tongue. Just two men pressing their mouths together.

Then it was Eddie, tracing his thumb along Buck’s jaw as his mouth started to move against his best friends. Leaning in, exploring this sensation.

For Buck, this was better than his first kiss with Tommy. The stubble-burn, the way Eddie’s nose brushed against his cheekbone. The masculine grip of Eddie’s fingers holding his jaw. That was all new, and it was similar to what he experienced with Tommy. But it was just… better.

And then Eddie was pulling away, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. It was a lot, and he had forgotten how to breathe. Because that’s what Evan Buckley does to him. Knocked him senseless and leaves him breathless.

“I… am definitely not straight.” Those were the first words out of Eddie’s mouth after the pair had slowly opened their eyes, looking right back at each other. And… this was new. And Buck was excited. Because he now gets to help his best friend learn about his sexuality.

[lucycore]

How about one where Paul Stanley gets turned on by a fan who happens to be a tomboy, but there's just something about her that gets him going, so much so that he wants to "pleasure himself in the dressing room when he's alone", and the reader walks by overhearing it thinking he's not feeling good, so she comes in and realizes what's up and, yeah😏😏😏🤣🤣🤣🤣

Thx for your request <3 hope u like it and sorry that it took so long.

[Kiss]

Paul Stanley x Tomboy reader

⚠️ Smut ⚠️

—

The boys were getting ready for the show. U were new and it was ur first day as a stylist so u were led by a lady that worked a bit longer with Kiss to show u what u have to do and how u have to do it. She told u to help Paul Ace with his costume so that's what u did. While helping Ace to fix his costume, he made little jokes to make u laugh as he noticed that u were very shy at ur first day. Your giggled shyly at the beginning but got more comfortable with time and even laughed later.

Paul was sitting and doing his make up while looking to the side from time to time hearing you laugh. At first he was like "whatever" but then when he turned around to really look at Ace who was annoying him, he noticed u.

A blushing and laughing, cute tomboy. He was surprised cuz usually the girls dress really girly around the band or just comfortable to work but u were different. He somehow liked ur style which was weird but something about u and the ur style really turned him on.

Paul stood up and walked over to Gene, telling him that the show has to start a few hours later cuz he doesn't feel well and has to go to his room to chill a bit. Gene of course nodded and let him go with a worried look in his eyes.

" Y/n can u please get some new hairspray, we ran out of two big bottles." A worker asked u.

"Sure but where can I find them?" U asked.

"In the end of the long hallway where the boys room are and then just left."

"Alright, gotcha" U nodded and went out to get them.

While walking past Pauls room u heard a weird noise coming from Pauls room. U knew that he didn't feel well so u stopped by his door and looked at it.

"Should I check if he's ok or just leave him alone?" U thought, standing there for good 3 minutes not being sure. After thinking for a while u got urself to knock at his door but apparently he didn't hear it cuz u didn't get an answer so u just walked in. I mean how had could it be right?

U opened the door and flinched at seeing Paul sitting on his couch with his dick out in his hand. That's like the worst thing that could happen when u just walk in. Seeing Pauls dick.

U quickly apologized many times and Paul flinched as well when he saw u coming in, trying to hide his member what didn't really work. The two of u were so shocked that u just started apologizing and him telling u that it's ok at the same time.

After calming down a bit a big smirk appeared on the starchilds lips.

"Why don't u come in?" He said.

U shyly looked up and nodded slightly before closing the door behind u and just standing there with your hand holding ur second arm in a shy way.

"I'm sorry that I just walked in..I heard noise so I thought something happened and that u maybe need hel-" Paul cut u off.

"It's okay darling. I'm perfectly fine as u can see." He smirked.

"And now that ur here, why don't u help me out a bit? I mean the show must go on and the fans are waiting. U caused the problem."

U didn't move an inch still looking down.

"Come here" he said ina friendly manner.

U looked up a bit and sat down beside him on the couch.

"Why don't u fix the big problem?" He said calmly.

"I will" u overcame ur shyness what got him surprised a little.

U smirked at him and got down on ur knees.

First u stroke his long member to make him even harder and after that u let his tip slide between ur lips which made him groan deeply. U smirked and after a while started sucking it and playing with his balls. From time to time u licked them even what made Paul go crazy.

He grabbed onto your hair and moved it himself as he was close to cumming. After a while he cummed in your mouth letting his cum drip down your throat. When he pulled out of your mouth he opened his cabin to get a condom out. U quickly sat up to take it from him and put it over his dick.

"Strip" He commanded but in a warm not command kind of voice.

U obediently stood up and started striping. His eyes wandered from your breasts all the way down to your legs. When u were completely naked he told u to sit on him. U did as told and started slowly moving up and down feeling his dick deep inside u making u moan out. His big hands made his way from your waist to your breasts, squeezing them. With time u got quicker with riding him what made u both moan at the same time but u still being slightly louder than him. Your hands were resting on his chest while u looked down into his brown eyes, then kissed him.

While riding his hands stroke over your whole body down to your butt where he placed a little spank that made u flinch a little. As he saw that u liked it he did it again and again. After a good amount of fucking u were ready to cum as he hit your g spot just perfectly, making u see and feel heaven. U moaned that u had to cum, he nodded and also started reaching his climax. While he started thrusting into u as u were riding him, u gripe on his shoulders tightened. U felt every muscle of u clenching up and getting tighter around him. His dick started twitching and his breathing became faster. Seconds later the both u cummed at the same time. U gasped out loudly as u felt his load fill u up. After thrusting into u a few times more, he leaned back and breathed out. U rested ur whole body on his chest and cuddled into him, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck that was so good." His eyes were closed and his breathing became calmer but heavier.

"Are u feeling better now?" U smirked and looked up at him.

He laughed a little and nodded. "I do. Thank u nurse". He smacked ur butt and after cuddling for a while u put your clothes back on, got the hairspray and went back to the rest of the group.

[seasidewanderers]

How Did I Even Get Here? Or As I Like To Call It, How I Became Syscourse Informed

I've been meaning to make this post for a while. I've been in syscourse for years now, more precisely from I think it was 2019. So for those curious of how even does one get into syscourse... Here's all the lore and backstory.

I'll put it under a cut. Read with extreme caution if you choose to, it's... gonna get ugly in here

Warnings: long ass post; talking about trauma, drug and alcohol abuse, self harm/suicide, psychosis

I had just started university and everything was going to shit. Yeah, I like cold opens alright. You should read my stories. A-hem. I had just started university. I was struggling to make friends - I never had friends before university - I had just shaved all of my hair off. New beginning and all that. My grades in high school weren't stellar but I was managing, while in uni it went all down the drain within the first month.

Living alone meant I could be doing everything I could ever dream of! Getting blackout drunk almost every night. I was buying a bottle of gin and a pack of Monster Ultra White cans to mix in my personal gin and Monster tonic every other day. I was an already psychotic teenager fighting regular psychosis with alcohol induced psychosis, having so many nightmares I was consuming the equivalent of 15-20 espressos a day just to stay awake. The only times I managed to get more than 3 hours of sleep I was near comatose. I wish I was misusing the word.

I was near constantly actively delusional.

(I've talked about it once or twice in here in the context of delusions related to trauma and DID, my most prominent delusion is related to survivor's guilt and early infancy medical trauma. I still get episodes, though now it's more chronic bizarre thoughts and sporadic psychotic depression)

In a year, I left my dormitory room to be with other people in the dormitory exactly once.

I also got to know a guy who turned out to be a drug dealer. I mean, a really nice guy otherwise. He never got me on hard drugs (it was his personal policy to not start someone who has never done hard drugs on hard drugs, and I had mad respect for that lad); he did otherwise just give me stuff if I asked for it. Mainly it was sleeping pills.

I was minding my business with a mix of alcohol, tranquillisers and caffeine up until a point where I took a little too much, fell asleep in class, and couldn't wake up no matter how much my friend was trying to get me awake. I got rushed to the ER and now I'm banned from taking sleeping pills again. Somehow my liver is intact though! Yay

So... what does it have to do with syscourse, you might ask. And you'd be absolutely right to ask.

Nothing and everything. I discovered my system eventually in university. I started noticing that even when I was not drinking, I wouldn't remember shit anyway (which only made me drink more, if I'm not to remember anything, why bother staying sober?)

I then started noticing that I didn't remember anything. About anything. My childhood is a blank. Middle and high school is so fragmented I have no idea what happened, and the few memories I have I'd rather forget.

So what does a 19-20 years old with no friends, almost always drunk, lots of the time high as a kite, forgetful and incredibly depressed, do with their free time?

Tumblr. I started out with looking up people who were talking about ADHD, thinking my forgetfulness was poor attention; then nothing really clicked, so I moved on to mood disorders spaces, thinking it was just depression; then again, yes I do have depression, it's been terrible for many years now, but stable enough, so the sudden heightening of forgetting and not being "really there" didn't really make sense to my depression.

By the end of the school year in June by means that I don't fully remember, I landed in system spaces. First just people talking about being plural, then I discovered the pit full of burning acid that is syscourse.

It actually wasn't so bad for me at first, but I was having a nice time online because I was just following that handful of blogs that I liked, and also I wasn't active in syscourse, just lurking around like a bog creature.

When I started expanding my niche of syscourse blogs, it was... something for sure though. I didn't understand why people were fighting. I didn't understand why everyone is so awful all the time. I get that spaces filled with trauma survivors are bound to get emotionally charged, and as the old adage goes, hurt people hurt people. I get that rationally, I get the anger, sadness, and grief, but I wouldn't imagine taking my frustration out on a passerby who's not the cause of my trauma. I don't get being mean on purpose.

At some point a few years ago I stumbled upon @sysmedsaresexist and @thecircularsystem (or rather, circulars-reasoning and circular-bircular)

If I remember correctly, they were both anti endo when I got to their blogs, and I was very pro endo. I didn't, and still don't, have any reason not to be.

I started reading everything they were putting out. Every little link and file they shared got under a microscope by my part.

Part of it was just paranoia - I know they're saying something terrible. There has to be something in there that says endos are all murderers or something and I'll be in so, so much trouble for being pro endo.

Part of it was just curiosity - what do they have to say? Let me take a look at that.

And then... There was absolutely nothing that made me believe they hated me specifically (more broadly, nothing in their resources that disproved the existence of endogenic plurality, but at the time that to me was equal to "if you're pro endo I hate your face and I'll be stabbing you in a dark alley first chance I get")

And... I loosened up a bit. I still didn't properly talk to them until this year, after SAS' Changing Mindsets post, and I can say I regret not reaching out sooner. I kept reading everything they were putting out, laughing at memes, and asked lots of questions. I tried going at it with more and more curiosity and less and less fear of stepping out of an imagined line.

It didn't always go well. I am very paranoid and it takes very little for me to retract into my shell like a turtle. But! I made a lot of progress with that, too. I also learned that a) I don't have to immediately respond to asks, comments, etc out of impulse or anger, I can actually take my time! and b) I don't have to reply at all if I don't want to!!! How great is that!!!!!

I don't know why people keep saying that you can't be friends with pro/antis. That's what I needed to do! I needed to get the fuck out of my own head, get to know other people, talk to them, see where they're coming from.

Though I wouldn't say I'm friends with them exactly, simply because friend to me has a specific connotation, but they are nice people who I love talking to. Who'd have thought the Scary Anti Endo could be *reads notes* a person with their own interests and hobbies?? Oh SHIT this is NEW.

Enough talking about my background, over to the thanks, like it's my wedding day and y'all are my best men.

Circ, Dude (and all other SAS mods, though I know half of you half as much as I would like), thank you. You've done a lot for me even if you didn't know who the fuck I was until two or three months ago. You threw some PDFs and links over to my general direction and, man, I needed that.

I've been very bad. And then I've been slightly better, and then very bad again, and I'm better again. This time I don't plan on going very bad again though. I hope I can get better every day.