#for it to be as hard as it was for me to consider running from a much tamer situation and while I was the healthiest athlete point of mylife

[virgosimulator]

My boyfriend shared this post with me and as an Accessibility Studies Minor (literally was so niche and new the major didn't exist until after I graduated), I just have to respond. (and I am so excited to do so!)

I’m going to have to play this game, even if it's not specifically about disability, because it’s so exciting to see someone actually doing disability theory work. I know disability scholars are out there, but our community is fractured and so pushed underground it's very hard to connect. I so often only see opinions about disability written exactly as OP says, black or white. Good guy vs Bad guy. And most often by people who do not identify as disabled, or are disabled and are only drawing on personal experience (which is great, but there's much more to consider!)

I am most passionate about Universal Design which is a field of study that…almost doesn’t exist it’s so niche, despite the fact that it concerns itself with everyone. I wanted to move across the country (America) to join the only Universal Design lab in the world (general, NOT UD for Education, which there is a lot for), originally created and run by the author of the Universal Design manual, Ronald L. Mace (he died 1988). Unfortunately, it had shut down just a few years before I even encountered the phrase "Universal Design." (I just googled it but couldn't find a date, I believe it closed in 2010 but I don't know that for sure.)

In any case, one of the core tenants of Universal Design, the core issue it seeks to resolve, is that all people have conflicting needs. In class we often talked about this in terms of one type of disability vs another (sensory vs mobility, for example), but really it’s ability vs ability. Sidewalk safety is a good example as curb cuts (where sidewalks slope downward to meet with the road usually between pedestrian intersections) are 100% necessary for people using wheelchairs, however they can be challenging for people walking on foot who have low mobility. They can also be dangerous for blind persons. Some added accomadations have been a bumpy texture to let blind people know by touch that the sidewalk is sloping, bright caution yellow paint for people with low vision. However, if these curb cuts aren’t maintained properly, especially with added bumpy textures, something could happen like when I was in highschool a girl flipped her motorized wheelchair onto herself because the curb cut was too steep and the road. Instead of being a benefit to everyone, it probably killed her and her accident could have caused a corresponding car accident.

And, by nature of expressing how disability (and some accomodations) can be bad for everyone, OP is also alluding to the truth that accessibility options have the potential to help everyone. You do not need to be “unable to work” to have a different set of abilities and needs from another person. Trying to design a universally accessible world is actually limited by thinking of it in terms of “disability.”

I didn't have a point to this really, I was just so excited to share some of my education with people who might actually be interested. Oh, some might be happy to hear it does appear there is a non profit called RL Mace Universal Design Institute which is keeping his work alive, thank goodness. Perhaps I will reach out and see if they have any education or research opportunities.

something I don’t get about the disability metaphor is that for eureka monsters obviously it harms another person to eat them. the help a disabled person needs doesn’t actively harm or kill another person. Maybe it’s a difference in perspectives that cannot be resolved

(What I’m about to write could potentially sound very fucked up at first so I’m going to need to trust everyone to read the whole thing before forming an opinion.)

Also this message and response references these two posts.

Eureka’s stance on disabled people is that they (including myself writing this) are, or at least can often be, burdens.

Disabled people often require more resources to live than they are able to “give back,” which, in our capitalist and artificial-scarcity-based economy, is just about the worst thing a person can do.

Anti-ableism sentiment often focuses on the idea that “disabled people aren’t burdens, that they’re just as good and capable as everyone else,” but if they were, they wouldn’t be “disabled” would they? When you say stuff like that, you’re conceding that a person’s worth is determined by how capable they are at doing work, and then having to bend over backwards to justify thinking that a person without arms is just as valuable as a person with arms. Eureka is asking you to decouple a person’s value from how much net resources they can produce.

Often times also, the resources that real disabled people consume are human resources, and those human resources are very much capable of suffering for it. Nurses are overworked, around-the-clock care is absolutely physically and mentally exhausting, people who have to care for their elderly or otherwise disabled relatives on top of their regular jobs don’t get to have social lives or hobbies, etc.

To this end, we wrote the monsters in Eureka to be unquestionably people who “cause damage” to society by literally eating up human resources, because they have to to live, they have no other choice unless they want to just die. Your friend is gone from your life because he has to spend all his free time caring for his comatose wife after a freak car accident. Your friend is gone from your life because a vampire randomly ate him. Providing a metaphor isn't all the monsters are doing, they just work well through that lens.

And then Eureka forces you to look at these people as people, and make up your mind as to whether they have value and a right to prologue their own existence. We can’t force you to agree that they do, but if you think they don’t, then you’ll have to make that argument looking at an intelligent person with a life rather than a pure hypothetical or statistics on a chart.

There are some monsters in Eureka where, if the economy or societal structures were changed, they would stop being such severe drains on resources and could exist harmlessly within society, and there are some monsters where no imaginable amount of societal change would solve the problems they cause. This is true of disabled people IRL as well. Some of them would require no further assistance with living if certain things about society changed, and others would still require a massive amount of human resources.

And even when it’s not necessarily human resources, the extra resources that disabled people need also cause huge energy expenditure and create huge amounts of plastic waste, which are things that contribute to global warming and pollution, which do have significant harmful effects on everyone’s lives. Despite this, they are still “worth it” to keep around.

As for actively causing harm, that happens too. I randomly scrolled past this post after we got this message and saved it so I could link it here.

This person and their family had to cause a big stink in a restaurant just to get an accommodation that they needed, and to us reading it from their perspective, we’re obviously on their side, but I can assure you that the overworked staff at that restaurant didn’t see it that way. They saw the disabled person as an aggressive Karen whom they would never in a million years want to have to provide customer service to. The disabled person & family had to get aggressive, and ruin the staff’s day, to get what they needed. That’s actively causing harm - harm we all agreed was justified to cause - but harm nonetheless.

Plastic straws aren’t that big of a deal for global pollution, but even if they were, the point is that this person still would have needed a straw. It doesn’t line up one-to-one, because metaphors rarely do, but a vampire asking if they can drink someone’s blood, and being told No, may find themselves in much the same position. (And if you bring up that some people find vampires really sexy, you’re missing the point. “I would give them a straw if they had sex with me.” is not actually a great thing to announce about yourself.)

I can also come up with an example from my own life. I personally am very sensitive to noise and noise pollution. If there’s music playing at a public space, I usually can’t handle it. (Earplugs don’t work for other reasons I won’t get into - plus, if I just deafen myself to all sound, how can I socialize with anyone in this public space?)

If I want to exist in this space, I will have to actively cause harm to everyone there, or else stop existing in that space. I will have to go up to whoever is responsible and ask them to turn off the music, actively taking it away from everyone else who was enjoying it. I have to take action to ruin their good time if I want to exist in that space at all, and they might, very understandably, be pissed off at me for doing that. Because, like I said in this other post, the people that monsters eat do have a right to prevent themselves from being eaten by monsters. We aren't proposing that the solution is everyone has to line up to be mauled to death by monsters or else they're a bad person.

Who has a greater right to enjoy themselves in that space? That’s the kind of question that Eureka poses, and makes you consider both sides as human being rather than denoting one as just an ontologically evil villain to be destroyed.

We actually don't know of perfect solutions to all the problems presented by the existance of monsters in Eureka, we just know that "exterminate all people who are parasites and burdens to society" ain't it.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

P.S. Do You Still Love Me Pt2

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Pt1

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

Body Paragraph: I made a mistake.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

No matter how much time passed from you and Jisung's breakup, you weren't able to shake the immense amount of affection and love you still had for him. Maybe it was because three months was barely enough time to even begin considering moving on, or maybe it was because you knew deep down that you might never fully move on. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from watching his lives, his promotions, his every appearance. Each time, it was impossible to ignore just how sad he looked.

The way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore- how his usual spark seemed dimmer. Even the fans noticed. The comments under his videos were filled with concern: "Jisung, are you okay? You've lost weight…" and "Stay strong, Han, we’re here for you!" It made your heart ache. You knew that expression on his face, the one that tried so hard to look okay but didn’t quite make it. You could see through the mask, and it only made you miss him more.

With a heavy sigh, you sank back into the cushions of your sofa, staring at your phone's screen when a notification popped up, making you jolt.

Kyungsoo. A colleague and friend.

You swallowed hard, feeling the guilt settle like a heavy weight in your chest as you opened the message. After your breakup you had gone out with him to a few dinners- and those were not considered dates at all by you considering they were company events. But even so you felt weird hanging out with another man; and although your friendship was extremley strong- the year you spent with Jisung you decided not to focus on it as much to show respect to Jisung. And now that you were "free" as Kyungsoo put it, things felt different and the thought unsettled you.

Kyungsoo: Y/N, you need to go out tonight. Meet me at 7.

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his efforts; you just weren’t sure you had the energy to plaster on a smile and pretend that everything was okay. But your hubae was persistent, and you knew he wouldn’t take "no" for an answer.

You: I don't know if I'm up for it.

His reply was almost immediate.

Kyungsoo: You need this, trust me. I’ll be there with you the whole time. Please, just come.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Maybe he was right. Maybe a distraction was exactly what you needed to stop yourself from spiraling even deeper.

You: Okay. See you at 7.

Setting your phone aside, you let out a long breath, your heart still heavy. You had to do this. For yourself. Maybe even for Jisung- because if he was moving on, then maybe, just maybe, you needed to try too.

It wasn’t about forgetting him. It was about surviving without him.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling that familiar pang of uncertainty creep up. The same old doubts returned, and for a moment, you almost wanted to cancel. But Kyungsoo’s message echoed in your mind: “You need this.”

You shook your head, brushing off the weight of it. You could do this. It wasn’t about moving on completely but about taking small steps forward.

At exactly 6:57 PM, your doorbell rang.

You grabbed your jacket quickly, heading towards the door. When you opened it, Kyungsoo was standing there, holding a small bag of snacks in his hand, his usual smile soft but genuine.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice full of concern but laced with warmth. He placed the snacks on your table by the door and gestured to them, just to make sure you knew they were for you for later.

You gave a small nod, trying to hide the unease that still lingered in your chest. "Yeah, let's go."

He didn't waste any time, leading you down the hallway, his presence a calming force that eased the tension you hadn't even realized was building. The walk to the car was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. Kyungsoo didn’t push you to talk, and somehow, that made it easier to breathe.

As you settled into the passenger seat of his car, he shot you a glance before pulling away from the curb. "I know this isn't easy for you, but I want you to remember that you don’t have to be okay right now. Just take it one step at a time, alright?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a flicker of relief wash over you at his words. He had always been the kind of friend who didn’t force anything on you, but when he spoke, it felt like he always knew exactly what you needed to hear. The car ride passed quickly, filled with light chatter that made the time slip by unnoticed. Kyungsoo was good at distracting you.

When you arrived at the cafe, it wasn’t as crowded as usual, just a few people scattered here and there. He parked and turned to face you. "Let's grab some coffee. Everything on me tonight."

As you stepped out of the car, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of the background music. You weren’t sure what all Kyungsoo had planned, but the quiet vibe of the place felt comforting- almost like a shield against the memories of Jisung that lingered in the back of your mind.

He led you inside, ordering your usual without asking, and you couldn't help but smile at how well he knew you. He handed you the warm cup of coffee, the steam rising and soothing the cold air around you.

You took a sip, expecting your favorite drink to wash a nice feeling over you but instead you found yourself wincing at the flavor.

It's bitter...

"Jagiyaaaa, try this! I know it might be sweet but doesn't that make it just like me?" Jisung wiggled his brows at you. "Its no fun to drink bitter stuff all the time try this its called- a caramel mocha latte! Its warm and delicous." He held his cup out to you and you took a sip.

"Mm. It sweet. And very warm...it is just like you Oppa~"

"Ah...I'm old enough to be your Oppa? No, No, No. Don't remind me. Seungmin will call me old if he hears you say that..."

"Seonbae?" You looked at Kyungsoo who was looking at you adamantly.

He's younger than Ji...

"Hm?"

"I said I think we both needed this, but the real fun part comes later."

You raised an eyebrow, slightly curious but still cautious. "What do you mean?"

Kyungsoo’s grin widened, and with that, he pulled out two tickets from his jacket pocket. "Karaoke. We're going to sing our hearts out. You can thank me later." He said with a wink. For a second, you were taken aback. You hadn’t sung in front of anyone ever, really. Just Jisung and and Seungmin by accident once. But Kyungsoo’s determination was contagious. He handed you a ticket, his expression turning serious, if only for a moment. "You’ll feel better, I promise."

You hesitated, the inner turmoil warring with the quiet anticipation of trying something new. After a beat, you nodded. "Okay."

The sound of music and laughter spilled from the karaoke bar as you arrived, and it sent a small jolt of nervousness through you.

The room he had rented was intimate, just the two of you. Kyungsoo picked the first song, and to your surprise, he chose something lighthearted, an upbeat tune that had your foot tapping before the first note had even finished.

He handed you the microphone, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Your turn."

You looked at him, and despite everything, despite the ache that still lingered, you smiled- just a little. "You’re lucky you’re my friend, Kyungsoo." As you sang, you felt the tension begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of freedom that was slowly returning.

It wasn’t about forgetting Jisung. It was about remembering that you still deserved to smile, to laugh, and to feel alive again.

The night at the karaoke bar flew by. You agreed to just a few drinks to lighten your mood, to forget the weight that had been pulling you down for months. But a few drinks turned into a few bottles and everything had taken a turn you hadn't anticipated.

The alcohol had hit you way harder than expected, numbing your senses and making you laugh at things that weren't even funny. And you realized this night that had meant to be fun, became a night of self pity. Kyungsoo had stayed by your side all night, a little too close, a little too eager, and you barely noticed how his eyes lingered on you in a way they never had before.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the warmth of the room, or maybe it was the pain you were still trying to hide. But suddenly, Kyungsoo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours before you even registered what was happening.

But in an instant you knew.

It was wrong- everything about it was wrong.

Your heart was pounding, your mind a mess of confusion. You pulled back sharply, stumbling a bit in your drunken state, your voice slurring as you pushed him away.

"No… I can’t-"

But the words caught in your throat, your thoughts spinning. You turned on your heel, barely able to see straight as you bolted out of the karaoke room and into the cool night air. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you needed to get away. Far away. From Kyungsoo, from the kiss that shouldn’t have happened, from the memories that haunted you.

You didn't know how the night could turn to this.

You could hear him calling your name, his voice desperate, but you didn’t stop. Your feet carried you away, down darkened streets and unfamiliar alleys, the city lights blurring as tears stung your eyes. The alcohol made you reckless, made you forget where you were even headed. All you knew was that you needed to escape.

Kyungsoo watched you disappear into the night, his heart hammering in his chest. He had messed up- he knew that the moment you had pushed him away, the look in your eyes a clear sign he had crossed a line. Panic set in as he rushed back in and fumbled for his phone, the alcohol making his hands shake. Your phone was still on the table where you’d left it. He grabbed it, his fingers shaking as he scrolled through the contacts.

Jisung.

Kyungsoo hesitated for a second before pressing the call button, his pulse racing as the line rang. It was late, and he wasn’t sure if Jisung would even pick up, but he had no other choice.

After a few tense moments, there was a click. "Hello?" Jisung’s voice was groggy, a mixture of confusion and irritation. As if he was just woken up. "Who is this?"

"It’s Kyungsoo," he blurted out, his words spilling over each other. "I - messed up, man. Y/N’s gone, she just ran out, and I don’t know where she went. She’s drunk, and I-"

"Where are you? Why do you have Y/N-ah's phone?" Jisung’s voice cut through the panic, suddenly alert. Kyungsoo could hear the rustling of sheets, the creaking of a couch- the sound of movement.

"We were at the karaoke bar near downtown," Kyungsoo said, his voice shaking. “She just took off, and I don’t-"

"I swear to God if you hurt her I'll end you." Jisung snapped, his tone cold and controlled. "Don't go after her. Leave her phone at the front desk. I’ll find her."

The call ended abruptly, and Kyungsoo stared at the phone, his stomach churning with guilt. He knew he had overstepped, and he could only hope that Jisung knew you well enough to find you quick.

Meanwhile, Jisung was already out the door, his mind racing. His instincts kicked in as he navigated the familiar streets, the bitter cold biting at his skin. He knew you- he knew where you went when you were overwhelmed, where you hid when things became too much. And if you were as lost and broken as he feared, there was only one place you would go. The playground. The one you guys had claimed as your own secret spot. It was the place where you'd laugh until your sides hurt, where you’d shared quiet conversations under the stars, where you had been the happiest.

His heart pounded as he rounded the corner, the familiar sight of the deserted playground coming into view. Relief washed over him when he saw a figure slumped on the swings, barely visible in the dim light. It was you- your shoulders hunched, head bowed, a picture of defeat and loneliness. And your eyes were red and puffy as you frowned at a pile of your throw up- causing an audible sigh from Jisung.

How'd she get so shitfaced...?

"Y/N," he called out, his voice hoarse with emotion, and you looked up, your eyes red and glassy, confusion crossing your face as you saw him standing there.

"J-Jisung?" you mumbled, barely able to focus as the alcohol fogged your mind. The sight of him sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over you, and you choked back a sob. "Why are you here?"

He didn’t answer right away. He just walked over, his expression a mixture of anger and concern, as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes searching yours.

"You disappeared," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Kyungsoo called me. He said you ran off. Why didn’t you call me? Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head, unable to find the words, unable to explain the turmoil inside you. Everything hurt- your heart, your head, the betrayal you felt when Kyungsoo kissed you, the betrayal you felt when Jisung left you.

"He kissed me which was gross. And you left me which was...also gross." you finally managed to say. "You left, and I don’t even know why. Pabo." You pouted.

Your eyes were half-lidded, and your face was flushed from the alcohol, but he couldn’t help but smile at how ridiculous the whole situation was. You were a mess, and it was breaking his heart while simultaneously filling it.

"Y/N," he called gently, his voice full of concern as he knelt down in front of you. “Can you stand up for me? Or do you need help?"

You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused as you swiveled your head side to side, the world tilting and spinning. "I’m… I’m fine," you slurred, shaking your head like you could shake the dizziness away. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself and stand, but the next thing you knew, the swing tipped just a little too far forward, and you were flung off, landing face-first into the mulch.

The crunch of the wood chips beneath you was the only thing you heard as you felt the rough ground scrape against your cheek. "Ughh…" you groaned, spitting out a few pieces of wood chips from your mouth. You sat up and wiped your face, blinking like you didn’t quite realize what had just happened. You pouted and looked up at Jisung.

He stood there, frozen for a second as he took in the sight of you sprawled out on the ground, covered in mulch, with a strange combination of tenderness and amusement. "Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling down to gently pull you up by your arms.

You squinted at him through the fog of drunkenness, your face twisting in confusion. "I…I’m fine. I’m just…It tastes like dirt." You spit out a few pieces.

Jisung let out a small breath as he pulled you up. "Alright lets get you-

"What’s a squirrel’s purpose in life, huh?” you blurted, your words slurring together as you stared at him intently.

"A squirrel?" Jisung repeated, blinking in confusion.

“Yeah…" you exclaimed earnestly, tapping your head dramatically. "Do you think squirrels...feel stuck in life?"

He stared at you, utterly bewildered by the random thought, but then you laughed, and it was like all the confusion melted away.

"You know…I think squirrels must get stuck, because…they run around all the time looking for nuts…and that's all they do. They do the same things over and over again...and it's sad to watch...because nothing changes. They stay sad and by themselves..." you trailed off, your eyes suddenly going glassy and melanchoy in thought as if you were some 21st century philospher. "Just like…just like…you."

"Me?" Jisung blinked, the mention of his name snapping him back into focus. “What do you mean by that?”

Your eyes became wide and you stammered. "UM- I'm not saying youre a squirrel or like comparing you to a squirrel I just meant uh...I like you...and...you’re like a squirrel not one just like one- but with…more hair and less fur." You reached to pet his head but instead accidentally slapped his face lightly.

Jisung’s mouth hung open for a moment as he tried to process the sheer absurdity of your drunken ramblings. "Y/N- you’re drunk off your mind and have no ideas what you're yapping about. Lets go home-"

"But I’m not ready to go!" you whined, stumbling as you tried to walk, but you couldn’t quite keep your balance.

"I know you’re not," Jisung said, holding your arm so you wouldn’t fall again. "But we’re going to get you some food and water, then go home okay? You can sleep your craziness off."

You let out a half-hearted protest, but in the end, you let him lead you.

As Jisung led you into the convenience store, your stumbling steps and flushed face made you look like you were on the verge of collapse. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a stark light over your disheveled appearance.

The store clerk, a young guy who looked barely out of high school, watched the two of you enter, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He eyed your unsteady gait, the way Jisung was holding your arm to keep you from falling over, and the slurred way you were giggling to yourself.

"Uh…is everything alright?" the clerk asked, his tone hesitant, glancing between Jisung’s worried expression and your obviously inebriated state. His gaze was sharp, like he was assessing whether he needed to call the authorities.

Jisung quickly picked up on the guy’s alarm, his face turning serious as he tried to explain. "She’s just drunk. We’re fine, I promise," he said, his voice soft and calm. "I’m just trying to get her home safely."

The clerk didn’t look convinced, his brow furrowing even deeper. "Are you sure she’s okay?" he pressed, looking pointedly at your droopy eyes and swaying posture.

"She’s my… girlfriend," Jisung said, his voice catching slightly on the word. "She had a bit too much to drink, but I’m taking care of her." His expression was so genuine, so protective, that it seemed to ease the clerk’s suspicion, though he still looked wary.

You, blissfully unaware of the awkward exchange happening just a few feet away, had spotted a shelf of snacks and suddenly veered off in that direction, nearly toppling over in the process. "Ooh, chips!" you exclaimed, reaching for a bag with unsteady hands.

"Y/N, come here," Jisung whisper shouted, guiding you away from the snacks and back toward him. The clerk seemed to relax a little, nodding slowly, but his eyes still lingered on the two of you as if unsure whether to believe Jisung’s story.

Once you were safely by Jisung’s side again, you suddenly reached up and tugged at his hat, a playful grin spreading across your face. "Sungie, why are you wearing this dumb hat?" you asked, your voice a little too loud for the quiet store. "Take it off! It’s hiding your cute face."

Jisung’s eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed your wrists to stop you from pulling the hat off. "No, no, no," he said hurriedly, his cheeks flushing as he tried to keep his voice low. "I need my hat, okay? People can’t see who I am."

"Why not?" you pouted, tugging harder. "Are you hiding something? Are you like…a secret agent?"

Jisung let out a sigh, trying to keep his grip gentle despite your drunken insistence. "No, I’m not a secret agent, Y/N," he said with a strained voice. "I just…don’t want anyone recognizing me right now. Can you please let me keep my hat?"

You paused, your brow furrowing in deep, drunken concentration, before you finally relented with a dramatic sigh. "Fiiiine," you said, letting go of his hat, but not before giving it one last tug. "But only because you asked so nicely."

Jisung breathed a sigh of relief, releasing your wrists as he gently guided you toward the back of the store, away from the curious gaze of the clerk. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice full of affection even though he was clearly exasperated.

You just giggled, seeming entirely pleased with yourself, as if you’d just won some kind of small victory.

As you guys stood at the drink cooler you pressed your face to the glass.

"Chocolate milk…" you sighed happily. "I want chocolate milk."

Jisung’s smile faltered. "Y/N, I don’t think thats the best option. How about cucumber water?" he suggested, pulling a bottle from the cooler.

"NO!" you screeched, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout. "I want chocolate milk! It’s my favorite!”

Jisung sighed, shaking his head. "Chocolate milk it is."

As he made his way to the counter, you looked around, your gaze landing on something that made your eyes widen.

"What… what’s that?!" you pointed, half-shouting, and Jisung followed your gaze to see what you were looking at. His eyes immediately widened.

"Y/N," he said, his voice tight, "Don’t-"

It was a box of condoms, sitting on the counter in full view. You stared at them for a moment, your drunken mind processing the absurdity of the situation. Then you looked up at Jisung with wide eyes.

"Wait…they're condoms!" you said way louder than you knew you were speaking. "You…you think I should get those?"

Jisung’s face immediately flushed red, and he shook his head in panic. "No, Y/N, don’t-"

“Why not? Are we…not doing it?” You blinked, slurring your words. “I mean, we’re both…um…we’re both virgins, right? So...don't we need..."

Jisung’s cheeks burned brighter as he desperately tried to change the subject. Looking at the cashier frantically. "Y/N, please. Don’t make this weird. Lets just get you to bed."

You looked at him for a long moment before bursting into uncontrollable giggles. "I think squirrels need condoms," you said randomly, then paused, as if considering it deeply. "But…I dunno. Do squirrels even have…sex? Or do they wait until their married, too? Or do they not wait- do you think that they love the same squirrel forever?" You looked at the box in a daze. "Extra small- Ji what siz-"

Jisung’s face was now entirely red, his hand clamping over your mouth.

"Okay, that’s enough of that. Put those back." he said through gritted teeth, flustered, as he quickly led you away, throwing the box on some odd shelf. His heart was pounding, his embarrassment sky-high. "Y/N, we're leaving- now." Jisung said, slamming a random bill on the counter and grabbing you and your milk, dragging you out the store.

What the actual fuck is going on right now...shes a completley different person hammered. And why does she keep talking about squirrels? Is this her drunken habit?

You looked at the bottle of milk, frowning as you stared at it. "Why did I want chocolate milk? This is so dumb…I want strawberry milk," you said, your voice starting to quiver with drunken frustration.

Jisung couldn’t help but groan. "Y/N...Just… let’s get you home, okay? We can order strawberry milk when you're sober."

You nodded with a pout, but then suddenly, your face contorted. "I’m gonna throw up again." you muttered, and before Jisung could react, you were turned to him, your stomach heaving as you suddenly emptied the contents of your stomach all over his zipped up jacket.

"Oops, sorry Jisung...you were the closest..." you slurred weakly, looking up at him with a trembling pout. "I-I'm sorry-" You cried wailing as Jisung took a deep breath.

Lord Almighty please help me.

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment, summoning every ounce of patience he had left. The smell was already starting to hit him, and he cringed, but when he opened his eyes again and saw your tear-streaked face, his annoyance melted away. You were a mess- an adorable, chaotic, and incredibly drunk mess- but a mess he cared about more than he wanted to admit at the moment.

"It’s okay," he said, his voice soft despite the situation. "It’s just a jacket. Don’t cry, okay?" He said petting your hair softly.

"But it’s your favorite jacket!" you wailed, your voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. "You always wear it in your lives! Stay will notice!"

Jisung suppressed a laugh, not wanting to embarrass you further. "I think they’ll survive, jagiya. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up."

He glanced at the jacket and sighed, carefully pulling it off and draping it over a nearby bench, knowing there was no saving it tonight.

As you walked- or stumbled -alongside him, you hiccuped, clinging to your half-empty milk like it was a lifeline. "You’re so…nice, JiJi," you slurred, resting your head against his arm as you walked. "Why did you have to be so nice? It makes it harder to…try to hate you."

Jisung’s steps faltered for a moment, your words hitting him like a sucker punch. Hate him? Did you really try to hate him after everything?

I guess I deserve that...

His chest tightened, but he pushed the thought aside. This wasn’t the time to unpack that.

"Let’s focus on getting you some rest, okay?" he said gently, avoiding your gaze as he led you toward his apartment.

When you reached his building, you perked up slightly, pointing at the intercom like it was some fascinating discovery. "JiJi! It’s like a robot but for your door! Beep-boop!" You giggled, pressing random buttons as Jisung struggled to input his code.

"Stop- hey, stop pressing things, you're making it hard baby-" he said, trying to stifle his laughter as you giggled uncontrollably. His breath caught on the last word, and he couldn't deny how natural it felt to call you that again.

Finally, the door buzzed open, and he guided you inside. As soon as you stepped into the warmth of the apartment, your voice rang out loud enough to wake the neighbors.

"MINHO! MINHO-YA! MINHO-OPPA! MINHO MINHO MINHO!" you yelled, stumbling toward the living room.

A door down the hall flew open, and Minho emerged, looking half-asleep and fully annoyed. "What the hell is going on-" His eyes landed on you, and his irritation faded instantly. "Y/N?" There was a smile in his eyes and he turned towards Jisung. "What happened?"

You hummed as you hugged Minho, and he let you hang onto him like a koala. "Minho-oppa can you beat up Kyungsoo for me? He kissed your little sister and it was gross." You said.

Minho rubbed your shoulder and looked at Jisung with a look that could only translate to:

What the actual fuck?!

Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. She got drunk. And then she… uh…threw up on me."

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused despite himself. "She threw up on you? Man, that’s love."

You, completely oblivious to the tension, beamed at Minho. "I missed you."

Minho smiled, patting your back as he shot Jisung a pointed look over your shoulder. "I missed you too, you little goblin."

"Shouldn't she have missed me more...?" Jisung muttered, avoiding Minho’s gaze.

Minho studied him for a moment, then nodded, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Alright. Let’s get her to bed before she destroys the place."

He helped guide you to Jisung’s room, where you flopped onto the bed with zero grace. As Minho pulled the blanket over you, you suddenly turned to him, your face serious despite your bleary eyes.

"Minho… do squirrels get lonely?"

Minho blinked, caught off guard. "Uh…I guess? Why?" He asked making sure you were tucked in properly.

You sniffled, your voice cracking as you mumbled, "Because JiJi’s just like a squirrel…and he left me all alone…and he looks lonely too..."

Minho froze, his gaze snapping to Jisung, whose face was unreadable. You didn’t notice, too busy hiccuping and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, like an upset toddler.

"I…I thought I did something wrong," you confessed, your words slurring but still heartbreakingly clear. "I thought I broke him…so he broke me instead. But I didn't want to ask but I needed to know...so don't tell him I asked you this but-

"Does Jisung get lonely? Does he miss me like I miss him?"

Jisung felt his heart shatter all over again, guilt and regret flooding him as he watched you curl into a ball on his bed. Minho sighed, patting your head gently before standing.

"I'm sure he does...he's just too stubborn to admit it."

"So, squirrels are stubborn?" You murmured, sinking into Jisung's pillow.

"Very. But squirrels can be very passionate too. And kind and loving. They also can make mistakes..."

"Hm...they...do..." You barely managed to ask, your eyes unable to stay open.

"Yeah, but they can fix them too." Minho got up and looked at his younger member, who was staring at you with a 1000 emotions swirling through his eyes. "She’s your problem now," he murmured to Jisung, his voice soft but firm. "Fix it."

And with that, he left, leaving the squirrel-esque boy, the one you had been asking about all along, alone with the weight of your words; and the realization that he couldn’t keep running from the truth.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 11 thoughts! (nov 22nd update)

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 11 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 192 to part 211, covering Jack and Ruggie’s dreams.

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

Please also note: The part 11 update is split into TWO parts. There will be a separate post made on the 29th when the second part (centering on Leona) is released.

xbsbdkshwkw AZUL FAINTED WITH HIS EYES OPEN FROM THE FALL… This guy keeps taking the Ls early on in this update cuz he also got reminded that Idia recorded him in his own dream shouting “KRACKEN SHOT” which is very embarrassing.

Silver and Azul are able to change into their school uniforms without Idia’s incantation. Apparently Silver mastered the magic of changing clothes because he was so often oversleeping for class and had to prepare quickly for them. This shocks Sebek, who has yet to master this kind of magic. (Maybe it’s also a consequence of him being a first year?? 😂)

They briefly discuss how Silver looks like a prince when he’s riding his horse; Azul saw him in a Magicam cut of the Equestrian Club. Previously, we knew from Riddle’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes that the brown horse he rides is named Vorpal. Here we get confirmation of Silver and Sebek’s horses—Samson (a white horse, sharing the same name as Prince Phillip’s steed) and Tempest, respectively.

They have landed in front of the gates of NRC and run into Jack there. He seems to be rushing to the colosseum…? Let’s follow him!!

OKAY

OKAY

OKAY

JACK HOWL YOu’RE oN MY ShiT LiST OTL YOU KNOW Ehat tHIS GUY DREAmed ABOUT???????!!!?!?!!?! It’s the year after their instaloss to Diasomnia in the interdorm tournament (don’t ask me why Malleus and Leona aren’t off at their internships at this point, dream logic I guess???). Dream!Leona has gathered all odds Savanaclaw in the colosseum to train so this year they can take Malleus and beat Diasomnia head-on, no tricks. HE EVEN GiVES A N OPTIMISTIC SpEECH AbOUT THE POWEr oF TEAMWORK TO RALLY EVERYONE… and declares he’ll be the next “king” 💀 Such overwhelming confidence… JSCK DRWAMED Of a DORM LEADER thAt PLAys BY THE RULES AnD IS 💯 ConFidENT IN THEMEKvES…

Grim is so grossed out seeing this version of Leona that he wants to wake Jack up right the fuck now 😭

AzUL YOU ASSHoLE???? He acts all fake surprised about “the incident” that happened at the intetdorm tournament and like bro had no part in instigating that stampede.

They start to formulate a plan to wake Jack up, but are worried about dream!Leona since Leona irl is a very strong mage, the darkness posing as Leona could be even stronger than usual. But at the same time we can’t risk casting a spell that’s too strong ourselves or it might call Malleus’s attention. They suggest to use Azul as a clincher since he would theoretically have access to all the magic he stole irl in the dream. Surely one of those could help?

Jack scores against the defense, Ruggie. While the Savanaclaw students are going over his play, Yuu and friends stroll up (including Idia vis a full body projection). Grim tells Savanaclaw they’re Team Ramshackle here to play them!

Ruggie says there’s no point; their team is made up of weaklings! But then Azul gives his OWN speech about how Octavinelle and Ignihyde are always dead last in magift tournaments and this time they really trained hard because they wanna be better 🥺 and besides, isn’g magift a game of wits and not brute magic/physical strength??? This catches the attention of dream!Leona who agrees to the play. He considers fellow dorm leaders worthy opponents, and also had a bone yo pick with Sebek and Silver. (Also??? Sounds like Ignihyde got their asses beat by the Pomefiore team in this year’s interdorm tournament.)

HEKP THIS mAn HE’S SuFFERINNNNG 💀 Azul is really out of it so he calls for a time out. Idia takes this opportunity to make fun of him again for being tired now when he was the captain of Golden Trident in his own dream. At least Sebek is nice and offers Azul some water.

Sebek messes up and the frisbee goes out of bounds?? WYat THE FuVk dream!Leona goes over and helps Sebek up after he’s fallen… “Oh, so Jack has made a senpai he can truly respect.” “Oh, the REAL Leona wouldn’t do something so noble like that.” GROSS GROSS GROSS GET IT OUTTA HERE 🤢

Oooh, interesting?? Ortho reasons that when you’re excited, you’re more likely to be influenced by emotions when making decisions; they’ll take advantage of the exercise high everyone on to break through to Jack. He and Jack end up flying out to space as they’re squaring off in magift; when Jack realizes how far he has flown up, he’s shocked. Don’t they need oxygen to breathe here?! It’s here that Ortho reveals this is all a dream to him.

Jack is so shocked by the news that he wakes—and then falls out of the sky?! Silver immediately runs to protect everyone. Idia uses the Dream Form Change to forcibly swap Ortho to his Cerberus Gear and Jack to his Dorm Uniform, which help to cushion the blow of their crash landing. Then dream!Leona comes over to check on Jack and decides to bench him.

The darkness tries to deceive Jack, but he actually punches back and refuses to be tricked. bcdbbsksks He cries a little and goes on about how he was so inspired by watching Leona play on TV he’d watch it over and over… only to be disappointed by reality. Jack goes a little overboard though, he starts attacking US too, thinking we’re fakes as well.

Jack quickly comes to see reason and stops trying to deck us. Sebek still seems salty at Savanaclaw for what they tried to pull in book 2 and again reminds Jack of those injustices, saying he won’t forgive them. To his surprise, Jack admits wrongdoing and says it’s only natural some people would still hold grudges and choose to not forgive them. Sebek is so shocked by the fact that honest people like Jack exist in Savanaclaw. Aw… baby’s having his prejudice challenged…

Mentioning this for the Jack lovers: Jack pets Grim on the head and praises him!

LMAo????? Jack grabs Silver’s arm to travel with them and is shocked by how it looks slender but actually you can tell he has trained a ton by feeling it!

They land in Sunrise City in Sunset Savanna. Everyone tells Jack about Dream Form Change, which he says is a spell that looks like it’s from an anime his kid sister watched before. Jack has a had time saying the spell because he finds it embarrassing, but he’s eventually goaded into it (especially by Sebek, who tells him to chat it with his whole damn chest).

Beastman lore!! Apparently beastmen are considered a genus and all beastmen come from Sunset Savanna; over time, they migrated to other parts of the world, especially to some colder locations northward. Jack’s family is included in this, as well as Sebek’s. His grandfather apparently used to live in the wetlands of Sunset Savanna. I guess it just goes to show that no matter how different their individual practices and beliefs… they have common roots.

While they’re admiring the statue of the lion prince in the center of Sunrise City, they notice no hyenas are among the gathered animals. They suggest that maybe the statue was made before the King of Beasts united all animals; the hyenas used to live in their own place called the Land of Shadows.

They review some Sunset Savanna lore, including how difficult it is to unite beastmen of different kinds and how there's a pushback against development due to many beastmen wanting to respect nature. Sometimes the disputes can become violent, and it's all over the news. SHOCKINGLY, Idia has a moment of clarity and realizes that this must be why Leona chose the internship he did at a mining and energy company 😭

Everyone begins to suspect the dream is Leona’s but right then Ruggie rushes by them, declaring that he’s late for school. Jack is surprised that Ruggie is in glasses because in Savanavlaw he would brag about having good eyes.

Ruggie cuts through the market to get to school on time; he seems friendly with the folks and many of them offer him free food. Jack remarks that Ruggie is seen as a hero in his hometown, so maybe this explains the NPCs’ behavior. Apparently he is also an honors student in this world.

Anyway, Ruggie arrives at Ivory Cliff! It seems this school doesn’t exist irl; it’s only in Ruggie’s dream. Most of it is beastment, and over half are hyenas.

Grim watches Ruggie and mobs A and B eating food and leaps in to get some!! (Azul apologizes and lies that Grim is his familiar, lol) Sebek chides Grim for doing this, but then his own stomach growls, giving his own hunger away. He of course denies his hunger—but Ruggie says it’s okay and invites them all to eat!! The local children come to their campus just to have food too. Ivorycliff Academy was built in honor of the three hyenas who served the King of Beasts. They used to be do starved that they could cry, so the school is dedicated to feeding the hungry in the spirit of solidarity.

BRUH 😭 YOu’RE KIDDING ME… In his dream, Ruggie’s dad never left him… He came back for his son with a fortune he made from working. Ruggie also bought a new car for his granny and never has to be hungry again. Jack wonders if it is really right to take away happiness like that, but ultimately he decides he doesn’t want to see his senpai living a false reality.

Ruggie shows them to a school donut stall with all-you-can-eat toppings. He dumps everything onto a single donut and calls it the "Ruggie Special". The owner drops the lore that in the universe of this dream, apparently LEONA built the school.

According to donut lady, Leona graduated last year and came back after graduating to strengthen his country. He has established several schools and even magift teams. Among young people in the Sunset Savanna, Leona is supposedly also more popular than the crown prince.

Ruggie runs off to class and we stay behind to eat. Donut lady turns to darkness and attacks us, so we beat it back.

Everyone thinks it will be hard to wake Ruggie since he has never met Leona in this reality and doesn’t have any memories of NRC, his club activities, etc. There isn’t much for him to emotionally react to.

WHAT THE HECK is this a Mufasa movie reference in Twst 😭 Ruggie and some mobs talk about a sequel (that’s a live action prequel, I think??) about two characters who are enemies but were actually friends in their youth. Or maybe they’re just talking about some other Lion King prequel I’m not aware of???

J kb bajabakan ahaGayatwHAT

Azul tosses coins of different values which attracts Ruggie’s attention. He has the unique ability to tell the value of a coin just from the sound of it, a skill which Azul learned about from observing Ruggie when he worked part-time at the Mostro Lounge.

Anyway, Ruggie tells mobs A and B to go home without him so he can hunt the coins in peace.

Azul carelessly tosses 500 madol (~5 USD) into the fountain. Ruggie wants it so badly he dives in and starts digging around wildly in the water for the coin. AND AZUL JUST KINDA STANDS THER E TAUNTING HIM LIKE, "OoOOoOoOoh you want that coin so badly, Ruggie, your body moved on instinct BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF, BE GREEDY, GET THAT COIN" (NOT AN ACTUAL TRANSLATION, but in the spirit of what Azul actually says).

I assume this is what the Ivorycliff Uniform Ruggie groovy depicts... Bro's tripping and having a cosmic experience all because he spotted A COUPLE DOLLARS.

Nooot sure how to feel about this as a narrative device. On one hand, it's funny and definitely demonstrates Ruggie's shamelessness. On the other hand, I can see why some may see it as distasteful or humiliating because Ruggie is already so destitute irl and yet here they are using him scrounging around for a few dollars as comedic bit.

Mobs A and B return to check on him. Ruggie starts obsessing to them about how you can buy extra or fancy food like the shrimp gratin set for 500 madol!! Which confuses the mobs because all the food at Ivorycliff is free.

On instinct, Ruggie starts reciting what I assume is true of NRC: basic buffet foods are free, but extra foods are an extra cost… uniforms are free but if you ruin the first set then you need to pay for extra ones… etc. Ruggie points out that Ivorcliff uniforms are sucky anyway, with a light color like this, even a little bit of dirt stands out! Night Raven College uniforms are black, so it’s so convenient! Wooow, what a callback to book 2 💀 Ruggie complained about the RSA uniforms being hard to clean back then too…

We beat the mobs up~

Ruggie falls ot his knees and has a good little cry 😭 but then he recovers and says he’d better be paid a good hourly wage for all this trouble cnbdjssbjsks He agrees to join us because “Well, I wake up Leona-san every day so this is literally no different than my usual routine” though he also admits his success rate is like 60-70%.

dnensjsbahsjajw RUGGUE’S On MY shIT LIST TOO. HOW daRE HE… Bro says he’s going to wake up OUR king now, that he doesn’t want to follow a false king.. ARE YOU FR 💀 JE’S TAlKING AbOUT zbsvsjabskshFd;,,,/;~~\4!’ansnjahVb,dDDGfgGJjkJSDgabakaojrr a kKNBD gbmmkojnkFSAAQWVNmkoggDFFHvjkkp OTL

PAUSE TO STARE AT RUGGIE'S CRYING FACE BECAUSE WHAT THE HELL I FEEL LIKE I'M STARING AT A KICKED PUPPY

And so…! They’re off!!

This update ends up Ruggie’s dream concluding. Next time (on the 29th), it’s time for us to wake up Leona!!

asdbkhlfbyofqeyg80eg8qegppf OKAY. I WAS NOT EXPECT THIS AMOUNT OF LEONA GLAZING IN THIS UPDATE 🤡 Like, GOOD LORD was there a lot of it... I sort of expected it in Jack's dream since he idolizes Leona, but I was not expecting it to come up in Ruggie's dream too. Even though it doesn't seem like Ruggie has met Leona in the universe of his own dream... the dream world still created lore about how Leona successfully graduated and made the decision to come back and better his country, especially for the destitute hyenas like himself 💀💀💀 WHICH JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT EVERYONE IN LEONA'S DORM RESPECTS HIM AND BELIEVES HE CAN LEAD THEM TO A BRIGHTER FUTURE IN THIS ESSAY I WILL--

ASDBKLHABIYOFAYFQEIBAF STFU ME, THIS UPDATE ISN'T ABOUT HIM.. .. . . . ....... . . . ... . .. . . . . . . LET'S TALK ABOUT JACK AND RUGGIE.

I think this update was one of the funnier ones by far. I'm on Grim's side, it was very unnerving to see a helpful, reliable Leona that plays by the rules and is a good sportsman... but at the same time, it's only to be expected of Jack. Since book 2, he's made it clear he looks up to his dorm leader and wants to be able to put his faith in him. It was nice to see everyone acknowledge how a Leona that doesn't hold back is a genuine threat and how this is the version of him that Jack wants to see realized. It's cute how Jack has this pure want to play with Leona and wants to see him as an idealized leader... Definitely puppy-coded behavior.

Something else I really appreciated about Jack's dream is the logic that went into waking him up. It was really a tag-team effort by Azul and Ortho and, unlike previous updates, I felt like the previous OB boy's presence wasn't a Nothing addition to the cast. Azul uses his smooth talking to convince dream!Leona to play against them, and then Ortho isolates Jack to knock some sense into him. I liked that Ortho, the robot, used cold, hard facts to reason his way to a situation where Jack was more likely to react with strong emotionality. Azul becomes useful again in Ruggie's dream, where he single handedly wakes the guy up with some spare change he had on hand www

The exchange between Sebek and Jack was great, but I wish it had been extended... It feels like they added it to help with Sebek's character arc of overcoming prejuidice about non-fae, which is fine! But I think it should have been carried over into Ruggie's dream (in that section where they talk about different beastmen in the savanna). Like... it would tie together so well if Sebek had a moment of just "............." in indicate that he's thinking about what was just said, about how different beastmen, despite their differences, all originated in the same place. It would show us that he's slowly realizing, little by little, to accept non-fae.

I think Jack attacking us was an interesting beat to include, especially with all the theories swirling about how the Savanaclaw update will be the one to shake up the formula. Perhaps this is a preview of what's to come in Leona's section??? It proves Ortho's point that you're more likely to think and act with your emotions leading you rather than logic if you're already hyped about something. (In Jack's case, he was still coming off the caution and the high of beating back dream!Ruggie and Leona.)

I felt very similar to Jack in Ruggie's dream, doubting whether or not it was morally right to rip someone away from their happiness--especially considering all that Ruggie has gone through. Little guy was so devastated to find out the truth too... When I think about it, he's gone through so much tragedy in his life. His mom's dead, his dad left him, he grew up destitute and having to scrape by, he had to get LITERAL GARBAGE (depicted in the manga adaptation) to survive some days. It's no wonder why the people in his hometown call him their hero, it's a miracle that he lived this long and managed to get into a prestigious school. I think Ruggie's dream also highlights that he's not JUST greedy because he's greedy. Ruggie clearly cares about other people living well too (something alluded to early in book 4), because why else would Ivorycliffs casually offer free food to everyone and anyone? Why else would he spend tons of cash to buy his grandma stuff? He's thankful for what he has and wants to give back to the community that supported him. The supportive community is also generally reflected in his dream, specifically the market he passes on his way to school.

Ultimately, I do think it's for the best that Ruggie was roused awake because um... HEY, THE WORLD IS GOING TO END. Coming to that conclusion also speaks a lot about Jack's character: above all, he values honesty, even if the truth hurts. Excellent carry-over from book 2 (where he was the whistleblower), honestly.

One thing I wished they had expanded on was the relation of hyenas to other beastmen. It’s implied they are second class citizens, but it’s never clearly stated why that is other than “oh they live in a place that lions didn’t rule”. I would have liked more historical context for that discrimination; it would have helped to flesh out the world.

Overall, liked this update a lore more than the previous ones. I don’t know if I can still say this after the second part comes out (because I’ve usually had the most criticism for how the OB boys’ dreams ate handled), but so far I’m surprised by Jack and Ruggie (in a good way). Fingers crossed for the 29! 🤞

[dubina-dawkins]

WINCHESTER'S PICKUP, INJURIES AND CLUMSY KISSES

~1k words

>you get hurt while hunting with your uncle, John Winchester and his son. Dean can't help but help.

pairing:teen! dean winchester x teen! reader

warnings/notes: basically a really tooth rotting fluff, first love and first kiss trope, vague descriptions of reader's past (like death of their family), few but subtle descriptions of injuries, john winchester mentioned (and i mean he's a real trigger so that's important), gn reader, no usage of y/n

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

Minnesota. A werewolf hunt. Ordinary case-- boring, in a way. Just had to catch the bastard and shoot it through the heart with silver.

It seemed normal even to you, even though you weren't even an adult yet. Had to grow up early, huh? God, you hated that phrase. It sounded like you were feeling sorry for yourself. And self-pity is weak, very weak! At least that's what your uncle, the hunter who raised you since your family died in a vampire attack taught you.

And besides, you and your uncle weren't alone on this case, but with "family friends" - the Winchesters. Were they considered family friends if every time John needed help hunting and Dean was busy, your youngest son, Sam, was left at your and your uncle's house? Hell if I know! But at least you got a good memory of that family. And the older son's face, his cocky grin, his brilliant green eyes, his perfect nose and distinct freckles...it was all getting to your throat.

But damn it, it had to be some old, abandoned house. Protruding nails, scattered things, wood that left splinters in fingers - it would be dangerous here, even in daylight, without the risk of having your heart eaten...and when there was that risk, every step was tense.

Especially when the "hunted object" - you tried not to think of them as people, or else it became too hard to hunt - had run right into your path. The rumble of falling things, the pop of missed shots. This werewolf was physically strong and dexterous, so it was hard.

Like when he threw you into the wall and some protruding, crooked, rusty nail pierced your shoulder. It's okay, we've been through worse injuries, you'd think. Until Dean ran up to you, completely ignoring his father's scolding.

"Hey, are you okay? Ooh..." He seemed to swear, but it was quiet, a whisper he didn't want his father to hear. Dean sharply threw your arm, whose shoulder wasn't injured, over his neck and lifted you up, not listening to any of your complaints about not needing help.

"Dad's gonna kill you- sshhiit..." You hissed as he pressed his shirt, previously hanging over his black T-shirt, against your shoulder, treating the wound. The fabric was soaked with whiskey.

Hearing your sounds of pain, Dean lifts his emerald eyes from your wound to your face. His gaze is piteous, concerned, and his thick lashes glisten in the moonlight.

He was too handsome. Objectively, of course.

"Like the first time I'm going to get a punch from him... All right?" He squeezes your healthy shoulder in the palm of his hand, then puts his hand on the collar of your t-shirt, and...stops. "I... Can you slip your arm out of your sleeve?"

All his arrogance evaporated, there wasn't a particle of it in the air. And it was cute.

"You want me to take my clothes off? Pervert," you laugh, but your face immediately frowns as you raise your arm. Dean doesn't waste a second and starts helping you.

And God, the touch of his somehow warm fingers - there was a cool breeze outside, by the way - send shivers down your spine, making you dizzy. But you don't think about it. At least you're trying.

A low whimper escaped your lips as he tightened a piece of cloth, torn from your shirt and soaked in alcohol, on your wound. Maybe it wasn't unusual, but it still hurt.

"You're gonna stay here, you hear me? There's no way in hell you're going to go fight that big guy again right now. I won't let you," Dean said, glancing outside his dad's pickup window. His dad and your uncle were still in the house with a werewolf, apparently. You two could have been alone...for a little while. But of course that didn't excite you at all. You and Dean were just friends, right? Hunting bros. Nothing more.

And the fact that your gaze fell to his lips, then to his cheeks, covered with freckles, sharp cheekbones, ash-black long lashes, brilliant green eyes.... It meant nothing. At all.

"Whatever you say, sir," you quipped, rubbing the wound under the piece of cloth with your hand. Dean just gently pulled your hand away, "Don't make it worse for yourself, buddy." And oh, his tone is so gravelly. You're absolutely done.

But he won't let go of your hand. And you don't want to pull away.

His green eyes came up to your face, and he suddenly just froze, as if he couldn't look away. Dean stared at you as if you were the most brilliant and expensive gem, as if you were a living angel he hadn't believed in for a long time.... Like something unearthly. It would be foolish not to admit that you looked at him the same way.

Dean squeezed your hand lightly, and slowly - yes, very unusual for Dean Winchester to do something slowly - moved closer, but in a friendly way for now. In the same second, however, he remembered who he was, and his hand went up to your neck - still tentatively, of course... "Listen, buddy-..."

"Dean, please..."

And that did it. Dean's one word was enough for him to press his lips lightly against yours. He wasn't pushy, he wasn't rough, he didn't even let himself try to deepen the kiss. His lips only phantomly touched yours, guiding you, somehow even mentoring you, gently (still unusual for Dean Winchester himself!). His lips were matte, a little dry, but damn it, you liked it better than the sweetest meals of your life.

He pulls back, takes a deep breath and leans into you again. You're so cooked.

Dean can't help but marvel at your ineptitude at kissing- God, he could have sworn it made it the best kiss of his life. His lips move hotter, feistier, more needy, but still tentative, dipping down a little to leave a few quick nibbles on your chin and on your jaw--

Until you start hearing John and your uncle's voices outside. Oh, God, not now!

"Sorry, baby, sorry-" the nickname slides off his tongue so tenderly, lovingly, as he quickly pulls moves away from you.

Because after today, the chance of Winchester allowing you to see Dean earlier than after few months was close to zero.

a/n: i needed to think about little dean that haven't experienced hell already (on s4 currently yaaay). young jensen on header only because i can't think of teen dean looking as original cast actor for this role. and because i love young jensen. like really much. think im starting to get a lil' bit too much obsessed with dean

[niteskysx]

Stepbro! Nicholas Chavez x reader (one shot fic kinda?, established relationship)

As per your usual evening routine, you’re sitting on the couch with a textbook open on your lap, trying to lose yourself in your studies. Eventually, you hear footsteps—heavy, purposeful—and before you even look up, you know it’s Nick.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, his jaw set in a tense line. There’s a hardness in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. You hesitate to ask, but you do it anyway. Can’t hurt, can it?

“Rough day?” you ask softly, trying to ease the tension with a small, nervous smile.

Nick doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he drops down beside you on the couch, much closer than he usually does. “You could say that,” he mutters, his tone sharper than usual. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back, his gaze drifting over you slowly, intently. “Think you could help make it better?”

And there it was.

Your throat tightens, but you manage a small nod. “How… how can I help?”

He raises an eyebrow, almost amused by your innocence. “Just… be here with me.”

His hand moves to rest on your knee, his thumb slowly tracing circles against the fabric of your jeans, sending a shivers down your back.

You feel that familiar touch on you, whenever he “needs” you. “I-I’m here,” you whisper, glancing down, unable to meet his eyes.

“Good,” Nick murmurs, his hand moving up just a bit, his fingers grazing your thigh. “Because I need a distraction. He leans in, his voice softening as he leans in closer to you. “Think you can keep me company tonight?”

You take a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to speak. “Nick… maybe tonight isn’t the best time. I really need to focus on my studies,” you say, forcing a gentle smile, hoping he’ll take the hint and let you go.

Nick leans closer, his voice soft but insistent. “C’mon. Just a few minutes. You don’t have to study all night, do you?” He slides his hand just a little higher as he gives you a faint, almost pleading smile.

You swallow, feeling trapped under his stare. “I… I really can’t, Nick.” you stammer, trying to pull your thoughts together, to say something that might sway him.

Nick’s narrow at your hesitation, and his expression shifts into one of frustration. He lets out a sharp breath, his hand leaving your thigh abruptly. “Fine. Whatever,” he mutters, his voice edged with annoyance. He pushes himself up from the couch, giving you one last hard look before turning on his heel.

Ten minutes flew by.

You had been sitting there in silence for ten whole minutes and you know you should be getting back to your studying but you couldn’t…. He just seemed so mad and you didn’t want him to mad at you. Why did it bother you so much?

You couldn’t figure out why you felt this way, especially considering the amount of stress this man gives you— Sneaking around the house, him finding new ways to “torture” you or pleasure you— depending on what his mood is, making sure no one sees you two together, especially your mom and stepdad.

Before you know it, you found yourself standing outside his door, hesitant. Part of you wants to turn back, but another part of you is telling you to knock on that door.

God, has he completely corrupted you?

Your trembling hands manage to knock lightly on the door, and after a moment, you hear his voice from the other side. “Yeah?”

Slowly, you push the door open, peeking in to see him lying on his bed, playing with a baseball ball by himself, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He doesn’t look at you, but you can tell by the way his jaw tightens that he knows it’s you.

“Hey… I just wanted to check on you,” you say softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

He finally turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Why? Thought you were too busy,” he says, his tone a mix of bitterness and something else—something that makes your heart race.

You take a hesitant step forward. “I… I’m sorry if I upset you. I just really needed to study, that’s all.”

Nick sits up slowly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Yeah? And what about now? Suddenly have time for me?”

He sounds mad, but still manages a slight smirk on his face.

You take a seat next to him on the bed.

“I just… didn’t want you to be upset,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

He scoots in closer to you, closing the space between you and him. “So, you’re here to make it up to me, then?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself. “What? I-I didn’t mean—”

But he doesn’t let you finish. He leans in even closer than before, with his hand resting on your knee and his face mere inches from yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your face. “I think you did,” he murmurs, his hand moving to rest on your hips, pulling you just a little closer. “So… make it up to me, then.”

(I WANNA CONTINUE THIS BUT I HAVE NO IDEAS!! 😭 SO IF YOU LIKE THIS SHITTY PIECE AND HAVE IDEAS FOR TO CONTINUE IT LOL PLS LMK OKAYY ILYY 🤍)

[purinfelix]

from your last post could i request pedri? from “about you” by the 1975 where perhaps reader and pedri had a past relationship all throughout high school and when pedri left for barcelona they lost contact / broke up but years later they reunite somehow? When they do it’s like a “i thought you’d forget about me by now” to “how could i forget about you?” maybe angst to fluff! sorry that was so long … i hope it made sense lol <33

did you think i'd have forgotten? ✶⋆.˚ - pedri gonzalez

w/c: 600 a/n: this is one of my fav songs of all time so tysm for this (and for giving a specific request HAHA) i got quite a few for this song but i liked this idea the most and thought it fit the best - hope u enjoy anon !! <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

He still looked exactly the same.

Or at least, from what you could make as your train sped past where he was standing on the platform - though you were pretty sure you could still faintly his features, that dark black hair, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he laughed.

It was all exactly the same.

And maybe it was the realisation, that feeling of noticing someone familiar in a place like this - or something deeper within you that you dared not to question - that pushed you to speed off the train at the last minute when this wasn't even your stop. Maybe it was this that made you walk, then jog, then sprint towards what you recognised as his figure in the distance.

But it was also the reminder of what happened between you two, all those years ago, that brought your sprint to a screeching halt. And what would be the chances of you running into your ex-boyfriend here, at a random station, far away from your hometown or the country he had left you to move to? How could you face him, after all that?

"Y/N, is that you?" Too late.

"Pedri?" you called out, your tone confused even though you had made up your mind about it being him long before he had.

"Woah, hi, what are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing," you laugh, a little awkwardly.

"I'm here for a match, we're playing a local team."

"Oh, right," you smile, of course, "I study here."

There's a slight pause, in which you can see Pedri's expression turn into one of surprise. "I didn't know that."

"I mean, why would you?" You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but it's too late since his face is already donning an apologetic look.

"Right, sorry," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at the floor. "What are you studying?" he says after a while of silence.

"Nursing," you say matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you'll be great at that," he says, offering a warm smile.

It's clear he's eager to make this exchange as normal as possible, and you'd probably be obliged to let him. But it's hard to be normal given what happened between the two of you, when this is the first time you've spoken to him in years.

"It's nice to see you," he says after another moment of silence.

"Same for you," you laugh shyly trying to avoid eye contact, "I figured you'd forgotten about me by now."

"How could I forget about you?" When you look into his eyes again, you're taken aback by how well his expression reflects his words - his brows tilted slightly up in the inner corners, a tender confusion at the fact that you'd think he'd dare to forget about you.

"Well, you know with how famous you are and everything, I see how they chant your names when you play," you begin to ramble, eager to explain yourself.

"Well, I'd hardly consider myself fam- wait, you watch my games?"

"Well, yeah," you sigh shyly, feeling your cheeks glow pink at the sight of his smirk. The two of you stand there, looking at each other for a while, exchanging sly glances - and it feels, just for a moment, like you're the same high schoolers who were in a puppy-love relationship.

"Are you doing anything now?" he asks you.

"Well, I was on my way to class but I'm probably late for that now."

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I want you to show me what's good around here," he smiles, "oh, and catch me up on how you're doing."

You feel your cheeks begin to ache from how wide you're smiling.

"I'd like that," you nod, "I'd like that a lot."

[ragvas]

Your Power Hungry Girlfriend

Petra had always been captivated by the allure of power. From the early days of your relationship, she delighted in playfully taking control, whispering commands in your ear and adopting the roles of both your mistress and goddess. It was all in good fun, especially considering Petra's petite stature at 5' 6" (167 cm), barely reaching your shoulder. Her breasts though, a generous C-cup, complemented her curvy figure, which featured a thick, alluring butt and large, soft, juicy thighs. The way she would puff herself up, trying to assert her dominance and act as if she was the stronger one, always sparked laughter and warmth in your relationship, turning every playful moment into a cherished memory.

But there was something deeper there, too. Petra wasn’t just playing a part; there was a spark in her eyes whenever she bossed you around, a thrill in her voice as she pretended to be this towering, powerful force. She confessed to you once that she fantasized about actually towering over you, about being able to pick you up with ease or looking down at you with that powerful smirk of hers. Her dream was to be everything she pretended—a goddess who could make you feel small and weak with just a glance.

When she discovered MILF MAX, Petra knew it was her chance. The idea was thrilling beyond measure, and she didn’t hesitate. She ordered the pills almost immediately, barely able to contain her excitement. The very next day, the package arrived. You were sitting on your bed and Petra's eyes sparkled with delight as she opened it. “Just think, babe,” she purred, running a finger down your chest. “I could finally be the goddess I was meant to be. Imagine looking up at me, unable to resist. Don’t you want to feel completely owned by me?”

 “Petra, are you sure about this? It seems like a pretty intense change.”

 “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she giggled, her eyes glinting with excitement. “It’s just a little pill. Besides, think of the possibilities! I could finally give you what you’ve always secretly wanted—a real goddess to worship. And let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want to see their girlfriend grow into a stunning giantess?”

You couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and concern as you studied the pill bottle in her hand. The label boasted of 'MILF MAX' in bold letters, promising growth and power beyond imagination. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to see her so powerful. You swallowed hard, trying to imagine her towering over you, her C-cup breasts swelling to unheard of sizes, her thighs thick and mighty. You took her hand, feeling her excitement pulsing through her fingertips. “Okay, but let’s take this slow. We don’t know what side effects might come with this... transformation.”

Petra's eyes gleamed with determination as she nodded. "Don't worry, my love," she said, her voice a blend of playfulness and reassurance. "I've read all about it. We'll take it one step at a time." With a flourish, she popped open the bottle and removed a single blue pill. She placed it on the tip of her tongue and took a sip of water, watching your reaction with a hint of a challenge in her gaze. As she swallowed, she grew visibly excited, her pulse quickening.

You watched as the pill slipped down her throat, the muscles in her neck working as she swallowed it whole. The room grew quiet, filled with anticipation. You felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension, wondering what this would mean for both of you. "What happens now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Petra's cheeks flushed with excitement as she placed the pill bottle on the nightstand. She took your hand in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "Now," she said with a wink, "we wait." The seconds ticked by, feeling like hours as you both sat there, her heart beating faster with each passing moment. The room seemed to vibrate with an unseen energy, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to her. She leaned in closer, her C-cup breasts pressing against your arm, and whispered, "Just imagine the things I could do to you when I'm... bigger." Her voice was filled with a seductive promise that sent a shiver down your spine. The air grew thick with anticipation as you felt the first faint tremors of change.

Her eyes grew wide as she felt something stirring within her, a warm, tingling sensation that began in her chest and spread throughout her body. It grew stronger, more insistent, and her heart raced with excitement. She could feel her breasts swelling, filling her bra to the brim, the fabric straining against her newfound curves. Her thighs grew denser, heavier, and she could feel the power coiling within them. "Oh, my," she murmured, her voice thick with wonder. "It's... it's happening!" She looked down to see her thighs spreading, the flesh stretching and expanding. Her jeans grew taut, the seams groaning in protest. You watched in amazement as she grew before your very eyes, her height shooting up to 5' 8" (172 cm) and her breasts now a generous D-cup.

The transformation was unlike anything either of you had ever experienced. Her body was alive with power, growing bigger and more voluptuous by the second. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes had a wild, hungry glint in them. The room itself seemed to shrink around her as her presence grew larger and larger. Her breasts, now a formidable D-cup, strained against her shirt, which grew tighter and tighter until the buttons popped off, revealing her bra, struggling to contain her newfound bounty. Her thighs grew to the point where they could easily crush your head between them. Yet, amidst the overwhelming sensations of growth, she remained acutely aware of your gaze upon her, basking in the awe and admiration she saw reflected in your eyes. She knew this was just the beginning.

You watched, utterly speechless, as Petra grew to 5' 10" (177 cm) with a chest that was now a tantalizing DD-cup. Her moans grew louder, a symphony of pleasure and power, as she revelled in her transformation. Her legs stretched and thickened, and her jeans split at the seams, giving way to her mighty thighs. She was becoming a force of nature before you, and every cell in your body responded to her dominance. The sound of her moan filled the room, a crescendo that seemed to fuel her growth even further.

"Oh, it feels... so incredible!" she gasped, her breathy voice echoing with the intensity of her growth. Her eyes, once filled with excitement, were now dark with passion and desire. Her DD-cup breasts heaved with every breath she took, her newfound power apparent in every inch of her expanding frame. "Look at me," she ordered, her hand gesturing to her chest. "Worship me."

You couldn't help but stare, your eyes transfixed on the goddess unfolding before you. The fabric of her bra was stretched to the limit, the underwire digging into her flesh as it tried in vain to contain her swelling breasts. You could see the imprint of her lacy bra on her shirt, the outline of her nipples poking through. The sight was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning in closer, your hands trembling slightly. "Petra, you're... you're so beautiful," you murmured, your voice thick with awe.

She beamed at your words, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. Her growth had slowed to a crawl, but she was far from finished. At 5' 10" (177 cm) tall with DD-cup breasts, she was a vision of power and beauty. The room felt smaller, the air charged with an electric tension that was both thrilling and terrifying. Her eyes locked onto yours, a fierce hunger burning within them. "Kneel," she whispered, her voice now commanding and seductive. "Worship your goddess."

Your legs quivered slightly as you lowered yourself to the floor, the reality of her transformation making your heart race. The fabric of your jeans strained against your growing arousal as you gazed up at her, feeling smaller and more insignificant than ever before. You reached out, your trembling hand touching the warm, soft skin of her thigh, which was now thick as a tree trunk. "Petra, I... I can't believe this," you murmured.

She chuckled, the sound low and thrilling. "You're just now realizing it, love?" she asked, a playful edge to her voice. "I've always been a goddess, but now I finally have the body to match." Her thighs shifted, and you felt the power beneath your fingertips as she grew another 2 inches, now standing at 6 feet (183 cm). Her breasts swelled further, reaching the colossal size of E-cups, the weight of them causing her to lean back slightly to maintain balance.

With a sudden, satisfying rip, her bra and shirt could no longer contain her expanding form. Her huge breasts jiggled free from their confinement, spilling out with a freedom that made her grin. With a fluid motion, she shrugged off the torn remnants of her upper clothing, tossing them aside without a second thought, leaving her almost naked. Only her panties remained, stretched tight over her curvier hips and fuller thighs, clinging desperately to her growing body as if on the verge of surrender themselves.

"Keep worshiping me little man," she urged, her voice huskier, breaths growing deeper and more ragged. Her eyes held a dangerous gleam as she looked down at you. "I can feel it... I'm getting bigger."

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of her growth. Each new inch, each new curve, brought her closer to the divine being she aspired to be. You leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the soft flesh of her massive thigh, feeling the heat of her power.

The kiss sent a jolt through her body, and she gasped as she felt herself growing again. Her thighs swelled further, she surged to 6' 3" (191 cm), and her breasts grew to a F-cup. "More," she whispered, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. "Keep worshipping me, and maybe I'll grow even bigger."

You nodded, unable to resist the command in her voice. You kissed her thigh again, feeling it thicken and warm beneath your lips. Her skin was like velvet, and you could feel her power pulsating through it. As you worshiped her, you felt the bed shift under her weight, the frame groaning in protest.

The sensation was overwhelming. "Oh, yes," she breathed, her eyes snapping open. "Keep going. Make your goddess grow." Her thighs grew even larger, now capable of crushing you without effort. Her breasts swelled to a G-cup. Her breaths grew deeper, more ragged, as she revelled in the power you were unleashing within her.

Your hands roamed over her thick, powerful legs, feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath her soft juicy skin. You kissed higher, feeling the tremors of growth shudder through her body with each press of your lips. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal, the heady aroma of power and desire.

"Mmm, yes," she purred, her voice deepening with every inch she grew. "Your devotion is... exquisite." Her hand reached down, caressing your hair. "Look at me, love," she whispered, her eyes boring into yours. Her height had reached 6' 6" (198 cm) and her breasts were now a monstrous H-cup. "Look at the goddess you've created."

You gazed up at her, the awe in your eyes unmistakable. Her power washed over you, making your knees wobble as you took in her new grandeur. "Petra, you're... you're breathtaking," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

She took a deep, satisfying breath, her H-cup breasts rising and falling dramatically. "I know," she said with a smug smile, her confidence soaring with each new inch of height and volume of flesh. "But don't stop. I'm not done yet."

You nodded, feeling the tremble in your voice as you watched her grow. You kissed her thigh again, feeling it thicken and warm under your touch. Her legs were like marble pillars, and you found yourself lost in the grandeur of her transformation.

"Oh, yes," she moaned, her hand tangling in your hair, gently guiding you higher. Her H-cup breasts bobbed with every breath, and she could feel the weight of them pulling at her chest. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, begging for attention. "Keep going," she urged, her voice thick with desire.

You obeyed, your heart racing as you kissed her thigh, feeling it swell and tighten beneath you. Her skin was warm and inviting, and you could feel the power in every inch of her expanding body. You reached her hip, the curve of her waist now so much higher than before, and you felt a thrill at her dominance.

She gasped as your kisses grew bolder, feeling a surge of growth rush through her. Her body grew to 6' 9" (206 cm), her hips widening dramatically to support her newfound height and weight. Her breasts had ballooned to I-cups. She looked down at you with a mix of lust and triumph, her hand tightening in your hair. "Yes," she murmured, her voice low and commanding. "Make your goddess grow."

Your eyes widened as her thigh grew to a diameter that could easily encompass your entire torso. You felt so tiny in comparison, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and arousal. You kissed higher getting closer to her tits. Her breathing grew heavier, and she shifted slightly, her I-cup breasts jiggling with the movement.

"Oh, I can feel it," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she grew to 6' 11" (210 cm). Her breasts had reached an unprecedented J-cup size, the weight of them making her lean back against the headboard for support. The bed creaked and groaned with the pressure of her massive body. "Keep going, keep making me grow."

Her voice was intoxicating, a melody of power and seduction that seemed to reverberate through your entire body. As you looked up at her, now towering above you at nearly 7 feet tall, every part of her exuded dominance and raw, overwhelming beauty. Her thighs, thick and commanding, framed her curvaceous hips, and her breasts, now J-cups, spilled forward in glorious abundance, swaying with even the slightest motion she made. Her panties, stretched to their limits, were hanging on by a thread, barely containing her newfound curves.

Petra's smirk deepened as she caught your awestruck gaze. "Do you see now?" she purred, reaching down to stroke your cheek with a hand that felt impossibly large, yet still soft and gentle. "This is what I've always dreamed of. To be a goddess... your goddess."

Her hand shifted, gripping your chin and tilting your face upward so your eyes locked with hers. Her deep brown gaze radiated a mixture of affection and command, daring you to look away but knowing you couldn't. "I can feel the power coursing through me," she whispered, her voice laced with both wonder and lust. "Every inch I grow, every curve that swells, it’s like the world is bending to me. And you, my little man, are here to worship my growing body."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, your lips trembling with words you couldn't quite form. You placed both hands on her hips, feeling their exaggerated width and the strength beneath the softness. Her skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, as if her body radiated energy.

Petra giggled, a rich, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Good boy," she said, ruffling your hair as if you were her pet. "But I’m not done yet. I will grow bigger. I want to be so massive that you can't even wrap your arms around me, so tall that you'll have to crane your neck just to meet my gaze."

You swallowed hard, torn between a primal awe of her transformation and a heady anticipation for what was still to come. She leaned forward slightly, her enormous breasts brushing against your chest as she brought her face closer to yours. "Don't stop now," she murmured, her lips so close to yours that her breath tickled your skin. "Every kiss, every touch, makes me stronger. Makes me more divine."

Unable to resist, you kissed her again, this time on her soft, plush stomach, marvelling at how her body had expanded so dramatically. The moment your lips touched her skin, a surge of energy seemed to ripple through her. She gasped, arching her back as her body began to grow once more.

Her height surged past 7 feet to 7' 1" (217 cm), her curves expanded even further. Her hips widened to impossible proportions, and her breasts swelled to K-cups, their weight and size making them almost too large for her massive hands to hold. Her panties finally surrendered, the fabric tearing apart and leaving her fully exposed, her body now a testament to power and femininity combined.

Petra laughed, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy as she gazed down at you. "Look at me!" she exclaimed, holding her giant boobs and stretching her legs, testing her newfound size. "I'm unstoppable! I'm... perfect."

You knelt before her, utterly captivated by the goddess she had become. Her body filled the room, her presence overwhelming and inescapable. She reached down, her massive hands cupping your face and pulling you close. "Now," she said, her voice dripping with authority, "show me just how much you adore your goddess. Worship every inch of me, little one. And maybe... just maybe... I'll let you fuck me later."

Your heart raced as you took in her beauty and power. You felt so tiny, so insignificant. Yet, as you looked into her eyes, you knew she cherished you. You leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and dominance. You could feel the warmth of her body, the pulse of her power, and you knew you had no choice but to obey. You began to kiss her neck, feeling her veins pulsing with the life force that was reshaping her body. Each kiss brought her closer to her ultimate divine form.

With a mischievous spark in her eyes, she reached for the nightstand, her massive K-cup breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. Her fingers danced over the bottle of MILF MAX, and you watched as she plucked out another pill, holding it up to the light. "Ready for round two?" she asked, a playful grin playing on her lips. The room seemed to hold its breath as she placed the pill on her tongue, her eyes never leaving yours.

You nodded, your voice thick with anticipation. "Yes, goddess," you murmured, watching as she took a sip of water and swallowed the pill. You felt the energy in the room spike again as she grew visibly more excited, her skin flushing a deep shade of pink. Her hands rested on her impossibly wide hips…

Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she felt the pill slip down her throat, the warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Her heart pounded as the anticipation grew, the room seeming to close in around her as she grew. Her breasts swelled to L-cups. "Oh, the power," she groaned, her hand sliding down to cup one of her new, heavy mounds. She grew to 7' 3" (221 cm) tall, and the bedframe creaked under her immense weight. Her thighs thickened and grew, the power in them palpable. "Keep worshipping," she demanded, her voice a mix of hunger and authority. "I want more."

You nodded, feeling the heat of her body, the tremble of power beneath your fingertips as you kissed and touched her, eager to fuel her growth. You traced the outline of her L-cup breasts, feeling the weight of them in your hands, the warmth of her skin against your lips as you kissed along her collarbone, feeling the pulse of her growth as it grew stronger with every touch. "Yes, goddess," you whispered, lost in the grandeur of her transformation.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt your tiny hands on her ever-expanding breasts, her nipples stiffening under your gentle touch. Her body grew taller, reaching 7' 6" (228 cm), her breasts now a staggering M-cup. "Ahh," she gasped, her voice a symphony of pleasure. "You make me feel so... alive." Her eyes rolled back in her head as she grew, her breathing deep and laboured with excitement. She reached down, her hand now so large it could easily enclose your head, and gently guided you to kiss her breasts. "Worship me," she murmured, her voice now a powerful purr.

Your hands trembled as you kissed her soft, warm skin, feeling the unmistakable thrill of her power surging through her body. As you kissed her massive M-cup breasts, you could feel them growing, filling your palms more and more. The weight of them was intoxicating, and you found yourself lost in the act of worship. Each kiss seemed to fuel her growth, and she grew to 7' 8" (233 cm), her chest now a mesmerizing N-cup.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, Petra felt the warmth of your worship spread through her as your lips met her ever-expanding breasts. The sensation was heavenly, making her skin tingle and her core pulse with energy. "Yes," she moaned, her voice dropping to a seductive rumble. "Keep going." Her eyes fluttered closed as she grew to 7' 10" (238 cm) with N-cup breasts that could crush you in a gentle embrace. Her nipples had grown darker and more sensitive, standing out like erotic beacons. She could feel the pill's power coursing through her veins, enhancing every sensation. Her skin grew more sensitive, making even the softest of touches feel like a caress from the gods themselves. "Worship me," she whispered, her voice a siren's call that you couldn't resist. Her hand stroked your head, guiding you to her now-heaving bosom. "Make me even more of a goddess."

You kissed her swollen breasts reverently, feeling the warmth and weight of them in your hands. Her skin was softer than ever. You felt the power of her growth surge through her body, and her breasts swelled to O-cups, each one now larger than your entire torso. You looked up at her, feeling so tiny, so insignificant, but she was your everything. "Yes, goddess," you murmured, your voice filled with reverence. "I'll worship every inch of you."

You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her O-cup breasts against your face. Your mouth found her massive, sensitive nipple, and you began to suck it gently. The sound of her breath hitching in pleasure filled the room. You felt her body shiver in response, her power swelling even further. Her hand tightened in your hair, guiding you closer as she grew to 8' 1" (246 cm) tall, the mattress sinking beneath her. Her breasts felt like pillows, so soft yet so powerful. As you continued to worship her, her nipple grew even larger, a hardened peak in the vastness of her expanding bosom. It was as if you were being consumed by the very essence of feminine power, and you loved every moment of it.

Petra's breath grew ragged as you sucked her giant swollen nipple, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her body. She felt a deep, primal urge to claim you, to show you the full extent of her power. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at you with a fierce expression that sent a thrill of fear and desire through your core. "Oh, yes," she growled, her voice deeper and more powerful than ever before. Her breasts grew even larger, now a staggering P-cup, the weight of them making her lean back further. Her hand moved from your head to her own chest, her fingers tracing the edge of her areola. "I can feel it," she murmured, her eyes glazed with passion. "I'm becoming more than you could ever imagine." Her body grew to 8' 4" (254 cm). Her thighs, now like boulders of soft flesh, flexed as she adjusted her position, the bed groaning in protest. "Keep going," she urged, her voice a command that you couldn't resist. "Make me the goddess you've always dreamed of."

You obeyed without hesitation, your mouth moving from one massive nipple to the other, feeling them harden and grow under your touch. Her power was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in the worship of her giant body. Her breasts swelled to Q-cups, the weight of them unbelievable as you tried to take as much of her in your mouth as possible. Her skin was so soft and warm, and you felt the bed shift and tremble as she grew even larger. You were nothing more than a tiny worshipper before her now. You felt her hand grabbing your hair again, guiding you, urging you to take more of her in. You reached up with trembling hands, feeling the warmth of her skin, the power of her growth, and you marvelled at the sheer size of her. Her breath grew heavier, her body tensing as she grew to 8' 7" (261 cm), and her breasts grew to R-cups, threatening to swallow you whole in their godly softness.

The sensation was overwhelming, every touch, every kiss from her adoring servant sending ripples of power through her. Her hunger for power grew stronger, and she knew she needed more.

"Your worship is exquisite," she murmured, her breath hot against your ear as she grew to 8' 10" (269 cm). Her R-cup breasts swayed heavily, the weight of them a delicious burden. "But I am not yet satisfied." Her hand slid down to your neck, gripping it lightly.

You looked up at her and released her giant nipple from your tiny mouth, eyes wide with desire. "Anything, goddess," you managed to murmur, the awe and reverence clear in your voice. You felt her strong hand guiding you between her thighs, the warmth of her touch a brand on your skin. Her legs spread wider, giving you access to her sex.

"Make me feel it," she ordered, her voice now a low, seductive rumble. "Worship me, and I'll let you be the first to experience this body."

You nodded, your eyes glazed with a mix of fear and lust as you positioned yourself between her thick, powerful thighs. Her pussy was a warm, inviting sanctuary.

She watched you with a predatory gaze, her body growing taller and more powerful with every second. Her R-cup breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing as she grew to 8' 11" (272 cm), her legs now so thick you could barely get your arms around them. "Kiss me here," she purred, her voice dropping to a low, commanding whisper as she guided you to her inner thigh, so close to her core.

You obeyed, pressing your lips to the soft, warm flesh of her inner thigh, feeling the tremble of her body as she grew even more. The scent of her power and arousal was intoxicating. As you kissed her, you felt her legs thicken and grow even more powerful, her thighs now like the trunks of ancient trees. Her breasts grew to S-cups, so large they probably weighted more than you by now.

"Mmm," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she grew to 9' 3" (282 cm). Her S-cup breasts filled your vision, and you felt the mattress groan beneath her. "More," she demanded, her voice thick with lust. "I need more of you."

You leaned in, placing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs, moving closer to her pussy. Her scent was intoxicating, making your mouth water with desire.

Her hand tangled in your hair again, pulling you closer as she grew to 9' 5" (289 cm). Her S-cup breasts were now so massive that they hung low on her chest, almost brushing the bed. She gasped as you were slowly reaching her center, her breath hitching with anticipation. "Yes," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "Just like that."

You kissed and licked her inner thighs, feeling her power pulsating with each movement. As your mouth approached her sex, she grew to 9' 7" (292 cm), her breasts now a staggering T-cup. You felt the warmth of her desire as you licked her swollen folds, her moan echoing through the room.

"Yesss," she hissed, her voice a mix of pleasure and command. "Worship me completely." Her body grew another inch to 9' 8" (295 cm), her breasts reaching U-cup proportions. Her grip on your head tightened, guiding your every move as she grew, her dominance absolute.

You felt her power as you tasted her sweetness, her legs trembling with the intensity of her growth. You kissed and licked her swollen labia, feeling her wetness on your lips, her scent filling the room like the most potent incense.

"Oh, you're so good," she murmured, her voice a hypnotic purr. She grew another inch to 9' 9" (297 cm), her U-cup breasts threatening to spill over her giant thighs and engulf you. "Keep going," she ordered, her body growing taut with need.

Lost in the divine taste of her, you didn't hold back. Your tongue delved deeper, exploring the soft, wet warmth of her folds. Her moan was like a siren's song, guiding you as you worshiped her growing body. Her power grew, filling the room like an intoxicating perfume, as she reached 10 feet (304 cm) tall.

With a sudden, overwhelming need to feel you fully submit to her power, Petra grabbed your head with both her massive hands, pressing your face firmly against her giant pussy. Her giant thighs clamped around your head, trapping you in her divine embrace as she grew to 10' 7" (323 cm). Her scream of pleasure was a sonic boom, vibrating the walls as she came.

Overwhelmed by her dominance and the sheer force of her climax, you could only whimper against her thighs, feeling the warmth of her love juices cover your face as she grew to a staggering 10' 10" (330 cm), her breasts now a mind-boggling V-cup.

Her grip tightened, her legs like steel bands around your head as she bucked her hips, her V-cup breasts swaying heavily with each powerful thrust. "Again," she gasped, her voice a command that resonated through you. "Make me cum again."

Her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath, she reached over to the nightstand, her giant hand closing around the bottle of MILF MAX. With a glint in her eye, she plucked out not one, but three pills. "It's time to grow."

She placed the pills in her mouth, savoring the moment before she swallowed them with a dramatic flair, her throat bobbing with the effort. The room seemed to pulse with the power of her transformation, the walls closing in slightly as she grew to 11' 2" (340 cm) almost instantly. Her V-cup breasts swelled to W-cups, the weight of them unbearable to any but her. "Keep worshipping me," she rumbled, her voice a powerful force that made your soul tremble.

You nodded, your eyes wide with wonder and a hint of fear. You kissed her swollen folds again, feeling her grow even larger as your mouth remained on her sensitive skin. The pills had barely had time to dissolve, and yet she was already growing, her breasts reaching a colossal X-cup.

"I can feel it," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "I'm getting closer... keep worshipping me." She grew to 11' 9" (359 cm), and the bedframe groaned in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall. Her breasts now rested heavily on her legs, the weight of them a testament to her unbridled power.

You nodded fervently, your mouth still on her swollen folds, feeling the warmth of her power wash over you. Her skin was like silk, her taste divine. You felt the bed shift again as she grew to 12' 1" (368 cm), her breasts reaching a monstrous Y-cup size, the mattress all but disappearing under her.

With a fierce growl of pleasure, Petra grabbed your head with both her powerful hands, holding it in place as she began to grind her giant pussy against your face. Each movement sent waves of ecstasy through her, her body growing at a terrifying pace. The bed was now a mere plaything beneath her, the headboard cracking as she slammed it into the wall with the force of her pleasure. She grew to a towering 12' 8" (386 cm), her Y-cup breasts swaying like pendulous masses of flesh.

You could barely breathe as she used your face, the pressure from her thighs and breasts increasing with every moment. Her scent was intoxicating, a mix of power and desire that made your head spin. You felt the mattress tearing beneath her weight, the bedframe splintering as she grew to 13' 1" (399 cm). Her breasts swelled to Z-cups, the fabric of the bed groaning and giving way.

"Ahh," she moaned, her voice a symphony of power and need. "I feel like a true goddess now." She grew to 13' 7" (415 cm), her Z-cup breasts jiggling slightly with her every move. "Your worship is everything to me." She leaned back, her breasts spilling over her giant thighs.

Your mouth found her giant clit, and you pressed your lips around it, sucking it with all the reverence and fervor of a devotee at the altar of a divine being. Her legs quivered, and you felt her power pulse through your body as she grew to 14' 2" (432 cm), her breasts reaching a mind-boggling A2-cup size.

Her moan was a low, guttural growl that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. "More," she demanded, her body growing to 14' 10" (452 cm). Her A2-cup breasts grew to gigantic B2-cups, and the bed frame finally gave out with a deafening crack.

Lost in your worship, you felt her power surge through you as you obeyed. Your teeth gently grazed her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, and you sucked even more fiercely. Her thighs tightened around you as she grew to 15' 4" (468 cm), her breasts ballooning to C2-cups. The bed was now a ruin beneath her, a testament to the power of her transformation.

Her eyes snapped open, and she screamed out your name as she felt the orgasm tear through her. Her body convulsed, and in that moment of ecstasy, she grew explosively. The room trembled with the force of her climax, her body swelling to a towering 16' 1" (491 cm), her breasts now a massive D2-cup. The bed was utterly destroyed, and you felt her power wash over you like a tidal wave.

"Look at me," she panted, her voice thick with satisfaction. "I am a goddess now." Her eyes gleamed with triumph, and she knew there was no going back. Her breasts had grown so large that they now lay on the floor, the tips brushing against it as she moved.

"But I'm not done growing," she purred, a hint of mischief in her tone.

Her gaze was fierce with desire, her eyes gleaming with ambition. She picked up the bottle of MILF MAX, now seemingly small in her giant hand. "I will grow so big," she whispered, her voice echoing with power, "that I'll rule the world, and you, my love, will be my tiny king." With a dramatic flourish, she upended the bottle, allowing all the remaining pills to cascade into her eager mouth. She swallowed them with a grin, watching as your eyes widened in a mix of shock and awe.

Petra moaned deeply, her body surging upward as her curves expanded impossibly, filling the room with her overwhelming presence. "Bigger," she purred, her voice trembling with power, as her growth showed no sign of stopping.

-----

You can find more like this at my deviantart. 😊

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/ragvas

[valkyriexo]

Do Not Answer | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Joker Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Thriller, lightly Suggestive

ᑉ³warnings; lightly suggestive , knives, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of murder, darker theme overall,

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @linocvp1d (sorry it took so long :((( ) Thank you for beta reading @kisskissbanggang ! i appreciate you so much

The television flickered in the dimly lit room, the chaotic hum of the nightly news filling the space. You sat cross-legged on the worn velvet couch, your head tilted with fascination as the anchor recounted another crime spree. The footage cut to a shaky video of a man standing amid a scene of mayhem—cars ablaze, shattered glass strewn across the pavement, and panicked faces blurred in the background.

He stood out against the chaos like a twisted masterpiece, his lanky frame wrapped in mismatched layers that defied logic yet demanded attention. A deep violet blazer, scuffed and torn, hung loosely over his narrow shoulders. Beneath it, a bright green shirt peeked out, its garish color streaked with dark stains. The golden tangle of his hair fell over his forehead, sticking to his pale skin, streaked with what looked like sweat—or maybe blood.

But it was his face that held you captive. Pale as porcelain, the corners of his mouth curled unnaturally high, splitting his expression into an almost painful grin. Dark rings encircled his eyes, smudged kohl blending into streaks of grime, making the wild gleam in his gaze all the more unsettling.

His presence was magnetic, the kind that drew you closer even as every sane fiber of your being told you to run. He turned toward the camera, cocking his head in a gesture that felt like both an invitation and a threat.

“They’ll never catch me,” his voice crackled through the speakers, low and smooth, laced with deranged amusement.

You tilted your head to mirror his, a slow smile creeping across your lips. There was something… fascinating about him, something that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

The anchor’s voice pulled you back, but this time it was tinged with barely concealed fear. “Authorities are urging all residents to remain inside. Lock your doors, secure your windows, and under no circumstances should you engage with strangers. This individual is considered extremely dangerous.”

The screen cut to footage of the aftermath of his latest crime—a burning building, emergency lights flashing against the smoke-filled night, and paramedics rushing stretcher after stretcher into waiting ambulances. “He’s been known to target random victims, often at night,” the anchor continued, her voice cracking slightly. “And—” she hesitated, glancing off-screen before swallowing hard and regaining her composure. “There are reports of him taunting his targets before striking. If you receive a call from an unknown number, do not answer. Repeat: do not answer.”

Your gaze remained locked on the screen, the anchor’s panicked words a distant hum in your ears. They didn’t understand him. Not really.

Your phone buzzed suddenly, jolting you out of your thoughts. 

It sat face down on the coffee table, the vibration rattling against the surface. You froze, your pulse quickening, but you didn’t move to pick it up.

The ringing continued for a few seconds before stopping, leaving the room in heavy silence. You exhaled shakily, trying to steady your breathing. It was probably nothing. A butt dial call. Or—

The phone buzzed again, breaking your train of thought. This time, you reached for it with hesitant fingers, flipping it over to see the name glowing on the screen:

Mom.

You let out a small breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and answered. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you watching the news? It’s terrifying. Please tell me you’re home and have the doors locked.” Her voice carried that familiar mix of worry and love that she’d perfected over the years.

“Yes, I’m home,” you said, moving toward the kitchen as you spoke. “Doors are locked. I’m fine, Mom. Promise.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right? I just—these things are happening so close to home, and that man…” Her voice trailed off, and you could practically see the way she’d be wringing her hands, pacing the living room.

You balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder as you pulled open the fridge. “I’m fine. Really. I’m about to make dinner. Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, okay. Just… call me if you need anything. And don’t answer any strange calls, okay?”

You bit back a smile. “You’ve been watching too many horror movies.”

“This isn’t funny, honey. Just be safe.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The call ended, and you set the phone down on the counter. With a small shake of your head, you turned your attention to dinner, pulling ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. The steady rhythm of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of oil in the pan brought a sense of normalcy to the evening.

The man from the news lingered at the edges of your thoughts, though. His image seemed burned into your mind—the wild glint in his eyes, the way his crooked smile exuded both danger and charisma.

You stirred the pan, letting the aroma of cooking fill the room. And then, just as you were plating your food, the phone buzzed again.

You glanced over, expecting another call from your mom, but the screen read:

Unknown Caller.

Your hand froze on the fork, your stomach knotting. The words of the anchor came rushing back:

 Do not answer.

The buzzing continued, persistent and jarring in the quiet apartment. You licked your lips, wiping your hands on a towel as you moved toward the phone.

You hesitated, the warnings running laps in your mind. Your fingers hovered over the screen, but before you could decide, the call stopped. The screen went dark, leaving an eerie stillness in the room.

You stared at the phone for a moment, your breath shallow. 

It’s nothing, you told yourself. Probably a mistake or a spam call.

But then, it buzzed again. The same Unknown Caller.

Your heart raced as you watched it vibrate on the counter, your feet rooted in place. You didn’t move, didn’t answer, and after a few seconds, the ringing stopped again.

The silence that followed felt heavier this time, pressing down on you like a weight. You exhaled shakily, wiping your palms on your jeans, trying to dismiss the growing unease twisting in your chest.

And then it buzzed a third time.

The screen glowed, Unknown Caller staring back at you like a challenge.

Your hand trembled slightly as you picked it up. Something inside you stirred—curiosity, defiance, or maybe something darker. Whatever it was, it overrode the warnings in your head.

With a deep breath, you swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end. And then, a low, smooth chuckle, warm and unsettling all at once.

“Well, well,” the voice purred with amusement. “Third time’s the charm. I was beginning to think you’d never pick up.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the voice sending a shiver down your spine. It was unmistakable—him.

“I don’t usually make house calls,” he continued, his tone playful but laced with malice, “but you… you’re an exception.”

You gripped the phone tighter, your pulse pounding in your ears. “Who is this?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though the crack at the end betrayed you.

He laughed again, the sound rich and unnerving, as though he was savoring your reaction. “Oh, come on. Don’t play coy. I think you know exactly who I am.”

You were silent.

 “Oh, come on now,” he purred, as though savoring your confusion. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize the voice.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. Was he toying with you? But it was impossible—how could he know who you were?

“Why are you calling me?” you demanded, trying to regain control, but your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Because you’re so… interesting,” he said, dragging out the word, the tone heavy with meaning. “You’ve been home all day, haven’t you? Just sitting there, waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever changes, does it? Same routine, same quiet apartment.” His voice lowered, almost whispering, sending a chill down your spine. “I can hear the silence. It’s deafening.”

The panic surged in your chest. “How—how do you know that?” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Another laugh, sharp and unnerving, echoed through the line. “I told you. I’ve been paying attention. It’s… entertaining, watching you go about your little life. You get so comfortable, so predictable. But that’s about to change.”

Your blood ran cold. He was right. You had been alone all day, just the television and the hum of your thoughts. But how could he know? There was no way he was here… no way he could have been watching.

“You’re making a mistake,” you snapped, trying to hide the fear rising in your throat. “I don’t know who you are, but—”

“Oh, I know you’re scared,” he interrupted, his voice turning colder. “I can hear it in your voice. But you don’t have to worry. I’m just getting started.”

The line went silent for a moment, and you held your breath, your pulse thundering in your ears. The words didn’t make sense—none of this made sense. How could he possibly know all this?

Your knees threatened to buckle, but you forced yourself to stay upright. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re intrigued,” he shot back, not missing a beat. “Why else would you still be on the phone with me?”

Before you could respond, there was a faint sound in the background—a door creaking open. Your blood ran cold as you spun toward your front door.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he drawled lazily. “I’m not much for formal invitations.”

The phone slipped from your hand as the doorknob turned slowly, the lock you thought was secure clicking open.

There he stood, a twisted smile curling across his face, the same one burned into your memory from the screen. Up close, he was even more unsettling—the gleam in his eyes alive with chaotic energy, like he was drinking in your shock.

“Well, well,” he said, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him. “Dinner and a show. How thoughtful.”

You backed up instinctively, your heart hammering against your ribs. “How—how did you get in here?”

He tilted his head, feigning innocence as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his tattered blazer. “You’d be surprised what doors open when you knock hard enough.”

Your eyes darted to the kitchen counter, where the knife you’d been using lay within reach.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” he said, noticing your glance. His voice dipped into a mock pout. “I came all this way to see you, and you’re already thinking of cutting me out of the fun?”

“What do you want?” you managed, your voice trembling despite the defiance you tried to muster.

He grinned wider, his teeth glinting in the dim light. “Now that,” he said, taking another step toward you, “is the question, isn’t it?”

He moved closer, the heavy silence of the room pressing in around both of you. His eyes gleamed with excitement, watching your every twitch, your every nervous breath. He didn’t need to rush; he was savoring this moment—this perfect mix of fear and control.

"You don't have to say anything," he purred, his voice smooth as velvet. "I already know how this goes." His words dripped with a mock sympathy, the kind that made your skin crawl. "You’ll beg. You’ll plead. But that won’t matter."

His steps were slow, deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. Every footfall echoed in the quiet, reminding you that there was nowhere to run, no escape. His hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, the touch cold and deliberate.

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking, trying to hide the tremor that rattled your body. "Don’t… don’t hurt me." You couldn’t stop the pleading from slipping out. It was instinct, raw panic clawing at you from the inside. You wanted to disappear, wanted to be anywhere but here, but your body refused to listen.

He stood inches from you now, close enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, his breath warm against your face. "Oh, sweetheart," he said softly, almost mockingly. "I don’t want to hurt you. Not yet, anyway." He let that hang in the air for a moment, like a question you didn’t want to answer.

You flinched as he took another step, your back hitting the wall behind you. The tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming sense of helplessness seeping in. "Please," you sobbed, "just leave me alone. I’m begging you."

He smiled then, a cruel, twisted thing that sent ice through your veins. "Begging. There it is." His voice dropped lower, more sinister, a soft laugh rolling off his tongue. "I could watch you beg for hours. It’s almost too easy."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm on your ear. "Do you know what happens to people who beg?" His lips brushed your skin as he spoke, sending a shiver through your whole body. "They break. They start losing themselves. And once you break, there’s nothing left to stop me."

Your heart pounded harder as his hand rested on the side of your face, his fingers lightly tracing your cheek in a gesture that should have been comforting but only deepened your terror.

But then, just as you felt the breath leave your body in a sob, something inside you shifted.

You stopped crying.

His fingers stilled on your cheek, sensing the change in you. You met his gaze, and for the first time since he'd walked in, you weren’t afraid. At least, not the way he thought you were.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the terrified grin of someone who had given up. No, this was different. It was sharp. It was knowing. And in that instant, his cocky, dangerous demeanor faltered for the briefest moment.

"Oh Hyunjin..," you said, your voice steady, almost affectionate.

The moment his name left your lips, everything around you seemed to freeze. His breath caught, his eyes wide, locked on yours, and for the first time, he was the one who faltered. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. His fingers, still resting on your cheek, remained perfectly still, as though the very mention of his name had shattered the illusion he’d so carefully crafted.

His gaze flickered, confusion clouding his features as he took a step back, the momentary vulnerability in his eyes like a crack in his carefully constructed façade.

His grip on your chin tightened, and he leaned in, his face inches from yours. "What game are you playing, huh?" His voice was low, threatening, but the edge of uncertainty had crept in, making it even more unsettling. "You think you can scare me back?"

You leaned closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "I’ve been waiting for you to find me."

His breath hitched as you leaned even closer, your lips just grazing his ear, the intimacy of the moment sending a jolt through him. You could feel the tension thickening in the air, the battle between control and the unsettling connection that was forming between the two of you.

"I've been waiting for you to find me," you repeated, your voice soft, almost like a lover’s whisper.

The words sank into his skin, and for a split second, he pulled back just enough to study you, eyes narrowing, trying to comprehend what you meant. But there was something in your gaze—something that unnerved him, something that spoke of obsession.

He'd known women like you before. Women who thought they could twist themselves into something he would desire, something that would draw him in. But as he watched you now, he realized it wasn't just imitation. It was a deep understanding, a disturbing knowledge of him that made his skin crawl.

"Oh?," he muttered, but even his voice was strained, as if he was both fascinated and horrified by the truth he was starting to uncover. "What... what are you trying to do?"

You didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, your eyes wandered over his face, studying every line, every scar, every little detail as though you were committing it to memory. Your gaze was unsettling—intimate in a way that only someone who had watched him for too long could achieve.

"You think I’m just like the others," you said, your voice flat but somehow laced with something darker, something dangerous. "But I'm not. I know you. I know exactly what you like, Hyunjin. I know who you choose. And I knew if I made myself like them..." You paused, the ghost of a smile on your lips, "you couldn’t help but find me."

His eyes widened in disbelief, but then a twisted smile slowly curled at the corners of his lips, as if he were finally seeing you for who you really were. "So that's it," he said, the words slipping from his tongue like venom. "You thought you could lure me in? Make yourself a perfect little victim? Pathetic."

Your gaze never left his as you shrugged, unphased by his harsh words. "You came right to my doorstep, didn't you?" Your voice was a low hum. "You always do when someone like me is waiting. You can't help it. You’re drawn to what you don’t understand."

His grip on your chin tightened again, and this time, there was no pretending. He was beyond the point of merely intimidating you. He was starting to lose control, the realization that he wasn’t the one in charge anymore sinking in.

"You're out of your fucking mind," he hissed, but there was something about your quiet smile—something unsettling in the way you leaned in even closer—that made him pause. 

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back away. Instead, you pressed in even closer, until your faces were mere inches apart. His eyes searched yours, desperate to figure out where the line was, where he could draw it and finally break you. 

But the truth was, there was no line. You had crossed it a long time ago.

"I’ve always known, Hyunjin," you whispered, the words dripping with something far darker than admiration. "I’ve always known what you needed. And I’ve been here, waiting for you... just for you."

His grip on your chin tightened again, but his movements were no longer about power. There was a flicker of something else—something almost... excited. “You think you’re some kind of challenge, huh?” His words were laced with a hint of amusement, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. You didn’t even blink.

His lips curled into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was more a test now—seeing how far you’d go. He took a step back, dropping his hand from your chin, and without saying another word, he moved toward the far wall of the room. He reached for the knives lined up on the counter nearby, the cold steel glinting in the dim light. The air between you two felt thick, charged with something dangerous, something raw.

You didn’t move, didn’t even seem to acknowledge him as he grabbed the first knife, expertly flipping it in his hand, his eyes still locked on yours. With a flick of his wrist, the blade flew through the air, embedding itself into the wall just inches from your face. It would’ve been too close for anyone else, but you didn’t flinch. 

You didn’t even blink.

He threw another, then another, each one grazing the edge of the wall near you. The room filled with the sharp thuds of metal hitting the hard surface, but still, you remained completely still. Unshaken. Your eyes remained fixed on him, watching, waiting, almost... entertained.

"Are you done?" you say.

Hyunjin’s breath grew heavier, the fascination in his gaze deepening. No one had ever dared to remain so calm, so unmoved in front of him. Most people were terrified by the chaos he created, by the danger he so freely wielded. But you? You were something else entirely.

He took a slow step toward you, his eyes never leaving your face. The silence between you both was suffocating, a heavy tension that only seemed to grow with every passing second. He wasn’t sure if he was testing you or if he was just trying to understand you. Could someone like you really be real? Or was this all just an act to survive?

You broke the silence first, not with words, but with a simple gesture. You didn’t flinch. Instead, you turned toward the TV, flicking it on with a calmness that only made his heart beat faster. As the screen lit up, the news anchor’s voice cut through the silence of the room.

“Breaking news tonight: a series of brutal killings in the city have been linked to an unknown assailant. Authorities are urging citizens to remain cautious as they investigate the disturbing pattern...”

The screen flashed a picture of the victims, the same faces he had seen on the news before. But now, there was something different. Something far more intimate. 

They were your victims.

Hyunjin froze, the knife in his hand trembling slightly as he turned to look at you. You met his gaze with a knowing smile, your eyes now gleaming with something dangerous—something he hadn’t expected.

“Did you think I was just waiting for you to find me?” you asked softly, your voice almost teasing now. “I’ve been watching. I’ve been planning... learning. Everything you’ve done, everything you’re capable of... I’m not afraid of you, Hyunjin. You’re exactly what I’ve been waiting for.”

He swallowed, the words getting caught in his throat as he took another step back, his eyes flickering between you and the TV screen. The truth was right there. You were real. You were every bit as dangerous as he was, and maybe, just maybe, you were even more unpredictable than he’d ever imagined.

His smirk returned, though this time, it was something darker, a mixture of amusement and raw desire. "Well, well," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. "You’re insane. But damn, if that doesn’t make this interesting."

He dropped the knife onto the table, and for the first time since he'd walked in, he didn’t look like the predator. Instead, he looked like someone who had just met their match.

Hyunjin's heart raced, but it wasn’t from fear. It was something far more thrilling, something that tightened in his chest with every word you spoke. The way you watched him, the cold calculation in your eyes, sent a shiver down his spine, but also made something dark stir in the pit of his stomach. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.

But instead of backing off, you stepped closer. You didn’t even flinch at the knives, didn’t even seem to acknowledge their deadly proximity. Your gaze was locked on his, not with fear, but with anticipation.

You reached up, your fingers trailing along his jawline, the touch almost gentle. He leaned into it, despite himself. There was something about your proximity, the way you were pulling him in, that was impossible to resist.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered, voice low, almost a growl. “But you’re also exactly what I wanted.”

You smiled, that same knowing, dangerous smile that made his pulse race. “I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered, the words heavy with meaning. “In fact, I think I’m starting to enjoy this... maybe even more than you are.”

And before he could say anything more, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate—two predators finally giving in to their shared hunger. His hands flew to your back, pulling you in closer, deeper, as if he couldn’t get enough. You responded with equal ferocity, your body pressing into his, hands threading through his hair, pulling him in until there was no space left between you.

His mind screamed at him to regain control, to pull away, to remind you who was in charge. But the heat of your kiss, the wild, untamed energy that sparked between you both, left him speechless. It was a game now, but not one he had planned. He had underestimated you, and that, more than anything, turned him on.

As he pulled away from the kiss, both of you breathing heavily, the moment seemed to stretch, thick with tension and something more primal. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to decode every part of you that he hadn’t yet understood, that still eluded him.

He smirked, his voice still low and rough, a trace of amusement dancing in his gaze. “What’s your name?”

You tilted your head, considering the question, your lips curving into a knowing smile. There was something unsettlingly confident about you now, like you were no longer trying to hide who you were—who you had always been.

“Harley Quinn,” you answered, your voice sweet, but with a dangerous edge.

He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of that name.The look in his eyes was a mixture of intrigue and caution, as though he was beginning to understand exactly what kind of monster he was dealing with.

"Harley Quinn," he repeated, testing the name on his lips. The idea of you being a version of him—crazy, unpredictable, and dangerously charming—was a twist he hadn’t expected. You weren’t just some fragile victim. You were something else, something much more volatile.

"You like it?" you teased, watching him with a playful glint in your eyes, completely unfazed by the weight of the moment.

He chuckled darkly, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never left yours. "I think I’m starting to like you, Quinn." The way he said your name, with both amusement and an underlying hunger, made it clear he wasn’t talking about anything as simple as affection.

You smiled, leaning in just enough to brush your lips against his ear once more. "Careful, Hyunjin... you might find out I'm more dangerous than you think."

He exhaled slowly, his smirk widening as he pulled you back into another kiss, a kiss that promised there was no going back.

And just like that, the Joker had found his Queen.

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[cattordi]

2. the new neighbor 🥥

a/n 𓇼 hello again! enjoy and i hope yall get the oth reference at the end

summary 𓇼 after returning to the obx, you rent the cameron’s guest house; forcing you into close proximity with your ex boyfriend— rafe.

pairings 𓇼 pogue!reader x exbf!rafecameron

warnings 𓇼 not proofread, alcohol, angst, suggestive thoughts, “drunk” driving

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹

“maybe you still love her” topper says as he grabs his 9-iron. after your small argument, you went on your run and rafe was destined to distract himself.

now it’s 12, rafe is on his 6th beer and drunkenly playing golf with his best friend, topper.

“i definitely don’t love her anymore. that ship sailed the second she fucking left me.” rafe groans, sitting on the golf cart, “i don’t think i could ever love her again. let alone any woman.”

“that’s what i said about sarah,” topper begins before swinging, “now im with ruthie and im happy.”

rafe rolls his eyes, “you’re happy. not happier.”

“and you’re just sad.” topper shrugs, walks over, and drives the golf cart to find his ball, “you need to find someone or something that makes you happy because you’ve been in this slump for too long. it’s getting hard to watch.”

rafe rolls his eyes again, and takes a sip of his beer; but his mind keeps wandering back to you. he missed you. he could deny it to everyone else but deep down he knew.

he’d found out about your arrival when rose told your dad you’d settled in nicely. rafe stormed out of the house the moment he heard, mainly disappointed his family didn’t mention your coming to stay with them.

after that, he planned to stay as far away from you as he could, avoiding you at all cost, even if that meant moving out, but that quickly went out the window.

when he heard you getting water, he originally thought it was wheezie and he was coming downstairs to tell her to quiet it down. he hadn’t expected it to be you.

the way your hair went down your back, the way all his shirts fit you, the way your ass fit in every pair of pants, the way you smelled.

he’d missed you and never thought he’d be able to experience those things again, but the anger he felt when he saw you.. it was unimaginable.

he wanted you out of his life just as much as he wanted you in it.

𓇼

“jj put me down!” you scream as jj runs at you, picks you up, and jumps off the deck into the lake. quickly, you both resurface, and he’s laughing.

“sorry y/n. i’ve just missed you.”

after your run, you and sarah drove over to “the cut”, the south side of kildare island; where you’re from.

your parents were never the richest, but they always made it work. you adored that about them. no matter what the circumstances were, they made it happen.

“i’ve missed you too j” you admit, moving your hair out of your face.

you’d met “the core four” or jj, kie, john b, and pope in middle school. you’d had ever class with pope, and eventually you joined their clique. they quickly became your best friends.

“how was new york? plan on going back?”

“trying to get rid of her already j?” kie begins as she walks towards the dock, “she just got back.”

“never baby.” jj mumbles as he swims over towards the dock, pulling himself up. seeing them together makes you smile, considering jj has always liked kie.

“i got drinks!” a voice yells from the chateau, john b’s house.

the three of you look up to see john b with two brown unlabeled bags, sarah following closely beside him, and pope and cleo walking hand in hand towards the dock.

kie and jj run over excitedly as you get out of the water. the sight of the three couples makes your heart heavy.

your feelings for rafe were still so strong, but the breakup was for the best, and you strongly believed so.

𓇼

around 10pm, you and sarah head back to tanneyhill, both of you slightly drunk but sober enough to drive.

once you make it back, sarah quickly goes up to her room, telling you goodnight.

you smile as she leaves, and walks towards the guest house.

“y/n!” a deep voice says from behind you and you automatically know it’s rafe.

you turn around, sternly. “hm?”

he’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and khaki shorts. his longer hair he had when you two dated was now replaced by a buzz cut and you couldn’t lie: he looked good.

“where ‘ave you been?” he ask, stumbling over his words.

“i was with sarah down in figure 8.” you start, stepping towards him slightly amused, “are you drunk rafe?”

“i had like 1,” he begins counting on his fingers, “2,3,4,4…9 drinks maybe.”

“hm” you grab his hand, “cmon”

you drag him into his house, immediately heading upstairs to his room. upon entering, you immediately notice how dark it is. not because of the lights being off but because of his blue walls.

“your walls…” you stutter and turn the lights on.

“yup.” rafe says and he sounds as sober as ever.

“why’d you paint them?”

“got ‘ired of the white.” he groans as he flops down onto his bed; quickly drifting off.

you rummage through his drawers, grabbing a tshirt and shorts, and slowly changed his clothes. after you do your best to tuck him into bed, trying not to wake up.

once done you turn off his lights and walk towards the door. just as you open it rafe says, “y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i hate you.” he says coldly, and turns over, his back facing you.

[edwinspaynes]

GHOSTS IN THE SNOW

I spent a lot of the day thinking I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST IF I DO NOT SEE A PAYNELAND SNOW KISS RIGHT NOW. Unfortunately, I could not find one to look upon, so I decided to write one. Here you are! You can also read it on Ao3.

Edwin did not like to admit it, but he barely remembered what it meant to feel cold.

Charles did - considering the manner in which he died, it was no surprise. And yet all Edwin could recall was heat, not only from the fires of Hell but also from running, and running, and running. As he strolled along the peaceful nighttime streets of London, Charles's hand in his, he contemplated what it might be like to feel the light snowfall on his face. To have his cheeks wind-whipped and numb, to catch the large, fluffy falling snowflakes in his mouth and taste them.

Edwin did not frequently yearn for life, but in that moment, he felt something like nostalgia for it.

"What're you thinking about, mate?" Charles's voice cut through the still darkness. The world was quiet here, away from London's main roads at three in the morning, but Charles's voice was bold and brave. "You've got that look on your face, the one you get when you're really engrossed in some book or puzzle."

"And what sort of look is that?" Edwin's voice was light.

Charles scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes rather adorably.

Edwin chuckled. "You are being ridiculous," he admonished. "I have never looked like that. You once told me that my contemplative expression is quite clever; I shall choose to believe that rather than your insulting impression."

Charles smiled slightly. "Are you saying I didn't look clever like that? Well, that's rude, isn't it, when I tried so hard."

"You shall have to make a better effort next time." Edwin waved the hand that was not holding Charles's in the air, and Charles squeezed his hand. They continued to stroll along, and Edwin watched the flurries swirl under the light-posts. Electric lighting had been new back in his day, and it was not nearly as bright as this, so bright as to illuminate the snowfall and -

"Oi," Charles said. "You're doing it again." He did not release Edwin's hand, but brought the other one up to poke him on the shoulder. He poked far too many times, far too quickly. Edwin would not have had Charles any other way. "Come on, Edwin," he continued, "what's going on in that big brain of yours, huh?"

Edwin rolled his eyes and huffed. "I am simply contemplating what it might be like to feel... cold," he said. "I do not remember it."

"Oh." Charles stopped walking, and Edwin with him. His hand went slack, and they pulled apart as Charles continued. "That's... I guess... I don't really remember normal cold either, do I? Just like, the perils of terminal hypothermia or whatever."

"Very uplifting," Edwin murmured, and Charles nudged him.

"But. But." Charles tilted his head at Edwin. "I bet it's, like, the opposite of warm, yeah? Like, when you hold my hand, that's warm. Cold would be... the other thing, yeah?"

"Have you never thought it odd that humans always wish to sort things into arbitrary binaries? As much as I enjoy organized thought processes..."

"Hot/cold doesn't feel that arbitrary," Charles argued.

"I shall have to conduct further study." Edwin steepled his hands before himself, an unconscious habit that he knew made him appear confident.

But Charles grinned again. "I mean, if you want something else warm so you can better understand what its opposite might be..."

"Whatever do you mean?"

Charles reached out. He clasped Edwin's hands in his own, breaking his folded hands apart and squeezing his fingers. Then, still smiling, Charles took a step closer to Edwin and placed his hands on either side of his face. Edwin smiled at the last moment before their lips met, and Charles's mouth was as gentle as the snowflakes blowing lightly through the sky.

And warm. Of course, he was warm.

When Charles pulled away, large, uniquely-shaped snowflakes were stark against his black hair. Edwin wondered whether he was in such a state, too, and whether Charles liked the contrast as much as he did. But he did not have to wonder for long. Charles laughed quietly and reached upward to smooth down Edwin's hair, his expression so woefully fond that Edwin had to fight the urge to look away. "Love you, mate," he said casually, and Edwin could not help but smile.

Edwin's heart melted, but his eyes narrowed. "Wait," he said. "What on Earth did that have to do with our previous conversation? How am I meant to better understand the nature of cold due to that?"

"You're not," Charles said without a hint of shame. "I just made up an excuse to kiss you, didn't I. And it worked."

Edwin pivoted toward Charles. "You are trickier than I gave you credit for," he said, smirking.

"And you love me," Charles said, smiling as he trailed after Edwin.

Edwin reached out behind him, and Charles took his hand. "I suppose I do," Edwin mused.

He did not see the way that Charles smiled down at his boots.

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[notsodailycake]

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

[pineappleciders]

i fear there is little way to describe my recent experience in the bathroom. or potentially, there are far too many ways to the point i cannot collect my thoughts. it started out as a simple pee. i went to the restroom quite happily, having been playing a game and believing it would be a quick, simple trip. but i was proven wrong, as i usually am. it turned out to be a poop as well. though it wasn't a bad one, it was rather small and easy to pass, and wasn't too bad of a wipe either. however, i was foolish and became distracted watching a video on my phone while wiping. this tragically led to me placing far too many pieces of toilet paper in the toilet bowl without flushing. i soon realized my mistake and, like a fool once more, decided to hope for the best and flush. however, it did not go down. it's fine, i thought. i'll wait and try again. so i did, and it did not go down. hm, this is unfortunate, i think. so i grab the plunger, blissfully unaware to the hellhole i had began falling into, believing this was just your average clog of the toilet. but it wasn't. i soon remembered a fool in my household, which i later learned was my mother, had made the conscious decision to swap the plungers in the bathrooms. this is a problem because, the one that was in my current restroom is a good plumber. the other one is not. and so, i found myself fruitlessly shmacking the hard, useless plunger into the bowl time and time again. but it was no good. i was so determined, so full of hope that it would work as i had made it work before. but this clog was different. i began to grow more desperate as my arm was quickly becoming exhausted from the strain, and i switched to 2 arms, yet there was still no luck. at this point, i had begun sweating, the reality dawning on me that this would not go the way i had hoped. i remembered a trick i learned, about putting soap and hot water into the back of the toilet seat, which helps break the clog up. so i looked around for a cup, an item usually kept in the bathroom, to scoop water from the sink to the toilet. but there was no cup. i put a few squirts of soap in the bowl and waited, but with each flush the water grew higher and higher, reflecting my nerves. but a spark of something like hope flickers in me as i spot the sink drain stick made for unclogging sinks. it's a bit gross, but i'm running out of options, so i go for it. i feel as though it's working quite well, as i can see toilet paper being ripped, but with flush and flush again, it only worsens. i have been in the restroom for far too long now, mostly waiting for water to slowly go down, and at this point i'm sure the energy drink i left on my desk has gone lukewarm. i start to full on panic now, honestly on the verge of tears. i am tired from lack of sleep, very hungry, my back is in extreme pain, and i feel disgusting as a few bits of toilet water have splashed on me. i consider asking for help from my dad, however the thought of walking downstairs with shit stuck in between my asscheeks is extremely unappealing, so i carry on. i turn on the tub and start scooping hot water into the back of the toilet. it burns my hands, and i am now getting water everywhere, but i cannot stop as i begin feeling like a wild animal. i try and try and try but all of my efforts are wasted. and i fear i knew all along what i had to do, i was simply pushing it away out of pure fear. but i suck it up and wrap a towel around my waist and leave the bathroom, still not having wiped fully, and lumber to the other bathroom to grab the good plunger. and lo and behold, with only a few pumps the water is quickly sucked down. and i would have felt immense joy, if it weren't for my extreme annoyance with myself that i did not do it sooner. i am extremely traumatized and i don't think i'll be able to look at my toilet the same way for at least a few months. my dear friends and followers, i urge you to invest in a good plunger. one for every bathroom you have. a new, soft, flaccid plunger. it will betray you less than any man.

[whentherewerebicycles]

ok and now some thoughts about my early experience of parenting.

it kinda rocks... i really like it. i will definitely have a second kid if finances and biology work out. my life is so much better with this little guy in it. the sacrifices so far are mostly minor and are much more logistical than personal. i have to work more hours than i'd ideally want to because there's only one paycheck. i have to try to cobble together more sleep than i used to because i am pretty tired at the end of the day. i can't go to the gym or run an errand or go write at a coffeeshop for a few hours without hiring a sitter or asking my friends to help out. but the tradeoff is i get to be this little kid's mom. he thinks i'm pretty funny and he's interested in everything i do and he calls to me to get me to come over to his mat and talk to him and he likes to grab my face and hold it still so he can study it real intently and when he's upset he wants me to snuggle him until he feels better. i would pick that over getting to run into a store without the stroller a million times over.

i remember reading this book years ago where someone (paulo freire? someone influenced by freire's pedagogy?) recommended that all teachers, no matter how long they'd been teaching, carve out time every six months to reflect on their teaching practices and consider whether those practices were aligned with their core/guiding values as educators. i obviously love this idea because i was born to engage in sustained reflective journaling about my values lol. but also: i do think there's value in setting aside time at regular intervals to check in with yourself about the way you are living, or about whatever you are practicing, whether it's teaching or your work with others or, in this case, parenting. so idk i might try using his birthday and half birthday as time to journal both about my kid and about my own practice of parenting.

do i have a practice of parenting?? that sounds too fancy for someone who is only six months in lol. but i do enjoy thinking about what i'm doing and i like trying to connect the day-to-day choices i'm making to larger principles. i have written about this before but idk i think i am somebody who derives a strong sense of security and groundedness from having a loose framework of guiding values i can refer to when making decisions. and i guess in this first round of reflective journaling i will try to articulate what some of those emerging values/principles are. here we go:

I am making a conscious effort to not sweat the small stuff. there are one million things you can be worried or stressed about in parenting. and there are one million ways you can fall into the trap of thinking that if you just control every single variable nothing bad will happen to your kid. i am trying, inasmuch as i can, to avoid at least a few ways of falling into that trap. i have worked really hard to choose flexibility instead of rigidity when it comes to, for instance, letting other people care for my kid. it's okay if people do things differently than i would - as long as he's safe, he can only benefit from being exposed to different caretaking styles and adapting to different people's ways of engaging with him. i also made a decision early on to not engage with any parenting content on social media (this means ignoring the dozens of insta reels my mom sends me every week lol) and that has been really healthy/good for me. there is TOO MUCH information out there. it is way too overwhelming. you could spend your whole life worrying and i want to spend my life doing other things, like funny accents and comedy bits for the baby.

i am working hard to not interpret other people's parenting choices as a judgment of my own. i really believe that there are lots of different ways to raise healthy, well-adjusted kids. we can make different choices (small and big choices!) and still arrive at the same outcomes. i just really don't want to be the kind of person who takes it personally when people do something differently than i would've! i want to be secure enough in my choices to be able to accept and appreciate a whole range of other parenting styles. i also want to be humble enough to realize that i don't have it all figured out and might learn something from reflecting on someone else's parenting choices. anyway this has been a challenging one as i sometimes DO feel quite judged or shamed by other people's choices. but i also think it's ok to feel that reaction as long as i can keep making space for myself to take a deep breath and think through why i feel like that. idk! work in progress but i've only had six months of practice lol.

i am also trying not to interpret other people's anxieties as anything other than them working through their own stuff. to give one example: i love my mom so much but she is just, like, vibrating out of her skin with anxiety at all times about literally everything. and she has really found an outlet for that anxiety in grandparenting. i get dozens of texts a week about what exercises i should be doing with him and what experiences i should be making sure he has and where i should be taking him and what i should be saying to him and what i should be asking the doctor about and so on and so forth. this obviously could be pretty stressful, and i know that my brother and SIL find it so stressful that it is kind of negatively impacting their relationship with her. but idk i feel like with my mom i spent a lot of my life taking her anxieties personally, thinking that she thought i was incompetent/incapable/irresponsible/whatever. and then at some point in the last few years i was just like oh... this isn't about me at all, is it? this has absolutely nothing to do with me. this is just her fear and her terror of doing things wrong and her overwhelming need to avoid shame, and all of that emotional stuff just happens to be playing out in this relationship because we are close enough that she can lets her emotional walls down and let me see the churning river of anxiety that runs through the heart of her life. i wish that she didn't feel like that. but it's also not something i can fix or change. the only thing that is within my control is the choice not to take it personally, which in turn helps me put some guardrails around it so that it doesn't impact our relationship. idk i think this will probably be an ongoing thing i have to sort through for myself. but also she is who she is and i love her and it is important to me that she be a big part of owen's life. so we will figure it out.

I refuse to optimize my parenting because i refuse to see my child as a thing that needs to be optimized. this is in some ways hard for me because in many respects i am all-in on the very american philosophy that everything can be improved endlessly, including yourself and your family, if you just work harder and care more and give endlessly of yourself to the work. but nope! nope. not for parenting. not for my kid. i want him to have experiences and be exposed to new things, but not so he can "get ahead" or excel in things. i want him to be curious, engaged, interested, flexible, alive to the world, open to new things. i do not care if he is bilingual by age four or has a STEM curriculum at his daycare or goes to a top college or whatever. and i want the choices i make about what we do together and how we spend our time to reflect that. idk he's still so little that this is not super relevant yet but i can feel some of it creeping in.

lastly: i am trying to approach all aspects of parenting with the fundamental belief that i am and will be a good parent. i feel like our culture wants women in particular to spend all their time feeling guilty and inadequate as mothers. we also don't get a lot of external feedback on whether or not we're doing a good job as parents, which i think can make us frantic for validation and riddled with self-doubt over whether we are doing Enough. but i want to just like, try to cut some of that out and just answer it for myself. i'm doing a great job. i'm a great mom. i love my kid and my kid loves me. as i learn more about my child and myself as a parent i will undoubtedly adjust my approach to parenting many times, but making adjustments doesn't mean i was doing something "wrong" or "bad" before. it just means i want to try something new or shift gears a little bit. idk maybe this sounds dumb but i actually think it is proving kind of powerful so far as a strategy for managing parenting anxiety. i just assume that my parenting instincts are reasonably good and will guide me to make reasonably good choices, and if something turns out not to work, i assume i am a good enough parent to figure it out and adapt accordingly.

ok!! good journaling session and now it's time for bed!!

[chaifootsteps]

Hiya! If you don't mind a little bit of Hazbin-themed venting, I've got something I'd like to get of my chest, if that's alright!

I'll start this by saying that I'm...uh, well, a decently competent artist. The sort that can land some goofy roles here and there, those entirely irrelevant to this ask. Saying this not to brag, of course, but just to illustrate that I have spent years on my craft and take it very, very seriously!

My art has always generally leaned a certain direction, and that direction has overlap with VivziePop's art style, incidentally. I've never taken inspiration from her—my inspirations can be sourced elsewhere—and my artistic journey has not involved her whatsoever. Regardless, in real life, in the past recent years, people have repeatedly compared my art to Hazbin Hotel. Over, and over, and over. When the show came out, those comparisons ramped up, and I feel like by pure misfortune I have this shadow casted on me, as if I owe all that I've worked for to a coincidence.

I don't know. There's no real way for me to prove that I 100% did not take after Vivzie since I don't really have the Internet footprint for it. My friends and loved ones can attest to my work being my own, but...there's nothing I can do. People look at me and see someone else now. I've had comparisons before, but nothing like this. I consider art ultimately as an expression of the self, and to know that others hear a voice that's not my own is nothing short of distressing.

I would like to post my work online, and I'm itching to (if the dice rolls well on it) make my own cartoon, but I kinda sorta fear that those Hazbin comments'll end up dominating the space and, uh, I admit I don't trust the Hazbin Hotel fandom to be nice about it.

I'm considering the idea of changing my art to escape all the comparisons, but I also hate the idea of changing myself over something vain and, really, so, so dumb. I like my art. I think it's different, and I think it's me. It works for what it's meant to do! I just...wish other people could see that, y'know?

I've developed a sort of embarrassment over work that I've been chipping away at for over a decade because of this, and I find myself demoralized over making and showing art knowing exactly how other people are going to percieve it. I'll for sure still do what I do, but I find myself at a low point, and I felt the need to yell it out there. I'd be more than happy to welcome any advice on how to tackle this issue!

Trust me, Anon, you're far from the only artist who's run into this problem. You'd be surprised how often it comes up.

I think you've got to just do your own thing, even if some of the comments make you develop an eye twitch. There will always be people who see your hard work and unique style for what it is, and you can't hold back your talents just because Vivienne Medrano happens to be dooking up the Earth. The world needs more artists and more stories!

[talkbycolor]

Hello there! I have to say, I really, really, REALLY LOVE your Kindergarten au. Little Yanderes as noisy children and MC as a Teacher who is not being paid enough XD.

Feel free to ignore if it's uncomfortable for you!

This is my first time asking so sorry if I am bothering you, But how will the mini yanderes react if they were kissed in the lips, not in a romantic way but like a parent showing love and care <3

how Mini!Yanderes react when MC kisses them¡!

A/N; even if MC kissed them like a parent the yanderes would hear wedding bells so JASHJHSAJS also the thought of an adult kissing a child on the lips is a bit weird to me so i will change it to kisses on cheek or forehead. i was listening ddlc soundtrack to write this AND SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG

Pairing(s); "Mini!Yanderes" and GN!Reader

CW; this is actually fluff / need to remark MC just see the little yans as kids they need to take care of, no one has special treatment

Sunny Day Jack.

Jack would be the one to take the initiative, in this case, the first time he kissed MC's cheek would have been during the school photo.

Early spring, all the children had arrived well-groomed to the classroom, MC finished combing John Doe's hair while the professional photographer adjusted his camera in position, the children moved from one side to the other, except Jack.

Jack finished adjusting his bowtie, very dedicated to being the most handsome child in the photo.

Finally MC gathered them all in different rows, placing themselves behind in the center.

"I will only take it once so if you need to go to the bathroom or sneeze do it now." Said the cameraman in a listless voice, no one had any protests or urgency so he raised his hand, specifically 3 fingers.

"Three… Two… One." A flash of photography dazzled them, the curious little ones ran towards the man to be able to appreciate the photograph.

And then they saw in the photo how Jack had jumped and pulled his teacher's arm to kiss their cheek, causing several students to immediately cry.

As for Jack's reaction:

He considers himself a winner, he probably looks for other ways to ask for kisses since MC is quite open about giving affection to his students, nothing too overwhelming.

Can't stop thinking about their future as a married couple.

A manipulative bastard will surely fake accidents or work twice as hard on his tasks to get that reward.

John Doe.

John Doe is a student who needs sensitivity, but don't give him too many kisses on the forehead or you'll overwhelm him.

A day like any other, the class activity required flour and water, something simple to mold and non-toxic since many of the students love to put things in their mouths, so full of curiosity.

MC finished helping everyone create their mixtures, Keith finished making flowers with his dough while Tenebris ate it.

The children learned and had fun, it was comfortable.

Until some sobs made the teacher run to where a little long-haired boy, John Doe, who couldn't stop crying, the dough had gotten stuck in his hair.

Of course, prepared for any occasion, MC took the little boy to the bathroom to wash off all the dough, which fortunately wasn't as sticky as the time Peter put gum in Mycheal's hair.

"There you go, see? Simple, are you okay, Doe? Don't cry, everything is fixed now." MC comforted their student with hugs and coos, kissing Doe's forehead.

"Again?" He asked with those huge eyes full of tenderness, MC gave more kisses on her student's forehead, who asked for more and more between laughs.

They had to stop when they realized that Doe was convulsing with happiness on the floor, it did scare them.

As for Doe's reaction:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

He reacts in an exaggerated way, with adorable and loud giggles, hugs, red cheeks, his happiness is evident.

He is like a cat with dilated pupils and he scares MC.

Alan Orion.

Great project for class! Alan and his mom drew a picture of the solar system and he was in an astronaut suit, he didn't learn half of the names of the planets but it was enough to get a kiss.

The theme for that day was to draw a picture of things they want to do when they grow up, Alan carried his drawing to the board while holding it up over his head.

"I'm going to be an astronaut and walk in the stars!" he commented proudly.

"Very good, Alan, come here." MC called him over to place a star-shaped sticker on his drawing.

Alan tilted his head towards the teacher, subtly indicating what he wanted and of course the teacher didn't deny it, kissing the little boy's head.

As for Alan's reaction:

He loves praise, especially from his favorite teacher, and will keep a smile on his face for the rest of the day.

He will seek further validation from MC in other aspects.

Whenever he finishes a new activity he points his head up in anticipation of kisses.

Peter Dunbar.

One day he got sick and didn't got a kiss like everyone else.

Peter was confused, why were his classmates laughing at him while he sat in his spot?

Jack walked over with his arms crossed and a grin from ear to ear.

"Yesterday teacher MC gave us all a kiss." he said mockingly.

Of course Peter immediately ran crying to the teacher to get a kiss on the forehead.

As for Peter's reaction:

He was so upset with himself for getting sick and with the others for getting a kiss before him, he cried for 2 hours.

He asked MC for many make-up kisses, which led to the others asking for a kiss as well.

Peter bit and kicked the ones who came up to ask for a kiss, and ended up being punished.

Ren.

You don't need to be good at naming colors or good at sports when you're smart to win.

Play in the garden! All the kids were very excited, especially Ren, who got the lead role, he was a prince, surely that would delight MC, he had rehearsed so much to be the perfect prince.

The play was pretty simple, he had to dance with a girl and although that wasn't in his plans he couldn't push her off the stage or MC would think he wasn't chivalrous.

The exact minute after the play ended Ren snatched the crown from the girl's head and ran after MC.

"Teacher! Teacher! I have something for you, can I put it on you?" He asked batting his eyelashes.

MC didn't wonder where the other crown came from, they assumed the girl gave it to Ren since… Well, it's Ren. The teacher knelt down with a smile and bowed their head to allow the little boy to place the crown.

They were surprised with a tender kiss on the lips, making them gasp and quickly get up, the crown was on their head... but Ren had stolen a kiss from them!

The little boy was blushing, so happy that he couldn't stop giggling.

It was a shame that there were so many eyes looking at him with great anger at that moment.

As for Ren's reaction:

He was so happy, how could he not be? He had beaten all those losers in the classroom

He made enemies but he tries to maintain a good reputation with MC

The bad thing is that he couldn't steal more kisses from MC because now his teacher was more careful when he was around.

Mycheal.

Flowers are pretty but you are not allowed to pick them from the school garden.

It was early in the morning, not all the children had arrived yet to start class, MC arranged their notebooks and prepared the lesson for that day, while Mycheal walked through the garden looking for flowers to give to his teacher.

He knew that was not allowed but the best flowers were always there, since MC watered the plants every day, so considerate!

Finally he reached the rose bush, that was always dangerous because many times he tried to take them because of how beautiful they were but it hurt a lot, the thorns were terrible.

But today he would do it! A little pain was nothing compared to his teacher's laughter.

The little blond crouched in front of the bush and held a couple of roses, taking a deep breath when the thorns embedded themselves in his skin and he began to pull.

Harder and harder until his body fell on his back, tears came out of his eyes but he smiled when he saw a pair of red roses in his hands.

"Teacher! Teacher! Look what I made for you!" He was so proud of his bouquet that he was unable to see MC's worried face.

"Mycheal, you know you shouldn't pick flowers from the garden… Come, let's put them in a vase and heal your hands." MC said, taking the little boy's little hands to give kisses to his palms, which were bleeding a little because of the thorns.

As for Mycheal's reaction:

Mycheal learned to use gloves to pick flowers, but he can't do it anymore or he'll get punished.

Now he gets into fights on purpose to get kisses on his wounds.

He's also gotten kisses thanks to sharing his lunch with MC.

Keith and Tenebris.

Nap time in the garden, but there are always a couple of kids who don't sleep.

All the little ones were resting on the padded floor, covered by blankets after MC read them a story…

All except Keith and Tenebris of course, the twins were sitting near MC, Keith wanted more stories while Tenebris just wanted hugs.

Their teacher decided to read the story of "Sleeping Beauty", a simple story with a happy ending, he got to the part where the princess was woken up with a kiss, which gave Tenebris an idea.

The boy stood up and ran straight to the wall, crashing into it and falling to the ground, although he didn't use that much force it did scare MC, who didn't understand why the boy did that.

"Tenebris needs a kiss to wake up." The boy whispered with his eyes closed, waiting for said kiss.

Although ridiculous, it was also adorable so the teacher bent down to kiss the little boy's forehead.

"Me too! Me too!" Keith whimpered, clinging to his teacher's arm before receiving a kiss on his forehead.

As for Keith and Tenebris's reaction:

They discovered that they will get more affection if they make a truce, both asking for kisses at the same time to get double the affection.

They also both ask for kisses from MC behind the other's back.

Now they always try to stay awake during nap time, so the other students won't bother MC.

Solivan Brugmansia.

Spring event, it's time to bring out your artistic talents! But not in the case of the teacher.

MC had ordered their students to draw a picture of the things they liked most about spring, a simple activity to celebrate the beginning of spring, they were allowed to use crayons, paints, watercolors, chalk…

"Doe, don't eat the colors!" They ran towards the curious child who was trying to put a color in his mouth.

Being a teacher wasn't easy and although most of his students drove them crazy they had to admit that it was adorable.

Time passed, slowly while the children concentrated, it was strange that there was so much silence but not inopportune, the teacher decided to walk around their students to supervise their work, stopping behind Sol.

He had drawn a garden, it seemed that in the background were the horses and… MC?

The teacher sighed, stroking the boy's head and kissing his cheek, he just hoped that his parents wouldn't come to the festival asking weird questions because of how attached Sol seemed to be to him.

As for Sol's reaction:

He still doesn't understand why his parents worry when he draws his teacher, he loves MC!

Prone to developing praise kink.

His artistic skills would evolve thanks to his obsession with drawing MC, which would lead to more compliments and more kisses, clever, huh?

Damon.

Time to go out and play! Sometimes tears bring good things.

The whole group followed the teacher in a row, like baby ducks following their mother, they were on their way to the playground in the kindergarten, holding hands so as not to get lost of course.

They all made a circle on the field while MC prepared the game for the day, nothing too complicated.

In the end they decided to play soccer, nothing serious, just a bunch of little kids kicking the ball around each other.

It could have been entertaining if it weren't for the fact that Damon kept trying to catch the ball with his mouth, it made some people laugh but MC was worried, the real problem came when Ren tried to kick the ball while Damon was so close to catching it with his teeth.

Fortunately there was no blood but there were tears from little Damon, who cried and cried with his arms up, wanting to be carried by MC.

MC told them to keep playing while they tended to Damon, taking him to the infirmary where they made sure to hold him in their arms and caress his sweet little cheeks so that the swelling would go down.

His teacher kissed his head lovingly.

"There, there, there… Are you feeling better, Damon? It's over, don't worry, but you should know that you shouldn't use your mouth in a game where your legs are used, understood?"

As for Damon's reaction:

He understands that injuries mean kisses and cuddles from MC, prone to getting into fights to get more and then blaming Peter.

He's like a puppy, always rubbing his head against MC for attention.

He asks for kisses every day, if he doesn't get them he'll instantly sob like a pup.

[groverapologist]

i only worked backstage but i can def give u some insight into that! our school plays were kinda a big deal, i worked on prop and makeup one year and was stage manager the year after. now the dressing rooms are gonna look very different for every school; mines turned the gym changing rooms into the makeup area. some of the actors did their own makeup; that was mostly people who 1. knew how to do the makeup 2. required very little changes that they could easily do 3. previously practiced doing the makeup and 4. were usually older students (my school had students from 6th to 12th grade, so we had a bigger cast than most lol).

i was the makeup manager. i was in charge of makeup designs and makeup application. again, our cast was pretty big, and everyone required makeup, so we had to be smart about it. for certain ensemble members, i had one makeup look that would be put onto every single one of them (they were meant to be cult-like, so it worked). for the other ensemble members who were meant to be more diverse and different and rebellious, i gave them an idea of what the looks should be like, then when our first practice came, i built on their ideas. i wasn't the only one doing this, we were maybe 4 people working on this. this is definitely going to differ based on cast size, how many makeup changes have to happen, how much time you have, etc. you also have to be creative in handling the makeup depending on these factors. a lot of factors come into play for show makeup.

we had walky talkies that we would use to announce when someone was needed between stage and backstage. the stage manager did most of that work, but the prop crew also had some.

for props, we had charts and photos for how the stage was meant to look like in every scene. we still memorised most of the scenes' important prop placements, which isn't hard when you spend multiple months working on one project, but considering some schools do spring, winter, and summer shows, i think it would be a bit harder for them to memorise, so charts and photos would be enough. we waited backstage and would change the scenes whenever the curtains closed and gave any smaller props to the actors when necessary.

i make both of these roles sound dramatic but they were actually so fun. most of the work came in training to get them done quickly, but once we were sure everything would be done on time, we kinda just... sped through it on the actual day? and we'd spend the rest of the time dancing and having fun backstage even though we had to be really quiet about it so as to not disrupt the actual show lol. silent dancing in the dark.

funny little story. we had a lot of vapers in our school show. they'd all keep their vapes with me when they went on stage. at one point i had six different vapes in my pocket which was insane 😭😭 i also try my best to be kind always, so i found that a lot of people would come to me when they were nervous and i was really grateful i could provide comfort. another funny story, our show was during ramadan, and my friend who was doing sounds and i are muslim. the show was maybe 15 minutes after prayer time, so we would stuff our faces with food, pray, then speed backstage.

for the second show, i was the stage manager, and i took a lot of director roles too and was basically given the role of "second in charge". there was the obvious job which was: i had to manage when people were on stage, surprise surprise! we used walky talkies again, but i was also often running around making sure everyone and everything were where they were supposed to be. had to work closely with the prop manager at a lot of points because... props are part of the stage? kinda necessary part of being a stage manager lol. there was less dancing for me that year because i had more responsibilities, but i was fine with that. i was again given "can you hold my vape" duties which was still very funny to me, but it expanded to phones, small items, lipstick, etc.

i spent a lot of time pre-show annotating the script to decide when every cast member should be in certain locations. we had the backstage area, the dressing rooms, the stage, and the room connected to the backstage area. again, the cast was big, and no matter how hard i tried, i would never have been able to get them to be completely silent which you have to be backstage, so i had to think about that well. i had two people helping me which i was sooo thankful for.

given i was "second in charge" and am generally approachable, i also had to deal with a lot of problems in the cast. if there was drama, or there were serious issues, i was often the one told about it. the biggest issue was when the director was making a cast decision that made a lot of people uncomfortable because the person cast was very rude and disrespectful. i had to manage that situation but could only do so much as second in charge. the director and i came to a compromise that made most people feel better. (ps. i hated the director. hated her guts soooo bad. hated her decision making so bad as well. hated how she always played favourites. ugh.)

the cast and crew are usually very close and friendly. i was friends with most of the main cast and most of the crew (not the director though. ugh). we hung out outside the show often. i will say the backstage crew tended to be less theatre kid-y, half of us were and half of us either just wanted the credit or were doing something they enjoyed for other reasons (someone who worked on tech ended up studying computer science, for example). at the end of the show we would have an afterparty where people would almost certainly get drunk, and we'd celebrate the weekend after (shows ran from friday to sunday, so we couldn't do much over the week lol). we'd go on karaoke and people would joke that the crew was meant to be the ones on stage, we had a picnic, we just had a lot of fun overall. i wasn't involved in any drama, but i know there was some both times (again, considering we had a whole classroom sized cast, i think that's kinda a given).

some certain things we did include:

not saying macbeth, obviously

mutually hating on the director (both cast and crew. some people liked her but the majority were three seconds away from clawing our eyes out cuz of her)

calming one another down when we were nervous (that included me being calmed down cuz i was on the verge as a stage manager 😭)

as someone said. no going behind the damn back curtains. i was the only one allowed to as stage manager and i had to be so fucking careful that i didn't do it except for once when i really needed to. there were lights and wires between the wall and the curtain and any movement would've been seen by the audience which is a no-no.

we had a common phrase which was "you know what the audience is meant to be seeing, they don't" which basically meant if you fuck up, the audience won't know: improvised and don't panic. the audience can't tell the difference between improvisation and script.

i had to deal with. a lot. of makeup smearing in between scenes and acts. sometimes had to redo the whole thing. hellish.

sometimes the cast would help the prop crew put everything in place when the curtains were closed and the cast were ready.

we had vocal and bodily warm ups, and the crew participated in them as well. wasn't necessary, but it was fun bonding.

we had a mic disparity so we very often had to give mics from one person to another. also hellish, would not recommend.

the prop people will be insanely specific about where things go. better to give them the prop and have them place it where they want than just put it where you think it should be backstage.

the crew loves messing around. we have a lot of gaps where we don't work. we will 100% take advantage of them and fuck around for a bit.

putting makeup on someone can feel. a bit romantic. not for the makeup ppl but. for the cast. i hated that people felt like that cuz. i was kinda just doing my job lol. had a cast member confess and another flirt and i didn't reciprocate either and it was hell!!!!!

theatre is known for having a lot of queer men, but it also has a lot of queer women and a lot of trans and nonbinary people. it's a very inclusive space (in small productions at least) which i personally loved sm as a queer woman myself

that's all i can rack my brain for rn, but i'm sure there's more. idm sharing whatever, so always feel free to hmu!!

PSPSPSPS!! Calling all theater kids!!! I wanna make Jason a theater kid but I was too busy being in marching band to join any school plays. I know plenty of Shakespeare, but only in a literary analysis way. Tell me ALL about your time in your school drama department