#guess which bottle is diet

[raepritewrites]

Can I just say? mountain dew really needs to redesign their diet bottles, because I'm not colorblind but trying to tell the two apart at a glance is downright ludicrous - they're just two different shades of green! At least coke and pepsi use black labels

[theradicalace]

hate when i google something and all the search results make assumptions about my motives. i'm not trying to lose weight i just wanted to know if it was scientifically possible for something to have zero calories

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝑆𝐼𝑃𝑃𝐼𝑁’ 𝒟𝐼𝐸𝑇 𝒫𝐸𝑃𝑆𝐼 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 박성훈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ forbidden situationship ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you’re the golden, ‘perfect’ rich girl and get yourself mixed up with the epitome of darkness, park sunghoon the street racer .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1162 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not edited ៸ tension ៸ pet names ៸ cocky hoon ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 — honestly idk where i was going w this.. ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) anyways diet pepsi soty !!!! ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

THE NIGHT WAS THICK WITH THE SCENT OF GASOLINE AND ASPHALT, THE DISTANT ECHO OF ENGINES REVVING WILDLY IN THE DARKNESS.

you knew you shouldn’t have been here— the looks you were getting, you knew your dad would throw a tantrum once the news got to him, but you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore, not since you’ve met him.

guess that’s the effect he had on you.

you stood just outside the borders of the cracked and worn out road that doubled as a racetrack on nights like these, the air buzzing with anticipation and reckless roars from the crowd.

you could hear the murmur of the ones surrounding you, people eager to see the next race, to see— feel the thrill of speed and danger.

but your attention was far from the crowd, it was on him— park sunghoon. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

sunghoon leaned against his sleek, black car a few feet away from you, a bottle of diet pepsi dangling loosely from his hand, his eyes sharp and attentive as he scanned his competition.

the faint neon lights from the surrounding cars cast a glow across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the dark, mischievous glint in his eyes.

he radiated an effortless coolness, a kind of quiet confidence that drew you in like a magnet.

he looked untouchable—dangerous, even—but you knew better.

he’d always had that effect on you.

you took a breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you made your way toward him.

every step felt weighted, charged with the tension that had been building between you for hours now.

you had tried to ignore it, tried to stay away from the intoxicating pull he had on you, but here you were, walking straight towards the darkness of park sunghoon— the one person you should stay away from.

sunghoon caught sight of you as you approached, his eyes darkening with a look you had grown all too familiar with.

his lips curled into a smirk, the kind that sent a thrill down your spine.

“you know you shouldn’t be here, princess” he said, his voice low and teasing, the sound of it sending shivers through you.

“your dad just might kill me if he finds out you’re here with me, you know?”

“and yet here i am,” you replied, your voice slow and steady despite the way your pulse was quickening.

he straightened up, his full attention now on you, there was a challenge in his eyes, a dare.

“you always were bad at following the rules,” he said, stepping closer.

his presence was overwhelming, the heat of his body radiating against yours as he closed the distance between you.

“i could say the same for you,” you said, your voice softer now, breathless.

you could feel the tension between you thickening, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you—the noise of the crowd, the roar of engines, all of it faded into the background the second you two connected.

sunghoon’s smirk grew wider as he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle but electric.

“you think i don’t know what i’m doing?” he asked, his voice laced with the same quiet intensity that made your stomach flip.

“i think you know exactly what you’re doing,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

his gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop.

the world held its breath, waiting for what would happen next. his hand lingered against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down to your jaw, his touch sending sparks through your entire body.

“you like playing with danger, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice rougher now, filled with something darker, something deeper.

“something not even your daddy could buy for you, you want darkness, don’t you?”

“that’s why you keep coming back.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him.

“maybe,” you said, your voice shaking slightly.

“or maybe i just like playing with you.”

sunghoon’s eyes darkened, and for a split second, you could see the fire that burned beneath his calm aura.

he stepped even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “careful. you might get burned.”

his words sent a jolt of electricity through you, but before you could respond, the sound of engines revving to life broke the moment.

sunghoon pulled back, his eyes flicking to the track where the next race was about to begin.

the crowd’s energy shifted, growing louder as the cars lined up at the starting line.

“you’re up next,” you said, your voice a bit shaky from the tension that still hung heavy in the air between you.

sunghoon glanced at his car, then back at you, the same cocky smirk returning to his lips.

“stay close,” he said, his voice laced with promise.

“this won’t take too long.”

without another word, he turned and slid into the driver’s seat of his car.

you watched as he started the engine, the deep rumble vibrating through the ground beneath your feet.

he looked over at you one last time with that same smirk before shifting his focus entirely to the race, his expression hardening into the dangerous recklessness taking over him.

as the countdown began— you could feel the electricity in the air, the tension of the audience growing bigger with every second that ticked by.

and then, with a roar of engines and a blur of motion before you, the race began.

you watched, your heart in your throat, as sunghoon drove a speed that was almost terrifying.

the danger was real, raw, but there was something intoxicating about it—about him.

it was as if he was in control of the chaos, commanding it with ease.

minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity, and before you knew it, sunghoon’s car crossed the finish line first, a blur of black metal and speed.

the crowd erupted into cheers, but your focus was solely on him as he brought the car to a stop, stepping out with that same confident stance that made your heart race.

he walked over to you, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, a glint of victory in his eyes.

without saying a word, he reached for you, pulling you close against him.

the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline clung to his skin, mixing with the tang of adrenaline that lingered in the air.

“you’re crazy,” you whispered, looking up at him, your heart still racing from the thrill of watching him.

his smirk returned, the glint in his eyes more dangerous than ever— your mind is telling you to run before it’s too late, but you know in your heart that you’re already in too deep, wrapped in the chains of park sunghoon.

“maybe,” he said, his voice a low, knowing whisper.

“but you love it, don’t you?”

yeah— you couldn’t argue with that.

© won4kiss 2024

𝒯aglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism @hooniesgf @niawonn

[adrienneleclerc]

Sizes

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Plus-size Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles decides to take his girlfriend shopping and things don’t turn out the way he wants them to

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, I guess self hate, weight comments

A/N: this will be a very self-indulgent fanfic because i am on the “bigger” side, I’m a size US 12 through US 18 depending on the store, I’ll always look for the XL tops, but yeah, this is something I struggle with. I hope some of y’all can relate to this!

Y/N L/N was in the plane with Charles, they were flying from New York to Monaco. Y/N was listening to music, looking out the window, Charles noticed that Y/N has been a little quiet, this happens every time they visit Y/N’s parents in New York. Y/N doesn’t even know why she bothers visiting them, all they do is talk about her weight.

Y/N has always been a bigger size, even when she was younger. Growing up, her mom would side eye her whenever she would get a second plate, she always heard “si ya comiste un plato, por qué te vas a servir más?” “If You’re hungry, drink water.” It is even worse when she went shopping with her mother and if Y/N says that she can’t find anything in her size, her mom will say “si ya sabes que no hay nada en tu talla, por qué no bajas de peso?” And of course, the ever so great, “no vas a encontrar novio si sigues así de gorda.” When Y/N was a teenager, her mom had her take diet pills from Mexico to help her lose weight. And sure, Y/N lost weight, but she gained it back and her mom never let her hear the end of it, “if you already lost the weight, why didn’t you try to keep it off? I kept the weight off, I’m eating less, why can’t you?” Her mom would send her photos of when she lost weight and text her “look how beautiful you were, try to lose weight.” As if it was so easy. It was even worse when her dad joined in “don’t worry mija, we’ll find a way for you to lose weight.” If you already had one plate, why do you serve yourself more, if you already know there’s nothing in your size, why don’t you lose weight, you’re not gonna find a boyfriend of you’re fat,

So when she visited her mom the first thing she heard was

“Mija, has subido de peso, verdad?” Y/N’s mom Celia, asked, Y/N rolled her eyes. You gained weight, right?

“Hola mami, yo ha estado muy bien, y tú?” Y/N asked sarcastically. Hi mom, I’ve been good, and you?

“Don’t listen to your mother, como has estado, mija? Cómo está tu novio?” Y/N’s dad, Julio, asked, leading Y/N on the couch, how have you been? How’s your boyfriend?

“Ah si, el novio, sigues con él o ya encontró un modelo?” Celia asked, ah yes, the boyfriend, are you still together or did he find himself a model?

“Sí, Mami, sigo con él, ahorita está en el yankee stadium ese para hacer el celebrity pitch.” Y/N said. Yes mom, I’m still with with, right now he’s at the Yankee stadium to do the celebrity pitch

“Ooh si, como no.” Celia commented. “Pero ya que estás aquí, fui a México con tu papá y mi amiga consiguió las pastillas.” Celia got up to go to the kitchen and brought back 3 bottles of pills. “Hay 60 cada uno, tómatelas, quizás por fin serás digno de ser la novia de un piloto de Fórmula uno.” Y/N just stood there and shoved the pills in her bag. Yeah sure, but now that you’re here I went to Mexico with your dad and my friend got me the pills. There 60 in each bottle, take them, maybe then you’ll finally look like an F1 driver’s girlfriend

“Not that this wasn’t fun, pero ya me voy, papi, te quiero mucho, te veo en navidad, mami…adiós.” Y/N said, leaving her parent’s apartment. But I’m gonna go, dad, I love you, I’ll see you at Christmas, mom…bye

Which brings us back to the plane ride. Charles didn’t like seeing Y/N so upset so he tapped her arm and asked Y/N to take off her headphones and she did.

“Mon coeur, do you want to talk about what happened?” Charles asked

“Not really.” Y/N said.

“When we land in Monaco, do you want to go shopping?” Charles asked and Y/N looked confused. “I have this event with APM Monaco, I was thinking we could get some new clothes, doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“I Don’t know, muñeco…” Y/N said but was interrupted by Charles.

“I Don’t like seeing you upset, Mon ange. I want to do this for you, you could pick whatever dress you want, matching shoes, some jewelry…” Charles said and Y/N interrupted him.

“Muñeco, you Don’t really have to.” Y/N said.

“I want to, I want to spoil you, you deserve it.” Charles said, kissing Y/N. “Now get some sleep. We’ll freshen up when we land and then we’ll go shopping.”

So that’s what Y/N did, she slept until the plane stopped. Once the plane landed, they got out and Charles drove them back to his apartment so they could shower. Once showered, Y/N styled her hair and picked out a casual outfit so they could go shopping.

“You look beautiful, Mon coeur.” Charles said, kissing her.

“Thank you, muñeco.” Y/N said, she got her bag and saw the pills in there. She just shoved them in her suitcase before charles could see the,.

“Come on, let’s go to the metropole shopping center, I’m sure they’ll have something beautiful for you.” Charles said. Y/N nods her head. Charles drove to the mall and they entered a fancy dress store.

“Wow, these dresses are beautiful.” Y/N said.

“Yep, I’m going to pick out some dresses for you to try, okay.” Charles said before kissing her cheek and Y/N started to roam around the store.

She a sales lady side eyeing her. It made Y/N feel self conscious, like many times before, Y/N just looked at the dresses, took a picture, and texted her thinner friends saying ‘you’ll love these dresses’ because she sure as hell knows she won’t fit in them. She turned around and saw Charles holding 3 dresses in her preferred colors and preferred style.

“I think you would look amazing in these. I’ll be right outside the dressing room if you need help, okay.” Charles said. Y/N walked into the dressing room and saw herself in the mirror.

“Here goes nothing.” Y/N said. She’s checked the tag and it said it was a size EU 48, which is her size, so as she tried in the dress, she noticed it was a little tight in the waist area. “Muñeco, Can you help me?” Charles pulled back the curtain and got in, closing the curtain behind him. He tried to zip up,the dress but he couldn’t. Everything Celia told her came flooding in her head, she has gained weight, she shouldn’t have eaten so much growing up, it was her own fault that she was fat, she should have kept the weight off. She was so in her head that she didn’t realize she was crying or that Charles was speaking until charles was right in front of her, wiping her tears with tissues that Y/N carrieesaround in her purse.

“Mon ange, are you okay?” Charles asked softly.

“No, I am not okay. This stupid dress doesn’t fit, probably nothing in this store will fit me because I am so fat, maybe I should take those diet pills my mom gave me, I am so ugly.” Y/N sobbed, taking off the dress haphazardly, not caring if she ripped something or not. She put her jeans and oversized t shirt back on but sat down on the floor to sob into her hands. Charles has tears in his eyes, it hurt to hear her talk about herself this way.

“Mon coeur, what happened with your mother?” Charles asked. Y/N got another reissue for her bag and blew her bise before answering him.

“She said that I have gained weight, asked if we were still together or if you found yourself a model girlfriend, and she gave me diet pills so i can lose weight like I did when I was 16/17.” Y/N said. Charles felt angry, how could a mother say that to her own daughter?

“Mon coeur, I love you, you know that, right? I love you so much and don’t worry about the dress, there are other stores that carry bigger sizes and so,étimos the sizing runs short here.” Charles attempts to make Y/N feel better.

“You don’t get it, Charles. You could find a dress that could perfectly fit me and I’m going to hate myself in it, my mom would point out my flaws when we’re shopping ‘you’re back is too wide for that dress, this dress shows off your belly, if you lost 20 pounds, you could pull off that dress’, even if I really liked something I wore, my mom would ruin it for me. And now I say that about myself, it’s so bad” Y/N cried and Charles hugged her, smoothie her back, letting her cry it all out.

“Mon coeur, you need to stop visiting your mother. I know you love your parents but visiting your mom is not healthy for you. You’re not going to take those diet pills, okay? Those things are dangerous and who knows the side effects it might cause. Now listen to me very carefully, you are beautiful, your size doesn’t matter, not to me, I fell in love with you because you’re funny, you are so sweet to everyone, you love animals, you could be a size 50 or a size 32 and I would still love you because of your personality.” Charles said, cupping Y/N’s face, kissing her nose. “Safe to say we won’t be buying this.”

“Yeah, no.” Y/N said, they got out of the dressing room and put the dress back.

“I suggest getting bigger sizes, try being more inclusive.” Charles said befriended leaving the store with Y/N. “I think you deserve some ice cream, don’t you?”

“I would love some.” Y/N said and Charles had his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple before heading to an ice cream shop in the mall.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, this was a very personal one shot for me, this was based off true experiences, I really do struggle with this, I cried while writing.

This is me, sorry for the jump scare

[delirious-donna]

A Kiss But At What Cost? [Part Seven]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: The time calls for a movie night and one you’ll be sure to rope Kento into. A good old-fashioned slasher movie sounds just right, but how will the end of the night go once you’re all spooked out?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, two oblivious idiots, yet more emotions, bad communication, mentions of horror movies and tropes, if you can tell me what the movie at the end is you get a gold star

Part Six | Series Masterlist | Part Eight

Popcorn? Check. Cozy blanket? Acquired.

“Hm…” You hummed quietly, turning on the spot in the living room. The lights were set low, the thickest of the blankets from the basket in the corner ready for you to crawl beneath for your movie night, but something was missing.

A drink, of course.

Padding back into the kitchen, you bent your head to investigate the contents of the fridge, debating on a Diet Coke or a beer. The noise of someone clearing their throat made you jump, bumping your head into the door of the fridge in the action of whirling around.

“Ouch!”

Kento winced before quickly schooling his features into neutrality. You turned with a frown etched on your brow, and he couldn’t blame you for it this time. Moving forward, he stood by your side to reach inside and a grab out a bottle of beer, popping the top easily.

Your scowl deepened, more annoyed at the flutter in your stomach at his ease of opening the beer without even looking at the damn thing. “Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d still be so jumpy this far into our little arrangement.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a quick sip, eyes moving to the ceiling which presented you with the open opportunity to watch whilst his throat worked to swallow the frothy liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

A thought leapt from the recesses of your brain, and your pout turned into a wicked smile before he could blink. How would mr ‘stick-in-the-mud’ cope with a couple of scary movies? It would be beyond hilarious if he turned out to be a scaredy cat given his imposing stature and presence, and the chance to find out was too delicious to pass up.

“Got plans this evening?” you asked with an expression you hoped looked nonchalant. Before he could answer, you pulled out a can of Diet Coke and cracked open the ring pull with a low hiss.

“None to speak of. Why?”

Your hand linked through his arm with a wide grin, pulling him away from the kitchen to the cozy little nook you’d crafted for your movie spree. You gestured towards it with a theatrical “ta dah” and glanced up to meet eyes of hazel alight with confusion and a hint of intrigue, if you weren’t much mistaken.

“What’s this? You’ve made a… nest on my couch,” Kento guessed, scanning the bowl of popcorn and bar of unopened chocolate resting on the faraway arm. He wasn’t so stupid not to realise that this was clearly a movie night, but he was doing his damnedest not to think too much about your hand curled around his bicep. One wrong move and you might take that touch away, and he didn’t want that, not yet.

“Wow. Don’t tell me you didn’t watch movies with Karin growing up, because I know it’ll be a lie. That girl is more of a film buff than I am, no way you escaped that.”

Kento scoffed. “You’re correct. I did not escape, though there were many times I sorely wish I had. If I have to watch When Harry met Sally one more time, I might do something drastic,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Not a fan of romcoms, Nanami?”

“I didn’t say that, and it’s Kento, stop changing it back. There are a few that I can…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Tolerate, I guess.”

Your eyebrows rose in clear curiosity. Slipping your hand out of his arm, you rounded the couch and settled next to your snacks to pat the seat next to you in invitation. Kento swallowed, a wash of heat licking up both sides of his neck and he fought the urge to pull at the neck of his sweater.

“I don’t have any romcoms on the menu for tonight, sadly…” You added just to see his eyes narrow and his lips thin in displeasure. “Come join me, please? I’ll even share my popcorn.”

A moment passed where you simply stared at one another, your heart in your throat at the thought of being rejected, but it didn’t come to pass. Kento took another swig of beer and made his way to you, sinking into the couch with a sigh of resignation that didn’t sound genuine at all. You hid your smile behind the can in your hand, twisting to look at him and meeting determined eyes.

Kento crossed an ankle over his knee, settling against the cushions. “I’ll pass on the popcorn, too noisy,” he teased, smirking when you blew a raspberry in his direction. “So, if it’s not lovey-dovey nonsense, what are we watching?”

He should have taken the wide, almost twisted grin as a hint, but once again he was oblivious to your devious ways. What a fool he was. Except, in the long run, you were the one who would have something to worry about…

~

A piercing scream tore through the sound system, followed immediately by one of your own, although thankfully not as loud. You pulled the blanket to your face, covering your eyes from the gore feast on the screen. It didn’t help that you could hear Kento chuckling by your side. So much for the idea that he might be the one taking the starring role as scream queen… dammit.

The first movie had been a classic, one you had both seen before and it was nice to be able to laugh along with your handsome companion at the overused tropes featured in many of the slasher movies from the eighties and nineties. Groaning almost in sync when the lead female chose to run deeper into the house than take the open door that led outside and booing when the killer miraculously managed to traverse the same distance as the comic relief sidekick without even breaking into a light jog.

It gave you time to indulge in conversation as well as keeping pace with the plot. You shoved him playfully when he refused to indulge your curiosities as to which, in his words, lovey-dovey movies he enjoyed. Not even your best pleading puppy eyes could get him to relent, the curl of his lips so telling of his enjoyment at your frustration.

However, he did share some juicy tidbits about his sister that you were sure to tuck away and use to embarrass Karin at a later date. She more than deserved it given that other than one short and snappy text message, you hadn’t heard from her in all the time you had been staying here. Some friend. The bluster was all feigned when you examined it, and you refused to dig any deeper.

Karin and Kento were so different you would have never guessed they were related, yet you liked them for completely different reasons. You wondered if you would keep in touch once… no, it couldn’t be like that, and you knew it deep down. This was a temporary situation that would be forgotten soon enough, you lied to yourself with a long swallow of your drink. It wasn’t worth ruining the evening by moping. Deciding it was for the best, regardless of what your heart tried to yell, you forced the feelings into a box and refocused on the here and now.

It warmed your heart to watch as Kento slowly relaxed further, his limbs losing the tension from when he first joined you, an arm draped along the back of the couch and his beer balanced on his thigh, hand loose around the glass bottle dripping in condensation. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be, making you nearly choke on your drink several times over when he offered his bitingly sarcastic commentary on the situation on screen. At times you thought his ears even looked a little red, but you couldn’t be sure given the lack of lighting. If it was true, then it was adorable that he got enjoyment from your genuine reactions to his jokes.

With the second movie fast approaching the climax of the horror, you regretted the decision to ramp things up. Most of the movie you had spent tucked tightly beneath the blanket covering your lap, squeaking at every little jump scare and even more so when Kento moved unsuspectedly. All of it was ammunition to the laughter Kento levelled at your expense, and more than once you reached out to smack at his arm with him feigning noises of hurt when you knew very well it was the lightest of touches.

Oh, he was a menace alright.

Kento, not for the first time during your stay, felt like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He watched your bravado disappear in the face of a movie you weren’t familiar with, and tried not to think too deeply when he felt the desire to pull you into the side of his body. It wasn’t worth the headache. His beer was long finished, and his hands felt too empty, fingers twitching against his thigh and pinching at the stitched seam of the couch to distract himself from what he knew would be inappropriate thoughts. He would not sully this evening with his own selfish desires.

You shrieked once more when the villain popped out unexpectedly, however, this time you lunged sideways and buried your face into his arm that lay between you both. He nearly yelped himself, barely holding back the strangle of surprise when your nose rubbed into his bicep and your small fingers curled around his forearm. His heart rested in his throat, glancing down with wide eyes and almost missing when you spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Tell me when this bit is over.”

Tentatively, he lifted his arm and your hold tightened as if he were trying to shake you off. Kento murmured a gruff affirmation and refocused on the TV. You dared to lift your chin, blinking at his unwavering expression fixed straight ahead whilst he settled his arm around your shoulders and gently drew you closer. His jaw clenched, and you nearly backed away despite your heart hammering in your chest from the movie playing, but when his fingertips rubbed gently against your upper arm… it was game over.

You melted into his side, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne surreptitiously and smiling into the soft knit of his sweater at the lingering aroma of coffee that infused his clothes. Clearly, he was a man that ran hot given the output he was currently kicking out and the longer you remained in this position, the less you felt like the blanket was necessary. It was far from unpleasant, in fact, you longed to wrap yourself in his warmth. Who needed a blanket when you could have him instead?

Closing your eyes, you smiled indulgently, knowing it would be hidden from view. This was nice—more than nice—it felt right. Like you belonged here, and you should make up for lost time by refusing to move when he inevitably tried to pry you off.

The moment didn’t come.

At last, when Kento signalled that you could look again, he didn’t make any move to shove you back to your corner of the couch as you had assumed he would. No, instead, he slouched deeper into the seat and rested his cheek atop your head like a boyfriend or a lover might do. It was comfortable, welcoming after all that had transpired in such a short space of time and honestly, you wished you had the courage to fist the front of his sweater and drag him into the desperate kiss you longed to bestow on his lips.

The walls that both you and Kento had built around yourselves were beginning to crumble like sandcastles being washed away by an approaching tide. The water was unstoppable, or so it seemed and the air in the room felt charged with possibilities.

The credits rolled and neither of you made a move. Kento held himself back for fear of something he couldn’t define, and you lacked the courage to be the first to act after the incident in the bar. Two idiots, that’s what you amounted to, and it was endlessly frustrating.

“I guess it’s time for bed,” Kento said, straightening in his seat but still making no effort to untangle you from his chest.

Alarmed, you jerked upwards and shook your head violently. “Oh no no no. There is no way you go straight to bed after horror movies!”

“I don’t plan on staying awake all night if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he countered with a sharp arch of one eyebrow. Your hand remained flush on his thigh now that you weren’t moulded into his body, and he did his best not to notice.

“No,” you pouted, exhaling loudly through your nose. “We watch something funny then go to bed. And you have to stay with me because…”

“… because you’re scared.”

You smacked him dead centre in his chest, rolling your eyes when his chuckle deepened into a rich baritone belly laugh that made your legs tremble. Thank god you were sitting down. “Shuddup.”

There was a part of you that wanted to retreat into his warmth, to make yourself a home in the space beneath his arm and listen to the beat of his heart until you found yourself too tired to resist the pull of sleep, but that was asking rather a lot.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he could read your mind, or if your thoughts were simply so obviously written across your face. Kento lifted the remote with his right hand and waved you towards him with the left. There was something unreadable in his expression, a tightness around the eyes and chiselled jawline. Again, you wondered how much of this he wanted to participate in, but the allure of his offer was too tempting to miss out on.

You resumed your position, legs tucked up and your torso leaning into the strong support of a man you were falling for. Fuck… why did it have to be like this? Closing your eyes for a moment’s reprieve, you resolved to do something about it—anything—because living this way, with these feelings and desires was taking its toll.

“That one,” you piped up when Kento passed over a movie you knew inside out. You convinced yourself that a good laugh would solve all your immediate problems and wriggled into a more comfortable position. The other matter could wait until the morning.

“A fine choice,” he murmured more to himself than anything. A smile returned to his face when the familiar movie of an overzealous police officer deployed to the seemingly pristine British countryside for showing up the city force began to play on the screen.

An hour in and your delightful laughter had stopped. Kento felt the rhythm of your breathing deepen, a swivel of his eyes told him exactly why—you were fast asleep. He gazed at your sleeping face for longer than he realised, his neck stiffening from the awkward position but not caring for the dull ache. Your features were smooth, relaxed in a peaceful slumber. There was no sign of your trepidation following the scary movies and he smiled gratefully.

You were so pretty. The truth of those words cemented into his brain, and he doubted anything could dissuade him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had gazed longingly at a previous girlfriend or lover like he was right now. There was something different about you, and yet so right that he ached to admit it out loud. Ever since the woman in the museum had mistaken you for a couple, offering advice that seemed to be tailor made specifically for his worries, he couldn’t get the idea of opening up out of his head.

His fingers graced the apple of your cheek, stroking your skin delicately like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Your face turned into the soft affection, a long comforting sigh exhaled through slightly parted lips and Kento fell even further. Why couldn’t he have met you under normal circumstances? A memory of your frantic flailing when he surprised you in his bathtub brought humour to his heart rather than the mortification of the day itself. It certainly made for an interesting story…

It took longer than it should for Kento to realise the movie had ended. Black velvet darkness decorated the quiet room, voyeuristic shadows clinging to the walls from the dark light of the blank television screen, still on but with nothing to display. The silent witnesses watched on whilst his heart beat faster and faster, head moving closer to your face until his lips brushed your forehead with heartfelt reverence.

The kiss was momentary, one singular frame in the grand scheme of his life, but to Kento, it felt like the defining moment. His old life, daily routine, the endlessly long hours at work, working out every morning simply to fit the aesthetic he believed to be the most suited to his lifestyle, it all seemed completely meaningless.

He thought of the books that lined the shelves of his office, most still unread. The places he dreamed of visiting—far flung countries with soft white sandy beaches, foreign cities with beautiful architecture to explore and even places closer to home that he never had time to venture to. How much of life was he missing out on? The food he could sample. The interests he could test out to see if any stuck, the people he could make friends with, the woman he could love…

Shit.

You were changing his entire world, and you had no fucking clue. He shouldn’t have kissed you. That realisation burned into him with vigour, the blazing inferno of his self-loathing at taking something that was not freely given, churned his stomach. Should he wake you and admit what he had done? No, it wasn’t fair to you.

Kento manoeuvred himself into a position to reach beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease into his arms and you didn’t even jostle at the movement. His eyes never left your face as you nuzzled into his chest, small fingers holding onto the fine threads of his sweater as if you were scared to lose your place, to lose your security. He wished he could be that for you, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough.

With the utmost care, he placed you into your bed, carefully unpicking your fingers and pressing the sheets into your palm as replacement before tucking them around you. Kento smiled when you murmured something unintelligible in your sleep, turning onto your side and burying your nose into your pillow with a gentle moan that spoke of nothing but comfort and peace. Despite kicking himself for the earlier kiss he had stolen without permission or consent, he found his nose and lips nestled in your hair once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, and he stood to his full height and wished you a pleasant sleep under his breath before closing your door and disappearing behind his own.

He had a lot to think about, some decisions to make that could alter the course of his life and it was likely that not much sleep would come to him this night despite his earlier conviction that he wouldn’t be awake all night.

Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a palm down his weary face until he could catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the strain evident in his features.

“What do I do?”

[delicious-in-imagines]

Sitting down for a meal with Chilchuck, Kabru, and Senshi? 👀

Your wish is my command! (Also, yay! My first request!)

Chilchuck Tims

Traveling with him inside of dungeons along with the rest of the Laios crew means, you guessed it: monster parts.

As much as he gnashes his teeth about some of the things that they eat, he's always gonna take a bite before you.

Like, will swat your spoon/fork out of your hand if you try to taste it before he does.

He doesn't know what's gonna happen! So, he'd rather eat it first before you.

On rare occasions, if he's really against what you guys are eating, and you take the first bite, he'll begrudgingly follow your lead, more often than not being pleasantly surprised.

He'll take your cutlery and plate/bowl from you to clean it, even if he isn't the one on dish duty for that meal.

If you guys are outside of the dungeon however, he likes to take you out on nice dinners.

(He's definitely not trying to make up for being a less than stellar husband, wdym?)

If you're eager to try something new, he'll also indulge with you, but he's not above ordering the classics just to be safe.

More often than not, dinner is chased with a nice bottle of wine between the two of you. Of course he's gonna share!

He can drink most of the bottle and feel fine afterwards, so usually he's relegated to corralling you home at the end of the night, trying to keep you out of trouble.

Kabru of Utaya

Travelling with Kabru's party usually means pretty standard rations inside of the dungeon.

Kabru is always looking to pick up on small details, and will usually take what you don't like and offer you whatever of his that you like instead!

If he's divying up portions for everyone, he keeps this in mind - and usually serves you first, which Mickbell usually heckles him about. (He means well.)

Will check up on you throughout the meal, seeing how you're feeling after the day in the dungeon, knowing that it can be pretty rough on people's bodies and their energy.

Depending on how you feel, he may offer up the last bit of his food to you - think of it as a little pick me up!

Outside of dungeons, he likes to take you to places you mention to him in passing, whether thats a quaint little hole in the wall, or a well known bakery that you always sigh longingly about when you smell their pastries.

He's the kind of guy that could absolutely order for you and nail it every time, even down to the small modifications. Same goes for when you wanna try something new; he always manages to pick something that you end up really liking.

He'll imbibe on occasion, especially after a successful dungeon crawl - but that's usually with the rest of the party in tow. Otherwise, he'll settle for something mild if he's just spending time with you.

Senshi of Izganda

Just like with the others, he's very particular about making sure that you have a balanced diet!

If there's anything you dislike, he tries different applications or styles to try and see if you'll like it some other way. If you don't, he doesn't fault you! There's even some stuff that he's not super fond of either.

He likes to have you help out with the golems on occasion, asking what the two of you should plant for the next time you get to harvest them!

On occasion, he likes to make something that maybe isn't completion nutritious, just to watch the way your face lights up - he just can't help but spoil you sometimes!

Instead of going out to eat, he likes to go for a walk through the marketplace with you to pick out something to cook together!

He'll usually insist on picking the cut of meat if you eat meat, though he'll check what kind of protein you're thinking about for dinner.

Otherwise, he leaves it up to you, enjoying the challenge of making something out of random ingredients that you may throw his way!

I honestly don't see him as a super huge drinker, so like Kabru, he may indulge with you in something pretty mild, maybe a cider if he's feeling like it will pair well with the meal.

[factual-fantasy]

29 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🦀

I use FireAlpaca! And occasionally MS Paint in specific situations or for fun XDD

FireAlpaca is free and I'd say its good for beginner digital artists, but also has a lot of tools for pros! But keep in mind it's got some quirks and weird bugs sometimes- use it at your own risk! <XD

Tassels is a much nicer word than "ribbonlike feelers", which is what the pokedex entry's say they are <XDD

And thank you! I'm glad you like that detail!! :))

Thank you! I'm doing my best not to overdo it <XDD

@minnesotamedic186

*The bottle sinks into my head and disappears*

Thanks you :}} 👍

@samcat2

Oh, no no- they are not a couple/gay. They are like the bestest-best brothers :}

@realmerks6969

:0 .... do I like what-

@milk-powrit

Yes! Birdos in my AU are decedents from the original Yoshi's. They live on the coast by Daisy's kingdom and have been domesticated by the Delfino people.

While Yoshi's come in all different colors.. Birdos are mostly Pink, Red or shades of purple due to red Cheep-Cheeps being the corner stone of their diet.

Now, the specific/individual Birdo that we know? The one with the bow and everything? That Birdo is supposed to be Daisy's personal pet Birdo. She's very spoiled XDD

@antisocial-bird

Thank you!! And welcome back! :))

I'm sorry to hear you've got some personal battles and school weighing you down.. <:(( I hope you can salvage some of those connections and make some new ones soon! :}}

(Refencing this post)

SKJNJ I N G O T S XDDD

(Refencing this post)

Honestly? That's rather fitting for Emmet- XDD

I'm glad to hear it! But hey! Don't call it ugly >:(( Its wonderful!! :}}

@artblock200322022

I'm glad to hear it! :DD And ooo! Whisper?? That's such a cool name!! :}}}

@illogically-austere

<XD You don't seem happy about it, I'm guessing it was more of a nightmare?

If you mean which game ending my AU follows..

Its supposed to be a modified version of the 6AM ending. Where Gregory escapes when the front doors open but he doesn't get caught by Vanessa later. He ends up coming back to the Pizzaplex 2 weeks later on his own.

If you mean an ending to the entire AU itself? I have some ideas in mind and just need to take the time to pick one of them--

@glitchhayden418

:DDD ROSES AND ORANGES!! THANK YOU!! :)))))

XDD Don't worry, I assumed it was my POV-

@yourtypicalfoxobserver

:DD Thank you! I'm glad you like what I make! :)))

Just trying something new! This new lineless pixel style is a change of pace and is helping to keep me out of art block :) 👍👍

@pinkiexneomorph277

Thank you so much!! :DD And I'll take the thumbs up XDD 👍✨

(Refencing this post)

.....Well he's got that Papyrus energy tbh-- <XDD

(Refencing this post)

NOOOO <XDDDD

(Refencing this post)

AWWWWW 😭😭 THATS SO SAD YET ADORABLEEEE

🥺Flowers........ 💖🌹💖

(Referencing the comments of this post)

XDD Don't worry, I'll track em down! >XDD

@shiocreator (Referencing this post)

WAAAHGH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDDD

@kirozil

I'm hanging in there, thank you for asking! :}

My FNAF AU/Recap/Repair project thingy has kind'a been put on the shelf for a while. But that's mostly due to my poor health and being unable to sit at my desk and draw on my PC..

(All my resent posts- this one included- and drawings have been made on a laptop while laying on a couch. All of my FNAF stuff is on my desktop PC :((( )

As for your second question, sorry, I don't take requests! 😅

Thanks for the ask! I hope you have a great day/afternoon/night as well! :}}}

@empowtisblog

That sounds like me! XD Thank you! I'm glad you liked my Octonauts stuff! :))

@captain-skyler1987

:DD Thank you! :))) 🍪💖

@soulful-rodent

I'm hanging in there as best I can 🫠

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 6: But, Honestly, Something's Gotta Give

You and Joel review each other's lists. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 5, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Semi-graphic description of masturbation. Mention of drug and alcohol addiction. Mention of past drug overdose. Diet culture type language. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 10.3K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey you!” 

You managed to resist the urge to groan when your sister threw the door open, her hip popped against it and a large glass bottle clutched in the hand she’d put in the air in excitement. 

“Please tell me that’s not wine,” you said, trying to see the label on the bottle. 

“Oh you’re such a buzzkill,” Anna rolled her eyes and visibly deflated a bit. “And no, of course it’s not wine. It’s sparkling cider, heaven forbid a girl wants to do something different once in a while…” 

“Sorry,” you said, hands up in surrender as she stepped aside and let you in. You gave her a quick hug before following her toward the kitchen. “How’ve you been?” 

“Drunk off my ass and high all the time,” she made a mocking face over her shoulder at you. “Oh wait, no, that’s just what my sister thinks I’ve been doing…” 

“You answered the door with something that looks like a wine bottle in your hand and you’ve been out of rehab for all of two months,” you said, voice sharper than you’d really intended it to be.  “Think my question was pretty reasonable.” 

“You know, a little trust would be nice,” she said, stopping at the counter and pouring the cider into two waiting wine glasses. “Kinda hard to rebuild my life if fucking no one in it trusts me to do it.”

You sighed

“You’re right,” you said, sitting at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.” 

You held up a box of candy and shook it, the little squares inside rattling in their paper and plastic confines as you did. 

“I brought you chocolate,” you smiled at her. 

“Buying my love, hm?” She asked, setting a drink in front of you before sitting down at the seat beside you. You just shrugged as she pulled off the lid, wiggling her fingers over the various truffles before selecting one without looking at the map explaining the varieties. “Well, it worked. I forgive you.” 

She bit into the candy and made a face, scrunching her nose. 

“Ugh,” she said, holding out the remaining half of the truffle, brushing it over your lips. “Coconut. Disgusting.” 

“I don’t want your spit candy…” you leaned away from her but her hand shot forward and stuffed the piece in your mouth as you spoke, making you cough for a moment before you gave up and just chewed it. “You’re disgusting.” 

“And you’re lame,” she said. “So we’re even.” 

“So,” you said, swallowing the candy. “How are you doing? Really?” 

She shrugged, her fingers lingering over the box again as she selected her next piece.

“Fine, I guess,” she said. “I have a job interview next week…” 

“No shit!” Your eyes went wide, impressed. “That’s amazing, where at?” 

“OK, be less excited because otherwise it’s going to be a letdown,” she rolled her eyes a little. “But, believe it or not, it’s an office job. Data entry. It’s going to be total bullshit but it was a foot in the door which, right now? I’ll take.” 

“Congratulations!” You smiled, genuinely happy for her. “That’s exciting.” 

She shrugged again. 

“Only exciting if I get it. And even then… pretty damn lame.” 

“A steady paycheck is only lame until you realize how nice it is,” you said. “I think you’ll like a little stability and independence.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I think you’re right. It just feels weird to be at this stage right now in my life, you know? I didn’t finish college, I have no job experience. I thought my life was going to just always be my life and now it’s not. I’m basically starting from scratch at 29. Less than scratch, I’m already divorced and have two stints in rehab under my belt.” 

You shrugged. 

“Scratch isn’t so bad.” 

“Ah right, my sister in arms, fellow member of the hot young divorcee club,” she smirked, grabbing another chocolate and popping it in her mouth before nodding slowly. “This one’s better, caramel.” 

“Not divorced yet,” you signed, rapping your fingers on the side of your glass. “Gale keeps sending over new terms… I feel like this is never going to end.” 

“It can take a while,” she nodded knowingly. “Hell, even when you’re on decent terms it takes a while, take it from someone who knows.” 

“Speaking of our exes, how is dear old Joshy?” You asked. Anna rolled her eyes a little but you saw the corners of her lips pull up. “Josharoonie. Joshimiah.” 

“Shut up. And he’s fine, last I heard,” she said. “I haven’t seen him in a bit.” 

“Really?” You said. “I’m impressed.” 

“Not that impressive,” she muttered, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Uh huh,” you replied. “Hon, I remember a time that you couldn’t stay away from him for five minutes and I remember him convincing you that oh, no, it’s just a little wine, just a little pot, just a little coke…” 

“Yeah, he’s way less hot shit when I’m sober as it happens,” she laughed a little. “God, yeah, I don’t know that I would have made it down the aisle with him if I’d been sober. I was three bottles of wine deep that day…” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you laughed a little, too. “That really should have been red flag number one, you had to get hammered to marry the guy. I probably should have tried harder to stop you.” 

“Eh,” she shrugged. “Can’t hold it against you. Not like your taste in men was all that great. No offense.” 

You just shrugged noncommittally. It was easier than arguing. You weren’t sure why you kept wanting to defend Gale to people. It’s not like he was being especially kind or caring as your marriage dissolved. It wasn’t like he’d been especially kind or caring toward you in a very long time. 

But something in you grated at people’s distaste. You were divorcing him, yes, but it’s not like you’d lost all your feeling for the man. You still cared about him. You still loved him. Or you thought you did, anyway. Sometimes, you weren’t sure if it was him you loved or if it was the life you had before that you longed for, the gentle stability of a partner who you knew would put his hand in the small of your back when maneuvering around you in the bathroom in the morning and would program the coffee pot before you went to bed at night. There was a comforting, quiet certainty in knowing the pattern of someone’s scars and where to find them in the dark. You hadn’t had that in a while. 

But you hadn’t had any kind of special consideration in even longer, your husband paying you and your wants and needs very little mind as the two of you moved along toward divorce through the final years of your marriage. It was slow at first - curt words and quick frustrations - and then all at once, with raised voices and wounds that cut deeper than you’d realized at the time. 

Part of you wondered if Gale would have stayed as he was when you met him if it wasn’t for you. Like maybe you’d driven him to this version of himself, the version that seemed to be vindictive and mean now and had been thoughtless and cold as everything collapsed. Maybe, if you’d been less infuriating or self centered or immature, he’d have remained his brilliant, pensive self. Maybe he’d still have wanted to steal you away into his office to go down on you between classes, your legs spread wide as he pulled your ass to the edge of his desk and plunged his tongue inside of you. Maybe he’d still want to take you to restaurants you didn’t know to eat foods you’d never tried, his hand slipping up your thigh as he fed you your first bite of caviar. Maybe he’d still call you Doll and look at you like you had something worth experiencing somewhere inside you.

Maybe you’d ruined him. Maybe you’d ruined everything. 

The oven timer dinged and Anna jumped up, grabbing pot holders and pulling a baking dish out of the oven as you frowned. 

“What?” She asked, getting out plates. “I invited you over for lunch, I was obviously going to feed you.” 

“OK, yeah, not obvious,” you said. “And I figured that it might mean… I don’t know, sandwiches or something, what is that?” 

“Mom’s mac and cheese,” she smiled, proud. You gaped at her for a moment. “What! I was a housewife for years, I did pick up a few skills.” 

“You followed Joshamania around on tour for years,” you corrected her. “I don’t think you had the facilities to make Mom’s mac and cheese at your disposal.” 

“OK so maybe it’s a new skill,” she said, spooning the food onto plates. “But I’m not totally useless.” 

She put the plate in front of you - it was chipped, one of the same ones you’d eaten off of every day as a kid - and sat next to you, tucking her leg below her as she did before the two of you dug into the pasta. 

It smelled warm and familiar, a little like your kitchen on Anna’s birthday when you were kids and you took a bite. But you only chewed it for half a second before you dropped the food back on your plate and grabbed the glass of sparkling juice, chugging it as Anna made a disgusted face. 

“What did you do to it?” You coughed, trying to get the taste out of your mouth. “That’s the saltiest thing I’ve ever eaten!” 

“It said to salt the water!” She coughed, too. “And add salt to taste in the sauce…” 

“Did you taste it?” You asked, brows raised. “And how much salt did you put in the water?” 

“I don’t know!” She said. “It didn’t say how much to put in. And no, I didn’t taste it, I thought it’d be gross to eat out of the pan I was cooking in…” 

“This is what’s gross,” you said before pouring another glass of juice and chugging that, too. “Jesus… that tour bus really didn’t have a kitchen did it?” 

“Nope,” she took the bottle and just started drinking straight from it. “But if it did, I’d probably have killed half the band…” 

You snorted at that, almost shooting sparkling juice out of your nose when you did. As the two of you regained your composure, you looked at your little sister. It sometimes felt like the two of you had gone down completely opposite paths, everything about you so disparate it was like she was a total stranger to you. 

It’s not as though you were related by blood. Your parents had adopted Anna when she was a baby and you were almost three years old, back when their marriage was still functional and bringing another child into it sounded like a good idea instead of total insanity. But you’d have thought growing up together with the same parental neuroses and sharing the same bathroom would have made it so you somewhat resembled each other in the way your lives had turned out. 

It hadn’t, though. You were valedictorian of your high school class, went to an ivy league school, got a doctorate and started teaching at your alma mater. You’d married the first real boyfriend you had, the only time you’d ever interacted with a cop was the two times you’d been pulled over for speeding and you could count the number of concerts you’d been to on one hand. 

Anna, on the other hand, had finished high school by the skin of her teeth. She’d been in her first semester of community college when your mother died and she dropped out almost immediately, no matter how hard you tried to talk her out of it. She got involved with a protest group for a while before she started following her favorite band on tour. She ended up sleeping with half of them before she wound up married to the guitarist. Your life had been quiet and stable and hers had been free and exciting and yet you’d both wound up back in your home town, divorced and trying to figure out where to go next. 

Maybe you were more like her than you realized. 

“I think I have the stuff for sandwiches,” she said, shoving back from the table and heading for the fridge. “Because yeah, that’s inedible…” 

“Don’t worry about it on my account,” you said, pushing the offending plate away. “I’m going to dinner with Joel in a few hours so…” 

“Joel?” She straightened up from behind the fridge door, her eyebrows raised as she watched you. “Wait, like a date?” 

“Please,” you scoffed. “It’s Joel. Be real.” 

“Right, you’re too straight laced for someone like that,” she rolled her eyes, going back into the fridge. 

“No I’m not!” 

“Yes, you are,” she said, standing up again and bumping the door closed with her hip. She came back to the table and dropped a Lunchable in front of you. You raised your eyebrows and she glared at you. “Not a fucking word.” 

“I didn’t say a thing,” you said, pulling back the plastic wrap lid. “And you know that you couldn’t pay Joel enough to date me…” 

She scoffed, opening her own Lunchable. 

“I’m not his type!” You protested, resisting the urge to kick her under the table. 

“Type schmype,” she waved you off. “Mom always thought you two were going to get married one day…” 

“Yeah, because her judgement was always so stellar,” you rolled your eyes, making a little sandwich of meat and cheese and crackers. 

“Say what you want about her taste in men but Mom knew you,” Anna said, her tone almost uncomfortably earnest. “You’re so much like her. So, so like her. She knew. And she said it, even after you were engaged to Gale she said it. Because she knew.” 

“Well,” you shrugged after a moment. “She got it wrong.” 

You ended up staying at Anna’s for a few hours. She told you more about the meetings she was attending, how she liked her sponsor. Things seemed to be going well for her, it was stabilizing. So much better than it had been when you’d decided to come back to Texas a few months earlier. She’d passed out at a party after taking drugs from someone she barely knew. Thankfully, someone she was there with was smart enough to get her to a hospital when she wouldn’t wake up. You’d flown down and sat with her at the hospital, talked to her doctors, helped convince her to go to rehab. For a few torturous hours on the plane ride, you thought you might lose your sister, too. That you’d have no one and you’d be adrift in the world, lost and alone and as empty of meaning as you’d always been afraid you were. You’d decided then that, if Anna lived, you were moving back.

But navigating your relationship with Anna since was a balancing act. Part of you wanted to become her mother, to take care of her and guide her and support her through everything. It seemed safest, making decisions for her since she seemed to be so bad at making them for herself. But you knew that wasn’t tenable, not really. She was fiercely independent, she always had been. She’d rather make all the wrong decisions on her own than have someone make the right ones for her. But being just her sister didn’t feel like enough, not when she was struggling and trying to find her way. 

“I hope you and Joel have fun tonight,” she said in a sing song voice as she walked you to the front door.

“You’re obsessed,” you rolled your eyes. “I promise, it’s nothing interesting…” 

“You two have been spending a lot of time together for nothing interesting.” 

“We’ve always spent a lot of time together,” you said, turning to face her as she stood in the doorway. “He half lived at our house when we were kids if you recall.” 

“Yeah, you were in love with him then, too,” she smirked. 

“Not even going to dignify that with a response,” you said, not wanting to think about how well your sister seemed to know you. “You know where to find me if you need me, right?” 

“Oh gosh,” she huffed dramatically. “Joel’s?” 

“Alright, bye!” You waved and Anna cackled.

“Hey,” she called from her door as you went to get to the car. “I’m happy you’re back.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Believe it or not, I’m happy I’m back too.” 

***

“You got everything?” Joel asked, herding Sarah toward the truck. 

“Yes Dad,” she rolled her eyes. 

“Got your pajamas?” 

“Yes.” 

“Clothes for tomorrow? Including clean underwear?” 

She sighed. 

“Yes, duh.” 

“Don’t ‘duh’ me,” he said. “You forget stuff you need all the time and I’m not gonna just be at home waitin’ for you to need something tonight. If you forget it, you’re on your own kid.” 

“I have everything.” 

“Vanessa’s present?” 

“Dad,” she stopped and looked at him. “I’m 11. I’m basically a teenager. I have all my stuff.” 

Joel tried really hard to not laugh. 

“Alright,” he said. “In the truck, you almost teenager.” 

She smiled proudly before obeying. 

“Can I put on my playlist?” She asked, leaning between the front seats. 

“You have to give me the phone then,” he said. “And you have to sit back and buckle up.” 

She pulled up the playlist before dropping the phone in his hand and sitting back. 

“You excited for Vanessa’s birthday party?” He asked as he started the playlist. “Seatbelt.” 

“Yeah!” She said, obeying and buckling up. “Melanie is gonna be there, too, and she was bringing her karaoke machine. Can I get a karaoke machine?” 

“You gonna let me use it?” Joel asked, looking at her in the rear view mirror. 

“Only if you sing something besides old man music,” she smirked at him. 

“I don’t listen to old man music…” 

“You listen to old man music,” she said. “You’re gonna tell Aunt Goldie I say hi, right?” 

“I’ll tell her you say hi,” he smiled a little. “Even though I figured we’d pretend the world didn’t revolve around you for one night…” 

Sarah scoffed and he could tell she was trying not to smile, too. 

“The world revolves around me every night,” she said. “As it should.” 

Joel laughed and pulled up in front of Vanessa’s house. 

“Alright center of the universe,” he said, pausing the music and handing her the phone. “Go, have fun, be on your best behavior…” 

“You too,” she said, getting out of the truck before pausing on her way out the door. “Dad, I think I forgot something…” 

Joel sighed. 

“What do you need, Baby Girl?” 

She just laughed. 

“I’m just messing with you. Have fun!” 

Sarah jumped out of the truck before he had a chance to respond and ran to the door, her duffle bag bouncing on her arm. He waited until she was safely inside and waved to Vanessa’s mom - whose name he could never fucking remember - before he headed to your place. 

He hadn’t just triple checked to make sure that Sarah had everything she needed, he’d also made sure he was ready, too. 

Joel wasn’t sure why he was so anxious. It’s not like he didn’t see you all the damn time now. It seemed like if the two of you weren’t hanging out you were texting. Even though it sometimes felt like you were getting reacquainted, it was still like you just knew him, knew him on a level no one else ever had. But this was different. He was deliberately owning up to all the things he wanted to change about himself, all the ways he’d fallen short in his life. It was uniquely vulnerable. He didn’t want to go in unprepared. 

So he’d made sure he had the list. And that the list didn’t make him sound like a total fucking idiot. He got his truck washed. He made sure he had a pair of pants that weren’t just blue jeans and a clean shirt with a collar. 

He knew that things weren’t going perfectly for you, either. That was the whole point of this entire plan, the two of you figuring out your lives together. But you were still you. He wanted you to know him but he also wanted you to know the best of him. Not the shitty things, not the things he was ashamed of. But… you were still you, the only person he’d want to do something like this with. He’d just have to get past it. 

Joel took a deep breath and knocked on your door. You opened it almost immediately, putting in an earring as you did. You were in a dress that looked like it had been made for you, skimming over your body, dipping low enough that he could see the curve of your breasts and, for half a second, Joel’s mind went back to the night before in the pool. You’d been so close then. He could feel all of you against him, all your softness and all your warmth - even if your hands were cold. There was a moment he lived in for longer than he wanted to admit, one where it felt like it would have been OK to kiss you, to hold your body tightly to him, to pull you inside and peel off your swimsuit so he could run his hands over the goosebump prickled flesh below. He’d come to that thought, alone in his bed once he was sure Sarah was asleep and he wouldn’t be interrupted. He’d come so hard he had to muffle his moans and he stayed there, cock in his hand as he stared up at the ceiling, as he tried to shove the thought of you away. You didn’t want that, you’d made that much perfectly clear more than a decade before. This wasn’t going to take him anywhere good. 

And now you were standing there, in a dress that couldn’t make you look more appealing if it was designed by temptation itself. 

God fucking dammit. 

“Jesus, Goldie,” he said after he collected himself as much as he could. “Feelin’ a little underdressed here.” 

“Shit,” your eyebrows drew together and you looked down at yourself. “I don’t have much that’s  dressy, this was from this cocktail event the university wanted to trot me out like some show pony for last fall… I can see what else I have if you’re OK to wait for a minute….” 

You turned to go back inside but Joel caught your wrist and you frowned.

“You look great,” he said. “Besides, I know how long ‘a minute’ is in woman getting ready time…” 

“Oh fuck off.” 

“…and I’m starving. Let’s go.” 

You gave him an exasperated look before shrugging into a trench coat and grabbing your bag and gold notebook from the table just inside the door. 

“You look good, too, by the way,” you said once the two of you were in his truck and he was heading for the restaurant you’d picked the other day. Joel scoffed. “Hey! I mean it, you do. Should wear something besides jeans and t-shirts or flannels now and then, you clean up well.” 

“Next time we hang out, I’ll rent a tux,” he smirked a little and glanced at you, just catching a glimpse of your eye roll as he did. “Polish up my shoes, whole nine…” 

“Should just buy the tux,” you replied. “Seems like a smart investment for a man of your profession and lifestyle…” 

“Oh, sure.” 

“Got all those galas to go to…” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Awards shows…” 

“Naturally.” 

“Black tie weddings.” 

“You gonna get some nice formal gowns?” He teased back. “Come with me to all these hoity-toity outings?”

You laughed. 

“Sure, Joel. I’ll be your back up date to any and all formal events.” 

The restaurant you wanted to try was definitely nicer than anything Joel had gone to in a while but it’d been easy for you to talk him into it. He remembered you being more excited about food when you were kids, how you’d watch his mom in the kitchen sometimes when you stayed for dinner or how you’d reach over and steal fries off his tray at the burger place down the street from your apartment when you were so hungry that your own fries weren’t going to cut it. Now, though, it seemed like anytime he wasn’t deciding what you were eating you ate the kind of shit that you scrunched your nose up at in high school. People and tastes could change, of course. He wasn’t stupid. But it didn’t feel like you. It felt like some holdover from that jackass you’d spent the last decade with. 

So as soon as you texted him the menu and just said “They have Osso buco!” he was in. He didn’t know what the fuck Osso buco was, he was just excited to see you excited about something that made you happy when he knew you before. 

The hostess sat the two of you in a quiet corner, giving you a knowing look, and Joel more watched you pore over the menu than read his own, an intense and serious look on your face as you went through it line by line. 

“If I got a bottle of wine, would you have at least a glass?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes from across the table. 

“Anything for you, baby,” he teased. 

“I hate you.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“No you don’t. And yes, I’ll drink your alcoholic juice.” 

“Good,” you said, looking back down at the menu. “Because the one I really want isn’t available by the glass and I don’t need that much wine…” 

“Look at you, all fancy and shit,” he said. “Ordering your wine by the bottle…” 

“Almost like we’re grownups,” you said absently. “What are you getting?” 

“Why, so you can steal some?” He asked, brows raised. 

You looked at him, face serious. 

“Yes. Duh.” 

Joel sighed. 

“You’re the worst person. And I’m getting the spaghetti. Don’t bother calling me lame, I know I’m lame.” 

“Well, as long as you’re aware,” you said, looking back at the menu. 

“What are you getting, Miss ‘I order whole bottles of wine’ level of adult? That one thing you were excited about? The Oss… whatever the fuck?” 

“Osso buco,” you smiled across the table at him. “And probably that…. But it’s probably more than I really need and…” 

“Goldie,” Joel cut you off, tone serious enough that you actually, fully lifted your gaze from the menu in front of you. “Don’t let that asshole ruin this. Get the… whatever it is.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Osso buco it is.” 

Once the food was ordered and the wine was poured, Joel put his list next to him on the table and you did, too, your ever present gold notebook sitting in front of you. 

“So,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as awkward as he felt. “How do you want to do this?” 

“You first?” You asked, wincing a little. 

He nodded and looked over the list one last time before turning it around and putting it in the middle of the table. You leaned over - don’t look down your dress, don’t look down your dress, don’t look down your dress - and started reading. 

“It’s not in any real order,” Joel said, cupping the back of his neck. “Just… wrote shit as I thought of it.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“Throw Sarah a pool party,” you said. 

“Yeah,” he laughed a little. “She’s been sayin’ the last few years that she wants a pool party for her birthday but… I’ve just been too swamped to make it happen. Always end up taking her and her friends somewhere like Putt Putt Golf or something, somewhere I don’t have to plan shit, I can just show up. She always has fun but I know she’d like the pool party. I just need to make sure my shit is together enough to do it.” 

“Play music again,” you moved on to the next item and you frowned, looking up at him. “You stopped?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Well, no. I didn’t stop playing at home but… Before Sarah was born, there were a few local places I played at sometimes. Back then, it was because I hoped I’d meet some record label asshole who’d sign me. But I miss it. It was fun, playin’ for people. Would like to do that again.” 

You nodded, going back to the list. 

“Start your own contracting company,” you smiled at that. “Business owner Joel Miller…” 

“Future business owner,” he corrected you. “Don’t own shit yet. Not sure I know how to own shit.” 

“You’re smart,” you said. “And I’m pretty sure by our powers combined, we can at least Google a lot of this stuff.” 

“Probably should have done what you told me,” he said. “Gotten my damn associates…” 

“I am right about most things,” you said. There was no smugness in your voice, almost the opposite. Like you were sorry you’d been right about this thing in particular. 

“Just didn’t see the point then,” he sighed. “Hindsight is 20/20, I guess.” 

“It tends to be that way,” you conceded before looking back down at the paper. “Design one big project… is that a work one?” 

“Yeah,” he smiled a little sheepishly. “Figured… I dunno, it’ll take a bit to get my own business going, you know? Gonna keep working for the company I work for now for a bit yet. Should try and make it something I like while I’m there.”

You smiled at him in that way you had, the way that started small but spread fast. It reminded him of the way light started to poke through curtains in the morning, slipping in through a crack, illuminating the things directly around it before they were thrown open entirely and the sun broke through everything, spilling onto every surface, drowning out the darkness quick and sure. 

“Good,” you said, still smiling in that wide, open way. “You should like your job, you’re there too much to not like it.” 

You went back to the list and Joel took a sip of wine. 

“Find a stable relationship,” you said, a little quieter.  

The server returned, putting your plates in front of the two of you and you cleared your throat, setting the paper to the side and smiling kindly as the waiter asked if there was anything else the two of you needed before excusing himself. 

“OK,” Joel said, looking at your food from across the table. “I see why you were excited now, that looks fuckin’ delicious.” 

He reached over and stabbed his fork into the meat on your plate as you gaped at him, appalled. He ate the bite he’d taken, chewing thoughtfully. 

“Yup,” he said. “Fuckin’ delicious.” 

“You’re such a dick!” You reached over and stabbed your fork into his pasta. 

“Hey!” 

You ignored him, twirling your fork haphazardly as you tried not to lean into the food in front of you before taking it back across the table. You ate the spaghetti and nodded to yourself as you did. 

“Definitely scratch pasta,” you said. “Have to come back here and get some of my own. Or just steal more of yours…” 

“If you want pasta, order pasta,” he said. 

“If you want Osso buco, order Osso buco,” you replied, fork up and ready to stab his hand if it creeped across the table.” 

“Maybe I will, now that I know what it is,” he teased, digging into his own plate this time. 

“So,” you said after the two of you had the time to have a few bites of food. “Stable relationship, huh?” 

“Yup,” he nodded, taking a sip of wine. “Not sure I even want to own up to the last time I had one of those…” 

“When was the last time?” You frowned, picking up your wine glass. 

“Can’t judge me.” 

“Too late,” you smirked a little. He glared at you and you laughed. “Come on, Joel. It’s me. I always judge you all the time.” 

He rolled his eyes and then sighed. 

“It’s… been a while,” he said eventually. “But… Haven’t been on more than three dates with anyone since Sarah was about four.” 

Your eyes went wide. 

“I said you can’t judge me!” 

“I’m not judging!” You said quickly. “Just… shocked is all. You always had a tendency to go through them fast but I always kind of figured you’d outgrown that over the years.” 

“Well, less fast now and more that women in their 20s don’t really want to play stepmom,” he said wryly. “Never got as far as introducing any of ‘em to Sarah, haven’t bothered really looking since I’ve been in my 30s. But… I dunno. It’d be nice, I think. Have someone to come home to, that sort of thing.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“What?” He asked after you were quiet for what seemed like too long. 

“Can I ask what happened with Sarah’s mom?” You asked, fork hovering over your plate. “I don’t want to dredge anything up but…” 

Joel shrugged. 

“Not much to dredge up,” he said. “We… well, we were… casual. Real casual. She got pregnant, I tried to do the right thing but she wasn’t really interested in that…” 

You frowned. 

“Right thing?” 

“Suggested we go down to the courthouse,” he twisted the slender stem of wine glass in his thick fingers. “Make it legal. Since we were bringin’ a kid into the world seemed like the least we could do but… anyway. She said no but that she’d try dating me. We didn’t have much in common, didn’t get along all that well for longer than a few hours. Her shootin’ me down was probably one of the best things to happen to me, really. Especially when it came to untangling the legalities of it all when she took off.” 

You winced. 

“I’m really sorry, Joel,” you said softly. “That… that’s shitty. It really, really is.” 

He shrugged. 

“I got Sarah,” he said. “Do it all again in a heartbeat for that kid.” 

You smiled at that, a smaller, softer smile, one that felt like it was just for him. 

“It all worked out the way it was supposed to,” you said. “None of it was a mistake, it was just… Sarah, being inevitable.” 

He laughed once at that, smiling a little. He liked thinking of it that way, his life putting itself in just the right order that his daughter could exist. Now, he just needed to put it in the right order that he felt like he was doing something with the rest of it. 

“Alright,” he said. “Enough about my shit, let’s see yours.” 

You handed him his list back and opened your notebook, holding it to your chest for a moment. 

“Remember the lack of judgement I gave you,” you cautioned. “I expect the same back.” 

“So plenty of judgement,” he smirked a little. “Got it. 

You glared. 

“Gimme the list, Goldie.” 

You sighed and handed it over. 

Joel took half a second to appreciate the fact that he was holding your notebook again. For something that was always with you, it was something he rarely touched and never opened himself. You’d shown him one or two things inside it before but you’d never just surrendered it to him like this. He had to fight the urge to flip to the start of it and read everything he could, try to swallow up every thought you’d had that you thought was important enough to put down on paper. 

Instead, he just cleared his throat and started at the top of your list. 

“Finalize divorce,” he said, eyes tracing over your letters. “That’s a good one. Where you at in that whole process?” 

“I have no idea,” you sighed. “Every time I think we’re close the agreement gets tossed out and we start back over. I swear he’s just trying to piss me off sometimes…” 

“Probably is,” Joel said. “He’s a jackass.” 

“So you keep saying,” you half smiled at him. 

“My only issue with this one is that it’s not something you can really control,” he said, looking over the table to you. “I don’t want you beating yourself up or taking less than you deserve because you’re trying to tick a box…” 

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t worry.” 

“Better not,” he said, looking back down at the paper. “Finish book, alright. That one you can control…” 

“Kind of control,” you corrected him, a crooked smile on your face. “Sometimes, the words just won’t come and there’s not much you can do about it.” 

“Still,” he said. “Got more control over that than anything with fuckin’ Brad…” You shook your head a little, exasperated, but were still smiling. “Have any idea about what you want this one to be about?” 

“Not really,” you sighed. “I’ve started a few things but I keep scrapping it. So many outlines for no goddamn reason…” 

“You’ll get there.” 

“Maybe,” you poked at the meat on your plate. “Or maybe I told the only story I have that’s worth telling. Maybe I’m all used up.” 

“You’re not,” he said gently. You nodded a little but kept looking at your plate. “Hey. Goldie. Look at me.” You sighed and obeyed, meeting his eyes, your face frustrated but your gaze sad. “You’re not. You’re…. You’re fuckin’ amazing, you’re gonna make something great. You are.” 

You smiled tightly and, for a moment, looking at you was too intimate to do in public. He looked back down at the page. 

“Be there for Anna,” he said. “What, like you aren’t now?” 

“I still haven’t figured out how to do it right,” you replied. “I just… I need to find the right balance. And I need to make sure I keep up with her, I can’t just… I’m worried she’s going to land herself back in the hospital and I’m her big sister. I need to make sure she doesn’t.” 

He just nodded, jaw tight, moving on to the next item. 

“Go on a date,” he said, a twinge in his gut that he didn’t want to acknowledge. “Alright, that’s not bad…” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll need your help with that,” you said and his head shot up, meeting your eyes across the table. 

“What… how?” 

“Oh, don’t panic,” you waved him off. “Not expecting you to do it. But I’ve never used a dating app or anything like that, I have no idea how to meet someone now. I imagine you’re an expert…” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“What! It’s a good skill to have,” you said. “One that I am painfully lacking. I’ll take all the help I can get.” 

He sighed. Because of course this would mean finding you a date. Jesus. 

“Yeah, I’ll help,” he said. “Make sure you’re not attracting any weirdos…” 

“Not sure that you’re the best help for that part,” you teased. He rolled his eyes. “But… thank you.” 

“Yup.” 

He went back to the paper. 

“Get a cat. Really?” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m kind of tired of how empty my house feels but I’m not up for taking care of a dog. And cats are cute.” 

“Promise you’re not just gonna turn into a cat lady?” He teased, looking back to you. “Get yourself a dozen of ‘em, use them as an excuse to never put yourself out there.” 

“That’s between me and my cats, isn’t it?” You teased back. “Don’t get mad because you’re at risk of being replaced by a fluffy thing who sometimes scratches the shit out of my furniture.” 

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t scratch the shit out of your furniture,” he said wryly and you snorted. He went back to the list, taking a sip of wine and almost choked on it. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed the last item on the list until now, written in red ink instead of black and circled. 

“What?” You asked. He glanced up at you before looking back at the paper. 

“Well…” he cleared his throat. “Last one’s… interestin’.” 

“Oh,” you laughed. “Yeah… right…” 

He put the notebook in the middle of the table and tried to regain his composure for a moment. 

“Surprised it’s a priority for you…”

“Well I don’t know about priority,” you laughed. “But, honestly, something’s gotta give…” 

“Well,” Joel cleared his throat again. “Have you fucked anyone since Brad?” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t answer. 

“Goldie.” 

“Joel.” 

“C’mon.” 

“No, alright?” You snapped. “I haven’t.” 

“And you two separated when?” 

You scrunched your nose. 

“Come on,” he said. “When’d you break up…” 

“A year ago last month,” you muttered, not looking at him. 

“Goldie!” 

“What!” 

He lowered his voice and leaned conspiratorially across the table towards you. 

“You haven’t had sex in a year?” He hissed. “That’s… how…” 

“Hey,” you replied, pointing at him accusingly from across the table. “That is not what I said.” 

Joel frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he watched you. 

“What do you mean that’s not…” his eyes went wide as you avoided his gaze. “Goldie.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up?” You snapped. “Come on.” 

“So when was the last time you fucked your soon to be ex-husband while you were in the process of divorcing him?” He asked, looking around as though someone would overhear and make problems. 

“Well now I really don’t want to say…” 

“Goldie.” 

“Please don’t make me say it.” 

“I’m not dropping this,” he said. “When was the last time?”

“The night before I left Rhode Island, OK?” You hissed, voice low. 

“Goldie!” 

“Look, it was just like… I don’t know, a goodbye fuck, OK?” You sat back in your seat and adjusted your skirt, looking anywhere but directly at him. “It’s not like I have a bunch of people waiting in the wings, I wasn’t sure when I’d have the chance again, it seemed appropriate…” 

“Definitely wasn’t that…” 

“Never should have mentioned this…” 

“Gonna move ‘get laid’ to the top of the fuckin’ list now,” Joel muttered. “Jesus Christ…” 

“It’s not that easy, alright?” You said, actually looking at him now. “I’ve basically been with just one person my whole life…” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“What?” 

“One person?” Joel said, brows raised. “Really?” 

You leveled him with a look.

“Joel.” 

“I am right here.” 

“You know what I mean,” you snapped. “Come on, don’t…” 

“Don’t what?” He asked. “Want a little explanation when you say I never happened?” 

“That’s not what I said!” 

“It’s not?” He said. “Because that’s sure what it sounded like…” 

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine, OK? I’ve been with two people my whole life since you apparently want to make sure the notches on my bedpost are the right damn number…” 

“So that’s what we were?” He asked, his blood getting hot. “Just a bedpost notch?” 

“Don’t do this,” you said. “I’m not relitigating prom night with you…” 

“Is it relitigating if we never fucking talked about it to begin with?” He asked. “Because I think that’s just litigating it…” 

“Can I get you folks anything else tonight?” The server appeared beside your table, smiling kindly. 

“Just the bill,” you said quickly. “Separate, put the wine on mine, please.” 

He left and Joel waited until he was out of earshot to continue. 

“Why?” He asked. “Why don’t you want to talk about this?” 

“Because it was a decade and a half ago, Joel!” You snapped. “We’re in our 30s now! We were 18 years old then, we were kids, what do you want me to say?” 

“That it wasn’t nothing!” He snapped. “Because Jesus Christ, if you ended our friendship over nothing, I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with that…” 

“No rush on this,” the server smiled and left the check in the middle of the table. 

You pulled your wallet from your bag and Joel got his out of his back pocket and the two of you put cards into the book before the server quickly came back to collect it. You took a deep breath and looked at Joel. 

“I didn’t end our friendship, Joel,” you said. “I did what I needed to do and I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Fine.” 

“Thanks, y’all, for coming out tonight,” the server dropped the cards and the slips back off at the table. “Hope you both have a great rest of your evening and we’ll see you next time.” 

You gave him a tight smile and signed your slip as Joel did the same with his before smacking his pen down with too much force on the table. The two of you got up wordlessly and headed for the truck. 

This wasn’t the road he’d meant to go down. He hadn’t meant to bring it up at all but you’d caught him off guard. The thought that prom night hadn’t been anything to you wasn’t something he’d ever considered. He’d always assumed it had been a big deal because of how you reacted. It had been a big deal for him. It had been a big deal before you took off across the country. After that - after it had made him lose you - it was everything. It was everything he’d ever wanted, it was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. It was proof that what he felt for you wasn’t some childish, one-sided crush and it was evidence that all you’d ever be was a girl he’d loved once. The one thing it had certainly never been was nothing. 

You sat, arms crossed over your stomach, staring out the window in silence as Joel drove you home, a knot of fear settling in his gut. What if this was it again? What if you just left again? He’d just gotten you back, life felt more whole than it had in years, what if you just moved on? 

He pulled into your driveway and put the truck in park before he sighed, looking over at you. 

“Want to come in?” You asked quietly. “I got a bottle of tequila that looks fancy as fuck as a gift. We can get hammered.” 

The knot in his stomach eased ever so slightly. 

“Yeah, alright.” 

He followed you inside and you got the bottle from the kitchen, pressing it into Joel’s hand. He went to sit on your couch but you walked past it and he frowned. 

“Don’t feel like sitting there in this stupid dress,” you said, lifting one stiletto clad foot and taking it by the heel, pulling it off. “I’ll be back in a minute…” 

“Can I come?” Joel asked before he thought better of it. He didn’t like the idea of you being more than just a few feet away in that moment. Like if you were somehow out of his sight, you’d vanish and it’d be a decade before he had a chance to have you back in his life again. 

You just looked at him for a moment before you shrugged. 

“If you really want,” you did the same thing with the other shoe and Joel trailed behind you to your bedroom. 

“Just stay out there,” you called from inside your closet. 

“What, don’t want me checkin’ you out?” He said in a teasing voice even though that thought made his stomach clench. 

“Joel,” you sounded exasperated. 

“Sorry.” 

He’d been over to your house plenty but had never been in your room before. It looked like you, though. So like what your room had been like in high school, just more refined. Like you’d grown into your taste in the past few years. The stack of books on your nightstand was orderly instead of total chaos and there was a charging stand there instead of a tangle of chords. Instead of movie posters held up with tape and thumb tacks, there were framed vintage-style prints lining the walls. Your dresser was less cluttered and more curated with little things that clearly mattered to you: a ticket stub and book mark in a matted frame, a wedding picture, a little glazed clay vase that looked handmade.

He went to your dresser slowly, as though what was there might bite him if he moved to suddenly. The wedding picture practically stared him down, the glare of it harsh, like a too bright spotlight being pointed directly at his eyes. 

He picked up the frame delicately, the frame enameled silver. You were beautiful, in a gauzy white dress that hugged your body and a veil in your hair, a hand on Brad’s chest as you looked into his eyes. He was beaming, looking like someone who’d just gotten exactly what he wanted. But your smile was more subdued. Joel wasn’t sure if it was just peaceful or if you weren’t as happy as he’d always thought women were when they got married. 

But the longer he looked at the picture, the less the woman in it looked like you. The dress didn’t look like something you’d really pick. Your nails were done in a way he’d never seen you wear them. Your makeup, too, looked off. Like someone had dressed you up as a character, as though you’d been cast in the role as bride and showed up to play your part and nothing more. 

“I should probably get rid of that,” you said, making Joel jump. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. You were in leggings and a burnt orange Longhorns sweatshirt now that was several sizes too big for you, sleeves pushed almost to your elbows and sliding down. “Just can’t bring myself to.” 

Joel nodded slowly, setting it down. 

“Looked beautiful,” he said. You scoffed. “What? You did.” 

“Thanks,” you said, going and pulling back the blanket on your bed. Joel paused before he went around to the other side of it, tequila bottle still dangling from one hand. He stood there for a moment, half reaching for the bedspread, half watching you for permission. You stretched over and pulled the blanket back. “Shoes off, don’t be gross.” 

“I’m not a fuckin’ animal,” he rolled his eyes before he sat on the edge of the bed, kicking his shoes off without bothering to untie them and climbing in beside you. He leaned against the headboard and you did, too, a good two feet between your bodies in the king sized bed. “That why you keep it?” 

You frowned. 

“Keep what?” 

“The picture,” he nodded to it. “Because you looked pretty?” 

You laughed a little. 

“No,” you said. “Not that. Just… feels very final, getting rid of the last wedding picture. Once that’s gone, it’s like it never happened at all. There’s nothing tangible left of the last ten years of my life, it’s all just smoke.” 

Joel nodded slowly and opened the tequila bottle before passing it to you. You took it, your fingers brushing his, and took a drink, face scrunched in a wince when you handed the bottle back. He laughed. 

“That good, huh?” 

“No, it’s good,” you coughed a little. “I just should have also grabbed… I don’t fucking know, lime and salt or something.” 

He took a drink himself, appreciating the small sting as it went down. It was smooth, definitely better than anything he’d buy himself, but he needed at least a little burn in that moment. 

“You’re just a baby,” he said, looking at the bottle. “Don’t need a damn thing with this stuff…” 

“Alright, macho man,” you snatched the bottle from him and he laughed before you tipped it back for longer than you had before. He watched you swallow twice before lowering it with a cough. “There,” you managed eventually. “Who’s the baby now?” 

“Still you,” he clapped you on the shoulder and you fixed him with a glare but handed him the bottle, anyway. 

“Gee thanks.” 

“Anytime.” 

He took another sip and looked around your room a bit more, gaze pausing on one of the vintage style posters. He frowned for a second, trying to place why it felt familiar when he was too far away to read the movie title before he laughed. 

“What?” 

“Is that some fancy style Curtis and Viper poster?” He looked at you and you smiled. He passed you the bottle. “Where’d you even find that shit? There’s no way they made something that classy for fuckin’ Curtis and Viper…” 

“Etsy is a beautiful thing,” you said. “I can show you if you want.” 

“So you’re gonna stick around long enough to show me, then?” He asked, regretting it almost as soon as it was out of his mouth, especially once the small hurt was there on your face. “Shit… I…” 

“I wasn’t planning to take off across the country anytime too soon, Joel,” you said cooly. 

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… Just… It scares me. I like having you here. You belong here. Don’t want to lose you again, I just got you back.” 

“I don’t want to lose you again either,” you said quietly, looking down at the tequila bottle instead of at Joel. 

“I’m not the one who left, Goldie.” 

You were silent but you nodded. 

“You never even told me why,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know what happened… still don’t…” 

“I don’t really feel like digging up ancient history,” you said, your thumb tracing over the curve of the bottle before looking up at him. “I mean, is that really what you want to do? You really want to go through all of that?” 

He sighed. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know.” 

“I know what I want,” you said. 

He could feel your eyes on him. He met them.

“What?” 

“I want you in my life,” you said quietly. “I don’t want to go back to missing you all the time. I want my best friend back.” 

He sighed. 

“I want that, too.” 

You smiled a little and scooted closer, leaning over until your head was on his shoulder. He could smell your shampoo, the slightly floral tang of your perfume, the scent of your skin nestled below it all. 

“How about we never fight again,” you said. 

Joel could hear the smile in your voice. He laughed once. 

“Sure thing, Goldie,” he said. “We’ll never fight again.” 

“Good,” you said and he felt your cheek move as your smile grew. You held the tequila out to him. “You’re slacking off, by the way.” 

“Well shit,” he said. “Lemme catch up.” 

The two of you drank more than you should have, devolving into slurred speech and shrieking laughs before you passed out, tucked against Joel. He turned out the light and adjusted delicately until he was lying down and your head was on his chest, curled up against his side. His arm curved around your shoulders until his fingers traced over your jaw, your cheek, your hairline. 

“You’re warm,” you mumbled against him. “Best pillow…” 

He smiled and nuzzled into your hair, his lips brushing your forehead. 

“Sure am,” he whispered. 

“Glad you’re here,” you slurred, words closer to mush than anything else. “Missed you.” 

He took a deep breath and tried not to get too attached to the way your body felt on his. 

“Glad I’m here too, Goldie. Missed you, too.” 

Providence, Rhode Island

Early August, 2008 

Joel had never been on a college campus like this. 

Of course, he’d only ever been on one and UT barely counted, the campus was just part of Austin. He had no idea where to start looking for you at some place like this. 

Some asshole dude with too much gel in his hair gave Joel a look as he tossed his duffle bag on one arm and left the bus stop. His mouth got dry. He didn’t belong here, that much was fucking obvious, and everyone could fucking tell. 

He just walked for a few minutes, working his way deeper into the ivy-covered cluster of buildings. There weren’t many people around but he supposed that made sense, fall semester hadn’t started yet. He’d finally managed to get Anna to tell him where the fuck you’d gone and why. Some summer program, an invitation-only intensive for creative writing students.

“It was so weird,” Anna said when he finally convinced her to get a cup of coffee with him. “She got the invitation in like… April and talked about it with Mom and she decided she didn’t want to go. It started before school was out here - I guess college semesters are shorter or something - and she didn’t want to miss prom and graduation. And then a few days after prom she came home from school, locked herself in her room for a bit and then told mom she was leaving Friday for the program. She already had it all worked out, it was nuts…” 

You’d never mentioned it to him. Not the invitation, not deciding not to go, not changing your mind, none of it. It didn’t make any fucking sense to him. Why wouldn’t you have told him? Why would you have just left? Especially after prom… 

He finally stumbled upon someone who didn’t look like a rich asshole who pointed him in the direction of the English department, but she cautioned him after he thanked her and turned to leave. 

“There’s basically no one there at this hour,” she warned. “You might run into Professor Newton - he runs the writing program - but they usually have all left for dinner. My boyfriend’s in the program, they like to give them plenty of writing time in the evenings…” 

“Right,” Joel nodded. He hadn’t come up with a plan of anywhere to stay tonight if he couldn’t find you but he had enough money that he could get a cheap motel room for a night or two. He’d figure it out. “Thanks.” 

He jogged to where the girl had pointed him and found the sign for the English department building, some rich asshole’s name on it, and took the steps to the front door two at a time, catching it just as someone else left for the day. 

The building was quiet, just like the girl had warned him it would be and he worked his way through the labyrinth of lecture halls until he found the faculty office list. Dr. Gale Newton, professor of creative writing, third floor, office 315. 

He ran up the stairs and took a second to catch his breath before opening the doors to the hall. 

Immediately, he was met by the sound of your laugh. It hit him hard, for a moment. It had been months since he’d heard your voice, longer than he’d ever wanted to go but you were here now, so close that he could hear your happiness again. 

He followed it, a siren call, to the end of the hall, office 315. The door was cracked, just enough that he could hear you and just see inside. 

“I’m being serious!” Your laugh was still on your voice but it was quieter now. You were standing in front of the desk, your back to Joel. “You really think it’s good?” 

“Oh Doll,” a man said, coming around the desk. He stepped in front of you and reached out, cupping the back of your neck and tilting your head to bring you into alignment with him. “I think you’ve made tremendous strides since coming here. You’ve learned so much.” 

He kissed you then, pulling you against his front, his other hand going to your lower back as you moaned into his mouth. Your arms went around his neck, your body curving and arching into his touch. The man adjusted you until your legs were against his desk and he pulled back from you. 

“Gale,” you breathed, all desperate and needy. 

“Let’s see what else you’ve learned,” he said, helping you onto the desk. 

Joel felt like he was going to be sick. 

It was as though he was outside of his own body, moving without intending to. He was to the end of the hall, down the stairs and out onto the grass before he really knew what was happening. The air outside felt thick and he was having a hard time getting enough of it. His head spun. You’d taken off across the country, cut him off entirely, and found someone else. Your fucking professor. You hadn’t even talked to him, hadn’t even hesitated…

He doubled over and threw up in the bushes, all the shitty bus station food he’d eaten over the last few hours coming back. You were gone, you were really, actually gone. 

Joel wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist and walked, numb, back to the bus stop. He stood there, staring into space, when the girl he’d spoken to before came up alongside him. 

“Hey,” she smiled up at him. “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

He looked at her and, for half a second, thought about seeing if she would bring him back to her dorm, see if she’d let him make her come until she was screaming his name and he could erase the sound of you moaning another man’s name from his head. 

But she said she had a boyfriend. 

Though he supposed it didn’t really matter. It could be anyone. Just something to get that sound out of his fucking head. 

She frowned, watching him. 

“You OK? Did you find it?” 

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah, I found it.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: They were so close to actually talking it out but our good friends, youthful indiscretion and denial, are going to have them dodge that conversation a little while longer yet.

But!

They have their plan in place! Sarah's still a gem! Anna's now fully in the mix! Just have to see what happens next!

Thanks so much for being here. I'm so sorry the wait has been so long between chapters. I keep thinking life is going to slow down and then it just doesn't. I appreciate you spending your time with these characters and this story! Your kind comments truly mean the world.

❤️

[weird-arcanefangirl]

Rainy Days

TW:signs of depression, blood(described), wounds and later chapters WILL discuss suicide and self harm. If you are triggered by these themes do not read this. I will make happier stories

I do not relate to this, and this might not be accurate. My grammar and writing abilities aren’t good, please correct me or give me constructive criticism ❤️ also, this story was !!!PERFECTED!!! with AI, I wrote it myself, everything, but because I’m German and my whole family doesn’t know much English, this is one of my only options. I have the original where I wrote it into my notebook and made notes for myself and I still have it in it’s earlier stages (I already wrote much more when I was younger, my grammar was pretty bad tho) if anyone wants proof (the notebook) I’ll release it on @toulouseradiosilence <3

enjoy!

Chapter 1: Rose

I wake up to the sound of rain pouring onto the roof. The first thing I do after lying on my side for another 5 minutes is to look at the alarm clock. The time it’s displaying is barely visible, yesterday’s meal is standing in front of it. Would you call that dinner or breakfast? It was at about 4AM, so I’m not really sure, but it also does not matter, so I shove the leftover ramenbox and cheap diet lemonade off of the bedside table. The bottle shatters on the floor, startling me. Besides the cars, rain and airplanes outside this is the first noise I’ve heard today, and probably one of the ones I will hear. I finally look at the time. 10:30 AM. I’m not late to anything, I haven’t been late to anything in months.. or years. Because there is nothing to be late to. Nobody needs me, I’m not part of this “system”. And I think that’s not as bad someone would expect. I don’t have any responsibilities whatsoever. I don’t have to take part in this society, I can do whatever I want. And I choose to lay in my bed, draw or sleep. I have food in my storage (ramen, diet lemonade/ water). Sometimes I crave foods I used to eat when I was younger, but it’s certainly not worth going to the store for. Some days I eat a lot, some I don’t eat at all. Most days, actually. Some days I don’t get out of bed and some I don’t even wake up. Others I don’t sleep. Sometimes I look at drawings or other posts on tumblr. That’s all I really do. Sometimes I think about signing up and posting my drawings, but I’m not good with social stuff and this is too social for me in many ways, so I don’t. I have to go to the toilet, which is pretty unusual for me, considering i barely drink anything. I don’t want to get up though, so I continue lying in my bed for another 20 minutes, until I feel too uncomfortable. I sit up and put my feet into the ground. Something sharp cuts into one of them. I don’t do anything; I don’t even look down to see what just hurt my foot. Another minute of just sitting there and staring goes by until I decide to check. A piece of a broken diet lemonade bottle. I stand up and shove the trash under my bed, I didn’t remove the shard. I start walking. The cut stings. I really do not care though. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I push the door open and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, but I quickly look away. I sit down onto the toilet and.. pee.. yeah, I pee. Afterwards I continue sitting on the toilet and my eyes trail along the way I was walking on, from the toilet to to the door. The door is open. I live alone. There’s a trail of blood on the floor. What? Oh. It’s my blood. Wait, yeah, of course it is. Who else’s would it be? I put my leg into the other to look at my foot. The shard is still in there. I actually kind of panic because it looks really, really bad. Almost my whole foot is cut open. And THAT is a reason to stay in bed all day (as if I wouldn’t do that anyway.. but now I have an excuse, I guess.) I limp over to my bed, but before laying down I check whether I still have some water. Luckily, I do. So I let myself fall onto the bed back first, take a chug of water and start to sleep.

Next chapter will probably release next week❤️

omg I just read through it and the amount of typos I made?? Guys pls tell me if there are mistakes this is embarrassing 💀😭

Also I hate the pace, its so fast…

[writingseaslugs]

Ignihyde: When They're Sick

Broskis, do you know how hard it is to write about an advanced AI robot kid getting sick? I had to actually use my brain to figure out how it might work, but I’m proud of what I ended up with, so I guess it all ended well. Please do enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Ignihyde: When They’re Sick

Oddly enough, when your diet consists of nothing but junk food, and you stay awake all night, it’s not uncommon to become sick. Idia knows this and tries to take somewhat decent care of himself, but it’s not going to stop him from eating noodles for every meal and sleeping after the sun has long since come up. In summary…Idia often finds himself sick from his own doing. This normally wasn't a problem since he could do online classes and had Ortho taking care of him, but when his beloved little brother happened to have gotten a virus somehow and was barely functioning. This meant Idia and Ortho were left to their own devices in trying to not die from a common illness and a computer virus.

Idia Shroud

Honestly Idia simply doesn’t care when he’s sick. Oh so he can’t sit on his computer all day without wanting to pass out? That’s fine, he has a handheld console and mobile games he needs to catch up on anyway. He isn’t the best at taking care of himself, which is why Ortho is normally the one to do it. When Ortho isn’t around…Lord help this man. He will be gaming even in death; health be damned. He will ignore all signs that his body is telling him to rest and continue to stay awake too late and chug energy drinks, even if he knows it’s going to make him worse.

How you found out he was sick without Ortho being there to inform you had to be some sort of magic. Idia is reluctant to even let you into the room, but he acknowledges the fact that you simply won’t leave and will bust down the door if he doesn’t; so he allows it. He’s going to be humiliated at the fact that you need to take care of him, and will constantly be saying that he’s gross and you shouldn’t get near or else you might get sick too. Ignore him and take care of the boy, he needs it. He can be scolded for self-deprecation when he’s all better, for now just assure him that he’s not gross and if you didn’t want to help him, you wouldn’t be there.

Honestly he doesn’t really need a whole lot of medication to make him feel better, the bare minimum is required. He might complain about it the entire time, but in the end he’ll take whatever you’ve brought. He swears up and down it won’t be very helpful, but after he starts feeling better he’s singing a different tune, but silently. He at least won’t complain when you hand him some pills anymore and take it without question. He’s going to call them stamina potions though to make himself feel better, saying he needs them to get rid of the sick buff he’s dealing with.

Unless you’re going to be chilling with him in his room for the entire time he’s sick, you’ll need to raid his bedroom and take away all the energy drinks, snacks, and instant noodles. They’re gonna make him feel worse but if he’s hungry and needs a boost of energy, he’s grabbing those when you’re not around. Thankfully he’s too ill and socially awkward to leave his room while he’s dying from a cold, so he won’t go out and grab things he doesn’t need. Leave him some healthy snacks and water bottles when you leave, and when you come to feed him make sure it actually has some nutritional value. His body might not know what to do with vegetables right away, but it’ll sort itself out in due time.

He doesn’t want to talk about it when he’s better; acting like it never happened is the best way to go about it. He will thank you a few times, and if you’re a gamer expect him to be sending you new skins for your characters, or dlc to your favorite games. He won’t say it’s for helping him while he’s sick, but you’ll know. He knows as well; and Ortho especially knows since the moment he’s back to normal he’s interrogating his brother about how he miraculously got better.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho isn’t going to be getting sick in the traditional way since he’s a robot, but something like a virus could cause some serious damage. Of course it doesn’t ever really happen, but sometimes things can’t be accounted for. One wrong site with the right kind of hacker and it’s over. Virus was installed and now Ortho is all out of sorts while Idia is trying to figure out how to get rid of it. If it’s a complex one…well it might take a day or two.

Ortho is still functioning to some degree, but his battery life keeps getting sapped and he’s constantly sitting on a charger and a little mopey that he can’t do what he normally does. It’s probably why he messaged you, since he can’t exactly assist his brother either. The moment you find out you better be over there to help out the little brother. The poor dear is going through it and doesn’t even know what’s wrong. For all he knows, it could infect his memory database and destroy everything he’s learned about you. So just sit there and help him out.

Laughter is the best medicine in this situation, so as long as you’re not bothering Idia, feel free to try and make Ortho feel more comfortable. Grab your phone and watch stupid cat videos, talk about something random that’s happened in your day, and play some multiplayer games on handheld devices. He’ll instantly be feeling lighter and more like himself, even if he does have to constantly reboot throughout the entire day.

While Ortho is rebooting or recharging and is offline, you might as well help Idia in any way you can. As long as that man is functioning, Ortho can be fixed. So maybe just bring him something to eat, maybe grab some water. It’s all for Ortho in the end anyway, and Idia will thank you for helping him. You might be asked to help him figure some simple things out, or check on Ortho as well.

Once the virus is cleared from his system he is going to be so energetic and asking to go and do things with you. He doesn’t even know how to begin repaying you for this, but he promises once he figures it out, he’ll let you know. He’ll be asking Idia for advice, but the poor man doesn’t have a single clue either. It’s the thought that counts, and just seeing Ortho being peppy and energetic again is all you really need, especially when you discover that nothing is permanently damaged in his hard drive. 

[gaywattpadstorykid]

Rainy Days

TW:signs of depression, blood(described), wounds and later chapters WILL discuss suicide and self harm. If you are triggered by these themes do not read this. I will make happier stories

I do not relate to this, and this might not be accurate. My grammar and writing abilities aren’t good, please correct me or give me constructive criticism ❤️ also, this story was PERFECTED!!! With AI, I wrote it myself, everything, but because I’m German and my whole family doesn’t know much English, this is one of my only options. I have the original where I wrote it into my notebook and made notes for myself and I still have it in it’s earlier stages (I already wrote much more when I was younger, my grammar was pretty bad tho) if anyone wants proof (the notebook) I’ll release it on @toulouseradiosilence <3

enjoy!

Chapter 1: Rose

I wake up to the sound of rain pouring onto the roof. The first thing I do after lying on my side for another 5 minutes is to look at the alarm clock. The time it’s displaying is barely visible, yesterday’s meal is standing in front of it. Would you call that dinner or breakfast? It was at about 4AM, so I’m not really sure, but it also does not matter, so I shove the leftover ramenbox and cheap diet lemonade off of the bedside table. The bottle shatters on the floor, startling me. Besides the cars, rain and airplanes outside this is the first noise I’ve heard today, and probably one of the ones I will hear. I finally look at the time. 10:30 AM. I’m not late to anything, I haven’t been late to anything in months.. or years. Because there is nothing to be late to. Nobody needs me, I’m not part of this “system”. And I think that’s not as bad someone would expect. I don’t have any responsibilities whatsoever. I don’t have to take part in this society, I can do whatever I want. And I choose to lay in my bed, draw or sleep. I have food in my storage (ramen, diet lemonade/ water). Sometimes I crave foods I used to eat when I was younger, but it’s certainly not worth going to the store for. Some days I eat a lot, some I don’t eat at all. Most days, actually. Some days I don’t get out of bed and some I don’t even wake up. Others I don’t sleep. Sometimes I look at drawings or other posts on tumblr. That’s all I really do. Sometimes I think about signing up and posting my drawings, but I’m not good with social stuff and this is too social for me in many ways, so I don’t. I have to go to the toilet, which is pretty unusual for me, considering i barely drink anything. I don’t want to get up though, so I continue lying in my bed for another 20 minutes, until I feel too uncomfortable. I sit up and put my feet onto the ground. Something sharps cuts into one of them. I don’t do anything; I don’t even look down to see what just hurt my foot. Another minute of just sitting there and staring goes by until I decide to check. A piece of a broken diet lemonade bottle. I stand up and shove the trash under my bed, I didn’t remove the shard. I start walking. The cut stings. I really do not care though. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I push the door open and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, but I quickly look away. I sit down onto the toilet and.. pee.. yeah, I pee. Afterwards I continue sitting on the toilet and my eyes trail along the way I was walking on, from the toilet to to the door. The door is open. I live alone. There’s a trail of blood on the floor. What? Oh. It’s my blood. Wait, yeah, of course it is. Who else’s would it be? I put my leg into the other to look at my foot. The shard is still in there. I actually kind of panic because it looks really, really bad. Almost my whole foot is cut open. And THAT is a reason to stay in bed all day (as if I wouldn’t do that anyway.. but now I have an excuse, I guess.) I limp over to my bed, but before laying down I check whether I still have some water. Luckily, I do. So I let myself fall onto the bed back first, take a chug of water and start to sleep.

Next chapter will probably release next week❤️

[niuniente]

Hi Niu, sorry if this is stuff you've already tried or considered before, (and feel free to ignore if its not useful,) but I saw one of your posts about the struggles of trying to get your blood iron levels up when the iron supplements the doctors try to get you to take are way too strong and just make you sick, and I thought I'd send you a message because I've been dealing with very similar health problems for the last 6 years. My iron levels were so bad I couldn't eat any carbs, no fruit, no rice, no bread, no pasta, nothing with any kind of sugar in it at all because it left me in excruciating pain, because I guess iron is also something you need to digest carbs and low blood iron causes inability to digest sugars properly, (but my doctor didn't initially tell me that).

I ended up on a keto diet because protein, fat, and vegetables were the only things I could eat pain and my doctor kept suggesting really iron supplements that only made me sicker.

As a last ditch effort I decided to go back to the iron supplement I used to take as a teenager that I knew I could handle back then, which is a liquid formula meant for pregnant women and children. Its got a lot of herbs in it as well to make it easier to digest for pregnant women and kids. My doctor almost laughed me out of the office for wanting to try something so "weak" that wouldn't do anything. But I figured it couldn't hurt to at least try something.

And because it was a liquid supplement I could pour just a very little bit in the measuring cup and slowly get my body used to taking even a little bit more iron instead of being stuck with a static-dosage pill that was too much. And low and behold I slowly started to be able to handle a little bit more and a little bit more and a little bit more and now after two years of bringing my levels up very, very slowly I can eat a little bit of fruit or some beans again without pain! It took way longer than the doctor wanted it to, but using the gentler liquid iron supplement and being able to start with a very small doseage and raise it so slowly really was the thing that finally helped me start to feel better. That and finding out that taking Vitamin C at the same time you have things with iron in them helps increase the rate that iron can be absorbed by your body, (since I'm allergic to citrus fruits I was vitamin C deficient as well, so now I take a vitamin C supplement at the same time as my iron and it helps both problems).

Anyway, I don't know if there was any useful information there you didn't already know, but if you haven't tried a liquid iron supplement, (because doctor's don't take them seriously,) maybe it might be worth looking into?

The specific brand I take that was the gentlest I could find and works for me is called Floravit, Floravital, or Floradix, (depending on where you are in the world). It's made by a German company called Salus-Haus and I can buy it off the shelf in the grocery store in Canada without a prescription, so maybe its available in Finland as well?

(Fair warning, it is a liquid without many preservatives so you have to store it in the fridge after you open the bottle and it has a horrible taste, but I was so iron deficient and in so much pain that rinsing my mouth out after taking it was well worth the benefits imo).

Anyway, I hope something in here might help you, but if its all stuff you already knew/tried than I really hope you manage to find something that works for you soon. Because man, does chronic iron deficiency suck all the balls ever. Sending you some good thoughts either way!

Thank you for your message and your concern of my health! Having an iron anemia SUCKS ass. I'm currently back to keto diet, too, because my body just reacts the best to it. I've tried all possible diet you can ever imagine except for Atkin's in the past 20 years and keto works for me and keeps me the healthiest. It just requires extra supplements in my case but I'd need to take them anyway.

We have the German same liquid iron brand here but the only supplement I can use is called Sideral. It has iron in a special form and it's very gentle but my body just dislikes iron. Even that I can take only every other day 1 doze with a help of a supplement which aids iron absorption. It's... well, it's like trying to fill a leaking bath tub with a tiny mug in my case but it's better than nothing. I'm currently waiting for more messages from a doctor regarding what can we do about this.

The iron juice was my first option when I heard I need more iron and realized that I couldn't digest the supplement a doctor ordered me to have. I'm sad it didn't work.... I just can't have any iron dissolving in my stomach, that's why Sideral works for now (it's just so damn expensive Q_________Q)

Those who are concerned of iron and keto and such, I've given like 15 vials of blood for bloodtests in the past 2 months and I just went through another series of bloodtests yesterday with 11 vials of blood, - and there's a new bloodtest coming in November with at least 3 vials - so I'm being taken care off and examined seriously.

Good luck for you to beat the anemia and especially its source! I will hear in November if Sideral is working for me. I hope it does. At least I feel a bit better.

[logicsmessystudy]

Day 14 of 31 days until Dissertation Deadline

Another chore day! Welcome to the endless cycle of life!

I danced too much while doing chores today so I'm in pain, but that's my life, I guess.

Today I:

Put my washing in.

Cleared my room of trash (including the many bottles and cans of Diet Coke I accumulate as they wait for recycling day).

Washed up all my dishes so I can start afresh tomorrow.

Finished 'Book 10' of Le Morte d'Arthur and read the entire of 'Book 11'.

Caught a coelacanth in Animal Crossing. This equally as important as yesterday's golden trout but less remarkable since I did use bait.

FaceTimed my bio parent. I got to see the cats - cat time is the most important part of weekly parent FaceTimes.

So a decent amount. Which is nice to see.

See you tomorrow!

[anexperimentallife]

Alex and the Oracle

This is a humorous short I sold many, many years ago, before I even knew I was autistic, but the rights have reverted to me, so I'm in the middle of a rewrite/update in preparation for re-release as part of an "Alex And" collection. The premise (inspired by some of my own weird impulses) was, "What if things that might LOOK like random impulses or compulsions were actually a form of precognition?"

Alex and the Oracle by D. Robert Hamm

The first thing you need to know about Jimmy Cane is that no matter what anybody says about him, he’s not crazy. And I don’t say that just because he’s my best friend. Sure, he once showed up to a black-tie affair wearing lederhosen and leading a ferret on a leash, but I think that falls under "eccentric." Also, in his defense, I’m pretty sure lederhosen are considered formal wear in some parts of the world, he was wearing a black tie, and the invitation did say, “and guest.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little bit crazy, but if you had Jimmy’s ‘gift,’ you would be, too.

See, Jimmy’s a precog, but not in the traditional sense. He doesn’t actually know what’s going to happen; he just gets these compulsions that usually seem to work out in the end. That whole thing with the lederhosen and the ferret? Set off a Rube Goldberg-type chain of events that saved a guy’s life. In addition to the general agitation that comes when he tries to resist acting on his compulsions, knowing that something as small as, say, what color socks you’re wearing could be a matter of life and death for someone puts a lot of pressure on a guy.

So when I let myself in over at Jimmy’s place to find him on the floor in a bathrobe surrounded by thirty or so cases of diet soda and blowing up an inflatable kiddie pool, it wasn’t the strangest thing I’d ever caught him doing.

“Hi, Alex,” Jimmy said between breaths, “I know, I know. Don't have all the soda yet; I just couldn't wait to get the pool ready.”

Which made perfect sense, in a Jimmy kind of way. I grabbed a couple of Blue Moons from the fridge and kicked back on the couch until he finished with the pool and plopped down next to me, panting. We clinked our bottles together, and he drained about a third of his in one long drought. He sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his robe.

“Okay,” I said, “Whatcha got?”

We long ago gave up on serious predictions about the outcome of Jimmy’s compulsions, but we make a game of seeing who can come up with the most outrageous guesses. We play as a team against reality, and give ourselves points every time we out-weird what actually happens. Two-on-one odds may seem a little unfair, but reality’s been doing this a lot longer than we have, and it has the home field advantage. So far, reality is winning, and I don’t even want to talk about the point spread.

“Diet soda, kiddie pool… Gotta be a connection there,” Jimmy said. “I was thinking maybe a pile of aspartame-addicted carp showing up on my doorstep.”

“Nah, not weird enough. Make ‘em talking carp and I think we’ve got something. I got a better one, though; how about the Apocalypse is nigh, and diet soda will be the only currency of value in the aftermath?”

“Makes sense; only mutants would actually drink the stuff. But what about the pool?”

“Like you said—mutants.”

“What does a kiddie pool have to do with mutants?”

“Oh, so now I’m supposed to be an expert on genetic anomalies? Maybe it’s their religion.”

Jimmy nodded sagely and stroked the three-day growth of beard on his chin. “Hm…” he said. “Plausible. Hope you’re wrong, though; I think I’m allergic to apocalypses.”

We toasted to our brilliant predictions, and Jimmy went upstairs to get dressed so I could chauffeur him around for the day. He’s got this old VW Microbus, and while it runs great, he hates driving (everyone else hates him driving, too), plus he hadn’t really slept in a couple of days, which meant he’d be a danger to life and limb out on the road alone. (Although, knowing Jimmy, if he actually felt compelled to drive, an angel would get its wings and somebody’s dead dog would come back to life.)

I do a lot of things like that for Jimmy, but it’s not a one-sided deal. He doesn’t really benefit much personally from his gift—in fact, it often screws him over—but it does provide him with just enough resources to take care of basic needs so that he can follow his compulsions full-time with no visible means of support. That seems to include whatever I need in order to get by when I take time off whatever crappy day job I’m working at the time to give him a hand and help clean up his messes.

It’s like some kind of weird temp job where I get to go on wacky adventures with my best friend and still keep up with rent, and even though it’ll never give me financial security, and even though it’s made having any kind of decent career impossible, and even though no girlfriend I’ve found so far has been willing to put up with our little adventures for more than a few months, I challenge you to come up with a better job at any salary.

Because let me tell you, being friends with Jimmy is never boring.

After several years of this kind of thing, Jimmy was showing the strain. Over the past year, I’d seen him almost in tears a few times trying to choose between three identical boxes of cereal, and there was that time he couldn’t sleep unless he wore his shoes on the wrong feet and listened to yodeling records for three days straight. Don’t even get me started on the truckload of frozen mangoes in cold storage.

It was getting to the point where Jimmy wasn’t sure what was a ‘gift’ compulsion, and what was a random impulse, and fewer and fewer of his compulsions were bearing fruit—no mango-related pun intended—or at least none that we could see. But even if he could resist the occasional impulse, he doesn’t dare, just in case doing so might have a disastrous effect on someone else. He’d even started seeing a psychiatrist, but the only thing the doc was able to do for him was prescribe sleeping and anxiety medications.

Even with the meds, or maybe in part because of them, Jimmy was in even worse shape for driving than usual, so it was a damn good thing he’d called me. Once he was ready, I fired up his microbus, and we drove the forty minutes into Kansas City, where we spent the next few hours, stopping at grocery and convenience stores. At each stop, Jimmy pulled case after case of diet soda off the shelves with increasing degrees of agitation. When he found one that “felt right,” he was able to relax for just a few minutes before he started being drawn to the next case. A few places we had to talk them into letting Jimmy go examine the back stock. You’d think they’d refuse, or at least get a little annoyed, but Jimmy has this—I don’t know—this childlike, innocent vulnerability about him that’s hard to say no to. He lives in kind of a different world than most people do, and sort of expects everybody to be as nice and as helpful as he tries to be. It’s hard to say no to Jimmy without feeling like an asshole.

Sometime around ten o’clock that night, Jimmy guided us onto I-35 North, and we waited for the compulsion to tell us where to stop. We finally found the “right” convenience store about halfway to Des Moines, and I hit the men’s room while Jimmy perused the displays. I finished just in time to see Jimmy explode out of the store waving his arms and screaming, “No! Not that one! I need that one!”

He was charging straight at a grizzly bear in denim and plaid flannel. Okay, not an actual bear, but if a real grizzly ever met this guy it’d pee its fur, scream like a twelve-year-old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert, and run crying for its mommy. Man-bear had—you guessed it—a case of diet soda under one arm. Jimmy slammed into him at full speed, and cans flew everywhere.

Man-bear’s face went from surprise to ugly(er). He pulled back a fist the size of my head, and before I could get there Jimmy was flying backwards to land on the blacktop. Man-bear dropped the soda and took a step forward.

“Don’t hurt him,” I hollered. Okay, it was a little late for that.

“You want some, too?” Man-bear said, and I froze. I wasn’t just afraid he was going to beat me up; I was afraid he was going to eat me.

Now, I’m not the world’s bravest guy, but I do think pretty fast when the alternative is getting turned into hamburger. “No, he’s my little brother,” I lied, “I-I take care of him.” It was the best I could come up with. Hey, I said I think fast, not that I do it particularly well.

“Doin’ a pretty crappy job of it.”

“I know,” I didn’t have to fake anguish. Imminent death has that effect on me, especially when it’s mine. “ Look at him, though,” I pointed to where Jimmy was crawling around muttering to himself and gathering up the fallen cans while blood dripped from his nose to the blacktop. “You can see he’s not, y’know, quite all there in the head, can’t you? It’s not his fault.”

The trucker scowled at Jimmy, then at me. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s a little, uh... touched, you know? He gets it in his head that something—like one particular case of soda—is important, and he thinks something bad is going to happen if he doesn’t get it.” Well, that much was true.

I spread out my hands in appeal. “Look, I’ll pay for the soda. Hell, I’ll buy you ten cases.” Man-bear was silent. “C’mon, man, do you have a brother?”

Man-bear looked at Jimmy again and nodded slowly. He sniffed, then in a wilted growl said, “Keep your money. Tell him I ain’t gonna hurt him no more.”

While I stood gaping, Man-bear pulled a grocery bag from the cab of his truck, got down on all fours, and started gathering up the cans along with Jimmy. It took me probably half a minute or so to pick up my jaw enough to pitch in myself. Man-bear even got a cold pack from the cooler behind his seat for Jimmy’s face, and before he got back into his rig, shook Jimmy’s and my hands and said that while he wasn’t going to give any details, we’d changed his life.

Once Bruce’s rig was out of sight and we were back in the Microbus, Jimmy grinned at me, split lip, bloody nose, and all. “Alex, you were brill—”

And for the second time that day, Jimmy got punched in the face. Some things simply have to be done.

“Ow. What was that for?”

I glared at him, trying to ignore the fact that I felt like a total ass for hitting him. “I felt compelled, okay?” I started the car and pointed us back toward Lawrence. “I’m getting worried about you, man.”

“Yes, I could sense the concern in your loving punch.”

“Sorry about that, but are you nuts? That could have gone a lot worse than a punch in the face.”

“Two punches,” he said.

“Okay, two punches. I said I was sorry. But man, that has got to be the craziest thing you’ve ever done, and I’ve seen you do some crazy shit. Did you see the size of that guy? He’d give Mount Everest a Napoleon complex. We could have ended up in the hospital. Or jail. Or both. Hell, maybe even the morgue. Did you even stop to think we could have just politely offered to buy the soda from him instead of trying to tackle him?”

Jimmy’s face went slack. He stared at me for a few seconds, then hung his head. When he spoke, he sounded even more tired and beaten up than he looked. “I was so caught up in...” He looked back up at me. “You really do take care of me, Alex. And I don’t say thank you enough, but you never complain, and then tonight I almost got you… I’m sorry, Alex. It’s just… This is a bad one.”

I very carefully didn’t look at him. “Just think next time, okay?” I threw in some Ramones to cut short the Hallmark moment, and we cruised along to Blitzkrieg Bop.

About halfway through I Wanna Be Sedated, Jimmy turned off the music. “Hey, Alex? If we changed that guy’s life like he said, this diet soda thing is starting to play out, right?”

“Looks like. I just think it could have been handled differently.”

Jimmy shook his head. “I know, but if it’s starting to play out, my ‘gift’ or whatever should stop poking at me, or at least ease off a little, but it’s getting worse. And there are all those other cases.”

“Jimmy, I—”

“This so-called ‘gift’ pretty much runs my life, Alex, and it’s getting worse, and I can’t control it. I never wanted it to begin with. What if it gets one of us killed someday?”

I didn’t have an answer. When we got back to his place I was going to hang around to make sure he was okay, but he said he’d put me in harm’s way enough for one weekend. There wasn’t much I could do except make him promise to call me if he needed me.

#

My phone woke me a little before three a.m. the next night, which would have been fine if it were a supermodel calling to profess her undying love, but that, I decided, was an unlikely scenario, and stuck my head under the pillow to wait for the ringing to stop.

It didn’t.

“I have a hammer,” I yelled, “and I’m not afraid to use it.” Apparently the phone was unafraid of percussive maintenance. I tracked it to the pile of laundry under which it had made its rebel lair, and flipped it open. “Please state the nature of your emergency.”

“Alex! I’m glad you’re up.” Jimmy sounded like an auctioneer who’d been up all night mainlining double-espressos. “I dialed you like, nine times. Are you busy?”

“No, I was just going through the yellow pages trying to find a re-education camp for wayward cell phones. Look, it’s three AM, and you don’t sound like a buxom supermodel.”

“That has never been my aspiration. You said to call if I needed you. And I do. So I am. It’s the soda thing.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose and censored myself. I had told him to call. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I know how to make it stop. Gotta get one more case and get to this little spring in the Flint Hills. About a hundred and fifty miles. Don’t trust myself to drive that far.” He giggled and switched to a bad falsetto. “Help us, Obi Wan. You’re our only hope.”

“You can’t play the princess-in-distress card, Jimmy. First, it’s not fair, and second, you know I’m already in.” If he didn’t trust himself to drive, I sure as hell didn’t, especially when he sounded that out of it.

Half an hour later Jimmy lurched in and knocked (in that order) dressed much like “The Dude,” from The Big Liebowski, only Jimmy’s bathrobe was fuchsia. He banged his shin on the coffee table, but barely seemed to notice. His nose and lip were still swollen, and his eyes were spider-webbed with red, but he was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“You look like crap,” I said. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Can’t sleep. Gotta go. Here.” He dug into the pockets of his robe and handed me a printed-out map along with the keys to his old VW min-bus.

“Okay,” I said, “but shouldn’t you be wearing pants?”

He looked down at himself and frowned. “What’s wrong with swimming trunks?”

“Dude.”

“Okay, okay. But we gotta hurry.” Jimmy’s a little smaller than I am, but I managed to find some clothes that didn’t fit him too badly. (I let the Cthulhu slippers slide. You have to pick your battles.)

Jimmy had a bunch of those big plastic bottles—the kind that go on top of home water coolers— filled with slightly brownish water and strapped together in the kiddie pool in the back of the mini-bus. “What the—”

“No time. I’ll explain on the way.”

By the time I had the mini-bus in gear he was already asleep, slumped against the passenger door. I knew how this worked, though. As soon as I stopped heading toward our destination he’d wake up frantic. Besides, I probably wouldn’t get anything coherent out of him until he’d napped, so I bit down on my curiosity.

He woke up about halfway there. “Take the next exit,” he said. “That’s where the last case is.”

I pulled off the highway. “You wanna fill me in now? And please tell me we’re not going to get our asses handed to us by a human grizzly again?”

He laughed, bouncing up and down on his seat. “No promises on that count, but I don’t think so. As for filling you in... Wait. Turn here.” We pulled into a service station with all its lights out. Jimmy opened his door.

“Dude, they’re closed.”

“Gonna check the hours on the door and see how long we have to wait.”

The station wouldn’t open for three more hours. “All right,” I said, “That’s plenty of time to fill me in, so spill.”

“I’ll warn you, it’s going to sound crazy. I’m going to sound crazy, but hear me out, okay?”

I said I would, and he continued. “You saw how I got earlier. I had to get some sleep before I finished this thing or I was going to fall apart. Or even worse, screw it up. But I couldn’t. I even took a sleeping pill, but all it did was make me spacey. I finally gave in around one and poured the soda into the kiddie pool.”

He paused and stared out the window. “Keep going,” I said, “You poured the soda into the swimming pool, and then what happened?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I started pouring, and there was this... face.”

“What, at the window? Somebody was watching you?”

“No, in the pool. A woman’s face, there in the soda.”

Now that topped the weirdometer, even for Jimmy. “Right. You’re sleep-deprived, and like you said, you were on sleeping pills. People see things.”

“Whatever. Anyway, it freaked me out,” he said.

“Understandably.”

He got quieter. “Her lips started moving. She was saying, ‘help me.’”

“Hang on—You know it wasn’t real, right? Unless... Is your ‘gift’ giving you visuals now?”

He didn’t seem to hear me. “What could I do?” he said. “The more I poured, the more of her there was, until there was this… this beautiful woman standing in the middle of the pool. She was real, Alex. She had sort of blue-tinted skin and long green hair, and she reached out of the pool and called me her hero and kissed me, and—Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m starting the engine. And unless I hear something of the not-crazy variety come out of your mouth in the next five seconds I’m turning around.”

“Wait, Alex. Don’t freak out on me.”

“We’re way past that. Look, it’s probably just sleep deprivation combined with Ambien, but we gotta get you looked at.”

Jimmy grabbed my sleeve. Not like he was trying to pull my hand off the steering wheel, but just to emphasize his words. “Alex,” he said. “Please. I’m not crazy.”

“Maybe not, but something’s wrong. What kind of a friend would I be if I—”

“Okay, okay” he said, “Just for argument’s sake, let’s say I was hallucinating, and that it’s from not sleeping because of this compulsion. What’s the fastest way to fix that? The only way to fix it?”

I sighed. “Seeing it through.”

“So see this through with me, give me a day or two to catch up on sleep, and if you still think I’ve lost it, I’ll go to a doctor or whatever you want. I mean, come on, it’s a few hours of driving is all, and then we’re done with it, I promise. Deal?”

I rolled my eyes and climbed into the back to stretch out by the kiddie pool. “Damn it, Jimmy, there’d better be a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.”

It only took a few minutes for me to doze off. I couldn’t have been asleep for long, though, when I woke to shrill ringing. Jimmy jumped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and started the engine. We threw gravel getting back on the road.

“What the—” I looked back at the service station. The front window was broken out. “Jimmy! What did you do?”

“I couldn’t wait. She can’t hold out much longer.”

I climbed toward the front. “That’s it. You’ve lost it, man. Pull over right now. If you pay for the damages they’ll probably let you off with probation.”

Jimmy’s voice was choked and he was blinking back tears. “You don’t understand. She’s dying. There weren’t any security cameras, and I left money on the counter to pay for the window. If I drive fast we won’t get caught.”

“We? I didn’t do anything except ride along with a crazy man!” I reached for the steering wheel, but we were already going fast enough that I’d probably flip us if I grabbed it. I got out my phone. “Pull over now or I’m calling the police.”

I wasn’t really going to. As far gone as he was, he might try to outrun them, and things would only get worse.

He called my bluff. “Go ahead. If you’re still my friend, though, wait until it’s over.”

There wasn’t much of an alternative. About an hour later Jimmy turned onto a dirt road. When we got to the end of it and bounced to a stop I grabbed the keys from the ignition.

“Help me with the bottles,” Jimmy said, “The spring is just a little ways off.” He unbuckled himself and moved toward the back. I grabbed his arm, and he looked me square in the face. I have never seen him so determined. “What are you going to do, Alex? Hit me again?”

Ouch. I let go, and Jimmy’s expression softened. “I know you think I’m crazy, but I can prove I’m not.”

He started pulling stoppers out of the water bottles. “I hope she’s up to this. She’s in pretty bad shape, or I’d have tried it earlier.”

I had to clench my jaw to keep from responding. Jimmy un-stoppered the last bottle and leaned over it murmuring. “I know,” he said, “But we have to prove to my friend that you’re real before he’ll help us get you home.” He turned to me. “She wants you to know that not all of this is her. Some of it’s just regular water and soda.”

“Great,” I said, “Tell her those bottles don’t make her butt look big. Honest.”

Jimmy scowled at me, and I was about to say something more when the water moved. Trickles from each bottle snaked up and joined to form a translucent face like in, what was that movie... The Abyss or something. It—correction, she—stuck out her tongue at me before turning to Jimmy with an expression of such adoration that it broke my heart. The sun was rising, and it glinted off of her in reds and golds. Jimmy touched her lips with his fingers and she kissed them, then lost cohesion and flowed back into her bottles.

All I could do was stare.

“Well,” Jimmy said, “Am I crazy?”

Either she was real, or Jimmy’s insanity was contagious. I preferred to believe the former. I had to work my mouth a bit before anything came out. There isn’t much to say when you witness the impossible. “What are we waiting for,” I growled, “Let’s get her home.”

We used the deflated kiddie pool as a sled where we could, and carried the bottles one by one over the rough spots until we reached the spring.

Jimmy finished filling me in on the way. The woman’s name was D’lahna, and she was a naiad, a water nymph. She’d been exploring “Overhill,” as she called it, when she somehow got stuck in a soda bottling plant. She wouldn’t have lasted much longer if not for Jimmy and his gift.

We poured first the bottles, then the final case of soda, into the spring, and D’lahna rose up out of it more beautiful than you can imagine. And very, very naked. I stood staring until Jimmy punched me in the arm. “Hey. Mine.”

“Sorry.” I averted my eyes. Kind of. Hey, she might have been my best friend’s girl, but she was gorgeous. I tried not to gape at her, and searched desperately for a way to cover the awkwardness. How do you make small talk with a mythological creature?

“So, uh...” I said, “Sorry about the whole thinking you were imaginary thing. Nice place you’ve got here. Love what you’ve done with it. Seems like a quiet neighborhood.”

D’lahna laughed. If you’ve never heard a nymph’s voice, I can’t really describe it to you except to say it sort of... sparkles. “Your friend is funny,” she said to Jimmy, then looked at me. “This isn’t where I live, Alex, but it will get us there.”

It took me a moment to process that. “Us?”

I turned to Jimmy, who had just stripped naked. (Now there’s a sight I hope to never see again.) He grinned at me. “I’m going with her,” he said.

“But you... She... You can’t...”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”

They offered to take me with them, but instead I watched as Jimmy took D’lahna’s hand and waded into the middle of the spring with her. They turned translucent and flowed into the water.

It was a long drive home, and I thought about the two of them all the way.

Two weeks later I turned on the kitchen faucet, and out came an invitation to Jimmy and D’lahna’s engagement party. They’ve already set me up with a date—a wood nymph friend of D’lahna’s who, Jimmy thinks, just might break my losing streak. He mentioned a possible job offer, too.

And guess what D'lahna's family's favorite fruit is? Yeah, at least now I know what to do with all those frozen mangoes.

[fetishfairytales2]

Ask Princess (Heather)

Ask Heather: Sissy Punishments

Hey there, all you perverted ladies and losers! Looks like Sissy Brandi's suffering is becoming quite popular. Our followers keep on growing and with that, we have more questions for me to answer. Which can only mean one thing...it's time for another round of Ask Princess Heather!

Today’s question comes from one of my bad ass babe followers who wants to know how to put her boyfriend in his place.

"Princess Heather, help me out here! I've tried everything and he still thinks he's a man, even though I've got him wearing pink lacy panties and being my little cuckold. Like, he should know better, right? How can I put my little sissy in his place?"

Oh honey, there are so many fun ways to humiliate your sissy boyfriend. Does he tremble at the thought of your strong and dominant real man boyfriend? I make sure all my boyfriends get to experience Sissy Brandi. It's a great way for them to release their frustrations from their high-powered jobs. Of course, some of those guys are just so stressed out and all they really want is a good blowjob, ya know? I get such a kick out of watching my bulls use Brandi. They love making her get on her knees, pinching her nose until her mouth opens, and getting her poor sissy throat all the way down their cocks. Real men love feeling powerful over submissive little sissy bitches. I bet your boyfriends would love to remind your sissy who's the man of the house now.

Or you can put your sissy girl on a special diet -“protein only”! What kind of “real man” would let that happen to them, right? Poor Brandi is so full of random men’s cum that I call her “Sperm Bank”! I put it in her bottles, in her feeder pacifier gag, and she even has to lick my panties clean after I fuck my bulls. But of course, she knows that it’s the only way she has a chance to cum. It makes her so desperate to clean me up on my date nights. If she's really desperate, I love making her beg Connor to let her suck his dick like the little slut she is. Whenever Brandi’s ego gets too big, I like to force feed him a fresh load, it really reminds him of his place.

There’s always chastity too babes, it’s my favorite. I have Brandi in this cute pink chastity cage that she always has to wear, and guess who has the keys? That's right, me! And just to add insult to injury, I've been downsizing the cages every few months, teasing her about how I'm shrinking her dick. "Pretty soon, you'll just have a little clitty like a real girl!

Honestly, girl, it doesn't matter how you do it as long as it's humiliating. The ultimate goal is to make that tiny-dicked loser know that everything that happens to him is because of his inadequacy as a man. The more you, as a bad ass woman, can make him suffer and feel worthless, the better. Just remember girl, you are the one in control. If you want him to be a sissy, he WILL be a sissy.

[seththemusehub]

hey y'all. trans day of visibility, huh? I'm visible! and uh. I kinda need help. y'see, I basically use bottle return money for the stuff I need around the house. toilet paper, paper towels, soap of any variety, so on and so forth. sometimes I can get toilet paper and like, shampoo and body wash, from places that do food boxes. but for everything else, I'm kinda on my own. by which I mean, I bought toilet paper and pain meds with the money I got this month from bringing in cans and bottles, and I am running low on other stuff I need. stuff like dish soap and all purpose cleaner, trash bags and laundry soap, and also kind of importantly food.

I get food stamps on the third, so I don't have to worry about food after then for a while, but. yeah. I have like, a couple packs of ramen and some frozen meat that I can't eat because my dentist messed up an extraction and couldn't get the molar out, and it's the only one that makes contact with my upper teeth right now. I'm on a soft-foods-and-liquids kinda diet right now. I'd like to get some canned soups, juice, just...something soft that isn't ramen or yogurt, which I've eaten myself sick of in the last month.

my paypal, if you can spare a couple bucks: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/seththemuse my amazon wishlist of stuff I can use in the apartment, with older stuff being things I was going 'well I guess I'll use this as a 'for when I get money later' list to save': https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/1Z9JPMYCT9W21