#i want to write honestly and i should've done that from the beginning

[sundaeserenade]

if i'm being honest, i kinda think green's a little fucked up, and none of the versions i've written of him reflect that. I kinda soften his characterization because I don't want to hurt people's feelings

but some people are just fine with tellin me to hurry the fuck up, so

[yourlovermumu]

Okay… hear me out

Teacher Miguel giving extra credit to virgin student but she has to let him f her 😱

“Um mr O’Hara we shouldn’t be doing this..”

While she’s getting destroyed

“Oh and you act like you don’t love it”

OH I AM HEARING YOU OUT ALR

warning: non con, teacher-student non con, full nelson, blackmailing.

dont like it dont read it i dont wanna traumatize you.

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you have been failing your classes A LOT recently. you had terrible scores on all of the subjects, but especially spanish.

and it didnt help that your love life and everything else was a mess right now, how could you study in this situation?

but you really had to pass this time.

so what do you do? cheat of course.

problem is you werent sneaky enough and now your being called to your spanish teacher's office because he caught you cheating.

you nervously bit your lip and just stood at the door to his office, just standing there for a good while and you honestly were debating onto wither you should make a run for it or not however you decided you better meet up with him fast before you get into more trouble.

and so here you were, sitting on the soft cushions of the black couch in his office as you fidgeted with your fingers, scared to make eye contact with him because of the consequences of your actions.

and it definitely didnt help that he was silent the whole time, writing on a notebook calmly as he occasionally glanced over to the stack of papers on his desk that you assumed were test papers.

the very test that you cheated on.

perhaps he was writing reports on the test perhaps he was not but did he really need to do this right now? couldnt he have done it before or after he was done with you?

''ahem.'' rang a deep voice through out the room.

you snapped your eyes back from your lap, looking up at him startled.

'''now then, (name), would you care to explain as to why you decided to cheat on your spanish test, hm?'' he questioned with a raise of his eye brow and a nonchalant expression on his face.

you gulped.

''..uhm...i- i am sorry-! i wont do it again! i am sorry!'' you apologized desperately.

he shook his head, getting up from his seat and walking toward you. you almost backed away when he reached for your chin and lifted it up with two fingers.

''shh...'' he hushed you.

''thats not what i asked of you, now was it? i didnt want an apology. i wanted an explanation. i'll ask again...'' he paused as if to let you process his words in your dumb little head slowly.

''why did you cheat?'' he repeated.

you were silent. unsure of what to say or do. dumbly looking at him, frozen in place.

''answer me.'' he said a lot more firmly now.

and you knew if you didnt reply right now you would really regret it. so mustard up the courage to push out a few words out of your mouth, albeit coming out in stutters.

''Í had to- i am sorry- shit- i just really need to pass this time. i-i didnt- god- i shouldnt have! i really am...sorry.''

hearing your words, miguel o'hara smirked, letting go of your chin as he looked to you a smugly.

''ah, is that so? then you should've just told me so from the beginning, doll.''

his words confused you greatly. what did he mean by that? but you really didnt need any further explanation when he leaned down, placing beefy arms on both sides of your head as he leaned in to whisper in your ear in a low deep sensual voice.

''you could've just told me you were struggling...i would've helped you. all you had to do was ask, doll.'' he said as he brushed a hair strand behind your ear before cupping your face with his large hands.

''in fact i would give you extra credit and the best marks possible if only you did me a little favor...''

''...what?'' your heart was beating against your ribcage. you wanted to deny all this. no it wasnt happening right now. no this isnt true. is this going where you think it is?

but it was. it was very very real.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

''fuck-- yeah... your doing great.'' he praised. one hand placed on the crown of your head, running his hand through the silky hair and occasionally tugging and tightening his hold on your hair when you your tongue swiped against the veins on his cock or if you deep throated him suddenly without warning.

''k---keep going...'' he groaned as he couldnt help but throw his head back, gritting his teeth because of the pleasure you gave him.

you took him out of your mouth slowly, licking his long member along the way and swirling your tongue on it when you reached the tip, sucking it into your mouth afterwards as you closed your eyes.

''eyes on me, muñeca.'' he huffed, running a hand through his hair. ''keep your eyes on me when you suck my cock. look at me.''

''yes professor...'' you mumbled with his tip in your mouth, causing your words to come out muffled and sent vibrations through his dick. he let out an whimper at the feeling and quickly sinks his teeth into his plush lips to prevent it from happening again.

it felt so good inside your mouth. warm and tight. the feeling of your tongue on his cock, the feeling of being able do something so sinful with you, not to mention how pretty you look taking his dick.

it all drove him insane.

''f-fucking hell, cariño...stop teasing''

you blinked up at him at his words. watching the way his cheeks were slightly flushed and how his eyes were slightly glossy as he breathed heavily, gritting his teeth.

as much as you would like to deny it...the sight was turning you on.

you didnt give him a verbal response. instead you took him in your mouth in one go, deep throating him. he gasped audibly. his hands tightening on your hair.

you bobbed your head up and down, though tears treathened to spill from your eyes from taking him in so deep you knew better then to do this half-assedly. your grades depended on it!

his eyes become shut as he cums with a loud groan. spilling his seed into your mouth. and you finally take him out of your mouth, and just when your about to spit out his cum--

''shallow. all of it.'' he orders sternly. and you end up obeying, because what good would it do you to disobey him?

''good girl...so obedient.'' he chuckled, his breath still heavy as he recovered from his orgasm.

''but..i am gonna have to test just how obedient you can be, doll.'' he smirked wickedly before grabbing you by the arm, lifting you up and pulling you close to him.

''let me fuck that pretty pussy, doll. let my cock be inside you. i'll fuck you real good, i promise.'' he whispered sensually as he used his thumb wipe your chin before running it along your bottom lip.

''this- this wasnt what we agreed on professor...'' you mumbled, averting your eyes from him shyly.

he laughed.

''oh my sweet little princess....did you really think i would just let you go without fucking your tight little cunt? did you really think i was that nice?'' he cooed, a smug smile on his lips.

''undress. right fucking now.'' he commended. it was stern and serious, you could tell he wasnt joking around.

you hesitated. not knowing what to do. should you just make a run for it? and tell everyone what he tried to do? no that would mean they would know what you did. voices rang inside your head, making you freeze in place.

what should i do what should i do what should i do what should i--

''listen here, princess.'' he began. his voice snapping you from your train of thoughts.

''you either let me do whatever i want with you obediently or....i take you right here and now, forcefully, and you lose your mind while taking my cock''

you shivered at the threat. yet it wasnt because of fear, no.

it was a different feeling. a feeling you so desperately wanted to deny. yet the wetness coating your panties proved you wrong all the more.

''s-sir...'' you looked up at him almost pleadingly, unsure of the situation and as much as you wanted this you were gonna stick to your will. your not some submissive little lamp. theres no way your gonna give in to him this easily, right?

''you said...you'll help me if i just..sucked your cock..did you lie to me?''

he chuckled. A dark eerily chuckle that made you shudder.

''princess...me? lie to you? no sweetheat...i am no liar. your just stupid.'' he kissed your cheek in an loving manner yet the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes radiated no such loving warmth.

''your just so stupid its cute. it makes me want to just devour you. its cute how you struggle, its cute how trusting you are, its cute how naive you can be, its cute how you squirm when your scared, everything about you..top to bottom, everything is just so adorable.''

he kept going on and on as you struggled, squirming like an desperate little prey.

''but you promised-! you cant just- professor...you really wont do this to me, will you? why would you...lie to me professor? why me?''

he smiled at your words.

''heres the thing, cariño...you shouldnt trust men.''

he caressed your cheek, a smile still gracing his lips as he spoke.

''not men like me...not men like me who are so desperately in love with you. because god how could i let go of you once i got the chance to have you like this? i just cant, mi vida.''

he leaned in, pressing his lips onto yours, slowly opening his mouth to deep the kiss and encourage you to do so as well by caressing your cheek softly.

''let me fuck you.''

''i promise...i wont hurt you. i'll be gentle.'' he spoke against your lips, kissing them desperately like he craved for every single bit of your body, mind, and soul.

turns out...you were an submissive little lamp. because what else would you be if you so willingly gave into all of this fucked up stuff?

nothing but a stupid little submissive lamp.

---- ---- ---- ----

''ugh-- please--- mmfp-!'' you moaned as your hands dug into the softness of the coach.

''please what, baby? speak.'' he chuckled as he bounded into you hard, lifting your legs with his forearms and pinning them to your shoulder.

he had you in full nelson, continuously making you bounce up and down on his dick.

''f-fuck..your so tight...'' he groaned. ''are you a virgin or something? heh...''

you whimpered out a breathy ''y-yeah..o-oh''

''hm?'' he bounced you up and down on his length effortlessly as he breathed heavily against your ear.

''what did you say, cariño?'' he questioned, not because he was teasing, but actually because he didnt catch what you said.

''i s-said-- oh m-my god...'' you stuttered. your mouth hanging open from how good he was hitting you.

''you were so opposed to letting me fuck your cute little cunt minutes ago...look at you now. your just drooling for my cock, arent you baby?''

he smiled as he re-angled your hips. making him hit a certain spot inside you, you whimper in response.

''aw...so cute. your just fucked dumb on your professor's cock, arent you?''

he laughed before lifting you up higher then usual and holding you there for a little over 1 second and then slamming you back down making air get knocked out of your lungs.

''tell me you love my cock, cariño. that you want my cock to make you feel good. that you want me and only me to fuck you like this. you dont want anyone else to touch you like this, right?''

''n-no..'' you managed to let out. ''y-your the first person t-to fuck me like this professor...i-i love your cock professor..give me more-! i want more-! m-make me cum again please..!'' you babbled on.

''yeah? nobody fucked you as good as me, baby? thats a shame. but dont worry...you dont have to think about any of those guys that you fucked around with anymore...not when you have me baby.'' he pulled your head back to pull you into a messy kiss. slipping his tongue inside your mouth as he groaned at how tightly your cunt hugged his cock.

''n-no i- i never...mhmp-! did things like this before..'' you let out an in breathy voice, huffing and panting when he pulled back from the kiss.

''...what?'' he questioned. his hands on your thighs coming to a halt. ''you never did things like this before, cariño?''

''no..'' you confirmed.

''hey hey...but that would mean..'' his eyes widened at the realization and you simply gave him an hesitant nod.

''...did i just take your virginity, angel?'' you bit your lip in response as you squirmed in his lap, your head still turned behind to look at him.

''y-yeah..'' you mumbled.

he groaned at that. and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

''your joking...no way..''

''i am no--'' you were cut off my your own moan as his grip on your thighs tightened again, as he thrusted in and out of you in an inhuman pace.

''w-wait-- slow down- nnhghh...''

he didnt listen. nor could he make sense of anything right now when his mind was going crazy by countless thoughts. he couldnt believe he was your first. and the thought made him completely lose it.

its not his fault though. you brought this upon yourself the moment you believed him when he said he'll be gentle with you.

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ALR I AM SORRY THIS TOOK LONG I GOT THIS ASK WHEN MY EXAMS WERE GOING ON

and i am sorry i kinda switched things up a bit but i still hope you like it <3

[two-white-butterflies]

who could ever leave me, darling? | c55

Description: A rough patch happens in the middle of your rising career. Will he stay, or leave like all the boys before?

Pairing: carlos sainz/singer!reader

It was always common knowledge that a starlet falls from grace the moment she releases her fourth studio-album, you assumed that you were exempted from that curse - but turns out, you were wrong.

The moment that you dropped your first single of the album - it was crickets. Nothing but silence.

"I mean, personally - it's nothing to worry about. We haven't done any significant promos yet, and this is just the first song." your agent comforted you, quickly filling the small cup with your favorite beverage. "We should've done the promo before the album," your eyebrows merged into each other, feeling the atmosphere thicken.

It was a mistake signing a record-deal with a new studio.

"Yes - the chairman extends his apologies, but we'll fix it. You'll be in the top one hundreds in no time!" she comforted with a certain smile. "Okay, okay - thank you Andrea." you embraced her, praying to Jesus that she was right.

your_name_55: 'Love You - CS' is now out. I had so much fun writing this song - it's probably my fav!

2938 comments 891,283 likes

y/nworldbrazil: LOVE FROM BRAZIL 🇧🇷

carlossainz55: te amo tanto ❤️ - your_name_55: love you too cs 💗

bandanawrites: a lyrical masterpiece 🤤

A frustrated groan escapes your mouth - half relieved that the car was beginning to drive away from the paparazzi.

"Don't listen to them, they're just paps." Andrea comforted, seeing that you were bothered with what one of the photographers said. "Well, he's somehow right." you cross your arms, feeling anxiety gnaw on your bones. It was fun being known as a celebrity - but being called irrelevant to your face? You'd never get used to it.

"We've spent so much fucking money on promo and features and merch, but the point stands - I'm not even in the top 150." you shrug, feeling the tears attempt to fall from your eyes. "Our staff predicts that the song will take flight on the second or third week, please don't lose hope." she pleaded, holding your hand.

"Fuck all," you groan - staring back at the window.

Carlos Sainz: Hello, Andrea? Everything okay, no?

Andrea Gomes: I'm really sorry for calling you here [personal phone], but (Your Name) just hasn't been herself lately. I'm worried about her.

Carlos Sainz: She hasn't said anything about this to me. Is this because of her new song? I love it!

Andrea Gomes: (sigh)

Andrea Gomes: She didn't want to hurt your performance in the GP. Wasn't even supposed to call you but she hasn't come out of her room. It might be smart to take a breather.

Carlos Sainz: Thank you for telling me. Honestly, couldn't sleep last night. I'll be there in a few hours. Bye bye!

Andrea Gomes: Bye, Carlos!

carlossainz55: A much needed break 🥂 Let's do this again!!

tagged: your_name_55

918 comments 301,394 likes

your_name_55: thank you so much carlito 💗 - carlossainz55: ❤️

your_name_55: Congratulations on P1, my beautiful boy. 💗

293 comments 822,123 likes

carlandocontent: Great job Carlos!! So proud of you.

pokpokracing16: Vamos Carlos! More to come tomorrow.

carlossainz55: ❤️

your_name_55: Carlos to the premiere of 'ROSES' MV (held in our humble madrid home.)

182 comments 1,283,129 likes

y/nworld: why is this the only promo for roses 😭

Charles_Leclerc: Magnificent! - your_name_55: mr. eats-popcorn

LandoNorris: My favorite part was when the roses died - your_name_55: dark 😭

your_name_55: Thank you so much to the academy! also to @carlossainz55 and the entire f1 grid (the first people to listen to 'roses'.) I never could've done this without your support. #AlbumOfTheYear #RosesforY/N

0 comments 2,391,298 likes

comments have been restricted.

[cafeinthemoon]

It's a Fire - Chapter II

Chapter 2

Wordcount 4,4k

Title The Porch and the Table

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Previous chapter

1

Symbols ⭕➕🖤

Warnings: mentions of grieving and parent loss; alcohol consumption

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So this chapter is a bit longer than the first, but I think I should've stopped worrying about this by now hahaha I need to concentrate on what happens in each chapter and how the events move the story forward.

In this one's case, I've cut off rhe details of her arrival at Rengoku house and jumped to the beginning of her adaptation there, which includes her interactions with the staff and, specially, with her stepson, Senjuro. Of all the elements I want to explore in this ff, their relationship is one of my favorite things, so expect a strong bond to be created between them 🥺💜

About Shinjuro's appearances: I'm trying to bring a sort of growing tension each time he's around instead of just making his unpleasant traits too evident right from the start, bc I want reader to figure out the problems in her new house little by little, then trying to deal with them and make herself as comfortable as possible until she snaps and decides otherwise (spoilers haha)

I already know how I want this story to end though I just started writing it, and I believe I'll too much fun unveiling the light and and darkness in each of these characters.

Hope you enjoy this exploration mission with me 🖤

The servant sent by your father was walking in and out your new room at that moment, to bring your belongings to it. Since he was the only person who came with you, you offered to work with him, but the man declined, stating that there weren’t many things to carry and that he would soon be done.

— You made a good work packing your things even in such a small time, y/n-sama — he commented with gentleness — It made things easy.

You laughed.

— Well, I’ve tried my best. But if you’re okay with this, I’ll leave you alone. Thank you for everything.

You entered the room and, out of his sight, checked the spot where you left your sword, a place where it’d be difficult for someone to take it from; you sighed in relief with the vision of the weapon, and left to take a walk outside. There was a few spaces where you were given permission to wander – all of them separated from the parts of the house where the deceased members of your husband’s family used to stay – so, not having much to do right now (and, honestly, not knowing what to do), you were going to use the walk as an excuse to deliberate.

The wedding happened in the morning, but now it was almost midday. Your mood was no better than earlier, but you already sensed part of you accepting your new reality. You didn’t know if it was good or not, and didn’t want to figure it now, preferring to leave your mind free to think about how to act towards the circumstances.

The Rengoku House was as large and solemn as a samurai’s residence, with a wooden, rectangular structure to mark its entry, followed by a short path that led to the front doors. The building itself was raised under the traditional architecture, with two wide wings on each side and a porch to surround its premises. On the outside it was surrounded by trees, bushes and flowers; besides, the maid who led you to your room talked about the existence of a garden, but didn’t let it clear if you could visit it or not. Whatever the case, you thought it was a beautiful and silent compound you had there, despite the sensation of sadness that lingered in each spot you’ve passed by. Another thing you observed was the low number of servants, considering the house’s size, a suggestion that the Rengoku were facing problems that were similar to the ones in your father’s house – that was the only reason you could find for them to accept the good dowry that was offered alongside your hand. It was unnerving, you thought, unable to shake the feeling that you came to live there at the worst moment possible.

You then started to consider your new life as a married woman, and came to the conclusion that you weren’t getting such life at all. As soon as you arrived, you were informed that you wouldn’t share a room with your husband: yours would be in the same corridor as his, but in opposite sides; apparently, he was a man who cherished his privacy enough to organize things in a way that many would consider uncommon, to say the least. This idea seemed correct when you were led to meet your room, because as soon as you entered the house, Shinjuro ordered a maid to take care of you and walked to the other direction, disappearing from your sight, and until that moment you haven’t heard of him. Now that you remembered this, the prudent part of you was relieved that you weren’t going to share your personal space with an individual you just met, but another one, prideful, was a little outraged by the fact that you were dismissed right in your first day as a wife. Were you that uninteresting?

As you walked to an open area, your thoughts changed to lighter directions. You were content to see that the few servants you’ve met were kind enough to give you clear instructions and answer your questions concerning locations, meals and general rules, even though you couldn’t shake the sensation that they were a bit skittish, specially when they thought Shinjuro was near, but since he hasn’t appear to cause any problems you tried not to think of it. You were also relieved to observe that they did their best to keep the house clean and organized, which included your room: though you weren’t at ease with your situation, it was good to have a positive thing to point out in it.

You were thinking about this very thing when you looked around and realized your feet led you to the house’s entry again. You looked ahead and saw you weren’t alone there: a boy, not older than fourteen, was using a broom to clean the area; he worked slowly, perhaps taking care not to raise much dust, and you noticed his concentration from your spot, meters away. But what really caught your attention was the fact that he wasn’t dressed as a servant… and, well, he could never be, for he was the living reflection of the house’s head.

You remembered your mother told you that Shinjuro had two sons, but she didn’t tell you much more; maybe she never met this one. But the same silence coming from his own father was incomprehensible.

He didn’t tell me anything about this boy. Not even his name. What the hell…?

Your throat tightened when you wondered what kind of environment this kid must have been inserted.

Before your imagination could go any further, the boy saw you and stopped working. You approached him and one look at his face made you realize that the concentration you first observed wasn’t but sadness. You also noticed that his resemblance with Shinjuro was limited to his physical looks: apart from the thick eyebrows and the flaming hair, he carried a much kinder expression, with a freshness you doubted his father has ever owned, even in his youth days.

You decided not to bother him by asking about his moods, instead opting for a gentle approach.

— Hello — you smiled; and, looking around, — It seems a lot of work for one to do by themselves.

The boy showed you a hesitant smile, and his tone matched it when he replied to you.

— I know, but I don’t mind. It’s a good way to pass the time.

A moment of silence, and you noticed he wanted to continue the conversation, but struggled to find the words.

— It looks like you want to ask me something — you encouraged him.

— Yes, I do — a note of relief was sensed in his voice, as if you just did him a favor — I just don’t know how to ask this without bothering you. So… are you my father’s new wife?

The tight in your throat returned, but you forced a smile on your lips.

This is enough embarrassing for me. It doesn’t need to be like this to him as well.

— Yes, I am. My name is y/n. My family is from the (…) land. And you must be Rengoku-sama’s younger son.

— Yes. I’m Senjuro.

— That’s a good name, Senjuro-san — and, trying to imprint a comforting note in your voice, — And don’t worry, you could never bother me simply by asking this. I’m really content to meet you. You know, it’s relieving to talk casually to someone for the first time in days. It’s been a busy week, this one.

Now, Senjuro seemed to be more at ease. Maybe his days have been busy in their own way, and speaking with a new acquaintance was a welcoming change in the routine.

— I can imagine that – he commented – By the way, do you need help with something, y/n-sama?

You suddenly waved your hands in a gesture of refusal.

— Oh, no please, don’t call me like that! Y/n will do — you laughed — And, thank you, but I’ve already organized most of the things in my room. The rest will find their place with time — you sighed — For now, I just want to breathe fresh air. Fortunately, it’s a beautiful day we have now.

Senjuro observed the sky, the vivid blue spotted with big, white clouds, and agreed. You imitated him and looked at the weather with a smile.

— It's almost midday… – and, turning to him, – You know, when I was at my parents’ home, we used to eat our lunch on the porch on sunny days. Is there any problem in doing this here? What does your father think of it?

The boy shrugged.

— He doesn’t care at all. But he hates to see leftovers on the porch.

— It’s understandable — you giggled — So, how about we have lunch together on the porch? I’m still a bit lost here, so eating at the table won’t make me feel at will, but I’d still like to have company.

— It’s okay for me — he smiled.

You were afraid that Senjuro was going to see your approach as invasive, so it was with relief you heard him accepting your invitation.

— Right! I’ll ask the maid to bring our food to my room’s porch, then.

He frowned.

— Where is exactly your room? I thought you were going to, you know, stay with my father.

Your heart skipped a beat at that question, but you didn’t let out your discomfort.

– Your father decided that I’m getting a room of my own. Don’t ask me why! – you shrugged, a low laugh escaping your mouth.

You then explained the location to him, and he replied he would go there in a few minutes.

***

Lunch time was quiet and pleasing.

You found the maid who showed your room and asked her to bring food for two to your chambers. When you explained your plans to her, at first you though she was going to argue, maybe considering the possibility of having Shinjuro scolding her for allowing his wife to make a mess right in her first day at the new house, but she just agreed and asked you to wait until she brought the bowls for you and Senjuro.

After the meal itself, you’ve spent some time sitting on the porch and talking. At the same time you spoke to him about yourself, you’ve found out interesting things about your new family from your stepson.

– So… How did you and my father meet, y/n? – was his first, natural question.

– The story is a bit long, but if you have patience I can tell you – you smiled – My parents use to know your family, or so I was told. My mother was a member of the Demon Slayer Corps. She was a (…) Rank, and came in contact with your father during work. She never explained in details how missions work in the Corps, but apparently she was given a task that proved to be more difficult than it seemed at first, so she and her group were supported by Rengoku-sama. They’ve became acquaintances since then – you took the cup of juice from the tray where your bowls were brought – She met your elder brother once, when he was just a child.

You saw a glow of excitement appearing in the boy’s reddish eyes.

– She did?

– Yes! – you laughed – And she always spoke good things about your family – your smile faded a bit with the next sentence – It was like this until she passed away.

– I’m sorry for this – he replied – You know, my mother passed away when I was little. I can barely remember her.

You put a hand on his shoulder.

– It’s difficult without them. I know.

He nodded in agreement.

Talking about your mother, even though it required remembering her absence, was the easy part of the narrative, and your heart was calm while telling it. What would come after it, however, was a different story. Still, verbalizing those events to an attentive listener like Senjuro did you some good, for you managed to leave the bitterness out of your tone.

– Unlike my mother, my father never revealed to be familiar with yours until days ago, when he told me he contacted Rengoku-sama to ask for help.

– Help? How so?

– There has been little to no protection against Oni in our lands since my mother’s death, so the people who lived in the villages around have been suffering – you explained – Things became difficult even in our house, and half of our servants were fired or decided to leave. My father thought it was a good idea to contact yours and offer my hand in marriage in exchange for his protection, and somehow your father said yes – you put the cup back on the tray, lying your hands on your lap and trying not to show the trembling in them – I didn’t know about the offer until the week when the wedding should take place, and your father and I have never met before the ceremony’s day.

That part of the story seemed intriguing to Senjuro as well. Maybe he didn’t think his father was the type of person who’d accept a contract with such terms, or he was simply caught in surprise by being informed about the wedding with a few days in antecedence just like you. Whatever the case, both of you could easily agree that this situation was embarrassing, to say the least.

– That’s why I was a bit afraid earlier, you understand? – you shrugged – It’s been probably years since the last time my father saw yours, and without my mother to support us, I had no idea what I was going to find once I arrived at your house – you giggled – So, thank you for accepting my invitation and eating with me.

Senjuro imitated your gesture and left his own up on the tray, between the bowls.

– That’s okay, y/n. I've actually had my meals alone for a long time, so it was good to have company today – he replied with gentleness – I really liked to meet you.

You were intrigued with the revelation of him eating alone in his own house, but you wouldn’t question him right now. Instead, you replied that you liked meeting him as well.

The boy stood up and nodded, thanking you for the meal. But, before leaving, he turned one more time, as if he forgot to tell you something.

– You know, when I found out my father was going to marry again, I was really afraid.

You frowned.

– Afraid? Why?

He hesitated.

– Well, I… thought he was trying to replace my mother with someone else, but I’m relieved to see this isn’t true – and, urging a shy smile to let it clear that his words had no hostility, – You’re a good person, y/n.

You gave him a smile of comprehension. Of course, the worst fear of a young boy who lost his mother so soon in his life and then his big brother was concerning the kind of people his father would decide to bring under the same roof as him. Your father never met anyone after your mother, so you never had to worry about this, but if you were Senjuro's age, you’d feel the same way.

– No one can replace your mother, Senjuro-san. Actually, no one should try, me included. But it’s going to be good if we continue to get along.

For the first time, you saw him opening a smile with no signs of embarrassment or mistrust.

– I agree with you.

***

After Senjuro left to continue his tasks, you took the tray with the bowls to give them back to the kitchen. You were planning to come back to your room and carry on with the organization of your belongings: though you said to your stepson that the work was almost done in this sense, you knew you weren’t going to finish it that day.

You were walking through the corridor, thinking of this, when a shadow appeared: someone was blocking your way. You startled and raised your eyes to find Shinjuro standing before you. No word came from his mouth; his mere look was enough to make you step back.

– Rengoku-sama – you murmured – Can I help you?

Instead of answering your question, he lowered his eyes to the tray.

– Who ate lunch with you? Senjuro?

You promptly confirmed. The man stared at you for a moment, and it was impossible to tell if he was surprised or displeased.

You tried to justify yourself.

– I paused the organizations at my room and took a walk outside. I met Senjuro-san at the house’s entry. I invited him to eat lunch with me and he said yes.

Shinjuro seemed to accept this explanation, though no contentment was detected in his expression.

– I see. I hope he hasn’t bothered you.

– Absolutely not – you frowned, confused – I don’t see any reasons for him to bother me.

Again, he seemed to approve your reply, but that didn’t mean he was happy with what he heard, and his next words made it clear.

– It’s good that you’ve shown patience towards him. He can be too soft sometimes, even talking too much.

Talking too much? That Senjuro, who was constantly trying to measure his words when asking things to you? Were you speaking about the same boy?

Well, you couldn’t understand why your husband was saying such things about his own son, but considering that he didn’t even mind telling you his name, it didn’t seem reasonable for you to take his words into account.

– Well, I was very pleased to meet my stepson – you stated, taking a step to the side to indicate you were heading to the kitchen that moment – And, to me, he spoke enough. Not much, not less.

Maybe Shinjuro wasn’t expecting your reply, or maybe he didn’t want to carry on with that conversation just like you, but he commented that “at least you two got along” and how much discomfort you were all spared from thanks to this. He walked past you and left with no additional words, leaving you with intriguing thoughts.

***

Apart from other few times when you spoke to the maid or when you met Senjuro, you’ve spent most of that day by yourself, unpacking clothes and other objects, trying to figure out the best way to keep them together in your new room. The place itself was similar to your chambers in your parents’ house, both in place and shape, which somehow made things easy, yet the whole aspect of the room, aside the conscience of not being in the house you grew up in, wouldn’t let you feel entirely at will inside it. The color of the walls, the room’s position in the building, the texture of the floor, the smell of it… Everything screamed that you weren’t at home.

Your husband’s whereabouts were a mystery and, honestly, you weren’t missing his rigid presence and stern tone. He hasn’t said a word about his routine and habits, so that you didn’t know if he left the house at some point during the day, if he spent his hours in his own room, an office or anywhere else or if you should expect to see him again before the next day; being left in the dark was unnerving, of course, but not getting much useful information from the few contact you had with that man, you’d rather not to seek for him.

Shinjuro himself was a mystery to you, too.

Now that you had time to think about this, you found yourself trying to understand his real reasons to accept this marriage. Sure, your dowry was very encouraging, but one day that money would end and you would still be there, and then what? Would he kick you out of his house and replace you for a richer girl? It was too soon to tell if he was capable of such thing, but the money excuse still sounded superficial to you: accepting someone you’ve never seen before in your house just to receive a financial benefit? It didn’t make much sense. Or did he want someone to look out for Senjuro? Well, you already let it clear to the boy that you weren’t there to replace his mother, and nothing about parenting was said in the contract. Besides, Senjuro was no longer a child; the type of education he needed was beyond the one you could ever give to him: you were a well educated woman, but your education was still a female one, so that apart some lessons in Literature and sword movements you were sure he already knew, there weren’t much you could teach him; it was better to hire a tutor or invite a relative.

You were holding a pile of folded clothes at that moment. You put it on an open drawer, sat on the floor and sighed. There you had a mission you didn’t ask for.

Wasn’t it enough to make me move to this place? Do I really need to try and unveil what goes on in this man’s head? As if he would let me...

You decided to take some rest both from your task and those annoying deliberations.

***

It was only in the next morning that you heard of him again.

That time, you decided you were going to have breakfast at the table, so you woke up early, washed your face and prepared yourself.

When you arrived at the kitchen, Senjuro was already there, filling his bowl in silence. He raised his eyes when you approached and knelt in the spot in front of his.

– Good morning, Senjuro-san – you gave him a soft smile while taking your own bowl.

– Good morning, y/n.

The meal had all the reasons to be calm and quiet, and you were glad for it. You haven’t had a good night of sleep, so the last thing you needed was tension right in the morning…

But the sudden shift in the air and the change in Senjuro’s posture let you knew you weren’t going to get what you wished: you turned your head to the entry and saw Shinjuro passing through it and walking to the head of the table without a word or a look to his son or to you. He sat and just started filling his bowl, something that wouldn’t mean anything if it wasn’t for the fact that he landed a large, already opened bottle of sake on the table.

You swallowed.

Drinking at this hour? Seriously?

You glanced at Senjuro, and the boy, as if knowing better, immediately turned his attention back to his food. You tried to do the same, but Shinjuro had another surprise, this second one directed related to you.

You saw his hand pushing a paper toward you over the table. You left the hashi aside and took the paper; it was a letter.

– A letter? To me?

– It’s from your father – was the reply – He told me he would be writing to you right after you moved to my house.

You stared at the folded paper for a while, without giving him a verbal response. When you heard that it was written by your father, your curiosity somehow died inside you, and any wish to read what was in there disappeared. You left the letter on the table and grabbed your hashi again.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by your husband.

– Won’t you open it?

You raised your eyes to him, not hiding the tiredness of the last days.

– No. I won’t.

Shinjuro naturally thought you were saying you were going to read it later, and the same could be said about Senjuro. So it wasn’t without confusion that they observed you giving up on the food for the second time, taking the letter and standing up.

There was an oven on the other side of the kitchen, which fire has been fed with coal. You calmly headed to it and, not thinking of how what you were doing was going to be seen by the presents, you tossed the letter in the flames.

You went back to your spot and found father and son staring at you in disbelief, each one for different reasons. Senjuro was probably shocked to see someone dismissing the words of a parent with no hesitation; you were actually content with that, for it was a sign that he has been taught good family principles. Shinjuro, on the other hand, had nothing but indignation with what he just saw: what kind of daughter treats her own father like this? Well, if only he had a father who treated him like yours, maybe he could understand.

They were waiting for a verbal explanation, of course, and you gave it to them.

– Senjuro-san, I’m sorry that you had to see this, but I won’t apologize for what I did. I just cannot – you said to the boy; and, turning to his father with a much lower tone, – Thank you for giving the letter to me, Rengoku-sama, but I ask you to do the same thing I did if more come. I don’t want to read them.

You saw the twist on his lips and knew exactly what he was thinking. Brat. Stubborn, ungrateful girl and many other unpleasing ways to describe a young woman who didn’t act as expected might have come to his mind that time, as well as the idea of a long, difficult path he was going to follow in his life beside you. You certainly didn’t want things to be this hard between you, and an ache in your heart reminded you of this, but this has already started in the least favorable circumstances; what should be expected, then?

What your husband said to you after this, however, had more to do with the practical aspect of things than with his personal opinion on ungrateful girls.

– Why didn’t you at least read it first? How could you know there wasn’t something important in it?

– There wasn’t – it was your prompt reply, not completely devoid of sadness – If my father had anything important to say, he would’ve done it before I left his house.

He frowned, a gesture that in his case would draw more attention than in any other individual, and spent a moment in silence, staring at you and measuring your words before grabbing the bottle of sake and drinking directly from it. You observed the firmness with which his hand left the bottle on the table after it, making a thump on the wood, and couldn’t help wonder that if you were a boy and he was angry, he could’ve yelled at you and even smacked you, but having you putting all your politeness in your words was enough to hold himself in place.

The rest of the meal went in uneasy silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts and you claiming to yourself the task of dissolving the connection with your father and keeping an eye on your stepson whenever your husband was around.

Chapter 3

[wild-magic-oops]

I finally finished DATV!

It takes a lot for a game to make me cry but DATV did that a few times. The writing at times is definitely lacking or cringe but ultimately I don't mind a more fluffy YA type of story, so it doesn't matter to me much. But the main story questline is filled with absolute bangers, especially Act 3. I think the majority of the main story questline was the first thing that got done, so it's the most polished. Then some side quests that pack a punch and some of the companions quests (or at least parts of them). Then the rest, so it shows.

But back to Act 3 - fantastic, especially playing as a Shadow Dragon. DA2 tried really hard to make Hawke care about Kirkwall but ultimately it failed to make me care about it or give me a reason for my Hawke to do so. DATV actually made me care about saving Minrathous. My Rook did it once and then it got blighted anyway at the end, which adds to his frustration and helplessness that's been building during the story.

There were so many moments that I wasn't sure whether everyone possible would make it and I absolutely loved the suspense. At the end everyone except Harding survived so I'm pleased with my results. What I really liked is that the exploration, building relationships with factions and companions, actually plays a role in the end. And it's not boiled down to some extra spells I can use in the final encounter (I'm looking directly at you BG3). Companions and factions are actually woven into the final battle and I love that.

Now about Solas - he was one of the reasons I bought the game. I was really curious how his story would go and I have to say I'm very satisfied in that regard. His interactions with Rook were always intriguing to me, and they're delicious in Act 3.

I expected the ending slides to be a disappointment bc that's something that would be probably done at the very end anyway, so no surprises there. I definitely wish there was more. But tbh, the fact that the game came out at all, with no microtransactions, no day 1 paid dlcs that hide important lore, no major bugs (and barely any for me at least), fun gameplay, amazing qol stuff - it's a surprise. And I feel like people who are very disappointed are so bc they went into it with high expectations, which they should've tempered given what was known about the development hell the game went through and about EA. Despite its flaws, the game offers much to fans to enjoy if they actually want to do that and are not obsessed over what it could've or should've been. And that's only taking into consideration the valid criticism. This is the place to say I actually don't care that the game was a soft reboot and ignored previous choices. Ofc it would've been great if it wasn't like that, but I honestly didn't expect much bc bioware always pushed their own canon and mostly ignored other choices or retconned how your previous character felt about certain things. And not to mention how the Divine choice would've been an absolute hell to implement to begin with, unless they once again made certain choices not matter, which would've been worse imo.

I love Mass Effect much more than Dragon Age. And DATV felt like a fantasy ME game, so I liked it for what it is. I honestly don't miss the "but what if oppression is actually excusable and a valid choice ehehe" type of bs from the previous games, I don't miss the South, and I don't miss slurs and xenophobic remarks thrown in my or companions' faces every second conversation bc the game doesn't trust me to really get that smth is wrong without overdoing it and feeding me like a baby. Yes, Veilguard doesn't stress those topics enough, but that's mostly bc it focuses on bigger problems. But they're still there, often in the main questline. And I want to point out that I do in fact love intriguing political knots set in fantasy lands. But in my book DA has not been great at this, so I don't care that they did away with that and focused on an epic save-the-world story instead for this particular game (which fans should've known was the path bc Tresspasser basically tells you that).

Time for a replay now ofc

[missuswalker]

notes || craig tucker x fem reader

✮ summary: craig tucker hated you with a passion. (at least that's what you thought) when he starts passing you notes, you start to kinda, maybe not hate him so much. (pt two here)

✮ warnings: none i guess, too many uses of the words 'folded' and 'unfolded'

requested, but i didn't think about just writing this with the reply 😻

"Girl, you have no idea how stupid he looked," Bebe snorts. She was currently ten minutes in to another rant about her new boyfriend, who to me, honestly didn't seem so bad. "He tries way too hard," I respond, just to support my friend. Girls supporting girls, I guess.

I glance to the front of the classroom, Mrs. Garrison in a heated argument with another student about something political, though it didn't come as much of a surprise to see this scene playing out again. I don't pay much mind, beginning to draw random shapes and lines in the corner of my homework, which should've been done three days ago, but I'd get there.

I feel something hit the back of my head, turning around quickly to see Craig Tucker with a smug look on his stupid face. Oh, how I hated Craig Tucker. I hated his dumb voice, and his stoic expression. I hated his hat and his barely-Walmart-worthy t-shirts. I especially hated how he went out of his way to agitate me. I roll my eyes, looking to the floor to find a crumpled up paper ball. I snatch it up, tossing it back, earning the middle finger from the boy in the blue hat.

"Open it, dumbass," he hisses, leaning forward to push the paper back into my hand. I let out an annoyed huff, turning back around in my seat, placing the crumpled up paper in the corner of my desk. "Dumb bitch," I mumble to myself, going back to doodling.

I feel my seat jerk forward a bit, thanks to Craig kicking the leg of my chair. Jesus Christ, give me a break. Without looking back at him, since I already knew what he wanted, I take the paper, beginning to unfold it, doing my best not to tear the already crumpled note. I read over it for a moment, sighing. All the note said was, "hey." I narrow my eyes in confusion, before scribbling out a response, that may or may not have been "shut the fuck up."

Folding it neatly and tossing it back, I notice Craig had taken that stupid hat off for once. Well, damn. It's not like it changed his appearance in any way, and definitely didn't mean I was suddenly attracted to him, but maybe I was. His dark, messy hair fell over his forehead as he picked up the note, unfolding it, and scoffing. I blamed my staring on wanting to see his reaction before turning to face Bebe, who gave me a questioning look.

"You can't be serious," She whispers, looking between Craig and I. I deadpan at what she was insinuating, giving her a 'what the fuck' sort of look. "What, are you guys planning your next hookup or something?" Bebe adds, an amused look on her face as she watches Craig write on the same paper. "You're disgusting." I answer, glancing back up to the front.

"Y/n." I turn around, seeing Craig holding out the paper, which was once again crumpled up. I take it from his hand, turning back to open it, my curiosity getting the better of me. I raise an eyebrow at the note he'd written back, his handwriting surprisingly legible. Kinda. "fuck you, i was going to give you a compliment," the note read. Yeah, good shit. Like I believe that. I simply write an "ok," dropping it back on his desk unfolded.

Once again, I wait for his reaction. Well... kinda. I spent more time looking at his hands, which held the paper up, and his jawline, and his pretty eyes. What the fuck... I turn back around, deciding I spent enough time looking at Craig. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

Every once in a while, (more like, at least, once a day) I would catch myself admiring him a little bit. I didn't like him or anything, it's just easy to look at an attractive person. Not that he was attractive.

The paper ends up falling over my shoulder and into my lap, drawing a sigh out of me. Could this kid just talk like a normal person? I unfold it for the millionth time, though I couldn't help but stop and pause for a moment.

"you look really pretty in that color"

Did he really just say I looked pretty? This had to be a way of him getting on my nerves again, right? I stared at the paper blankly, before picking up my pen and writing back a, "what?"

It was only a few moments after I handed it back, to get it tossed over my shoulder again. I was almost excited to see his response, before remembering that it was Craig Tucker, the boy who I've 'hated' for, like, years. This time it was only folded over once. I read it, suddenly feeling a shift in my body temperature. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I was blushing over this. Craig Tucker is not someone who I would've thought I'd be blushing over.

"i heard kenny was going to ask you out and i wanted to get to you before he did"

That's all the note said. I couldn't tell if he was joking or if it was meant to annoy me. I turn back to give him a look, but he was already turned away, his chin resting in his hand as he stared out of the window. His eyes glance to me, but quickly dart away. What the fuck?

I write back, "are you serious," dropping on his desk, and turning around again. I could hear Bebe snickering to my left, but I ignored her, hundreds of thoughts going through my head. No way in hell Craig was flirting with me. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, which really made me want to turn around, but I stayed put until the infamous piece of paper landed in my lap again.

"i'm serious. sorry for being such a dick. i kinda think you're okay and i wanna take you out"

What. The. Fuck.

I wanted to say no. I should've said no. I couldn't. I said yes. I let that bastard win. Looking back as I waited for his reaction, I did my best to hide my smile as he grinned down at the paper.

[vee-beeee]

Crappy Mornings

Okay soooo

I had so much fun writing the other fic that I wanted to do it again LOL

So the premise is you're late and have had the WORST morning, and Nines and Conner are worried. Also you knit.

again SORRY if this has been done before

Let the games begin

Warning: Fluff with a CAPITOL F, misunderstandings kinda, shorter than the last one, slice of life I think, very sweet or cringe take that as you will

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were running late

again.

This seemed to be a theme in your life.

You were supposed to be at the station at 7 am, and it was currently 7:55 am. This wouldn't have been to much of a big deal, if your work partner was anyone else.

Unfortunately, your work partner was your adoring and sometimes overbearing boyfriend Nines.

And your other boyfriend was an overly-anxious, very caring Conner.

So today, you accidently upset 2 punctual androids.

But you had a good reasons to be late!

First, your alarm went off 10 minutes late for absolutely no reason.

Second, your hot water heater was acting up again so you had to take the coldest shower of your life.

And third, probably the worst, you totally accidently dropped your phone in your sink...That was filled with water after you had washed dishes the previous night and forgot to un-plug the sink to drain it. So this meant you had no way to contact Conner or Nines to let them know you were running late.

Awesome.

To top it off, your knitting supplies was totally eluding you. It just disappeared. And you may have looked for it for 8 minutes. But eventually you found it, now you were even more behind.

You hadn't even left home yet.

Walking out of your apartment, you almost got tripped up by a group of bikers. 5 looong minutes of standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot while hearing a bunch of "excuse mes" and "coming throughs".

Then, the good people at your favorite coffee place had also misread your order. It honestly wouldn't have been a big deal but they insisted they fix it for you. Another 6 minutes.

(And you maybe stopped to pet a huge fluffy husky and that may have taken longer than it should've.)

Finally, FINALLY you made it to the station. But you were terrified to face the wrath of anger, from your anxious androids.

Lo and behold, loitering around your desk, immediately spotting you when you entered the office, was 2 very annoyed androids. Well, one was pissed and one had worry written all over his features. Which is worse in your opinion.

"Where have you been" Nines sharply asks, giving you a hard stare while taking in your form, most likely scanning you. His LED a steady yellow with flashes of red, conveying his worry without him realizing. Or he was just REALLY mad.

"You haven't been answering your phone, and we have been worried for your well being" was Conner's response to you being late, his LED also yellow and red. He was giving you the puppy dog eyes that ate at your soul. You held your hands up, guilt written all over you as you rushed to explain your horrible no good morning.

"Guys I'm so sorry, my alarm didn't go off, my phone died, there was an incident with some bikers, and the coffee place got my order wrong and they wanted to fix it, there was this Husky.." and as you continued to ramble about your unfortunate morning, Nines and Conner just stare at you waiting patiently until you were finished. What you didn't notice was there blinking LED's, and an unheard secret conversation.

"Your tone was to harsh, she is clearly having a hard time today." said a sympathetic voice in Nines head.

"Whatever. She scared us, didn't respond to our messages, and she was late. We have important work to do and she cant spend her time letting a missed alarm get to her."

Conner gave Nines a glare after that comment and followed it up with a statement thats outcome would unknowingly make you feel worse

"Your being kind of an ass right now Nines"

Nines scoffed, which accidently caught your attention. If you weren't red before, you sure were now. You knew that they would be pissed at you being late, and his scoff hit somewhere inside you that made you shrivel a little into yourself, even if you didn't know at the time that it wasn't meant for you.

And Nines had his pissed off look activated, and was avoiding your gaze.

You went quiet, not knowing what to say to fix this, which Conner immediately noticed. Cutting off his inner conversation with Nines, he did another scan on you. Your face was flush, and you showed signs of embarrassment. Brief but distinct increase in heart rate, flushed, fidgeting, and you had now started averting your gaze. Without all the scans, and by just looking at you, he could tell you were tired. So he did the most logical thing his programming could come up with to soothe you.

He hugged you.

You immediately softened. The hug was warm and filled with love, you could feel his soft breathes and his synthetic hair ticking your neck. You were guessing Conner had now forgiven you. You let out a sigh and sank deeper into the hug, enjoying it after your rough morning.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye Conner's LED blinking yellow.

You then looked over his shoulder at Nines, who looked like a big baby at the moment. His LED was also blinking, and he was drilling holes into the back of Conner's head with how intently he was staring at him. You took one hand from Conner's back and waved it a little. This caught the RK900's attention, and he looked at you, LED still flashing. And all you did was smile with all your heart at him.

And he instantly softened, and returned it.

And then you took your other hand and did finger guns at him while making a stupid-ass face. You had to make a joke out of a slightly depressing situation.

And then he hardened at you, trying to look angry, but he was totally shaking and you could see him restraining his laughter.

Conner released you, giving you one last look before turning to gaze at Nines. You saw them glaring again and decided to stop it. So you took Nines hand in yours, and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. He eased up again and Conner did too.

"Well wasn't that just the cutest shit I've ever seen" you heard someone grumble from across the bullpen. You laughed and Nines bristled, while Conner went blue, returning to Hank.

Eventually you got to work, but you smiled while doing it. Your morning turned out to be better than expected.

Wait, you totally forgot you need a new phone. Dang.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THANK YOU FOR READING

sorry for any spelling errorss

I have found that I like writing lol

Sorry its shorter, but i hope its not to cringeee!

okay bye

[semi-sketchy]

That...was it?

I mean, yeah, I probably should've expected it to end in a "adventure continues in SXSG" but that was very abrupt.

GUN, Rouge and Omega know there's something big coming, but just fuck off after this? There's no glimpse of what awaits Shadow? No real cliffhanger, it just stops? This wasn't satisfying.

It started with "Black Doom might be back I have to get to the ARK" and ended with "Black Doom might be back I'm on my way to the ARK." I stopped to look at the timer near the end because I was like "wait it's just gonna end here? We watched a travel animation?"

Maybe this is because I haven't been following SXSG super closely, but I don't understand how Shadow's campaign is going to start so I have no context for how this leads into the game. That's probably partly why it feels so abrupt right now.

I liked the music and action scenes, though I thought some lines should've been cut.

Like this is pretty obvious, but it keeps going.

The scene would've been better had this line been cut. Same thing happens in part 2.

Sometimes, silence speaks volumes. But of course, everything needs to be "spelled out" though that's an issue with the Maria scenes in general.

Man this shot of Shadow though with that music swelling, holy cow.

Hits you in the feels.

Overall though, it was okay!

My biggest compliment really goes to the sound design. I just love how the music and sound effects come together. Also really enjoy how snappy the animation is. By part 3 I definitely was able to tell I was looking at 3D models, but honestly I don't really care which medium it is as long as it's done well. This looked good!

Writing wise, I think part 1 was the worst and that's due to the stiff, on-the-nose interactions between Shadow and Maria (plus the slip-in of "low-gravity remission"). I definitely preferred the action scenes and interactions with Rouge, sadly Omega was just kinda there in the corner like "I CALL DIBS" and didn't contribute anything noteworthy.

I said this about Xenoblade 3 and it rings true here: this felt like watching a draft rather than a finished script. Some parts are cooked and others are raw. If Omega had nothing to do but blow a few things up in the background, why was he here? Even Shadow was the one to take down the GUN ship Omega originally engaged. Give him a bigger purpose or cut him.

The Maria scenes play out the most like a draft, something you'd write to get the basics of what you want the characters to convey before going back over and replacing those lines with actual dialogue. (This is something I do if I'm struggling.)

Now do I really care that the GUN Commander got his Archie name? No. Of all the things in this animation, Sonic Twitter picked the stupidest one to blow up about. I think the "low gravity remission" and Shadow knowing he's part alien is an actual issue. (Although I guess this could be argued since in ShTH he still had amnesia, he wouldn't remember so this wouldn't matter. Still, wasn't it supposed to be a secret? The Commander only found out by accident?)

Some things just aren't as well thought-out as others, which cements my thought that this script needed polishing.

All that said, this is the biggest promo animation project we've seen in Sonic yet and it's quite different from others before it. I don't think I'd call it "the best", I think the Frontiers one was super cool, but it also didn't have the run-time of Dark Beginnings. Like with XC3: Future Redeemed, it simply didn't have the time to screw stuff up as much.

There's good, there's ehh, so overall Dark Beginnings was just okay for me.

My biggest disappointment is still the fact that this animation simply wasn't what I wanted, which isn't its fault. I saw the teaser of Shadow and Maria on the ARK, I thought it was going to be about them on the ARK and it ended up just being about Shadow traveling to space. I wanted and was expecting something this animation was never going to be.

I guess we'll find out soon how the final game handles Shadow's story, though if this animation is anything to go off of, I'm keeping my expectations in check.

[static-scribe]

A Night To Remember | Ticci Toby Oneshot

HI! I hope you enjoy this fic! This is my first time writing for Toby and my first fic post here! I'm sorry if this feels out of character in anyway, I'm still working on how I want to portray him!

-

In times like this, you have to think to yourself, “What the fuck did I do to get here?” And the answer to that question is relatively simple; it's not what you did to get here, it's what other people did to get you here. Specifically, it's what your creepy-ass roommate did to get you both here. 

Where is here exactly though? Well to answer that lovely question, here is attempting to bury a body in the middle of the woods at 3:57 am. This was honestly not what you were expecting to be doing on your night off from work but you can’t go back now. Not when you had already killed your roommate. Oh did I forget to mention you had killed your roommate?

It wasn’t your fault at all, it really wasn’t. You couldn’t control the fact that you woke up to your roommate standing at the foot of your bed watching you sleep, knife in hand. Blame it on the tiredness but you just couldn’t control yourself when you saw that, and you admittedly let your anger get the best of you. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing until you had already choked the… well you wouldn’t say poor man out. 

Every sign pointed to the fact that you might be crazy, but you weren’t crazy. At the least, you were way too calm about this situation. You seemed to be learning many new things about yourself tonight. Like the fact you were strong enough to choke someone out, or like the other fact you were way less guilty than you probably should've been. Maybe reevaluating yourself after all of this was over would be the best plan.

The sound of a branch snapping freezes you in place. You're like a deer in the headlights. You dart your eyes around trying to find the source of the sound but come up empty. Not knowing whether to run or not, you just stay there frozen. Someone had seen you and you're probably royally fucked. There was no way they wouldn’t tell the police. Your genius plan of hiding the body and reporting him missing in a couple of days was rapidly falling apart in front of you.

Footsteps could be heard to the right of you. Whipping your head in that direction you make eye contact with a guy who was a bit taller. Upon seeing your frightened face he grabbed his stomach and hunched over laughing. You were angered and slightly embarrassed by this and couldn’t help but yell out, “What’s so funny?” You tried to sound confident and calm but you kind of just sounded way more whiny than you wanted.

The man said nothing in response. Instead, he opted to laugh a bit more before gathering his composure. As his laughs died down you felt your face flush with embarrassment. What was this guy's problem? You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but as soon as you went to speak you were cut off by him beginning to say something. “So this is your first time, huh?” He asked while walking closer to you. The stranger leaned down to get a closer look at your face. He was expecting an answer from you.

You took a large step back from him to create some distance. You wanted to yell at him, but all that came out was an exasperated, “What?” Who the fuck would phrase it like that? Apparently, this asshole does.  

He said nothing in response to your shouting. You watched him carefully as he made his next moves. He approached the body laying on the ground, lightly tapping at it with his foot. His head turned towards the shovel that lay on the ground a short distance off. “Yeah, you’ve def-definitely never done this before.” He started with a twitch of his neck followed by a clicking sound. “You’re lucky I showed up to help you or you’d be fuckin’ screwed.” He laughed, elongating the last word slightly. This guy was really starting to get on your nerves. 

He grabbed the shovel off the ground and put it between his backpack and his back. After making sure it was secure he turned back to look at you, “I’m Toby, by the way.” He stated before he reached down to grab the legs of your now former roommate. This was quite the turn of events. You hadn’t expected him to be enthusiastically helping you but he was, so you probably shouldn’t complain about it. 

You approached the other side of your roommate’s body and grabbed him under the shoulders. Looking forward at Toby, who was staring back at you as if waiting for you to say something. You realized he was probably waiting for you to give him your name so you guys weren’t just nameless strangers. Without another thought you offer him your name to which he nods in approval. 

With little word from each other, you head off in a direction carrying the body while Toby leads. You have little clue as to where you were going, but Toby seemed to know the forest pretty well. 

It was painfully silent for a while. The only sounds being made were the crickets, your footsteps, and the occasional clicks and small words that came from Toby. You figured he probably had a tic disorder and that it would be rude to question it, so you didn’t. 

Eventually, the silence became too much to bear and you had spent who knows how long racking your brain for something to say. You eventually settled on what was probably the most awkward thing for someone to say in a moment like this but that didn’t really matter. “So…” You started, catching Toby’s attention. “You do stuff like this often?” 

Toby laughed a little but this time it was different. He wasn’t particularly laughing at you. Well, he kind of was, but he was more so laughing at what you said. You still felt a bit embarrassed at your last statement. God, why were you so awkward? “To an-” His speech was quickly interrupted by his head slamming to the left side followed by a click. He let out an angry huff before continuing, “To answer your question, I kinda have a knack for these kinds of things.” He chuckled as though he was deeply proud of himself. 

The way he talked so casually about it freaked you out a bit. It wasn’t really normal to have such knowledge on hiding bodies nor was it normal to help someone you don’t know hide a body with such enthusiasm as he had. Like you were one to judge though when you were literally doing a piss-poor job of hiding a body. You were just going to dig a shallow hole, dump the body, and call it a night before he showed up. If anything, you should be thankful he showed up to help you and that he knew what he was doing. 

“That’s pretty cool.” You told him rather awkwardly before the pair of you fell back into silence. You didn’t really know what to say, and he wasn’t talking to you much either. Toby seemed focused on getting to your destination, so you didn’t want to bother him, lest you accidentally piss him off by saying the wrong thing.

Eventually, the dense woods turned into a small-sized clearing. Toby let go of his half of the body and looked to you expectantly, you got the point and let go yourself. “Okay,” He started with a clap, almost seeming excited for what was to come. “Drag the body over there and start digging a hole,” Toby pointed towards the middle of the clearing, “and I will g-gather what we need to get rid of it!” You could tell from his tone that he was likely smiling at whatever he was thinking, but you couldn’t see due to the mask covering his mouth. 

You didn’t argue with him though and did as you were told. You spent the next hour or more just digging while he zipped around grabbing sticks and branches then dropping them off beside you when he had a sizable bunch. You wished you had energy like his. 

At some point, Toby had sat his backpack down beside you and taken his jacket off before tying it around his waist. Maybe all this moving around was making him hot. It was at this moment you decided to look at him and get a good feel for his appearance. He wore a black turtleneck under his jacket, yellow goggles over his eyes, a mask over his mouth, dark-colored jeans, and boots. You couldn’t tell what the features of his face looked like due to all the coverings and the darkness, but you could tell he was rather pale with dark brown hair that looked quite soft. 

Honestly, you hadn’t even noticed that you had completely stopped shoveling to stare at him but he did and was staring right back at you. The both of you made eye contact and you moved your gaze to the ground with a flush on your face. You had to admit from what you had seen he did have a nice body and probably a nice face to match. To say you weren’t at least slightly attracted to him would be a lie but you also knew that nothing would likely come from hiding a body together. The two of you would probably go your separate ways and you’d never see him again. Besides, you did not know anything about this man other than the fact his name was Toby, and he had a lot of experience disposing of bodies. 

When you looked back he had gone back to gathering stuff to, what you assumed, burn the body with. What other reason would he be gathering sticks for? Fetch? Of course, you guys were burning the body.

Toby jogged back with another pile of sticks and dropped them on the ground. He leaned over the hole you had dug that was around the same length as your roommate and nodded in approval. “Looks good,” He said giving you a thumbs up. 

Toby threw the body into the hole with a bit of your help. “So, you start covering the body with sticks and shit, while I get to do the fun part.” He announced, turning his body towards you, waiting for your next move. You weren’t particularly happy that you had to do most of the work, but then again it was your kill and not his. His helping you out was more than worth some labor. 

Making haste, you piled the sticks on top of your poor, poor roommate’s dead body. You probably didn’t go as fast as Toby had hoped you would because he would soon start helping you out. With the help, you guys were able to get the task done relatively quickly. 

After you were done with the sticks you looked over at Toby, expecting him to give you new instructions or to just say anything. He was squatting on the ground digging through his overly full backpack, pulling random things out, and throwing them to the side. “I know it's fucking in here.” He hisses through his teeth, his anger barely contained. His tics seem to increase in frequency and severity the longer he searches which just makes him more irritated.

Toby seems to be getting more angry the longer he searches. “Um..” You’re looking around frantically when he whips his head around to look at you, obviously frustrated that you interrupted his almost hard-to-watch search in his backpack. “Are you okay?” You ask, your eyes settling on his piercing gaze through his goggles. You both just look at each other for a moment before his head violently jerks towards his shoulder. 

“I-I’m fine.” He snaps, looking away from you and returning his attention to his half-full backpack. He lets out a frustrated groan into his hands. You watch his next moves carefully as he grabs the bag by the bottom and just dumps its contents on the ground. That's one way to solve his problem.

Toby seems to become more content when he finds what he was looking for, which happened to be a can of lighter fuel. It was rather large and hard to miss, but you weren’t going to comment on that wanting to avoid another bad reaction. His rapid breathing slows as he calms down which makes you feel less worried about him. 

You approach him from the side and crouch down to help him put his stuff back into his bag. He nods his head at you but doesn’t say anything while you help him. To his right is a small pile of things that include lighter fuel and a couple boxes of matches. 

As you were picking stuff up you caught sight of a camera. Maybe that could help ease into conversation with Toby who hadn’t said much of anything all night. You wanted to know more about him and what was on his mind but you understood his obvious distrust of you. “You take pictures?” You asked, looking over at him with a small smile on your face, almost encouraging him to talk. 

Toby seemed to perk up some at your question and quickly looked over at you. He brought a hand to the back of his neck as he looked around awkwardly, his previous confidences seemingly buried at the mention of himself. “Yeah, sometimes… I mostly just take pictures of things I find interesting.” His tone was almost as awkward as his body language.

“That’s cool!” You smile at him, extending your hand to offer the camera. “What kind of things do you find interesting to photograph?” You ask. Toby takes the camera before standing, slinging the now full backpack over his shoulder, and offering you a hand up. 

Taking his hand, Toby pulled you up onto your feet. “Anyways, I take pictures of stuff like nature, food…” He pauses while looking around, “And y’know…my victims.” He laughs at his words, clearly amused by the fact.

Toby only seemed to become more amused at your facial expression. You hadn’t even realized you were pulling a face until he started laughing more. “Really?” He asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s with the shocked face? It’s not like you haven’t killed someone before,” He said, gesturing toward the hole. Even you had to admit that he did have a point. 

You didn’t know what to say back to him. You couldn’t argue in your defense because there was nothing to defend there, nor could you think of anything clever. So you fell back into an awkward silence of your creation. Good job on finding a conversation topic. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Toby said in a rather nonchalant manner “Who is this guy? Like why’d you kill him?” He asked, curiosity laced through his voice. 

“He was my roommate, and he was always kind of a creep.” You said looking at Toby who just nodded, waiting for more information. “But I always thought he was harmless until he was standing over my bed with a knife.” You finished, hoping your answer satisfied him enough to move on.

Clearly, it didn’t because he began to ask you more questions, “Yeah, and then what happened?” You really didn’t want to go into this, but since he was helping dispose of him then you guessed you owed him some explanation.

“So I strangled him?” You said but it came out more like a question. As though you weren’t quite sure of your answer. It was still hard to wrap your head around the fact you had taken someone’s life.

Toby’s only response was to pull the mask covering his mouth down and spit onto the pile, “Fuckin’ pervert.” He mumbled, quickly returning his covering into place before you could see the other side of his face. From what you saw he was rather attractive, prompting you to wonder why he covered his face to begin with.

 You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the gesture which caught Toby’s attention. “Yeah, I can be pretty funny sometimes,” He said with a slight laugh in his voice, as though he wasn’t taking what he said fully seriously. This just made you laugh more. 

It was nice to laugh. It was the first time tonight you hadn’t felt completely stressed out about potentially getting caught. Having Toby helping you was quite the stress relief, and you felt as though a heavy weight was taken off your shoulders by his presence alone. You should probably thank him after all this was over. You wished there was some way to make it up to him for his help, but you guessed a thanks was really all you could do. It’s not like they made cards that said ‘Thanks for helping me bury a body!’ 

You were so lost in thought that you admittedly got startled when he placed a hand on your shoulder. In his other hand was the can of lighter fluid that was placed in front of you. “You wanna do the honors? I mean he is your kill, not mine so...” He shook the can a little after he spoke, wanting you to take it. 

You reluctantly took it out of his hands and began to splash the flammable liquid onto the pile, slowly circling it to make sure you had as much of the body covered as possible. You had begun to feel slight excitement for what was about to happen. It wasn’t every day you made a bonfire out of some creep. 

Taking your attention off your task, you look over at Toby who can barely stand still. He was picking at his fingers while bouncing slightly, unable to contain his excitement. Based on his behavior and the contents of his backpack, it would be safe to assume that he had a bit of a passion for fire. It was kind of cute, in a rather fucked up way.

Standing across from him on the other side of the body, you shook the final contents of the can out onto the body. Toby was still picking at his fingers when you cleared your throat. He then looked up at you. “Cans empty.” You said giving it a shake for emphasis. 

“Fuck yeah!” He practically yelled, grabbing a box of matches off the ground and waving you over. 

Taking your place beside him, he grabbed around 4 matches out of the box and prepared to strike them. “You ever smelt a burning body before?” He asked in a joking manner, looking down at you. 

 “Um... I can’t say that I have.” You stated, not really seeing the point of his question. Of course, you hadn’t smelt a burning body before. What normal person has? 

He clicked his tongue at that, “Well, it ain’t pleasant, so just be prepared and try not to breathe through your nose.” He patted you on the head twice after saying that which made you stiffen up. That was a bit weird but okay.

In one quick movement, he struck the matches quickly and out burst a small flame. You watched carefully as Toby extended his arm and dropped the matches onto the pile.

With a loud ‘fwoosh’ a raging flame bloomed into life. You could feel the heat tickle at your cheeks even at the safe distance the pair of you stood from. For a burning body, it was almost beautiful.

You noticed shuffling out of the corner of your eye, looking to see what was going on. You saw Toby pulling his goggles down to hang loosely around his neck. Probably to get a view of the fire that wasn’t tinted as yellow as his lenses were. 

Not being able to help but stare, you took note of his eyes. They were chestnut brown and the way the fire bounced off of them was mesmerizing. It was almost as though the fire provided life to his eyes and so did his excitement. He was rocking slightly back and forth as a way to, what you assumed, get his excess excitement out. 

It wasn’t long before Toby noticed you staring at him and just like earlier began staring back at you. His eyes lit up in amusement and he raised his eyebrows slightly before speaking, a smirk ever-present in his voice. You may have just inflated his ego. “See something you like, sweetheart?” He said in a serious voice but burst out laughing a minute later, completely unable to handle the bullshit that just spewed from his mouth.

“You should have seen the look on your face,” He wheezed out between laughs. You, on the other hand, were profusely blushing from both being flustered and embarrassed. It couldn’t have been that funny, but he seemed to find a lot of things you did amusing enough to laugh at. 

Toby was quick to gather himself and catch his breath before slinging an arm around your shoulder with a sigh. You stiffened at the contact but said nothing. His behavior around you was getting way more casual than you expected seeing as you spent a large chunk of the night in awkward silences filled with mostly nonverbal cues. 

You guess you didn’t mind the contact too much because you did nothing to break it. You were content with this in some odd way. Nothing about this was normal nor would it create a content feeling in any sane person. There was probably something deeply wrong with your psyche yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that much. You’d deal with that another day, but as of right now, you were having what was probably the weirdest, most thrilling experience of your life.

Toby cleared his throat and removed his arm from your shoulder, freeing you from the not-so-unwanted but also not really wanted contact. Your gaze met his and for a moment your heart fluttered. 

“So, you enjoying the show?” He asked sounding almost nervous for your answer. You just nodded in response averting your eyes from his. You missed when he had his goggles on, and you couldn’t see his stupid eyes too well. 

Toby took a knee, whipping his backpack off his shoulder before rifling through his bag and pulling out his camera. He zipped up the backpack and took a seat on the ground sitting criss-cross.

Toby looked up at you and patted the ground beside him as an invitation for you to sit down beside him. Making you wonder what he was up to, but without much question you sat down beside him. His body language read as nervous while he seemed to be mustering the courage to say something important. Quite different from his previously confident demeanor. 

“Co-could I take a picture of us?” He asked, looking at you with almost pleading eyes as false confidence wavered throughout his voice. The thought made you kind of nervous, what if someone got ahold of his camera and turned it over to the police? You both would get in deep trouble which is something you didn’t want at all. 

 “I promise no one will see it!” Toby blurted out rather quickly as though he knew what you were thinking. He was picking at his fingers once more while his head jerked again. He was probably as nervous as you were from asking you such a question. “I just don’t want to forget tonight,” He sounded almost sad as he spoke which made your heart clench a little.

What did you have to lose? Other than your freedom by creating more evidence of your crime but then again there was still a chance you wouldn’t get away. There was a lot that needed to happen before you were truly free of your crimes so again, what did you really have to lose by taking one picture? The answer was nothing. 

So with a soft sigh, you gave him your answer, “Fine, but only the one.” You said trying to be stern but a slight smile pulled at the corners of your lips. He seemed happy at your approval and started fidgeting with his camera, setting up to take the picture.

This whole situation was starting to feel quite funny to you. Here you were sitting on the ground with a serial killer, burning your roommate's dead body as the sun came up, and you were about to take a selfie with said serial killer so he can remember tonight. You let out a small chuckle at the thought which catches Toby’s attention briefly, but he looks away as quickly as he looked.

You’re ripped out of your thoughts by Toby wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer so you’d fit inside the camera screen. He puts his fingers that were resting atop your shoulder into a peace sign and you flash a smile at the camera. With a click and a flash the picture is taken, and Toby is looking down at his camera happily. 

“How’d it turn out?” You asked looking over at his camera but he hides it away from you. You shoot Toby a confused look but he just shrugs before stowing it away in his backpack. 

“Don’t stress, you looked cute” He laughs a little trying to sound confident but you could see the tips of his ears and cheeks were tinged in a soft pink. It took you a moment to register what he had just said to you. Did he just call you cute? You couldn’t help but blush a little at his words.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you next time.” Next time? You sure as hell didn’t plan for there to be a next time of you hiding a body, but seeing him again did sound nice. 

Toby pushes himself up off the ground and adjusts his backpack properly onto his back. Once again he extends a hand towards you and you accept his offer for help. “What do you mean by ‘next time’? Are you expecting to hide another body?” You question him but he shrugs again.

“Y’know, next time we hang out.” He says as if it was a fact extending his hand out to you. In between his fingers was a small slip of paper with a number scrawled on it in messy but readable handwriting. It suited him. 

“You didn’t think I’d just let you go off by yourself right?” His question was less of a question and more of a statement. He was just saying stuff he thought should be obvious to you. “Also, it doesn’t have to be hiding a body. We can do whatever you want.” 

Your eyes darted across his face waiting for him to start laughing again like he was joking once more, but he didn’t laugh or show any sign of not being serious. “We like bonded and shit. You don’t just burn a body with someone and then never meet again.” He chuckled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You were stunned silent but he didn’t seem to care as he grabbed you by the wrist and started leading you in a direction, “Where are we going?” You asked, dragging slightly behind him. 

Toby stopped moving and turned around to face you, letting go of your wrist, “I’m taking you home. The woods aren’t safe for people who don’t know their way around here.” He started, observing your face for a moment before continuing. “Plus it gives us more time to hang out.” He admitted.

There it was, the real reason. He was quite the character that you had grown to enjoy being around over the last couple of hours. Maybe hanging out with him again wouldn’t be so bad. Toby took your silence as a response of understanding and began walking in the same direction he was leading you. 

The way home was filled with plenty of laughter and pleasant conversation between you and Toby. You never would have thought burning a body with someone would lead to such a strange yet genuine connection. The rational part of you screamed that becoming close to him would probably bring new, yet thrilling, situations that could put you in danger. You didn’t want to listen to the rational parts right now. You were more concerned with what your heart had to say. It ached for excitement, an excitement that only someone like Toby could bring. 

With a smile on your face, you grabbed his hand, hoping he wouldn’t mind too much. He looked over at you and just shook his head before interlocking your fingers together. 

<3

[pynkhues]

curious as to your thoughts on the may december discourse (some spoilers i guess) - vili has come out and essentially said that he felt the film contributed to his victimization and hurt him. and the response from a lot of film twitter seems to be to yell ITS NOT A BIOPIC and to say he doesnt understand the film (gross). i feel like i dont really care if its a biopic or not, when the film literally quoted vili/mary kay, recreated the mary kay in prison photo exactly, and both charles melton and julianne moore studied vili/mary kay for their performances. to hand wave that all as "not a biopic" feels like a way of writing off any discomfort. i feel like the film should not have made those specific choices, but having done so they had a duty of care to vili. i dont think the film that ended up getting made is worth the continued trauma to vili even if it is art. there were other ways they could have told the story to minimize the harm and they chose not to - and i dont think that choice is a great commentary on tabloids or whatever, its just a ghoulish thing to do

I did see that, anon, and I do have thoughts on it as it's a real grey area in terms of creative license, art and storytelling, and it's a grey area that's been around really since storytelling existed, but before I get into that I just want to quickly clarify what Vili said, because I do think it's important.

Vili didn't say that the film contributed to his victimisation and hurt him, he said the film offended him because it was a ripoff:

“I’m still alive and well,” says Fualaau, now 40 and still living in the Seattle area, where the scandal unfolded. “If they had reached out to me, we could have worked together on a masterpiece. Instead, they chose to do a ripoff of my original story. “I’m offended by the entire project and the lack of respect given to me — who lived through a real story and is still living it,” he adds.

“I love movies — good movies,” he says. “And I admire ones that capture the essence and complications of real-life events. You know, movies that allow you to see or realize something new every time you watch them. “Those kinds of writers and directors — someone who can do that — would be perfect to work with, because my story is not nearly as simple as this movie [portrays],” Fualaau adds.

The reason I think this distinction is an important one to make is because in interviews since Mary Kay Letourneau passing, it's pretty clear that Vili - while absolutely being a victim-survivor - doesn't see himself that way, and even says pretty specifically in his Doctor Oz interview from 2020 that he doesn't see her as a predator or himself as having been preyed on ('there was no perversion...she was my wife and my best friend' are his exact words), and he's pretty clearly open to the idea of a film being made about his story.

I'm not saying this to diminish his feelings about May December at all (I strongly believe that Vili is entitled to feel any and every which way about the film) or to patronise his own understanding of what he experienced - I can't even begin to imagine the complexity of trying to unpack the life he shared with her - but I think it's important to reflect his feelings accurately and to provide a little context to those feelings.

With that said, do I think the creative team should've reached out to Vili before making the film?

Honestly, I don't know.

I think it's one of those questions in art where there's not really a right answer. If Vili's feelings towards Mary Kay are still lost in the silver linings of her grooming, any film that has his direct approval or involvement is going to run the risk of tacit endorsement. It also hamstrings the creative team and opens them up in terms of liability (I actually was a writers assistant on a TV show a million years ago that was sort of a bio pic and I can tell you for a fact that it was a disaster once the person it was based on got involved), and, of course, it runs the risk of shifting the focus of the story the writer is wanting to tell.

And that's the thing about art, right? By design, art is supposed to reflect us back to ourselves in ways that we might not always be comfortable with. Of course, that usually happens less literally than in how Todd Haynes has used Vili and Mary Kay's stories, but not always. Todd Haynes is certainly no stranger to the technique given Velvet Goldmine is pretty transparently inspired by David Bowie and I'm Not There is often confused as a Bob Dylan bio pic despite the fact that it's actually not.

Hell, everyone loves that Succession points a pretty clear finger to the Murdoch's, and while, of course, the Murdoch's - and Bowie and Dylan for that matter - have social, political and economic power that Vili doesn't which does impact the ethics of the decision, it's still made under the same creative ideology that aspects of a real story can render an artwork, a story, a film more emotionally authentic, can create greater resonance, can offer a sharper reflection of the world we live in and offer, perhaps, a message or a question that lingers.

All of this has actually kind of been funny timing as I just finished reading Sarah Weinman's The Real Lolita the other day which is a really excellent blend of true crime, literary history and critical commentary on this exact topic. The book explores the real life case of Sally Horner who was kidnapped by a pedophile in 1948 when she was 11 years old and was forced to roadtrip with him around America for two years. It's actually mentioned in passing in Nabokov's Lolita, but once you go a little deeper it's pretty clear how much of Horner and her story Nabokov used to create Dolores Haze / Lolita.

In the book, Weinnman asks the question as to why Lolita gets to be remembered when Sally's been left to obscurity, and of course, the answer is that there are other Sally's in the news cycle, but only one Lolita in art, and that hopefully in her writing Sally Horner's story she can write her back into bookshelves and place her back into this artwork but who knows if that's what Sally would've wanted (Sarah does, at least, talk to Sally's lone surviving family member, and makes a measure to show that it's very unlikely Nabokov ever did the same).

Was Nabokov wrong for not seeking out Sally's family for Lolita? Honestly, I doubt it even would've occured to him to do so, and the fact that we do now ask questions like this about the ethics of inspiration is, I think, a good thing. We should be critical of how stories are told and who is, and isn't, involved in the telling of them, but again, I don't actually think there are right or wrong answers here.

Fiction is always inspired by real people, real events, real life, it's a part of creation, it's a part of capturing a moment in time, it's about reflection and authenticity, but of course that's been rendered more complex in recent years by the fact that we live in a world that's ever shrinking and the people or the events that inspire new stories are inevitably brought into the public narrative in a way they just weren't back in 1955 when Lolita was first published.

So what does that mean for creativity and inspiration? I don't know, but personally I guess my thoughts would be that Vili is absolutely in his rights to be offended by the film, but I also don't think the filmmakers were wrong necessarily to not reach out. It's not the most ethical choice, but I also don't think it was an inherently bad one either. This isn't a Blonde situation where they write fiction and present it as fact, the creatives have been clear about it being inspried by what happened between Mary Kay and Vili, but they're also not saying Vili and Mary Kay are Joe and Gracie.

I appreciate you feeling like it's much of a muchness though given how they've apparently lifted entire scenes of dialogue. It's a murky question after all, and it's certainly one that's more complex when it comes to people like Vili and Sally than it is with the Murdoch's or even David Bowie, but yes, I'm not sure I see it as something inherently wrong, and I don't personally think it was ghoulish. I just think the specifics of this particular case just kind of shows how the sausage is made when it comes to storytelling.

[muniimyg]

tahana // paraluman jk + oc extra

series m.list

taglist: @kakixaku @boraength @4ksj @pamzn @jinsearth @fancycollectormoon @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @fan-ati--c @kthlvr30 @ellesalazar @taeees-world @sukunasrealgf @firesighgirl @jeonninja @bloopkook @butterymin @pinkseokchim @joonsjuice

wanring: character death !!! talks of grieving, breaking up & just sad vibes

note: ok i promised myself that i would never touch paraluman ever again after completing it... but i couldn't help myself with this little blurb.... it lingered a minute too long for me to jus sit still and not write it out </3 enj my wuvs !!

context: this takes place shortly after oc's grandmother passes away. jungkook and oc are slowly mending their friendship and getting close again !!! oc is dating yoongi (at this time but it's nearing the end of their relationship)

Jungkook pats your back as you hunch over the sink. You gag every so often and with each nauseous breath in; he pulls your hair back tighter with his hands. Clearing your face from the loose strands, Jungkook can't help but wonder how much more you have in your tiny body left to throw up. Suddenly, a trio of friends bursts through the washroom doors. Their laughing is put on pause the moment they stumble in and see a very irritated look on Jungkook's face.

"Occupied."

They all share a look with one another and shoot him a dirty look. One girl groans at his stern tone and comes forward. Rolling her eyes at him, she complains; "If you two are trying to fuck in here, get out! This is a fucking public washroom—"

"And it’s fucking occupied.”

The girls all gasp at Jungkook's words. Another girl crosses her arms and speaks out. "You're a dick, you know? Like, are you serious? You can't even ask us nicely to leave—"

"I wasn't asking."

Jungkook lowers his gaze at them. Tension quickly begins to build and before they could make a bigger fuss, Yoongi squeezes himself through.

"Ladies, the washroom downstairs is free. I'll buy you all a shot if you just go and leave them be..." Yoongi bargains. The trio are easily persuaded. Partly because they're too tipsy to continue their fight and partly because a free shot is a fucking free shot. They accept Yoongi's offer, break into giggles, and stick their tongues out at Jungkook. One flips him off right before they turn their heels and head downstairs.

Once they're out of sight, Yoongi closes the door for more privacy. He turns the lock and leans against the door. "You should've locked it," he sighs. "... Is she okay?"

Yoongi then bends down to take a closer look at you. You look a little messy but nothing extensive.

Just drunk.

You were just really drunk.

Jungkook shakes his head, feeling unexpectedly panicked. Perhaps it's because of Yoongi's aura. There is something about him that simply makes Jungkook relax. Even though they've only known each other for a short while, Yoongi is the definition of comfort. Meeting him and getting to know him is the easiest thing Jungkook has ever done for you. He understands why you love Yoongi so much and honestly doesn't feel competitive with him around. It's like he knows you're safe with Yoongi and with that so is he.

“Yoongi, I've never seen her drink this much. I shouldn't have let her drink this fucking much—"

“… Are you kidding me?” Yoongi groans in disbelief. In moments like these, he applauds Jungkook’s devotion to you but also finds it a little sad. “It’s not your fault.. This,” he gestures at your state, “… is not your fault. ___’s grandma just passed away... Of course, she'd be drinking this much! Regardless if you let her or not; she's going to do what she wants. You get that, right?”

Truth be told…

No.

Jungkook doesn’t get it. In his head, you’re still that child that needs him. Him here with you.. Unable to make you feel better makes him feel so fucking useless.

So, Jungkook stays silent.

He still can't help but feel disappointed in himself for not watching out for you better. He sulks in his self resentment.

"I don't know what to do.” Jungkook confides in Yoongi. “Maybe it’s because I haven't been with her in so long but this just feels like karma in some sick way..”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know anymore.. It’s just—what… What if too much has changed between us and I'm not good enough for her anymore? I’ve never had to be there for her in this sense.. The grieving and the coping—“

Yoongi chuckles, "You have and will always be good enough for her. God, you're a lot more insecure than I could have ever imagined you to be..."

Jungkook huffs.

“It’s just life. She’ll grow through what she goes through. As long as you stay by her side; it’s enough.”

With that, Yoongi presses a kiss on your cheek before excusing himself. He whispers, "My love, I'll be back. You're in good hands."

"Whose hands?"

"Jungkook is right here.”

Weakly, you lift your head. “Really? He’s back?”

Yoongi smiles at you. “Back? Awh, come on. He’d never leave you.”

"Yes, he would!"

Yoongi rolls his eyes at you. “Well, he’s here now. You can fight him while I’m gone. Okay?"

You nod slowly, eyes closed but ever so understanding. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows. “___, are you still drunk?”

“Okay," you sing. "okay, okay.. Okay!"

Yoongi snorts and pats your head. He gets up and places his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m okay," Jungkook breathes. "... I think. Maybe just call us an Uber and we'll be down in like... Fifteen? She's still throwing up a bit."

Yoongi nods. “Okay.”

Abruptly, you giggle, “okaaaayyy!”

The two boys exchange funny looks. Silently, they find you cute. Yoongi then leaves to go downstairs, pay for the trio's shots, and to grab your bag and jackets. He'll order the Uber in fifteen, just as Jungkook suggested.

Meanwhile, you throw up once more. After you do so, you compose yourself. You attempt to catch your breath and fix your posture.

"You need water. Can you walk? Let's go downstairs and Yoongi can get you some water." Jungkook helps you stand still. You hold your stance for two seconds before collapsing on him.

With your face buried in his chest, you take in his scent. He smells like how he always has. It smells like childhood to you.

"I missed you," you murmur. "You ditched me for this life, right? What's so good about it? I feel like shit right now."

He laughs in response.

You pout.

“You're weak shit," Jungkook teases you. "You can't handle the shit you down.. And I didn't ditch you."

Jungkook then pulls you up to stand better. He reaches over and turns the tap on. Cupping his hands, he lets the water fill up and brings it to your face. Gently, he cleans your face up. He takes the hem of his shirt and wipes the access water off.

"You ditched me."

"No, I didn't,” he insists. “Bhie, I invited you to every club, party, and event. You never wanted to come. You started dating Yoongi and then—"

"And then grandma died."

"Bhie…”

You bite the inside of your cheeks. “You know, Yoongi is leaving for his music career too… Does that mean he's going to break up with me soon? Fuck.." You purse your lips. “I hate my life.”

"Don't manifest bullshit like that," Jungkook chuckles. "He loves you. He wouldn't leave you."

"Y-yeah... And even if he does leave me—"

"—Which he won't—“

"At least he won't be dead, right?" you attempt to humour your pain. You smile for a millisecond before feeling the ache take away your momentary cope.

Silence falls between you two.

"... She's really gone, Jungkook." You can’t hold yourself back. The most you can do now is hope your voice doesn't break and you can get these words out. “I have nobody, you know? She promised me she'd stay but she didn't. She's gone and now you're back so y-you have to promise me that you'll stay, okay?"

You grab a fist full of the collar of his shirt. Looking deep into his eyes as yours water in pure hurt and grief, you plead. "Promise me you'll stay by my side."

"My you, I promise," Jungkook says. He takes his hand and covers your fist with it. He moves it to his heart and offers you a smile. "I won't leave you. If anything, I'll let you leave first. I'd rather watch you walk away than leave you.”

Your breath hitches at his words. You feel a lump in your throat and your heart begins to beat faster and faster. Before you can stop yourself, a small sob escapes your lips. Then, it's followed by a deep breath that fails to give you any relief. You rush to cover your face with your hands and let yourself begin to sob.

Jungkook embraces you. You cry harder and harder, suddenly feeling the weight of the world.

You're exhausted.

You're drunk.

You're just really drunk.

And in the midst of your drunken cries, the faint smell of childhood, and the mere idea of his promise being kept, you think to yourself; this is home.

In Jungkook you find rest. You find parts of yourself you thought you had lost. In him, you feel so much comfort and familiarity. It’s almost like a nostalgic haze you get lost in.

That’s when you decide that he’s your home. From here on out, this is where you stay.

I love him.

I love him one.

I love him too.

I love him three times more than I have ever before.

One I love you for the past. A second for the present and a third for the future.

How could you ever leave his side? How could you ever let him leave you again? Life and its trials will come and go... But him?

He has to stay.

He promised to.

Besides, if it's not him, it's not anybody.

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

The Weight of the Truth

June of Doom, day 17: "You don't want to do that"/Blackmail (late entry, @juneofdoom )

Genre: angst

CW: bodily harm, gore, blood, torture, death

A/N: the events of this one-shot take place before the events of BG3. It was a little challenging to write because when the campaign took place I wasn't smart enough to take good, detailed notes of the events that went down in each session. Essentially I have a bunch of bits and pieces of Summer's story that are barely connected to each other and now I have to re-invent a lot of that stuff. It's quite frustrating, but hopefully the result isn't too bad.

Empty.

Summer feels completely, utterly empty as she stares at the blood that stains her hands. Honestly, she should've expected this. Revenge tastes bitter when you sacrifice your integrity and the fate of your friends to obtain it.

She knew what she would be giving up when she struck up the deal, and yet it didn't stop her. She needed that woman gone, wanted to make her pay for what she's done to her. She knows how selfish this all is... and yet here she sits, in front of Lady Ashes' mangled corpse as she contemplates the horrible consequences of her actions.

Just two days ago an angel descended from the heavens to eliminate her. It knew about her deal with Asmodos, and if only that blasted thing hadn't underestimated the sheer, raw power of her magic, it would've easily taken her life... and perhaps even her friends'. How long until something like that happens again? Until her companions are caught up in her mess and suffer its consequences?

No... what is she even talking about? They were already caught up in this mess from the moment Summer started selling information to Asmodos and running his errands, deceptively making them look like part of their mission so that her friends wouldn't question her. The terms of her deal prevent her from having to directly harm her group, but let's face it... what she is doing right now isn't any better.

Now Lady Ashes is finally gone, both from the Material Plane and The Creator's realm. After Summer manages to intercept her lackeys before they get to her parents in Ferox, her wretched schemes will never hurt anyone ever again. She got what she wanted, but as the thrill of the kill subsides and that feeling of liberation dissipates... she can't even attempt to feel any happiness for what she's done.

If her soul usually burns as hot as the fire of the Hells, right now it feels more like a frozen lake, silent and dead.

She got what she wanted, but at what cost? Her allies, her friends, still trust her with their lives every single day, not knowing that she is nothing more than a filthy traitor. Not knowing that under her mischievous smile hides the rot of guilt and betrayal. What breaks her heart even more is the fact that the people she travels with are all wonderful individuals and that some of them would even forgive her if they ever found out. Hells, Jaime outright told her that he would've understood wanting to take the deal. That she was a better person than him for refusing. Those words almost make her want to vomit now. She is not better than him, and perhaps she isn't even a good person to begin with.

Arwen is a good person, she deserves those words. She didn't even have to think before she refused Asmodos' pact. Summer wishes she could be like her. Strong and resolute in her way of doing things, rather than being pulled left and right by her volatile emotions and diving in before thinking, unlike her.

Arwen... what would she say if she found out? Would she abandon her? Kill her? She wouldn't blame her if that was the case. Somehow, out of everyone in the group, she is the one Summer is most scared of if she was to find out the truth. Not because of her reaction... but because Summer dreads the idea of hurting her like that.

Hah, but perhaps she is only scared of being caught, because if she truly didn't want to hurt her, then she wouldn't have done this to begin with!

Summer hangs her head in shame, letting out a shaky sigh. “Fuck...”

“My, my... I thought you'd be celebrating by now, my dear. Isn't the vampire's death what you wanted all along?” Says Asmodos' deep, gravelly voice from the darkness. “Surely you've had your fun tonight...” he comments with a glance towards the woman's remains as he finally walks out of the shadows, his large, black wings stretching and then folding down again behind his broad back. “I expected more appreciation for the gift I've given you...” he tuts.

A scoff leaves Summer's mouth as she looks up at the devil with no fear in her yellow eyes. “What do you want, Asmodos?” She spits with disgust, her tail flicking behind her irritatedly. He rolls his eyes in response to her little outburst. “Why, I am merely here to enjoy the sight...” Summer doesn't know if he is referring to the dead prisoner... or to the despair that's surely written all over her face right now... but she has a feeling it might be the second thing. “And to remind you of your little mission, of course. You still need to get rid of the mind flayer-” “I don't want to do this anymore..” She interrupts, and Asmodos' face turns dark. “What was that?”

“I said...” she gets up off the floor, standing her ground as she stares into his equally yellow eyes. “I don't want to do this anymore, so I am not gonna. I already gave you what you wanted, and I got what I required. This ends here. I am not going to do your little errands anymore, and if you have a problem with that, we can settle it right here, right now.” She growls defiantly, her hand already reaching for her dagger.

Asmodos stands still, looking down at her in silence and with an unreadable expression on his face. She thinks he must be at least twice as big as the orcs she had to face off against a month ago. He is massive, and powerful too... There's no way she can actually survive in a fight against him, but if that's what it's going to take to finally get away from his clutches and stop putting her friends in danger, then so be it. She is ready.

“You don't want to do that.” The flat tone of his voice makes a shiver run down her spine. “Actually, I think I do.” She tries to keep her voice as still as possible, but the more he stalls the less confident she feels.. “No, you really don't, little girl.” He narrows his eyes at her. “Did you really think I would kill you so easily? Oh, no, my dear... you are much more useful and much more entertaining alive. So if you were hoping for an easy way out, well... I'm afraid you are going to be disappointed.” A smirk curls his lips. “I gave you the whereabouts of Lady Ashes' underlings, and in exchange I asked that you kill the mind flayer. That part of the pact still stands, tiefling, and you will take care of it if you don't want your little friends to find out what you've been doing behind their backs.” His smirk widens, showing off his sharp fangs. Summer can feel her stomach twisting uncomfortably at his words.

“And in case that wasn't enough to get you to do your damn job... I want to remind you that I might've shown interest in dealing with you and your warlock companion, but I have absolutely no use for the rest of your adorable little group. You're still holding the knife that's sticking out of their backs... surely you don't want to finish them off once and for all?” He chuckles darkly and for a moment Summer feels like hurling. “Don't you dare-!!” His wings open suddenly as he steps forward, making her almost jump back. “Oh I will, if you don't do as I say. Don't play hero, Summer... we both know you're nothing more than a wretched beast.” He growls deeply, almost making the air around them vibrate.

“Keep up your little rebellious act and I will tell your group how you've betrayed them for the mere opportunity of getting to torture and kill the vampire. Then, I will kill all of your friends one by one, slowly and painfully, and I'll make you watch every single second of it. After that, it will be your family's turn and, well... who knows what I'll do with you then? I have yet to decide, but I can assure you... it will be excruciatingly agonizing.” He hisses a mere two centimeters from her face, and Summer feels like he is staring right into her soul and picking apart each one of her sins with his scrutinizing gaze. “Do this for me... and all they'll have to worry about is finding a way out of the continent before I demolish it with them still in it. If they manage to survive that far, that is.” He chuckles again, before turning serious once more.

“I know it's horrendously difficult for you, Summer, but... be smart for once. Stop poking your nose where it doesn't belong and leave. You aren't heroes, so don't try to die like you are. You'll be better off washing your hands of this ordeal, trust me.” For a split second, the young tiefling feels like agreeing with the devil. He is right about her, after all.

She is no hero. Hells, the more she goes on the more she feels like a monster with each passing day. She's been selfish in her choice of accepting his deal... what's another act of selfishness now, after all this? But as quick as that thought pops up in her mind, it disappears without a trace, replaced with a burning desire to put a stop to Asmodos' schemes. This is her home, and he doesn't get to destroy it and kill the innocent people that live in it like they were worth nothing. Summer might be a beast, but those people have done nothing to deserve such an end, and if there's anything she can do to spare them that fate, then she will do it.

So she has to do one last thing for him? So be it, but keeping her alive will have been the biggest mistake of his immortal life. She will make sure of it. If she has to go down then she will bring him down with her.

“I want that mind flayer dead by the end of tomorrow. Don't disappoint me.” He peers down at her, unaware of the flurry of thoughts swirling in her mind right now. “Fine. I'll do it.” And as soon as she says that, the darkness dissipates and she finds herself in the little woods just outside of camp once again.

“Good. Keep your head down and do as I say...”

Summer looks around her warily, trying to see if anyone from camp followed her, but no... she is alone. The sky is still dark and everyone else is probably asleep. She must've been in that pocket dimension for at least four hours.

She can still see the fire crackling weakly in the distance, and by the time she gets back to camp she's already made up her mind.

She won't let him win.

[sunfloo-wers]

I should've timestamped when I started writing cause I did not think this would be this long ._.

I need every one to go listen to the Skord Skyloft theme (specifically the "Skyloft [From "Zelda: Skyward Sword"]" by Henriko Magnifico on Spotify, I don't know if what I'm talking about is in the other ones but I was listening to that one and ahsufahbsukfgbvakSfhvn

at around 1:27 it does a really cool thing, I was humming along as one does and the only reason I noticed was because my throat was not fond of it but that's besides the point.

It does a thing where (and take the vocabulary with a grain of salt cause I am not a music guy and have not done any type of music besides learning viola for two years then dropping it) it plays what I think is some sort of woodwind in a staccato rhythm (at 1:23) (feels like quarter notes, but again not sure) then goes into eighth or sixteenth notes (something fast paced) for ten straight seconds. Just these two notes doing an up down up down up down step ladder for ten seconds! (from 1:27 to 1:37)

At the beginning there's still that viola/violin slow soft whole note esc flow, and a kinda of heartbeat style soft drum beat as well, underneath the sharper notes, BUT at 1:31 it and anything else I'm missing drops out. and for the next 6 seconds you're just listening to the up down up down up down. The only interruptions is a harp(?) flick(?) at the tail end of 1:34 and 5 notes of the heartbeat play after it very softly at 1:35-6. Neither of these are the base of a song and therefore I considered my claim at the end of the last paragraph to still be true (ie: the pizza that this song is here is just toppings, a pile of cheese(the woodwind notes) a pepperoni slide(the harp flick) and 5 tiny mushroom chunks(heartbeat), that is not a pizza that is a pile of toppings). THEN the harmonica (or whatever instrument the melody is played by, I don't know) swoops back in and the up down up down up down is completely gone by 1:39

AND I FUCKING LOVE IT I don't know if my psychoanalysis showcases my dear love for this song and this specific snippet so I just want to make one thing clear, I love this song, I love this snippet, I love this so much AHHHHHHHHHHH

Honestly Skord music mean so much to me, it's gorgeous, drop dead gorgeous. If you gave me Skyward Sword music I would love you forever, you could get anything out of me, there isn't a corner of my heart I wouldn't share for Skyward Sword music.

AND THIS IS JUST THE HOME BASE THEME!!!! This game has plenty of plot relevant songs and all that, boss themes, the goddess song, the hero's spirit song, Ghirahim's fucking song (which is a rant for another day because that one is awesome too, and if you're reading this far go to here, it is the best post on this website I have it bookmarked on my computer I'm 100% serious), this is the fucking Skyloft theme, the theme for the start of the game home base town where Link just lives, doesn't have anything to do with his adventure, or anything, it's just Skyloft.

ahem. yes. I'm completely normal about this I promise. (this was barely 20 seconds of this song make sure I never decide to do this type of thing for anything longer I would not survive it)

If you read this far here's a cookie thank you for coming to my ted talk! :D

[starkstruck27]

Here's that ficlet that I have to rewrite because I fucking lost it and I'm crying about it as I write. I got the inspiration from this absolutely beautiful gif made by @fleethall and I'll link it here so that everyone can see it, because it's gorgeous. I hope the ficlet is half as good as it was the first time because I'm literally crying over it, but either way, enjoy. Also, TW for suicidal ideations.

It was too hot for it being early June in Indiana. Billy'd expect this kind of weather back in California, but here in Hawkins, where it was normal to reach the negatives in the winter, he didn't expect it to be like sitting on the Devil's back porch. Especially this fucking early in the morning.

It was just beginning to get light outside, the sun barely halfway exposed over the horizon, and Billy was in his bed in nothing but his boxers, because his dad had never bothered to put that rickety old window AC unit back in his room, he didn't know how to do it himself. So he had to settle for wearing as few clothes as possible, opening the windows, and turning on the rusty old fan he'd dug out of the garage to try and keep cool. It wasn't doing much, especially as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, but it was better than nothing. It's not like Billy was going to get back to sleep this morning anyway.

Truth be told, he hadn't gone to sleep at all last night, despite how tired he was from the day before. He just couldn't, he had too much on his mind. So he'd just laid there, smoking cigarette after cigarette, and just thinking. He was trying to ignore the throbbing in his side, and he'd done a pretty good job after about an hour or so, once the Advil had set in. Now it was getting harder and harder to do that as the painkiller wore off, but still, his brain was keeping him occupied enough not to think about it.

Not that he was exactly happy about that. He wished he could just clear his mind and not think about anything right now, but he couldn't. He couldn't get his stupid electric head meat to shut up and stop supplying him with thoughts of the boy with the hazel eyes that was apparently leaving for college or some job opportunity or whatever in just a few days. The boy who he thought had loved him, but apparently not enough to talk to him about all this until two days before he was supposed to leave him behind and move to god only knew where. Billy had honestly stopped listening after he'd heard the words "I'm leaving" coming from the other boy's mouth.

Billy lit another cigarette and slid off of his bed to sit on the floor, his legs splayed out and his arms hanging limp with his hands in his lap. He leaned his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes, wishing for about the 80 millionth time that they'd never even moved to this shitty little town in the first place. Then none of this would be happening.

And yeah, he knew it was his fault that they had. As much as he tried to blame it on Max, he knew that he'd been the one to officially fuck things up in the first place. If he wanted to get technical about it, he'd say it was a joint effort, because yeah, he'd made the initial mistake, but Max was the one who had thrown it back in his face when she was mad at him for something, and his dad had overheard her. Then, after the beating of a lifetime and a trip to the ER, his dad found them a house back in his hometown, and after his broken wrist healed, they were gone. Billy hadn't spoken to Max after that day, and he still didn't until the first day they'd gotten into town. Not even a single word passed between the two of them during the entire cross-country drive, and he felt completely justified for that.

Really, he should've known not to trust her, but he thought that because he was pretty sure she was like him, she would get it, that she would know why she needed to keep it under wraps. But she was just a child, he should've known that she wouldn't understand. She didn't understand why it was so important, that if she didn't keep the secret, not only would Billy's dad turn on him, but so would the rest of the world. He didn't know why he thought that would be enough to convince her.

See, here's how it happened. Billy'd had a few good friends back in San Diego, a group of guys that he spent every spare second he could with. There was Wayne, and Argyle, and Sid, and Tim. But then, there was Logan. He was a year younger than Billy in school, since his birthday was late in the summer, but that hadn't mattered to Billy. When they'd met, Billy had gravitated naturally towards the other boy, drawn in by his optimism and constant need to look on the bright side.

With his eyes closed like this, Billy could still picture his perfect face. He had tan skin and bleach-blonde hair, and his eyes were the color of wet sand. His nose was bent in three places from having been broken seven times in his life, and his smile was as bright as the moon reflecting off the ocean on a clear night. It made Billy's heart speed up, and to him, it was perfect, even though one of his canines was slightly crooked. It reminded Billy of a time before his mom had left, before his dad was drafted to fight in Vietnam and came back changed for the worse, before, when his house actually felt like a home. All Logan had to do was smile at Billy, and suddenly, he had hope that one day, everything would be alright again.

And then one day, they were all on the beach, and a storm rolled in. The waves soon became too rough to swim or surf, and the thunder and lightning meant that it wasn't safe to stay in the ocean anyway, so the six of them grabbed their boards and ran for shelter under the boardwalk to wait it out. But the storm was strong, and it showed no signs of letting up any time soon, so they quickly became bored. Wayne and Tim got hungry, so they left their boards stuck in the sand and pulled on their shirts and flip flops to head up into the diner built into the boardwalk, saying they'd be back once they got a bite. Sid knew that his mother would be getting worried if she didn't hear from him with such a storm raging on, so he went to go find a payphone to tell her that he'd be home as soon as the storm let up. Argyle went with him, the two of them planning to light up a joint once Sid finished his call. And that, of course, left just Billy and Logan.

"So what now?" Logan asked as he stuck his board in the sand so that he could lean against it when he sat down. Billy followed his example as he answered with, "I don't know. I guess once Sid and Argyle get back, we could all go join the other two in the diner until the storm passes."

"I don't have my shirt with me, though, they won't let me in," Logan said.

"Aw, sucks to be you then, I guess," Billy teased, nudging Logan's shoulder as he grinned. Logan couldn't help but laugh as he nudged Billy back, and it made Billy feel all tingly inside.

After that, they stopped talking for a little bit, content to just sit there in each other's company and watch the storm. It was beautiful, the way two of nature's strongest forces were coming together and fighting against each other at the same time, and it was all happening before their very eyes. Lightning struck over the ocean and lit up the lilac and gray atmosphere, making the ground shake as it was quickly followed by a ferocious growl of thunder. It wasn't until after this deafening noise that Logan spoke again.

"Whoa, check this out!" He said, digging in the sand beside him before pulling something out and brushing the excess sand off of it. Then he placed it in the palm of his hand and reached over to show Billy what he'd found, his smile too big and infectious for it not to rub off on the other boy.

"What about it? It's just a sand dollar," Billy said, smiling even though he was confused.

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've ever found one outside of a gift shop," Logan said, turning the shell over and over in his hands and examining it as if it were made of pure gold.

"I guess that does make it more special," Billy agreed, watching his friend for a moment, but forcing himself to look back at the storm, trying to convince himself that it was more beautiful than the other boy.

After that, they slipped back into comfortable silence, and it was a few more minutes before Logan broke it again, holding out the shell to Billy and simply saying, "Here."

"What?" Billy asked back, looking between his friend and the shell in his hand, confused.

"I want you to have it," Logan said, taking Billy's hand and making him take the shell.

"No," Billy said, trying to give it back, "You were the one who found it and got all excited over it. It's special to you, you should keep it."

"True, but I want you to have it." Logan folded Billy's fingers over the shell, holding them there to make sure he couldn't give it back.

"Why?" Billy asked, his eyebrows scrunching together like he was trying to figure out a complex math problem in his head.

"Because I have something as special as this already, so I don't need it," Logan shrugged, still holding Billy's hand.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Billy asked, his stomach getting all fluttery and nauseous, but in a good way.

"I've got you," Logan said, and Billy hoped he wasn't reading it wrong as the other boy leaned in closer. But he wasn't stopping, and his eyes were locked on Billy's, and his smile only grew bigger until a second later it disappeared as his eyes started slipping shut.

Now, Billy had never kissed anyone else before, at least not like this. But he wasn't an idiot, and he knew what it looked like from movies and shows and stuff, and he was pretty sure this was going to be it. His heart began to speed in his chest and his mind went blank, and before he could get it back on track and talk himself out of it, he allowed himself to toss caution to the wind and meet Logan halfway.

And in that second, Billy's entire mind was blown completely away. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, like a big meal of all his favorite foods, like a long nap on a rainy afternoon, it was everything. Logan's lips were soft and tasted like salt from the ocean and like sunscreen and the mint chapstick he used and the vanilla ice cream cone he'd eaten earlier that day. It was slow and sweet, and even though Logan took control easily, he kept it that way. He took his time coaxing Billy's lips apart with his tongue, and only paused for a moment to turn his head to the side to get a better angle. Once he had it, he let his tongue delve inside Billy's mouth to explore, and let Billy take his time to do the same. Once he was confident enough, he did, and he used his tongue to feel around everything, from the roof of Logan's mouth to the softness of his tongue to the rigidness of that one crooked tooth. He couldn't do much with his hands at the moment, what with one holding the sand dollar and the other planted in the sand for balance, but Logan's were free, so he moved one to hold the one Billy was holding himself up with and the other to cradle Billy's face, making the other boy sigh softly. He was getting a little bit of sand on his cheeks, but Billy couldn't have cared less. This was the greatest thing that'd ever happened to him, and he was sure that it was the closest he'd ever get to heaven.

And then, all hell broke loose.

"Billy! C'mon, it's almost time to go ho-" Max called out for him as she wandered beneath the boardwalk, her rain jacket zipped up to her chin. She stopped short as soon as she saw her brother, lips locked with his best friend, and now as red as her hair as he whipped his head around to gape at her. "Uh, n-nevermind, I'll just go wait by the car."

Billy wanted to chase after her, but by the time he was able to scramble to his feet, she was gone. He'd completely forgotten about her as soon as he'd dropped her off at the boardwalk arcade, too caught up in his own friends and his own day out to worry about where she was. He'd only told her to come and get him when it was time to head home, since he didn't know what time it was without his watch on, and now, he was a complete and utter goner.

"Fuck!" He yelled as he raked a hand through his hair, trying desperately to figure a way out of this.

"Whoa, hey, Billy, calm down," Logan said, taking his hand from his hair before he yanked it out and gripping his shoulders to try and ground him. "Look, it's okay, you just have to talk to her on the way home. It'll be okay, I'm sure she won't tell anyone."

"But-" Billy tried to get a word in, but Logan cut him off.

"I don't regret it," he said, making sure to look Billy in the eyes. He knew how Billy got when he felt backed into a corner, and he didn't want him to come out fighting like an alley cat. "I meant it when I told you you were special to me, and I won't ever regret proving it to you. I know you're worried that Max will tell somebody what she saw, but I know her, and I know you, and I know that if you just talk to her, she'll keep it a secret. Maybe one day she won't have to, maybe one day we won't be scared to tell the guys or anybody else in the world, but until then, it'll be okay, because I'll never regret you."

And with that, Logan gave Billy one more peck on the lips, helped him breathe right, and then helped him get his board out of the sand so he could go. The rain was letting up a little by now, and as Billy approached his car, he saw Max standing beside it, waiting. He unlocked it and she climbed inside, and he stalled for a minute more as he tied his board to the roof, trying to come up with something to say to her. Finally, he couldn't stall any longer, and he sat down in the driver's seat, turning to look at her before he even put the keys in the ignition.

"You can't tell anybody about what you saw, understand?" He said, going for authoritative, but it only sounded scared. He still had the sand dollar in his hand, and he gripped it just a little bit harder to give him some confidence.

"Who would I tell?" She scoffed, and he knew her default mode was bitchy, but he still couldn't believe the audacity she had when she said it.

"I'm serious, Maxine!" Billy raised his voice, grabbing her shoulder with a firm grip, though he was careful not to hurt her. "If you tell somebody and it gets out, Logan and I are both pretty much dead. This doesn't go any further than the three of us or I will smother you in your sleep and dump your body in the ocean to be eaten by sharks, you got that?"

This time, Max didn't speak, she just nodded as Billy stared at her with angry, desperate eyes. Later on, as Billy drove them home, she finally voiced it, saying that she promised she wouldn't tell.

It wasn't even a full month later when she broke that promise.

Billy opened his eyes now, tears running down his cheeks, escaping along with a sigh as he remembered all this. The first boy, the first person, he'd ever truly loved more than himself, and exactly how he'd lost him. He remembered how after his dad had found out, he wasn't allowed out of the house until the move. How he hadn't spoken to Max for months, and was essentially mute until they arrived in Hawkins. How on the day they were supposed to leave, he didn't even tell her where they were going when he took a little detour on the way and left something in Logan's mailbox before heading for the highway.

It was the sand dollar from that day. He'd stuck it in a brown paper bag and wrote the other boy's name on it, also leaving a short note inside.

My dad's making us move. He won't tell me the new address, so I can't leave it for you. Anyway, since I'm not gonna be around anymore, I figured you'd need something special to replace me... Jesus, I don't know. That's corny as shit, but you get the gist. I'm sorry. -B

P.S. I'll never regret you, either.

Max had tried to apologize after all this had happened, but Billy never forgave her. He didn't want to. If she'd tried to say anything as they drove, he would just turn the music up louder to drown her out and pretend he didn't hear her. After a while, they kind of had to make up, but he still never fully let it go. He loved Logan, and all it took was one sentence shouted in the heat of the moment for Billy to lose him. He swore that he'd never get over it and let Max off the hook since she was the one who had caused it. And he swore that he'd never fall in love again as long as he lived.

But of course, he couldn't fucking help it. He was still hurting, pining for a boy clear across the country, when he met Steve, and it pissed him the fuck off that his traitorous heart began to flutter the second he did. He didn't want to feel like that about anyone ever again, and especially not so soon after he'd lost someone else. So he became mean. Downright vicious. He tried his best to prove his heart and his mind and his soul wrong by picking on Steve to the point of physical altercations, because he didn't want it to be true. He didn't want to face up to the fact that he was already falling for somebody again, when he wasn't even fully over the person before.

And then came the night at the Byers's house, when his dad had told him to get Max and bring her home, and Steve lied to him about knowing where she was. He knew he'd been nothing but a dick to Steve up until that point and that Steve probably assumed the anger issues would extend to Max so he was just trying to protect her, but still, something about the fact that he seemed so casual about lying made the knife in Billy's guts twist. So he struck first, pushing Steve over and going into the house to get Max, ready to drag her out by the hair if he had to. He just didn't want to be around anybody, he knew he would lash out, and he didn't want to actually hurt anyone. He wanted to get Max home and then go out to the woods or something and take his aggression out on something that couldn't hit him back, something that he wouldn't draw blood from if he hit it.

But then Steve came in and hit him first, and something had broken inside him, like a dam collapsing from the force of the river. He didn't hold back after that. He fought dirty, screaming and letting out everything he'd kept bottled up for months, including the tears. He cried as he beat Harrington's stupid face in, until the other boy was barely conscious on the floor. He didn't care about Max or his dad or anything else at that point, and once all the fight had left him, he got up and went out to his car, not looking back even once as he drove away, continuing to cry.

He didn't know where else to go, so he eventually wound up in the school's parking lot, near the outdoor basketball courts. He sat on the hood of his car when he got there, staring at the moon and still crying until the tears just stopped flowing. His knuckles hurt and his head even more so, but he didn't move, not even when another car pulled up next to him. He didn't care anymore. The only thing he had left to lose was his life, and he wasn't even sure why he was still holding onto that anymore, so what did it matter if he lost that too?

It was Harrington that got out of the car and walked up to Billy, sitting down next to him on the hood of his car.

"What do you want?" Billy asked him after a few minutes, still refusing to look at him.

"Just to see how you're doing," Steve said, shrugging casually as if this were just a regular conversation on a Tuesday morning.

"Peachy, thanks," Billy replied, trying to get up, but Steve grabbed his wrist, refusing to let him.

"No you're not. The kids told me you were crying as you beat me to a bloody pulp, and Max told me it probably had something to do with something that happened back in California. And since I'm the guy who you almost gave a second concussion to, I think that I at least deserve to know why," he said, his face serious and upset, but not angry.

"Well, you were mistaken. I don't owe you shit, Harrington," Billy said, yanking his hand away as if he'd been burned.

"True, but you do owe me an explanation." Steve said, crossing his arms, but refusing to move from the hood of the car. "C'mon, man, you did nothing but pull my pigtails for the past few weeks and then you rearranged my face tonight, and I want to know why."

Billy had just stared at him for a minute, not sure of what to do. He knew he couldn't tell Harrington anything, not unless he wanted to either move again or wind up six feet under, but then again, he was just so tired. He was tired of being afraid of himself, tired of running away from his past and away from his future, tired of fighting so hard. It's not like he had much to live for anyway, not like he could just get up and go back to California, back to Logan, back to the guys, back to being happy. He was trapped in a prison of his own fuck ups, and his father was the warden. He knew he couldn't fight him, and he knew he couldn't escape. So why keep trying? Why not just give up the fight and let everybody else win? It sure would be a hell of a lot easier than whatever this shit was.

"You wanna know my life story, Harrington? Wanna know all my dirty little secrets? Fine." Billy finally relented, sliding off the hood of the car and opening the door on the passenger's side. "Get in."

Steve obeyed the order, a slight confused crease to his brows, but he didn't say anything. He just climbed in and buckled his seatbelt, waiting as Billy did the same. He rolled down the windows, even though the night was already cold enough, and then he drove them away, sticking to the back roads as they rode through the darkness.

"Where are we going?" Steve had asked.

"Nowhere," Billy replied, too done with everything to even make a stupid joke, let alone lie. "Driving helps me think, so."

Steve nodded after that, and everything was quiet again. There was no tape in the player right now, and Billy had turned off the radio, so it was only the sound of the engine that accompanied them as they drove. Billy didn't know where to start, didn't know if he should tell about everything, but he'd promised all his dirty secrets, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. So he didn't worry about it, and just started at the beginning.

"My dad had loved me, once." He said, stopping at a red light. He waited until it flashed green to continue. "When I was a baby, I mean. He loved me, and so did my mom. They were happy, and so was I."

"So what changed?" Steve asked, his voice small, as if he were afraid to ask. Maybe he was.

"My dad got drafted. Went to 'Nam and kicked Charlie's ass. Only problem was, he got kicked back. When he came home after four years, he was different. Loud, and mean, and it drove mom away. She didn't bother to take me with her." Billy said, shrugging.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't love you," Steve said, but again it was tentative, like maybe he didn't want to assume but was going to anyway. "I mean, lots of military guys go away to fight and come back a little bit meaner, that doesn't mean they don't still love their wives and kids."

"You're not listening to me, Harrington." Billy bit out, a little harsher than he needed to maybe, but he didn't care. "I could handle it if he was just mean. But when he tells me everyday that I'm a mistake and a waste of oxygen and that he should've made my mom abort me when he had the chance, and he's beating me up while he does it, I think I can take the hints better than you can."

That stunned Steve into silence, and Billy, too. He was still having trouble figuring out why he had even started talking to Steve in the first place rather than telling him to just fuck off, but even if he did figure it out, there was no going back now. And if he really thought about it, Billy did know, he was just too stubborn to admit it. He wanted to be able to talk to someone, anyone, about what was going on. Maybe they wouldn't be able to make it stop, but at least they would know, and he could talk to them about it when things started getting bad again. He just hoped that he'd picked the right person to trust.

"I'm sorry that that happens to you," Steve finally said after a while, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead instead of looking at Billy.

"I don't give a shit, Harrington," Billy shook his head, his own eyes feeling a little misty as he swallowed to try and keep it back, "I'm not telling you this because I want your pity."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because you asked," Billy said, his voice flat, "And you're the first person that ever bothered to."

That seemed to stun Steve again for a second, but he nodded afterwards, seeming to understand it a lot quicker than he did the last thing. But to be fair, that statement was a lot less complicated than the ones previous.

"Is that why you got so mad earlier? Because of your dad?" He asked, looking at his lap now.

"It was a big part of it," Billy said, biting his lip at another red light before he kept going. "The other part was just you."

"What did I do?" Steve asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Well, part of it was because you lied to me like I said. I don't know what you were doing with Max and those kids in that house and right now I couldn't give less of a shit, but you gotta admit that it was kinda creepy. I'm supposed to bring her home safe or else I'm in trouble, and finding her alone in a house in the woods with three teenage boys and an adult man is pretty fuckin' weird. Not that Max really deserves me protecting her after all the shit she's done to me, but like I said, it wasn't her I had to worry about."

"So that was part of it, and obviously when I punched you was when you snapped, but did I do anything else?" Steve asked, and it surprised Billy a little bit. He actually sounded regretful.

"Kind of, but you couldn't help it," Billy said, finally making a U-turn and heading back towards town. He was about to pour his heart out to Steve and he didn't need him in his car any longer than he had to be if the other boy got upset.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked again, his big hazel eyes boring into the side of Billy's head as he tried to stay focused on the road. But it was getting difficult, so even though he wanted to keep driving, he pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. He still didn't turn to look at Steve, but he didn't need to. Steve could still see how nervous he was by the tremor in his hands on the steering wheel and gear shift.

"Look, I'm gonna tell you," he started, "But if you're going to kill me for it, please just wait until I've said everything I want to say. I don't wanna die with a guilty conscience, y'know?"

Steve was confused. Confused and concerned. But still, he nodded. Billy sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the roof of the car, his expression mostly blank as he started to speak again.

"Like I said, it wasn't exactly something that you could help," he said, blinking slowly, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to reopen his eyes. "It was just kind of you in general that set me off. You and your preppy clothes and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes. I've had a crush on you from the first moment I saw you that day in the parking lot, and it pissed me off, because the whole reason we had to move to this shit stain of a town was because I felt the same way about another boy that I felt about you. Max saw us one day and swore she'd never tell anyone about it, but then a few weeks later we were fighting about something or other and she said "at least I don't have to hide under the boardwalk if I want to kiss a boy". My dad overheard and he beat me so bad, I thought I was gonna die. I honestly kind of wish I would've. He broke my wrist and locked me in my room for the three months that it took to heal and by the time it did, he already had the boxes packed. We moved out here and I didn't even get to say goodbye to Logan. All I could do was leave him a shitty note in his mailbox that I don't even know if he read. And I made a promise to myself that I would never fall in love with anyone again as long as I lived, because it would only end in broken hearts and sadness and a painful, painful death. But not even a full day later I drove up to my new school and I saw you and that promise went right out the fucking window."

Billy paused after sighing out the last word, wishing he hadn't smoked his last cigarette on the drive to the house in the woods. He wished he could say that he felt like shit, but really, right now, he didn't even feel at all. He had completely given up, on everything.

"Anyway, that's why I was such a bitch to you," he finally ended with, "I couldn't stand you because I could already feel myself falling for you, and I didn't want to after everything that happened, especially when I'm not even over Logan yet. But he's a thousand miles away and you're... well, it's not like you'd want to date a train wreck with an ex they're still in love with and more daddy issues than there is sand on a beach, especially not if it's me, so yeah. If you wanna kill me or something now, feel free, I don't care anymore. To tell you the truth, I'd probably thank you, since I don't have the fucking balls to do it myself."

"Maybe not," Steve said after a few seconds of silence, his tone oddly serious and not freaked out or angry, "But you've got the courage to keep living even after all you've been through, and that takes a hell of a lot more balls than just giving up and dying."

Billy didn't have an answer to that. He wasn't even sure he had the strength to nod and acknowledge that words had even been passed. So he just closed his eyes in response, barely even registering the tears that rolled out as he did.

"And for what it's worth," Steve continued, his voice still firm, "I'm sorry about that boy, Logan. Neither of you deserved what happened to you."

"It doesn't matter if we deserved it or not," Billy said finally, opening his eyes and sitting up a little, "We both knew the risks we were taking. We should've known it couldn't've lasted."

"That doesn't make it right," Steve said, and Billy scoffed at that, shaking his head with a sour, condescending smirk on his face.

"Yeah, well," he said, "It still doesn't matter. Right, wrong, who gives a shit? That's just how it is. He's probably forgotten all about me by now anyway."

"If he loved you as much as you loved him, I don't think he would. Even if he didn't, you're still pretty hard to forget." Steve paused, his voice growing more timid as he finished with, "God knows I haven't been able to."

"Well of course you haven't, I've made your life hell ever since I moved here," Billy said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"That's not what I meant," Steve said, his hand twitching as if he were debating whether to grab Billy's, but ultimately, he didn't. "I meant that even before you started picking on me, I thought about you all the time. At first I thought that it was because you were so confident and impressing all the girls and kind of taking my place at the top, but that wasn't it. I'm not gonna kiss you right now, because I don't think that would fix anything like it does in the movies. Hell, it'd probably only make things worse. But you should know that you aren't the only one with a crush, and even if nothing comes from me telling you this, I just want you to know that we don't have to fight anymore, and I'm here, even if you just need someone to talk to."

Billy finally looked at him now that he was done talking, not sure whether to trust the other boy yet. He wanted to more than anything, but it was all too easy. Nothing that came this easily could be trusted. He'd had to learn that lesson a long time ago. Steve looked sincere, and he sounded like he meant it, too. But still, Billy was wary, and Steve must've been able to see that, because he said, "You don't have to believe me. But if I could prove to you that I mean it, would you at least keep an open mind?"

And Billy had nodded. Like a complete fucking idiot.

Now, it was months later, and Steve had proven himself. He listened when Billy needed him to, and would talk to fill the silences that Billy couldn't stand. He would surprise Billy with little gifts just because he felt like it, just to be able to see him smile, and he would take him on dates to the diner under the guise of just two friends hanging out, but they knew the truth. He would get angry on Billy's behalf whenever he had a bruise or cut on his face or came to him on the brink of tears, but would put the anger aside to take care of him when he needed it.

When he kissed Billy for the first time a few weeks later, he made sure he asked first, because he didn't want to overstep any boundaries and scare him. He made sure that Billy was okay once it was over, and he made sure to let him lead so that he knew for sure everything that happened was what Billy wanted. He did the same things the first time they had sex together, too, to make sure that Billy was okay with everything that they did. It had been his first time with anybody, let alone with a boy, but Steve didn't mock him for it, just made sure to take things slow and talk to him to make sure it was good. He gave Billy all the care and adoration that he needed so desperately, and he didn't ask for anything in return, because he just loved Billy that much.

At least, he thought he did.

Billy screwed his eyes shut again as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, tossing away the burned out butt of his cigarette and burying his face in his hands as he took in a shaky breath. He could feel his lip wobbling like he was a little kid again, and he choked on a sob as the tears started falling faster and faster. He hated when he cried like this, but sometimes, he just couldn't help it. It just wasn't fair. It seemed like every time he started to hope again, every time he began to feel happy, it just got torn away for no reason.

Maybe it was just him. He was the one who kept thinking he could have good things and jumping into them with both feet instead of remembering how bad things always turned out the last time. It was like his entire existence was a curse, and he just didn't know how to break it.

So he let himself cry like this, every once in a while. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. Today it actually helped so much that he didn't even realize there was somebody at his window until they'd already crawled inside through it and dropped down to sit next to him. When he finally did notice, it was everything he could do not to cry harder and kick him out.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out when he saw Steve sitting next to him.

"I wanted to see you," he said, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I didn't like how we left things yesterday."

"You shouldn't be here," Billy mumbled, more to himself than to Steve, though.

"Yes I should. I need to know why you got so upset when I told you I was leaving," Steve said, leaning forward to try and catch Billy's eye. Billy wanted to look at him, he was adorable right now. Still wearing his cut off pajama bottoms that he wore in the summer and a loose t-shirt and with his hair all tousled and unruly, he was so cute. But Billy knew if he looked at him like that, he wouldn't be able to stay mad, and he didn't want to let it go that easily just to still end up hurt in the end.

"Because you're leaving. You're going to be somewhere else and I don't even know where that's gonna be. And you didn't even think to tell me about it until two days before it was set to happen. Tomorrow, you're going to leave and then that's it." Billy said, his eyes still stinging from the mixture of tears and exhaustion.

"I'm going to Pennsylvania for college. But that's not going to be it for us, I promise you. I fucking love you and I'm not gonna lose you, no matter what." Steve replied, and Billy couldn't help but scoff again.

"How are we gonna do that when we won't even be able to keep in contact? You can't call here or write me letters or else my dad'll know, and I won't know how to get in touch with you. So please, enlighten me, how is that going to work?"

"I want you to come with me."

Billy stopped short the second he heard the words, his eyes going wide as he struggled to voice what he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure he knew what he wanted to say. But he had to say something.

"Wh-what?" He finally managed to squeak out, shaking his head as he tried to wrap it around the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

"I want you to come with me." Steve repeated, "That's why I waited so long to tell you, because then we could leave just out of nowhere and no one would be able to follow us. I want to get out of here, but I want you with me. And you're 18 now, so you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. If you want to come with me, I wanted to give you time to get ready, but not enough time for you dad to notice until we're already long gone. I love you and I want you to come with me because I want to get both of us out of here, hopefully for good."

Billy couldn't say he was shocked, necessarily, but he still didn't know what to say. He wanted to cry, he wanted to fling himself at Steve and kiss him stupid, he wanted to get dressed and leave right now and never look back. But he didn't. Instead, he just stared at him, looking for any trace of a lie on his face. But there was none, only sincerity and hope and love. It was almost too much.

"I don't want to stay here," he finally whispered, unable to bring himself to say the actual words. He couldn't force them to come out of his mouth, but Steve heard them anyway. What Billy wanted, more than anything, was to go with him.

"Then we can pack your things later on today once your parents leave for work, and I'll be here at this time tomorrow to get it into the car. We'll leave and be in Harrisburg before they even know we're gone." Steve promised, reaching out and placing a hand on Billy's cheek, holding him. He smiled, a tiny thing that seemed too delicate for Billy having been the one to put it there. Billy leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing out a quiet, "Okay."

After that, it was quiet again, the two of them shifting closer and holding each other, wanting to be close even though the body heat had them sweating. Neither of them cared as they grabbed some pillows from Billy's bed and laid out on the floor, cuddling with their limbs tangled together in a complex pretzel twist. One of Steve's arms was under the pillow and supporting his head, and Billy laid his own on Steve's shoulder, pressing them together from head to toe. Billy was still exhausted, so he immediately started to drift off as Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead, using his other hand to card his fingers in Billy's hair and massage his scalp, helping to coax him into slumber.

"I really do love you, you know," he whispered, shifting so that a ray of sunshine wasn't hitting Billy directly in the face and hindering his rest.

"I really do love you, too," Billy mumbled back, snuggling even closer to his boyfriend for as long as he could.

They'd have to untangle themselves in a few minutes so that Steve could leave before Neil and Susan woke up, but they were going to take every spare minute that they could get. It made Billy smile in his sleep as he thought that, pretty soon, they wouldn't need to mind the minutes. Pretty soon, they'd have all the time in the world.

[zebee-nyx]

CalmWriMo Day 18

[11/18/2023]

Update!

Cozy day at home. Feels like it's been forever since I've had a light day like this to just chill out. Honestly spent more time than I prob should've just listening to youtube and playing minecraft for the first time in awhile. ('0.0) But also worked on writing stuff! So the day wasn't entirely lost to my gaming addiction lol. Did some more character interview things, cause at this point it's fun and helps me figure out the characters! Also did some work on the prologue, but agh, def not getting it done this weekend. It is mostly drafted aside from one weird gap in the middle that I need to plug with a paragraph. (-.-) Going to do that tmr then take a break from that for a week to freshen the mind a touch before going back and doing editing and what not. In the mean time gonna start the drafting for the first part of the story! Which is a mix of exciting and harrowing. [got no idea what I'm doing aside from a vaguely outlined plan lol, way more adjusted to worldbuilding and characters than I am on plot stuff…. Something I need to work on but know the most common way of learning is to completely flub it and I really don’t want to flub it lol… rambling, sorry!]

Progress:

2 Hour Writing Goal: ✅

Blurb: [see below]

Self Care:

Food: ✅

Hydration: ✅

Sleep: ❌[somehow managed to fall asleep while reading a webtoon... half woke up about an hour later to finish reading before actually getting to sleep lol]

Reading: ✅

Blurb: The Undercity

The "Undercity" is the term used to describe the more densely populated and neglected sectors of Neocago City. These regions are mostly located around the southern and outer western parts of the city. Aside from a few scattered and walled off corporate run neighborhoods surrounding factories and other corporate properties the undercity is a lawless place. Buildings are fused as they were haphazardly built atop one another in a completely unplanned way to accommodate rapid unfettered urbanization over the last few decades. Many of these buildings have prefabricated rooms at their core that have been buried by whatever construction materials were available.

Roofed alleyways are covered in trash that will never be collected. The pathways between buildings are almost always wet from a mix of rainwater and water from leaky pipes draining through the various layers of buildings above. Random cables feeding down from rooftop solar panels hang above the streets, following along the paths in thick bundles. People often simply splice into the cables to syphon off power for their businesses or homes as they need forming webs of wires chaotically stretching around over streets and alleys. Many narrow ground level streets are lined with neon signs advertising small local businesses. Some streets have become de facto "retrofitted" into public markets that have street vendor carts. While not necessarily on every surface possible, graffiti isn't uncommon.

Most places around the undercity fall with in the territories of one gang or another who for their credit often try to maintain some level of order and basic essential public services. Services such as shifting garbage away from the local area, "protection", and extinguishing the occasional fire. For the most part security firms [basically privately owned cops for hire, more on this some other time] are absent so nearly everyone in the undercity is armed in some way in the likely event they need to defend themselves. Although typically if one just keeps there head down and doesn't start anything they are relatively safe.

As one travels nearer toward the edge of Neocago the undercity becomes less developed, less populated, and less livable overall with some sections being more or less abandoned. In these places the borders between what is the undercity and the junkyards surrounding the city begin to blur. Sparsely hidden away in the more abandoned areas are indoor gardens that grow food kept away from prying eyes that may attempt to steal meals as well as valuable plants. Some places in these border areas have become mysterious dead zones where few who enter are ever seen nor heard from again.

The population of the undercity is mostly laborers, service industry workers, "service" workers, or unemployed with some small local shop owners sprinkled around. Near universally however, everyone has their vice. This part of the city has also become somewhat attractive to lower level runners, who often thrive in the absence of security firms and high need for people to do odd jobs.

In more developed regions of the undercity buildings are even built over roads which causes an intresting little phenomenon. These areas don't get sunlight and as a result have become immune to the fact that the sun is indeed a deadly laser. Following this little quirk these portions of the undercity usually never sleep and are always a bustling place of foot traffic and commerce.

In essence the undercity is nearly around sixteen million minds all working in their own interests, often intersecting and conflicting with others as there is little overall organized coordination. The aesthetics of this region are heavily governed by that as millions of little self serving adjustments are made to the environment each day.

[WOOOO!!! Love me some worldbuilding! lol (>v<) For the next week the blurbs will be about different areas in and around Neocago and honestly I'm going to have an absolute blast writing about it all! (^.^) Anyways and always, hope you are having a lovely day, peace (^V^)v]

[coolcattime]

coolcat I agree! Sonja could definitely empathize with Martha’s feelings, which is why she should’ve been there during her nightmare with Wag n Jordan rather than Tucker. Because of her “new” found critical nature towards the gods, Sonja would not try to fix Martha’s insecurity through pledging herself to her like the guys did. Also, I’m pretty sure that Wag is Martha’s champion so that would truly leave Sonja as the odd one out.

The way that being “second best” affects Sonja and Capsize is very different and equally interesting, because Sonja knows she isn’t favored but her god is also a pretty absent one so it can be easy to pretend otherwise. While Capsize’s own goddess is imprisoned, she still favored Capsize out of every other Ianerian but gets overshadowed by Jordan, and that’s not something she really understands why. Basically, Capsize views Ianite through rose colored glasses and Sonja is very overtly pessimistic about the gods in general.

And yes to Capsize feeling conflicted with Ianite after getting revived, like I think any attention/ affection that Ianite gives Capsize after being revived would feel artificial to her (even if Ianite is being sincere). like “you’re using me as a stand in because he isn’t here right now”, Capsize would still do whatever Ianite asks of her but Capsize would probably start reaching out to her goddess less and less.

Oh I definitely think Sonja should've been in Martha's nightmare. Like there's something so interesting about how Sonja could try and help with her insecurities by genuinely relating to feeling similar feelings as opposed to trying to support her as a goddess.

And Wag is Martha's champion, though he doesn't start out as one so I imagine there's some talking between them at the begin of Season 2 of how the gods kinda suck (because I'm pretty sure its canon that the Season 1 wizards all killed a god together), which then becomes very ironic when Wag pledges himself to Martha when she becomes a god.

Oh there's definitely a difference in how being second best affects Sonja and Capsize. Sonja obviously knows that Tucker is Mianite's favourite, but it's not like he's getting much out of that deal. It hurts, but she also really doesn't expect anything from the gods.

But with Capsize, it's like something was something was taken away. Ianite did favour her. She was given communication and magic, and then there was Jordan and she just doesn't get it. But she doesn't believe it's because Ianite prefers Jordan, it can't be that. She's so sure that her Lady wouldn't overly favour her champion, not after everything she's done for her.

Honestly, post-revival Capsize is something I want to focus on and write about so much, because I have so many ideas. Because Capsize can't see her goddess in the same way anymore. Her brain is kind of a mess for quite a while, a mix of memory lost and trauma, and making sense of the timeskip that's kind of been inflicted on her. But she keeps coming back to the idea that Jordan wouldn't have ended up dead in the same position. She can't tell if it's an intrusive thought, or something she heard at some point, but it keeps coming back into her head. And there's no really much Ianite can say to quell her thoughts.

There's a time when she would've loved the attention and praise, but the time has passed and it'll be a long time before she can feel comfort with it again.