#i woke up to this so i feel very blessed lol

[rininis]

231023 | Xiao Zhan Studio Weibo

Xiao Zhan for Gucci Horsebit 1953 loafer

[willkimurashat]

✨AB✨ is in the house!!! It’s like looking in the mirror lol😅 (only if i were cooler, which I am not)

[jeonqkooks]

a little taste | jjk (m.)

the one with just the tip.

[ ‘ a little taste ’ series masterpost ]

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, smut (pwp), unprotected s✩x (this is fictional, don't do it irl folks), cre✩mpie, jungoo is an ✩ss grabber, he's also a lil shit, 2 secs of dirty talk?, swearing, they're both frustrated lol, zero editing pls forgive me

word count: 1.3k

note: happy sunday errbody! we got a surprise ALT drop 🥳 i have no excuse, i woke up this morning and wrote this in one sitting before i even got out of bed lmao. have fun all u horndawgs <3

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

You know how you got here, and the reason is very stupid.

It always starts with a meaningless discussion, really.

You two were having a quiet night in, cuddling on the couch and watching a rerun of your favorite TV show when a raunchy joke popped up, which somehow (because bless Jungkook’s brain and his useless ability to jump from point A all the way to point Z in a blink of an eye) led to the infamous “Just the Tip” debate.

You were taking the Negative, for obvious reasons, and he was on the Affirmative side. Jungkook wasn’t arguing that all men could handle themselves when their literal dick is inside of a woman; more so that he, this one specific individual, easily could.

And you suppose that’s why you’re here, trying to settle the argument, the both of you naked from the waist down. His hard cock pokes at your entrance as his eyes twinkle with a mischievous glint. Jungkook is always so competitive, but he sometimes forgets that you are too, and you’ll try your goddamn hardest to make sure he loses this one.

Okay, maybe it’s not just a silly little debate. It might have escalated into a silly little bet, one that involves the loser having to fold the laundry for a whole month.

Which so happens to be your least favorite chore.

Which only gives you more incentive to win.

Men are simple creatures, how hard can this be?

You bite your lip as he pushes in, just the tip, then stills. The stretch is a little dry at first, and a tad uncomfortable. You barely prepped before both of your shorts flew off somewhere in favor of you wanting to prove a point. Jungkook’s fingers slip through your folds to find your clit, fondling the nub until he could feel you getting wetter by the second, coating the tip of his cock in your slick.

“Ready to lose?” you ask coyly, to which he only responds with a playful scoff before he pulls his hips back, nearly slipping out of you in the process. He bucks forward again, and you can already tell that he’s trying to hold back, to be mindful of how shallow his thrusts have to be lest he wants to give you a few more inches than necessary.

“Fuck,” a tiny, whiny, moan escapes your lips, barely audible to your own ears but Jungkook catches it. He smirks at you triumphantly, never stopping his movements down there. God, you’re really not used to this. Whenever you two are on each other, it’s always hard and unrestrained, purely focused on making the other feel as good as possible.

How the hell is he so good at this? 

Maybe you should’ve known. What can’t Jungkook do?

You keep expecting more every time he pulls back, anticipating that his cock will fill you to the brim like it always does. But then he gives you just the fucking tip - which you suppose is fair; that’s the whole point of this idiotic bet after all - and you swear you could burst from frustration.

Jungkook senses your inner turmoil, how you’re trying to keep yourself from begging him to fuck you silly. You can’t say you’re surprised when he tugs his t-shirt over his head - in that insanely hot way that guys do! - and throws it recklessly across the room, flexing his abs and biceps at you. It’s like his tattoos have a mind of their own, the intricate ink winking at you with his every move like it’s mocking you, tempting you.

What’s on the line again?

Oh, right, laundry. Fuck!

You’re positively dripping with arousal, a want - no, a need - that he just won’t satiate. “That’s not fair,” you complain, even though your hands are already reaching for him, pulling him closer so you could touch him all over. 

“Who said anything about fair?” he says before he kisses you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips to taste you. He moans against your mouth as his fingers sneak down to squeeze your bare ass.

So he wants to play dirty? Well, you can do dirty too.

You time his thrusts so that when he ruts forward, you clench around his cock. 

That’s when you feel it. Him, deeper and throbbing inside of you.

For the first time since this started, you have the upper hand.

You break the kiss only to narrow your eyes at him. “That felt like more than just the tip,” you purr.

Jungkook groans, but it sounds more like a growl than anything. Okay, he’s really competitive. His hands dig into your ass so roughly that you’re pretty sure it will bruise in the morning. His hips stop moving entirely, trapping his cock within your walls where it’s achingly, deliciously hard.

You can practically feel his self-control slipping away, and all over a single clench?!

It might’ve taken you a bit longer than expected but alas, men are simple creatures.

You squeeze around him again, just for kicks. “What’s the matter, baby?” you tease, enjoying the way his eyebrows knit together tightly, almost like he’s angry. “Ready to admit defea– Oh!”

Then, that motherfucker shuts you right up. Jungkook shoves his whole length inside of you until he bottoms out, aided by the wetness that gushes out of you. He gives you a single grunt as the base of his cock rubs against your clit, the tension in your belly amping up tenfold when you feel him, so fucking deep in you because that’s where he belongs. This is what you wanted.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he mocks you with a sly smirk, though he doesn’t give you any time to answer before he starts fucking you with fervor, pounding you into the couch - or the next dimension - like he’s got a personal vendetta.

“I– fuck–!” If you could formulate a coherent response, you would shoot him back a retort - You lost! - but whoops, all rational thought flew out the window the second he rewarded you with his cock. It’s absolutely insane how easily he’s able to render you speechless just like that.

You struggle to even moan his name, for crying out loud. Jungkook holds your legs open so he could fuck you better, the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot with every thrust, sending you embarrassingly quickly to the edge you’ve been looking for. You hold onto him for dear life, nails digging into his shoulders and making him grunt from the added pain. It’s right there, you’re so close…

“C’mon,” he purrs, ducking down to suck a mark into the skin of your neck, “come for me. I know you want to.”

Just a few more thrusts and you’re falling right into that sea of bliss that awaits you at the bottom of the cliff. You come hard around his cock as a shout rips itself free from your throat - not even of his name, or anything in particular - and Jungkook is falling right behind you. He empties himself inside of you with a broken moan, warm ropes of his cum painting your velvety walls white. 

You hold onto each other like that for a while longer, neither of you caring about how his softening cock is letting your combined release trickle out of you and onto the material of the couch. You play with his hair as he kisses your neck softly, and when he finally props himself up on his forearms to look down at you, there’s something so sweet in his gaze that makes you flush all over.

It almost makes you forget about what you’ve been playing for. Rationality starts crawling back in again after the dicking down you just had.

Almost being the keyword. Too bad for your boyfriend though.

“I won,” you say happily, giving him your brightest grin.

“Did you really win though?” he asks, eyes narrowing playfully at you. Always the negotiator, this one. “Or did you want me to fuck you so badly that I let you win?”

“I won. You said just the tip and then you gave me your whole dick. Now prepare to fold the laundry for a whole month.”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 14.05.2023]

[the-moon-files]

The Chain being Down Bad🐕‍🦺™️ for Your Voice lol (Masc!Reader)

(Content under ✄----- )

@peepthatbish once again, our lovely muse peep (name twins!!) Has come to bless me, and hopefully i did that gorgeous idea justice, and dw im not done writing them all out yet :)

<333

Sun: Masculine Reader (he/him)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: a dash of everybody <3

(except rare ones like Fierce/Koridai/Courage/Sage/etc.)

☆

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: fluff & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if i missed any. /gen

Ok but like

Ur voice is absolutely iconic to them

(Like the fairy fountain theme or the appearance of the Master sword, its unimaginable to them for your to not sound like that)

And its not only the heroes of Hyrule, but anyone else who could hear you

Well it helps that it used to be ur only sort of external sign of presence to outsiders

(the Links could also somewhat "feel" you in their own chests sometimes, like when u were stressed over a boss, or sad over a cutscene)

The only others who usually hear you are mostly things like the Great Fairies, the Deku Tree, other weird ass beings that know way too much (Fierce Deity)

So needless to say, when u first crash landed thru a portal into Wild's Hyrule (ur latest Zelda game you've played u guess thats why)

And the Chain had seen u in the distance, met up with you to try and help what they thought was some poor guy who accidentally fell thru Hylia's portals

But as they heard u stutter thru an introduction, instead they knew immediately it was you

Sky and Twi seriously teared up, Hyrule/Wild/Four/Wind all attacked you with a hug and excited shrieking, Legend and Wars were just gaping in shock, and Time was just staring at you

It took you a minute to pinpoint who was from what game, but as soon as you figured it out u literally jaw dropped at Time/Wild/Twi/etc.

(The ones that look different from their in game model or way better irl than graphics could ever capture)

U also may have screamed. A very manly scream. Not high pitched at all. You didnt make Legend cover his ears or the four that tackled u scramble off in fear, what- haha

(U cant blame urself, u were in literal shock, bc that's ALL the LINKS??!! Like u needed a shock blanket like rescue/ambulances gives ppl)

After calming down, it wasnt even an outright discussion or decision u could rlly choose,

They were basically kidnapping u along for the ride, also u were there for them (in pretty voice alone but still) for all their adventures,

So u even suggesting leaving u behind bc u couldnt keep up as well as them had them looking at you like they never even considered it

(And also making them individually go thru the 5 stages of grief: 😨😟😡😭🥺🙏🙏 they were all outright begging u, in their own ways, deadass by the end of it)

So as u travel, you get to understand the full impact of Your Voice, or the Guide's Voice™️.

If anyone has a nightmare, what would normally take another hero poking them with a stick and dodging the reflex punch, or them waking up unable to go back to sleep after having the nightmare, etc.

U quickly realized only took you talking to comfort them, with no reflex punch when they woke up, if they woke up, sometimes u were so good at it the nightmare just cleared ended according to their face

In your first battle against the shadow, along with lots of black-blooded monsters, u realized how much more confidently every Link fought as soon as you were speaking from behind them

They got even better and less stressed abt fighting when u managed to crack a few jokes or go toe to toe verbally with the Shadow lol

Legend outright guffawed when you pulled a dumb "sigh... well i guess... maybe... ur mom." joke in response to his villain monologue, like wiping a tear and everything, saying "u used to say that all the time after dumb long evil speeches, its a fucking classic" 💀

Literally will have them asking you to make more jokes bc it makes them feel better in tense situations/battles (most to least frequently: Sky, Wild, Hyrule, Wind, Twi, Time, Wars, Legend, Four) but they love it equally

Okay but,

U have Definitely. Sent chills down their spines when u get into lower ranges lol

U dont understand why everyone needs to talk to you so bad first thing in the morning,

or alternatively why they keep wanting you to go on a rant abt ur fav book/tv show/thing either???

U are always the last for story time at the campfire every night, and unlike the others, they refuse to let you take a night off, u have to say smth every night??

It amazes u they like ur voice so much, huh, Wild/Twi/Wars/Four/Hyrule must all be getting a little too close to the fire, theyre faces are looking a little red/pink

(Legend and Time just look rlly pleased/happy to be here, they only ever look a little overheated when u specifically look at them while ur talking/or tell a story abt them, and they usually are always the ones asking u another question to prompt u to keep going forever)

Wars may or may not have a life changing moment he told u abt ur voice on his adventures where Cia was like, "Ah Link... let me get a good look at you..."

Link: 😰🤢🥲

You: "... and girl, I am only looking at your tiddies right now."

If Wars had smth to drink right then he wouldve spit-taked.

It was like the one time he was caught so genuinely off-guard, and u just made him suddenly feel 10x more comfortable facing her, he literally couldnt keep his knight trained composure together, he had to lean on his knees he was crying with laughter

That was the first Cia heard of you too and she literally audibly gasped lmao

It was like all of a sudden Wars and Cia had been in on a joke no one else could hear around them (Shiek/Zelda is confused to this day by that)

And there are countless moments like this from each of their adventures where u did this, u cant help but feel mildly embarassed when u hear it at first

But then seeing how much ur voice and comments meant to them and how happy it made them u can help but want to talk more and more and more

Youve never felt more comfortable talking to this many people in ur entire life,

Bc u can literally see their elf ears twitching cutely when they pick up ur voice

BEST BELIEEEVVEEEE

u arent getting out of singing to them.

Yeah, sorry, theyve heard u sing ur fav songs while gaming too many times, they need to hear u sing irl, Now.

Most of them ignore or sort of passively enjoy bards/musicians on their journeys, but as soon as u so much as hum-

Its like they're all clambering to get closer to hear u, but also not make u aware thats what theyre doing, so they end up just:

Four/Legend/Hyrule trying to hide behind various (upside down) books, behind plants that're not that bushy, or one memorable time, when u sang "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" quietly to urself, a bard's tune got close and reminded u of it,

and Four fully threw his hammer on his toes bc he was so shocked/lovestruck, he completely missed the anvil and just threw it at the ground/his feet LMAO

Time and Wars, cheeky strategists they are, immediately fall back behind u wherever u are, so u cant see them, but they can still hear u lol

(Theyre the only ones youve not caught actively listening/straining to come closer to hear u... bc theyre behind u lol)

Wild/Sky/Twi all fully whip their heads around fast enough to crack it, then clumsily try to recover so u wont stop

Wild/Sky just fully accidentally like fall into lakes/ponds trying to stay just out of range or even (they both tried it once, and never again after u got onto them) got on a rooftop

And fell. When u got quieter they tried to get closer and- yep.

(Idiots were fine and smiling when u came to check on them)

Twilight.

Twilight's the worst ngl.

Just fully stares in awe at you until u stop out of embarassment, and has had the audacity multiple times to pop up as Wolfie and just happily listen like you havent also been thru the adventure that literally made him a werewolf

Wind is a cutie, he always joins in, esp when he recognizes the song, and since they can somehow remember the songs u sang while gaming, it will never not be a core memory for you to sing "Drunken Sailor" back to back with "I LOVE YOU HOE" by ODETARI (ft.9lives)

with Wind Waker Link.

You nearly died when you heard him singing the chorus, like literally right after drunken sailor 💀

(Its catchy u got it stuck in ur head from tiktok audios)

(Wind absolutely makes fun of the others for being in love with ur voice, like he'll trick u into ranting abt smth late at night when ur voice is husky or ur just low energy atm, and then from behind you just mouth at the rest of them, sitting looking up at you like ur an angel,

G A Y Y Y Y 🫵🫵🫵 )

☆

Sorry to anyone whose sent in stuff to my mailbox! I promise ill answer u tomorrow!!

Im acc running another blog for a diff fandom and i got busy today :/

BUT THANK U SM AND I LOVE YOU TO ANYONE WHO SENT STUFF IN !! <3333

Like, i would write a fic for u tysm for showing me ur interest bc it feels like tumbleweeds are blowing thru LU fandom when i check the tags 💀

Which isnt awful! I just like hearing feedback from ppl or just talking abt LU and stuff :)

Peace out,

🌙

[yuurei20]

Hello! I wanted to ask, but do we have any visual descriptions of the blot monster that killed Ortho? Like even just if it was big or if it had claws anything like that lol

Also this is a bit of a darker question do feel free to not answer this part but is the it ever implied or said how exactly Ortho was killed? Like did the blot monster like.. bite or maybe squash him? (Ngl I'd normally ask it in a more graphic way but I don't wanna make you uncomfortable)

Anyways I hope you have a good night/day whenever you read this <3

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question!

I do not believe we have any detailed description of exactly what it is that happened to human-Ortho and, interestingly, we do not really know what happened to Idia, either!

There is a loud sound of something striking against something else and Idia says, "Everything after that is a blank for me. By the time I woke up, Ortho was gone."

What was that sound we hear after the monster lunges for Ortho? Metal against metal? Someone or something hitting a wall, or floor? How did Idia fall unconscious, and what happened in between Ortho being attacked and Idia being knocked out?

"Everything after that is a blank" may be insinuating that something happened during that "everything after," but he either can't or does not want to remember what it was. Very curious!

And there may be more to this scene than meets the eye 👀

When Ortho reacts to the creature coming down the hall, he doesn't call it a phantom: he calls it a monster.

"Monster" is one of the various ways that the cast refer to Grim (re: Animal vs. Monster vs. Cat vs. Dire Beast vs. Tanuki (pt1) / Animal vs. Monster vs. Cat vs. Dire Beast vs. Tanuki (pt2) ).

STYX labels him a dire beast in Book 6, but at the same time we learn that Grim is under a powerful spell that STYX's supercomputer can't actually analyze!

Grim might not be a direbeast at all, and we have already heard of creatures that will blend in with direbeasts in order to hide: phantoms 👀

I first came across this theory via Vtuber Toro-san (shared with permission) who points out some interesting things we know about the creature:

1. It was subject ROS-3367A, which possibly means that the phantom originally came from the Queendom of Roses, and Grim is theorized to have been at least partially based on Dinah from Alice in Wonderland.

(In Book 6 we also hear about a SUS-332OB, theorized to be from Sunset Savanna.)

2. While the weaker phantoms frozen on the higher levels of Tartarus in Book 6 mostly growl, the stronger phantoms frozen deeper inside would sometimes speak, saying, "I'm hungry, feed me flesh," "Don't go, stay with me" and "I want to be friends, too."

This is not impossible to tie back to Grim, who recalls waking up "hungry and alone," saying "it was real cold."

He follows with, "What happened after that again? It's all so foggy..."

Grim is mysterious enough on his own, not knowing where NRC is located (which begs the question: how did he get there?) and having significant gaps in his memory, in addition to being so unfamiliar with basic information of what is (presumably?) his own world that other characters often express surprise. (re: Grim's Memory / Grim's Experiences)

3. The chimera in the prologue has long been theorized to be some form of overblotted Grim. Is that his true form as a potentially flesh-eating, unfrozen phantom under a curse and/or blessing that no one understands?

We do not know! :> To the original question: it is difficult to pinpoint how exactly it was that Ortho died, as we do not know exactly what it was that killed him. (If it was the chimera in the opening, though, we have an idea of what it is he may have looked like at the time!)

We know Ortho was killed by a monster who had just escaped from a place built expressly for the purpose of housing lonely, violent, and hungry creatures--but that is all!

Perhaps a mystery to be solved as the plot thickens 👀

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey Maya, I got into the void using the method @gorgeouslypink and you talked about so thank you so much.

I had a gaming chair in my room with a reclining chair so I just used that for my method. I went to bed and like the method instructed I woke up 3.5 hours after falling asleep! I woke up and went to my chair which I angled to 130 degrees. Well idk how exact I was, but I tried my best lol. I went to bed after 15 minutes and i had so many weird experiences ranging from hypnagogic state awareness, three false awakenings, sleep paralysis, and lucid dreaming. All within around one hour it was very confusing but I took it as a good sign because I have never experienced any of those things. I just kept going back to bed expecting to wake up in the void and I did!!!!!!!! After one year or over consuming and victimizing myself, I’m leaving my dream life.

I manifested

✨master of the void state and I can get in by just saying I am void 3x. Plus shifting for the future. Harry Potter here I come

✨revising my age from 24-> 18 to relive the childhood I missed from toxic family, abuse, depression

✨revising my family in every aspect. We went from poor, toxic, classless, uneducated, fat ugly looking, conservative… to a respected, wealthy, gorgeous, socialite loving and educated family that is loved and known by the people in my state.

✨for myself I manifested being super gorgeous. (Void came clutch i look like a fucking model) being skinny and never gaining weight, having my desires hourglass body with big boobs and a perky butt, being extremely intelligent and innovative,being an influencer, beginning my acting career, making one million dollars a year, perfect college life at USC, having a wattpadd life, so many different hobbies like singing, playing multiple instruments, pottery, drawing, writing, and so much more. My list was 10 pages long.

✨dream sp, that’s like all my favorite actors, wattpadd men, and has all my dream traits. I am beyond bless. I’m every aspect of my relationship though no one loved it even talked to me two days ago. I was always the ugly duckling, the girl people made fun of, the fatty taking up to much space. Now I have everything because of the law. It feels normal, and I’ll finally start living my life.

I’m super proud of you. Have fun living your dream life, you deserve it, and thank you for sharing your experience 💕

[anastasiabowe]

𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙚 — It's just Nanami and Yuji against the world.

note: I was rewatching JJK since my Crunchyroll subscription ended 2 years ago, and it's ON NETFLIX and I totally forgot about the relationship Nanami and Yuji had (and I personally think Nanami is a father figure but I digress) so I HAD to share this lol. Also Yuji is a baby :p

𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Nothing!

Nanami never asked to be a dad. To be honest, the idea always scared him. He hated the thought of changing diapers, buying formula, buying clothes every other month, etc! He hated the drool, the smells, the noises babies made, but when he had the blessing to meet 6 month year old Yuji, none of that mattered anymore. He knew he wanted to care for him.

The first few weeks were TOUGH. Nanami knew he didn't have the nurturing mother capability, and knew he also didn't know what to do. Yuji cried all the time and he didn't know why, his diaper would be changed, he just ate, he just woke up from a 3 hour nap (probably more than he needed) and yet he would cry.

Countless nights Nanami laid awake listening to the heart wrenching yet annoying cries of Yuji. He knew Yuji was taken care of yet he didn't know what else could have been bothering him. So the very next day, Nanami took him to the doctors only to find out Yuji was teething. He kept crying because he was in discomfort, so Nanami hit the first once upon a child he could find and found toys and other gadgets to help Yuji, and they worked! Nani got a good 8 solid hours of sleep until a new problem arose.

Yuji got sick. Yes, Yuji got the common cold yet nanami felt like it was yellow fever. Every cough, sneeze, hiccup, Nanami panicked.

"Achoo!" Yuji sneezed and Nanami dashed from the kitchen straight to the living room (which isn't very far). Nanami scanned the poor boy's slightly reddened face from him coughing and sneezing. Nanami felt up the boy's poor head for the, God knows how many times. Nanami brought his hand to his chest to feel how Yuji breathed which was thankfully normal. Yuji only laughed into a cough at how silly his daddy was acting.

"Dada funny!" He clapped his hands.

Nanami felt his heart flutter at his little boy, and he didn't feel too worried about him after his little check up. Nanami felt so happy seeing his little Yuji happy and couldn't contain the tears brimming his eyes. Yuji only looked up at him in confusion but then quickly got caught by Gracie's Corner which he was preoccupied with before his dad's check up.

Nanami soon embraced the single dad look. He'd go on runs with Yuji bundled up in his stroller, he would show Yuji off to his friends whenever they hung out at his house, and everyone fell in love with Yuji. His contagious smile, cute little salmon hair, wide eyes, there wasn't a single person who could look at the little cinnamon roll and not smile. Nanami also became the world's #1 dad. Nanami would be the first person any of the mothers at the daycare would go to for baby advice because nanami was basically the encyclopedia of babies. Want to know what foods are best to feed babies who just began to eat real food, hell give you recipes and affordable but healthy and nutritional brands.

There wasn't a single thing that could have separated Yuji from Nanami, except you, but that's not important in this part of the story. Yuji was Nanami's reason to go to his lame ass job and deal with his boss. Yuji was Nanami's breath and heart. Nanami couldn't even imagine himself without the little kid. And the older Yuji got the more Nanami became happier. Nanami was a whole new man because of Yuji, and honestly, no one complained.

Even though Nanami wished he had a s/o to help raise Yuji, he knew Yuji didn't care. As long as Nanami had Yuji and Yuji had Nanami, nothing would stop them from being happy. It was really Nanami and Yuji against the world. And what Nanami liked to tell Yuji a lot:

"It's just you and me against the world."

[voidprincess-1111]

OH MY GOD YOU WONT BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED! I ENTERED VOID

So I entered the void!!! but it was in a dream, and I still affirmed anyway.

so I took a midday nap because I hadn't slept well last night and I am typing this soon after waking up from a crazy experience. I was alone in my home and I decided to nap listening to a lucid dream subliminal. I got sleep paralysis multiple times!!! I am usually not someone who gets scared of SP but since I was alone and I was hearing voices of my family and feeling other people's presence, I got too scared. I was also breaking through SP and waking up coz I was that scared. I used to look around and go back to sleep, this happened for another 3-4 times and then suddenly I got lucid in my dreams!!!! like I have NEVERERR been lucid. It honestly kinda felt more like astral projection. I asked my mom who was in my lucid dream that if she's real..she's like.."shhh you know this is my astral body". I asked for my mom's blessing for entering the void, she asked why would you want a new life and I started crying to her :/ Then I went on to meet other new faces, and I got less and less scared and I peacefully surrendered and lucid dreamt for the longest time!!! after few mins I asked someone that I wanna enter void, she said that's cool try opening a portal and go in. So i opened a portal and fell backwards and I WAS IN THE VOID. IT FELT SO REAL. I RELT LIKE I WAS FALLINFG BUT STILL FLOATONG IN THE AIR. I SAW STARS but then I suddenly realised I could still hear the sounds. but i chose to affirm anyway and went back to sleep.

when i woke up of course nothing has changed but this is such a crazy experience for me. I got up and pondered for 5 mins if what I had was AP or LD lol. It's a huge progress nevertheless and I'm very excited to try again!

I LEARNT A LOT OF THINGS AND I WILL ENTER TONIGHT AGAINNNNN BY FOLLOWING THEM

[forever-rogue]

happy new year lovely!! thank you for blessing us with wonderful content <33

i saw that youre taking request and id love to ask for maybe a flashback fic with javi and dulzura when she's at the height of her pregnancy. javi dealing with cravings, mood swings, and h0rniness and all that lol oki tyyy

AN | Oooh, I’ve missed these two!  Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language, 

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were going to kill Javier. If not that, you were at least never letting him touch you again. 

It was the height of summer, and you were hot, miserable, and very pregnant. There were moments when you wanted to cry about it, moments when you really just wanted to throw yourself in the shower and stand under the cold water, and moments where every little thing annoyed you. 

There were only a few months left…you could manage that. And then you’d never have to do it again. Good on Javier for actually going through with getting a vasectomy. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Javi woke up, it was still the middle of the night. He reached across the best for you but found your side of the bed empty. He sighed lightly, having wanted to pull your warm, soft body into his. Ever the diligent husband, he slipped out of the bed in search of you. He completed a trek through the upstairs, checking in on the four kids before making his way downstairs. If you weren’t up there, you had to be somewhere down there, and if he knew anything about you by now, he had a feeling you’d be in the kitchen.

“Dulzura?” he called out softly when he saw the faint light in the dining room. He walked in and did his best to stifle his laugh; it wasn’t at you per se, but the sight was a little funny. You were sitting at the table, reading a book while you munched on some mac n cheese - the cheap Kraft kind is what you insisted upon these days - doused in sriracha and a side of pickles. Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked up at him and sniffled, “baby, what’s wrong?”

“Javi,” you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand before holding up your book, “he just told her that he’d been waiting for her and he’d always wait for her because she’s his soulmate. They’re so in love and now they get a second chance!”

So in love just like we are, he wanted to say. Instead he came over and crouched at your side, gently taking the book out of your hands before touching your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. You huffed slightly, but leaned into his touch, “you’re up late, honey.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted quietly, on the verge of tears again, “and your kid was hungry. So I came down to make a snack and then I remembered I’d left my book down here so I started reading and then just…eating and reading.”

“Eating and reading,” he echoed as you nodded sweetly, “aye, what am I going to do with you, huh?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you pouted and Javi couldn’t help but laugh before he leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Bump makes it hard to sleep comfortably and I’m always hungry.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and truthfully, if he could have taken the burden of being pregnant away from you, he would have in a heartbeat, “it’s not for much longer though.”

You mulled over his words for a few moments before a new wave of emotion washed over you and big, fat crocodile tears welled up and ran down your cheeks, “I-I don’t want to be pregnant anymore-”

“It’ll be over soon - forever.”

“I don’t want that either,” you choked on a sob as you reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “I’m not ready for another baby. I want to stay pregnant.”

“Honey,” he chuckled fondly, reaching to put his arms around you and holding you as tightly as possible. You hugged onto your husband as best as you could despite your bump and held onto him as tightly as possible, “it’s okay - it will be okay. We’re gonna figure it all out together, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded in agreement, “you’re right. You’re always right. You’re so smart. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he gently rubbed your back in soothing circles as he let you get it all out, tears wetting the cotton of his shirt, “it’s okay, just get it all out. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” you pulled back to look at him, to study your sweet, sweet husband and his handsome face. You tenderly cradled his face in your hands, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” he teased softly, “but I’ll allow it. C’mon, let me take you to bed and help you get comfortable.”

“Can I bring the pickles?”

“Of course.”

“Will you read to me?”

“Whatever you desire, Dulzura.”

“Do you still love me?”

“More than anything in this world,” and with that he pressed a kiss to your lips and took your hand in his, “more than anything.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It wouldn’t be a normal evening in the Peña household without some sort of chaos. And usually, it wouldn’t bug you or phase you but right now, being so pregnant and going through a particularly emotional period caused you to almost have a breakdown. Lucia was a bundle of energy bouncing around the house as she pretended to be a popstar. Santi and Thea were playing with Legos, something that still made you nervous so you kept stealing glances at them every few minutes to make sure no one was choking. Javi was sitting on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table as he graded some papers. 

Meanwhile you were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner with Diego following underfoot. He must have been going through some sort of phase because he was really clingy with you and wanted to be around you all the time. Javier had offered to help but it was already hard enough with one of your boys next to you, so you’d insisted you had it handled. Once the counters were cleaned off, you leaned against the counter and let out a heavy sigh. 

“Mama?” Diego tugged on your leg and gave you a sweet smile. You reached down and ran a hand through his dark curls and gave him a soft smile, “are you okay?”

“Oh honey,” the little look of concern on his face made you want to cry. You hated the idea that he could tell that you weren’t feeling great. You kneeled down as best as you could before pulling him into a hug, “I’m okay, Diego. I’m just tired is all. It’s not anything you or your sisters and brother did. None of you are in trouble or anything. I love you so much, my sweet boy.”

“I love you too,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. He really was the sweetest little thing and you were just so lucky that he was your son, “it’ll be okay, mama.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, “how could it not be when I’ve got all of you? Hey, we need to make brownies for Lucia’s class tomorrow, do you want to help me?”

“Okay,” he nodded happily, his big brown eyes lighting up, “can I lick the spoon?”

“Of course, mijo,” you promised, grabbing the back of the counter and slowly standing back up. You cast a quick look into the living room and found that everything was still as it should be. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips. It wasn’t that you were inherently worried that something was going to happen, but you’d been on edge lately, all part of the wonderful pregnancy experience. 

Diego popped to the other side of the counter and climbed onto one of the stools to watch you closely, ready to be your little assistant. You grabbed a bowl and a few other utensils before turning to the pantry to pull out the things you’d need. Part of you had been tempted to just use a box mix, but you wanted to go full on and make everything from scratch. You’d never thought you’d turn into one of those moms, but here you were.

But as you pushed through all the stuff that was there, you realized that the items you needed weren’t there. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you took a moment to calm yourself down. Everything was fine…in the grand scheme of things, it was no big deal. But right now it seemed like a huge deal.

“Javi?” you heard him hum in response but he didn’t even look up from the paper he was looking over. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed heavily, “Javier. Can you come here, please?”

Almost as if he could sense that something was wrong, he immediately set down his stack of papers before coming over to you. He offered you a tentative smile as a frown settled on your features. Uh oh, “what’s wrong, Dulzura?”

“Where are the things to make the brownies?” you asked and confusion clouded his features. That just confirmed your suspicions that he indeed had not purchased anything that you needed, “did you not get the stuff?”

“W-what stuff?” Javier had been through a lot in his life and dealt with some bad, scary men. But that still didn’t compare to how nervous his pregnant wife made him, “baby?”

“Seriously?” you groaned and threw your hands up in exasperation, “I asked you for one thing and you couldn’t manage it?”

“I don’t remember,” he admitted sheepishly, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“I gave you a list,” you sighed heavily, “as you were leaving this morning. I asked you to stop at the store and pick up the stuff when you picked the kids up.” 

“Oh,” yeah…you had done that. And he had managed to let it slip his mind. He even remembered that he’d taken the list and put in the visor of the car so he’d remember. Which he obviously hadn’t done, “I completely forgot. I’m so sorry, Dulzura.”

“I guess at least you remembered to pick up the kids,” your voice was thick with tears and Javier entered into crisis solving mode. He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “they’re more important.”

“We can get the stuff for brownies tomorrow, yeah?”

“No,” you pouted deeply, crocodile tears welling up, “Lucia needs them for class tomorrow in the morning. I planned on making them tonight so they were fresh in the morning.”

“How about I go and everything now?” he offered and you knew that his response was logical but you really didn’t want to admit it, “and then I’ll bake the brownies.”

“It’s not the same! The stores are going to be closed,” you huffed slightly, “it’s already getting late and oh no. The kids - we should be getting them ready for bed. I don’t want them up too late. I’m a horrible mother.”

“Dulzura,” Javier put his hands on your upper arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. He would do anything to keep you from crying, to keep the tears from falling down, “it’s okay. It’s still before their bedtime and we can start getting them ready. Once they’re asleep, I can make cookies or something…Lucia will have something to bring to class, yeah? And you are anything but a bad mother. You are a wonderful, amazing, mother - the best.”

“Really?” you perked up at his sweet words and he nodded before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love them so much. And you. All of you.”

“I know, and we love you too,” he whispered, “very, very much. How about you sit down and relax and I’ll put the kids to bed?”

“There’s four of them,” you sniffled softly, “that’s a lot of them! How can I just leave you to do everything?”

And you were crying again but you wrapped your arms around Javi, holding onto him tightly. He rubbed your back gently, softly whispering sweet words of reassurance in your ear. He’d been through this with you enough by now to know that it was a whole lot of hormones talking, “it’s not everything. It’s really not a big deal, I promise. Besides, how many times have you done it alone in the past?”

“B-but-”

“But nothing,” he insisted firmly, and your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry. He was just so sweet and wonderful that it made your heart constrict, “I will handle it this time and you will relax. That is an order.”

“Okay,” you nodded and he kissed you softly, “thank you, Javi.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he smiled and oh. He had the loveliest smile, “they’re not just your kids, they’re ours. And you’re currently growing the last one, and you deserve and need to relax.”

Before you could say anything else, a small pair of arms wrapped your legs. You looked down and found Diego looking at both of you, “you’re a good mom.”

“Yeah?” you asked as Javi picked him and settled him on his hip. Diego was getting a little big to be picked up and carried around easily, but Javier would do it for any one of his kids as long as he could and they were willing, “I think you’re a great kid, Diego. I’m so lucky to be your mom.”

“C’mon,” Javi put his free hand on your lower back and started to guide you to the living room, “you can say good night to the kids and then I’ll get them to bed.”

“They’re such good kids,” your voice almost cracked with emotion and Javi nodded softly in response, “all of them. We’re so lucky.”

“Mhmm,” he watched as the rest of your brood came over to hug you, “and all of us are very lucky to have you.”

“I love you,” you whispered to your husband, “thank you for putting up with all my craziness and all of…this.”

“It’s not putting up with you - I love you. That’s what you do for those you love,” you gave him a sweet smile, “and I happen to love you very, very much Dulzura.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You always wanted Javi. In the metaphorical and very literal sense. You’d always enjoyed a very…healthy sex life with him, but being pregnant made you want him even more. And, you know, that was nothing that Javi would ever complain about.

This particular evening found you waiting for Javier to get home and for the first time in a while, you had the house all to yourself. It might have been some planning on your part, but it wasn’t hard to convince Chucho to take the kids for the night. That man loved spending time with his grandkids, and who were you to deny him? 

As soon as you heard the door opening, you almost ran (as much as you could these days) to the door to greet him. His face lit up when he realized you were right there, and he immediately dropped his bag so he could pull you into a hug, “hey baby.”

“I’m so glad you’re home,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to his, hungry and searching, “missed you. Been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” he almost growled at the feeling of your lips on his, “missed you too, Dulzura.”

You continued to kiss him, finding it easy to get lost in him. You started to drag him towards the stairs, feeling your need for him increase with every passing moment, “need you, Javi.”

“W-wait,” he groaned, loath to pull apart from you, “the kids.”

“They’re not here,” you grinned coquettishly, “Pop has them for the night. We don’t need to pick them up until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Seriously?” He loved his kids, he really did. But sometimes having four of them made it hard to get a moment alone with you. And knowing that he had the entire evening alone with you caused him to almost lose it. You nodded and he pulled off his jacket, not even bothering to hang it up, instead tossing it on the floor. He almost growled as he kissed you again, letting his lips trail along your jaw and then down your neck. You made a soft sound and Javi groaned,  before pulling back and looking at you, “you’re going to kill me, Dulzura.”

“Can’t have you dying on me until you fuck me at least one more time,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him up the stairs. Not that he needed any encouragement, he was the one that ended up leading you, “eager, are we?”

“It’s been a long minute since we’ve done this,” he reminded you, “and even longer since we’ve been able to go without any kids around.”

“We still have one around technically,” you teased, rubbing your hand over your bump, and he snorted in amusement, “hey - this is your fault so don’t laugh!”

“It takes two,” he taunted with nothing but fondness lacing his voice, “never heard you complaining before, baby. And last time I checked who was the one that was bad at remembering their birth control?”

“Who could have gotten a vasectomy years ago?” he laughed, loving that you were able to give it all right back to him.  

“Alright, I’ll give you that one,” he threw open the bedroom door and immediately ushered you towards the bed, “it was both of us.”

“Yes - but no regrets,” you insisted and nodded in agreement. You sat down and stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling very conscious of what you were wearing. You were in an oversized, old ratty sweater, and some unassuming pajama shorts. It wasn’t anything special and it made you grimace for a moment. Javi seemed to catch and put finger under your chin and turned your face up towards his, “hi.”

“Hi,” he repeated tenderly, “what’s on your mind?”

“No-”

“Don’t lie to me,” his eyebrows raised and you stuck your tongue out at him, “we’ve been together over ten years now. I know you a little better than that.”

“It’s just….look at me,” you pointed at yourself, and he shrugged in confusion, “I just feel…not very sexy. Not that I have to feel that way, but I feel frumpy. Like a sad and frumpy mom.”

“Oh baby,” he got on his knees in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. You offered him a soft smile; getting all emotions; over this hadn’t been part of your plan, “you could be wearing a potato sack and you would still be the most beautiful thing in the world. You are so gorgeous and you don’t even have to try.”

“But I could-”

“But we could be or do a lot of things,” he dragged his thumb along your lower lip, “but I love you just like this. You’re perfect to me. And I couldn’t care less if you were in old pajamas or lingerie or nothing at all. Nothing could make me love you any less. I could only love you more - and I do every day.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed in between your sniffles and a huge grin grew across his face, “why do you always have to be so wonderful? I love you so much, Javier. So, so much.”

“I love you too,” he grinned and leaned up to kiss you, “I mean it though.”

“I know,” you promised, scooting back on the bed and tugging on his arm to pull him along with you, “now touch me. Need you, Javier.”

“I can do that,” he made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt and tossing to the side. He  got on the bed, his legs around yours as he leaned down to kiss you, caging you in between his arms. You felt like you were going to melt into putty at the feel of his lips all over your body. He tugged on the hem of your sweater, “may I?”

“Yes,” you were already breathless as he gently started to pull the fabric up your body, hands gently skimming over your soft skin. Gooseflesh raised with every little bit of his touch and your tummy felt like it was all butterflies. His touch was reverent and tender as he pulled off your sweater and tossed it to the side to join his shirt. You hadn’t been wearing a bra and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes widened. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbones. You made a small sound of happiness as he leaned back and studied you. His fingertips ghosted over some of the stretch marks you’d acquired over the years. Sometimes they made you feel self conscious but they were there for a good reason. And he always reminded you of that, “every little part of you.”

“So are you,” you put your hand on top of his where it rested on your belly and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand drifted to the waistband of your shorts and he gave them a playful little tug that caused you to snort in amusement, “take ‘em off. Unless you don’t wanna-”

“Never,” he playfully nipped at your neck, causing you to sigh wistfully at the feeling on your delicate skin, “I’d never say no to you. Dulzura.”

“So don’t start now,” you nudged him with your leg, “please.”

“Say no more,” he hooked his fingers in the side of your shorts and pulled them down in one fluid motion, letting them join the growing pile. He inhaled sharply at the sight of you on the bed, bare and looking up at him with soft eyes, “like a work of art.”

“You’re wearing too much,” you playfully frowned, hooking a friend through his belt loop, “lose the pants.”

He chuckled warmly before making quick work of stripping down. You looked at him with dark eyes and a hungry look that caused him to tilt his head to the side in amusement, “can I help you?”

“I think you can,” you feigned innocence as you gently nudged him to the side before straddling his hips. He made a low sound, a guttural thing as his hands found purchase on your hips, "you look like you've got something to say, handsome. What is it, hmm?"

"Fuck me," he whispered in awe as you grinned like the Cheshire cat, "please."

"I can do that," you leaned down to kiss him softly, "with pleasure. I love you, Javi.”

“I love you more, Dulzura.”

[accio-victuuri]

marie claire cpns by xiao zhan 🤍

let’s start with this one first, i will definitely do a separate cpn analysis of wyb’s songs and the MV, god i hope there’s a music video and we’re not just hoping for nothing. lol. anyway, i started with pointing out the jewelry which turned out to not be that big of a deal as i thought it was. but that’s the reality of clowning. this post is about the shoot itself and the interview.

as usual, all of these are speculations/interpretations of someone with a bxg lens on. 😎

starting off with the photo i used for this post. i’m sure most of us noticed the similarities between the shoot. tho the b&w were very few and that tank top! the long hair! can you believe, after all the hair disasters we’ve been through with this two— that we will get them in magazine covers with long luscious hair? in the year 2023? we are so blessed! i hope this trend doesn’t get banned or something cause i love it. here’s one more! they look so good! 💦💦💦

we have also caught on the art director for their shoots is the same person. you can say that marie claire is not as personal as working on yibo’s single but the this is not the first time that this happened. and it’s one of those cpns that we think they recommend stuff to each other and that includes people and companies they can use for certain projects. ✌🏼

there are elements of the plane and dreams, which are cpns we hade before but i won’t say much cause i think that’s really more of the magazine’s concept. i don’t think xz will have that much say on that and he only showed up their to shoot and interpret the concept the best way he can.

the meat 🥩 is truly in the interview. it’s a long one that talked about his career and personal life so let’s see what he said. 💭

Xiao Zhan held up a handheld fan to dry the sweat from the filming. When the photographer signaled the start, he stepped forward, stepped back, walked again, and continued to retreat.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Is this the 380 yuan fan wyb gave you? It’s just too funny that it’s the first thing the interviewer wrote about.

What he shares is only his sincere daily feelings.

"Don't you think that the emotions between people have never changed? Old movies will always be read and watched, and old songs will always be listened to over and over again, because the emotions sung by truly classic works remain unchanged through the ages. Only sincerity can move people."

This really stood out to me, the message of sincerity. It’s something that both of them has talked about and especially WYB. Bobo was big on sincerity during Hidden Blade’s run and it’s nice to see the same thoughts come up in XZ’s interview. They really have the same view in life and it’s why they are loved by many. Also thinking about emotions that don’t change is so them. After so many years, their love remains strong.

Old songs? My mind immediately went to Wuji. Lol. because personally, that song will always make me feel the love!

Almost every time he shoots a movie, he has a routine: dreaming. I dreamed about memorizing lines, dreaming about acting against a director, or even dreaming about taking a math test, but couldn’t solve any of the questions on the paper, and then I woke up with a start.

Dreaming! The lyrics for Everything is Lovely 🎶 has the same thought as this. WYB saying he loves to dream.

Deep down in his heart, he does not regard himself as a qualified actor, but always puts himself in the position of a newcomer, with an attitude of learning and exploration. Therefore, every time he goes to a crew, he has the experience of starting all over again.

Another same outlook as WYB. They never see themselves as the best in the room, there will always be something new to learn. They are not afraid to look at things with fresh eyes and like a child.

As for what role he most wants to play, Xiao Zhan said: "I have been mentioning it for many years, a cute and charming villain, if I get the chance."

I’m adding it here cause at this point someone should cast him as this type of villain already 😂 WYB sort of got this with Mister Ye but I hope XZ gets his dream role!

Xiao Zhan seems to have a special sense of time. He is nostalgic. Whether singing in variety shows and evening parties, or listening to them in private, he always has a preference for old songs. They are memorable, rich in meaning, and give him space to think.

I have always seen this with XZ, how his taste leans towards the older stuff. It’s so interesting cause WYB has recently been into old rock songs. I wonder if they share songs and what their updated playlist is. WYB can now related to XZ’s old songs! Maybe this is an indirect influence.

During his spare time, he just works out and watches movies. He never regards watching movies as a task. He watches everything regardless of genre, whether it is popular movies such as popcorn movies or niche movies such as art films.

Yes. Yes. ZZ & WYB are not the only people in the world who loves to watch movies. But this little tidbit coming out when we just had that info about WYB watching a shit ton of movie. They don’t even have to be together, we had fake rumors before that they watch movies together even if they are apart. Whether that’s them on the phone/video while the movie plays or recommending movies then discussing it later. 🎬

-END.

[flymetosnarryland]

I am miserable, lol 😵

Some time ago I started writing story for a comic. I drew couple pages, couple are wips and waiting for being finished. However, in the process of planning next events I found out that I want to do something more with it. The story slightly changed. A week ago I woke up with new idea for the part that was missing and the story turned a bit darker. I liked it.

Yesterday, after sleeping (for the first time for a long time, gosh) twelve hours, my brain decided to bless me and gave me that insane kick to write almost whole outline. I continued today but, imagine this, I am suffering after looking at the end result, lol. It's... what. the. fuck. I wanted this story to be angsty and bloody. Paritally I think I managed to do it, although there are parts that... I just can't cope with my brain, shite. There are moments which gives you the feeling of a comedy. Like... I mean... I just… I CAN'T THROW THEM AWAY. Just can't. It's so stupid. It's such a potato story. It supposed to be good written scenario and, you know, serious and all, but it's damn stupid. I like it and I don't like it. I feel like I should delete it and forget. This mix of trauma and bad shite sprinkled with fluff and episodes that makes me laugh is something that shouldn’t work together. But on the other hand... I never thought I will write something with "powerful" Harry. I like him being normal, you know, “just Harry” not the bloody (and I mean the real blood) Master of Death, whose life changed from one day to another and he is helpless and… sweet but tormented in a way? This is fucking ridiculous. I can’t. This story is a Frankenstein. Post-war, VampireAU by the way (because I always wanted – very discreetly – write something about freaking vampires, fuck). Last assignment evolved into weird shite.

I really feel like this pic right now:

Thank you, brain, very much.

[whore-era]

clockwork

joel miller x fem!reader

smut, angst, slight fluff

summary: in which you open up about your trauma to joel. in turn, he shows you how much he cares for you, in more ways than one.

warnings: discussion of abandonment issues/trauma, minor discussion of familial death, mentions malnutrition/hypothermia, reader experiences a panic attack

contains smut: kissing, fingering

minors, those under 18, do not interact/read this fanfic. 18+ only.

(let me know if i miss any more necessary warnings ty baes)

a/n: hiii so this is my first time in a very long time writing fanfiction, especially smut! so im very open to constructive criticism and feedback :))) please let me know if u enjoy this and would like more from me!! also i got this idea from my boyfriend (bless his heart) so LOL the plot might be weird but anyways enjoy &lt;3

word count: 2,185

clockwork. it was like clockwork the way your body forced you awake every night.

every night, you woke up from your sleep and turned around to face joel. you placed your hand on his chest, on his heart, and counted his heartbeat for a full minute. after then, you would be reassured that he’s okay. he’s alive. he’s with you. 

of course, he’s never woken up when you did this. and you wanted to keep it that way. it would be embarrassing if he found out what you did, and it’d be too much to explain why you needed to do it in the first place. 

this routine began when you first landed in jackson. 

covered in thick grime and muck, you passed out on the soft snow in front of the town’s gates. maria told you that the guards thought you were one of the infected and almost took you down. she was the one who approached your unconscious body first.

your skin was pallor, and you were thin and weak. they didn’t even know if you’d make it through the night, as malnourishment and hypothermia had overtaken you severely. it took you almost three weeks to fully recover, well, in the physical sense. 

the horrors of what you experienced outside those gates stuck with you. you developed a fear of being alone. of course, being alone for almost a year would do that to someone. the uneasy silence, the feeling of nothingness, and the thought of being abandoned again is what distresses you.

pushing those fears to the side, you imagined they could be conquered if you just put yourself out there again. 

this was how you fell in love with the infamous joel miller.

known as jackson’s dedicated grump, you’ve always had an eye for the older, reserved miller brother. it wasn’t until he strolled into the town’s clinic with a scratched-up face and a bruised shoulder that you realized he was not as bad as everyone sought him out to be.

on a weekly basis, he came in with a gash or a mark that needed tending to, which always led to a small, conversation as you intently fixed him up. joel finally mustered up the courage to ask you on a proper date on one of those days, which led you right to this moment. 

staring at the clock. 

the red glow of the number ‘3:00’ luminesced against your face. uneasiness settled into your stomach. 

it was like your body could sense something was off. there wasn’t usually a silence, you could always hear the soft breaths of sleep coming from joel, even when you’re facing away from him. but there was nothing.

with apprehension, you turned over. to your terror, joel’s spot beside you was vacant. the outline of his figure dented into the soft mattress beneath you. 

the air sucked out of your lungs. “j-joel?”, you called out. nothing. “jo-joel? are you in there?”

your body acted before your mind did, and you got up. you walked over to the bathroom to check if he was in there. empty.

you struggled to breathe and your eyes shot around the room, frantically checking signs of his presence in the space around you. 

“joel!”, you cried out, “joel!”

was joel okay? where was he? did he leave? did he need you? what if he needed help?

you didn’t know when the room began spinning, or when your heart began to beat faster, all you cared about was knowing if joel was okay.

you needed to know.

tears flooded your eyes. you didn’t know if he was in danger, or if he needed your help, and you felt useless. 

“sorry, lovebug, tommy came knockin’ on the door to cancel tomorrow’s patrol-”, joel made eye contact, concern immediately veiling his face. “hey, baby, what’s wrong?” 

he rushed over to where you were standing, his hands cupping your cheeks and searching your face for any signs of injury. your glossy eyes looked up at him, and your hands went over to cup his neck, slowly trailing down to his chest. even beneath the soft fabric of his shirt, you could feel joel’s heart.

one, two, three, four, five, si-

“baby? what are you doin’?”

“i-i need to check,” your voice came out shaky, tears rolling down your cheeks, “i need to check i-if you’re o-okay, that you’re actually a-alive.”

joel’s eyes softened, and his arms wrapped around your frame. your face buried into him, ear against his chest, and you could hear it. his heart. beating rhythmically. beating for you.

and finally, that was when you felt the air enter back into your lungs. you let out a choked sob that you were holding in. the tears came flooding. the sounds of your cries muffled against his warm body and you held him tight, afraid that he would slip away from you. 

leading you both towards the edge of the bed, joel sat you both down and he held you into him tighter, gently rocking you back and forth as you cried.

joel had an idea that you were holding some things back from him. he knew that there were some wounds that had yet to heal. 

it was evident in the way you hesitated and held your tongue whenever the topic of your family came up or when people asked how you ended up all alone in the first place. joel could tell you saw some things out there, things that visited you in your nightmares. but he never wanted to pry, he knew eventually that you would open up to him, as he did when you asked about sarah. 

joel pulled away, looking down at your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “i’m okay, darlin’,” he cooed, “i’m right here. always will be.”

you nodded, “i k-know, i just had to check.”

his eyes met yours, “is that why you been doin’ that thing every night?”

you closed your eyes in embarrassment. unbeknownst to you, joel had in fact been awake to know that you check his heartbeat every night. you wanted nothing more than to burrow into the earth’s darkness and never come out, but you know you had to eventually tell joel. you just didn’t think it’d be so soon. 

calm and relaxed, you nodded, “yes.”

“why, baby?” 

fiddling with your fingers and taking a deep breath, you looked up into his brown eyes. “because…i used to be scared of being alone. a year before i ended up here, in jackson, i was with my mom and my older sister.”

your voice began to shake and you felt your eyes brimming with tears. joel’s hands held onto yours as you spoke. “we ran away from the QZ in utah. it was a terrible place. so my mom took me and my sister and we left in the middle of the night. while we were camped out in the forest, they went to go hunting for food, and told me to wait,” you started crying again, “i waited for 8 days.”

joel’s heart sank. the realization hit him, you were alone for a year before showing up here. 

“i ended up trying to go back to the QZ in utah, but i saw them. they were both gone. i guess soldiers from the QZ were sent to find my mom. she was the only doctor there, and she was valuable. but instead they just..killed them,” you whispered the last part, closing your eyes, “my mom and my sister died so we could escape. so, i just continued on by myself until i ended up here.”

joel, heartbroken, took you in his arms once again, holding onto you tight. it made sense to him now. all the times he saw you, you were always with someone. you just needed to physically be present and with another person, to make you forget the horrors of what happened.

“i’m so sorry, angel,” joel spoke into your hair, giving your head a small kiss, “but you’ll never be alone again, not as long as you’re here with me.”

you pulled away and looked up at him, “joel,” you hesitated, “ever since i met you, my fear of being alone turned into fear of losing you.”

your confession made joel’s heart skip a beat. “i love you, joel.”

your lips gently made their way toward his and your arms encircled his neck. you both kiss each other with softness and sweetness until a whimper escapes the back of your throat, craving more. craving him. 

joel pulls away, afraid he might be going too fast with you especially after you just opened up about something so personal and traumatic, “maybe we can continue this tomorrow, sweetheart. should get some sleep.”

“i don’t want to sleep just yet,” your eyes searching his face, “i want to just..i want to feel you. i want to be with you. i want to be here with you.” 

you both look at each other for a second, before your lips crash into each others again. your tongue rubbed against his, gaining a deep moan from joel. his hands went to your hips, where he hoisted you up onto his lap and stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist. your lips made their way towards his neck, peppering soft kisses down his jawline and sucking softly above his collarbone. 

“let me make you feel good. i just want to feel you,” you kissed down his chest as your feet untangled from around his waist, your legs standing up. your hands went down to the waistband of his pajama pants and you went to kneel down before him, before he stopped you.

“no, darlin’. let me make you feel good,” joel pushed you against the bed, your back landing on the soft blankets, "tonight is gonna be about you."

he laid next to you, his lips meeting yours with one hand going over the curves of your body. his hand hovered over your breast, his fingers rubbing and pinching at your nipple. you whimpered against his lips, wetness pooling in your panties.

“god, you’re ’s gorgeous,” he whispered against your lips. his hands trailed down to the edge of your panties. you bucked your hips up, your body needing release. “please, joel.” you begged, spreading your legs apart. 

“please, what?” 

“please touch me.”

“touch you where?” 

“please, touch my pussy.”

“atta girl.” joel’s hands went inside your panties, his fingers rubbing at the entrance of your slit, soaking them up. “look at you. soaking wet, all for me.” you nodded, “all for you.”

joel’s fingers spread your pussy, and he used one to rub on your clit, eliciting a soft moan from you. he smirked, and rubbed your soaking clit in soft circles, the slick sound of the wetness echoing throughout the room. 

he added a second finger, building the pressure on your pussy. “let me hear you, sweet girl,” he cooed as his fingers did figure 8’s against your clit. a moan escaped your lips as your eyes closed and your head fell back in pleasure. 

“that’s my sweet girl.”

joel added a third finger, massaging your sopping, wet pussy. “yes, joel, god yes.”

his fingers went down to your entrance, your juices leaking out from you. joel inserted two fingers, gently pumping them in and out of you. they were sliding in and out so easily, lubricated with your sweet, sweet wetness. 

“fuck, baby, you feel so good,” joel murmured, curling his fingers inside of you. oh god, you could pass out any second. you felt lightheaded, drowning in immense pleasure. 

as joel’s thick fingers were sliding in and out of your pussy, the pad of his thumb began slow and soft circles against your swollen clit. you felt the orgasm begin to build in your stomach. 

“oh my god, joel, i’m gonna-“ his pace began to go a little faster, “yes, baby, stay like that.” you breathed out.

“go ‘head, sweet girl,” joel whispered softly, “cum for me.” your pussy tightened around his fingers, and a wave of ecstasy washed over you as your juices poured over his hand.

joel’s hand came up to his mouth and he sucked his fingers clean, making your face heat up. he quickly got up and told you to stay put, and he left and came back with a towel, cleaning you up.

getting into bed, joel put the duvet over both of your bodies. you laid down on his chest, with him wrapping his arm around you and his hand stroking your hair. 

“angel?”

“hm?”, you hummed, looking up at him. his eyes were already on you with a look of adoration. 

“i love you, more than you know,” joel whispered, “and you’ll never lose me, as long as you’ll have me.” 

and with that, he kissed you on top of your head and laid his head back, closing his eyes to fall back into slumber. 

you, in turn, closed your eyes to sleep. finally feeling at peace and confidence, knowing that you’ll always have joel miller with you, at your side. 

[smoshkidtv]

VIDCON 2024 THOUGHTS

hiii!! this will be a VERY long post detailing some of my favorite parts of attending vidcon this year! all of it will be under the cut but i'll post my main takeaway here:

i feel very fortunate to have been able to go to vidcon considering the absolute golden era of smosh that we're in! being able to meet the whole cast was amazing and something i will cherish forever.

BUT something i will cherish much more fondly is getting to meet the friends i made through watching smosh! i don't have many friends irl who watch smosh (besides me yapping about them to my partner), so finding a community online who loves them as much as i do is amazing. the fact i got to meet and hang out with them despite our distance is truly a blessing that i will never forget. for those of you reading this post, you know who you are, and i love you guys so much!!💕

thursday, 6/27 - i was so nervous i could barely sleep! not only was i going to the smosh m&g, i would also be meeting my online smosh friends for the first time irl!

- we got to watch anthony's ISADW matpat live, and it was so fun and informative! i love listening to matpat talk and shoot the shit with anthony ^^ - i watched smosh the movie for the first time while waiting in line for the smosh m&g! surprisingly funny movie (with some really cringey parts ofc lol), i'd give it a solid 6/10!

- the smosh m&g wasn't until 4:30pm but we lined up early since tommy posted on the smosh ig story that the first 25 or so people in line would get a free smosh hoodie! i did end up getting one, and it's a smosh essentials hoodie in brown (seems to be a vidcon exclusive since the website only shows a black and white version!)

- i got to meet smosh and record them on my 3ds! i've already posted the gif version of the video, but here's the version with audio! (favorite bits: spencer being amazed by my 3ds, shayne saying "impressive," ian pointing at my purple wolf socks, and damien saying i had immense aura!)

- here's another version that's a selfie! i couldn't upload the video version, but some highlights: ian going "woaahhh 3ds" and chanse recording me recording him! (my hand was so shaky lol)

- of course, my photos with the whole cast! (spencer didnt get the memo that we were supposed to be doing a cute photo afterwards LOL)

friday, 6/28 - woke up super early to make it to the smosh live: vidcon edition panel!

- my friends and i all got dressed as characters from "that damn neighbor," and i got to be their cletus! we were even featured on the smosh ig story ^^

- we got a shoutout during the panel! it was so awesome for them to recognize us and dub us as "the neighborhood!" - THEY ASKED MY QUESTION FOR IAN AT THE PANEL!! i was lowkey freaking out and i loved the response he gave! also, i submitted another question for ian that said "has anyone say next to you at lunch yet?" (my other two friends got their questions for trevor and angela answered as well!!) - we rushed over to the smosh mouth live panel right afterwards (for those wondering what the panel was about, they talked about boobs lol)

saturday, 6/29 - went to hank and john green's panel, they're really funny and it was cool to see the two people who taught me science and history growing up lol

- we were heading to mari's m&g and got surprised by all of ogsog being there! i almost teared up in front of mari just connecting to her as one of the only WOC i watched growing up in the early days of youtube ^^

- we made it to the live "hotdog is a sandwich" panel for mythical kitchen! the whole cast was there and they were super funny ^^

so yeah. vidcon was so fun and i was very fortunate to meet my childhood heroes. i love my friends and i love smosh <3

[whatsnewalycat]

Psychomanteum / Chapter 13

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 13: Lunacy Fringe

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter spend the day at the beach.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 9.2k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, grief, heart-to-heart, fluff, angst, smut, swearing, blood, cannabis use, cliffhanger, public sex, poverty mention, infertility mention near-death experiences, unprotected piv sex, ocean

Notes: Chapter title from “Lunacy Fringe” by The Used. Hmmmm let’s see. Idk if you know this, but I am employed now after like 16 months being a full-time student and SAHM, so I’m in a bit of an ~ adjustment ~ period and might take a bit longer to post things, but time will tell lol. This is a very soft chapter, I hope you like it. Let me know what ya think 🖤✨

[ Previous Chapter ][ Series Masterlist ][ Spotify Playlist ]

Despite your initial trepidation in doing the DIRT interview, and how disastrous it actually wound up being, Darlene reported to you and Dieter that public feedback has been generally positive. As all three of you expected, some of his fans have labeled you a gold digger, conwoman, or flavor of the week, but most find your story a sympathetic one and seem to be supportive. 

The news has saturated the past five days in a warmth and brightness you’ve never encountered before in your life. 

You and Dieter have been painting and writing and laughing and cooking and fucking and falling asleep tangled up in each other and waking up stuck together by sweat. Luxuriating in something neither of you could afford before: quality time. 

Today is no exception, with the two of you under the white down duvet tent, all glowing from morning sun pouring in through the skylight onto his bed.

It smells like him here, of course, but it also smells like you. Your scent has seeped into the threading of his sheets, commingling with his. Like you’ve claimed your spot here with him and now it’s something different, something shared and sacred. 

Meaning that it now smells like you, in the collective sense, and find any excuse to bask in it as long as you can. 

The pads of Dieter’s fingers trail along the shiny scar tissue that laces your leg, your hip, your arm. All those swaths of skin once split open, he traces them with reverence, his touch delicate and studious. Content to memorize you as long as you’ll let him. 

You count the gray hairs sprouting in his beard and at his temples. The wrinkles that crease his forehead and eyes. Signs of age you feel blessed to encounter. 

You think about how the two of you were rejected from the afterlife, from the omnipresent belonging, the sea of love, back into these vessels. 

“What was it like when you died?” you ask him, bringing your touch to that hairless heart-shaped spot at his jawline, “Like, what did you see?” 

“I, umm,” he clears the sleep from his throat, then says, “I remember feeling tired. So fucking tired. This crazy heavy fatigue took over, like—like someone put the world’s heaviest weighted blanket on me, and I tried to stay awake but I just fucking couldn’t. When I woke, I was floating above my body. Saw them all trying to revive me. Then it was like… I was sucked up into this tunnel.”

“The tunnel,” you grin, “That tunnel was fucking awesome.”

He chuckles, “It really was. It was like… I’ve never felt more at peace. Fucking wild,” he shakes his head and frowns, “I saw all these scenes from my life. Growing up, living in New York, getting my first real gig, moving to LA, all that. I got to that barrier, you know,” he glances at you and you nod knowingly. 

“I was right there, I touched it, and I knew that was it but I wasn’t scared. Then Annie shot the adrenaline, and I was getting sucked back, and,” his eyes flick to yours, softening to ganache, “And… I saw you.”

You blink, searching his face, shaking your head. 

“I—I saw you, Louella. I didn’t know who you were. But when I met you, I recognized you. I felt this,” he turns his wrist in a circle and twists his face up in this bewildered expression, “Connection. I don’t know. Like it was supposed to happen.” 

Then he looks at you, and his eyes are glassy and wide with this tender awe. Every cell in your body swells so fat and ripe with love, it’s a miracle you don’t burst like an overfilled water balloon. It hurts, how much you love him. 

“You never told me that," you manage to whisper, brushing your knuckles against his cheek. He gives you a sheepish shrug, and you drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose, “Maybe it was supposed to happen.” 

Dieter plucks your hand from his face and interlaces his fingers with yours, then immediately pulls it back, pressing a slow, wet kiss into the blackwork apple tattooed on your wrist. He brings your palm to his cheek and holds it there, his eyelids fluttering, “What was it like for you?” 

“Well,” you set your thumb in motion against his skin, “I closed my eyes, and it was dark, then I opened them and saw the wreck. Paramedics were putting me on a stretcher, and there was so much blood I was… red. Like someone dropped me in paint or something.”

The phantom scent of iron sends a shiver up your spine. It took a week to rid your hair of that smell. In the hospital, you scraped under your nails and picked at the hollows of your ears for days before you stopped finding dried blood. 

Maybe it wasn’t days. Maybe it was hours, or minutes, you’re not sure. 

You just know that, for approximately an eternity, you discovered a small mountain of little rust-red flakes and wondered whose blood it was, knowing that even if it wasn’t his, it was. 

Dieter kisses your palm, pulling you back into the present. You blink a few times, take a deep breath, then continue. 

“Ethan was with me, and we were pulled behind the ambulance, like there was some kind of tether between me and my body, but somewhere along the way, he disappeared. That’s when I noticed...” 

You tilt your head and frown, watching your nails graze his whiskers while your mind tries to assemble a description that might make sense. 

“Above me, there was this light. Something inside me knew that’s where he went, so I followed him into the tunnel. I saw my life. When I was growing up in Ohio, my dad, my mom… the time I spent, um…” 

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes flick to his, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I lived out of my car for a few years after I moved out, before I was accepted into CIA.”

“Really?” he searches your face, and when you nod, he rolls on his side, sliding his palm along the curve of your back, scooping you up to bring you closer. 

“Well, technically I was still homeless when I started going there, ‘til my classmate found out and insisted I move in with him,” you smirk, “That’s how Parker became my bestest friend.” 

“As always, a man after my own heart,” he murmurs and mimics the smirk on your lips. The tips of his fingers work up and down your spine in a soothing motion. 

You chuckle at this, then sigh, “Then, yeah, moving to the city, meeting Ethan. I got to the barrier and saw him cross. I could see inside it like a window. My grandparents, my dad, and Ethan—they were all there, but wouldn’t let me through. My dad told me I needed to go back, that I had more to do.”

A burning sensation climbs up your throat, settling behind your eyes, where tears start to form. You swallow the thick, raw feeling and shake your head. 

“I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think there was anything left for me if Ethan was gone, even though—” 

When you realize what you were about to say, a sob escapes you. Dieter kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and tightens his arms around you. You curl up against him, wriggling your head into that space between his collarbone and jaw. The heat of his body and your own recycled breath warms your face.

“Promise not to judge me for this?” you ask him in a hoarse whisper. 

He tucks your hair behind your ear, “I promise.” 

“Sometimes—you know, when things were really bad with him—sometimes I, um,” your voice breaks. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, take a shaky breath, then confess, “Sometimes I wished he would die.“

Self-loathing crackles in your chest. Each second that passes with no response only amplifies the feeling, and you can’t stop the wave of anxious thoughts from spilling out your lips, “It’s fucking horrible, I know it is, but he wasn’t the man I married anymore. He would leave for hours, sometimes days, without telling me where he was or who he was with, coming home all fucking strung out, reeking of booze and smoke and pussy, and—and if I asked, if I dared to fucking ask, he treated me like—like I was the fucking enemy or something—”

Another wet sob gurgles from deep in your chest. Dieter squeezes you tight, nuzzling against the crown of your head, thumb grazing your shoulder as he coos, “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok—”

“No, Dieter, it’s not fucking ok—I should have done something when I noticed it happening more and more, but I was so fucking angry with him for taking away my choice to have a family—”

He shifts to look down at you, asking, “What do you mean?”

Your heart jumps so high, it seems to get lodged in your throat for a moment. You  shake your head and swallow it down, then take a deep, wobbly breath, exhaling a sigh, “He, um… he cheated on me. Said it was a one time thing, he was all fucked up because it was the anniversary of his brother’s death—I—I don’t know. He didn’t tell me until months later when I got really sick out of nowhere and had to go to the Emergency Room. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me at first, but admitted me and started me on antibiotics because the symptoms pointed to an infection.” 

This big, blue boulder settles on your sternum and presses the air from your lungs. Dieter’s comforting touch starts again, swirling patterns into your shoulder, his arms cradling around you, lulling you into a sense of security, urging you onward. You relax into his warmth and clear your throat. 

“When the antibiotics worked, the doctors looked into my symptoms further. They ran a bunch of tests and eventually found that I had chlamydia. I told them it was impossible, the only person I was sexually active with was my husband—and, well… yeah. Anyway. Turns out he knew he had it, got treated, but couldn’t bring himself to tell me about it,” you shake your head and let out a sad chuckle, “Just, um, stopped fucking me. Let it fester inside me until it turned into pelvic inflammatory disease, which scarred my reproductive organs enough to make me infertile.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters, and his lips part like he’s going to say more, but his breath catches and they snap shut. When they open again, he says, “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

You study him, “What were you going to say?” 

“What?” 

“Before you said you’re sorry, what were you going to say?” 

“I, uhh,” he pauses, and you hear the wet squelch of his gulp, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

You pull back to meet his eyes, finding them all red and glossy. An ache of affection radiates across your chest. You cup his cheeks and search his face, “Tell me.” 

“Just… that’s just a fucking terrible thing to do to someone you love,” he shakes his head, tears pooling in his eyes as he winces and looks away, “But—but my first thought was that I understand why, he umm, why—”

His face crumples. Tears blur your vision. You nod, showing you get what he’s trying to say. 

He sniffles, and his eyebrows draw together as he meets your gaze, “God, that’s fucked up, right? What the fuck does that say about me?” 

You take a moment to deliberate, wiping your eyes before telling him, “I think… the fact that you are able to recognize that in yourself, and know that it’s wrong, but tell me the truth anyway, is…” you lick your lips as you try to find the right words, deciding on, “Indicative of growth.“ 

Dieter chuckles. It’s a wet, forceful noise, like he couldn’t even help it from happening. He sniffles and presses his forehead to yours. His thumb scrapes against your damp cheek, “That is very diplomatic of you.” 

You smile despite the tears, then lean in to give him a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft. They linger on yours for a few moments, and when you pull away, you murmur, “I love you, Dieter.” 

“I love you, too,” he rumbles, brushing your face with the back of his hand, “So, you found that out in the hospital, and I’m assuming things got worse with him after that?” 

“Yeah,” you frown and nod, “Yeah, I mean, I iced him out pretty hard. It all went down right before COVID hit New York, you know, and we were stuck at home together… he’d run our orders, then lock himself away in his office. I’d hear him snorting and pacing in there for hours. Like a caged animal. He’d come out all fucking,” you make a sniff noise and mimic a facial tic, “Twitchy and withdrawn, which was totally not like him. But, I don’t know. I couldn’t bridge that gap and move past what happened enough to help him.” 

You sigh, flicking your gaze to his, “Do you remember what he was like?” 

“Yeah,” Dieter swallows, glancing behind you for a moment before returning to your eyes, “He was nice. Funny. Easy-going. I—I mean, I liked him. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, knowing what I know about him now, I feel… I don’t know, guilty, or something.” 

“Don’t,” you frown and shake your head, combing your fingers through his curls, “He was all of those things. He was so… good, you know? This thing would happen, I swear to fucking god it was like every time we went out,” you chuckle fondly, “He would strike up a conversation with a stranger and make friends with them. It was effortless. He was so magnetic. I always loved that about him. And it’s not like he was different behind closed doors or anything like that. Not at that point, anyway.” 

Your smile falters. Dieter tilts your chin up and kisses you. When he pulls back, you wriggle into his chest and close your eyes. 

“That’s what I mean, though, when I say he wasn’t the man I married. He became paranoid, unpredictable, erratic. There was this darkness about him that was so… hard to be around. I—I fucking hated him.” 

Your stomach drops, eyes blinking open. Before you can think twice, you tell Dieter, “That’s the last thing I said to him. ‘I fucking hate you.’” 

He draws a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, then says, “That’s not true, though. You talked to him last weekend, in the psychomanteum.” 

Your lips part to contradict him, but you realize he’s right. That dark, heavy feeling in your chest lifts enough for you to smile. Fresh tears prick your eyes, “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Fuck yeah you did,” he grins, craning his head to kiss your forehead, murmuring against your skin, “My sexy little ghostbuster.” 

You bury your face in his neck and laugh. His chest vibrates with a low chuckle. A serene silence settles under the white, glowing dome. Dieter releases a content sigh and traces the pomegranate on your shoulder, “Did you ever find out why?”

“Why what?” 

“Why he, umm—”

“Ah,” you nod, “Why he tried to kill us?”

“Yeah.” 

“No,” you furrow your brow, “When he dragged me out of bed that night, he kept asking me who I was working for, said it had to be NYPD or feds. He told me that someone was following him and he knew I was setting him up. I don’t know.”

You take one of his hands and interlace it with yours, cuddling them to your chest, “The first time we tried the psychomanteum, I was hoping he would be how he was before—I mean, obviously because I needed to know who he really was, if it was all a lie in the beginning, if I had just missed it… but I also wanted to ask if I should lay low. The more time that went on, though, with no red flags from police, the more I knew he was just… sick.” 

Dieter hums in acknowledgment. 

“I’m so glad we tried again. That I got to talk to him again,” you say, smirking when you add, “Thank you for helping me with my crazy ghost FaceTime.” 

He smiles, “Thank you for convincing me to try it. I’m glad I did.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he pauses and shifts a little, “James and I, in our heyday, we would write these scripts and screenplays and act them out. He did most of the writing, and I did the big parts, but I, you know, I liked… writing.” 

You pull back and tilt your head at him, a grin spreading across your face at his bashful demeanor, “Really?” 

He nods, a little bob wobbling his throat, “I’ve been thinking about giving that a shot. I have some ideas for scripts, but I’ve been so… reluctant, I guess, to put them to paper,” he shrugs, “When I talked to James, he told me I should try it again, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“I think he’s right,” you tell him, and press a kiss into the back of his hand. 

“I just keep thinking… What if it’s terrible? What if nobody likes it?” 

“Does it matter as long as you like it?”

His features shift into seriousness as he considers this. Brow furrowed and pinched in the middle. Corners of his mouth folded in a slight frown. Eyes downcast, studying your clasped hands as he flattens your palm over his heart. 

The soft, rhythmic thump-thump beats steady. You watch his eyelids flutter and his facial muscles slacken into a serene expression. This feeling comes over you that’s hard to explain. 

It surges from deep inside your chest and buzzes across your skin. 

There’s weight to it. Nothing you can’t handle, but still, the heaviness is apparent. You simultaneously feel responsible and completely exposed. Like you’re exchanging your most prized, most fragile possessions, under the silent condition that neither of you will break the other’s. 

You would be lying if you said it didn’t scare the shit out of you. You would also be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy. 

He catches you staring and smiles, “What?” 

“Nothing,” you grin, “I just… I love you.” 

“Yeah?”

You nod, glancing down at his lips. 

He searches your face and murmurs, “I love you so much.” 

“So fucking much,” you confirm. 

Gravel crunches beneath your sandals as you trot down the steep path to the beach, splitting your attention between your clumsy footwork and the scenery. 

Clusters of purple flowers occasionally break up the tall, dry grass. Palm trees stretch high into the brilliant, cloudless sky. Beyond the white sand beach sits the Pacific Ocean, dark and alive. 

As you inhale deep and wide, letting your eyes shut as you relish the sulphuric, briny scent of the sea, your foot catches on a rock, and you stumble forward with a yelp, grabbing Dieter’s arm to keep you from falling. He only falters a little when you latch onto him, even though he’s outfitted like a pack mule, beach chairs strapped to his back, lugging a tote bag stuffed with towels and a cooler. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you wrap your hand around his bicep for support and shrug, “Just, y’know, being super attentive and graceful.” 

His muscles twitch under your grip, “Good thing you have such a big strong man to hang onto.” 

“Are you flexing?” 

“Pffff, no,” he scoffs, and this big, contagious smile spreads across his face. Gravel transitions into sand at the trail’s end, and he asks, “Alright, doll, where you wanna set up camp?” 

Your nose crinkles as you squint around the sparsely populated beach. There’s a section of shoreline far away from everyone else, and you point to it, “Right there! Avast ye!”

“Aye aye, captain!” 

His pirate voice is surprisingly on point. It makes you laugh. He grins at your amusement as the two of you trudge towards the spot. Sand kicks up inside your sandals, gritty and hot against your feet, and you grumble, “Fuck this, I can’t with the shoes.” 

You slow down to take them off, but Dieter stops you, “Wait wait wait—” 

“What?” 

“Think you can kick ‘em all the way there?”

You shrug, “Probably.” 

He sets the cooler down, takes a step back, and props his hands on his hips, looking between you and the vacant section of beach through his sunglasses, “Let’s see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tease, “You are such a boy.” 

“Kick your shoes! Kick your shoes! Kick your—”

You wind up your right leg, then kick it forward, sending the sandal flying. 

“YEAAAAAAH!” 

It goes high, but not far, flopping on the ground a few strides ahead. 

“Ah, beans,” you say, “I thought that was outta here.” 

“See, your problem is,” Dieter drops the tote bag and shucks off the beach chairs strapped to his back. 

“Oh, you have a technique? A shoe kicking technique?” 

“Obviously,” he guffaws while tugging his joggers up his calves, “You gotta get your flippy all floppy on your toes, then kick it.” 

“I believe the technical term is loosey-goosey.”

“You’re absolutely right, my mistake,” he walks to your side and points to his foot, “See, watch this.”

He shakes his foot around until the sandal dangles off it, then winds up and launches it forward. It goes about four times further than yours, landing right where the two of you were headed. 

“BOOM! That’s a shoe kick.” 

“Nice,” you give him a high five. 

“Thanks,” he grins, “Now you try. Should we do this one together?” 

“Ok ok,” you balance on your right foot, wriggling your ankle around until the sandal slides down as far as it can. 

Dieter does the same, “Here we go, ready?”

“So fucking ready.” 

“One, two, three—”

Both of you rear back, then kick, and your sandals go whizzing through the air. Yours hits the ground first and skids across the sand, coming to rest a few feet from his first sandal, while Dieter’s flies so far it’s just a speck in the distance. 

“Holy shit!” you laugh, “That went so fucking far.” 

“And the crowd goes wild!” Dieter bellows, embellishing the statement with cheering noises as he runs a victory lap around you. 

You snort and shake your head, “Ok, now you’re gloating.” 

He continues the one man celebration as he returns to his abandoned cargo, then heaves the chairs back over his shoulders. You skip up to him and snatch the tote bag off the ground, even though he insisted on carrying everything, then take your place on his arm. 

Once the two of you arrive at the vacant stretch of beach, marked by two left sandals, Dieter sets everything up, unfolding the colorful canvas beach chairs on either side of the cooler while you strip down to your black string bikini. He digs in the pockets of his joggers and unloads most of their contents into the tote bag, save for a little tin of joints and a lighter, which he sets on the cooler.

Stretching out in the beach chair, you bury your toes in the hot sand and watch Dieter kick off his pants. He notices you noticing him and whistles at you, a flirty wheet-whew.

You grin, and when he reaches for the hem of his shirt, you catcall, “Take it off!” 

He does so dramatically, spinning the shirt over his head like a helicopter and flossing it between his legs before tossing it at you. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh when it smacks you in the face. The fabric is warm and reeks of him, which you kind of like, so you ball it up and stuff it behind your head like a pillow. 

With a groan, Dieter sits down and grabs the tin off the cooler, plugging a joint between his lips. He lights it and takes a few puffs, then relaxes back into the beach chair, passing the torch to you. 

You accept it and take two hits in quick succession, keeping the smoke hostage in your lungs. The rush of THC blurs your senses and elevates you to a pleasant altitude where worries slough off your brain. On the exhale, you hand it to Dieter and ask, “If you were a fish, what kind of fish do you think you’d be?” 

He just starts giggling as he plucks the joint from your fingertips and takes a drag.

You catch a few contagious giggles and tell him, “I think—I think I would be a, uhh… a pufferfish.” 

He furrows his brow and blows the smoke towards the ocean, then shakes his head, “A pufferfish?” 

“Yeah,” you take the joint from him, inhaling skunky, thick smoke with a shrug, “Spiky. Temperamental. Solitary.” 

“Kind of adorable when you’re mad,” he adds with a grin while accepting the joint from you, then puffs on it. A condensed white cloud curls out his parted lips when he hands it back to you. He looks out into the water, “I’d be a goldfish.” 

You study him while taking a drag, and flick a long tube of ash off the glowing orange tip. 

His nose scrunches up around his sunglasses as he glances over at you, “Trapped. Always… on display.” 

You pass him the joint and nod in understanding, but say, “I don’t think you’re a goldfish. You’re like… way cooler than a goldfish.” 

“Well, I don’t think you’re a pufferfish.” 

“Then what am I?” 

“Hmm,” he leans way back in his beach chair, tucking an arm behind his head while taking a hit off the joint, then hands it back to you, “Let me think about it.” 

“Kill it,” you wave off the joint, perfectly content with how stoned you managed to get, and lay back to bask in the warm sunshine. Your eyes drift closed and you release a deep, cleansing breath while thinking about goldfish. Pea-brained, sociable, common. 

Sure, he may feel like a goldfish, but that’s not him. Not really. 

He’s unique, and smart, and dedicated, when he wants to be. 

Dozens of different sea creatures swim behind your eyelids. You compare and contrast each one to your paramour. Octopi are smart and shapeshifters, but they’re too reclusive. Sharks too aggressive. A whole fleet of colorful, tropical fish, but none of them seem right, until one little curly-tailed guy buzzes across the ocean in your head. 

Your eyes open and you smile at him, “You’re a seahorse.” 

“How’s that?” he asks, voice warped by smoke. He grinds the joint into the sand, then outstretches a hand to you. 

You take it, interlacing your fingers with his, forming a bridge between your armrests, “They eat a lot, they’re kind of pokey—”

“Stop, you flatter me,” he deadpans.

You throw your head back in laughter and say, “Wait, wait—let me finish! They’re also cute, and romantic, and smart, and curious,” you lean forward and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his skin, then declare, “You, my love, are a seahorse.” 

A wide grin spreads across his face. His thumb works against your hand. He tugs on it and murmurs, “C’mere.”

You crawl out of the beach chair, into his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a kiss. One of his hands snakes around your waist while the other comes to rest on your bare thigh. When your lips part, you curl up against his chest and sigh, “I love you, my sweet seahorse man.” 

He lets out a dopey little giggle and kisses the crown of your head, mumbling into your hair, “And I love you, my beautiful seahorse lady.” 

You gasp, peering up at him, “I get to be a seahorse with you?” 

“It makes sense, don’t you think?” he pulls you close and nuzzles into your hair, snuggling you like you’re his favorite stuffed animal at bedtime, “You and me, we can just… get our tails all tangled up and float around the sea together. Hang out in coral reefs and eat, uhhh… I don’t know, whatever seahorses eat. Sea-monkeys?” 

“Sea-monkeys?” you guffaw, “What the fuck are those?”

“It’s a thing!” he laughs, giving your thigh a playful smack, “Didn’t you ever have sea-monkeys? They came in those, uhh, little Parmesan cheese packet lookin’ things—Oh! They’re shrimp! Brine shrimp.” 

“Ohhhhh!” you cover your face as you nod, “Ok, yes. I know sea-monkeys. I bet if I was a seahorse I would eat the shit out of those.” 

“Told you.” 

“You’re right,” you relax back into him, unable to shake the smile from your lips, “Did you know that when a seahorse finds another seahorse they really like, they mate for life?” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” your eyes drift closed, lulled by the warmth of him surrounding you, “They love each other so much that when one of them dies, the other shortly follows. Cuz they can’t live without each other.” 

“That’s weirdly romantic,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead. 

“Totally us.” 

He hums in agreement. The noise is saturated with a warm contentment that seeps into your bones and boils them down to broth. It sloshes around under your skin and you can’t imagine having to move ever again. 

“If we stay like this I’m gonna fall asleep,” you mumble. His response is to nuzzle even closer and take a deep, sleepy breath. It’s all the permission you need to let the sandman pull you under. 

When Dieter wakes, not much time has passed. The sun no longer hangs in the zenith of the sky like an angry disco ball, but stares him straight in the face. 

He peaks down at you and chuckles. A puddle of drool has collected on his shoulder, dribbling from the corner of your slackened mouth. Warmth swells in his belly and aches all the way up to his chest. He strokes your sweaty, heated cheek and thinks, “I don’t deserve her.” 

The thought is not so much self-deprecating as it is full of awe at his fortune. 

Each morning, when he wakes and you’re still there, wrapped up in his embrace, he can’t believe it. Your one-way ticket to LA has no return trip planned. Neither of you have brought it up. The closest you’ve come is asking him, “Are you sick of me yet?” one morning over breakfast. 

“Sick of you?” he scoffed and ripped off a chunk of his blueberry muffin, popping it into his mouth, “Not possible.” 

You smiled at him over your coffee mug before taking a tentative sip and changing the subject, “What’re we doing today?”

He knows you have a life back in New York. A business and friends waiting for you to return, but, god… he’d do anything to keep you here forever. To share as many days with you as possible. 

As has been happening often lately, he dwells on a snippet from his near-death experience. The one of him holding your hands, where you’re wearing a white dress, smiling bright and full and gorgeous, and you say, “I do.” 

Given the result of his previous marriage, he considers that he might be an idiot for daydreaming about it. Especially this soon. 

Didn’t he learn his lesson last time? 

Apparently not. 

Did he feel this way last time, though? Like someone turned up the dimmer switch on his life? With Anika, did he ever know, with certainty, that he would give up anything and everything to stay in the orbit of her affection? 

No. 

It’s different with you. The tendrils of your love have burrowed deep inside him, taking root in a place no one else has touched. A place he didn’t even know existed within him. 

You stir a little. Dieter strokes a scarred-up strawberry on your arm, gazing down at you in time to witness your eyes blink open and meet his. A hazy smile spreads across your lips, and you reach up, brushing his patchy beard with your knuckles, “What time is it?” 

The words are groggy and rough. 

He shrugs, “Sometime.” 

Humming, you look around, then try to sit up, but he reels you back in and squeezes his arms around you, “Mmmm no.” 

“Dee,” you whine, laughter wavering your protest, “I’m so thirsty. And hot.” 

“Yeah you are.” 

One corner of your mouth tucks into a smirk and you snort, shaking your head at him. You kiss him, your dry, sea-chapped lips sticking to the soft inner plush of his mouth. When you draw back and stretch your hands up towards the aquamarine sky, a deep yawn expanding your rib cage, he reluctantly lets you go. 

Exhaling a gust, your body goes slack and you roll off his lap into the sand, groaning, “Water,” then crawl towards the cooler. He reaches over to pop the lid open for you and grabs a seltzer. The can opens with a hiss. He brings it to his lips, taking a big swallow of the bubbly, vaguely strawberry-flavored water. 

You twist the cap off a dewy plastic water bottle and tip your head back to guzzle it down, water streaming out the corners of your mouth, trickling down your chin, neck, chest, the column of your throat pumping in a thick glug-glug-glug that flickers at the base of his spine. 

Sand coats your arms and legs, all those microscopic grains clinging to your slick, sweaty skin. The bottle collapses in on itself as you suck down the remaining water. You toss it aside and gasp for air, chest heaving, practically fucking moaning, “Oh my god—that was fucking amazing.” 

A hot, heady rush of need gushes through him. His dick jumps. Breathing quickens. 

Dieter gulps down seltzer, ogling you while you grab a fistful of ice from the cooler and hold it to your forehead, eyes fluttering shut. You press the melting ice into your cleavage, squishing your tits together, lips parting in a gasp. 

Jesus fucking Christ, Louella. 

He sits up and finishes off the seltzer, dropping his empty in the sand, “Need some help?” 

With your head still tilted back, eyelids still sealed shut, a sly smile spreads across your face, “Oh yeah?” 

By now, the heat of your skin has turned the ice to water, trailing shiny and wet down your abdomen, pooling in your belly button, darkening the very top of your black string bikini. 

Dieter stifles a groan at the sight. Saliva gathers in the dark cavern of his mouth. He gulps it down. 

You open your eyes and level your gaze to his, eyebrow quirking as you shrug. 

He takes a handful of ice from the cooler and pats his thigh. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You crawl over to him and climb into his lap, sliding back until you’re seated firmly on his hard cock. 

“Someone is excited,” you chuckle. 

“Can you blame me?” he grins, brushing hair from the nape of your neck. He presses the ice into that knotted bone right beneath your skull, then slides it down your back, drawing circles over each vertebrae. Your shoulders slacken and you let out a sigh of relief. 

When the cube melts, right around the middle of your spine where your string bikini is tied into a neat little bow, he gets a new one. 

“That feels good,” you breathe, hips arching back, ass pressing hard against him. 

The way you say this, all lusty and scraping along the edge of your vocal cords, makes his throat rumble and beckons him closer. He shifts his seated position, sitting up higher, slipping a hand around your waist to make sure you don’t wiggle away, then presses a slow kiss into your pulse. 

You hum, opening your neck wider for him to taste the salty bite of your sweat. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your skin, fingertips digging into your soft belly. The ice cube melts against your tailbone, and he grabs another, smearing its decay along your collarbone, down your sternum. 

When he slides it under your skimpy little bikini top and rubs it against your pebbled nipple, you rock your hips against his, letting out a soft gasp, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.” 

“With who?” he murmurs, nips at your neck, then says, “Nobody’s here, love.” 

“Wait, really?”

You lean forward and look around, turning back to him with a mischievous grin when you find what he said is true. Your pink bubblegum tongue peaks out to wet your lips as you search his face, “Are you sure?”

“Relax, doll,” he purrs, reeling you in, pressing his lips into your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. You reach back, fingers tangling in his hair, and pull him into a leisurely, saccharine kiss. 

Like always, it makes his heart stutter. Bubbles hot and wanting up the middle of him. You roll your hips. The heated weight of you grinds hard against his cock, making him groan into your mouth. 

His fingertips dance across your abdomen, tracing tedious little swirls into your skin. Your lips gape open with a whine and you roll your hips. His eyelids flutter and he shudders at the wave of pleasure that floods his body. He grabs your hips and silently urges you to continue, rocking you back and forth. 

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” he pants. 

Your hand slides over his, both chilled and wet from melted ice, and you guide it between your legs, nodding when his touch wriggles under the fabric of your swimsuit, moaning when he finds your clit and rubs you, soft and steady, studying the subtle, pleasure-filled tremors that make your muscles twitch and breathing quicken. 

Your eyebrows thread together and your lips get all pouty, these huffy whimpers escaping them with each stroke, and he could just fucking eat you alive right now, you’re that goddamn beautiful. 

His mouth seizes yours. You respond with vigor, twisting your top half around to bury your hands in his hair and kiss him harder. 

He works you faster, flicking his wrist, swallowing your moans whole. 

You pull back with a gasp and throw your head back on his shoulder, “Holy fuck, yes—”

“Does that feel good, baby?” 

“Sofuckinggood,” you whimper, grinding against him, “Fuck—fuck, I want you, Dee—”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you right here in the open?” he coos in your ear.

You nod. 

“Let me take these off,” he withdraws his hand and you scramble to your feet, chest heaving as you glance up and down the shoreline. He tugs off his swim trunks and reclines in the canvas beach chair. 

Your eyes drop to his cock, and this big, delighted smile stretches across your face. Returning to his lap, you lower yourself back while Dieter pushes the gusset of your bikini aside and guides to your target. When the tip of him breaches your entrance, you gasp.

“Holy shit, baby,” he groans as you ease him into your hot, wet squeeze, whimpering, “Fuck fuck fuck,” under your breath as he stretches you open. 

When he can’t go any further, you adjust your posture, hands on his knees, leaning forward, arching your back. You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, and start to roll your hips, pussy suctioning around him, taking him slow and deep. 

He moans and nods in approval at the pleasure that gushes up his spine, “That’s it, baby, take what you need. Ride that cock how you want it, feels so fucking good, fuuuck—”

“Oh my god, Dee,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, mouth hanging slack. 

He slides his palms up your back and watches his cock, all shiny with your slick, disappear into you over and over again. Your huffy little whimpers grow louder and you grip his knees, pushing yourself back onto him harder, faster.

“There you go, love,” he groans, gripping your waist, “It’s all yours, baby, take it—”

“Fuck, Dee—”

Your voice is high-pitched and frantic. His hips arch into yours, pulling a wrecked moan from your chest. Liquid heat pulses through him, and when he thrusts again, you gasp and nod, “Fuck, keep doing that.”

He does. He fucks up into you and you curve your spine, face to the sky, tilting your pelvis just so, and the hot, plush silk of your cunt grips his cock, making this sick, wet squelching noise that only fuels him further. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing, so fucking perfect,” he pants, skin tingling with desire, wanting to feel you closer, needing to feel your lips on his. His hips slow and he slides a hand to your belly, urging you, “Come here, baby.” 

Dieter guides you back, threading one arm around your abdomen, the other scooping up your knees. You link your hands at the nape of his neck and he presses his forehead into yours. The first thrust makes your whole body tense and you whimper, “Holyfuckingshit—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, pulling back to meet your wide eyes, “You can do it, you can take it.”

You make this cute, pathetic kind of noise, gulping down a whine, but nod for him to continue. 

He rolls his hips, slow at first, letting you acclimate, increasing his tempo when your head rolls back and your walls relax. 

You’re cradled so close he can see the sweat glistening on your skin, can smell your damp musk, can hear every breathy moan, can feel every muscle in your body quiver as he pumps into you. The edges of him start to crumble, deteriorating with each thick wave of pleasure that washes over him. 

“Fucking perfect, Jesus fucking Christ, pussy feels so good I fucking love it,” he babbles.

Your breathing grows frantic and sharp, head snapping up to tell him, “Don’t fucking stop I’m so close, holy shit Dee—”

“Fuck yes, cum on this dick baby, let me feel you, I fucking love it I fucking love you—”

You pull him into a needy, messy kiss, your deep, wanton moans vibrating on his tongue as you convulse around him, tremors twitching your muscles. A swell of pleasure steals his breath, surging through him hot and gooey and overwhelming, and he falls over the edge, spilling inside you. 

Your lips don’t part from his for more than a moment while the two of you come down into blissful satisfaction, your bodies sweaty and trembling. Labored breaths gradually dissipate into normalcy, and the kisses linger with intimacy. 

“Wow,” you giggle eventually, slack and boneless against his body as you tuck your head into his neck, “Are there awards for fucking? I think you just won in the outstanding performance category.” 

The praise curls up inside him and makes him chuckle, “What an honor. I’d like to thank my beautiful costar, Louella. Couldn’t have done it without you—”

Your laughter cuts him off, then you say,“You can put your Fuck-ee next to your Oscar.” 

“Fuck-ee?” he throws his head back and guffaws, “What would that trophy look like? A golden dong?” 

Your body shakes with laughter, “I think that sounds perfect.” 

He kisses your sweaty forehead, releasing a content sigh before murmuring “I should put my trunks back on.”

You chug two more bottles of water before returning to your chair beside Dieter. 

As you stretch out in the sunlight, the outside world starts to creep back into frame. Sand heats the soles of your feet. Ocean waves roar and slosh onto the beach. A salty breeze ruffles your hair and cools your heated skin. 

Dieter nods to the seemingly infinite gray-blue water, “Wanna take a dip?” 

You look at the ocean. At the tide washing ashore, then pulling back, again and again. Big, rhythmic, gasping breaths. You think about the vast depth of the Pacific, about the ecosystems it contains, all its tides and currents. All the life it contains and death it brings. The sheer power and magnitude of its existence, right in front of you. 

Unease twists your stomach and hums in your bones. Your chest aches. 

It’s so overwhelming. 

Dieter squeezes your hand, reminding you of his question, and you glance over at him, his expression hopeful and earnest. You can’t say no to that face. Besides, it’s just water. 

You’re being irrational. 

“Sure.” 

“Yeah?” he crinkles his nose like he’s squinting at you behind his sunglasses, “We don’t have to, you know.” 

“It’s fine, let’s go,” you crawl to your feet, dusting sand off your legs and ass as you start towards it, ignoring the violent thud of your pulse. 

He catches up to you, interlacing his fingers with yours, and the two of you trudge through the hot sand. 

“Are you sure?” 

You frown, “Yeah, why?”

“You seem,” he pauses here, jaw ticking to one side, then runs a hand through his wind-blown curls, “I dunno. Like you don’t actually want to.” 

You frown and shake your head, but the action isn’t convincing. 

When he starts to slow, you do too, and you both come to a stop, side-by-side, right across the border of smooth, damp sand. A wave crashes against the shoreline. Its tide stretches towards you, then the cool water washes over your feet. 

Dieter squeezes your hand, “Lua. Don’t lie to me.” 

You turn and face him, opening your mouth to lie, then he pulls his sunglasses up into his hair so you can meet his eyes, that warm gaze knocking at the eroded, but stubborn, cement wall of your heart, begging, “Let me in. Please.” 

“It’s stupid,” you drop your gaze and catch the soft inside of your cheek between your molars, then glance between him and the rolling water, “It’s just scary, you know?” 

He frowns, “What is, the ocean?”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gesturing towards another incoming wave, “It’s fucking massive. We don’t even know what’s in there, I mean, there could be monsters—”

“Monsters?” 

You shoot him a playful glare and chuckle, “We don’t know!”

“Uh huh” he grins, both of his heated, sandy palms finding your waist. 

You drape your arms around his neck, tangling your fingertips into the damp curls at the base of his skull, then swallow hard and shrug, “And maybe… I don’t know, maybe I can’t, um… swim?” 

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh shit, really?” 

Heat creeps up your neck. You drop your gaze and hear yourself mutter out excuses like a reflex, “Not very good, anyway. Nobody ever took me swimming, or showed me how, and I never figured it out on my own, and-and Ethan was supposed to teach me—” 

“Hey, that’s fine,” he works his thumb against your skin, soothing you, “We don’t have to go far, no swimming necessary.”

You thread your brows together, “Really?” 

“Obviously,” he scoffs, “What, you think I’m gonna make you? We don’t have to go into the water at all if you don’t want to—”

“No, I want to. It looks nice, just,” you chuckle at yourself, at the worried voice of anxiety piping up in the back of your brain, “I know it’s silly, but will you make sure I don’t get, like… pulled under?” 

“Scout’s honor,” he pulls you into a hug, and you hug him back, resting your cheek on his bare chest. The ragged, jittery sparks in your ribcage calm to a low purr. Your muscles melt and untangle. Another wave washes ashore and rolls over your feet, then disappears.

He plants a firm smooch on your forehead, then rubs your back and murmurs, “Ready?” 

“Let’s fuckin’ do this,” you say in your most masculine tough guy voice, pulling back to grin at him. 

He snorts, shaking his head at you, brown eyes crinkled and twinkling with amusement, then grabs your hand and starts walking out into the tide as it rushes inland. When the ocean takes its offering back, you squeal at the sensation, how water pulls sand out from under you like a rug, coaxing you closer. Wild, salt-addled gusts whip your hair around and nip your generously exposed skin. Before you know it, you’re knee-deep in the icy water, wobbling when an incoming wave shoves you back and splashes up your thighs. 

You gasp and squeeze Dieter’s hand for stability. He steps behind you, wrapping his warm, sun-kissed arms around your body, purring in your ear, “I’ve got you, doll, don’t worry.” 

“Ok,” you nod, staring out into the deep, dark unknown, rooted in place by his fortitude, finally allowing yourself to marvel in the beauty of it all, “Ok.” 

Dieter watches you from bed as you rub moisturizer into your cheeks, leaning towards the bathroom mirror, making all these cute, squishy expressions. Little beads of water drip off the ends of your hair, still wet from the shower, onto the floor and counter. 

He’s never really been a forever kind of person. Up until about a year ago, every good thing in his life had been fleeting: flings, highs, gigs. The friendships he held onto were superficial and based in commodity. His marriage felt like a debt he owed. Companionship spoke foreign tongues. He never felt sated. Never felt like this. 

This. 

Fuck, he loves this. 

He thought people made this shit up. Forever. It always sounded like a joke. 

But it’s all he can think about. How he never wants to spend another night without you here, wearing nothing but his faded old Prince t-shirt, brushing your teeth, putting all your things away in the bathroom drawer. For-fucking-ever. 

When you flip off the bathroom light and come wandering back into the bedroom, you notice him staring at you, and chuckle, “What’re you smiling about?” 

Dieter didn’t even realize he was smiling, but you’re right, he is. With a shrug, he says, “You look pretty.” 

“Yeah?” you smirk, and twirl around a little, “Is this doing it for ya?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

You roll your eyes, that big beautiful smile stretching across your face, and crawl into bed beside him. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you tuck yourself into his side, ear to his heart. Probably, you hear it skip a beat when he realizes what he’s about to say. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

The seconds after are so quiet he hears your lips part. You shift around until you’re propped up on his chest, searching his face, “What’re you saying?” 

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He curls a hand around the small of your back, “I mean, you know, I want you to stay,” he swallows and meets your gaze, “Like, to live here.” 

Your features lights up, and it’s sweeter than any fucking buzz he ever caught. 

“Really?”

He nods. 

As if something occurs to you, your lips fall into a frown, “What about my baking? And-and Parker—”

“Open something up here. You always tell me about how you want to run a legit bakery,” he smooths his thumb against your spine, “Parker can visit us whenever he wants.” 

“I don’t have the capital to open a bakery—”

“I’ll help.” 

Your shoulders deflate a little and a crease forms between your brows. You tap your fingertips against his chest and ask, “Would you consider moving to New York?” 

He drops his gaze and shakes his head, “I have to be here. Better chance of me picking up work if I’m close by.“

“Dieter,” you pause, holding your breath like you’re not sure you want to say it, but when he meets your eyes, you stammer, “It just doesn’t seem like, I don’t know… Do you even like acting?”

The question feels like a jolt. 

He jerks his head back, “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.” 

You raise your eyebrows. Unconvinced. Stomach acid sloshes around inside him and bubbles up his throat. 

“It’s my purpose. Acting is the only constant in my life, the only thing that I do that means anything. It—it’s what gets me out of bed and pushes me to keep going.” 

He says this, but the words taste sour. Does he even like acting anymore? Or is he just scared to try something else? 

A glimpse of the answer in his heart sends it racing. He stuffs it down and tries not to look at it. It’s too fucking scary. 

You study him for a moment, then scrunch your face up and stare at your fingertips as they dance across his bare skin. Deep in thought. With each second that goes by, he’s sure you’ll press harder and make him crack. It wouldn’t take much. 

“I wonder how much money I could make selling my inventory,” you ponder out loud,  “Probably at least $20k. That would be an ok starting—”

His mouth drops open, “Holy shit, how much do you have?” 

You shrug, “Twenty pounds raw, thirty pounds cannabutter—”

“And I’ve been smoking you up?” he tuts, “Puta madre.” 

You gasp and smack his chest, breaking out in a giggle when you say, “Rude.” 

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, pulling you closer, “Smoking you up is an honor.” 

“Damn right it is.” 

The two of you smile at each other for a moment, then what you were saying catches up to him. 

“So, if you sell everything, then…” 

Your eyebrow quirks and your grin spreads wider as you shrug, “Then I could probably swing a cross-country move.” 

“Yeah?” 

His cheeks ache from smiling, but he can’t stop. 

You nod, “Yeah.” 

The shrill sound of your ringtone cuts through sleep. 

You roll out of Dieter’s loose grip to grab at the source, frowning first at the time, then the caller. Fucking FaceTime, seriously?

You pull Dieter’s shirt over your head and tiptoe out onto the patio, sliding the door shut behind you as you answer with a hiss, “Parker, it’s 3am, what the fu—”

“Lou, look,” he says, and you squint at the screen, recognizing the propped open door to your apartment building. The snow piles flicker blue and red. Parker pans the camera to the half-dozen NYPD squad cars clogging the street. Police officers and people wearing jackets reading NYPD FORENSIC INVESTIGATION DIVISION file in and out of the building, the outgoing individuals carrying boxes of evidence. 

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head, “What’s going on, are you ok?”

“That’s from your apartment, Lou,” he tells you quietly, “They fucking raided it.”

Panic seeps into your blood, an icy cold rush that numbs your limbs and freezes your brain. You just keep shaking your head, and hear yourself tell Parker, “No—no that can’t be right.” 

“Trust me, it is—”

“Excuse me,” an off-screen voice says to Parker, and the perspective shifts to the source: a bald white man with thick-rimmed glasses. He’s holding a camera, and he asks, “Do you live here?” 

“No,” Parker answers. 

Another wave of panic slams into you as you realize who he is: David Alterman from DIRT. 

You end the call and stare at the screen, unable to move. Unable to think. Just one thought blares in your mind, deafening and persistent: RUN.

[2n2n]

ch. 111

the plot thickens and I am thrown all around the room as if in a hurricane... I really cannot predict Iro-sensei's plots!!!!!!

oh Amane, all of your efforts, your gestures.... what a desperate, helpless feeling

its the most predictable response Tsukasa would have, but it still hurts very very much.

he's reaaaally strange isn't he... he's like that....

oh Amane.... you're so reactive to perceived rejection and failure. You'll say the worst things, you'll think the worst things... you're sooo unstable, Amane!

What, you simply don't accept that your otouto would 'try to leave you'? I bet it's something like that. You "know he's fake" now because he "wouldn't do something like this to you"... that's my guess at your dumb little brain. Don't take him too seriously, okay, Tsutsu? Your brother just can't handle the sense of rejection of you choosing to die & leave him behind, or he can't handle that all his gestures and attempts to show his love fell so flat that you have no idea at all of his desperate love of you. Nooooo you have to be fake~~~ my real otouto would understand and he'd never leave me~~!!! I don't think you, Amane, understand how suicidal your real otouto was, and is, to this day! Would you believe it has less to do with disregarding you, and more to do with not believing in his own life's worth? No, you won't believe that, right... it's about you, instead! hahaha....

I'm glad I played AidaIro's Snow White game because... Estelio is THIS HURTFUL to Rasphard, and it's just out of a sense of being rejected!!! Estelio would kick his twin's goddamn corpse on the ground, let him wriggle and DIE in pain and AGONY if Estelio has the impression Rasphard wants nothing to do with him or isn't considering him ... LOL. Iro likes this kind of ... troubled, insecure, desperate, spiteful, needy person... you want the perfect brother, who loves you. You have that, but you can't understand the idea of someone choosing to leave you through death....

I wonder if Tsukasa started grabbing your jacket to move you to protect you.... meanwhile, Amane impulsively moved to protect his ~~~fake otouto, haha!

I wonder ... if Nene-chan has her memories because, she is magical etc, or if Akane actively made Teru do something to her to enable her to... stay as an aware asset, since he isn't completely sided with the Clockkeepers... maybe Akane is waiting to see what 'new future' comes to be, and seeding a few tricks to utilize if he doesn't agree or wishes to pull out? (I mean, if the Severance never happened, Aoi definitely would not be his girlfriend haha)...

The clockeeper's circumstance is interesting enough. Its very Aidairo-core. But not enough for me to talk about haha.

swag, I have been right the whole time! cool. yep!! of course. logical haha!! I can't be too proud of myself, it's been spelled out ...

that same old God~~ our Tsutsu!

the year before the murder, when the boys were 12... fuckin scary place to go to. What on Earth are you changing... the circumstances of the shinjuu?

if we're 'fixing' the 'problem', I wonder if that means we'll be going into the original timeline, where Amane would likely still be alive-- he'd just be an old man, and Nene-chan's teacher at Kamome. Wouldn't that be so funny and interesting? Lol. What would we all do if Amane was "Yugi-sensei" and like, old! It would be very AidaIro core AHAHAH ahhh the agegap fetish--! It's not enough to have Sumire x Hakubo and Yako x Misaki and Kako x Mirai and the entire Monstery Nursery AUs LOL you know, we need more ahahahaah (HanaNene is already technically biiig agegap! I would laugh if actually making Amane like 60 woke some people up flfjdklfdjk)

I'm just not sure... Amane could just be dead, I guess, and Tsukasa. Or he could be alive, and old. I have a vague theory that he must be a kaii because of, whatever he or Tsukasa had done together during the shinjuu... (maybe Amane was impulsed to eat some part of Tsukasa, maybe the God blessed Amane at the last second, etc etc)... it's hard to imagine Amane would be a school mystery-- Tsukasa is his yorishiro after all... and we don't quite know what circumstances make Sumire and Tsukasa into objects, if being sacrificed to the God had something essential to do with that...

Well, so interesting, I wonder if Nene-chan will have to go even further than she did in Picture Perfect-- in that arc, she had to choose to reject a seemingly perfect, but ultimately fabricated, world; even if it was 'nicer' than the 'real world'. Now, she might be shown a world fixed of its cracks-- it could even possibly be a world Amane never had to murder his brother, like she wanted before. Nene-chan is so often getting "what she asked for" in the wrong way, at the wrong time. She fell in love with "Hanako". Is the boy she fell in love with "here"? Is he in a form she can confess to?

Furthermore, she just bonded with Tsukasa, and has knowledge of the Red House... must be essential, to write that happening before this-- just before, even. Tsukasa even inspired her to need to free herself, even if Amane isn't there to save her.

Poor Nene-chan though-- so scary!!! What an awful situation to be in HAHAHA, flung around...

I have no idea what Mitsuba's situation will be, but Tsukasa is responsible for our "Mitsuba" to even be around. He wouldn't have even managed to become the ghost about the entryway without Tsukasa kaii-ifying him through his first, vague wish.

Well, it would be funny if these things were all true now:

-Amane is alive, but he's old lol -Aoi is not Akane's gf, and maybe that other timeline was the only goddamn way you could ever get her within reach lol -No Mitsuba To Speak Of lol

MUCH POSSIBLE, MUCH TO THINK ABOUT-- MAYBE I'M WRONG ABOUT IT ALL!!! Iro-sensei writes such interesting plot twists WOO ahahaha! I WONDER IF WE WILL INTERACT WITH 12 YEAR OLD TSUKASA AGAAAIN~~ pleaaase ~~

feeling more certain than ever that Tsukasa is The single most tragic member of this cast hahaha

[merakiui]

MERAAAAA THAT AZUL BDAY FIC!! THAT AZUL BDAY FIC!!! Quite literally life changing mind altering brain melting life defining.

It was so good that I think I'm currently too excited about it to truly explain my feelings so apologies if I'm rambling nonsense😭

The way you wrote about the second years graduating and how their school life was slowly coming to an end made me nearly tear up ngl. All the heartfelt moment with the side characters were so good!! You truly capture them all so well. I like how you brought up Azul and Riddle's rivalry and Jamil's desire for a vacation. All those little moments added so much life to the fic.

this was such a sweet read, I must have squealed and rolled around in my bed out of excitement at least 10 times like a possessed maniac(it's 3 am in my region rn so I probably woke my neighbours up, whoopsies)

The way you write Azul is the best honestly, I think you capture Azul's smug loser energy so well. The two sides of him are balanced so well in your fics. I also liked the way you wrote about the reader and her experience of falling in love with Azul, and how she captured different sides of him with the photos. it was so precious to read about🥹

I'm so happy you wrote such a beautiful fic on Azul's bday!! He's truly worthy of it!! Thank you for your hard work and creating such a happy ending for him🫡 you deserve all the azul cards to come home to you the first roll, considering your services to Azul nation.

THANK YOU!!! (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!!!!!!! I am so honored it was an enjoyable fic that you could love so much!!!! It was so much fun to write!! Only the sweetest of stories for Zuzu. orz

I'm so glad you liked all of the interactions with the second years!!! Those were my favorite parts to write in the fic. Getting to write all of them was so fun. I love their interactions and how they're sort-of-but-not-quite-but-most-definitely in on Azul's crush on you mwahaha. Since the story is framed around graduation, I just had to include them! These are friends (all of NRC just visibly cringed at that word) they've known since the beginning and have attended classes with, school trips, etc etc. Of course they'd all feel sentimental at the thought of those four years finally coming to a close. T^T graduation days are always filled with lots of emotion, so I hoped to capture those bittersweet and exciting feelings in this story!

Omg,,, potentially waking the neighbors over Azul.... that is a very valid and completely normal thing LOL. Sometimes you just have to squeal over tako hehe. <3

Thank you for liking the way I write Azul!!!!! ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ he is very smug loser all the time. I like his two sides!!!! And Reader falling in love with him AAAAAAA!!! >w< I wanted it to feel a little like a slap in the face. Whereas Azul's been marinating in this love for two years, Reader has never quite understood why she feels so drawn to him until she finds herself stuck between him and...him. Those two Azuls did a number on her heart. ;;;;

I'm pleased to serve Azul Nation delicious meals. ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ he deserves the happiest of endings on his special day!!!!!!!! May you be blessed in gacha every time you pull for the beloved tako. :D