#it took way more steps than i thought like ive had the generator on my laptop since i got it i just. didnt use it

[sieglinde-freud]

worst yaoi youve ever seen

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 3 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments on the couch

warnings (TW): mdni, contains mature/suggestive content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use

tags: mature/suggestive content (in act iii), fluff, early relationship described, pining, affection

notes: please note that there is heavily implied/suggestive/mature content in act iii of this posting (after the second break)- if you do not wish to interact with this type of content i swear to you you can completely skip it if you like, i attempt to not tie TOO much significance to the written scene- and if you would prefer that the postings stray away from this kind of content i will attempt to better balance it in the future! i am in no shape or form a very “smutty” writer (mainly bc i have never written it), so i hope the scene isnt like… terrible ya know lol (also i don’t consider it much for “smut”- i am def using said word very loosly). annnnyyywayyys hope you enjoy and as always my dms are open for suggestions in the future and general conversation and encouragement! enjoy!

also to note! I believe the story is best read in order- i put certain dependences on certain words and bring descriptions back to really solidify the importance of certain scenes/interactions ! but completely up to you, lol

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked the up to date masterlist for this series- thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

| masterlist | part iv |

She had caught him sleeping on the couch in the early heat of June. 

They had a late night on the couch, discussing Ford’s margin notes and rewatching The Price is Wrong. Stan had a certain affinity for price matching, and she was more than a little stunned to learn of it the first couple of months they resided in the shack together. 

She just didn’t expect this 30-year-old man to know the price of most common household appliances. 

After his divulgence last month, in which he had confided a little bit of his background in sales, she began to piece together that although Stan considered himself a conman in every way but words, she considered it pure brilliance. 

So she quickly got used to late-night T.V. shows, as they discussed next steps back and forth, with Stan interrupting conversations to yell out extremely accurate prices at the small box T.V. in front of the couch. It had grown on her, actually, and had turned rather… endearing. 

If not also incredibly hilarious, as he was so passionate about his own accuracy he usually forgot his volume, and sometimes took to ranting at her. 

“Hun! Hun! This is a load of malarkey I tell ya! That vacuum price is way too high! It don’t even come with added nozzle attachments!” 

She would laugh, and he would revel in making her do so. 

They had concluded the night in a similar fashion, and she had stumbled up to her bedroom. The first one on the right from the stairs. But he had lingered in the living room, muttering about tidying up some soda cans and taking the trash out quickly. 

She had shrugged it off, giving her goodnight, and made her way up the stairs. She had fallen asleep so quickly, she hadn’t heard the usual meandering steps of Stan as he made for his own room across the hall from her. 

She almost never woke up before him, another thing that surprised her. She figured he was the type to doze in and out in the early morning, but he seemed to be quick to rise and even quicker to make a pot of coffee, usually stumbling down the stairs thirty minutes before she could manage to roll out of bed. 

So she thought it odd to look down the stairs and not see the usual kitchen light on, and the usual grumble of the shitty coffee machine either. 

She found him snoring on his back, the throw blanket she had brought with her half on half off him. It had grown a little muggy in the shack, due to the distinct lack of central air, but Stan’s solution seemed to be very simple. 

Just wear less clothes. 

Something that wouldn’t disturb her in the slightest, if it were not for, well… Stan. 

She was a scientist, a usual logical thinker, and only slightly prude (due to her upbringing), but she was no idiot, and she knew the man she was cohabitating with was attractive. 

I mean, he was also funny- made her laugh more times than she could count. He was oddly sincere for his age and even more oddly protective. He was flippantly affectionate and even more flippantly kind to her. 

And he was also shirtless. 

Something she takes note of instantly, instinctually. Whipping her head to make for the kitchen, and trying to forget the curve of his broad shoulders and the slight swell of his stomach. The smattering of dark hair on his chest all the way down to the crisp edge of the boxers she had folded two days ago. 

Coffee, coffee coffee! 

She didn’t make as good of a cup as he did, she had never had to before. Something he scoffed at, but quickly took to doing himself. He made it every morning, now. Always up before her, with her mug waiting for her by her worn kitchen chair. 

She turned to the stove instead, moving pans and turning on the burner. She’d make breakfast for them instead of her shitty burnt coffee special. Pulling eggs and bacon out of the small fridge she went to work. 

The smell woke him up, and she noted his groggy fumbling to redress himself. Glancing out the archway from kitchen to living room she watched him pass to the stairs, still shirtless. He takes the stairs two at a time, back up to his room to retrieve new clothes she presumed. 

He returns in minutes, in typical fashion it took him not too long to get ready in the morning. 

He walks in, still stretching, with hair muddled from sleep. A pair of work jeans that had seen a lot of love in the past month, and a shirt that was quickly growing too tight around his arms and shoulders. She decided to ignore that sliver of stomach that peaked out when he raised his arms a little too high, otherwise, the bacon would burn. 

He made his way to the coffee machine, beginning the usual morning routine as it spurred to life. Moving to the sink he began washing their shared mugs. 

Breakfast was always a little quiet like they both couldn’t be bothered to open their mouths beyond sating their appetite. They still moved the same, instinctually and without words. Falling into their unassigned assigned seats, Stan moving to grab her feet and drag them across his lap, while she moved the salt and pepper between them both. She always reached across to his plate, grabbing his toast to butter first and then moving to her own. 

She had decided to interrupt their usual silence this morning, looking across to Stan as he fumbled with the morning paper. He always went straight to the comics in the morning, hoping to pick up on a joke to read to her that day, hoping to make her laugh first before anything else in the morning. 

But she had thrown a wrench in his usual plan (that she still hadn’t picked up on yet). 

“Why were you on the couch?” She asked, biting around her toast. 

“It’s cooler down here hun.” 

“I know heat rises Stan, but the sun rises on my side of the house in the morning. It ain’t that hot upstairs yet. Is there something wrong with your bed?” 

When first rearranging rooms he had resolved to take Stanford's old one. He didn’t want her to have to live in the shell his brother had left behind. His more intimate nick-nacks and sticky notes had been scattered around what is now Stan’s room. Along with his random mismatched socks and sweater vests, and his cologne. And he didn’t want to think about having her live around the last remnants of Stanford, because she got this weird look in her eyes already when she retraced his brother's writings and he couldn’t stand it. He had lived with Stanford for eighteen years, and sometimes entering the room was at least therapeutic. 

Except Stanford always had a weird affinity for sleeping on the ground. 

It’s the main reason Stanley even had the top bunk during their preteen years to begin with, because Stanford would find himself stiff on the floor most mornings. His brother had a tendency to doze away on any hard surface he could rest his head on, starting at his desk most nights, moving to his bed, but usually rolling off it in favor of the floor. Stanford was… not one for restful sleep. And his hard ass mattress showed it. 

“Ya.” Stan muttered behind the newspaper. “‘Ford trying to fuck my back up from another dimension.” 

“You can have my bed?” She offered up her own mattress, one she had splurged on with her own money. He still remembers her playing Goldilocks that day at the flash mattress sale she had circled in the classifieds the week before. 

He shook his head at the memory, them both laying side by side on each bed as she had discussed odds and ends. She had argued that she needed approximately 5 minutes on each mattress to sink into each, and that she couldn’t be intrinsically thinking about her comfort when doing so. So she had him lay beside her and talk to her, as she flipped from her back to her side testing out her comfort and considered the gravelness of his voice. Until she had landed on the right bed, the tenth one, declaring it her perfect match as she looked over at him beside her. 

“Nah, I can’t take your perfect match, hun, your one true love.” He joked, folding up the newspaper with the comics up, setting it aside in favor of looking at her. “Besides my bed is fine for now. I just… sometimes I like being close to the door.” 

She hummed. “I can rearrange the living room today? Do you want to move your bed downstairs?” She hadn’t even questioned it, still searching for something to sate his comfort. 

He laughed at this, he would never let her rearrange things without him and she knew it. He had hovered something harsh those first three months, moving around most things for her as she pointed from object to object. 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I just, I ain’t used to sleeping in a room without a straight way out of it yet.” He admits, munching on his bacon, shrugging like he was discussing the weather. “So sometimes I just, sleep on the couch. No big deal.” 

She sits back in her seat, shock marring her face. He had spent so long hopping from place to place she had forgotten he hadn’t had a place to call home in a decade- besides his car. Something that may have four walls, but had no heart. 

Hotels, to cars, to floors of shelters, he had slept in questionable places for far too long, and in some cases Stanford’s room sometimes felt like a new prison, or at least reminded him of a certain Colombian one. Except this one contained taunting memories and a stupid amount of sweaters. 

It hurt more, to open his door to find hers closed, for some reason. He didn’t like the thought of her trapped either, nestled in a part of the house he couldn’t get to. But he didn’t know how to voice this to her without sounding mad in a way. Or obsessive maybe. 

She digs her toes into the junction of his ribs, grabbing his attention. She’s smiling across from him, and standing before he can ask why. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him up the stairs to their own parallel doors, not even hesitating to walk through the door Stanford used to call his own. 

She’s muttering under her breath as he stands in the doorway, landlocked by witnessing her in this exact space for some reason. She moves to the window, opening it all the way and fumbling with the screen. She gets it off and makes to climb out the window before he can protest. 

“If you want a way out, you got it right here!” She grunts, footing her way through to the shingled roof, his protests falling on deaf ears. 

“Get the fuck back in here!” He leans out, making to grab her. “Ain’t no way this shack's roof is any good!” 

She prances around, slightly mocking him by moving away from his waving arm. “Stan! It’s fine!” She laughs, the sun shining on her figure. Suddenly serious she stops, hands on her hips. “Seriously, if you need a way out, keep the window open, okay?” 

She crawls back through the window a moment later, using Stan’s hand as a weight as she balances back on the wooden floor. 

Still serious, she continues, “Stan if you need to keep the window open, you can keep the door open also if you feel like it.” 

She smiles like she has a brilliant idea, moving across the hall she opens her own room to display her own mess of things. “I can keep mine open also if it helps.” 

How the fuck had she read his mind? He was continually dumbfounded by her unquantifiable amounts of patience she had for him. Like it was a reserve she tapped into, to specifically deal with all his dumb bullshit. He would let it pile in the back of his head, but she’d reach back in and shake him awake, present him with a solution, and he forgets himself in his need to question “why?”. 

He had taken too long to respond, and she stands in the hall, hands wringing her too large t-shirt and looking surprisingly bashful. “Is this okay?” She asks, is this what you need? Vying for his approval as she continues. “Because really I don’t mind you sleeping on the couch, I really don’t, you can keep doing it if you like! Really! I just… I just…” 

Unspoken between them, he already knew. She meant well, she meant the best actually. She wanted him to be comfortable, here, with her. Wanted him to stop moving from place to place in the house because no where felt right because it all felt like a trap. Wanted him to know the four walls they shared could never be a prison, and that she didn’t want him to hop around anymore searching and clawing his way out of it. To not have to Goldilocks around the house, because across the hall from her had to be just right. 

And it was. Because she had read his mind as usual, and he was almost tired of being absolutely astounded by it. 

He nodded, smiling across from her, his confirmation in the squeeze he gave her hand as he reached for her again, and in the ruffling of her hair he gave her as he slipped from the house later. Making his way outside to his work, somehow lighter than usual.

They ended up on the couch most weekends, or at least most Saturday nights. 

She had insisted, against his better nature, that it was not appropriate to drink yourself into a stupor on a weekday. So he had gotten used to the shared moments on the weekend, routinely looking forward to shitty VHS movies and even shittier boxed wine and beer. 

She laughed at fucking everything when she was drunk. He almost wondered if she had ever been high, or if she even needed to be. He might as well be a stand up comedian most weekends, because if he thought he had a great audience Monday through Friday, well he had an even more endearing one on the weekends. 

It was a hot July night, and she had scoffed at his light beer that resided in the back of the fridge. Tisking at him as she danced around the kitchen, pouring sweet red wine into mugs (their only cups), and shooing him back to the couch. Only wine in the summer, only wine when it was this hot.

And it was hot, and humid, unsurprising for Oregon really. So hot in fact, that she had decided pjs were appropriate attire for the night, luckily for him. So he shed his jeans in favor of loose boxers and a well worn shirt. Unluckily for him, she had decided upon much the same wardrobe, which was odd for her and only uncomfortable for sober him. 

But he wasn’t sober anymore, and he had to admit she was rather enchanting hunched over on the couch, laughing at his shitty jokes with one of his old band t-shirts on, shorts that she made no indication of even owning, bagging up around the tops of her thighs. 

He had been intoxicated on numerous amounts of things, nothing, of course, too hard or addictive per say, but it’d be the first time he was this drunk on wine. 

And it was… different. 

He had scoffed at the movie she chose originally tonight. She always chose the second movie, and he chose the first. They had a habit of in depth discussing during films, especially when more intoxicated. 

But he had never been so incredibly invested in a romantic comedy in his entire life, he blamed his company and the alcohol. 

“I can’t believe that he thinks he stands a chance with the likes of her! She’s sacrificed so much! Her jobs on the line here and he won’t even consider marrying her for a green card!” He yelled, just about jumping at the screen. This man in the movie was ridiculous, demanding things from his assistant and throwing her away the next. 

She ran back into the room, mugs full with their next round. She had become the bartender tonight, waiting on him and grabbing snacks when he’d ask in exchange for rubbing her aching shoulders. 

“What did I miss!” She rushed back, handing him his mug and taking her seat back in front of him on the floor, her throw blanket being used as a cushion. 

He takes a sip, setting the mug aside her own on the floor and moving back to place his hands on her tense shoulders. 

“She’s being kicked out of the country right in front of her boss and he ain’t gonna do anything about it! She basically does everything for this man, why doesn’t he see he needs her?” 

She groans below him, her head rocking back as she takes her own drink. “Are we gonna discuss the intricates of them having a relationship though? I love marriage of convenience, don’t get me wrong, but that’s her boss! Isn’t there a weird power dynamic here?” 

“Oh ya!” He agrees, nodding along as his fingers began to dig into her muscles. “We gotta talk about that because if this gets creepy we gotta pick out a different one. He’s already pissing me off!” 

She looks up at him, eyes glowing with an idea. Enchanted, she moves away from him, crawling to the cabinet beside the T.V., and he really swears that he tries to look away. But he also reasons that it’ll be a while before he gets the chance to see her in shorts again. And fuck. 

She turns back, a new VHS in hand. “This!” She exclaims. “Now this is my favorite rom-com!” 

A shitty picture is well worn on the front of the movie sleeve, a VHS he doesn’t recognize from the donation bin sitting in her hands. She must have brought it with her, and she must have had it for a while. 

She crawls forward, movie in hand and a bright, flushed smile on her face. 

“Please, please, please Stanley! This one!” She all but yelled as she leaned up into him. His legs had already been parted to accommodate her sitting in front of him, but now were warm with her torso between them, as she crawled into his lap, movie still in hand and smile still on her face. She leaned up onto his chest, a fake pout on her lips as she looked up at him. 

He forgot himself for a minute, excusing her silently for calling him Stanley in her drunken plee. His hand finding her waist as he answered. 

“Okay, okay!” He snorted. “Better be a better love interest because this guy sucks.” 

He missed her as soon as she left, but his heart still felt something sick when she yelled victoriously on the ground, hand raised in celebration, movie clutched to her chest. Rolling from her current position to the VHS player and popping out the current horrendous movie. All the while she giggled, and he followed in much the same manner. Laughing while running his hand through his hair, trying to soothe himself to forget her warmth. 

She crawled back to him (fuck) settling back into his knees from her position on the ground. The title screen flashed, but he was much too busy watching it illuminate her face. Heart sick again when she leaned her head all the way back, hair across his knees and thighs, she smiles up at him, a thank you on her lips. Clutching his mug in her hands, bringing it to her lips for a sip before passing it up to him too. 

And when he carried her to bed that night he wondered when the tight sickness would leave him. He never closed either of their doors. 

It didn’t happen like this, that night. 

Not from what he could remember anyway, but he felt too groggy to care about accuracy and too intoxicated by the image of her to care much for what was right. 

Her hands had continued up his thighs from her place knelt in front of him, his back hot against the living room couch. She had climbed up on top of him, creeping up to sit on his knees and thighs like she had been there before. Her smile turned sweet into something twisted as she leaned in close to his face, the closest she had ever gotten to it. Whispering something between the heat between the two of them, something lost on him, as he tried to lean closer, tried to bridge the gap between their chests, aching to feel her against the very front of him. 

He knew it was different because she had never worn this in front of him before, at least willingly. He had caught her in the middle of the night, stumbling from her open bedroom door to the bathroom down the hall, panties striped and endearing on her ass. He had seen them in the washer, had seen her fold them and tuck them away. And she was in them, sitting on his fucking lap. 

His hands made for her, reaching behind her and dragging her close, his fingers edging the back of the band of her striped panties. 

She gasps like she does when she’s happy for him, always jumping from her position on the couch cheering along with him when he gets a stupid fucking The Price is Wrong answer right. 

And it’s how he imagined it, fuck, how he was currently dreaming of her noises. In bits and pieces he could remember, his brain scrambling to paint an image of her wanting him.  

Her hands edge along the back of his head, running through his long hair, and tracing to the front along his jaw. Mouth open, her fingers glide along the bottom of his lip, teasing. 

She whispers again, closer now. Her chest heaving against his own, her ass waits precariously positioned above right where he dreamt of her being. Right along the space he places her feet every morning, right where he thought she may kill him.

He catches it this time, between them. Her voice wavering like it had that day in the car when she had apologized for calling him him. He thought of begging for it, allowing her to say his name, but she had read his mind like she always fucking managed to do. 

“Please, Stanley.” 

He had surged forward like his own tidal wave, meeting her in the hot space between them. But he could only imagine a kiss with her, dream of it here. 

He imagined it slow, and building. Imagined her hesitation and the pout of her lip between his fucking teeth, imagined her moan when he eventually came back for more. 

Her hands pulled at his fucking hair, the only time she had placed them there to harm, and he groaned as she pulled him forward, meeting again in the middle of the heat they shared there on the couch. She moaned, her hips rushing to his own, making a new heat between them. 

The friction between them was the same as the kiss, slow and building. Grinding herself in the curve of his lap, right where they both needed each other. Every pass slightly faster, every groan from her more imagined, more unreal. 

The pressure felt real though, and her fingers in his hair felt even more so. His head thrown back on the couch, he looked down his nose at her, a groan leaving his throat as she makes a home in his shoulder, as her hips cause waves against his fucking lap. 

Her breath is hot on his neck, something real, and her echoing noises move up his shoulder to his ear and it makes him hotter than he could imagine. Her groans come to a precipice, getting higher in octave and volume and she thinks to fucking bite him there, right on his shoulder. 

The image she makes shakes him, his hands remembering where they are on her ass and hips, as he makes to work them harder, to somehow bring her closer and harder to the crook of his boxers. Her teeth nestle into him, and it makes him groan more, her hot breath and aching moans reverb off his skin back to him. 

It sends him reeling forward, his own head rushing off the back of the couch, groaning in heat, moving in blind passion. His head rests against the top of her own, his big hands digging into the fat of her behind, finger creeping in through the top of her panties. 

“Fuck.” He groans between them. “Fuck, honey.” His hips canting up, her moans echoing again, her teeth unlaching, like she can’t ground herself to him anymore, because all the movement is him now. He’s fucking using her, the pressure hot, and she peels back to look at him, a heat in her eyes he can’t have imagined. He must have seen it before, marring her face. He had, he swears, seen her with this heat in her eyes before.

He was using her. 

It stops just as abruptly as it began, and he wakes to his discomfort. His room is cool despite the morning sun, the curtains by his windows billowing out with September wind. His door wide open, and his hand curled around something that no longer needed relief. 

His other hand, clutching his hair in a fist. The back of his head tender from the pressure, and his fingers heavy from sleep. 

He got up quicker than usual, his heart still pounding oddly in his chest as he attempted to catch a breath he didn’t remember losing. On his way out of his room, dresssed for the day, he peaks into her parallel room, her door wide open like it was every day now. 

He groans low, she’s wearing the fucking stripes. 

He tries not to think about it the rest of the day, tries not to be disgusted with himself, but his chest aches something odd and his stride is somehow uneven for the rest of the day. His heart carries something sickly when he sees her that day, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt he’s oddly quiet that day, or that he doesn’t read her the morning comics like usual. 

She thinks it has something to do with how flushed he is, when she catches his staring that evening, as they sit beside each other on the couch, T.V. echoing in the background.

[nnight-dances]

CASUAL

PAIRING: karina x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut (explicit, but not too much?)

TROPES: fwb to lovers except you're roommates and best friends, unrequited love but not really.

LISTEN TO: casual by chappell roan

NOTE: i may be having a bit of a military wife moment rn but i'm still a sapphic at heart yearning for something more... my first gay fic i've posted on this account yay! cannot reveal if ive been in a similar situation but you could say this is based on real life! whose life, i will not say. hope u enjoy and stay safe everyone <3

knee-deep in the [twin bed] and you're eating me out

you want to say you're in control when it happens, but you'd be a big fat liar if you did. truth be told, karina had you wrapped around her finger since she moved in. (in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.) 

you met her late freshman year in college when you shared a gender studies course with her – which alone would've been enough of a clue to which ways she swings, if not for the black leather jacket and unnecessary amount of rings she wore to class. she'd sat next to you the first week in and approached you after class. "this class is a bore," she said as a matter-of-factly, "wanna get coffee with me?" 

you'd agreed because you were mesmerized (even though secretly, that was the favorite course you took that year) and followed her into a cafe, letting her sweet talk you into all kinds of things from there. she had a big friend group which welcomed you generously when they found out you were friends with karina and eventually, that became your everyday life. 

you worked on papers sincerely while karina watched you with an unreadable glint (maybe it was unreadable, maybe you didn't want to read too much into it), swirling her untouched coffee. eventually one day, she asked you, "wanna be roommates next year?" 

that was karina. easy-going and confident. she didn't hesitate to ask you to do things with her, even if they were often bending the boundaries of what friends could do. exhibit a: she'd asked you to make out with her at a party just so she could shake off a creep. in general, she was touchier than the normal person, finding a way to cup your stomach under your shirt when you weren't looking. you get the idea. 

that's how when she moves into the same room as you sophomore year, you lost all sense of self and reality. you have to thank your mom who convinced you to arrive on campus a day earlier than most, so you could settle in without the bothersome crowd. 

you're in the middle of fixing a poster of your favorite band, the strokes, in the wall when she lets herself in with a, "you're already here, jagiya!" you almost lose your footing on your chair in order to face her, heart already a fluttering mess thanks to her shameless flirting. 

"karina!" you call out, thrilled to see your friends, complications aside. you step down carefully before throwing yourself in her waiting arms. "you're here earlier than i thought."

she pulls away with a devilish grin, "missed you too much so i came early." she looks around the room, "i see you've already made this place home."

you smile, unsettled by the way she's still holding you in her arms, your bodies attached at the hip as she takes in her home for the next year. she smells like she always does: like grapefruit and spicy cedar. you feel relaxed in her embrace, taking in her appearance. she's wearing a cropped tank with a large flannel that slips off her shoulder thanks to the heavy tote she carries.

with a sigh, you take the tote off her. "your hair grew longer," you comment as you place the bag on her desk. karina does a little spin for you, giving a full view of the wavy locks that came all the way to her navel. it only made her that much more charming (you couldn't resist wanting to know what it would feel like to run your fingers through them). 

you watch as karina lugs all her stuff into the room, refusing your help with a strict look. "can't have you spraining something already, jagiya," she quips and that's all it takes for you to sit back obediently. she takes off her flannel, letting you take in her arms. was it just you or did her biceps get bigger? (it wasn't just you. karina spent her summer the gym rat way.)

"you barely have any stuff…" you murmur mindlessly when she's nearly done in half an hour. for reference, it took you three whole hours for two days to set your stuff in place.

"you just have a lot of stuff," karina laughs, closing her closet with a satisfied clap. "thoughts on ordering in for din'?"

you raise a brow, "shouldn't we at least go see if everyone's back?"

she shrugs, "we can just go after we eat." she approaches your bed, resting her forearms next to you. "come on, i don't feel like eating that prison food just yet."

despite karina's exaggeration (your dining hall makes perfectly edible food), you let karina order for you. who are you kidding? the thought of sharing a meal with your newly established roommate in your new room on your first day together… it was sweet, you had to admit. so you give in and tell karina exactly what toppings you want on your bowl. 

but where you had expected to bond in all kinds of cozy ways with karina, the night quickly an unexpected turn. you're not sure how it happens but you end up caged under karina's body on your bed. her hot breath is hitting your face, "you got even prettier over the summer, huh?"

her words make it harder to think. to think about how this your best friend slash roommate slash the person you would do anything for. fuck, it's too late and you're too helpless when it comes to her. karina's already sliding her hand down your stomach, eliciting a mewl of her name from your throat. 

she looks pleased, chesire grin lighting up her face when she reaches your panties. "mhm, karina–" you claw at her shoulder when a cold finger meets your slick folds. she kisses your cheek and then your mouth, so strong that you can't do anything but hold her closer to your chest till she's ripping a scream from you. 

"karina, what are we doing?" you cry out, still coming down from your orgasm. what the fuck, this not a situation to be with your roommate.

"what?" she whispers, lips attached to your neck without a care in the world, "i'm just doing what i've been wanting to all summer."

"okay, that's enough," you push her off until you're both sat. you're breathless so it doesn't help the gravity of the glare you hold karina captive under. she sits back on her palms, eyes hooded. 

"we're friends," you start and sensing the protest rising in her, you hold up a hand, "and roommates. you know what they say about that, don't you?"

"don't shit where you eat," she deadpans, "but i don't care. i'm not shitting anywhere. i like you, you like me. that's why we're friends. if we want to fuck around a little, what's the big deal?"

you contain a scoff at how unbothered she is. at the same time, her words stab you in the heart, the subtle friendzoning nature of them not going unnoticed (that's why we're friends? what if you wanted to be more?)

"listen, jagiya," karina shifts dangerously closer, a thumb wiping away the sweat on your lip. "it's chill. we don't have to if you don't want to. but i'll tell you right now; i want to do things with you."

"things?" you breathe even though you know you shouldn't fall into her trap.

"yeah," she caresses your cheek, licking her lips, "want to kiss you. make you come. that sort of thing."

you fall against her weakly, feeling the soft strands of her hair envelope you like a dream. with your eyes closed, all you can feel is warmth of her body and none of the cold of her words (kiss, fuck, chill. no love.) 

"only if you let me eat you out, too," you finally murmur against her skin. feel her shake with laughter.

"thought you'd never ask."

you wake up in karina's arms. she'd dozed off in your bed as if hers wasn't two hops away. the thoughts makes you flushed (despite everything) and you turn around to face her. she's still asleep, peaceful as ever. you trace the mole below her lips, envious of how little she was attached to you.

not to drown yourself in self-pity, you had always been too attached to karina for your own good. a week into being friends with her, you would jump at a text from her, dropping everything to meet at her the cafe she had wanted to try or to help her get ready for a party. 

but it wasn't without reason. she was sweet to you, genuinely. karina sensed your moods smoothly, knowing when your silence was more than comfortable and when your drunk crying meant you were actually upset over something. she listened to you, no matter how little you claimed the problem to be, her reliable shoulder always yours when you were in trouble.

so you couldn't blame the butterflies in your stomach at waking up with her. right?

"we never made it to meeting our friends," karina mumbles through a yawn later. you're both in the middle of getting ready for the day, thankfully still a grace day before classes start. 

"you clearly had other plans," you purse your lips in the mirror, working on fixing a bump in your hair. stupid karina and her arm under your head all night. 

she comes up behind you with a playful smile, taking the brush from your hands to rake it through your hair herself. "you say that like you didn't have fun," she says. she brings your hair into a bun, taking a hairtie off her wrist to secure it in place. patting your head with eyes on you in the mirror, "there. you look cute."

you heave a deep sigh at the motions that stir up at her actions, sliding away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. "we should go meet them today," you say, "or they might declare us dead."

"definitely," karina laughs.

meeting your friends helps you a little. maybe it's because you're seeing them after so long or maybe it's just the fact that you have normal friend feelings for them. but it's nice, you can lose yourself in a nonsense conversation with seungkwan about your recently acquired obsessions with various mobile games.

he's in the middle of offering to show you his brand-new coffee machine when karina shouts, "guys! gather up! minjeongie is driving us to get ice-cream! on her!"

you spot the short blonde attacks on karina at the presumably false declaration. your rommate dodges well, bent in a fit of laughter at minjeong's tantrum. "okay, i lied! everyone buy your own ice-cream."

as it turns out, minjeong's car is definitely not big enough to fit all 8 of your friends. "looks like we're fighting it out the fairest way," seowon declares, readying her fist for rock paper scissors. 

"since only five of us can go," karina starts, somehow finding her way next to your side. you shiver when her hands clasps yours. "minjeong, y/n, and i are definitely going."

you watch in shock as everyone wreaks havoc at her words. "now why would we allow that–"

"see, it's technically just two seats taken," she explains calmly, "y/n's sitting on my lap anyway." you gape at her audacity as she holds up your intertwined hands, like a wedding announcement.

you try to weasel out of her grip, mumbling, "that's fine. i don't really want to go–"

"what? of course you do," karina's hand tightens and you curse her strength, "you love ice-cream, jagiya. come on. let's go."

your friends seem dubious of the interaction but with a few statements along the lines of they're in their honeymoon phase as roomies, they return to the rock-paper-scissors battle at hand, now the stakes reduced to four seats now. 

"calling shotgun by the way!" karina calls as she pulls you after. you don't know what to say honestly, overwhelmed by her hand in yours. you had expected her to pretend things were the same as always but clearly not: you had never gone as far to sit in her lap with your friends around (alone was a different story. but you swear you'd only ended up in her lap because she'd wanted to hug you through your breakup with your ex.) 

"karina, you're crazy," you tell her, finally shaking your hand free. you cross your arms and karina simply takes a chug of water from the brita in geum's minifridge. 

"why? because i volunteered my lap so we'd get to go?"

before you can really give her a piece of your mind, minjeong interrupts. "looks like they figured out the winners. we're leaving in the next five minutes or the offer's off the table."

– 

two weeks and your mom invites me to [lunch]

"y/n, it's so nice to see you again," karina's mom is saying, sliding a menu toward you. thanksgiving week was around which meant parents were abundant on campus these days. it also meant your own mom couldn't make it because she was swamped with work, no thanks to her job as an on-field reporter. 

"of course, you've lost so much weight since we last met, eommeoni," you smile.

this is fine for the most part of it. you genuinely enjoy karina's mom's company. she's kind and sincere, always bringing a gift for you along with karina and treating you like her own. but this time around it's different because it's the first time you've been sleeping with her daughter.

in fact, just that morning, karina had kept you in bed longer than usual, complaining because you had gone to bed earlier than usual. it had been part of your plan to keep your conscience clean for when you met her mother, to make sure you didn't lose her respect. but being the nefarious idiot she was, karina had crawled up your torso, eyes going sweet at you, "please, just once?"

so now you had a dirtier conscience than usual, having been panting in karina's lap just hours before this lunch. 

but even if you tried to maintain composure in front of her mom, karina made it impossible. she slid close to your shoulder, hand splayed across your bare thigh (curse you and your decision to wear your sundress out today). it's honestly harmless and even excusable as a friendly gesture, but ever so occassionally, her hand climbs up, reaching closer and closer to a position that was far from appropriate.

"so tell me, do you two have any classes together this semester?" karina's mom asks you between mouthfuls of rice. you take the chance to peel karina's hand off but it ends up at your knee like a magnet. 

"not really," karina answers easily as if unaware of the power struggle going under the table. probably because she was winning by a mile. 

"i told karina she should take an elective with me but she refused," you complain, deciding if this was the way you could hit back then so be it.

"i think you forgot to mention it was an economics elective," she corrects you, hand basically clawing at your inner thight by now. you shift uneasily and karina's mom laughs.

"you know jimin," she shakes her head, "she doesn't take the serious courses. only painting all day long."

"eomma," karina groans, "how many times do i have to tell you? it's not just painting. i'm an arts major. that's like the second hardest major at this school."

"really? what's the hardest major?" (the only right question for a mother to ask.)

the rest of the lunch goes by quickly, fortunately for you. you're the first out the door, eager to put some distance between you and karina. you pretend to fan yourself out of the hot mess she's made of you.

"i have to say," karina's mom says as she gets ready to leave, "you two seem to have gotten closer since you started rooming together."

"really?" karina wonders as if clueless to the arm around your shoulder, where it had been the whole walk back to campus from the restaurant. (insufferable, you whisper to her. cute, she accuses you.)

"thanks for sticking next to her, y/n. who knows where my little girl would be without you?"

you brush of karina's mom's words of flattery, not voicing the thoughts that arise. where would i be without your daughter? 

– 

i know what you tell [our] friends

imagining a life without karina becomes terribly real when it becomes clear to you that karina truly has no intentions of treating as anything more than a friend who she sleeps with and not just as roommates. 

it's a cold slap of reality that you finally feel one day when you're eating with minjeong and seungkwan. karina's next to you, like she so often is, hand on your elbow for no good reason.

"so everyone's been wondering…" minjeong starts to say and seungkwan shoots her a glare, realizing where this was going.

"...are you two a thing?" she points to the point of contact between you and karina.

"what?" you squeak, pulling away at the call-out. but your mind goes blank, all the excuses you had practiced in your head deserting you. you had expected someone to catch on sooner or later, but somehow right now all you can think of is how you already miss karina's touch. i'm in love with her, it occurs to you to say. (wait, you love her? you wonder distantly as if the answer hadn't been crystal clear the minute she crossed lines with you.)

karina shrugs, "we're fucking. but it's casual. no attachment or anything." she adds with an arm around you, "just girls being girls, right?"

you muster out a laugh to agree with her, ignoring the concerned look seungkwan pins you with. minjeong seems convinced though, "no way! you're sleeping together? i guess it must be convenient… you live together."

"yeah, you could say that," this time it's you responding, swallowing the tremble in your throat. you'd rather die than let karina get a whiff of your true feelings. you stand up.

 "it's easy." it's the hardest. "not a big deal." you thought about it every waking second. "i have class now though. see you guys later." 

you did not have class. you ran to the nearest bathroom stall to lock yourself in and let out the sobs that had been threatening your system for the past three weeks. you make sure nobody can hear you and then wipe your tears with the spare tissues you carry in your bag. 

you leave, hoping nobody notices your red eyes. 

that night, you go to your room later than usual, counting on karina to be asleep. you should know better though because she's up, in nothing but her night shorts, sitting on your bed. 

it almost frustrates you for a moment, the sight of her curled up so comfortably on your bed like you were lovers. but you weren't. you weren't even close. but she perks up like maybe you are, calling out your name sweetly, "you're so late today. is everything okay?"

"yeah," you say, not making eye-contact for too long as you rest your bag on your desk. you contemplate leaving the room just so you didn't have to feel this hot volcano erupt in your chest. but instead, you undress, aware of karina's unwavering gaze. you make sure to slip off your pants and put on a baggy shirt. no shorts, like karina liked.

"we're a fully dressed person put together," she liked to joke when she'd bring your bodies close. you laughed along but all you wanted was to actually be one person with her. maybe that would justify why you were so attracted to her. 

"come on,," she coos when you jump into bed. "i know something's wrong. your eyes are red. your shoulders heavy."

"can't lie for one second with you, can i?" you sigh into her skin when she hugs you. 

"sorry, jagiya. maybe if i was a man, you could get away with it."

maybe that would make it easier. if one of you was a man. at least then someone would bat an eye at the concept of a no strings attached situationship between best friends. you were practically begging for someone to object to its apparently platonic nature. (you were begging yourself.)

"i didn't even shower," you complain when she explores your bare stomach with her fingers.

"it's fine. we'll just take one in the morning."

she holds you to the promise, waking you up half an hour earlier than usual just so she could drag you into the shower. two girls showering together, a sight nobody would see because it was dead quiet until an hour from now. 

– 

i try to be the chill girl 

you knew it was too good to be true, your friends-with-benefit situation with karina. but now that your feelings are actually catching up to you, you can barely hold in the tears that overwhelm you when you look at her.

then, when you finally decide to suck it up and show up to dinner with your friends, it all goes south. thanks to some dumb group project karina's doing, a guy named taeyong was at your table. you knew him by name from college gossip. he was fit to be the protagonist of a rom-com, nice guy with the looks to go with it and he was friendly, fitting right in with the group of friends. 

bitterly, you reflect on how long it had taken you, in comparison, to warm up to everyone. a month, maybe? plus, he looked perfect next to karina, their unusually good looks matching each other's quality.

you're not the only thinking that because geum pipes up, "you two look good together! when's the wedding?"

seowon hits his arm though most of the people on the table join in laughter. (you don't.) "come on, you can't force it, geum," she says, "they're clearly still getting to know each other."

"so it'll be official in say, a week from now?" minjeong teases, earning herself a blush from taeyong. karina is unruffled but she does smile a little at the teasing comments, side-eyeing the boy next to her.

right. they did look good together. 

much to your discomfort, karina and taeyong only seem to become closer, with the latter frequenting your table at every meal. he assimilated easily with the group, already circulating inside jokes that you were conveniently not a part of.

speaking of which you were circulating a word tornado yourself: casual, no attachement, chill, convenient, easy… not a big deal. as taeyong became a regular with your friends, you became increasingly absent, coming up with excuses to take your meals at much earlier or later hours.

you're officially spiraling, doing your best to avoid karina. but avoiding karina meant avoiding your friends. it was a harsh truth but you came to realize you were only friends with them because of her and if you decided to break things off with her, you'd also end up a loner.

it was a cold, miserable place to be in, your mind. you left your room early and came back late to karina asleep. she'd tried to stay up for your sake a few times but you'd made your arrivals later and later, until she gave up and went to sleep. 

you know you can only avoid her for so long before she caught you and grilled you but for now, you just had to come up with a way to keep yourself occupied. that afternoon, you get a text from her, asking to talk to you after dinner. you leave her on read for hours before texting back a quick "sure," afraid to go too far. you may be mad at karina for treating you in ways that left you confused, but you didn't actualy want to hurt her. 

but come the time when finally face her and you realize it may be too late. 

"so… why exactly have you been avoiding me?" more than anything, karina's voice is weary. she appears worried when you first take a seat across from her but when you don't look like you're in actual physical pain, her expression morphs into one of frustration.

"i'm not," you sigh, "i'm just busy."

"busy during every single meal? busy enough to leave before i wake up?"

"i'm taking more classes than usual," you say and though it's the truth, it's far from being the reason why you were acting this way. karina seems to know this. 

"i'm taking an art class that has me staying back in the studio till 11," she tells you. only then, you notice the black charcoal marking her cheek. "but i still come home."

"sorry," you mumble, averting your gaze. "i'm not– you didn't do anything. i'm just… thinking through some things. i'll come back to the room earlier today."

"great, so now we're not close enough for you to share your thoughts with me?" this time karina actually sounds hurt. it was the indication of your friendship finally falling apart that has her sitting forward, eyes blinking in panic. "y/n, what the fuck?"

what the fuck, indeed. you try your best to reassure karina but it seems like she's done talking to you after that point so you see yourself out. a small part of you manages to wonder whose jacket was laid across the chair next to her. taeyong?

you find the answer the hard way when you come back to your room at a reasonable hour for the first time in a week. only to run into taeyong himself.

he seems like he's in a hurry when you step in, rushing to put his jacket on (yes, the jacket that you saw next to karina earlier today) and avoiding your gaze. you don't even pretend to seem pleased encounter him there.

you fix your glare on karina, kneeling on her bed. she lets out a sigh when she sees you. "you're finally back."

you watch as taeyong leaves without a goodbye and you scoff, "i feel like i interrupted something. maybe i shouldn't have come back." you feel the blood rush to your head, all your convictions to lay out your unreciprocated feelings out to karina because she deserved an explanation.

right now, you just feel empty. and mad. so as soon as you rest your bag, you get to changing. but not into your night clothes.

"are you going somewhere?"

"...maybe."

"and what happened to our talk earlier?"

with a huff of disbelief, you throw your sweaty shirt on your bedroom floor. "well, i decided it meant nothing when i saw that guy leaving our room."

"taeyong?" karina looks baffled and you want to shake some sense into her so bad.

"yeah, i don't know, karina, the thought of you already replacing me with some dude–" you cut yourself off when your voice breaks. "it's not a great feeling. so i'm just gonna leave."

"wait, what?" karina jumps out of her bed. "is this what you've been mad about all week?"

you pause your angry movements about your space when she comes close to you, touching your arm, first contact in days. you breathe unevenly, "karina, i just need some time–"

"are you crying, jagiya?"

you want to say it's stupid nickname that gets to your nerves finally breaking your walls down. but really, it's the warmth in her tone, the sound of her breath hitting your ear so close. you'd missed karina. that's why you end up sobbing, arms finding her neck to support you. 

"karina, i'm–" she rubs your back calmly through your sobs. "i'm sorry."

"what's wrong, baby? why are you crying? please, talk to me."

"i think… i'm in love with you."

your confession is quiet, just like your love for karina has always been. actually no, that's what you want to think but no, your love is loud: you look for her in every room you enter, hands already welcoming hers when she runs over to you. you're the first to laugh at her jokes, no matter how nonsensical or how many times she's told them to you. you may be a flustered mess when things got intimate, but you always made sure karina felt good, too – going far beyond your comfort zone to please her.

karina pulls away with a soft gasp. "that's not what i expected you to say."

"i know," you sniffle. "but it's been killing me. i know you wanted to keep things casual. and i know you and taeyong are–"

"okay, just so we're clear for once and for all– there is nothing between me and taeyong."

you freeze in shock, having been rock-solid in your assumption of their relationship. "what?"

"come on, i barely know the guy. but apparently, everyone's teasing got to his head," karina sighs, "he came here to confess to me earlier today. and i rejected him."

now his urgency to leave the room makes even more sense, you realize slowly. but you realize another thing: karina had looked cold when you'd entered, ending things with him clearly. yet, here you were, standing with her arms around your waist as if you hadn't declared your love for her.

"...and?" you prod her, biting your lip hopefully.

"and?" karina echoes you, eyes locking in yours to understand your hint. "oh, you wanna know how i feel?"

you nod coyly, a stray tear falling down your cheek as if on cue. 

"well, let's start with a recap of this week. you ignored me so i felt like shit for most of it. and then you ignored me some more and i had to go to sleep lonely and sad. then, you stopped showing for meals so i didn't even want to eat anymore. what happened next? oh right, this evening. i had to practically beg you to talk to me–"

"okay, i get the idea!" you stop her with a groan, "i'm sorry, but i clearly had good reason to act the way i did."

"did you?" karina is suddenly holding your face, smiling turning bittersweet. "you idiot."

"huh?"

"i wanted to keep things casual because i wasn't sure how you felt about me. i wanted you to keep your options open till someone who you actually liked came along–"

"but–"

"this was long before i knew you were into me like that. you're really hard to read, you know? but yeah, i kept things casual because i'm selfish. i wanted to sleep with the girl i love without losing her friendship. i was obviously an–"

"idiot!" you hit karina's arm repeatedly at her revelation, tears filling up your vision yet again. "you love me?! why would you do that to me, then? are you–"

karina catches your fists in her with a heave, "i know, i know. i'm sorry, jagiya. but–" she brings your first to her chest, exposed by the deep neck of the tank she wore to sleep. "i'm serious about you, okay? i didn't want to gamble someone i cherished over some fucking around."

your body feels weak now that the truth is out in the open. you lean into karina. "you're so mean," you say into her neck, "i thought… you were chill."

she laughs at your complaint, "sorry. i'm dumb. dumb in love?"

you let karina coax you into her bed that night, kissing your body free of the tension you'd carried all that week like she was nursing you back to health. you can't help the tears that escape at her sweet touch, not new for her by any means – but different for you nevertheless, now that you knew how she felt. later that night, when you're falling asleep in her arms, in her twin bed this time, you feel her snuggle closer. warm nose against your cold cheek, she kisses you goodnight. (and a soft love you that you can barely distinguish from a dream.)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 19

Series Masterlist

Warnings: strong depictions of illness; very minor suggestive situations

A/N: Super angsty with generous amounts of cuteness. Reader will eventually get to be a badass. But this chapter focuses on articulating the grave situation.

You were pacing outside the bedroom door, wringing your hands just to keep as many parts of your body as possible moving so you wouldn’t combust. Hershel had insisted you wait outside in case it was something possibly contagious that took Daryl down. Even though you’d spent a lot of time close to him, you were showing no symptoms, so the veterinarian thought it best to be safe rather than sorry. 

You could hear Daryl coughing through the door, the sound sudden and harsh, followed by a groan each time that gave you hope that he’d possibly woke up. He’d been dead weight in your arms when everyone had burst in to help. The others had returned just in time, a heavy coat and gloves in tow for Daryl like you had requested. Rick and T-Dog had carried him up the stairs while Lori and Carol put forth effort to keep you back. You had shrugged them off and followed until Hershel stepped in. 

“Y/N, you’re gonna pace a groove into the floorboards.” Carol stood by, watching you, refusing to go about her evening duties and leave you alone. “Y/N.”

You finally paused but didn’t look at her. She didn’t get a chance to comfort you before the door opened. Hershel and Maggie stepped out, whispering between themselves in a way that made your chest tighten. 

“I’ll go get Beth and Carol to help me make a list. Carol?” The eldest Greene placed a hand on Carol’s arm, giving her enough time to assess you before she reluctantly followed. 

“Is he okay?” You asked quietly. You and Hershel were alone outside the door now, the old man’s face smooth with a calm you wished you could muster. 

“He likely had a virus that developed into pneumonia from breathing in the cold air. His lungs are full of fluid and inflamed, which accounts for the rattle when he breathes and, of course, the cough.”

“I know what pneumonia it is.” You interjected, a hint of irritation lacing your tone. “What needs to happen?”

“Ideally, we’d start an IV with fluids and antibiotics. If we can get the fluids and manage some oral antibiotics, we can make those work too. He needs those two things for certain. Fever reducers and cough suppressants would be beneficial. I will check for Tylenol in my things, though I fear I may have given you the last.” 

You crossed your arms above your belly, hugging yourself tightly, and bounced on the balls of your feet, your brain running on overdrive. “Maggie’s making a list?” Hershel nodded, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. “Okay, I’ll go see when we can leave.”

“Y/N, wait.” For an old man, he sure moved quickly, stepping into your path. You knew what he would say. He would advise you not to go, that you shouldn’t put your baby in danger. For fuck sake, you knew that. “I can’t tell you what to do. We’ve established that. And I know that Daryl means a lot to you.”

“With the utmost respect, Hershel, please get to the point.” Your tone was level though inside, you felt like yourself crumbling. The world just took and took and when you would start to feel safe, it didn’t hesitate to remind you of the devastation it could bring. 

“I’d like you to stay with Daryl.” Your rebuttal melted on your tongue when he held up a hand. “I will do everything in my power to care for him but I need to be able to care for you too. Maggie is capable. She’ll have help. Daryl needs you here.” 

“I just—”

“There will be no getting him to cooperate if he finds out you left. You know this.”

You threw back your head and let your arms fall. Of course he was right. And once again, you felt useless. “I know.”

“You know, you are doing more for that man in there than anyone in this group ever could hope to do and I’m not just speaking of the child.” He smiled at you with such kindness. It reminded you of your father, your eyes burning. “Remember that.”

You nodded and sniffed. The old man’s footsteps retreated as you leaned your forehead against the door. Daryl was coughing on the other side. Hershel would have told you if you shouldn’t go in. Most strains of pneumonia were not contagious beyond the virus or bacteria that caused them. If you hadn’t contracted the cold or flu that Daryl had before this, it was unlikely you’d be infected now. 

Turning the knob, you pushed on the door, steadily controlling how quickly it opened to keep it from making a lot of noise. Daryl was under the blankets, one arm lying across his stomach and the other at his side. His face was tilted away from you.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt but if you ventured to guess, he was likely not wearing anything. Hershel would have checked for bites. The hunter wouldn’t have kept that hidden. You knew that but maybe they didn’t. 

His chest rattled and wheezed with each breath, appearing to take a lot more effort than should be necessary. You wondered if they would search for oxygen tanks. Maggie is capable. They would. You needed to stay right there and not try to micromanage. Daryl needed you more. 

There was already an old, cushioned chair next to the bed. Perhaps Hershel used it or maybe Maggie moved it there for you. Regardless, you lowered yourself into it, remaining on the edge so you could easily reach Daryl’s hand. 

His skin was overly warm and dry, the sound accompanying each labored breath was somehow worse at that proximity. Seeing him so still reminded you of finding him injured back at the farm, how afraid you had been at the thought of losing him. That fear had experienced then resurfaced with a vengeance, squeezing your lungs so tightly that you imagined Daryl could breathe with more ease in that moment. 

“Prolly shouldn’t be in here.” 

You visibly startled, nearly sliding off the edge of the chair. “Jesus, Daryl, don’t do that.” You had to take a moment to get your heartrate under control before meeting his scarcely open eyes. It was as if whatever energy, whatever stubbornness, that had been keeping him going had just drained out of him. “How’re you feeling?”

“How ‘m I lookin’?” He wheezed. He coughed without opening his mouth until he could get his arm to obey him and cover the lower portion of his face. He inhaled his food like a human vacuum but at least he covered his mouth when he coughed. 

“Fair point.” You took his hand again and held it between yours. He didn’t pull away. 

“Just need a night an’ I can get back out there.”

You instinctively began to heat up in anger. How could he even think he was fit to be out of bed, much less hunt or take watch? How many times were you going to need to remind him that he needed to care for himself as well? After the initial desire to throttle him had passed, you leaned forward to rest your elbows on the mattress. “We’ve been over this. You can’t run yourself into the ground to take care of me, Thumper, or anyone else. You've done that. You’re really sick, Daryl. And I’m scared.”

“Ain’t gotta be scared.” His fingers wiggled weakly, slowly between your hands. You moved one away so he could squeeze the other. “Ain’t gonna be in this bed long.”

“You’ll be in this bed until Hershel says you can leave it.” You replied sternly. Despite the tears in your eyes, you firmly held his tired gaze. 

He challenged you, indignation carved into every line of weariness. When you didn’t waver, he backed down, much to your relief. “Fine.” He coughed again, coming up off the pillow from the force of it. You released his hand and stood over him, grabbing the old pillow from the other side of the bed. Luckily the dust had been beaten from the fabrics before you were in that room. You slid an arm behind his neck to help him sit up a little, placing the pillow behind him. “Could’a done it myself. Ain’t a invalid.”

“I know you can do things yourself. You’re just not seeming to comprehend that you aren't alone anymore. That someone cares for you.” Loves you. You were still standing and took notice of the bowl of water on the table with a piece of fabric hanging over the edge. Very likely Maggie was trying to bring down the fever. Licking your lips, you dipped the damp material into the cool water and wrung out the excess. With the slightest hesitation, you sat down close to his hand and began to dab the feverish skin of his face. Daryl probably didn’t even realize he sighed when his eyes fluttered closed. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

Fever-bright blue reappeared to study you. He didn’t seem upset but the hunter was known for his sudden shifts in temperament. You simply continued what you were doing, moving on to his neck. He coughed weakly, bringing his arm toward his face while you moved yours to make room. The spell was brisk, your limbs trading again but you felt his fingers brush your swollen belly. 

After another moment, Daryl grunted with a look of absolute feigned irritation. Though you knew you had won this round, you kept your expression neutral and leaned close to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Thank you.”

His eyes were closed but you didn’t miss the twitch at one corner of his lips. His only reply was another grunt. 

The night was nearly unbearable. You had moved to the other side of the bed and sat cross-legged at his side. His breathing was labored and loud, the coughs frequent and painful. The more he rested, the less lucid he became during moments of wakefulness. His skin burned hotter as the fever climbed, your attempts to lower it all for naught. 

Maggie and company were set to leave at first light but it wasn’t soon enough. Pleas fell from your lips each time Hershel came to check on each of you. He urged you to try and rest, even offering to bring Carol, Lori, or Beth to sit with the archer while you got some sleep. Your refusal was instantaneous. Eventually, he brought Beth with him and reasoned she could stay to watch over Daryl while you rested beside him, promising to wake you with any changes, good or bad. 

You were exhausted, that you couldn’t deny. The baby rolled and kicked, honing in on your anxiousness, Hershel said. It was with a yawn that you reluctantly agreed. The Tylenol had finally been located, and you insisted on helping get Daryl to take it before lying down. He was resistant for only a moment before complying, simply because you started to cry. Hormones and exhaustion were not a great combination. 

“You’ll wake me for anything?” You were propped on your elbows, preparing to curl up next to the furnace that was your boyfriend? Partner? Significant other? Whatever. You’d figure that part when he was better. 

“Anything at all. I promise.” Beth smiled reassuringly and patted your ankle. 

You had been made aware that anything not in use had been packed and was ready in case there was a need to flee. That would leave ample time for Daryl to be moved safely. The team of Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog would go in search of what was needed, likely to be gone the entire day to venture further out. The local homes and businesses had already been looted. In essence, there was nothing more to be done except keep the archer comfortable and more importantly, alive. 

“Okay.” You conceded, rolling onto your side to face Daryl as he coughed, a spasm of pain on his face before he settled again. “I’m right here.” You wrapped your fingers around his and held on loosely, closing your eyes to sink quickly into sleep. 

You heard the coughs before registering that your name was being called—no. It was being shouted. You shot straight up, hands immediately fumbling for Daryl. He was upright as well, leaning over his lap and arms braced against his chest to hold the blanket in place, cognizant enough during even such a paroxysm of hacking to hide his marred chest. With both the candle, nearly spent after what most of been a few hours rest for you, and the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside, you could see the redness on his skin, veins and tendons bulging from the force. 

“It’s okay. Daryl, it’s—where’s Hershel?” Your eyes remained on him, hand rubbing circles over his upper back. “Beth?” You looked at her then, found her staring at Daryl with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Fear? Hopelessness? The girl flinched at the sound of her name, only then seeming to hear your question. 

“He went to check if we have any tea bags.” She had lost so many, so much already. So young, still a child in that world. She was frozen, her eyes beginning to shine with moisture. 

Daryl’s fit was calming, each wet, wheezing gasp making the vice around your heart clench tighter. “Beth. Beth, look at me.” You were scared. No, you were terrified of losing Daryl. When the girl swallowed hard and finally turned her head to face you, you smiled with as much reassurance as you could scrape up around the dread stealing your own breath. Whatever you had, you would offer to Daryl. And to her. “He’ll be okay. Your dad’s gonna make sure of it.” You almost failed to hide the quiver in your voice. “Can you go see if we have any more clean scraps of cloth? I’d rather not have him spitting what he coughs up onto the floor.”

Beth nodded and spared one more lingering glance at Daryl, then she left the room. 

“Nice.” Daryl said with a desperate inhale. “Almost—believed ya myself.” He was still sitting up with his shoulders slumped, nearly folded onto his lap. You were still tenderly rubbing circles over his back. 

“You will be okay.” You whispered, laying your forehead against his shoulder blade, smiling when he didn’t react to your skin pressing against a particularly deep scar. Each breath vibrated where you rested. “Here.” You sniffed and pulled away one of the pillows. “Lay on your stomach. It opens up your lungs.”

The hunter looked over his shoulder tiredly as if considering whether or not it was worth the effort. There was a small jerk of his chin that you perceived as a nod, and then he was turning languidly to stretch out on his stomach. He coughed and buried his face in the pillow. You hadn’t noticed he was shivering before then. The blanket was twisted around his legs, making it more difficult to pull it up to the middle of his back. 

“S’miserable.” The words were muffled but decipherable. 

“I know.” You were getting to your feet, pressing your hands into the small of your back to soothe the ache there. The baby moved in what felt like a roll. “Thumper’s doing gymnastics.” Daryl turned his head toward the chair on his side of the bed just as you sat down and dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water, his arm immediately outstretched so that the back of his hand rested on top of your bump. “Let’s see if we can help the Tylenol with that fever.”

When the cool fabric touched the back of his neck, Daryl flinched. With his body fighting to regulate his temperature, it must have been quite the shock. You left it there for a moment before moving to dab the side of his face. Swiping the cloth over his back, you realized he once again was allowing you to see his scars, this time without the tension of rigid muscles that accompanied his shame and self-loathing. Maybe he just felt too horrible to care. 

By the time Hershel lightly tapped on the door, Daryl was sleeping. The coughs were still present but with longer reprieves, the hunter so exhausted that the fits barely roused him. 

“We found some tea. I regret not mentioning to Maggie that honey could be beneficial.” One plastic cup in one hand was steaming, a torn piece of flannel wrapped around it to ensure he didn’t burn himself. The other hand held a refilled bottle of water, likely from boiling some of the snow. 

Your mind drifted to how different this winter was so different from the ones before the turn. Georgia wasn’t usually a state to receive that amount of snow and such low temperatures. Maybe the lack of human activity had altered the weather patterns. Less cars, less pollution, less deforestation. You weren’t an expert but there had to be something different. If he was real, maybe god just saw fit to throw a few more curveballs at your little group. As if the threat of being eaten alive by the dead wasn’t enough. 

Shaking your head clear, you brushed your fingertips across Daryl’s forehead. “They left?” Hershel nodded. The sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet. 

“Rick seemed to think this was urgent enough to send them out before dawn. I can’t say I’m thrilled to see my daughter driving away into the night but I am inclined to agree with his judgment.”

Daryl could die. It was urgent but for more than any practical reason Rick could suggest. It was so much deeper than that. “He’s asleep. Should I wake him up to drink it?” You placed the fabric back in the water.

“As much as I’d like him to rest, he also needs to avoid dehydration.” He raised the cup slightly. “Peppermint tea is caffeine free but we had nothing to sweeten it. We can only hope he’s thirsty enough to not care. If he’d prefer, I also brought some water.”

Sighing, you nodded and leaned forward to be in Daryl’s line of sight once he awakened. “Daryl. Wake up.” You pulled the blanket up to cover his back. Hershel had seen the scars more than once, you knew that, but you were almost certain Daryl would have appreciated the effort. 

With a groan of protest, he opened his eyes to slits. “What?”

“Hershel brought you some tea.”

“Ain’t thirsty.” He closed his eyes. 

“Bullshit.” You challenged flatly. “Come on, sit up.”

His eyes opened a little wider then, sheer stubbornness driving him to glare at you. “M’comfortable.”

“Tough titty.” 

His expression smoothed out, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Nah, s’real soft.” The hand that laid on your stomach drifted up, the back of his knuckles pressing lightly across the swell of your left breast. 

Hershel cleared his throat. Daryl’s hand moved away at a speed you didn’t think he was capable of in his current state. You snorted when the fevered flush coloring his cheeks deepened with embarrassment. 

Reaching a hand toward the veterinarian, you waited for him to cross the room and pass off the cups.

“Try to drink as much as you can, son.” 

Daryl hummed, likely feeling too awkward to trust his voice. You smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Hershel.”

“No thanks necessary. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check in, but call down if you need anything sooner.”

“Okay.” The door clicked shut while you sat the cup of water down by the bowl and cloth. 

“Why didn’cha—tell me the old man—was in here?” Daryl croaked, making a face so close to a pout that you found it adorable. 

You chuckled. “I didn’t think you were gonna feel me up from your sick bed, sir.” He grumbled something incomprehensible but you honestly weren’t paying attention. If he wasn’t willing to sit up, you could have him raise his head just enough for you to help. “If you won’t sit up for me, could you at least lift your head and let me help you drink?”

“Y’ain’t gonna—stop houndin’—me ‘til I do, are ya?” He turned his face into the pillow and coughed, staying there until he was sure it was over. 

“Nope. You might as well just do what I ask.” You were smiling sweetly and batting your eyes when he finally moved his face back to you. 

“All women nag—this much—or s’mine just special?” Along with the relentless wiggles of your unborn baby, butterflies stirred and fluttered. Even if it was difficult to look past the fact that he struggled to draw in enough air when speaking, you felt your skin—as well as your heart—warm. 

His. 

“You’re just lucky.” You nearly sing-songed, choosing not to question his verbiage. You knew you were his. He’d been rather clear about that, even if he hadn’t exactly used words to convey it. That was enough for you. Hearing it was just a bonus. 

Daryl dragged his limbs and began to push up onto his forearms, but he abandoned the movement before his chest even lifted from the mattress. When he sighed, it was likely from resignation. He lifted and angled his head for you to adequately position the cup and pour a small amount of tea into his mouth. 

“Needs sugar.” He commented a moment or two after swallowing. Shaking your head, you offered it again.

It took a substantial amount of time to finish the tea and a few sips of water. The sun’s appearance found you sitting on the edge of the mattress, running your fingers through Daryl’s hair. He had fallen asleep before finishing the tea, waking only just enough to cooperate with your efforts. Hershel had been in once, declaring that while the archer hadn’t improved, he hadn’t worsened either. 

When he began to cough, you moved your hand from his hair to his back, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to provide any measure of comfort. Once he had settled, you used one of the flannel pieces Beth had retrieved to clean his mouth and the pillow. Hershel seemed pleased that the cough was productive. It was a disgusting reassurance but you’d take anything.

Daryl groaned and shivered, the fever relatively untouched by the Tylenol. The veterinarian had cautioned you that without the aid of antibiotics and soon, it was likely Daryl’s condition would deteriorate. Your hand stilled on this spine, the rattling of his lungs vibrating beneath your palm. Nearly overcome with an intense notion of foreboding, you turned your face toward the window, almost as if to summon back the team by sheer force of will alone. 

“Please hurry.”

[louellaby]

FORGET-ME-NOT

REPLACED!MC AU — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

W A R N I N G

May contain bad grammar, limited vocabulary, and OOC characters. Please mind that English is not my first language, and it takes a lot of courage for me to post due to my anxiety and paranoia.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

taglist: @books-and-catears

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II | CHAPTER III | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER IV | CHAPTER V | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER VI | CHAPTER VII | CHAPTER VIII | CHAPTER IX | CHAPTER X | LOUE'S LETTER | EPILOGUE

C H A P T E R I I I

「 Your Attention, Please! 」

"I'm really sorry about earlier, MC... I was just confused and scared. Being teleported somewhere unknown is extremely terrifying. Just being teleported in general is.... well, you know, since, magic was thought to be... a fantasy..?"

You understood her. You really did. It was the same for you when you first arrived three years ago. You recalled the moment your surroundings suddenly changed from your bedroom in the Human Realm to the student council room in the Devildom. The only difference now is that she had you, someone who knew her situation better than the others; unlike you, who had no one on your first arrival.

Opening the front door of the house, you let her in first, which made her light up. You thought she was supposed to be used to that kind of gesture, but she lit up with glee when you just did a simple thing, such as opening the door for her. Maybe she really wasn't who you thought she was. Maybe she was more than the first impression took from her. Yes, MC, just think like that. You'll warm up to her eventually, and the feeling would be mutual.

"Welcome to the House of Lamentation!" You exclaimed with excitement as you threw your hands in the air. "This will be your home for your entire year, and as you already know, the seven brothers from earlier also live here with us. So I hope you don't mind noises and a lot of... disagreements here and there."

"Oh, I'm sure I can handle it. I've dealt with troublesome nobles before, so this would be nothing in comparison." ...is what she said to you hours before the brothers returned home.

They had yet to even step through the front door of the house, but Soley was already next to you, gripping your arm as tightly as you let her, while you both stood on the staircase at the entrance. Her eyes were slightly widened in shock and fear of the unexpected.

"N-Nevermind what I said earlier, I don't think I can handle this..." Soley whispered to you before the brothers arrived. "Who in their right mind would be able to tolerate a bunch of insa— I mean... d-demons.. regular ones..."

You stifled a laugh, slightly pressing your free hand on your mouth, and whispered back, "Don't worry, you'll be fine! I'm here for you!" You then turned your attention to the seven brothers who just entered the house and were both looking at you with mixed emotions. The look in their eyes tell you they're curious and jealous with how close the two of you were. "Welcome home, everyone! Soley and I have already prepared dinner, so meet us in the dining room after you get changed out of your uniforms, okay?"

The brothers responded in chorus. You were surprised they agreed at the same time, without hesitation or an argument after it. Another weird thing they did as they each passed you was pat your head. Yes, all of them. They patted your head one-by-one while heading up the stairs.

"Do they... always do that?" Soley asked as she was just as confused as you were. Pushing that aside, you took her back up the stairs, and you both made your way towards the dining room. When the brothers saw the table decorated with flowers in vases, they looked to you for answers.

"Soley and I thought it would be a wonderful idea to decorate the table for dinner, so we both went ahead and did it! Isn't it beautiful?"

Your excitement on the matter of change pushed the brothers' confusion aside, leaving their faces with warm and gentle expressions that caught Soley's darkened eyes. Asmodeus ran towards you and wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you in a tight squeeze.

"Everything you do is absolutely beautiful, MC! And I mean E-VERY-THING~! You're just so adorable, I want to gobble you up!"

"Asmodeus, that's enough," Lucifer ordered, walking into the dining room with a heavy exhale. The look on his face, the weight of his step, and the sound of his voice. You felt it, didn't you? Lucifer's state was slowly deteriorating. But why? How? He looked much brighter yesterday.

"You're not leaving MC enough space to breathe."

"You're just jealous, Lucy~" Asmo retorted, slowly releasing you from his grasp. Lucifer sighed again, this time deeper than the last. Before he could respond, Soley clapped her hands once in order to get everyone's attention, "Now, now, everyone, the food is getting cold, so why don't we start dinner?"

Everyone looked at her. The smile on her face twitched from the attention she asked for. The tone of wanted familiarity she had in her voice was unsettling, even for you. When she turned to you for support, you nodded your head at her and gestured towards the table. "Let's eat, everyone!"

During dinner, you were expecting the same atmosphere as you were used to: loud voices, chatter, chatter, chatter, and arguments thrown in every direction from every direction.

But this particular feast was silent.

All everyone could hear were utensils hitting the plates, Belphegor's light snores as he tried to keep himself awake and failing at every attempt, and Beelzebub's loud and enthusiastic chewing. It was uncomfortable— not Beelzebub's chewing, nor Belphegor's snoring— but the atmosphere was especially excruciating. It was worse than standing in front of a large crowd and being forced to give a speech without prior preparation.

You kept taking quick glances at the new member and kept seeing the same expression. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed as she stared at the food she kept poking with her fork. It was unclear whether she was upset, uncomfortable, or afraid. You were sure it was one or another.

Her slight trembling became obvious to everyone, but only one person at the table knew why that was. You looked to Lucifer, who finished his dinner early and left the room after thanking you, and only you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Do you think the brothers hate me?" Soley mumbled to herself, but it was clear enough for you to understand. You were both in her room after dinner, just chatting the night away. It was Friday, so that meant no school tomorrow. You could stay up late if you wanted to, and you decided to keep Soley company just as she had asked. She seemed down during dinner, keeping herself as quiet as possible. She even tried to breathe silently. You felt sorry for her.

"I don't want to lie to you, so I'm just gonna say that I'm not... sure about that." Your answer didn't help her light shaking. In fact, it worsened it, but you really weren't certain whether or not the brothers disliked her.

Three knocks on the door came, followed by the familiar voice of the eldest brother, startling both you and the girl beside you. "MC, I know you're in there."

Lucifer called out to you, extremely sure that you were indeed in Soley's bedroom. How did he know? Well, he knows you that well. He knew you'd want to help the new student out and keep them company in an unfamiliar place. That's the kind of person you were. The one he fell in love with.

You looked to the girl next to you who was just as curious as you. She silently sighed and nodded to you, allowing you to open the door and meet with the demon. "What is it, Luci?"

Soley's eye twitched.

"I need your assistance at the moment," he responded. His arms were crossed as he stared into your eyes, occasionally glancing at the one behind you. You noticed him narrow his eyes whenever he eyed Soley. Maybe he actually doesn't like her..

As if on cue, your body moved, blocking Lucifer's sight of the girl. You cocked your head towards his direction and asked, "What for?"

He seemed surprised by your action but dared not challenge it. He just wanted to get you out of there as quickly as possible. "Just come with me, and I'll explain it when we get there."

"Okay, I'll... go..." You hesitantly answered, eyes rolling to the side as if Soley was there right next to you, and you wanted to see her reaction. You then turned around to face her and showed an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Soley. I have to leave, but I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning. I'll show you around the Devildom then, and we can buy you other stuff you need!"

The girl looked dejected, but she couldn't argue with Lucifer standing there menacingly. She saw what you couldn't see, and it was the demon glaring daggers at her, eyes slightly emphasising their red hue. She knew she had no choice but to let you go that night. So, with another silent sigh, she nodded. "Oh.. okay.. See you tomorrow, MC. Sweet dreams..!"

"You too!"

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Lucifer led you to his room and locked the door the moment you were far enough inside. He then pulled you towards him and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. He buried his face on your shoulder and whispered so only the two of you could hear, "Now that the new students are here, you're finished with your duties and preparations to accommodate their stay." He lifted his head up and rested his forehead against yours. You saw his greed swirling in his dark eyes, with envy dancing along with it. "You haven't given me any attention the past week, so I need to be recompensed for that, now don't I?"

"So, stay here with me.. Just for tonight. Please."

「 CHAPTER II | LOUE'S LETTER 」

[nahalism]

Did you ever experience some kind of…almost debilitating anxiety? I’m talking of months or + gnawed and exhausted by fear and both mental and physical sensations that come with it. How did/do you move through it

luv

a long one in advance but lol yh bare times. ill answer ur question, but there's two sides to the route i took and i have 2 preface with everything i did and do is based off of what i feel is right for me at the time. it doesnt mean its right though, and im very aware of that, so ill share some parts, but ultimately each person has is their own experience. the first step to moving through something, is looking for answers so like.. deeper than whatever i have to say, the answer is not in my answer, its in the fact u want answers

anyway. throwback to 6 ish years ago, i was having a breakdown breakthru and i started viewing what i called anxiety, as hyper vigilance. i started to see i was using a way of perceiving reality, along with my ability for analysis, to create correlations between my present, based on my perception of the past, to determine/predict the future (both futile and fallible), not cause i wanted to know what was going to happen, but because i thought keeping account of all possible outcomes gave me control and control would keep me safe and stop me experiencing a version of life i didnt want to go back to (more specifically it stopped me feeling helpless & inconsequential). as i understood that, along with the traumas at the root of my hyper vigilance, and the anxiety (social and general cause they r v separate), i recognised that i wanted control because i wasn't confident i could take charge or respond to reality without immense preparation. on top of that, i was resisting the fact that i was anxious because i was calling the symptoms i was experiencing my anxiety, but the real anxiety was the way i thought, and i was actually addicted to thinking in that way, because even though i hated it, and what it did to my body/nervous system, it was protecting my ego by giving me a false sense of control.

so that was my first step. i began to take action from where i was, as i was. that meant listening to what made me anxious. for example, if a place or person made me anxious, i didnt interact or go. i validated myself and what i was feeling. & i dont mean that in an avoidant sense, ill say why in a second. but yeah i validated what i was feeling, and began to see that the more i gave myself permission to be who i was, and do what i wanted unapologetically, the less direct anxiety id experience. and that sounds like an easy decision to have made in hindsight but usually, the change a persons anxious to make is something that in the moment requires a huge leap of faith but seems inevitable in hindsight. anyway, that's when i really realised that i was anxious because i was living an inauthentic life based on premeditation rather than presence. i had/have concurrent ptsd, so there were a lot of emotions i hadn't felt in a long time without realising, like passion or genuine laughter, happiness, joy, peace. id literally forgotten anything but this autopilot need to protect myself, be there for the people that had been there for me and stay alive. in giving myself permission to be different from who i had been, i started to see the world free from what my past dictated it should be and everything started to open up as as a consequence. side note, id been studying metaphysics and philosophy since 6 form, and i can't underestimate how much the principles i learned there helped me transmute my situation. ive recommended all those books in here before, so u can find them, but yeah . it sounds pretty and idyllic and as essy as 'changing my mind' but it was fucking brutal. i transformed in every sense of the word i lost almost everything in the process. there were wins along the way but 90% of them were silver linings of my own deciding. however, nothing i lost needed to stay! and everything i chose to go through or was subjected to led me to understand me and opened options as to how i could cultivate a beautiful and real inner life that eventually began to bleed out into the 'real' world.

the dark side of that, which is how i reached most of those revelations and insights, is the experiential bit that i can't communicate. i literally put myself through hell, and i can type till my fingers fall of and still never convey the full picture of how what why when, but yh. when i said i listened to my anxiety, i meant that literally. as i said before, i didnt allow myself to be avoidant. so if there was a reason i didnt want to do something, i honoured it, but lets say the only obstacle to me doing something was my anxiety, id force myself to do it, to the point of masochism. literally, i was obsessed. day in day out i was reading on self improvement, i studied every religion, researched philosophers, listened to hour long lectures on youtube, i did everything i could do to understand myself, my mind, life, and how to reprogram what i was experiencing. at the same time as this i used to myself in situations that would trigger panic attacks, or dissociative episodes and find ways to 'function' through it. one that worked very well was smoking weed, sometimes alone, sometimes in bad company. weed gave me severe panic attacks at the time, so when i was on my own, id smoke to induce panic attacks so i could meditate, breathe, draw, write, literally do whatever helped to bring myself through the panic attack. then when i felt capable with that, id smoke in bad company and practice with the pressure of being in front of people and there would be times id b having full blown panic attacks in front of people, sometimes with, but usually without them knowing and the whole time was just training myself to understand or pay attention to my mental patterns, training myself to calm myself down, to reach a zone where i could see through what was triggering me, or at the very least just firm it. and the more i did that, the more i understood why i was dissociating, or collapsing, or having chest pains, hyperventilating all that shit. the more i understood, the more i reeeaaally understood, and then i got to a point where even though the trigger is there lol, it still exists, but when it gets pulled i can hold the explosion. because i feel it happening, i see it happening, but it happens to something within me and not to me now? and so i kind of watch it and love and appreciate it for what learning to temper it taught me. its like a familiar old friend has its quirks that i wouldn't change for the world and yh idk im just rambling i need to go to bed. but basically i stopped being debilitated by anxiety by living in complete debilitation of it until it couldn't debilitate me any more. id be lying if i didnt say it drove me to very dark, lonely, appearance of being semi crazy states of being, but it was worth it and still is.

without the period of isolation the second half of what i described put me through, i couldnt have found realignment cause i wouldnt have seen how incorrect my projection of my past onto the future was, or how to correct it. & deep it, if all u know is death misery lack poverty shortage economic & social insecurity, then all u can see for the future is that. once u open ur eyes and see urself and the world for what is u can start playing. it wasnt easy, and im still not over being anxious. but its not debilitating, just an uneasy emotion. & the way i see it at this point, its just my inner system seeing something what my eyes dont & making me aware. when i listen im redirected, and can find alignment. when i dont it gets worse, and the only way out is to be numb. but i wanna live and i cant live numb. hope i answered, love <3

[the-legendaryphoenix]

I honestly don't usually talk about serious stuff, but I feel I need to say it. Ive been having thoughts bottle up for the better part of a few months, and I have to put them all somewhere.

This will be somewhat disorganized, but I need to get my thoughts out there. These are also the deranged rantings of a college student that is up at 3 am due to an inability to sleep, so feel free to take all this with a grain of salt.

I talk about capitalism, socialism, power structures, future worries, AI, emotional issues, climate change etc in this essay here. If you're sensitive to those kinda things, feel free to ignore this/block me/avert your eyes. I won't mind.

Yall are not beholden to magically change the world. It's nearly impossible to. Mass societal change almost always come from grassroots movements. There's ... no other way to change society otherwise.

Take generative AI and all. Before 2023, it was just this novelty and a toy that only a few people took seriously. Fast forward a bunch of companies tinkering with it and more eyes slowly getting drawn to the tech and boom suddenly we got trade unions like SAG AFTRA having to throw the video game voice acting industry to the wolves in order to get protections for actors and writers. We didn't get that outta thin air. It was a thing that was built up over time, before suddenly exploding like this.

I'm not entirely convinced AI shit is purely a product of capitalism. AI is just another step in humanity's forever quest to optimise the fuck out of everything regardless of whether or not there's a soul left at the end of it. This would happen under capitalism or socialism. The government - no matter how many social programs they have - is not your friend. Corporations are not your friend (we're in this kind of AI mess because corporations wanna make a quick buck remember?) If it weren't to make money off the backs of artists under capitalism, AI would also be used to generate endless propaganda and distractions by socialist states in order to stop the transition to communism & remain in power. (Think something akin to 1984) Both corporations and the government are wolves in sheep's clothing at absolute best.

Im not saying socialism couldn't work or that it's worse than capitalism. I just dont think socialism would magically solve all the worlds problems at the snap of a dictator's finger. Alotta that has to do with power structures that will be talked about shortly. Also, socialism cannot exist in a democracy. If the people choose their leaders, then the leaders have to constantly farm support from those that help them get elected. And it's not really socialism if some people are getting more than others. That's just our current system but you got authroitarianism instead of democracy. And don't point to systems like those in Scandanavia. Those are capitalist countries. The amount of government safety nets does not change the fact that unless the government has complete control over the entirety of a country's economics, its not socialism.

Due to how power structures work, I don't think violence and/or revolution against the elite will solve anything. Violence would only give them a reason to pull one of their many strings to get a government or private organization to crack down on the rest of us. No one rules alone. There's always got to be others that do the work that leaders cannot physically do themselves. This means that Authoritarian leaders must always give money/favor and or turn the other cheek to the ones that help them rule, and that represenatives must be open to favoring their supporters. If that means the government/leader/whoever ignoring obvious problems, then so be it. And for revolutions, the citizens cannot complete one on their own. The millitary has to allow it. And the citizens do not exactly get to choose the next leader. The Americans won the revolution only because the British had to deal with economics and morale. Had they had unlimited money in their vault and the troops were always raring to fight, the Americans would have lost.

Anarchism would circumvent a lot of the needless power structule bullshit. But as long as humanity has desires, there will always be some method of control over a group of people. Anarchism and communism are amazing ideas on paper. I just cant see them working.

Going back to my main point, its likely that none of us will be able to change the world. At the same time, the world can change you. A lot of my views on politics, friendship, and life in general have shifted since I started studying at college. Through this, Ive come to also realize that getting all worked up about stuff is an exercise in futility. Reblogging posts doesn't change the world. Doomscrolling through reddit and tumblr hashtags doesn't magically solve all problems that you see in the world; it just makes you lie awake at 1:45 AM feeling horrible and all. Wondering if living is still worth it gets you nowhere. It just makes you feel like complete ass when the anxiety passes and you wonder why you were considering such things after seeing an image with impossible geometry/the wrong amount of fingers/inconsistent everything.

You're not given the secrets to life, the universe, and everything on a silver platter. You have to find them yourself. Even if the world/circumstances are determined to make you miserable. You still have to find what's important to you. Ironically, I did get that from somewhere else, namely Pokemon Scarlet... but I also practice Catholic Nihlism, so its also an independent thought I came up with myself. [God gave me the right to choose what meaning I derive from life so I'll do it damn it!]

To clear up worries AI, there's always going to be human soul in some form of art. Think of indie productions that literally do their own thing; regardless of what the market dictates. Think of local artists that perform in your local theater, make paintings for your local museum/gallery, and writers that just sit down one day and write down what's on their mind. In that regard, AI's a tool. Genuinely.

Ive witnessed my friend use it to brainstorm/assist in some pretty difficult narration/dialogue for their fanfic. Ive used it myself to brainstorm some of the more complicated logic for some of my programming projects. You can use it for good things actually.

It's like a hammer. You can use it to help you build a house. You can skip the hammer and use screwdrivers and also get a good house. But you wouldn't want to build a house entirely out of hammers for multiple reasons. If AI doesn't prove to be a passing fad, market forces might start working against it. Think of how many people are fed up with disney and marvel's bland formulism that still has humans behind the wheel. If they add AI to rush things to the big screen at breakneck speed, people are prolly not gonna waste their time anymore. They're probably just gunna not give studios their money. AI is extremely controversal too. The fact that alotta people aren't just rolling over and taking it is a good thing. [The deal SAG AFTRA signed sucks I get it but its kinda easy for VA's to just... strike. They can deny the use of AIs trained on their voice. That's ... something.] (There's also the whole studios pushing for NFT thing and how that was a collosal failure. Its kinda an apples to pears comparison, but I'd thought it was still relavant.)

I know Ive been kinda hard about human nature too; but cmon. Most people are great once ya hear them out. I met my 2 best friends from all of us willing to listen & work through the others' problems. Even strangers can be great. I can randomly spark up small talk with people Ive never seen before at college, and it always comes out great. Most peeps aren't chronically online! they love talkin in person!

Humans have the power to work through a lotta stuff too. Hell, even the most frog-in-a-boiling-pot thing known as climate change is being worked on. Assuming no further reductions in emissions are made, we'll end up 3 degrees warming at the end of the century. That's ... dangerous, but it's an improvement from Around the 2010's when climate change WAS apocolyptic. We were on the 4 degrees timeline, and we will not go back there unless we ACTIVELY try to. Even in the worst case, humans and nature are very stubborn. Things absolutely have been worse in earth's history. Things just happening faster that's the problem.

Though if you do wanna make an impact, local politics and conservation are your best options. You may not be able to change stuff nationally or globally, but local stuff does make a difrerence. (Also the point above about local indie artists :P local really is the best huh?)

Starting local also has the advantage of being grassroots. People respond better to changes in their local community than those from the feds. It also affects how they vote, which in turn affects who leads nations and all.

Hence, my point about grassroots, huh. full circle.

You don't have to change the world as you don't owe it anything; but if you feel like it, go for it! Form a small group! Be a force for change!

I know its a bit contradictory to originally say stuff about posting doing nothing, and then for me to turn around and do all this; but I make my own meaning :P. (Ain't nihlism awesome.) I also just mostly needed to collect my thoughts to share with my friends.

I don't have anything else to say right now, so thank ya if you read this far. Means a lot you took the time to read all this.

yeah, have a wonderful day. :3

[wildmtthyme]

Chapter 4: Back Home

Warnings: Medical Setting, Injuries, Descriptions of Injuries due to Sexual Assault, Violence/Threats, Anxiety.

Chapter Notes: The mask is back on.

Synopsis: Simon was no stranger to torture and frankly, as far as torture went? This was pretty tame. What he hadn't ever experienced before, however, was coming out the other side with more than when he went in. - A random drabble that turned into a full blown story. The original title had been "Fairytale Stuff" but I changed it after some thought.

<- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 ->

Series Masterlist

The next night, he chanced using the radio. He dialed into the secure channel and hoped like hell that one of their listening posts would pick it up. It did. Five hours later, they were both sitting on a heli heading for the UK with a stop-over in Germany for refueling. They’d been given blankets to cover up with and clean water to drink, MRE ration bars to eat.

Simon had snatched one of the black balaclavas on instinct when he’d boarded and pulled it on, letting out a heavy breath when he did… feeling a ripple of relief flood his system. When his eyes met hers… she just nodded slightly at him and he wrapped his arm around her as they settled in the seat, tucking the blanket around her tighter… generally fussing over her. When they landed in the UK, the boys were waiting for him… but he was distracted.

Distracted because his focus was on her as she was rushed to the infirmary. He murmured to Price as he walked himself there to get checked out. They patched him up… treated some of the cuts on his feet… gave him fluids… and when they left him in his room to sleep… he almost immediately turned his heart monitor off, unhooked it from himself and wheeled his IV pole with him as he shuffled down the hall in search of her room. But Price was sitting out there.

What are you doing, son? Price had stood up, nearly catching him off guard. Simon just shook his head at him, his throat going tight. “Where is she?” Price narrowed his eyes at him. Who—he clinched his jaw and the next thing he knew, he felt Price’s hand tightening around his wrist… because he’d grabbed the man’s collar and jerked him towards him… Simon forced himself to let go and take a breath. Price let go too but the man was staring at him with a furrowed brow.

“Just tell me where she is.” He saw the way Price’s mouth tightened but he kicked his chin towards the room just down the hall. Two-oh-four. He gave a curt nod and continued his stiff, shuffled walk. He let himself in… and was met with her standing there… IV pole in hand… wincing as she took a step towards the door. He smirked and saw how she deflated some. “Back in bed.” He pointed behind her and she sighed. Was on my way to find you. You shouldn’t be up and walkin’ ya know. He rolled his eyes and gave her a gentle shove towards the bed.

“Says you.” He couldn’t help but lightly guide her back up into bed, his hand gently settling on her hip to steady her. “What’d the doc say.” He said low before he grunted, climbing up into the bed behind her. She was rearranging the sheet and thermal blanket while he settled onto his side with a heavy sigh. Anal tearing. Can you believe that shit? My ass is literally torn. I thought pain in the ass was an expression, didn’t think it was a real thing. He heard the tremor in her voice and he knew she was trying to make light of it… trying to joke, like she always did. He slipped his arm around her waist, feeling his iv-line tug… he ignored it. He pressed his face into her hair and took in a deep breath. She smelled different. But she still smelled like her under the scent of hospital soap. So, she’d gotten a shower, good. “They give you anything for the pain?” She nodded. Yeah. She said it quieter. He nodded in return. “Good.” There was more silence and he felt the prick of awareness at his back, knowing that someone was watching them. He lifted his head and glanced, seeing Price in the doorway… he thought about telling the man to get the fuck out but he didn’t. He just settled back down. Maybe he needed to see this… who the hell knew. What’s gonna happen to us, Si? He sighed heavily. “Dunno, love.” And he didn’t. “Just sleep for now.” I’ll sleep when you do. He smirked. “That’s not how guard duty works.” How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a fuckin’ soldier. He smirked again. “At least once more, rook.” He felt her hand cover his and lace their fingers, he curled his hand tight, holding her firm. You’ll be here when I wake up. She didn’t ask it… she stated it. He nodded. “I’ll be here.”

[stonyponyofficial]

hi!!!! :3 here are "some songs" ive been "listening to" that "i" think "you" should too!

spotify || youtube

notes on each below ^w^

Big Dipper - Death Grips: this song has such a good bounce to it, it makes me move no matter what, i cant help it. especially the chorus cuz ill start singing along and, well, then theres no stopping me. ill wiggle in my seat or like put some bounce in my step. which is all fun when im listening to music at home, but at work, where i mostly listen to music, i cant i have to skip the song. plus i love u songs that end with a good few minutes of noise just because, i never skip u i swear 🥺

classic j dies and goes to hell - glass beach: im fiiiinally getting around to glass beach and why didn't ANYONE say it was good? don't think ive heard the opinion that the first glass beach album is good yet. i wanted to listen to more bc of the hazel "Twinkle Park" version of the self titled song which is also very good but i put this one on this list bc it builds energy and emotion soooo well. it starts so somber but builds and builds till we're screaming about supporting each other and making a home for yourself despite despite despite.

DOGTOOTH - Tyler, The Creator: he creates once more! i always forget i had a kinda big tyler thing in high school until he releases new music. out of all his recent releases post-Flower Boy, Call Me didnt connect with me as much, but this single from the Call Me If You Get Lost "estate sale" of stuff that didnt make the album surprisingly did! it feels a little flowerboy-ish in the production but has the call me vibes of like "i can afford all these cars, buy my neighbors house, and ill still take my private plane to Switzerland for the day just cuz i was craving some nice chocolate" very braggadocio, very tyler, very good :)

Dumbass!! - Machine Girl: this song both sounds like and has similar effects as brainworms. it fuckin. got in there and made me quantifiably more insane than i was before. said brainworms make me wanna scream the lyrics and scuffle my feet and just like run into traffic and dance around the cars bc this song makes me believe i could and id be fine. i hope to fucking god they play this at the mg/100 gecs show. this song is also one of the few times ive looked up the lyrics for a machine girl song, usually content to just let the beats jar my head, and as soon as i did i couldnt get them out :) like some sort of... thought... eating... something or other idk theres probably a word for it (<-the worms are finally getting to her)

Fantastic Cat - Takako Minekawa: this song is sooooo cute, there is so much synth and whimsy to be had! unfortunately i don't know much about the artist bc this was one of the first songs i found after using Radiooooo (which u should be basically required to use if u like music and finding new music) set to Japan in the 90s, but she's part of the 'shibuya-kei' genre/subculture that was popular during that time, which sounds like an interesting topic to dive into :3 the whimsy contained in this song is almost too much tho. the melody is so sweet, that wind instrument is so silly, and the moog breakdown in the middle too is. well, its all quite fantastic.

HI 5 - Frost Children: i took too long making this post that this entry went from originally a cheeky indirect plug for their upcoming album bc i just really liked this single to just,, oh the album came out... but either way i wanted to talk about the song bc 2 me its just more proof of how exciting of a voice in hyperpop the frost children are. the bass on it is as crazy and slick as the one on the cover. this whole song just explodes with eccentricity i think ull really like it :) also check out the epic music video! its ai generated for those who'd like to know beforehand, but they use it to like. rotoscope real footage its preddy neat!

Introduce me to your family - Otoboke Beaver: i made a little post recently about Otoboke Beaver's influence on six impala's WFLYTD, and after revisiting their album, Itekoma Hits, after making that post i got this one stuck in my head for a while. the hook hooks (the main reason i had it in my head for so long), the bass is groovy, the guitars are sharp, the rage is channeled, its all here! they keep all the energy going and growing the whole time until you cant help but scream along.

こんがらがった! (Kongaragatta!/Tangled up!)- Necry Talkie: started reading the bocchi manga recently (im just past where the show ends as of now :3) and they have art at the beginning of each chapter with the kessoku band members that references visuals from like irl japanese bands and music videos which i thought was really cool! of course i had to find a collection of all the referenced songs, and what do ya know... this cute little number was in there! (if ur wondering it's the art for chapter 18 that references this song's music video :3) its such a dinky beat at first (said so so lovingly) but it evolves into a precise, energetic little jam.

One Million Dollars - 100 gecs: this fucking sonnng.. not everyones fav off 10k i know but it is for me :3 it just rattles me in such a specific way. it originated and is the only way to sate the need in my brain to hear what it was like for nic cage in that "not the bees!!!!" scene. i love it sm, but im absolutely biased from my hearing this at a gec show and falling for it right then and there. the live version and the album version are a bit different and i think the changes they made for the album make it a fuller song i just. loved the feeling of hearing this live so much. i would just search up the epic live version at terminal 5 where Laura fucking SHREDS on the guitar at the end over and over while i was waiting for the album. again, makes me very excitied to see them and machine girl soon :3

o (__*) - Hakushi Hasegawa: i dont know much about this artist but goddamn the few songs i have heard from them have made such an impression. u know a song is good when its not even dnb but uses the "yeah.. woo!" sample to keep everything going. and yeah with how crazy fucking banana bonkers jazzy and technical the drums and piano get at times it needs that tiny bit of stability at least. this song feels like the epitome of controlled chaos in the absolute best way possible.

PARTY GIRL - Angel Electronics: after rook's latest solo album came out i decided to go back and visit this collab project of hers with ash nerve i had missed at first and.... weeeeeeh ;w; this song makes me wanna cry every time. rook can obviously write some bangers but i love her more tender songs too. so many parts come together to make it just the sweetest thing. the part that stuck with me the most was the chorus, like it's sooo cute id just sing it to myself on loop bc it leads into itself so well. i wanna just keep talking about how fucking cute this song is but like George Costanza voice the love story between the party girl and the weird shy girl got to me okay?

Prime - Marnie Stern: kinda the reason im making this list hehe :3 this song was on char 'igottawin' mp3's most recent WILT (what im listening to) poast (hi char :3) and it was What Im was Listening To... too... (both of us bc of this epic animation) so here it is on MY knockoff WILT post too mwahaha hahaha! haha but seriously guys this song is quite good. it does so much with all the variations on just that one verse and i get sucked into the lyrics and the guitars. and by the fourth time im chanting this same unending verse the song is surprisingly over and i just wanna listen to it again. this one deserves a 10 hr extended version frfr

Wait and Bleed - Slipknot & 青春コンプレックス(Seishun Complex) - Kessoku Band: whats this? a double entry? ahaha yes! 😈 i would've put these songs here separately bc ive been getting into both slipknot (thank u char :3) and the actual kessoku band album, both of which are quite good on their own. but i only combine their entries here bc of this epic mashup of these two songs by the aforementioned rook blackdresses which makes me unable to sing either without thinking of the other song. like the first three chords of the bocchi theme start playing and my brain wants to scream the GOODBYEEEEEE from Wait and Bleed. the slipknot chorus melds with the kessoku band guitars soooo well. to me they are pieces from different puzzles entirely but they still fit together <3

wants mom to know she looks cool and doesn't plan on changing - leroy: i finally listened to the dariacore and accompanying berdlycore serieseses and ive loved diving into this little subculture of silly hyperpop meme mashups that fuck immensely. takes the silly to earnest and very good pipeline to a new level. plus having been a fan of dltzk and jane's other stuff its the one thing i never really got into but there are. so many dariacore related things i need to listen to now. i feel like theres lore i have to catch up on but im excitied :3 this is one of my faves off dariacore 2: electaria corebaloo (not what its called)

This has been... Post! thanks for your time. if u read this far i love u so much please never forget that. 'til summer music-heads! *curtsies and shows myself off-stage*

[moedollita]

i do feel like i had bad luck today because i didnt see her this morning

i expected to see her this morning ... i saw her yesterday morning walking the same route , it surprised me and i ended up looking in an awkward direction as we passed by eachother ( it always seems like we're passing by eachother and never walking the same direction ? ) im wondering if it was because im too early ..... yesterday i was early and i saw her though , so maybe she was the late one . yesterday i had come to the conclusion that i was going to have a good day because i saw her , and i did !! this girl in my first period asked to use some lotion and when i gave her mine she said things like " so this is why you smell so good every day " and " now i get to smell like ___ for the day " it made me really happy ! maybe thats really nothing to other people but i dont really talk to anyone at school so after that interaction i considered the day to be good . but today i didnt see her and ... my water botrle spilled everywhere . not jusf everywhere but a little backstory ; i was running late so i didnt properly check the cap to my water bottle before i out it in my backpack ( 70oz , i walk 50k steps everyday so i drink a lot of water aswell ) and it ended up spilling in first period . it didnt just spill a little bit . my 70oz water bottle went from basically full to only reaching 8oz . it was so embarassing !!! im a very quiet person so everybodys attention was on me !!!!!!!! we had to get a custodian and the girl at my table is so nice she took me to gef the custodian and made lighthearted conversation i think i wouldve freaked out a lot more if she hadnt spoken to me . qfter 1st period i went to the bathroom to cut , but as i thought my blade was too dull , so much bad luck ...... i think ill talk abt my complex towards blades and especially stealing them in another post . anyways i have some eyebrow razors coming in and those are sposed to be one - swipe - to - fat - layer so im excited . well not so much excited moreso curious ?

after the cutting thing didn't work i decided that when i get home i was gonna take a shot of vodka , sake or whiskey . whatever my parents have laying around . ive actually never had alcohol or drugs or vape or anything before , id consider myself somewhat of a sheltered kid honestly . generally i think today j was very overstimulated , i guess it was just too ' different ' from what im used to . but get this !! i saw her both at lunch and in the halls after i was skipping ( an assembly ) !! in fact i saw her twice during the latter because we both turned around and went to opposite way , making us pass by eachother again . i was ' following ' her , not in like a stalker way but i was pacing around already and she was technically going the direction of my classroom so .. but yeah she turned around ? while i was walking to my last class i didnt even see her ?! im hoping i was too early or something , i think the days where i dont see her im just too early because i think ? she comes down the stairs . ive been worrying that she might be avoiding me ..? i came to the conclusion that she doesnt really think about me to the volume i think about her but i do notice that the other day she seemed to be looking at me before i even saw her so maybe shes on alert ? which is horrible for me because yesterday she looked even nicer than usual in her cute sweater and i only got to get a .1 second glance from my peripheral . she often at least gives me a glance when i look at her which makes it kinda hard to get a proper look , im starving .... ive been trying to find her instagram but im unsure if she even has one . when i got home i took a good look at the alcohol cabinet but i decided against drinking anything ( im actually annoyed by how quickly my emotions change because by 3rd period i started feeling better out of nowhere .... which is good but i wanted to take a shot of whiskey )

in total i ended up seeing her about 3 times , record timelapse of about 30 minutes !!!

i went outside and the stars are really beautiful today , too

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Rivalry Put To Rest

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Arranged marriages (non of that under age like child marriages though fuck that yuck, these are obviously of age adults i just really wanna make that clear jesus), praise kink, modern AU, just lovely soft sex with my favorite man :'^).

Word Count - 2.4k

Other Comments - Dude it’s been so long since ive actually written anything im so sorry. But i couldn't resist writing this. I know i promised xiao but he will come in time. This is a little bit of a slow burn, or at least the sex doesnt start right away lol i want this to be nice and soft. P.s. youre on birth control so dont worry about no condom lol.

You did not like this idea. Why your parents were still forcing you into this was beyond you seeing as how you were a fully grown ass adult. You just couldn’t stomach the disappointment you would be seen as in their eyes. You were the daughter to the CEO of one of the most well known Law Firms in Teyvat. Zhongli was the son of another CEO who controlled your Rival company. Yours's and his parents wanted to finally settle the bad blood between the firms by having the two of you get married. You knew damn well the benefits of doing this was, god forbid if your Fathers firm went underwater, you would still be secure with Zhongli as your husband.

It’s not that you didn’t like Zhongli, and he certainly was not ugly; you just couldn’t stand your freedom to choose who you really wanted to marry being ripped from you. It was non negotiable though, so you had to go through with it. Zhongli didn’t seem to mind at all, he thoroughly enjoyed his very brief moments he had with you before, and was frankly excited to get more of those moments. He just hoped you didn’t resent him or blame him for this.

You both of course had an extravagant wedding, why would you not when your family was one of the wealthiest in Teyvat. You were grateful to your parents for letting you invite a few of your friends, and it seemed Zhongli had done the same. There was almost like a crowd formed around you two at the after party, you talking to your friends, and him with his. Zhongli had offered you his arm to hold onto, but you politely declined, feeling that even just holding his arm was too intimate for you.

“Already trouble in paradise for the two lovebirds?” One of Zhongli’s friends had chuckled, a red head with a stupidly smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you shot a look at him. Your friend Ningguang frowned, turning to look at your now husband.

“Control your dog, Mr. Zhongli.” You let out a chuckle, when you heard Zhongli’s friend scoff.

After a while, it was customary for the newlyweds to go on their honeymoon; so after a couple of hours you had to bid farewell to your friends and family. You approached the jet the two of you would be taking, with Zhongli carrying the luggage not far behind. You went ahead and boarded, while your new husband spoke with the pilot and the crew, sighing to yourself.

“Come on (y/n) suck it up, this honeymoon will be over sooner than you know it.” You mumbled to yourself, settling into the high class jet.

“Did you say something (y/n)?” You jumped, not expecting to hear Zhongli’s voice. “Ah.. My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You sighed and shook your head, waiving your hand to dismiss the apology.

“You’re fine Zhongli, I’m just… Nervous is all.” He hummed in response, nodding as he settled himself into the jet.

“I understand (y/n), I really do apologize about this being thrusted into your lap. I know this isn’t the ideal circumstances for a young woman to go through.” You nodded, glad that he understood your hesitance to the situation. Zhongli really wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s really not your fault Zhongli, I understand you probably had no more say in it than I.” You gave him a reassuring smile, the first genuine smile to grace his line of sight. Without noticing he found himself smiling back, relieved that you didn’t see him with any contempt. A comfortable silence settled, as the jet took off towards your destination.

It wasn’t a long flight, and along the way you were able to make small talk, slowly learning more about Zhongli. After two short hours, you felt the jet jump slightly against the ground before steadying itself on the runway. After a few more moments, you both departed, Zhongli once again handling the luggage, leaving your side to retrieve it.

Before you knew it, you were at the house you would be staying at for your honeymoon. It sat on a beautiful beach side shore, with a large open patio looking out over the ocean. By the time you guys had arrived it was already around 10:00 o’clock at night, so the crescent moon was high in the sky as you both stepped out onto the patio. The moon and stars gleamed against the inky black water, with the rhythmic beating of the waves lulling you both into a comfortable silence. You stood next to your husband and finally for the first time that night, actually took in his face.

The light of the scenery exposed the beauty Zhongli held in his face, the pale light bouncing off his cheekbones and illuminating his golden irises as he looked out over the sea. He must’ve felt you staring because moments later those golden eyes were locked on yours.

“Do you like the scenery (y/n)?” You gave a quick nod before ducking away from his gaze, a red flush rising to your face. You heard him chuckle for a moment before shifting.

“I know what is customary to happen on our honeymoon, and I do not want you to feel pressured to fulfill that part of our relationship.” You flushed even more as you suddenly found the pattern of the wood to be very interesting. You had completely forgot that sex was usually something people did on honeymoons. It seemed normal, because generally the people who get married have had a relationship before this so nothing felt awkward about the topic. Obviously that wasn't the case in this situation, but there was something in you that kind of wanted to. Something in you that felt comfortable enough with him to do it, you already trusted him which shocked you. What if he wasn’t though? What if he was uncomfortable with the thought of having sex with you right now which is why he brought it up so suddenly?

“Thank you Zhongli, you’re too kind. You’ve truly been so understanding through this entire thing.” You looked back up to him finally, and found a gentle smile on his face. He nodded and hummed before turning back to the house.

“We should probably get to bed, it’s already fairly late.” You nodded, pulling out your phone to check the time. You both walked about into the house together. “There is another room down the hall from the master bedroom if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed. It’s smaller so I could always take it.” There he goes, being considerate and kind; handling your thoughts and feelings like glass that would break any second. You remained silent for a moment contemplating on what he had said, before gently shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to share the bed with you.” You smiled up at him, and he looked almost surprised with your willingness, but the shock didn’t last for long before he smiled back at you and nodded; offering you his arm to hold on to, which you shakily took. You both reached the bedroom, where he had placed all of your guy's luggage before letting you go to retrieve your sleeping clothes as he did the same. You went into the bathroom, to give yourself and him some privacy before slowly re-entering. Zhongli was in a pair of brown silk pants with golden accents and a black short sleeve shirt. Your eyes met each other, and Zhongli smiled when he saw you.

“I know that these were unideal circumstances to get married, but I’m happy it is you who is my spouse. I can only hope you think the same of me, and that at some point you can genuinely feel connected to me.” You blushed as he said this, genuinely taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. You feel bad for dreading and almost resenting Zhongli when you were first notified about the engagement, once finding out just how compassionate and caring the man before you was. Slowly, the two of you made your way into the large king sized bed. There was a large gap between the two of you, large enough to comfortably fit another person. Your mind raced a mile a minute trying to decide whether or not you should scoot in a little closer to the man next to you.

And so you did, without taking another moment to think about it you shifted closer to Zhongli until your side gently pressed against his. You felt Zhongli stiffen beside you for a brief moment, and for a split second you regretted scooting in; that was until you felt him roll over onto his side and wrap a strong arm around your torso. You could really take in Zhongli’s scent like this and you noticed that he smelled like amber rum, chestnuts, and a hint of vanilla. It wrapped you in a warmth that lulled you into a comforting silence as the two of you laid together like this.

You rolled onto your side, letting Zhongli’s arm now rest against your waist. Your noses were almost touching as the two of you stared into each other's eyes. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips for the briefest of seconds, letting yourself do the same.

“Zhongli…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” You saw Zhongli’s eyes widen as his gorgeous eyes met yours, not expecting you to ask him that.

“I would love nothing more… Darling.” You flushed at the mild pet name, before softly placing your lips onto his. It felt as time skidded to a halt, as the two of you moved against each other with the grace of a slow dance. Soon enough it became heated, as you changed positions and straddled his hips. You could feel his boner pressing against you through his pants, and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“You really want to do this right? You don’t feel pressured my dear?” You smiled at Zhongli’s questions, nodding before he could get another one out. It felt good to be so concerned about, so doted over.

“Yes Zhongli, I really want to do this with you. I trust you.” This time it was Zhongli’s turn to flush, an elegant smile gracing his lips. Before long, the both of you were out of your sleeping clothes and back on top of one another. Your back was to the silken bed sheets, as Zhongli was on top of you lining his hard cock up with your eager pussy. Zhongli gave you one last look before slowly entering you inch by inch. To say he was huge would be an understatement, so he knew he had to take it slow with you so as to not hurt you in any way. Zhongli needed this to be a good experience with you, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or made this unenjoyable in any way at all.

The noises you were making and the way your hands were clawing at his back reassured him that he was doing everything right so far, always stopping after pushing in a few inches to give you time to adjust. Without thinking, Zhongli's mouth just started moving as words spilled out.

“You’re doing so good for me my angel, you’re taking me so well. You’re too good for me.” With the praise spilling out of Zhongli’s mouth, you couldn’t help but unleash a flurry of loud moans, as he bottomed out. He stood still for a couple moments, making sure you were nice and comfortable, until he felt you trying to move against him; trying to get him to move in and out of you.

“If you were ready for me to move, all you needed to do was ask my gem.” You let out a whine like moan, that evolved into a guttural groan when he finally started to thrust in and out of you. Your nails raked across his skin, surely leaving marks for you to admire after this was all said and done. He wasn’t skipping out on the marks either, as he sucked and bit at your skin, still throwing out praise every time his mouth left your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, as he sped up. He just couldn’t help himself, your wet quivering pussy just felt way too good wrapped around him; sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“I can’t believe it took us getting into an arranged marriage to finally meet, my god where have you been all my life.” Zhongli had begun to groan, obviously getting close to tipping over the edge, with the way his thrusts continued to get sloppier every so often. You moaned in response, too blissed out of your mind to form actual words. Zhongli’s head fell against your shoulder, his ebony black hair hanging off his shoulders.

With a few more strokes, Zhongli had both of you tumbling over the edge and cumming in unison. All that could be heard in your room was the quiet crashing of waves and the combined panting of the both of you. After a few moments of Zhongli getting his breath back he tumbled down next to you, sweaty shoulders touching. A couple seconds of silence passed before you spoke up in a raspy broken voice.

“It took us so long because I’m technically your rival.” You were giggling slightly, when Zhongli let out a loud chuckle.

“I guess you are right my dear, but now we are joined together. And I cannot wait to see what comes of our joining.”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vi)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: BUCKY BARNES IS BACK AND HAS A CONFIRMED PERSONALITY 

also omg everyone who’s been sending me ideas- ur the lomls. 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Your place or mine? ;)

He stares at the text.

The right answer is mine. See you at the lair.

“Y’all are dating now?” Clint peeks over his shoulder. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky says indignantly. “God forbid.”

“Okay, man,” he retracts, giving Bucky space to turn around and face him. “What do you want to call your mini dates then?”

“Missions,” Bucky corrects him.

“No one wants to go on a mission. You volunteered to go back there.” 

“It’s for the good of the tristate area.” 

“I bet.” The snort he lets out contradicts his words. “Whole world is depending on you, Barnes. Go save them from the treachery of your crush.”

“Enemy.”

“Girlfriend.”

“Mortal nemesis.” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Go further, I dare you.”

“What are you gonna do? Choke me? Punch me with your metal arm?” Clint cranes his neck. “Bring it, big boy. I’m not scared of some kinky shit.”

He hates living here. 

The door is left open for him. 

This time, even though the lair is still illuminated by the green light out in the front, there’s a minor change. Sunlight streams in through a skylight in the roof. 

There’s a ladder there, leaning against the rim. It gives him an entrance to the roof, which, judging by the lack of any other presence in the lab, is where he’s supposed to go.

As he gets closer he notices there’s a note on one of the rungs.

‘Evil’ with an arrow pointing upwards.

He rolls his eyes, discarding it on the floor before swiftly scaling the steps.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” he hears your voice call out even before his head pops up above the surface. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

He pauses, looking around. “Who’s with you?”

Because other than the gigantic machine pointed up towards the sky, there’s only you with a visor and sunglasses. The  best way he can describe its design was that it was shaped like a pine cone, had a large antenna pointed towards the sky, two handlebars near its base to manoeuvre it with a large button in between them. 

“Just imagine I have my henchmen with me,” you urge. “I’m on a budget, man, I can’t afford them yet. Maybe when my cloning machine finally works-”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s a James Bond reference,” you add when he doesn’t show any signs of answering. 

“Haven’t watched it yet.” Bucky shrugs. “We’re doing Star Trek right now.”

“You’re done with Star Wars?” you, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Nice. You’d find the spy shit ridiculous anyway, it’s way below your level.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He makes a mental note to add the Bond movies to the list. 

“Speaking of stars,” you begin, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to harness the power of the sun.”

“For what?” He doesn’t bother asking how, he already knows you’ve figured out something. 

“There’s a science exhibition and my team’s stupid solar car experiment isn’t working and I need it for them to win.” 

“So build a better one.” 

“No, ours is the best and if Jeff and his stupid baking soda volcano beat us then we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

“Your hands,” he emphasises. He has nothing to do with this.

“I said what I said, boy.” You glare at him. “This is our problem now.”

“How much power are you taking?” If it’s insignificant enough, it wouldn’t matter much. He thinks. 

“The whole thing.”

He laughs. He stops when you don’t.

“You’re taking all the energy of the sun to power your shitty science model.”

“Your face is a shitty science model,” you mimic him in a higher pitched voice. “I will do anything to win.”

He wonders which grade kid you stole that insult from was in. There’s no way they were anything older than 13. He could use it on Steve, maybe.

“Everyone on Earth will die.” He feels the need to remind you, even though there was no way it was actually going to take place. Eat shit, Clint. This superseded the tristate area.

“Not for eight minutes.” You look at your watch. “And, if Jeff dies then I win by default.”

“You’ll die too,” he points out. 

“I’ll die a winner.” You nod seriously as if that makes it better. 

He’s not that worried. Experience tells him that you’re not a mass murderer willingly. 

“You’ll die an idiot.” 

“Only if you don’t stop me.” Your lips curve into a smile. “And how will you when I do this?”

You yank the machine to point towards him and slam the button. His hand reflectively pulls in front of him to defend himself. Something hits him with enough force to send him skidding backwards slightly. 

He removes his hand carefully from in front of him, looking at you. 

Something feels off.

“You just-”

The knives strapped to his thighs suddenly feel heavier.

“Took your powers?” you finish his thought. “Yeah.”

He feels his body tip towards his left. He’s suddenly very aware of the weight of the arm. Had it been this heavy all this while? 

“You’ve barely changed,” you noted, “You’re just regular Bucky but like, 20% less beef.”

After all, he was a boxer when he was a teen. One of the best men the Howling Commandos had even before the serum.

His shoulder feels heavier though. And somehow he thinks he’s sensing things a little less. He can’t really hear the faint buzzing of the generator downstairs anymore.

“Yep, that’s real muscle.” He turns when you poke at his shoulder. He doesn’t know when you got there. “You’re like a modern day Schwarzenegger. Grade A beefcake.”

He can’t see the construction site near the horizon as clearly as he used to. 

Something about this situation makes him feel like he’s going to have a midlife crisis, even though he’s overshot the age by a huge number. No one has a midlife crisis at 106. 

“Now that we’ve established that this works,” you say, back near the machine again. When did you walk there? “Let’s show this bitch that I’m the brightest star allowed in this solar system.” 

He shakes his head to jolt himself awake, shoves aside his mental dysfunction and breaks out into a sprint when you pull the device down to aim it at the sky. 

He latches onto the side, using his left hand to pull himself up, straddling the machine.

“Excuse me,” you exclaim like it’s a minor inconvenience and he feels the machine sway wildly under him. “You’re weighing it down, get off my inator.”  

You’re shooting recklessly, trying to shake him off. It’s not dissimilar to the mechanical bull Natasha made him ride during a mission down south so she could win money off placing bets on him. They had lobster that night.

He reaches down to its side, hoping to feel maybe a panel he can rip off. He finds nothing.  

He hopes none of the rays are actually hitting anything. It’s a little harder to stay on than he’d imagined it would be, and he thinks that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. 

He changes his mind in a split second, swinging himself over so that he can climb the underside of the machine like a monkey bar. He feels like a fucking insect. How was Peter not mortally embarrassed? 

He factors in the fact that his hands are getting clammier and his grip is slipping faster than usual. Also, he can taste his lunch at the back of his throat.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky curses when his hand slips, leaving him to hold on only by his metal arm. 

“You okay?” you call out, not giving him a second to recover unless he really needed it.

He lets out a grunt, swinging his arm up and catching hold of the antenna, yanking it down and towards the machine itself. He pulls himself up so that he’s straddling the machine again. 

One more shot and-

“Very smart, Barnes,” you say dryly, letting go of the handles. 

He sends you a sly grin before sliding down the barrel, kicking the large button with his heel right before he jumps off. 

The beam shoots out, instantly meeting with metal. The device automatically gives a mechanical groan before powering down, turning off altogether. 

“I hate you,” you huff, before noting his paleness. “D’you want some water? An IV maybe?”

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, inhaling heavily to catch his breath.

He’s tired, more so than he would have been under any normal circumstance. He feels a little dizzy, a little disoriented. 

“Don’t worry, your magic powers will be back in a few minutes or so.” You examine the bent antenna, pressing the button and sighing when it stands there lifelessly. “Once Jeff wins, I’ll send the dry cleaning receipt to you. You can pay to get the tear stains out of the kids’ outfits.”

“Your tears or theirs?” He’s relieved about the powers returning, he thinks.

“Both, bitch.” Your eyebrow quirks at his retort. Clearly, he had more energy in him than people realised; his brain seemed to be working fine. He was stronger than you thought. Good for him. 

“You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” He lets out a final exhale before standing up a little straighter. 

“Thanks. It’d be better if you asked your billionaire tech genius to send us something, but okay.”

“It’s a middle school science exhibition. Make a potato battery or something.”

You tsk-tsk. “No points for creativity, Mr. Barnes.”

It creeps into his mind without warning. He wonders if he actually wanted the powers back. Wonders what his life could be if he maybe retired, settled down. For the brief time he feels like his pre-war self, he starts to think like his pre-war self.

“I’m not the one who’s about to lose to a baking soda volcano,” he finds time to respond, however. 

“Your face is a baking soda volcano.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I will not lose.”

“You’re running out of time. Chop chop.”

But the thought hits him. Who is Bucky without his super soldier serum? If he doesn’t have his powers then he can’t think of what use he is to the Avengers.

Who the hell is Bucky if he can’t provide a service to others? How else does he make up for being himself?

His, what he’s now deemed, afterlife crisis is starting to look more apparent.

He compartmentalises and stores it away in a box. He’ll bring it up with his therapist later. 

“I’m going to win and then you’ll be sorry you weren’t a part of it because you didn’t let me steal the sun.” 

“If you win, I’ll still be glad I didn’t let you.” He climbs back down the ladder, feeling the ache in his muscles reduce with every passing minute. 

True to your word, his powers do return a while later. 

And while he’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with Peter in the living room two days later, his phone beeps with a text. 

It’s a picture of a blue first place ribbon next to a toy car that looks like it’s powered by a potato battery. Beside it is an out of focus middle finger that is aimed at him. 

Congratulations, he texts back. Told you potato batteries always win.

Your face always wins, he receives in return. He can’t tell if you’re insulting or flirting with him. 

He just shuts his phone off and goes back to watching the show. 

Next part

[griffintail]

Hello! So I was new at your blog and I feel like ive discovered the 9th cloud of heaven 🤯 so I don't know if youre in the mood but i loved your technoblade child reader fics and i really wanted to ask if you could write a overprotective!tecnho x f!child reader? i feel like it sucks so im not pushing you to do it-

I probably took it a different way than what you were thinking but I hope you still enjoy!

Utmost Care

Pairing: Technoblade X F! Reader

Warnings: Overprotective nature, Light Angst, Mentions of Swords, Mentions of Scars

~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno didn’t hold a lot of things with value but when he finally did, they were protected with the utmost care. That goes the same for living beings. His daughter certainly was one of those beings.

All of (Y/N)’s life, Techno always kept his eye on her or made someone he trusted with his life was watching her, meaning only he or Phil watched her. If Phil couldn’t watch her at the time, Techno then took her with him, keeping her close the entire time. And, if (Y/N) could tell the truth, as she got older, it was tiring.

She was thirteen years old but she wasn’t allowed to go off on her own. She either had to go with Techno and Phil, the only time she could be alone was in her own room. It was extremely tiring when she couldn’t learn new things that could be considered dangerous. Techno wouldn’t teach her to fight or brew or enchant because he said she’d never need it.

She just wanted to do something without the need for approval. She just wanted to be her own person and live her life as she wanted.

So…that’s how she started sneaking out hours at a time. She was only allowed her own peace and quiet in her room? Alright, she used that to her advantage and locked her door when she knew Techno was busy either tending to things and wouldn’t check on her for hours. When she left, she went to the one place she knew mischief was encouraged.

“Uncle Tommy!” (Y/N) grinned as she walked in the door.

“Here comes trouble!” Tommy grinned.

Tommy indeed encouraged the things Techno considered bad. He helped teach the girl how to fight, taught her to brew, showed her a few things with enchanting, and most certainly let her go off on her own around L’Manberg or the SMP, though he did warn her to be more careful in the SMP lands.

(Y/N) felt free and felt like her own person finally without a weight of watchful eye on her.

It was one of those days once more. Tommy was teaching (Y/N) the ways of the sword.

“Come on, stop trying to hit me and hit me!” Tommy grinned cheekily, then yelping as (Y/N) swung as hard as she could with a smirk.

It was just another day for the pair, they just didn’t know it wasn’t another day for Techno. (Y/N) always left when Techno was on his own because he did get distracted when Phil was around or Phil tended to help him. So, if Phil was around, going out was a no-go. Phil usually showed up in the early mornings so she could tell if she could sneak out pretty early in the day.

But, today, Phil had been held up in L’Manberg and came late.

“Hey mate!” Phil called as he walked over to Techno’s.

“Phil, you’re pretty late,” Techno said.

“Yeah, had to help with some things in L’Manberg first.” Phil shrugged. “Farming all by yourself today?”

“(Y/N) said she wanted to read and she might come out later,” Techno told him as they went into the house, Techno resting his hoe by the door. “(Y/N)! The old man’s here.”

“Fuck off mate.” Phil laughed.

Techno smirked as he cleaned off his hands but frowned when he heard no movement in the rooms above.

“(Y/N)!” Techno called once more.

“She might be sleeping in, let her be.” Phil waved it off. “She’s alright.”

But the voices whispered worry, only fueling Techno’s.

“She doesn’t usually sleep in. I’m going to check on her.” Techno said before going up the ladder.

He went to (Y/N)’s room knocking, but there was once more silence. He didn’t like that.

“(Y/N).” He said trying the door handle, but found it locked. “What the-Hey. What’s with the locked door?”

“Techno?” Phil called up concerned by the conversation he was hearing.

She wasn’t saying anything though and the voices whispered panic and Techno reacted. He took a step back before kicking in the door. Phil jumped before quickly coming up the ladder as Techno went into the room.

“Techno!” Phil shouted as he followed after.

Techno’s breath came quicker out of his nose as Phil came in.

“(Y/N)’s not here. Someone took her.” Techno moved past Phil.

Phil looked at his son leaving the room before looking at the teenager’s room. The only mess was the door but (Y/N) indeed wasn’t here and his wings puffed before he rapidly following after Techno.

“You know, the last thing I thought Techno would do was not teach you how to use a sword,” Tommy said as he leaned back on the bench overlooking the river below his base.

(Y/N) sat next to him, both of their training swords laying down close by.

“I always ask him to teach me but he just tells me I don’t need to learn how to fight. I’ll be fine.” She huffed. “What am I going to do if a mob manages to get in? Can you imagine if a creeper managed to come into our house? It could just blow me and the house up because I couldn’t do anything, I might as well just stand still.”

“Ah, he’s always had a stick up his ass.” Tommy waved his hand. “And an ego. He probably thinks he can keep everything from hurting you.”

“But that’s the point uncle Tommy!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “If he taught me, it’s almost a guarantee I won’t get hurt. I could protect myself and go out and meet people. Do whatever I want.”

“He’ll figure it out eventually,” Tommy assured her.

“Alright!”

Both of them jumped as they looked around wildly, Tommy giving a scream, hearing the voice of said man. Then, a moment later, they realized it was their walkies and shared a look.

“Whoever has my kid can bring her back now and have a painless death.”

“Uh oh.” They both muttered.

(Y/N) scrambled to get her things as Tommy stood up in a panic.

“Bye!” (Y/N) shouted before sprinting towards home.

How the hell was she supposed to explain this? Oh no dad, I just decided to wander in the forest with no warm clothes?

“It’s going to be a shitty day.” She muttered as she slipped into the portal and sprinted down the pathway towards the home portal.

Deciding it was better before her father started searching homes, she took out her walkie.

“Dad!” She spoke. “What’s the problem?”

Techno froze in his path, looking at Phil before taking off his walkie. “(Y/N), where are you right now?”

“I just…went for a little walk. My legs were starting to cramp up.” She lied, wincing slightly.

“Your door was locked (Y/N). What happened?”

“I don’t know the door handle must have broke.” She tried as she felt relief seeing the home portal.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” Techno asked in frustration.

None of this was adding up. What the hell was going on?

“Nothing dad, everything is—” She stepped out of the portal and froze when she was met with two netherite decorated family members. “Fine…”

Phil’s eyes were wide as Techno stood there quiet for a moment.

…

“YOU WENT IN THE NETHER!?” Techno shouted throwing up his arms.

“Dad, look I can explain—” She tried.

“No! I-What were you thinking?!”

“I—”

Techno looked her over. “Is that a sword?! What—You don’t fight! What the hell were you doing?!”

“Look—”

“Mate—” Phil tried to even cut in.

“No! We’re going home.”

Techno went to grab her arm but she moved back.

“LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!” (Y/N) shouted as she shook.

Techno stood in shock as Phil took a step back, this was between father and daughter.

“I-I-Yes! I snuck out! And yes! I have a sword! But its-I just wanted to live for once! You don’t let me go out on my own! You don’t let me train or learn anything you do! I stay at home! And read and learn about farming and crafting basic ass shit! And that’s it! If I’m lucky I get to go out to the village with you keeping a close ass eye on me! And I’m tired of it!”

Techno was quiet as (Y/N) took deep breaths before he came towards her.

“You know that to keep you safe.”

“Oh, shove it, dad! What’s the point of being safe when I don’t know anything! I felt like I was going crazy and I-I can’t do that anymore daddy. I can’t.”

(Y/N) had tears in her eyes. She hated it; she was so tired of it. She was so tired.

Techno was stood in shock hesitating before coming over and hugging her tightly.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered to her. “I…I didn’t know it was hurting so much…”

It was a bit awkward of a hug with his armor on but (Y/N) hugged him back regardless.

Techno had wanted to just keep her safe. He had so many enemies and seen so many things in his life…He just didn’t want his little girl to see all the same things he had and he didn’t want her to carry the same scars. But all the while, it seemed he was hurting her in a different way.

“I’m sorry. We’ll figure it out, ok?”

“Please.” She nodded.

He’ll figure it out, he’ll still make sure she was safe, but he’d figure it out for his little girl to be happy…

====================================

General Taglist: @devilchicc @technoblades-sword

(WHY CAN"T I TAG YOU)

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[transtalk]

“Here’s some stuff I’ve learned in my ~12 years since I started transitioning”

*Posted with permission from a Redditor who chooses to remain anonymous.  I am over 10yrs into my transition and agree with most of these points.  Thought this was a great share to help our younger transmen.

I’m 26 and I started transitioning at 14. I recently passed my 10yrs on T recently and I figured I’d pass on some random knowledge I’ve accumulated in my experience.

Physical stuff:

-Be prepared to outgrow any clothes you buy in the first 5ish years on T. You might think you’re in the clear after a couple years, you’re not. That includes shoes.

-Looking at your father and brothers for an idea of what you might look like on T isn’t always accurate. My dad and brother don’t have much body hair, I’m a damn werewolf. On the other hand, they have full heads or hair. My hair has decided to migrate from my head to, well, everywhere else.

-Mature hairlines are a thing, doesn’t necessarily mean receding. My dad has the former, I have the latter.

-Not all hair follicles grow at the same time. Your beard after not shaving for 2 weeks is not the same as your beard after not shaving 2 months and then trimming it to that same length. Ive had a thick, full beard since I was 20. I had to shave for a neck surgery and for the first month I was back to my patchy teenage beard. Right now, wearing a mask is a great opportunity if you want to try growing it out without looking ridiculous.

-Still train all of your body if you’re trying to get a more masculine physique. You may worry about having a bigger butt or thighs but trust me, it’s still important. Also, it’s not all about shoulders, chest, and arms. The lats and traps are often overlooked.

-Penises sit lower than you think and are smaller than you think. Take that into account when packing. I haven’t been in the market for many years but I pray that there are more options now that aren’t 5+”.

-If you get a hysto, hold a pillow over your belly when you cough. Trust me.

-If you have surgery in general, you’re probably going to be thirsty when you wake up. Go slow when they finally let you have water. I’ve puked on a few nurses… sorry guys.

-If you have bottom surgery with urethral lengthening, you might have extra drops of pee that get stuck. The way your urethra is situated has a different angle so more pee gets trapped in there. Press up on the gooch to get it out. Some cis guys have to do it too, it’s called the taint tap.

-Athletic fit pants are great for big booty bros.

Social/emotional stuff:

-It can be hard to see it sometimes, but plenty of cis guys have the same features you’re dysphoric about. Baby face? I’ve got male coworkers older than me that look like teenagers. Wide hips? Some dudes are bottom heavy. Short? If you pay attention, there’s short guys everywhere. The average guy doesn’t look like Channing Tatum.

-There’s a thin line between dysphoria and dysmorphia. What you see in the mirror could be totally different from what people see when they look at you.

-It’s fine to pee in the stall. Standing or sitting. Nobody gives a fuck. Even after phallo I pretty much exclusively pee in stalls. Less splashback, privacy, and pee time is me time.

-There’s another step to transitioning you might not realize: becoming confident in yourself as a man. It’s easier said than done and it can be a pretty long process. You are a manly fuckin man (or a feminine man, but you’re still a Fuckin man) and you are no less of a man than any other. You will be much happier once you can say that to yourself and truly believe it.

-You don’t owe anything to the trans community. There’s no denying there can be negativity. If it’s taking a toll on your mental health or causing more dysphoria, it’s ok to step back. You’re not obligated to involve yourself just because others in the community have helped you. You owe yourself happiness. It took me way to long to learn that. I pop in online once or twice a year in places like this sub where it typically is a civil environment but I limit it to that.

-Along the same lines, it’s ok to be stealth. You are more than your gender and it’s ok if you don’t want others to define you by that. Again, you don’t owe anybody anything. You can support the trans community without disclosing. Vote in support of trans rights, call people out on their bigotry, donate to charities, etc. And unfortunate as it is, your voice is sometimes more heard as an ally than as a trans person.

-Even if you finished the required therapy to get hormones/surgery it’s good to stick with it if you can. I know it’s not possible financially or time wise for everyone, but if you can, you should. All of your struggles don’t magically disappear when you medically transition. It’s good to have a professional help you process everything. I honestly think most people in general can benefit a lot from therapy.

-You could still have some dysphoria even when you have fully transitioned (whatever you define that as for yourself). Many don’t but it’s not a guarantee. I’m sorry to break that to anyone who is just starting their transition but it’s important to realize. If you recognize it, you can learn to cope. I still feel some dysphoria occasionally about the things I cant change. Mainly that I can’t be the biological father to my children. I have to remember that it’s not genetics that makes a father, it’s love and care.

My experience obviously isn’t going to be the same as everyone else’s but I hope this can help someone a little bit.

[kiefbowl]

regarding alicent being hated by neckbeards (and not to sound like some Women Are Worse Actually apologist or something cause asoiaf fanboys are the worst lmao) things are not much better with the women in the fandom. i mostly move in female dominated spaces when it comes to asoiaf and it's been shocking seeing the way they've been talking about her. literally calling her every misogynistic slur under the sun 276485 times a day. and when the actress who played young alicent alluded to romantic undertones in rhaenyra and alicents relationship they went fucking feral and jumped on her saying that if actors wanted to fuck they should do it in their own time and leave the characters out of it.

it took me so much by surprise the intensity of the hatred both for the character and ship bc i can name countless villainous characters that have big fanbases?? not to mention problematic het ships ("problematic" ranging from starting as enemies to straight up shipping male abusers or groomers or pedos with female characters). they're basically treating alicent as the devil incarnate while adoring the man who took his 15 year old niece to a brothel...it's disgusting. i

was in the fandom for a while before i read fire and blood so i got into the book with preconceived notions expecting to love daemon/rhaenyra (cause he's a fan-favourite and fans are really presenting their relationship as some great love story) and hating alicent more than any asoiaf villain by the way they were talking about her. instead i was disgusted by how a male character like daemon could have stans and couldn't get what made alicent different from basically any asoiaf and got character? cause almost everyone in that universe look to save their own skin, gain power for themselves etc etc so i didn't view her as an anomaly just your run-of-the-mill antagonist??

generally liked the changes they made in her character in the show cause she was just too evil stepmothery for my taste in the book and it fell flat but the fandom was foaming at the mouth at the thought that they made her remotely sympathetic. and every time the actors/showrunners etc mentioned that alicent is a product of the patriarchy they'd be screaming about how she's the patriarchy herself and shit like that as if women who cape for the patriarchy aren't oppressed by it? it generally feels like i've time travelled s couple of decades back with the misogynistic takes ive had to read that are widely accepted in fandom . it's disturbing cause they basically switch "feminism" on and off based on whether they like s character or not and if they don't it's free estate apparently? they hate her so much that they can't even empathise with her being married off to an old man as a teenager and enduring marital rape cause apparently that would be excusing her later actions. but they'll happily joke around about daemon murdering his wife...

sorry for ranting lmao i just really wanted to discuss the show with another radfem haha

Omg girl, the takes brewing in the hotd tag on tumblr are ATROCIOUS, I'm right there with you. A week back I got an anon about Alicent where I said she hadn't become the villain yet, but had clearly turned antagonistic toward Rhaenyra. This past episode, she has clearly stepped up her villainy, and like - what about it? Her choices and feelings are completely understandable.

It truly makes me wonder what people watch stuff and read stuff for. Like what do you get out of it? If you don't find characters compelling, what's the point? If evil characters make you hate them like it's personal, perhaps you need a bit of a reality check? These people aren't real lol

I'm also absolutely bemused how angry people are getting that the showrunners are interpreting this book and creating scenes that aren't quite what the book described, because it's the point? The book is a ""history book"" intentionally playing on unreliable sources. Every scene is going to be more fleshed out and a little different, and they're going to create visual parallels within the show. These complainers would make terrible television shows

Alicent is a tragic character, and you don't have to root for her, but I don't understand not feeling sympathy for her.