#its extremely self indulgent lmao

[andr0nap]

YESSSS YESYYESSS DOGS!!! WOLVES!!!! finally some good werewolf wolfwood art... theres such a criminally low amount of it in this fandom, thank you for your goods and services

HAPPY TO SERVE ANON 🫡

heres a werewoowoo doodle just for u

[reds-skull]

Sharing a mask is something that can be so intimate actually

[aqours]

it's really not that bad dude 😭

we've entered a really fucking weird era of shipping discourse ngl

[pikachic]

Hi it's me again. TMA/POKÉMON AU??? YES HELLO PARDON ME I NEED TO THROW MYSELF AT THIS OCCULUS AU YOU'VE GOT GOING ON IF YOU DONT MIND

*BUSTS DOWN THE DOOR* I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

I’ve had this AU simmering away for a while and but haven’t posted that much about it, so thank you for the excuse to scream about my extremely self indulgent Pokémon x The Magnus Archives AU

*ahem*

Introducing:

POKÉMON OCULUS

(Here’s an illustration I did after getting your ask - Champion Jonathan and his ace Pokémon, Vigitera!)

This AU is set in the Ervenis Region, a relatively small island region off the coast of Galar. It closed its borders two years prior to the main storyline, shortly after its Champion went missing during a series of attacks in its major cities and his predecessor was found murdered. Since then, an acting Champion has been instated and the borders have been reopened, but the Champion still has not been found. Most Ervenisans believe he is dead.

However, the Ervenis Champion isn’t as dead as everyone thinks, and his disappearance is only the first in long chain of events that will shake Ervenis to its very core, orchestrated by a man who aims to rule over a ruined world governed by nothing but his own will and the fear of people and Pokémon alike, and who will stop at nothing to bring that goal into reality.

More lore under the cut!

(Some of the AU-specific names and terms might be placeholders in that I haven’t been able to come up with anything better lmao)

(Also some of the art might be a bit old)

General Lore Stuff

Jon is the Champion who went missing, and Gertrude is his murdered predecessor.

Martin is Ervenis’ Pokémon Professor

Martin being the Professor is literally perfect.

Be. Because.

All of the Pokemon Professors (except for the newest ones) are named after trees.

And Martin’s last name is BLACKWOOD. Which is an ACTUAL TREE.

(My first rough attempt at drawing Jmart in the Pokémon art style)

Also jmart are extremely married

They’re Ervenis’ favorite power couple

(Professor Blackwood for half of the main plot: *sighs.* …I miss my husband. I miss him a lot. I’ll be back.)

Their Pokémon ship name would be Londonfogshipping

Martin has a Galvantula (most likely a regional form), a Sinistea, a Frosslass, and a Togekiss

Jon, in addition to AU-specific Fakemon, has a Gardevoir and a Luxray

Jon also has a shiny Appletun on his team and Martin has a Flapple. Make of that what you will :D

Also yes there are Fakemon in this thing

I have never designed any Fakemon before except for one thirty-minute period of time from when I was ten but I’m not going to let that stop me

(Initial Fakemon sketches! Three guesses as to which characters get Sqwyrm and Manickregus and the first two don’t count)

(Also Ervenisan Yamask has another form, which evolves into Ervenisan Cofagrigus which is inspired by the Do Not Open coffin)

(I have a whole list of Fakemon designs I want to make but 90% of them aren’t fleshed out at all)

Tim and Sasha are Professors in their own right, and also Martin’s assistants/fellow researchers

Tim has a Houndoom because I saw another TMA Pokémon AU that gave him one and I really liked the idea, he also has a Ludicolo because I lost a debate with my friend who is also into both TMA and Pokémon

Sasha has a Dartrix and a Meowstic

Most of the Avatars are gym leaders

(Yippee gym leader designs!)

(Not pictured because I ran out of steam before I could draw them: Michael and Helen, who run a double Electric-type gym; Daisy, who runs a Dragon-type gym; Karolina, who runs a Ground-type gym; and Jared, who runs a Normal-type gym)

Elias is the acting Champion in Jon’s absence and the secret leader of Team Chrysalis

The current Elite Four consists of Peter, Simon, Maxwell, and Annabelle

You might have noticed that Jon and the gym leaders are all wearing (mostly) black pendants/brooches

This is part of the Ervenis’ region’s “gimmick:”

Metafestation (which is. Almost definitely a placeholder name)

Skilled trainers can use special items called Metalenses to tap into the psyches of Pokemon and Trainer to manifest the shape of their desires and the power of their emotions in reality.

You basically give the Pokémon a JoJo Stand

Each Metalens must be specially shaped and cut to suit unique trainers and Pokémon, and since using poorly made Metalenses may have disastrous consequences on its users, only a handful of people have the qualifications and legal authorization to do so

(Gerard Keay is one of these people!)

Metalenses are usually worn as pendants or brooches so they’re close to the user’s heart

For the Metafestation power-up to be strongest, the trainer and Pokémon must have a shared goal/desire and a deep bond

(This bond does not have to be a positive one. It just needs to be strong.)

These Metafestations have their own typing system, though no one’s been able to figure out exactly what it is yet.

It’s the Fears. The Fears are the typing system.

Though most users of this system aren’t aware of it, Metafestation comes from achieving a delicate balance of both desire and fear.

When I first came up with this idea, it was JUST Fear, but I felt like that was a bit dark for frickin POKÉMON so I added the desire aspect

After all, what we fear and and what we desire often go hand in hand

You desire safety because you fear its absence, you desire light because you fear the dark, you desire freedom because you fear being confined, etc.

For example, Professor Blackwood desires companionship, and fears being forgotten. Most of the Metafestations he and his Pokémon create are foggy and cold, but in a way soothing at the same time.

Though a small handful of them are spindly and laced with puppet strings and reflect his desire to wield his cunning for good.

(However, he hasn’t been able to properly use his Metalens in years. The first and only time he tried after his husband vanished, it backfired horribly, consuming both him and his Pokémon in a chilling fog and sending them spiraling into unconsciousness. It took weeks for them to recover, and Professor Blackwood bears a physical scar of the incident in the streaks of stark white in his hair.)

Of course, most people don’t have just one desire/fear. The Metalens just channels the strongest ones, and most users don’t achieve more than three separate tertiary types of power-ups.

One of the biggest exceptions is Jon.

He desires many things: Safety, love, knowledge. He also fears many things: Being manipulated and controlled, abandonment, the unknown.

When he was a child, something happened to him that scarred his psyche in such a way that he could channel all of his desires and fears.

It’s what makes him such a potent conduit for the power-up system, and what makes him a prime target for:

Team Chrysalis

Team Chrysalis is a criminal organization/sort of cult disguised as something innocent: The Magnus Institute, the region’s main research institution that Professor Blackwood works at

The AU’s main plot gets kicked off when Professor Blackwood finds evidence that his husband, the missing Champion, is still alive

If this were a real game, the main story on the side of doing the gym challenge would be helping Professor Blackwood look for clues about Jon’s whereabouts and about The Magnus Institute’s hidden goals

Professor Blackwood also figures out that it’s very likely that Elias had a hand in Jon’s disappearance

(Professor Blackwood for the other half of the main plot: *slams down the Do Not Open coffin in front of Elias* It’s a coffin. There’s a name engraved on it. “WHORE!” IT’S EMPTY!! *grabs Elias by the collar* AND YOU’RE GOING IN IT!!!)

The Elite Four are also part of Team Chrysalis and fully on board with its plan

Though Annabelle might have her own machinations going on

Team Chrysalis plans to reshape the world as they see fit by summoning a Legendary Pokémon that’s a warped physical manifestation of the fears and desires of all living creatures, and simultaneously embodies and feeds on those fears and desires

(It’s basically all the Fears mashed into one eldritch monstrosity)

(I’m mildly worried this sounds too similar to some existing legendaries but at the same time I’m just spitballing and having fun here)

To summon this Legendary, they need a lynchpin capable of channeling all of those fears and desires

This lynchpin is Jon because of course it is.

Team Chrysalis’ whole plan actually only serves to grant Elias immortality and make him king of a ruined world but shhh none of the team members know that

I have zero idea what the Legendary would look like, I just have the fact I want it to have “Pan” in its name

The climax of the story comes when Team Chrysalis starts their ritual and the end of the world. In order to stop them, their Vessel and the Legendary must be defeated.

You are challenged by The Archivist!

The Really Self Indulgent Part

I started working on this at the same time that my friend was watching through XY for the first time

So at some point when coming up with all of the story stuff my brain went “what if I stuck Ash Ketchum into the story?”

So Ash is there now. For some reason lol

He’s 19 now and is just doing his thing and traveling the world

As usual, he takes on the player’s role, challenging gyms and helping Professor Blackwood in his investigation and eventually helping him take on Team Chrysalis

(I made this shitpost in like. Less than an hour lmao)

Ash is so done with these evil team leaders trying to destroy the world

Greninja is also there because tHIS IS MY AU AND I DO WHAT I WANT *MANIACAL LAUGHTER*

And I think that’s it for an overview of Pokémon Oculus!

I have a bunch more stuff for this AU, mostly spitballs and WIP writing snippets, and I do plan on making more art and Fakemon designs eventually (especially now that I’m getting better at emulating the Pokémon art style)

Thank you for reading this far, and feel free to ask me anything about this AU! :D

[mayxo-hxh]

What are your fave hisoillu fics?? :3 (I trust yr opinion heavy)

I love getting the opportunity to yap about my fav hisoillu fics because there really arent that many I like. And Ive yapped abt them before but i still love re-yapping abt them over and over. And so. Inhales. DEALER AND MIND THE SCARS!!!!!!!!

Are you into a hisoillu get-together story. Not from the very beginning, just from a comfortable point of their already existing relationship? Dealer. Dealer dealer dealer. One of the first fics ive read abt hisoillu back in 2020 and one I am still heavily fond of to this day. Their characterizations, ESPECIALLY HISOKAAAA, is so good. soooooooo good.

I could genuinely go on and on about every little detail and scenes i adore. And guess what... it has a SEQUELLLLL!!! Sequel one shots called break even!! Just as good!! I dont get why no one ever recommends this fic when recommending hisoillu fics in general like theres no way im the only devoted fan right. COME ON. READ DEALER!!!!!! READ BREAK-EVEN!!!!!!!!!

Now wait. hear me OUT. Are you into. Hisoka being vulnerable. Hisoka post chrollo fight meeting back up with illumi and dealing with the aftermath of the injuries. and do u like it all going so wrong it gets u in ur feels until it goes right and u start bawling in ur double feels. do u like the involvement of leorio and a possible teamup of him and illumi. do u like killua finding out his older brother is dating hisoka in the worst-funniest way possible. DO U LIKE ALLUKA. u MUSt. MUSTTTT. read mind the scars. MIND THE SCARRRSSSSSSS. I cannot fucking stress this enough. One of-- dare I say THE best written fic for hisoillu on ao3. Its a masterpiece from the ground up. I would even recommend it over dealer. Thats how badly I NEED you to read it. If mind the scars has no fans then im dead.

sorry for the extremely messy reply-- i havent slept in over 24 hours bcs of semester submission withdrawals lmao.

Anyways!! As always, I also have my bookmarks on AO3 that recommend some hisoillu fics that i found worthwhile to read ^^

and if u fuck with my hcs... then ull also fuck with my own fics!! (on the same account) But I gotta warn, theyre VERY specifically made Just For Me. It may not be a very general cup of tea for everyone. demi virgin hisoillu, trans hisoka, and my favorite stupid au where hisoka is a mermaid and illumi is a human diver-- u get my drift. I'm the target audience. I self indulge HARD and generally write my fics for myself, or rather what I wish to see more of in the fandom, based on my niche hcs.

Have fun!!! (join the mind the scars fanbase NOWWWW)(pls)

[ashlynniis-bracketeers]

REBORN KING GREGOR {Limbus Company}

Woe, extremely self-indulgent concept be upon ye. A.K.A. "What if Gregor got an ID where he was both happy with himself (not in the "throws himself into being a weapon" sense) AND more bug?"

I've had this design/concept, through multiple revisions, sitting around for ages. Finally got around to making a colored piece of him after seeing some people theorize that he's going to Bug Out™ at some point after what we've seen in the new Intervallo. So I decided to take this concept back out of the shed to finally post it publicly. The two sketch pages are a hodgepodge of sketches of different ages from multiple other concepting sheets lmao. He deserves to be both happy and more bug at the same time. Most of his "happy" IDs have him lack his bug arm.

Meet Gregor, the Reborn King! He's a funky earwig-mantis-roach thing that runs his own cult of personality.

I'm not going to hash out any coin or Sin Affinity info, because I don't know what to give him for those things. I also don't know if he'd work better as a Bleed + Poise unit or Bleed + Rupture unit. All I know is that his "in-game" gimmick would basically be Dawn-Office Fixer Sinclair and Wild Hunt Heathcliff's "form change" gimmicks taken to the extreme: Progressing through multiple forms where he cannot change back after reaching the next form (kind of like a Pokemon evolution). These forms are Base (1), Chrysalis (2), and Reborn King (3). Base needs to build up enough stacks of a unique status (which I'm calling "satiety" for now), which then makes him enter Chrysalis, which he needs to survive (with special Guard skills) for a specific amount of turns to emerge as the speedy glass cannon that is the Reborn King state. Each state has completely different moves and/or Affinities.

TL;DR for this Greg's story: His bug mutations became more severe, and then one day his body made a chrysalis, and then he came out both as Extra Bug and with both human arms back. Then he founded a cult... or maybe the cult found him. Who knows lmao. Compared to being treated like an animal, a mere tool, a weapon with no humanity, running a cult is a pretty sweet gig. Definitely a better gig than a lot of fates in the City lmao.

(Meta + in-universe) Info:

- His cult is simply known as the "Cult of the Reborn King".

- He's got little mantis feetsies at the end of his big claws! I drew them (and the feet on his legs) simplified.

- He's got the mantis shimmy when walking. You know the one. He prefers to fly when wanting to get anywhere with any good speed.

- The amount of bug limbs he has is asymmetrical. One on the right side of his face, two on his neck, his two big claws, one tiny claw on the right side of his torso, and four legs, making for ten bug limbs in total (not counting wings and tail). If they were symmetrical, then there would be twelve.

- His general body shape/posture and big claws are that of a mantis, while the wings and tail shape/pincers are those of an earwig. Pinchy tail and big fancy wings that fit in a tiny elytra. - (Fun fact: Did you know that roaches, mantises, and termites are all related? They're all Dictyopterans.)

- He probably has a Mouth of a Thousand Nightmares if he fully opens it. Just don't let him catch you catching him cleaning his claw-feet like how mantises do it and you should be fine lmao.

- Unlike earwigs, he has a stinger. No venom or ovipositor, he just Fucking Stabs You. It's retractable, so he generally keeps his pincers closed over it.

- The extra asymmetrical limbs + plating on his face are based off of the G Corp Manager Corporal Gregor ID.

- The thing he's holding is a fancy smoking pipe, its shapes based off of his old pre-chrysalis claw.

I hope you like it!

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Calling all enjoyers of the OrangeJuiceVerse and teenage shenanigans!

That’s right, it’s time for another episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE, and this one is SO self indulgent like I know that’s the purpose of this series, just self indulgent orange flavored bonus content, but this one, mannnnn.

Essentially (PCE stfu about OJV Kyle’s bad knee), I was thinking about how i really didn’t let my annoying ass get into the gang as 15 year olds very much post A Fall In The Springtime. So I wanted to explore that dynamic a little more, featuring stupid fights, getting scolded by your parents, Kyle being an angry little fucker, and the way one person in a friend group getting sick means everyone’s getting the plague lmao. Set a couple days after AFITS, here’s

•Fuck It, We Ball•

Stan sighed as he approached the bus stop, Cartman and Kyle already engrossed in whatever they were arguing about now. And so it begins.

He planted himself at Kenny’s side, kicking at the slush that had refrozen with the temperature dropping again over the last few days. Damn March and its unpredictability. “Dude, how do they have the energy for this at seven in the morning?”

“Oh, you know how these two get when they’re bored,” Kenny said nonchalantly. “Probably why Ky suggested takin’ the bus today.”

That made sense. While Stan and the others had taken to making their own ways to school being sophomores, carpooling and the like for the most part, occasionally they’d all load up on the bus for nostalgia’s sake on days nobody had to stay late for extracurriculars. Kyle had been leading the charge in that the past couple weeks, bored being out of basketball and irritable while his knee healed. It honestly wasn’t surprising that he’d find excitement in the childhood routine of debating Cartman, and Cartman just liked to rile Kyle up in general, not that it was hard these days. Stan had laughed his ass off just the other day at his boyfriend’s claim that he was “drowning in ennui”. Dramatic, but warranted.

“IT WAS STUPID WHEN WE WERE NINE, AND IT’S MORE RIDICULOUS NOW!” Stan’s attention was drawn to his boyfriend’s shrill screeching. “BEING GINGER IS NOT LIKE BEING A VAMPIRE!”

Cartman was grinning in a very self satisfied way. “You burn in the sun, you’re creepy, you suck souls…”

“YOU’RE SO GODDAMN STUPID!!!”

Kyle, directly ensnared in their friend’s trap, moved to swing at him with a crutch, but overshot and was slipping forward, slamming into the ground with a loud “FUCK!”

Stan, Kenny, and even Cartman froze, eyes wide and speechless because Kyle was already hurt; slipping on the ice like that had no doubt made it worse. Kyle curled into the fetal position, clutching his bad knee and cursing up a storm. Stan ran to him in an instant.

“Dude, shit, okay, okay. Fuck, did you hit it?”

“What the HELL do you think,” Kyle hissed, writhing a little in the snow. He’d only recently been able to bend his knee semi-normally again, only with support, and here he was holding it to his chest in a way that definitely couldn’t be comfortable.

“S-Stan, I… GOD, FUCK YOU CARTMAN!!!”

That back and forth was always a good indicator of Kyle’s level of aggravation. He was extremely quick when he was upset enough. Less aggressive on his own, Stan jumped to his partner’s defense without hesitation.

“Why the shit would you work him up like that, huh?!?” Stan demanded, taking their obnoxious friend by the collar of his coat. He gave him a shake, not enough to actually hurt, but Cartman still whined like a pitiful little creature. “He can’t fight anyone yet! He can’t even stand!”

Kyle dragged himself a little down the ice. “I can buttfucking stand! Dramaticfuckass-“

He crumpled under the weight of his own body. Stan caught his neck before his head could whack the ice. “Dude!”

“I’m going to obliterate you,” Kyle warned.

Stan wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t dare. Instead, he gently scooped Kyle into his arms, relieved when he felt wiry arms latch instinctually around his neck. He turned to the other two as he rose. “Grab his shit.”

Thankfully, Kyle’s house was the closest to the bus stop, and under the rapid pounding of his own heart, Stan could hear Kyle’s pissed off mumbling and sporadic whimpers of pain.

“I’m trying to be careful, dude,” he promised. “I know it’s still hurting.”

“Yeah, because some FAT ASSHOLE made me FALL!” Kyle seethed in Cartman’s direction.

“Ay! You’re the one who was trying to hit me, JewBot!”

Stan spun around to shoot Cartman a glare. “You started it and you know it, fuckknob. Give the backpack to Kenny and fuck off to school if you’re gonna keep causing problems.”

Cartman snorted. “I would, but Kahl’s bitch mom is going to pitch a fit and I happen to find that shit funny, obviously.”

“DON’T CALL MY MOM A BITCH!”

Ohhhh boy. It was definitely too early for all this. Kenny bounded up to the porch, using Kyle’s crutches to knock on the front door. “Guys, tone it down,” he advised before turning the knob. Nobody really locked their doors around here, and they all knew it.

“Yo, Mrs B!” Kenny announced their presence as the boys filed into the foyer.

Only Kyle’s mom would be home around this time, Stan knew. Ike usually rode to his early college high school program with their dad, since it was closer to Gerald’s firm. Sheila tended to fill her days with community meetings and clubs and volunteer work, but she usually stuck around the house until the rest of the family was safely at school and work, ruling the group chat with an iron fist. A veritable lioness when it came to her boys, that one.

Which was why her alarmed gasp upon seeing her eldest son glowering in Stan’s arms wasn’t surprising in the slightest.

“Kyle! Boys! What on earth happened?!”

“He slipped on the ice,” Stan explained, gingerly easing him down onto the couch. “Bashed his knee pretty good.”

Sheila let out a “WHAT?!?”, and Kyle groaned, clearly already done with his mother. “Ma, please don’t freak out. I just need to put it up a few hours or whatever, it’s fine.”

She planted her hands on her hips and stared each of the boys down like only a mother could. Cartman actually cowered a little, avoiding eye contact.

“And just how did you fall, huh, bubbeh?” She demanded of her son. “I thought I told you to be careful.”

Stan hated having to do damage control, but Sheila trusted him, so he was probably the best bet at the guys avoiding too much trouble. “He and Cartman were just arguing. You know how carried away they can get.”

“Don’t look at me, Mrs Broflovski,” Cartman said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Kahl tried to whack me! It’s not my fault his little bird bones gave out.”

“SHUT UP CARTMAN!”

“Kyle!” Sheila scolded. “Inside voices! And how many times do I have to tell you boys not to roughhouse when it’s slippery outside?”

All four of them mumbled varying apologies, even though he and Kenny hadn’t been involved. Kyle’s mom kept raving.

“And here I was about to head out the door! Oy, I’ll have to tell the book club ladies I won’t make it to brunch, and goodness! The PTA meeting will need to be rescheduled, and I suppose I’ll have to put out a grocery order for delivery and miss the deals I’d get going myself-“

“Ma,” Kyle interrupted, even more overwhelmed than he had been. “You don’t need to change your plans or anything. I know you have a full day.”

“You can’t just stay home alone! What if you’ve hurt your knee worse?!”

Stan could tell his boyfriend wanted to roll his eyes. “It really isn’t a big deal, okay? And I’m not alone. The guys can help me if I need anything.”

Kenny had already taken to removing Kyle’s hat for him and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Yeah, we got ‘im, scout’s honor.”

“The hippie would probably stay anyway,” Cartman pointed out. He had migrated to the kitchen and was rifling through the freezer, hopefully for an ice pack and not to raid the snacks.

Well, as much as Cartman was a dick, he wasn’t wrong. Stan had no intention of leaving Kyle’s side.

Kyle’s mom pursed her lips and checked her watch. Stan could practically see her internal conflict: would she deviate from her carefully curated schedule to stay home and smother her son, or would she let four teenage boys skip school and hang out in her living room? He turned on his best “charming and trustworthy” face; he usually had good luck with adults.

Sheila sighed, and Stan felt disproportionately victorious. The woman was even more expressive than Kyle was. Clearly, the gang was about to get a day off class with no grown up supervision. Yes!

“Fine,” she relented. “But only because I’m already running late. I’ll see if I can get all four of you an excused absence.”

That definitely wasn’t going to be an issue. Principal Charles would just love the idea of them practicing “wholesome male friendship and emotional support” and all that. If that wasn’t the conclusion the principal came to on his own, Cartman was a master manipulator and could talk himself, and the rest of them by extension, out of trouble.

Sheila grabbed her purse and bent down to kiss her son’s forehead, leaving a lipstick mark. “You’re a little warm, Kyle, do you feel-“

“Ma, I was wearing a hat,” Kyle groaned. “Please give the worrying a rest.”

“Fine, fine,” she clucked, shaking her head. “You boys just behave, do you hear me? And Stanley, you call me if I need to come home.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When the door shut behind her, Kyle groaned yet again, dramatically throwing his arms over his eyes. “I swear to God, she’s gonna be fussing over me like I’m a kid until the end of time.”

“Totally weak,” Cartman agreed.

“She just gets concerned about you,” Kenny reminded him. “I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t have a reason.”

Stan almost expected Kyle to fly into a rage at that, but he just sighed. “Can’t wait to be done with the goddamn crutches so she can chill the fuck out.”

Yeah, Sheila Broflovski ever chilling the fuck out was probably about as likely as Randy sobering up. Not gonna happen. And Kyle had gotten more than just the hair, nose, and height from his mother; he’d also gotten her temper, so Stan chose to let him believe she’d let up once he could walk.

“Ha! That’ll be the day,” Cartman laughed as he turned away from the freezer, ice pack in one hand and a popsicle in the other.

Stan caught the pack easily when it was tossed his way, ignoring their resident troublemaker in favor of getting his super best boyfriend’s leg elevated better. “This okay, baby?”

“Yeah, it-“ Kyle cut off with a wince. “Doesn’t hurt as bad as it did at first.”

“Still hurts, though?”

“I mean, it never really stopped hurting,” Kyle said with a shrug. “Not all the way.”

Stan had done his research after his partner first messed up his leg. What the basketball coach guessed was a sprain turned out to be a hyperextended knee and partial meniscus tear, straining the outside ligament and everything. Not an injury that required surgery, since Kyle was young and relatively healthy, but he wasn’t supposed to put any weight on it at all for a full month, was supposed to be taking anti inflammatories and painkillers. Kyle tried to downplay it, sick of being out of commission, but Stan maintained that it caused him more trouble than he admitted.

Kenny hopped up from where he’d been perched on the arm of the couch. “Where’s your drugs? I gotcha.”

“I don’t need-“

“Nightstand,” Stan interrupted. Kyle wasn’t about to weasel his way out of medication. Kenny bounded up the stairs as Kyle angrily unzipped his coat and threw it in the general direction of the jacket hooks.

“Dude, I don’t want the fucking painkillers.”

Cartman snorted from his position on the floor, where he’d claimed control of the remote and was looking for trashy reality tv. “You’ve been on crutches for weeks and you still can’t walk, you dumb bitch. Take the goddamn pills if you hurt. That’s like, common sense.”

“You wouldn’t know common sense if it bit you in the fat ass.”

As much as Stan hated to agree with Cartman, he did have a point. “Kyle, please don’t be difficult about this. We’re just trying to help.”

Kyle scowled and crossed his arms. “You can help by getting off my case. I swear, you guys are as bad as my mother.”

“No can do, firefox,” Kenny re entered the living room, holding the orange vial of painkillers aloft. “Consider us on your case like white on rice. This bottle should not still be this full.”

“Let me see that.” Stan confirmed that it was pretty obvious that Kyle had been slacking on the meds. “Dude, c’mon. Have you not been taking these?”

“I took them “as directed” or whatever the first week,” Kyle protested. “I don’t like how they make me all foggy and tired!”

Stan fought the urge to groan. “Baby, you’re literally in pain. Your leg’s gonna hurt if you don’t treat the symptoms.” He didn’t add that the fact that Kyle had been hurting and doing nothing about it had definitely played in to his irritability. He knelt down and took Kyle’s hand. “Will you just take one? For me? Your pain is my pain.”

Cartman mimed throwing up. “Jesus Christ, you fucking simp! What is this, a shitty fanfiction?!”

“SHUT UP, CARTMAN,” Kyle snapped. Then his eyes met Stan’s, and his anger dissipated some. “Damnit, Staniel. Don’t give me the face! You look like a sad puppy and- ugh, fucking fine, but if anyone draws dicks on my face while I’m taking a damn high ass nap, I’m kicking the ass of everyone in this room.”

A threat not to be taken lightly, even with Kyle’s current physical limitations. Small, injured, about to nod off from the pill he’d swallowed while he was talking, but vicious.

“No dicks, promise,” Kenny said with a hand over his heart.

“Yeah, we all know the only dick you want on your face is Stan’s-“ Cartman was cut off by a throw pillow flung in his direction. “Fine! Geez, I won’t fuck with you.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Stan offered.

Cartman rolled his eyes and went back to flipping through daytime television. “I hate your gay ass, I’m so seriously.”

———

There was only so much Real Housewives the boys could take before it got old. And Stan really didn’t give a shit what the Kardashians were up to. Even Cartman had gotten restless after a few hours, corralling Kenny out the back door to throw chunks of ice against the fence.

Kyle was still sleeping through all of it, though his sleep looked far from peaceful. Kyle didn’t usually sleep well in general, and lying in an uncomfortable position on the couch with his face tight even in sleep, he looked to be struggling. Nightmares, probably, made even weirder than normal by the drugs making him sleep harder than he usually did.

Stan didn’t have the heart to wake him up, instead just in his lookout post on the floor next to the couch. He switched the channel to National Geographic and turned the sound off, letting his head fall back next to his boyfriend’s.

He couldn’t have been asleep long, before being jolted awake by a thump and a muttered “god damnit”.

Adjusting to the dim light of the living room, Stan landed on Kyle, who had apparently walked into the doorframe in his post nap confusion. He was immediately up and darting his way.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be using your crutches! Where’re you going?”

Kyle grumbled and rubbed at his leg. “I’m running the Boston Marathon, what does it look like? I’m on a piss quest, Stanathan.”

Stan swung an arm around him for support, helping him hobble down the hall. “For fucks sake, Ky, you’re gonna hurt yourself walking around like this.”

“Didn’t think about it,” Kyle argued. “I told you the pills make me all groggy.”

They stopped at the bathroom. “Can you make it?”

Kyle hopped through and shut the door. “I’m not helpless.”

Stan leaned against the wall, trying not to laugh at the frustrated look he’d flashed. “You have a good nap, at least?”

“Had a dream I was in a wheat field.”

“A wheat field?”

“Yeah.” He heard the toilet flush and the faucet start up. “We were trying to invade a kingdom of giants with a marching band. And then I was in my car and all the tires exploded. Pedro Pascal was there.”

Steadying his boyfriend on his way back into the hall, Stan chuckled. “The Mandolorian slashed your tires?”

“Apparently.”

Heat was radiating from Kyle like a furnace. Not that he didn’t usually run warm, especially when he slept, but even Sheila had noticed earlier. Stan helped him down onto the couch and rested the back of his hand on Kyle’s face, checking for fever.

“Dude, do you feel okay? You look kinda pale, and you’re hot.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Jesus, not you too. I’m fine. I can’t be sick on top of everything else, you just worry too much.”

That wasn’t how it worked, but okay. Kenny and Cartman came barging in the kitchen door, shaking ice from their shoes in a haphazard way that a certain matriarch wouldn’t appreciate.

“I need some fucking hot chocolate!” Cartman declared, Kenny letting out a muffled agreement through his scarf before unwinding it.

“Guys,” Stan started, “have you been sick at all the past week? Like, fever, dizziness, anything?”

Kenny shrugged. “I had the sniffles a couple days ago, that’s it.”

“I don’t get sick,” Cartman insisted. “My immune system is superior. Oh, lame, you guys! Is Kahl infected with some disease now too? I mean, more than just his default.”

Kyle moaned dramatically. “Please cut it out. I’m tired, assholes.”

Stan ignored him, at least until he had a chance to check for certain. “Ken, will you get the thermometer? Under the kitchen sink. I think I might’ve given you guys that cold I had over the weekend.”

“You got over that in like, two days,” Kyle pointed out.

“That was me. This is you. And if you’ll recall, I almost cracked my head open in your bedroom,” Stan reminded him.

“Because you’re a dick who tried to ignore it.”

“And what are you doing right now?”

Kyle opened his mouth to make some remark, and Kenny took the opportunity to shove the thermometer under his tongue. Kyle glared but didn’t yank it out, probably hoping to prove them all wrong.

“Ha!” Cartman was at least a little amused reading the screen. “Of course you’re sick. What, can’t handle a little seasonal bug like the rest of us?”

Moving to lunge off the couch, Kyle swung, not missing this time, but falling to the floor nonetheless. Cartman wailed like he’d just been stabbed.

“Did- did you guys see that?! Kahl totally got me in the eye! Oh, god, I’m blind! I’m suing your crippled ass!”

“Knock it off, Fatboy, you’re fine,” Kenny said tiredly. “Kyley, I think we should get you up to bed and call your mom.”

Stan was inclined to agree, not just because Kyle was definitely running a temperature now, but also because he’d just fallen for the second time in the span of a few hours, and there was no way even Kyle could deny how much that had to hurt. He scooted the coffee table out of the way to help him up.

“Okay, use the good side, I’ve got you.”

Kyle had gotten pretty graceful at using the pistol squat method to get up without putting weight on his bad knee over the past few weeks. He’d always been deceptively strong, even like now when he was sick and drawn, and Stan was just kind of there just in case he faltered.

“Don’t call my mom,” he pleaded. “It’s just a little fever. I can probably sleep it off.”

Well, considering his ridiculous stubbornness, Kyle could probably argue that illness going around right out of his body. “You can try, dude, but Sheila’s gonna be pissed I didn’t tell her.”

“I’ll handle it,” Kyle mumbled, accepting his crutches and letting Kenny and Stan accompany him to the stairs. “Will you guys stay?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Even Cartman?”

“Pshh, like I wanna stick around for the jew to get pissed off and try to kill me again.”

The guys knew Cartman well enough to know that was just his way of saying he didn’t want to be the reason Kyle got carried away and hurt himself, but they didn’t point that out.

“Then fuck off, fatass. Go manipulate the FBI or whatever you get up to,” Kyle said with another eyeroll.

Cartman snorted. “Eh, it’s still pretty early. Maybe I’ll start a cult or something.” He grinned mischievously. “See you assholes.”

Kenny flipped on the hall light. “I wonder what it is that he actually does in his spare time.”

“Something stupid or illegal.” Kyle groaned as he was helped into bed. “Or both.”

That sounded about right. Stan settled under the blankets next to him, Kenny having procured the cold meds still in the drawer from Stan having been sick. Stan read the pack carefully before handing Kyle a few capsules. “Here, dude. It’s the daytime shit. No acetaminophen or any of the crap that’ll fuck with your other drugs.”

“Thanks.”

Kyles massive “Ass Pro Shops” tumbler, a Kenny McCormick creation that was forever stationed on Kyle’s nightstand with its blue silicone straw, washed down the medicine before Kyle lied back with a sigh. He was clearly still in pain, and now feverish to top it off. “Have I mentioned yet that I’m really fucking annoyed?”

Kenny snorted, casually shooting the mini basketball into the hoop mounted on the closet door. “Darlin’, you’ve made that pretty clear.”

Stan wrapped him up in his arms, carefully, like his boyfriend might attack like a wounded animal. And here we see an injured fox, in his burrow, directly after fighting off the raccoon. He has allowed the continued company of the bear and the opossum, who continue to aid in his recovery. The rabbit often accompanies this ragtag group, though she would likely be unwilling to leave school, fearing both the agitated fox’s anger and a potential to be grounded.

Laughing at his mental nature documentary comparison was probably not in his best interest, lest Kyle assume he was being made fun of, so Stan just kissed his boyfriend’s flushed cheek. “You gonna be able to fall asleep again?”

Kyle snuggled closer. “Mm, if you keep holding me like this.”

Stan knew both he and Kenny would have to leave his side eventually. Kenny had basketball practice and Stan had off season football conditioning. He could get out of classes today, sure, but coach wasn’t about to ease up on him, not with Stan set to play first string in the fall. If South Park had one thing (other than cattle) to be proud of, it was high school sports.

Still, he’d savor this moment, getting to take care of him with Kenny for backup, and he’d probably cave and stay if Kyle asked.

———

The alarm clock on the nightstand flashed that it was almost three when Sheila poked her head in to whisper (or her version of it, at least), “boys!”

Uncharacteristically, Stan was the first to wake, followed by Kenny, who had curled up at the foot of the bed like a pet, while Kyle only moaned and rolled over.

“Yes ma’am?” Stan mumbled, rubbing his eyes and disoriented from their nap.

The matriarch planted her hands on her hips, one auburn brow arched in concern. “Is everything alright? Eric already left?”

“Mhm. A while ago. He went because he was making Ky mad again and they were trying to fight and we all didn’t want him to hurt himself more. It was Cartman’s decision.” Stan didn’t know why he was defending the dickhole who liked to mess with his favorite person. Maybe because Cartman had recently shown a few redeeming qualities, plus Stan felt bad in general about giving the guys his cold. “Kyle, he didn’t want us to call you, but he’s running a bit of a fever. Or, he was a few hours ago. We got some medicine in him, so hopefully it’s down.”

“WHAT WHAT WHAT?!”

Kyle sat up quickly, squeaking a little in his confusion. “Ma, what’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

She rushed over, immediately all over her son. “Oh, I knew it! I knew you were warm this morning! Call it a motha’s intuition, but I knew you’d caught what’s going around that school of yours!”

“He’s okay, Mrs. B,” Kenny cut in. “Stanny and I both got over it quick, and Cartman definitely had it but didn’t even complain, and you know how he is.”

Sheila sighed, hands still on the face of an absolutely peeved Kyle. “Oh, I suppose. I just, I worry! About all of you! And my poor baby is already hurt, I can’t imagine how miserable it must be-“

“Ma, please. I’m okay. Just let me go back to sleep.”

Turning to the other two, who had gotten up and were standing attentively like seven year olds in trouble, she offered a motherly smile. “Why don’t the two of you go down and make yourselves a snack?” She suggested. “You have to leave for your sports soon, right? Can’t go on an empty stomach!”

Kenny opened his mouth to protest, but Stan knew how Sheila’s mind operated. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer, especially while she had already blustered into full caretaking mode at the mention of her child under the weather. She’d do that for all five of them, yeah, but as much as Kyle would kick his ass if he said it, Kyle had always been more prone to physical problems than the rest.

“Will do. Ken, sandwiches real quick and we head to the school?”

“Works for me, brother. Thank you, Mrs B.”

Sheila smiled tensely, trying to force feed Kyle the lukewarm water at his bedside. Stan reached around her to squeeze his hand. “Okay, dude?”

“I’m okay. Little plague and a fucked up leg can’t take me out.”

“Kyle, language!”

Stan had to laugh. “We left the thermometer downstairs,” he offered. “If you want to check again. We’ll be outa here in a sec.” He kissed the back of Kyle’s hand, noticing how glassy his eyes were, all the brighter in their fever flush. “Can I come check on you after?” He was asking both Kyle and his mother.

They answered in unison, which made Kenny laugh. “Aight, loverboy, let’s feed us so we don’t die during suicides.”

The irony wasn’t lost on either of them when they made it down the stairs into the kitchen. “Dude, I really hate the idea of leaving him alone.”

Kenny retrieved sandwich supplies eagerly from the fridge and cabinets. They all knew where everything was kept in each other’s houses.

“He’s not alone. Got his mama, and you know she’s leaping at the chance. Where do ya think Ky gets it?”

True. Both Kyle and Sheila shared that overbearing motherly quality. They thrived on caring for people.

Problem was, Kyle was a godawful patient, and Stan liked to coddle him in spite of the protests.

“Make me a pb&j, will you?” He asked Kenny. “I’m gonna heat up some soup for Ky. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, if he did have that.”

“He’s gonna get annoyed,” Kenny pointed out.

That was true, but still. “Dude, my boyfriend is hurt, sick, stubborn as fuck, and diabetic. I’m not letting his levels get messed up.”

Kenny laughed. “Just marry him already. You’d make a great overprotective husband.”

“Sick, man, we’re kids!”

“That has nothing to do with what I just said. I’m talkin’ future shit.”

Stan dumped a can of chicken noodle into the pot he’s grabbed. “You deadass said “already”. We’re sixteen and fifteen.”

“You’re still gonna be a good husband one day.” Kenny was building sandwiches, didn’t look up. “We call him a mom, but you’re absolutely the type of dad to be waiting on the porch with a shotgun if your daughter brings home a date. Not that your pacifistic ass would use it.”

That was true, guns were not his favorite. “Ken, knock it off.” He checked on the time. “Hey, drink some water. We should head out as soon as we eat.”

Canned soup was easy and quick enough to heat up, and Stan had it poured into a bowl with a few crackers on the side by the time Kenny had gotten sandwiches and drinks set up on the bar. “Gonna take this up to Ky, be right back.”

“Leaning into that knight in shining armor complex pretty hard today, huh?”

Stan flipped him off over his shoulder.

In Kyle’s room, Shiela was humming at a low volume, fussing with the covers and the washcloth she’d laid on his forehead. Kyle saw him first.

“Dudeeee,” he complained. “Tell Ma I’m okay and she doesn’t need to smother me.”

Laughing and setting the soup on the table, Stan leaned over to run his fingers through Kyle’s hair. “Sorry, but I’m on her side, dude.” He gave Sheila a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, I just, he was already getting pretty good rest and I didn’t want to rile him up-“

“Oh, believe me,” she said pointedly. “I know he’d have only worked himself up.”

“I’m right here!”

“See what I mean?” Sheila put on her all business face. “Bubbeh, Stanley and Kenny have to leave soon for practice.”

Kyle looked positively betrayed. “Dude, you’re actually leaving me?”

“You need more rest, baby. I can maybe come back and visit after conditioning?” Yeah, right. More than likely, his mom would veto any more company until Kyle was over the fever. “You need to eat and keep taking it easy.”

“Yes, sir,” Kyle grumbled sarcastically.

Stan suppressed another laugh and kissed the back of his hand again before turning to Sheila. “We’ll be out the door in a few minutes. I’ll ask before coming after.”

She nodded. “I think that would be best. Thank you for helping out today, Stan.”

“Definitely, dude.” Then he froze. He called his own mother dude, but he had never called Kyle’s mom that. Thankfully, she smiled fondly.

“You boys just put your dishes in the sink when you’re done. Have a good practice.”

Stan grinned and kissed Kyle again before heading back down. Kenny was halfway through his sandwich when he plopped down and snorted.

“Man, I totally just called Ky’s mother “dude”,” he commented.

Kenny giggled. “Only you, brother. Gotta tell ya, I think this basketball team thing? This is probably a one time deal.”

“You’re not planning to play next year?”

“It’s just, well, it was only fun with Kyle, and he’s out for a hot minute. Plus I could be spending my free time workin’. Lot to think about, ya know? And it’s not like you and football. I just wanted to try it out.”

Stan understood. He’d cycled through plenty of hobbies himself. “Why not just go ahead and quit?”

Kenny shook his head. “Season’s almost over, anyway. Gotta finish it out. So, for now…” he saluted with his sandwich. “Fuck it. We ball.”

[amazingdeadfish]

Blue and Violet Scenes/Ideas that never made the cut

Self Indulgent post ahead, but I kind of wanted to share some of the things that had been part of the early stages of BAV but were cut out when I finally started publishing! Most of this stuff was either cut out due to my interpretations of the characters naturally changing and/or I simply realized that these aspects simply could not fit the story I wanted to tell (or, they are just silly things I simply could not fit into the plot line. OR, I forgot about them and didn't remember these things existed until now 💀).

Starting off strong with a thing I actually wrote a segment for (an idea that was relatively recent compared to the ones down below): During Colours, Baihe and Macaque were meant to visit the ruins of her house and try and salvage any bits and pieces which might help them find her parents. In the end I had decided that, Baihe would have done that already before Macaque found her on the park bench. I just think that that moment between her and her old home should just... well, it's a moment that belongs to her. Something Macaque didn't need to bare witness.

Extra Info: This is where Baihe was originally meant to find the old photo of her, her parents, and Māo as a kitten. And... Macaque is there in the background. Stealing an air fryer that managed to survive the wreckage (this was in fact written into the draft of this segment).

Next is- well, it contains a bit of a heavy topic. It's about Mayor and LBD and... erm...

In the published version of TQFTSK. Macaque betrays the Chief and locks them in the Calabash and this inevitably leads to LBD telling Chief to cut off their hair. Originally, this was not going to be the only thing she would do.

I have incredibly mixed feelings about this concept, but basically, after Chief especially failed to get the key and 'let' Macaque escape, LBD would have had severe insecurities about the Chief being on their own and the idea that they would never be able to get anything done without her. So, she made them wear a collar. So that every time they didn't do anything right, the needles imbedded into it would dig into their throat and- well, it was basically torture. She would have called it 'necessary discipline'. Of course, the collar would not be visible to anyone. It only appears when it's 'necessary'.

But this was an extremely early concept that I threw away in the bin after realising that this was not what I wanted LBD and Mayor's relationship to be like. While the initial idea behind this was to really empathize the fact that LBD owns Mayor and is extremely controlling, the idea of a physical collar ruins that aspect of their relationship. It's a visual and painful representation of their relationship, sure, but it made their relationship too negative and, well, Mayor loves her. And I knew it needed to be important to at least give you guys some sort of reason and some sort of argument as to why that admiration and love would be justified. The collar was just too much, and it didn't fit LBD's character to do something like this.

Side Note: One thing I think subconsciously happened though, was the needle thing. LBD ended up killing Ling with tens of thin needles piercing through their body. So, not a collar, but the basic principle of needles being used for pain... remains. It may or may not be to do with the idea of 'stitching up a puppet to fix its mistakes'.

Moving on, a more silly one this time! Somewhere near the beginnings of all of this (all the way back when I had only planned to make TQFTSK and Colours), there was going to be one single chapter (in Colours) dedicated to the Mayor going through all the stages of grief (eventually I'd come to the conclusion that they needed a lot more than one chapter to do all of that lmao). As a part of their bargaining stage, Macaque was going to stumble upon them in a bar and- unfortunately, being the curious nut he is, decides to stick around and just listen to the Mayor drunkenly mope.

PSA: No, this would not have ended in drunk kissing. This was meant to end in a snotty nosed Mayor and Macaque promptly leaving after he'd had his bit of listening to their misery.

Another thing was that Mayor was meant to be able to see souls! This particular story feature eventually just evolved into Mayor simply being able to judge a soul by looking at their eyes (hence the whole, "eyes are the gateway to the soul").

Another Note: This whole idea was also meant to emphasize the fact that Mayor has no soul and, how whenever they look inside themselves, there is no colour and there is no soul (that is, until they get their soul back). But, well, I figured their eyes alone would be able to do all of that just fine without this ability.

Now, as ashamed as I am to admit, originally I had completely bought into the Baihe, Macaque, and Mayor family dynamic. So, in the beginning, this was what was going to happen.

But then I decided Baihe was not going to conveniently be an orphan or have shitty parents for the sake of this dynamic. No, no no no. She will have loving parents, character development, and she will be more than just a character to fill in the slot of 'the child'. Whenever I write Baihe, I always strive to not use her for the sake of developing Macaque and Mayor's characters. No shame to those who like this dynamic though, its a good one and it's so silly (I still like it to be honest).

Now, let me tell you that there are a LOT more unused concepts than this. It's really just a decent slice from a never ending pile of WIPs and shower thoughts scribbled onto a doc from all the way back in like... 2022-23.

[projectshadowz]

i made an extremely self-indulgent sonic g/t au and am now writing a fanfiction for it.

here are some refs,,, first up are sonic and tails. i ripped tails' goggles straight from sonic boom.

they live together in a house they just moved into, and strange things have been going on..

next up are shadow and rouge, who are both borrowers. they are both basically about 3 inches tall in this, with rouge being a little taller.

they live in sonic and tails' house and steal stuff giggles evilly,, theyve been living there since before sonic and tails moved there actually

this au has sonadow in it and so will the fanfic. i wanted to see more g/t sonadow,, so i decided yknow what ill make some myself

and finally... here is a ref of shadow and rouge's mini home. yes the beds are matchboxes and the rest of the furniture are things made for toys that actually work. this is very messy and low effort because i didnt want to put too much effort in it LMAO

they barely have anything help

this is my first tumblr post so i have no idea if thisll do good HELPDaauahh

ANDD... heres the fanfic!!!

go read it if you want, its ongoing with 3 chapters made so far!!!

KEEP IN MIND,,, i havent written anything seriously like this since like, middle school. so my writing is a bit rusty and may not be good at times,, bare with me 🙏

[lemonzestywrites]

❤️✨🖤✨

i did a poll for the next posting and y’all have spoken! this next snippet takes immediately after this posting with a bit more soft dom buck!

also i got extremely indulgent with this one so ummm...enjoy the VERY long post LMAO

✨(nsfw under the cut!)✨ft. rimming (dont say you weren't warned!)

====

He’s not really used to this. A part of him isn’t really sure what to do with it- with this endless pleasure that’s fully and entirely his. 

There are no strings attached, no ulterior motives, really. Just Buck, who’s knelt between his legs and seems more than happy to linger there, driving Eddie fucking insane with nothing else but his tongue. (Holy shit, that tongue-)

Buck laps at his hole with such a hungry eagerness. Eddie strains against his bonds, writhing from the pleasure, his own cock dying for relief. But even as badly as he wants to seek out his own release, he knows better. Knows that’s not up to him, even as badly as he wants it.

Another sweet drag of Buck’s tongue sends a sharp shockwave of electricity up Eddie’s spine. He moans, the sound muffled and garbled behind the gag. Fuck. He’s not going to survive this. There’s no way.

He just manages to keep his hips from buckling again. Buck’s hands give his ass a slight, small squeeze as wordless encouragement. Eddie feels the heat of his mouth momentarily pull away, for a second. “Good boy, Eddie.”

The praise floods down Eddie’s cheeks, a burning wildfire claiming everything in its path. Scorching every inch of his skin, extinguishing every breath. He buries his face further into the mattress to steady himself, not minding the wet patch of drool pooling beneath him.

Buck dives back in not a moment later, the motion not faltering in intensity or desire. Maybe even increasing, as Buck devours him in full, the vibrations of his very self-satisfied hum doing fucking wonders to Eddie. A particular pass has Eddie instinctually bitting down on the silicone ball, the most depraved of moans being pulled from him as he does so.

Holy shit. He knew Buck was good with his mouth but this- 

This is borderline fucking illegal. It has to be- good fucking god. 

Eddie’s head spins, the world around him dizzying as he tries so desperately to at least force some air into his lungs, to make some attempt to ground himself here. He tries- he tries so hard-, but the air is too thin, too frail. His body tries to balance through every sensation, juggling through pleasure and desperation, through need and want. 

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Distantly as if miles away, he feels the warmth behind him retract slightly. Eddie whines, the sound needy and raw, though still muffled, as all of the sweet gorgeous bliss he was being offered suddenly pauses. 

The whole world drops off its kilter and every inch of his body aches in desperate depraved need.

But just like before, he feels a familiar warmth crawl up his back once more, but this time there’s no harshness to it, no domineering edge that carries an authority like it did earlier. The motion is still confident and sure, just…softer. Broad hands slide up Eddie’s sides with easy familiarity, an act that tugs at Eddie, grounding him to this moment. Buck retakes his place, spread along Eddie’s back again, tucking his head on top of his shoulder.

“Breathe,” Buck whispers. An order. Though it doesn’t really feel like one; not in the way Eddie’s used to. Because it doesn’t draw fear or demand respect. Buck’s voice is warm, gentle, even. “Take a big deep breath for me. Eddie. In through your nose; as much as you can take.”

Maybe in a clearer head, the rate and ease in which Eddie succumbs to Buck’s instruction might’ve been a surprise to him, but here at least, it doesn’t. He follows Buck’s words without a second's hesitation, inhaling through his nose, slowly taking in as much air as his lungs can allow.

It’s not like Eddie has ever had a problem with authority per se, not in the way he’s seen with other people, a fellow soldier disobeying an order, or another classmate making a snide comment from his fire instructor's lecture. Eddie’s always followed politely, because it’s what he’s had to do. It’s what was expected of him. From the moment he was a boy till now as an adult. The outburst, the disobedience, that’s just never been allowed. So he obeys. 

But with Buck…

It’s odd, the way it feels so different. Not bad. Or scary. 

Entirely the opposite, actually.

There’s a warmth, an air that surrounds Buck and his dominance. His command is still assertive, yet caring in the same breath. Not because he’s getting some sick power trip off telling Eddie what to do. 

That’s not how this works. 

He draws in a slow careful breath, feeling the edges of his raging mind beginning to calm a bit more, the hazy feeling starting to steady itself. 

Eddie doesn’t follow because he has to. 

He follows because he wants to. 

There’s so much trust placed between every order and every action. Never drawing from the feeling of reckless control or wild sexual abandon.

Buck hums to himself. “Perfect. Now let it all go.” The words flow so easily. Eddie releases the breath he was holding, not missing the way the hands at his sides begging to rub small circles into his hips. “Slower,” Buck coos gently, and Eddie leans into the instruction as soon as it's given, slowing the exhale down a bit more. “Yeah, just like that.”

The praise lands like morning sunbeams peeking in between the blinds, a warmth Eddie basks in, the muscles of his shoulders, relaxing as they fall. “Good. That was amazing,” he assures.

Assurance.

A feeling Eddie didn’t know he was even seeking out until now. Until the words landed delicately to his ears and gently tugged at his strings closer and closer to the ground. Never letting him stray too far.

Buck doesn’t just do this to exude power or control, just to fuck Eddie and leave him be afterwards. No-

Buck…Buck cares.

afotalwcs taglist (lmk if youd like to be added to be tagged in future postings!) - @eddiebabygirldiaz @your-catfish-friend @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @artemis-the-sinister

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"You don't know my name, do you? Will you ever?"

Summery: beomgyu keeps his promises--he walks you from and sometimes to work, hangs out there with you. its all very comfortable and usual for the both of you. he even orders the same thing every time he comes in: your wonderful hot chocolate you make him. noting is new, its all been done before a thousand times between the two of you. why? you and Beomgyu have been friends for ever. that's great. You and him have also become a sort of... intertwined. more than just being together; youve grown together. also great. but what happens when you do something out of the ordinary? or rather, maybe the two of you stop keeping your promises and let the feelings youve pushed down so hard you feel like youre about to combust bubble up? also great.

a/n: long hair gyuuuuuu based on 'you don’t know my name'!!!!! its one of my favorite (if not my singular favorite) song by her. and besides... come on y'all, its beomgyu so I had to lol. yerin and I talked about this during he 300 subs special (even though SHE doesn't seem to remember it lmao) so here I am holding up my end of the deal and making my fic based on this song. if you liked it please leave some love such as commenting and or reblogging!

warnings/info: slow burn I guess, kissing, reader and Beomgyu go to a party, mentions of people fucking, Beomgyu gets in an extremely heated argument with a complete stranger at said party, I feel like I ranted a bit too much with the fic, a little poem-ish at times I think, reader and gyu are scared to go into uncharted territory with thier friendship, lots and lots and lots of talk of reader and beomgyu needing to control themselves around each other, cursing, beomgyu being sweet and them slow dancing cause that's a warning in itself, one joke about beomgyu and reader fucking? idk its not said explicitly tho this was way too self indulgent I apologize, friends to lovers, reader is gn.

~this is simply a piece of fiction. my imagination onto "paper." this is in now way meant to be taken as an actual or real representation of anyone~

••••••••••••••••••••••

A sharp, wind chime sounding ping makes you spring out of your thoughts to look at the door. Your smile. Huh right on the dot. Your eyes are met with the handsome fetures of your most frequent customer: beomgyu. Hair touching the nape of his neck and eyes bright as ever despite the mugginess outside. though its not all bad-- it makes him remember how one time last winter on your usual walk-from-your-work-with-him, he had stood behind you and wrapped you in his coat, bringing you flush with his clothed chest. it was oversized on him and noting, he thinks, could have prepared him for how you melted into him.

you noticed his wandering eyes and raise you voice to snap him out of it.

“why do you look like that?” you ask. it’s slow at work right now and you say that because you don’t want him to notice your heart pounding. You know if you don’t distract him he’ll do so. He pays enough attention and knows you all too well to hide it. “oh I dunno I just went for a run. No! It’s because it’s raining buckets out there!” “Yeah YOU running? That didn’t sound right” his mouth hangs open a little "um excuse you." he puffs his chest out. "I-I run." the way he's shaking his head while speaking gives him away if you already didn't know him so well. maybe a little too well. but, you tried not to think about that too much. how you

“I’ll have the hot chocolate” he says, although you know what would fall out of his lips just the Same as last time, and the time before that. And many roles before. You know how he likes it (extra sweet. “Just like you” he says. Before you squeeze you nose) but seriously you don’t think you’ve ever known someone who liked such a sugary thing. It nearly tasting like straight candy

“not many people order hot chocolate in the summer. You sure you want that?” “Yeah, it’s a comforting drink ya know.” Something he always used to drink as a kid. Before he met you. Before he didn’t have to watch what he said around someone like you because of half giddy and half eyes to the floor bashfulness he’ll feel if he slips up and gets a little too flirty. Says something a little too strong to you. Not that you’d mind. No, not at all. But he doesn’t need to know you feel that way.

"Yeah but with everything?" you ask, still making it but wondering anyways. He leans further in, putting his hands on the table. "How come you're just asking me this now? we've been doing this for such a long time and now is when it pops into your mind that it's weird to have it with breakfast, lunch, and dinner?" you roll your eyes at him. but really, you weren't annoyed at all. the truth was you awaited the never-the-same times he'd come in and order that same, warm and comforting drink. (it depend on his classes, and or what he had to do inbetween) It had gotten on the point where one of the other workers there would tap your shoulder and let you know that he was there when you didn't notice.

"your guy is here." one of the workers there would tell you. In a moment of weakness, beomgyu would pop into your mind and your eyes would go wide as you looked for him. "he's not my guy." you'd try and cover your tracks but with the knowing smile on your work friends face as they walked away, you knew it wasn't any use.

"we've been doing this forever." his words rung in your ears. he was right. you had been. you'd both been seeing each other so much and resisting the bubbling urge to kiss the shit out of each other. You'd been inching dangerously close to him, but never as close as you really wanted and craved, the warmth of his heart ghosting your skin... forever. he'd been avoiding your gaze-- the one that made him feel like all the four seasons were swirling up inside him and somehow all their wonder landing in you, seeping out in all the little things you did... forever. To be honestly, neither of you knew how long you could keep this up.

but here you are, thinking of and loving noting more than seeing his eyes fill with excitement as you hand him the mug. he cups it with both his hands even though it isn't cold inside so it wasn't like he needed to warm his hands. "You know, you should just keep your own mug here." you comment. he looks up at you, about to take a sip and obviously not very happy you interrupted his almost-bliss. though, in his mind, it wasn't that different-- no, it could not compare to the feeling he got around you. "Or maybe I should just bring one with me." he jokes, lips pursing to blow the steam off the surface of the delicious smelling drink. "Yeah," you nod, "and bring a plate while you're at it-- you know what," you lean on the counter in front of him, knuckles going under your chin and fingertips folded enough to touch the beginning of your palm. And he'd rather not look at you through the fog emanating from the porcelain mug so he puts it down, leaning in for dramatic effect. "Better yet, take it with you when you leave so I don't have to wash it!" you eyes go wide and you throw your hands up like you just had the best idea of the century-- better than sliced bread.

he puts a hand to his chest, leans back with his mouth hung wide open, and then gets up with his hands to his head pulling at his hair like he just had an epiphany. you laugh freely as he walks around in a circle. once he's back at the counter he slams his hands down on the edge of it and looks all serious. "You've got it, y/n! this is gonna make history!" he exclaims. You take a bow just for kicks and when you come back up his expression has suddenly changed. its gone much... softer, a smile is tugging at his lips and he can't help it but to let it free once he sees your smiling face again... smiling because of him, too. because of the joy you two make together. its unmatched, really. His fingertips feel flushed like his face, and aren't holding on so tightly to the cold metal edge of the counter. he's leaning in now, for what reason he doesn't really know. damn, he wants and fucking needs to be closer to you. he feels it in his core.

Then, he makes the mistake of looking into your eyes and in an instant you send him on a whirlwind. usually he distracts himself and looks at something else but he just couldn't bring himself to this time. He wants to set up an easel and capture your entire expression right here but your eyes... your eyes he's sure made his plan he's trying to stick to of not getting caught in your gaze. or, better yet, not getting caught gazing at you. but, for someone he knows so well and for so long, it wasn't easy. because, every time you speak, every time he looks at you, every time he even thinks of you, his mind starts to cloud with all the goodness he sees inside you. every inch of your mind he knows and all the other filled up spaced he wants to adventure into.

How could he stop his mind from getting tied up in the wonder of a human that was you? He sure couldn't, and nobody in their right mind would be able to. He snaps himself out of his thinking before you can think to do it yourself. Lord knows if you caught him spacing out at a time like this you'd give him one of your infamous smacks on the ears and he'd shriek so loud out of surprise people outside would hear him. "You're making me waste valuable time on drinking this." he chuckled, holding a finger up to you to signal: one minute, as he takes a few big gulps. he puts the cup down and leans back.

"one of your best, y/n." he complements.

you raise an eyebrow. "Oh? so there's a hierarchy and competition for best of y/ns hot chocolate now? if I would've known I would've made it look all cute." you said, getting back to work behind the counter. the place was pretty dead at the moment but there was still a few things needing tone done. "Come to think of it, I should deduct points for not putting a cinnamon heart on the surface." he wonders aloud. "Oh so just a heart would suffice? noting else?" you ask him. "well why not?" he nearly giggles, "Thought you loved me." You simply smile and roll your eyes at him, not really having the opurtunity to have any type of conversation like that here. although you wanted to. and it didn't really have to go the way you intended it. but if he-- or the both of you for that matter, were gonna go there, then you might as well and a full on sit down talk about it. again not that you didn't want to at all-- in fact, you'd thought about how it'd go down plenty more times then truly necessary. And what better place to have it in than where you two had met?

maybe it was just you making excuses for yourself; for putting it off just one more day. one more week. one more month. or basically one more eternity of longing stares and cut of sentences where, you wanna say more but ultimately fail to. the conversation now seemingly over, he shrugs and finishes his drink.

He stays and orders another extra extra sweet, practically caffeinated, slap you in the face to jolt you into operating at top speed crack drink that was his or your signature hot chocolate. this is a habit of his-- one he'd likely have to break soon if this floating feeling of his keeps up and un-in check. but a habit the both of you cherish-- where he comes in and stays until you have to leave. most of the time you don't even get to talk much. but the comfort that comes right along with your presence around each other makes up for it. thats another habit with the two of you: just being in the same room and doing different things. it was pure comfort just being around each other. maybe looking over and smiling at the other or striking up a conversation that could last a minute or the rest of time he was there or in other situations, the rest of time you'd were together-- however long you both wanted it, really. and it was never awkward, either. the silence never aching.

that's how it was when you first started walking back to your respective places after your shift. another habit of his, one you hope, along with the others, would never die. him staying for a while, talking a bit... or a lot with you, then walking together. usually it was him walking you home but others it'd just be whatever you two wanted that day. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his acid washed jeans when you look over at him.

"Did you grow or something?" you question.

"maybe you shrunk, hm?" he countered.

you narrowed your eyes at him. he turns to you and does the same. "Very adult of you." You scoff. "You started--" then, realizing that continuing to say was he was going to wasn't going to help his case in the slightest. It barely falls silent for a second before he, in a moment of either weakness or some extreme courage he doesnt know, he slows down a little, gently puts his hands onto your waist, finger finding place scrunched in your shirt, and stills you. though, with the rapid beating of your heart you didn't need any help to do so. He gently moves you to the inside of the sidewalk. he doesn't know why. it's kinda stupid really. he doesn't even have a reason expect that's how you two are usually walking. but it isn't ever really intentional. Usually he just gets out the door of the diner first and you follow soon after. but he liked it that way. it felt warm and comfortable.

he clears his throat. "So, you were saying?" you look back up at him, not too stunned to speak or anything just....thinking. time still in its frozen capsule like it was a moment ago with his hands on your waist. "I feel like you've grown." you say simply, verbally shrugging. he takes a look at his own arms as if that would give him an idea as to what you're talking about. "I know you haven't but," you sigh, unsure of where you're even going with this, "I dunno you seem different." the both of you are still facing forward, not having looked at each other since a minute ago. "Is that a good thing or a bed thing?" You smile. "good. definitely good." "that's good that it's good." he laughs.

"oh piss off!" You chuckle at him, shaking you head. a second later you don't hear his steps anymore and turn around to see him saying "gladly." and start to walk in the other direction. You yell at him to get his ass back here and he turns on his heel, trotting back to you with a smile on his face, eyes hidden by his hair as he looks down. "But yeah," you say once he's back to walking beside you, "You've defiantly grown. not in height, but how you are as a person now." he hums. "I guess I can see that. you have too, you know?" you quirk and eyebrow.

"like--" he takes a breath, "You've grown... not like you act completely different now, but you've just--" you get what he's trying to say. "Blossomed?" He nods, but before he can start talking again you're already opening your mouth. "So have you. Not like you weren't someone I wanted to spend a lot of time with when were first met but you've grown into this person who-who has so much depth to them. like sure, you look a little different and youve changed your hair countless times, but I think you've bloomed in a way. And I love that you have; that you've made yourself out to be who you are right now." he purses his lips together.

"hey, it's not all me, ya know? Ive only been able to grow the way you said I have because I've got you by my side. actually, no, more than that, I've got you coaching me and trying to help. And have you taken a look In the mirror? its not just me that's grown internally since we've both met. I feel like... You're more you know than you were before. or at least not as afraid to show who you are." "that's cause I have you cheering me on, beom." he smiles at the nickname, something you've had for him forever. just like how you've been learning each other inside and out forever. But he also smiles at himself. he was your personal hype man, as you'd say, wasn't he? "And im really proud of you for flourishing like you have." he says. "Im proud of us." you counter, "for both becoming more than we were before."

all that was missing was two glasses to toast. "Yeah, and we're achieving that together, too. we have been forever. and I know that's why its unfolding so beautifully-- it takes the two of us to pull something so great off like that." you try not to get all fluttery inside by the prospect of him thinking that you're "great." cause there isn't much to it, really. plain and simple. he thinks you're great... or the journey youve taken with him so far is great or whatever... it should stop there for you. but that's the thing: with him, it never does.

It kinda hits the both of you right in the face at that moment. and you realize all you need to know about how the other person feels the same way when your caught looking at each other and saying more or less the same thing of: "wow, I think our lives are intwined now and I love that."

as the minutes go on, you both talk about some of the ways youve seen this with each other-- growing internally as youve both said. You bring up something, then him, it goes on like this until you both have a realization. "...But seriously, though." you cause, "Im glad that we're like this." "Im happy we can be like this too. and to be honest, I don't just want to be a better person, I wanna be a better person with you." he quickly cocks his head to the side, almost like he was punctuating his sentence. "I was just about to say that! I like growing with you. it's amazing. and you make me want to be better. not in a competitive way though. I just wanna move along with life with you next to me."

He puts a hand to his chest, hopping it would distract him from how fast his heart was beating. It had the opposite affect, though, drawing his attention to it under his palm. "Im glad youve been in my life for so long." he says, wondering jut how far he was going to take all this confessing how wonderful it was to have you by his side. wouldn't this make more of an impact on he both of you than just making you smile? or was he making it more than it was? he probably was to be honest; friends tell each other how much they value each other all the time. just... probably the ones who's heart feels like its about to lift him up and fly him away to the moon, stay away from it.

"And I am glad we're in each others lives to often that we can brighten each others days whenever the other needs it." he nods in agreement, not trusting himself to talk more because he'll surely say all that he thinks of you... and us. the rest of the walk is spent back in the comfortable, fireplace like silence like the first couple minutes of it. Once you get to your front door and your back is turned, he draws in a breath. "It is wonderful to have you in my life, y/n. I don't think you can understand how great it is and how much I love it." you're about to swing open your door but you turn around to look in the eye. "Me too. I love how it feels to have you by my side." you really wish you had something more to say but it seems like its enough for him. cause a second later and he's nearly skipping away from your door. You shake you head at him and go inside.

He scratches the back of his neck, thinking entirely too much about what you had said to him. There was a thousand ways you could have meant hit but for some reason he only wanted to think of it as one. the one where you actually secretly wanted to kiss him every time you hugged goodbye. One where you'd invite him into your place for hot chocolate and he'd stay, and long, long while; only really going back to his home for clothes cause fuck, if he had you like that he wouldn't dream of letting you go or leaving you for as long as he could.

God, It was almost uncanny how, you knew what to call him, but his name? that was something else entirely it felt like now.HIs own name had come to be you. that was how much you were written on his heart; written like law on stone. so engraved in his mind that he felt like you were with him all his life... except with this it was more like someone who knew him his entire life but suddenly stoped paying attention for a very important mile marker, then suddenly started up paying attention again, completely glossing over something that was so important to him. Like his name: but now youve replaced it with your own an the wasn't mad about it. and you didn't know, did you? would you ever know his name?

and, in the middle of all his swirling like a hurricane that brought peace instead of distruction, he wondered if you were ever feeling the same thing. did you think of him the way he thought of you?

He knew everything about you, as did you, he, you thought as you slipped off your shoes at the door. But you figured that, since friends need to be honest as much as they can, that wasn't entirely true. cute there was this one, not so small thing youve never shared with him. something that was such a big part of you it might as well be your name. The way you felt when he was near, when you thought of him, fuck, even when someone mentioned him. at this point, him-- and feeling this was about him was such a bug thing that it had become a part of you. he had become a part of you. and just like a name it was something you wanted and needed to tell the whole world. including him.

but there was the problem, you couldn't just scream it out for everyone to hear. that's why youve been waiting. Even though it was takin g a long time for him to figure out that big giant part of you that thad become as second nature as a name. Beomgyu was smart, but apparently he was stupid when it came to this. but seriously, with all the slip ups youve been having recently, you're starting to wonder if he's deliberately not understanding you and your feelings. Like is he that dense or does he just not want you?

You shoot him a message none the less; telling him to text when he got home unless you'll start to worry.

===

The next time you talk was on the phone on your way to work. He likes to walk you there, too. but today just happened to be one of those days where it couldn't happen. But you missed his presence on the street that reminded you of the talk you had yesterday so the next best thing was to call him. "Hey, it's the server from the diner." You say. "yeah, I know." It was a throwback to when he'd given his number to the place so he could get a free delivery. Though he was hoping you'd pick up on it and call him. and you did. you were the one who had to call to let him know his order had arrived and was currently getting cold outside his door. you had ended the call with him apologizing profusely.

One thing lead to another and you made a follow up call on how the food tasted. you heard him smiling from the other end of the phone as he says, "great as always." You barely thought he would even pick up so you didn't know what to say after that. "especially the hot chocolate." he aded then. And now you're the one smiling uncontrollably. After a few minutes on the phone that day your heart is leaping with excitement. so the next time he comes in, you talk with each other more freely. and now you had his number so when he doesn't come in for a few days you remembered mustering up the courage to text him. "I really wanted to come over there. hot chocolate would probably help cure whatever I have." you felt stupid. duh of course he was just sick, why were you so worried?

within the hour, hot chocolate was delivered to his door free of cost.

and that's when the friendship began; with him texting you an entire paragraph just to say thanks for the gesture and you two talking back and forth, heart seemingly on the edge of its seat, about hot chocolate and hot drinks in general.

"You know... our manager is always telling us to use water," you repeat now what you said all that time ago, "But I always use milk and cream for you." He's snapped back to the present, with you on the other end of the phone, wind whipping in the mic. "aww you really do care, don't cha?" he laughs, smug smile gracing his lips.he can practically hear you roll your eyes from the other end of the phone. "your welcome." you drawled. "I sincerely thank you for your sacrifice of cream and milk." he said, and it sounds like a joke, but still he's smiling in gratitude none the less. youre about to joke about how he needs to repay you... somehow. but he beats you to it. though... with the way he starts off, it doesn't sound like fully a joke. but just enough of one where he knows you'll listen.

"And as a formal expression of my forever debt to you, I invite you to attend a party with me." You figured you'd play along, his tone not serious enough for you to spend the brain power to actually think of an answer. "yeah, sure, Beom." It was about as real to you as the both of you staying completely quiet during a movie so you played along. at least, you thought you were playing. beomgyu puts his speaker of his phone up to his mouth, nearly making your ears bleed as he yells into it: "no take backs!" then promptly hangs up.

you roll your eyes at him, a little concerned for future you and him but cracking up none the less. The surprised expression on your face when he comes by later to quote "take the both of you shopping for the party the next day." was so priceless he wished he had whipped out his phone quick enough. "I keep my promises." he reminds you as he sits down at his usual bar stool. And he sure does, like the one he's been keeping, weighing on his heart for so long he feels like its going to crack it n a million pieces impossible to pick up, about just how much he feels for you. he made that promise to you to stick by you as friends for as long as you'd have him there long enough to be forgotten. but now him. he remembers it like it was yesterday and he intends to keep his word, especially to you. who knows which way it would take you if he didn't. and the last thing he needs is for you two to be torn apart.

he slumps on the counter and gives you puppy dog eyes. you sigh "No one told me you were serious. that was coercion; I did not understand the phrasing of the question, therefore--" oh, you wanted court of law? he'd give you court of law. "uh uh" he wriggles his finger in your face. "was this under a false pretense? maybe. but did that initially give you the right to call back and or ask further questions? yes. so for that reason youre guilty!" he slams an imaginary gavel down on the white counter. you turn around to take a breath. he kicks his feat. "come on, y/n! I think it'll be fun. and if not then we'll leave right away and go to my place to watch tv. and we'll get a cute outfit out of it either way!" you think about it for a moment. "I need deodorant anyways!"

well it is important not to have a stench.....

he can tell youre thinking about it and he perks up at the sight of your wheels turning behind your eyes. it was one of this favorite things-- watching you think, weigh your options and all. It wasn't like you completely didn't want to go. there was a part of you, one that was soon going to get bigger youre sure. but a part of you right now none the less. so what was stopping you? you wanted to be close to him. you loved being close to him and that meant doing things together. but in an environment like this.... it might pose a problem to lips kept tightly shut and secrets you held behind your back.

You take one last look at him, and if it's a regular response between friends or in a slip up you don't know, but you agree. he nearly jumps up out of his seat in celebration. Why did he suggest this? who knows. was this a good idea? who. the fuck. knows. maybe because he wanted to do something with you. but it was probably something more than that it the back of his mind that made him call you and ask. but he knows full well what almost happened the last time you two went to a party together. a bunch of "aww youre so cute together!" made it seem all a little too real after a while and as the night went on with him eventually stopping himself from telling the truth to these people and him getting seemingly eaten from the inside when he stopped just reviling in the fantasy and remembered that no, youre not together. The night ended somehow with you two coming dangerously close to kissing.

maybe he really just wanted to spend time with you; a sort of do-over. he could control himself this time. or maybe that's what it was... he wanted to test the waters again-- challenge himself and see if he really could have self control. or maybe, just maybe, in the back of his mind he wanted to test the waters another way. maybe he wanted to know if it'd happen again. of course he wouldn't do anything about it; he wanted to keep his promise to you but something felt like it was knocking at the back of his mind.

once your shift is done, he's got a spring in his step as he opens the door for the both of you and bouncing on his heels with a smile on his face telling you to hurry up. and no, you don't just go shopping for deodorant... but instead spend two full hours shopping around. two full hours that consisted of trying on clothes and the both of you having to bite your tongues. because fucking hell, why'd he have to have such a good style? you perk up as he steps out the dressing room for the third time, already preparing yourself for you heart seemingly about to beat out of your chest. "what do you think?" "I think..." his face sinks.... "oh--" he pouts, "no no! it looks great! its just, its white."

he quirks and eyebrow at you. "I have eyes, ya know? I did pick it out." he reminds you, nose and mouth scrunching up in that classic Beomgyu disgusted face. "spillage." you simply say. his eyebrows got up into his hairline. "youre right." the next out fit he comes out with, a little more spillage proof, is what he decides on. he takes another look in the mirror, sighing. "you really think it looks good?" he questions. "I have eyes, ya know?" you echo him. he spins around into the dressing room, away from you as quickly as possible so you didn't have to see the smile on his face and the rosy tint to his cheeks.

When it comes to you and picking out your outfits, while youre walking ahead of him to the dressing rooms, he closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall so he can think for a moment. or... more stop himself form thinking so much than anything. he knows what he's getting himself into. but How you reacted each time he'd first appear out the dressing rooms door with that wistful glassy look in your eyes, almost like you yourself were trying to stop your gears turning.... Times like that gave him hope that maybe yeah, you felt the same way about him as he did you. because just for a short moment he saw the same look in his eyes that they had on him now; trying so hard to stop thinking about you. you, you, you, you.

"I think a round of applause is in order!" you say.-- twenty minutes in. twenty minutes of him bouncing his leg. twenty minutes of you hiding the way his complements make you feel. twenty minutes of the second you shut the door behind you him screaming internally into his palms and twenty minutes of you doing the same. he smiles at you when you come out. "I know. we have good taste." his cheeks seem to be nearly kissing at his lashes as he smiles and he's driving you crazy. "We do, don't we?" you take another look in the mirror.

"You really think it's--" Youre starting to stress over if the outfit really is worth the buy. you like it a lot. but now youre starting to wonder if its a little too little here or too much there and-- "I have eyes, don't I?" he repeats, you turn around and lock eyes with him for just a second too long not to do anything to the both of your heart rates.

===

fast forward to the next night and youre swinging your door open to see him turned the other way. he spins around as soon as he hears the door. You press your lips together and he unconsciously mimics you. "you look really beautiful!" he beams. he's just being your personal hype man as always, and youre not afraid to say that you love it. "Aw you look really beautiful too."

the words slipped past both of your lips like water through fingers. though, unlike water, the words were thick, with feelings long left in the dark hiding behind them. "Oh? so just beautiful? not really--" You step out toward him, closing the door behind you, making you step just a little bit too close to him than usual. "really really beautiful." you clarified. and this time, he doesn't move his head. "thank you." he whispers, voice softer than his hair. and the both of you are unable to move from your doorstep-- frozen in time and space, with the only thing moving being your rapid heart beats and rising chests.

====

he looks at you beside him and can feel your gears turning inside your head, a sight he so badly wants to get lost in but knows he can't. realizing it'd be bad enough with the gorgeous outfit you were wearing and how he was sure at least someone was going to try and hit on you... he'd rather not start getting himself tangled with you now. but he can't seem to move his neck any other way than craned to his left to look at you.

its was just.... as much as he wants an needs to kiss you so badly.... your so Important to him, he thinks as he lags behind a bit, watching you walk ahead. and your friendship is so important to him that they never want to break it, even if that meant shutting his mouth and staying further away, cause in the end that's really what he wanted: to be and stay friends with you. the reason he stayed never has been and never will be just about what he felt for you. your friendship will always be the most important thing to him and heeds never want to jeopardize that and loose you. he'd rather your friendship stay strong than anything.

Your turn around, beckoning him to come closer. he skips to you, so happy you don't know what to do with yourself. "You know--" "no, I don't. I was hoping you'd tell me." you scoff. "I was going to say that im glad you invited me. Im ready to go be extroverts together now and experience all the bad smells and all the loud noises a party has to offer." he laughs, but he knows youre half serious. and he's fully serious when he says he's happy you came.

====

the noise thumps in your ears, nearing making them ring. the lights are dimmer than you thought needed but it-- along with noise and people constantly bumping into each other, sufficed in making the atmosphere very party-like. cause well, it was a party after all. He follows you, both trying to scout out where the kitchen was. you'd planned to stick together, tighter than you did last time, tighter than when the both of you were bombarded with people asking you about each other, and stick together you did.

even when you two went upstairs, trying to find the bathroom, and stumbled upon a couple people fucking and practically biting each others faces off in the room you thought was the bathroom. Beomgyu shuts the door immediately, any longer and you'd both be traumatized. "get your own room!" you hear from behind the heavy door." He looks at you and you back at him before bursting into laughter. "I mean, did you want to orrrr?" you phrase it as a joke, and though he thinks he hears something in the back of your tone, he only rolls his eyes at you. though his brows go up higher than youve ever seen.

The second he's done in the bathroom you lead in downstairs to where the music was the loudest. "I heard it too." he pants, "I was trying to hurry up." you really couldn't believe they were playing this here. it was almost too perfect, you thought. with his body so close to yours, dancing and enjoying the song you both liked. And suddenly, it didn't feel like you were in a crowded room. and for a moment all you could see, and feel, and smell, was him. him and his fingers now reaching for yours, spinning you around, laughing without a care in the world. like it didnt matter that your heart was about to beat out of your chest, making you float on the floor you were dancing on.

Everyone else-- the entire room was blurred. It was just you, and him. him, and you. just as it should be. this didn't happen all the time-- rather, you didn't let it happen all the time. but when it did... you swore youve never felt anything so natural. so--so right and beautiful. You smile and ease him into a dip, now youre both laughing. when he comes up, somehow both his hands ended up in yours and now he's pulled flush against your body. he feels like you both are taking up so much and too little space at the same time--like the whole floor is yours and yours only. he swallows thickly, neither of you making a move to step away. you know it sounds stupid but for a second you can feel as life your hearts are beating as one. and for a seance he feels like maybe this is really real. that it won't end any second and that he isn't having another day dream about slow dancing with you in one of your living rooms; all comfy and--

"I have to go get some water." you say so low that only he hears over the music. you really shouldnt let it goony further than this. at least not here. and as much as you wanted to keep ignoring everyone around you cause with him, were they even there in the first place? you knew you shouldn't, couldn't keep it up for much longer cause being this close to him only made you wanna kiss the shit out of him. "y-youre not--" you look at the next to no gap between you still, hands still closes around each others tightly. you blink to free yourself from the perfect daze youre caught in. the song was barely even slow enough to slow dance to. what you you doing? "moving? I know." and before he could even ask if you to stay longer, youre already pushing yourself off his chest and out of his grasp.

"You sure you don't want me to just go with you?" he nearly stumbles after you. "beom, its just for a second." You whip around to face him, arms crossed defensibly. "but a lot can happen in a second." yeah, I can see that, you say to yourself, thinking about just a moment before where dancing to a song you both liked turned quickly into something that was going to make you stumble. beom, the name echoed in his mind over and over until it flowed into his heart where all the other times youve laughed or called him by that nickname laid. "listen I know youre just trying to uphold our agreement, but seriously, im fine."

he knows he's probably being too worried for you, but he just can't. epically after you'd done that. with your hands clasping his against his chest. god, he never wanted it to end. little did he know neither did you. you did actually need water, being so close to him like that had a track record of making your throat go dry and fingers go numb. it also had a track record of making you get lost in his glazed over eyes. you find a cup and rinse in out before anything cause who knew where its been. a moment later youre about to refill your cup when you hear the unmistakable sound of Beomgyus shriek. followed by someone yelling at him.

oh god what did he get himself into now?

You run to where you last saw him and, finding him not there you rush to where you saw a few people gathered by the stairs. those people who were now making way for beomgyu flying down them. someone hot with anger and hot on his tale. Your brows furrowed as he zooms past you. "im sorry!" you hear him say, "I probably shouldn't have gotten involved but it looked like a pretty heated argument!" oh god? that was what this was about? "Yah!" the person yells behind him. "that's why you shouldve stayed out of it!" then and Beomgyu are both on opposite ends of the sofa, both waiting for the other to make a move. when the person inches right, beomgyu tips to the left. when beomgyu goes the other way, the person follows his movements.

two of the three people move off the sofa to get out the way. god, he really was fucked, wasn't he? you didn't know what to do, really. you left for five minutes and here he was getting screamed profanities at by some random person. You wanted to help, but as beomgyu brings up to the person how the person they were talking with looked hurt, and how they themself looked hurt as well, you leaned against the door frame and just watched.

it was another one of these situations, huh? they didn't look mad enough to really do much of a number on him anyways, and youd step in to stop them any minute now if beomgyu doesn't leave the argument first. And step in a minute later after beomgyu and the person going back and forth tore you apart from the inside out to one, see him so worried like this, and two, hearing them yell next to you with the loud ass music was starting to make your ears bleed you didn't need to do after all. Beomgyu was backing up with his hands in front of him defensively. it didn't feel like you needed to collect him or keep him out of trouble or anything cause he was intentionally trying to start a fight, but you could tell no one was going to get anywhere with this. or at least beomgyu wasn't going to get what he was looking for from the person. So you figured it best to tell it that you two should leave. you grab him by the shoulders and lead him out the door. you were kinda done with the party anyways, having been there quite enough time already.

"im sorry! I ruined our night, didn't I?" he begs. "but they were saying some pretty shitty things about someone and it looked like it was about to turn physical." he practically pleads with you as the night air nips at whatever wasn't covered on you. you stay silent the whole way back to you place. "What have I told you?" you tell more than ask sternly once he's plopped down on his sofa. he hands his head low. "Not to get in the middle of other peoples problems..." he echoes what you say every time something like this happens-- he thinks he can be be everyones knight In shinning armor, protecter and helper to all by getting himself involved. it usually doesn't have such... strong repercussions. most of the time its when he hers whispers of someone talking about their troubles with someone else and he tries to console them. which is fine on its own, but then comes the part where he's getting all caught up in it and he's getting hurt along with them.

and as much as you are shaking your head and rolling your eyes at the situation he got himself into... you purse your lips and try not to catch his eyes from across the sofa. you lean back. "But im not surprised. And it's not because you never learn or that youre stupid or anything, ok? so don't even go there. but that's just who you are, how youve always been since I met you-- caring so much for people, even people you don't know that you'll end up like this trying to help them sometimes. that's one of the things about you that haven't changed one bit since I've met you." he inches closer as if you hear you better, legs folded criss cross on the cushions and hands on his knees.

"don't make me out to be such a hero." he shakes his head. and this time you move a little closer. "Not saying you are just," you pause, knowing what you want to say but wondering if this really was the right time for it. It felt right in your bones and besides when were you going to get another chance like this one? when just a bit ago his hands fit perfectly in yours and you could feel his raging heartbeat under your palms? It was now or never, right? but really, you werent too sure you'd be able to stop yourself now. you might've been in too deep, but with him, never over your head. "just, youre the kindest person ive ever met. n' I just worry you'll get hurt more than youve already gotten in the past-- like youve gotten in the past when you get invested like this."

youre breathing all heavy for some reason, and he's getting that same glassy look in his eyes as earlier in the night. it reminds you of a sugar honey glaze on sweet fruit or a dessert and you can't help but stare int them. "glad to see you care." he shrugs. only his lips move thankfully just in your field of vision, eyes staying locked on yours. "I thought you knew I did. he's unconsciously leaning forward to you, his body following the magnetic pull that was you. though he's only following what seemed natural. "Thought you knew that I did?" you put your face in your palm, elbow balanced on your knee. "Yeah, but..." he trails off, the both of you now impossibly close.

and closer, and closer, and closer until your lips join in a searing kiss. you both sigh in relief into it, having waited so, so long. now your heart was really beating out of your chest, your fingertips no longer numb but boiling with feeling. his hands go from his knees to your hands, grasping them firmly, but gently just like you did to him at the party. he felt like he was floating, like he was suddenly sitting on a cloud and wasn't afraid of falling. god, he's wanted this for so long; for fucking ever. how could he stop now? you pull apart, and now youre thinking how in the world you felt out this long. ".... now the way I want you to." he continues, "not the way I do." you smile, leaning in again to kiss him. it was meant to be a quick peck, but instead it turned into you leaning your body into his and his hands on your arms, running up and down them, making you sink further into him and the seat in warmth.

Now, for a second time, you pull away. "Does that help answering how much I care?" he's smiling like a mad man at your words. "so I guess I didn't ruin our night?" he says, more to get his Brian working properly more than anything. "The opposite. I wanted to leave with you anyways." and now he's nearly jumping out of his seat to to do a little happy dance. he couldnt help it, though. especially when you were pulling him back in by his shirt balls dup in your fist and smashing your lips together.

when you pull apart though, instead of smiling in each others faces, the both of you shoot up. oh god... oh god! what did you just do? it wasn't suppose to go like this, he thinks as you rush to put your shoes on at the door. No words were exchanged between the two of you, though. except: "Hey... I--" "no no!" you say a little too loudly, "no, its fine. we don't ever need to speak of this again, sound good?" his lips form a line at your words. he shoots you a thumbs up. "...yeah." it wasn't what he wanted, that's of for user. but what other choice did he have? didn't look like you were ready for it to happen, so my default, now he wasn't either.

it wasn't like you two avoided each other at all costs in the week after the incident. no, not at all. you were friends above anything and everything, and such close friends that being like that to each other would've killed the both of you. and it wasnt like you were mad at each other... but now the silence on your walks together felt.... uncomfortable; unnatural and weird. like you needed to fill it with pointless talking to distract you from how there was this... air in the midst of you two-- like you knew what the other wanted, craved and needed but were too scared to do something about it.

that's why he knew he had to do something about it. so here he was, barging into the diner you worked past closing time. You quickly run to the door to unlock it for him. not like you were doing anything better anyways, watching the raindrops slide down one of the many windows as you wiped down each table. he was later than he usually was, but it looked like he was here for more than just to pick you up. the look in his eyes said it all. You turn around as soon as you pull the door open for him. "we're closed, Beom." the nickname slipped off your tongue so easily it was like you had forgotten the incident the week before, and how you promised yourself you'd back away even more than you had to keep it from happening again.

it wasn't like you didnt want it to. god was it the opposite. it was just... new, and scary. you knew that wasn't the best excuse but it was all you had. he was, in a way all you had. You didn't really know what moving along that road would mean. you knew it'd be good. but again, it was new and scary.

"I can't loose you." he pants behind you. for once he it was raining and for once he did run here. he spreads his arms wide, his long hair dripping on his shoulders. "And I can't-- I can't believe we let this come between us. and I don't want to let the wedge be driven any further." when you still don't respond, back still turned he gets more desperate, running a worried hand through his hair. "Come on, y/n! we're best friends!" you slam your towel down on the counter. "yeah, well maybe that's why this should've never fuckin happened." your words make the room go silent. you didn't yell it, you didnt exclaim it, you basically whispered it, but it boomed like a bomb going off none the less.

he was too important-- your relationship, whatever it may be, was too important to let go; you knew that. he knew that. he didnt say a word, realizing that he might say something to make the situation worse. he knew he was staying after hours, then again, it reminded him of how it would be between the two of you a week ago when you'd still talk the same. he'd come in, you'd make him the best hot chocolate he'd ever tasted next to his moms, and then he'd sit at the same bar stool and you'd talk for hours, barely making a move to actually go home. but eventually, after helping you with cleaning, he'd walk you home.

but for watts its worth, neither of you wanted to go back to those times, even after everything quite liking how the experience of the incident felt. You invite him to go to your place to talk it out some more. having the same idea, he agrees readily.

"I haven't been completely honest with you." you say, youve been talking for a little over a hour now, somehow slipping into how it was about a week ago along the way back to your place, and you don't think youve felt something so good-- so reliving, in a very long time. "I haven't been telling the whole truth either." no other words are uttered between the two of you, opting to lean ever so frustratingly and tantalizingly slow into each other,. his hand coming to rest on your thigh, folded underneath you at the knee on his sofa. you place your hand on top of his has your lips connect, a long awaited satisfied sigh is breathed into each others face, the air tickling you. youre rubbing circles on the back of his hand as his mind races. it was a kiss you poured all your feelings into. one where you spilled into it how you needed him with you so so so bad. how you wanted him beside you even more than he already was. how you were sorry it took you so long, and how you couldn't wait to keep being beside each other. you could feel him pour all that and more into his side of it and you reviled in the feeling, settling into it like it was second nature.

you blink a couple times when you pull apart, glad that you took your talk someplace else now. and well, I guess the both of you know now. youve now pulled out of the dark that beautiful little thing you two were hiding.

Now you both know just that one more, not so little thing you needed-- what was on each of your hearts the most.

~end~

Can’t believe never written a solely beomgyu fic before anyways as I’ve said if you liked it please comment and or reblog since tumble works on that system and liking it only bookmarks it for you :) I hope you enjoyed!!!

©️2023copyrightofshutupheathersorryheatherr do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works even if you give me credit

taglist: @itz-yerin

[they-hermes]

brace yourselves im gonna write vortex characterisation that doesn't revolve around being a sadomascho or just crazy

TLDR: Vortex is good at his job and a troll

aside from being a professional torturer, hes also a mercenary in his own right, and hes got this weird sense of professionalism. hes very meticulous about his job and doing his job right in order to get the intended result of information, even if it drips into self indulgence because he likes his job so much. he finds out every little detail about a target before interacting with them, he has a detailed contract for what he will and wont do, he takes care of his weapons, all very dedicated aspects to his job. physical torture famously isnt a very effective way of retrieving information, neither is shaking around people in your helicopter mode and letting them drop to the ground, so he gets creative with his ways of interrogation. he keeps his charms and quirks, and is very eccentric and proud of his capabilities and qualifications.

His job as an interrogator makes him incredibly socially aware and can read people like a book, so hes goes out of his way to annoy and piss people off. Hes incredibly frustrating to communicate with, and can easily turn a conversation on its head to where whoever he's talking to drops their guard and tells him exactly what he wants. He seems like hes spewing nonsense, and he is, but its 90% very calculated; the other 10% is just vortex being vortex. I also have this hc he learned mnemosurgery for his job. In terms of moral code, he gets pissed off at bad business practices and not being payed lmao

For combiners, there must be something that connects the components in terms of personality or values to become a combiner, and i like to think for the combaticons its a sense of egotistical pride in carrying out their jobs in a serious professional manner, even if said jobs are terribly unethical. the most obvious is Swindle since hes actually a saleman, but the entire team is under a chain of command that exists outside of the main decepticon army. In fact, their confidence in their profession allows their eccentricities to shine.

Of course, this makes Vortex (and the others) extremely stubborn and unwilling to admit his faults or failures, and his love for trolling makes it hard for him to admit any sincere feelings he has.

[qwainte]

My little post about Astarion fans trashing Wyll attracted an extremely strange and troubling anon ranting about Ascendant Astarion despite my post never mentioning AA once, so I want to make my stance on AA clear as this isn't the first time someone in my inbox accused me of being a fandom "puritan":

I do legitimately like Ascendant Astarion. I typically go for the spawn ending as I usually play "good" characters but I definitely understand AA's charm and I'm not immune to it. I think both endings are satisfying conclusions to his character arc, albeit for different reasons. AA makes for a really good corruption arc that doesn't feel forced or OOC.

Fandom content should never be obligated to appeal to canon, so writing content where AA is "nice" and not purely evil doesn't bother me one bit. And while I sometimes make fun of mods that make AA more friendly, I don't actually hate them at all. Fan content is supposed to be self-indulgent, source material be damned.

What I do have a problem with is when fans think that their warped interpretation of a character and their story should be acknowledged by the official creator(s) and catered to.

I'm not talking about disagreeing with or critiquing the quality of a story/character. I'm talking about fans who fundamentally refuse to engage with a work of art within its framework and expect creatives to prioritize fanservice over crafting a story or experience. It makes zero sense story wise for the writers of BG3 to portray Astarion's ascension as a "neutral" or "good" choice. The "cycle of abuse" isn't some crackpot theory spawn stans came up with, it's a legit motif that is present in Astarion's story. You don't have to like it, but at least acknowledge that it's there and respect the writers' decision to tell this particular story and not your own.

To make things even clearer:

I do not care if astaristan101xoxo wants to write fluffy headcanons about AA

I do not care if astaristan101xoxo writes a 100k story where AA is basically Vlad Tepes Dracula in Faerûn.

I do not care if astaristan101xoxo doesn't t like the moral dilemma of the ritual decision.

I do not care if astaristan101xoxo likes the Ascension ending.

I do care if astaristan101xoxo inserts themselves into discussions and healthy discourse about Astarion and derails them by focusing on their personal feelings and attachment to him and completely ignoring story and framing.

I do care if astaristan101xoxo obnoxiously comments "Its not that deep, lmao" on posts where the OP is trying to honestly engage with Astarion's story.

I do care if astaristan101xoxo makes 30+ posts on Larian forums demanding that AA receives a full rewrite that radically changes the entire theming of his character arc to better replicate a generic power fantasy with no in-text moral implications and acts like they are a persecuted minority when they discover that the majority of the fanbase does not share this view.

I do care if astaristan101xoxo waxes lyrically about Larian "removing player choice" and "bad DMing" because their PC frowns while being choked and degraded by Astarion but IMMEDIATELY shuts up about all this once they change the PC's expression to be smiling in patch 7.

Inb4 someone claims I'm "policing" completely harmless behaviors: I'm not policing anyone. You can do and say whatever you want as long as you aren't hurting anybody, just like I'm allowed to find your specific behaviors really annoying and unpleasant.

[clownery-and-fuckery]

Extremely short little piece for you all based on one of my TechPhee headcannons!!! :D this was both self-indulgent and also a break from writing angst constantly lmao

Hope you enjoy <3!!

"Tired?"

Tech blinked, jolting up from where he was leaned forward. He looked around, eyes landing on Phee, who watched him earnestly.

"You're falling asleep," She commented, voice low. "If you're tired, we can go."

Tech blinked again, slow, and took in his surroundings. Hunter was serving Crosshair another platter, Tech swore it was at least his third. Wrecker and Omega were talking, though they looked as tired as Tech felt. Echo was leaned back, sighing contently as he listened to the bustle of the table. The chatter around him fuzzed out as he turned back to Phee.

"I can manage." He lied, resisting the urge to rub at his eyes until they stopped stinging. Phee tilted her head, a knowing smile. "Right," She nodded. "No shame in calling it quits."

"I don't need to." Tech winced when a familiar, almost childlike insistence that crept its way into his tone. A habit that only rarely came up. When he was tired. Phee nodded again, her smile only growing.

She tugged him closer, fingers wrapped loosely around his belt. "Well," She quipped, urging him to lean closer. "My shoulder's cold. Mind warming it up?"

Tech, despite his confusion, agreed and went to rub the warmth from his palms into her shoulder. She stopped him, and wrapped her free hand around his neck, guiding him to rest against her shoulder, head leaned against it.

Tech almost complained. The warmth that blossomed upon contact gave him pause, and he melted, sighing contently with his face pressed into his neck.

"Comfy?" Phee's voice rumbled as she chuckled from above, though Tech felt her swallowed thickly as he peppered kisses along her neck, a silent thank you. "Don't leave me too hot, now." She warned, but wouldn't let him pull away.

Tech hummed. The once overwhelming sounds of conversations faded as he relaxed into Phee. She was whispering to him, sweet words meant only for them, and he let his eyes drift shut. Phee smiled, hearing his soft exhale as he fell asleep.

Phee shared a look with Hunter, who glanced at Tech, then gave her a nod of approval.

They continued like that for maybe an hour, before Omega and Crosshair had joined Tech in sleep. It was a joint effort, moving them without disruption. Wrecker's hold was careful as he moved.

Phee turned away, having safely tucked Tech into their mostly shared bed, and paused when she felt a hand clasping her wrist. She turned, seeing Tech watch her, eyes half shut.

Phee went to comfort him, to ease him back to his slumber, when he spoke in a mumbled whisper, confused and drowsy.

"You're not staying?"

Phee found her heart stuttering at the innocence behind the question. "I can," Phee assured, quickly clamblering into the bed. "Move over."

It barely fit Tech, but she didn't mind the squish. Tech easily curled himself into her, turning his face to rest in the crook of her neck, like he belonged there. Phee reckoned he did.

Easily and happily, she snaked her arms around him, pulling him closer. Tech mumbled, voice heavy with sleep and his touch gentle as he drifted back off, sighing contently.

Phee watched him, a wide smile on her face she couldn't shake. She traced the features of his now resting face, admiring the way his nose scrunched and his hair ruffled.

"You've got me all soft, Brown Eyes." Phee whispered, pressing her lips to his eyelids. "You better stick around."

"Course.." Tech's sleep-filled whisper replied, turning to breathe strings of rapidly fading consciousness to her. Phee laughed, nodding along with him until he was incoherent. "Adorable." She whispered, tone fond.

Phee lost track of time, slipping off herself. All she knew were the comforts of Tech's steady presence, warm and solid as they slept soundly, away from their troubles.

[mysticbeaver]

randomly asking cuz im curious lmao but what kind of music are you into? what are your favorite artists and songs? from what i've seen you're mostly into classic rock, right? (which btw the classic rock to eene pipeline is really funny and quite fascinating but that's another story.)

Oh I'm glad you asked!!! Boy now I can go on a rant 😁

Ok, I'm one of those folks who have a hard time explaining what kind of music I listen to... classic rock was definitely my upbringing since I was a child - like the Who, Led Zep, AC/DC (I feel slightly embarassed by that nowadays, sorry AC/DC fans 😅 good memories tho).

As a teen I started going into 70s progressive rock, especially King Crimson, which I consider my favorite band ever for the simple fact I've been able to stomach pretty much everything they ever put out, even the most self-indulgent and tough to listen stuff (the "ProjeKcts"). I also fell in love with some art-pop (Peter Gabriel, David Sylvian) and generally got more adventurous and tried to slowly discover other artists (but always unabashedly behind the times haha). I went through a Bowie phase, tbf I still don't think I truly "get" Bowie lol, but one of his most interesting albums to me is Outside, probably the weirdest thing he's ever done. I also got into some electronic stuff, Tangerine Dream, Yello (two funny looking swiss guys, you might be familiar with that meme song Oh Yeah lmao). I'm also extremely familiar with Tom Waits... (I'll mention Captain Beefheart since we're at it) I've delved into jazz here and there, Pat Metheny is the first thing that comes to mind, but I'm pathetically ignorant on the genre.

The latest artist I went through a phase and now consider one of my favorites is the band Talk Talk. Their short history is mindblowing, they went from "80s one-hit-wonder pop band" to making music completely out of its time. The Color Of Spring is the best 80s-pop-album-that-doesn't-sound-80s I've ever heard, and Spirit Of Eden is... something, lmao. That album and their last one, Laughing Stock were apparently very influential on later artists in the 90s and onwards, and are now considered masterpieces despite not selling very well at the time. The enigmatic band leader Mark Hollis eventually took the genius decision to... retire (gasp) and disappear from public view for the rest of his life (I think some "artists" out there could learn a lesson from that 🤐)

John Martyn's album One World is another recent favorite, a folk rock guitarist who got kinda trippy/experimental and recorded an album by a small lake, sometimes recording the sound of the speakers in the distance... there's a beautiful track on there called Small Hours where you can even faintly hear the geese.

Finally I want to mention two historical italian artists I'm familiar with - Franco Battiato and Lucio Battisti. I've always shunned music from my country when I was younger, but I'm trying to make up for it, and those two really captivated me (although if you grew up in Italy you can't escape hearing Battisti's more famous hit songs, also apparently Bowie was a big fan, so I've read...)

All of this is just the tip of the iceberg, what came to my head right now. Btw, I wanna know what the "classic rock to eene pipeline" is haha

[itoshi-s]

Don't worry I feel the same way about mochi ice cream D: the texture is great!! But the flavor....ehhhh. Also, Rin needs a psychologist gf lmao he and so many other boys (like Reo and Nagi) could benefit from having a partner with the analytical thought process and emotional maturity to call them out on shit and give them advice 😂😂😂

Out of curiosity btw, have you ever thought about what lipstick color/or chapstick flavors the bllk boys would like?? Reo supposedly like older, classy women so he seems like a vintage red lip guy with maybe a minty chapstick. Nagi, Isagi, and Rin seem like pink boys for sure but different shades. Bachira is a fruity flavor and likes the wholeeee color palette

aaaAaA pls the psych girlfriends …… yes absolutely </3 rin would HATE the thought of it, but eventually learn that it actually has its perks. nagi wouldn’t realize that it’s helpful 2 hear someone’s pov and actually give him some good insight on what’s going on w his thoughts. reo actively asks u for advice & wants to hear your opinion!!!! it’s not like he’s going 2 make use of it immediately tho lol he’s so baby :( but yes definitely agree. this is extremely self-indulgent but yes all of these stressed out emotionally constipated men need a psychologist s/o. end of story i am actually assigning them one as we speak :,3

as for the lipsticks !!! this idea is so cute omg ^_^ for starters reo is definitely into red, cool toned and rich!! matte or lacquered, it doesn’t really matter, he just loves the color in overall. it’s very classy && he’s absolutely into that. also may i add,, lipsticks stains…..oh he goes cRAZY. as for chapstick flavors yes! def something minty, nothing too weird, he likes the way it feels cool when he gives u kisses!

bachira is so fun omg he truly does like all the colors on u,, it’s so hard 4 him to pick a favorite he just loves them all :( watches you apply it in the mornings &&he’s so giddy ‘cause you can pull off anything and he likes how fun it looks. fruity chapsticks are a must, even better if u have a few different flavors and he makes it a little game to guess which one is it that you’re wearing today >_<

yes !! rin, isagi, & nagi all love pinkish shades. there's something so cute about it! i'd say rin is into nude-ish colors, the kinda pink that looks like your lip color but better, and loves if you wear a darker lip liner w/ it <33 it makes your pout pop nd he just cannot stop thinking about it!!!! chapstick flavor - anything sweet :( the sweeter the better. coconut, vanilla, or some other fancy stuff, he loves to lick his lip and taste the remaining traces!

isagi is more into lip gloss i feel like !! he doesn't discriminate between shades, but pink just does it for him. it makes your complexion all dewy and fresh and he likes how sweet it makes u look :< also adores the way ur lipgloss leaves stains on his cheeks and stains his lips a soft pink as well whenever u smooch him. somethin about yoichi strikes me as a simple,, lovely lovely guy and so i think his fav chapstick is just plain strawberry!!!! mmhm

last but not least, nagi likes u in a little toned down pinks. liquid matte, preferably,, so that it's not a pain later when u kiss him and leave marks :x BUT i'd say he also has a think for darker lip colors, i'm thinking a nice deep chocolate brown or perhaps a brown-ish gloss, i'm thinking of that one fenty heat shade..... it catches his attention, makes your lips so vibrant and accentuated, he cannot resist it!!!!! loves ur cola flavored chapsticks