#like genuinely how is this something that can happen??

[ms-demeanor]

hi, hopefully this isnt a stupid question -- this is only my second election i'm voting in, and i'm a little confused about results. is it actually confirmed that trump has won, or is it just almost certain based on the counted votes? bc i know that provisional ballots (like mine) probably arent immediately counted, and there was that thing about votes needing to be verified because of signatures, plus to my knowledge the electoral college doesnt vote til december? i'm probably just grasping at an infinitesimal chance of things not being shit, but also i do actually want to understand and google is not helping :( if you can't explain no worries, you just seem to be knowledgable & willing to answer questions haha

This is absolutely not a stupid question.

So everything is currently pointing at what is most likely, not at what is 100% certain, but it's like 99% certain. There are still votes being counted, but in the states where the election has been called it has been called either because enough of the ballots have been counted that the remaining count wouldn't change the results, or that the area is historically so strongly in favor of one party that it's exceptionally unlikely that they'd flip the other way (for example, they're still counting california's ballots but you're more likely to get struck by lightning five times today than california is to flip red in this election). The places that have not yet been called do not have enough electoral votes for Harris to win the election.

The electoral college is exceedingly unlikely to flip their votes against the state/district vote; "Faithless electors" is the term for members of the electoral college who would vote against the vote they are committed to for their region. It was something discussed in both the 2016 election and the 2020 election and flipping the electoral college without winning the election was the motivation behind J6. As shitty and bullshit as I think the electoral college is, if you're going to have one and you're going to have the rule of law, you can't hope for faithless electors because what you're hoping for at that point is that the people representing you are acting directly against the choice of the voters.

I want you to listen to me. I have been voting in presidential elections since 2004. Presidential elections always suck. Who the president is does matter, and does impact your life, but you genuinely do not have a ton of influence over that so you can't let it throw you into despair and inaction, because we should be active and political and protesting the wrongs of the world even if your favored political party wins. Vote in local elections, work with your local community, and if your local community sucks too, work with online communities to both give and get support.

Whenever something like this happens, people pass around the Mr. Rogers quote about looking to the helpers. I like that quote. I think it's good, I think it's hopeful, I think it helps! But I also think that sometimes it's even more effective if you look for how to help. Who are you the most scared for after this election? Who are you worried about in your community or among your friends? What can you do that might make their life easier? What can you do to protect people like that in your community? What don't you know that might make you better prepared to help them in the future?

One thing that I think is a fantastic way to prepare to help is to either begin or continue learning a language that you don't know. I am working hard on my Spanish because I live in California and there are a ton of Spanish speakers here who I might be able to help. Is it directly aiding anyone right at this second that I'm practicing conjugation? No. But it might help someone who is being harassed by a cop, or who is unhoused and needs help, or who is being abused by an employer at some point in the future, and I can get myself ready to help. Learn how to use naloxone and pick up up an inhaler; you might not need it now, but it'll make you ready to help someone who does need it. Order free covid tests every chance you get, even if you don't need them, because then you can give them out to people who do need them. Plan B has a multi-year shelf life. Pick some up so that you've got some on hand if someone needs it.

Maybe there's nothing you can do right at this exact second (though if you are able to donate to gender affirmation fundraisers, border kindness, abortion funds, bail funds, etc., you can absolutely do that), but you can get ready to help someone who will need you someday.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Danny's Did you know?

Danny is a contact creator.

He started off as a kid who wanted to dump info about space or other interests, making it more "Did you Know" as his theme, but his channel really took off the first time he invited a ghost to speak about the era that came before.

No one knows Sidney Poindexter is a ghost. Ghosts usually do not appear on camera; if they do, they are always a blur or barely visible outline. That doesn't come into play when the camera happens to belong to the Ghost King, who is unaware of the title.

Due to this, the ghosts, as his guest stars, turn out to look like normal human beings. There is no glow, no see-through effect, and the only odd thing about them is how they dress.

Even Poindexter's coloring could be explained with some well-done make-up.

They think he's just someone wearing a costume and pretending to be from the 1950s, using information Danny had researched. Danny's interview with Poindexter became an instant hit among those who applauded the genuine authenticity of what the 1950s actually were like.

Not only that, but Poindexter's reactions to modern terms and objects that Danny presents are hilarious to the viewers, as he never once broke character. There is even an entire section where both grumble about the bullying issue in their shared high school.

A particular scene becomes a trending meme.

"Did you know Dr. Seuss coined the word "Nerd" in 1950? He used it in the book If I Ran the Zoo," Danny tells Poindexter.

The other teenager rolls his eyes. "Of course, I knew. It was published in my first year of High school. I was one of the first to be called nerd, you know? It would have been more impressive if it didn't take the entire football team four days to read."

"Four days!?"

"Dr. Seuss's writing style saved the American reading levels back in my day."

"So we have always been stupid, huh?"

Danny's next guest is Johnny 13, a biker from the early 1980s who spends most of his time flirting with Danny—who doesn't acknowledge the attempts—and proudly tells the viewers he may have been there, but he was too poor to know much about the 1980s.

"What were the trends in that era?" Danny asks Johnny after considering his notes.

The biker shrugs. "I think cellphones? They were too expensive for me or my block. Never saw one in real life before I died."

"Well, one trend was waterbeds. Did you know that waterbeds were invented in the 60s? They were made by a design student but weren't popular until the 80s, making them popular for the sudden rise of sex appeal." Danny says with a cheerful grin.

Johnny 13 tilts his head, considering his words. "Radical. I couldn't afford a mattress, much less a waterbed, but I bet they were fun. If you can get your hands on one, I would happily show you how fun they can be."

Danny rolls his eyes and then considers something. "If you couldn't afford a mattress, how did you get your bike then?"

"I stole it. Car theft was effortless back then after hotwiring took off." Johnny's smirk turns dark. "I stole to keep myself fed. Bad luck followed you everywhere when you started at America's rock bottom. Only crime could get you out, and even then, life was shit."

Danny reaches out and pats his shoulder. "At least you got to live through one of the best eras in our history."

"Nah, I died in 1983. I missed it, but do you know who actually got to live it? Ember. She died in 1990."

Next week, Ember strikes an alarming resemblance to the one-hit-wonder singer Ember McLain, who had nearly made it big a few years ago.

"What were the 80s like?"

"Terrible, everyone hated me in school, and AIDS was killing all my friends."

Danny pauses for a long moment, looking horror-struck, until Ember shrugs, "But Glam rock was made popular, which was kind of cool."

"Glam?"

Ember smirked at the host, holding her guitar. "Want to hear some?"

By the end of her performance, everyone was losing their mind that Danny Fenton somehow knew a big name like Ember Mclain, and her music once again started to trend. So much so she released another song called "Lost," dedicated to all her fallen friends who died in the AIDS epidemic.

It goes on and on, with each new video showcasing different times and people from those backgrounds. Tim Drake never misses an episode as a dedicated follower of Danny's Did You Know?

He also thought it was a gimmick to make the show entertaining and thought nothing of the hilarious conversations—not when the host was such adorable eye candy.

Things are normal until Tim watches Danny interview Greta Hayes, who died in the late 90s. His very dead, very much a ghost teammate who happily tells the story of her life while looking like an ordinary girl for the first time.

It's not even someone dressed up as her. She makes an apparent reference to some slang Bart uses, and a few of the team's inside jokes are sprinkled into the conversation.

Tim feels a headache coming on. After watching the episode, he grinned darkly as he picked up his phone and called Bruce.

"So we may have a problem. Either a necromancer with an insane amount of skill or something similar. We need to go to Amity Park to investigate Danny Fenton."

Bruce sighs. "Tim, I am not helping you stalk your internet crush-"

"It's not stalking. It's detective work!"

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, looking up skirt, panty stealing + sniffing + licking, masturbation, professional misconduct, 18+ minors dni.

pervy electrician!toji who unintentionally shows up a little earlier at your house than he was supposed to and is rewarded with the sight of a very unprepared you hurriedly rushing to answer the door in just a baggy t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks.

pervy electrician!toji whose usual disinterested expression he has permanently plastered upon his features during work hours morphs into one of subtle interest as his dark eyes leisurely drag up and down your figure — and damn, he never gets sent out to clients as hot as you.

pervy electrician!toji who greets you with a simple nod as he brushes past you to get inside, his scarred lips involuntarily twitching up into an amused half-smile at how you ramble out several apologies for not being ready for his arrival.

pervy electrician!toji who casually waves it off and assures you that he doesn't mind; and he definitely doesn't mind when it means that he gets to watch you walk around in front of him wearing that shirt that barely even covers your ass.

pervy electrician!toji who is as well-mannered as he has to be when conversing with a customer, but makes sure to inject a little more charm into his voice just for you as he drawls out "well, what seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

pervy electrician!toji who silently pats himself on the back when he notices you grow slightly flustered at the polite term he used to address you by, leaning against your kitchen counter as he watches you explain the issues you've had with your power frequently cutting out lately.

pervy electrician!toji who has to make a concerted effort to bite back a scoff when you explain that despite being married, your useless husband has no idea how to fix the problem himself so you had no choice but to resort to calling his company.

pervy electrician!toji who can hardly even comprehend that your sorry excuse for a husband just went to work for the day and left a precious thing like you here with no power; some fools really don't know how good they have it, do they?

pervy electrician!toji who finds a rare, genuine smile pulling at his lips when you joke lightly that you'd make him a cup of coffee if there was any power for the kettle. so you're pretty as hell and you have a good sense of humour... oh, he's in trouble.

pervy electrician!toji who investigates the fuse box located at the back of the cupboard under the kitchen sink while you dash upstairs to change into something more appropriate, humming a quiet tune under his breath while he works.

pervy electrician!toji who figures out what the issue is in no time at all — there's a small leak dripping from the pipe leading from the bottom of the sink that has trickled down and fried some of the wiring; shouldn't be too hard to fix.

but for some reason, he finds himself wanting to create a reason for him to stay around here just a little longer.

so, pervy electrician!toji 'accidentally' makes the leak even worse by using the spanner on his tool belt to stretch the hole in the pipe slightly wider, causing any working part left in the fuse box to fizzle out into uselessness as a result.

pervy electrician!toji who has to pretend to be inconvenienced by the problem that he just worsened once you return to the kitchen, scratching the side of his jaw and telling you that it'll take him atleast a couple of hours to try and salvage the fuse box.

pervy electrician!toji who isn't exactly lying when he says this; just refraining from telling you the whole truth that there is no way to fix the ruined thing now. the entire box has to be replaced and he doesn't happen to have a new one with him today.

...looks like he'll just have to come back tomorrow, too.

pervy electrician!toji who keeps himself busy pretending to attempt to mend things under the cupboard, but finds it quite hard not to be distracted by your pretty self sitting atop the counter where you insisted on staying to keep him company while he works.

but, at the end of the day, pervy electrician!toji is a man, after all — a man who can't help himself from sneaking a quick peek up the edge of the skirt you changed into, holding back a groan when he catches a small glimpse of your patterned panties.

pervy electrician!toji who claims he needs to use your bathroom a little while later, making sure you don't follow him up the stairs before sneaking through the hall until he finds you and your husband's shared bedroom.

pervy electrician!toji who finds himself rifling through his client's underwear drawer like a damn horny teenager, hastily pulling out a pair of cute panties similar the ones he knows you're wearing downstairs right now.

pervy electrician!toji who is way too worked up to feel any sense of shame as he pushes his baggy work trousers down, exposing the extremely noticeable tent and subsequent wet patch staining the front of his boxers.

"fuckin' hell," pervy electrician!toji rasps as he shoves a hand into his boxers, wrapping it around the base of his painfully throbbing cock as he begins languidly stroking himself. "driving me crazy here, girl." he mutters to himself.

pervy electrician!toji who can't stop himself from holding your panties up to his face, cursing under his breath when he remembers that these are a clean pair from your drawer. no — he needs a used pair if he wants to be able to properly get off.

pervy electrician!toji who sifts through your laundry hamper like a starving man searching for scraps of food in a dumpster, his movements fuelled by the sheer need to release the overwhelming desire coursing through his veins.

pervy electrician!toji whose scarred lips twitch up into a victorious smirk when he finally finds a dirty pair of your panties, wasting no time in pressing his nose against the slick-stained crotch and inhaling your scent. and fuck, is it an intoxicating smell.

pervy electrician!toji who is utterly pussydrunk without even being near your actual cunt, tongue instinctively flicking out on its own to lap lightly at the soiled material, a pornographic moan falling from his lips afterwards.

"shit. tastes s-so sweet, heh." pervy electrician!toji grunts as he resumes those earnest tugs of his furiously hard cock, his sloppy mouth just coating your dirty panties with his glistening salvia.

pervy electrician!toji who is cumming in record time like a downright pathetic and touch-starved virgin, one press of his thick thumb against his weeping tip causing it to spill rope after rope of milky release into his boxers.

pervy electrician!toji who does actually go to the bathroom after he's pulled his trousers up and shoved both pairs of stolen panties into his pockets, cleaning himself up as best he can and checking his reflection in the mirror to make sure he doesn't look too wrecked.

pervy electrician!toji who saunters downstairs and faces you with an easy smile as if he didn't just jerk off with your used underwear pressed against his mouth, sharing the news that he'll 'unfortunately' have to return tomorrow to replace the broken fuse box.

pervy electrician!toji who tells you his usual bill for the basic work he's done today, although secretly gives you a considerable discount — one because it's you, and two because he didn't actually do anything to fix your power issue and instead deliberately made it worse so he could stay longer.

pervy electrician!toji who releases an amused chuckle when you frantically dart around the house in search of your purse, coming to the sheepish conclusion that you must've left it in your husband's car that he drove to work this morning with.

pervy electrician!toji who simply shrugs and suggests that you pay him when he comes by tomorrow instead. little do you know, however, that you've already paid him... just in the form of an orgasm and two pairs of panties instead of money.

pervy electrician!toji who is counting down the seconds until he can see you again as he drives home in the company van, body relaxed and sated from his previous climax and pockets stuffed pleasantly full with stolen underwear.

he'd say that was all in good day's work.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

pervy lifeguard!gojo <- PREVIOUS PART.

[tealvenetianmask]

I want to talk about a kind of troubling reaction I've been seeing to both Apology Tour and Ghostfuckers among parts of the fandom. The person is usually a reaction youtuber but sometimes someone writing on tumblr or twitter. They say something along the lines of "oh, I'm glad Blitz is being forced to confront his crimes/traumas/pain. This is the only way he will finally heal."

That's not how healing works.

I know that reaction youtubers don't always have the most developed takes because they're . . . you know . . . reacting in the moment. But I think it's still worth talking about.

I'm going set aside the people who seem to believe that Blitz needs to be punished for his crimes, and address those who genuinely think that getting a tidal wave of his own trauma in his face is what he needs to heal.

There's an attitude in contemporary culture that traumas are something people need to confront. As in, put on a brave face and dive in like a big boy. I blame capitalism, rugged individualism, and all the pieces of media that tie up a character's arc neatly by having them confront their darkest fears and insecurities. It can put a nice bow on things, but it isn't really how healing from trauma works.

Apology Tour:

Blitz gets confronted by a shit ton of people who hate him, at least some of whom are his exes, who he feels he's personally damaged. The decor and party games are all about killing and torturing him. Verosika confronts him about how much he hurt her. Oh, and then he sees the love of his life, who he's just recently pushed away, making out with another guy- proof, in his eyes, that Stolas is happier without him. And this all reflects the underlying fears he already has about who he is as a person (shown to us by Truth Seekers).

So what was the takeaway? Blitz came to the conclusion that he doesn't always want to be like this (good, but like . . . worth this much pain?). He flops on his steering wheel (relatable). He stops trying to reach out to Stolas (uh oh . . . ). He spends A MONTH spiraling in his own misery and making a mess of all aspects of his life until he's dragged out of it by a caring friend.

The party doesn't empower Blitz to change. It knocks him down and fucking traumatizes him (seriously, images of Stolas from the party show up later in his trauma reel) too much for him to be able to do actually work toward said change. I suspect that if left to his own devices, he would have kept spiraling for quite a while longer. It's one thing to want to change, and another to try to do so alone in the aftermath of a pile-on.

Ghostfuckers

After Blitz drags himself out of his hole of cheesy ice cream and despair to "play sex ghosts" (escapism, again, still knocked down by Apology Tour), infester demon Rolando picks him out as an easy target and assaults him, yes, assaults, with horrific images of his worst traumas and fears.

Not to state the obvious, but Rolando isn't interested in helping Blitz heal. He's trying to kill the guy. He wants to engulf Blitz in his trauma to the extent where he's consumed by it and loses the will to fight back. And as some excellent posts by others have pointed out already, he very likely would have succumbed if not for Millie's support.

Millie helps Blitz get through the onslaught by telling him about what makes him great and how he's improved her life and showing him love and care. And by literally beating the fucking infester out of him. Because there's someone in him who's hurting him, who's re-traumatizing him against his will. She takes him away from the reel of horrible memories.

So . . . do I think that confronting traumas can play a role in healing? Sure. But only if it's consensually (which neither of these situations are) and when the person trying to heal is ready. And most likely in small doses. No one's going and successfully confronting every horrible thing that's ever happened to them in one go.

And in my humble opinion, it's not going to work (for anyone, but especially not for Blitz) alone and without a healthy dose of kindness and compassion (both external and internal).

Blitz has a long road ahead of him toward healing, and it's going to be hard work on his part but also require love and support from the people in his life.

In a wonderful moment near the end of Ghosfuckers, Blitz and Millie work together to get Blitz's wrecked van unstuck and push it back through the portal into Hell. I love it because it's so simple and it kind of tells us everything we need to know. This sweet and salty gremlin has a lot of work ahead of him, but he doesn't have to do it alone.

[pawberri]

My most hated counterargument to the idea that therapy is useful is:

"Therapy is totally individualistic. If you say that you're scared of climate change or racism they'll tell you to stop being scared and solve it internally."

Because you know... while this CAN and DOES happen... it doesn't encompass all of therapy. You know what my therapist tells me to do if I talk about oppression or systemic issues? Volunteer! Get involved in my community! Actively push back on the isolation and hopelessness I'm feeling by Doing Something About It. Plus, even if I tell my therapist "I'm freaking out about climate change" and she says "take a deep breath and remember that the world is not literally ending at this minute", that isn't more selfish or individualistic than posting on tumblr about how you shouldn't get treatment ever because suffering is inevitable. Especially in times like these, getting the help you need to be able to take action and be a part of your community is not shameful. Severe mental health issues that completely derail your life are also not the only or inevitable reaction to these things happening.

I think it annoys me so much because it assumes there are no leftist therapists, no leftist therapists of color, no leftist therapists of color who experience poverty, etc etc. It assumes that the whole scientific field is disinterested in itself and making itself better. I promise you that whatever question first pops into your head has been presented and debated and expanded upon by people whose entire life revolves around it. I read studies all the time that show how forming community around an oppressed identity and participating in activism helps mental health and hopelessness. Yes, the world is full of systemic suffering, but NO, the only solution is NOT to give up and give in. Therapy can genuinely be what you need to survive and get out there and make change, and it's as valid as any other form of medical care. Don't listen to any stupid disengaged therapist who tells you just not to care and disconnect from the world completely but also don't listen to anyone who discourages you from getting help on that basis. That is not the only kind of therapist that exists.

[writerdownbookworder]

“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.

Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?

A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.

“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.

I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”

He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 

By the time I got there, it was too late.

“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 

It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.

I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 

Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”

I stubbornly ignore him.

He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”

He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.

Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”

“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”

Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”

“Why do you-”

“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 

“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”

I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”

Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”

He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.

The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.

Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.

I chose the latter.

your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times

[amazinglyashy]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?

(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)

Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3

LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street

Xavier -

He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.

There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.

He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.

So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.

He can't help it.

He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-

And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?

You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.

Zayne -

Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.

He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.

He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.

You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.

If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-

Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.

Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.

Rafayel -

He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.

If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.

He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.

The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.

He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.

He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-

And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.

Sylus -

I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.

Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-

But you knew.

You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.

For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.

No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.

Just a bit.

Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.

"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."

[ataleofcrowns]

Chapter Progress [NOV/06]

Hey all, it's been a while since I've written one of these 🍂

I've been posting regular previews on my Patreon, but a proper update was long overdue! As a refresher, my last update was this one, and I've got lots more to update you on now that I'm further along!

I've struggled a lot with this chapter and have been trying to wrangle it into shape as best I can, and I'm happy (and relieved) to say that I can finally give you an estimated release date: you can expect CH12 to be uploaded in December this year.

I won't be putting a specific date on it yet, since it could be anywhere from early December to late December depending on how much progress I make in November, but I'll let you know! Now, onto specifics.

The Main Plot

I'm currently balancing out LI specific content in the main plot! Regardless of what you chose in regards to Kham and the peri trader, players will be spending some time with D and X to make up for their absence in CH10 at the beginning of this chapter, and I've really missed writing their dynamic with each other as well as the Crown.

I genuinely can't decide which branch is my favorite. Meeting with Kham directly gives so much juicy verbal sparring and tension between not only her and the Crown but her and D and X as well. But meeting directly with the peri trader let me dig more into the worldbuilding, explore the city a bit, and have some more lighthearted shenanigans with D and X too.

I'll add some previews here for both routes that I've also already shared for people on the Patreon. Here's a little excerpt for people meeting with Kham:

“There is one thing I have been wondering, princess,” you say as you stare back into her eyes, watching the way the orange orbs of light flicker like flames. “When you first arrived here, you were accompanied by a retinue of guards. Whatever happened to them?” Kham does not raise her brows at you, exactly, but something similar to the motion as the wood above her eyes arches upwards with a stiff creaking sound. “They are not merely my guards, they are my servants first and foremost. Naturally, they run errands for me.” “What kinds of errands?” “Surely you do not think I would fetch all I require by myself?” She appears amused by the line of questioning rather than offended. “They trade with the peri merchants in your city on my behalf. Although, calling it trade is perhaps not accurate, as I hold the right to lay claim on their supplies whenever I please. They are representatives of my mother, after all.” You consider the explanation, but nothing about it seems notable or inconsistent so far. “So you have never dealt with this peri trader I wish to meet with yourself?” “Of course not.” She smiles, her wooden mouth briefly pressing together. “That would be beneath me.” “A shame,” $xname muses casually from beside you, contrasting the sharp look in their eyes. “We had hoped you might have some insight to share.” “As much insight as you are willing to offer me regarding this flower you seek,” Kham returns, her smile still in place. “The blue siren, yes? A rather strange fixation…” You feel the urge to tense, but withhold yourself from it by taking a slow, relaxed breath. All the rigorous physical training you have underwent over the course of the past month is already showing its benefits: you feel more aware and in control over your body, able to maintain your composure. A necessary skill when dealing with someone like Kham, as conversing with her feels like a dance of sorts. The two of you are watching each other’s steps, waiting for the other to slip.

And here's the excerpt for if you choose to meet with the peri trader:

You manage to make it through the marketplace, finally arriving at a large building with an open front, wrapping around the corner of the street. Tables and shelves are lined with various flowers and plants, perused by a few passing customers. This appears to be the peri trader’s shop, signaled by the sign at the front that reads Eshkar’s Garden. Eshkar being the name of the peri trader in question. Most of the flora on display you recognize, if not by the labeled names then by sight alone, but several look entirely new to you. Pale white flowers whose hanging bulbs pulse with light when a customer brushes against its leaves; bleeding vines wrapped around a miniature roofed trellis atop a tall table, its crimson flowers slowly dripping down pink juice caught by bowls below; a tall flower with only two black petals, large and pointed, that nearly startle you when they snap together several times in sharp, cracking sounds, almost as if the flower were clapping. IF CROWN IS INTELLIGENT Momentarily forgetting about your intended purpose in being here, you approach the clapping flower with curiosity, wondering what set it off. Sure enough, you see dead and decomposing flies of various sorts collected at the center of its bulb as you lean over to peer inside, taking care to avoid leaning in too close lest your nose get caught between the aggressive petals. Does it catch and eat small insects? How fascinating. You glance at the labeling of the flower, its name fittingly given as ‘black ovation’. IF CROWN IS INTUITIVE Eyes drawn by the visual spectacle of the white flowers, you find yourself wandering over to its shelf, glancing at the labeling that reads ‘stardrops’. The bulbs look ordinary at first glance, but sure enough, when you reach out to touch its petals, the flower begins to glow like you saw before. A ring of light travels up its stem, through the petals to the very ends, where it erupts into tiny little golden sparks. Hence the name, you suppose. Unable to stop yourself, you touch the flower again, mesmerized by the light show, until you notice a shop attendee frowning at you from nearby. Feeling scolded, you quickly pull your hand away and offer an apologetic smile.

Lots of fun going on in both routes! I don't envy you for having to make this choice lol.

Aside from this big branch, the main plot will converge for everyone again in the latter half of the chapter, where the Crown gets do to some more typical Crown things: hearing public petitions! They'll contain 2 smaller scenes where your character will hear out some citizen concerns, which will let you rack up reputation points with either the public or the nobility, and 1 major scene that affects a future plot point.

Not gonna spoil these since I've already talked so much about everything else regarding this chapter, so this will have to remain a surprise ✨

The Romances and Friendships

While the start of the chapter is X and D focused, if you have a specific (platonic) LI you want to spend more time with as buddies and perhaps get a little relationship advice, you'll have that opportunity at the start of CH12! I've had to write 12 variations in total for each friendship scene, which was a lot of work, but completely worth it.

Some LI routes also have big additional differences depending on if you have a low or high romance (such as A and R), while it matters a little bit less for the others for the time being (such as D and X). So if you screwed up on D or X's romances and have a low status, you're mostly in the clear from immediate consequences… for now.

Here's a little excerpt, taken from a playthrough of a Crown who has a high romance with A and chooses R's friendship scene:

Something like mischief gleams in $rname’s eyes as $rthey looks at you. “I’ve noticed you and $aname seem especially close nowadays.” You shift a little on the couch, averting your gaze to avoid $rname’s eyes as you strike a casual tone. “Do we?” “Mhm.” When you do glance over at $rname, you find $rthem studying $rtheir nails, and you begin to relax as you think it was just an idle remark. Until $rthey adds, “All the hand-holding underneath the table is endearing, I must admit. Especially since the two of you seem to think you’re being subtle about it.” IF CROWN IS RESERVED Heat flushes up your neck at being seen through so easily, remembering breakfast earlier that morning where $aname’s fingers hooked around yours beneath the table. “We were just… we’re not…” $rname looks up from $rtheir nails to grin at you. “There’s no need to look so embarrassed! I’m happy for you. The two of you seem well-suited for each other.” Trying to move past your flustered state, you clear your throat. “You think so?” “I’ve never seen $aname so at ease as when you’re around,” $rname considers, eyes narrowing with teasing and fondness both. “You look more unburdened with $athem near, as well.” IF CROWN IS FLIRTATIOUS You almost laugh at the remark and give it away completely, only managing to keep it in at the last moment and grinning back at $rname instead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” $rname looks up from $rtheir nails with a sly smile. “No? What a shame. I was going to say how well-suited the two of you are for each other.” That catches your attention, your playfulness easing into something more sincere. “Really?” “I’ve never seen $aname so at ease as when you’re around,” $rname considers, eyes narrowing with teasing and fondness both. “You look more unburdened with $athem near, as well.”

This scene aside, CH12 will also contain another dedicated romance scene with your LI, dealing with some of the fallout from last chapter whether good or bad. If your romance is high, you'll be coasting- except maybe for D romancers, who are in Pining Hell either way haha.

If your romance is low, though, prepare for some delicious angst 🙏🏼

That's all I've got for now! Thank you all so much for your patience and support as always, especially for how long I've been making you all wait. You're the best 💖

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it. (Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil your enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[that-satireguy]

100% disagree. You're a cishet white man? Cool. I'm a brown trans guy who was raised in a misogynistic cult.

Do you know how easy it is.

For people to fall into cults?

Doesn't matter who they are, or whether the cult likes them or not. Frankly, if the cult just say 'you look tired/lonely... just come to ONE of our meetings. You can rest for a little... no need to think. We like you, we'll take care of you.' And then the meeting has all the wonderful nice little joyful parts, with lots of dopamine rushes for the tired/stressed/lonely person.

And they come back. Of course they do. Thats how its designed. Cults don't go for 40 year olds with stable social circles, happy lives and a nice middle class job. They'll go for depressed mid life crisis people, isolated young men, (new parents interestingly), often young women coming out of abusive relationships, and now with the internet teenagers.

'EVERYONE IN THE GYM CLASS GETS TO DO LAPS NOW.'

Its interesting that you bring this up because there have been hundreds of studies that this is a bad way to get through to people. In fact this is PROVEN to create anger, resentment, and isolation from about age 4-5 onwards. This is a full proof way to get people to leave the gym class, and when they can't (because in this case the gym class is just 'white people') they'll go into the arms of another teacher

'You are a group, and responsible for each other. If you don't want to run laps, make sure no one in the group does something stupid.'- this is collective punishment, and especially in situations where yk, not every white guy knows each other(?) And there are other inconsistencies like economic class and age which makes it very difficult to police each others actions and btw, the larger the group, the less effective this principle becomes.

'In that I hear a desperate fear to drown out the uncertainty of the rich tapestry of a varied human experience with an opiate-like acceptance.'-

Yes. Thats it pretty much. Thats what humans want, you want that dopamine to keep flowing in your head. What you're missing here is though, is that your upbringing and social situation plays a role in this. Your resistance, and even derision to this concept, comes from it not being a consistent facet in your life. This usually happens after isolation and intense feelings of hopelessness. When you don't have people to give you the dopamine and human connection you need... this will happen. Theres no 2 ways about it, it will happen. That is when you get therapy. And before the analysis, before the improvement and work, a therapist will listen. listen and tell you that your feelings are ok, and only after that, will you work on them.

'ou don't have to think too hard about it, as long as that warm blanket of surity hits as they smile'- yeah thats how conditioning and love bombing works.

'Man up.'- dumbest advice i've ever heard. genuinely. when has this ever worked for anyone. 'I'm struggling' 'Just don't'.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 2

Part 1.

Summary: You swallow your pride and ask Melissa to do you the favor of a lifetime.

WC: ~2.5k

Monday morning comes all too soon for you. Today is the day that you have to swallow all of your pride and your hatred for the redheaded woman and all but beg her to pretend to be your faux girlfriend for the holidays.

You’re sitting at your desk trying to grade the last few spelling tests you skipped out on over the weekend when you hear her make her way in, keys jingling and boots clanking against the tile loudly. God- you do not want to do this. But it’s now, or it’s in the staff lounge with everybody watching and listening in. So, you stand from your desk, run your fingers through your hair nervously, and make your way over to her door.

Her back is turned to you, she’s leaning over to put her bags on the ground, and… damn. Her figure is insane. You take a few silent moments to appreciate it without her being aware that you’re there. Quietly, you knock on her doorframe and lean against it, arms crossed over your chest. Are you pushing your breasts up just the slightest bit? Maybe. If you have to swallow your pride and nearly die of embarrassment, you might as well look hot doing it.

She turns just her top half, still leaning over, and you have the perfect view of her… Shit. Stop looking. 

“What could you possibly need right now?” She huffs out. “It’s freakin’ Monday at 7:30.”

You harden at the greeting she’s given you. “Trust me,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do. But, I got to talk to you. Alone.”

“Oh?” The redhead raises her brow and sits in her seat before looking at you confused. “Come to finally tell me that you’re-”

“I need a favor,” you sigh. “Like, a really big one.”

“I can’t get you outta a ticket,” Melissa snorts. “You know that.”

“I don’t need that. I need… I need you to…” Just fucking say it. “I need you to pretend to my girlfriend over the holidays.”

Her jaw drops. It’s clear that’s not what she was expecting you to say in the slightest. “What?”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend over the holidays, and before you shoot me down, at least let me give you the sob story and think about it. Please?”

She begins howling with laughter. “Sure, let’s hear it.”

You explain what had happened on Saturday, and you hate the way that she’s getting such pleasure out of your misfortune. “And they all mentioned something about it yesterday as I was leaving too, so I know I can’t get out of embarrassment either way- having you there somehow seems like the better option.”

“Why’d you say my name?” your colleague asks, and it’s clear she genuinely wants to know. But then she gives you that ridiculous smirk again. “Is it because you know I’m the hottest person you could think of?”

“Please,” you snort. “I was going through the list of single people I knew in my head, and I knew I couldn’t say someone that my mom already knew… unfortunately, your name came out of my mouth before I could stop it. And now they know what you look like, so it’s not like I can ask anyone else to pretend to be you. But you wish I thought you were hot.”

That’s a bluff. You think she’s hot as hell, but she can’t know that. And what you don’t know is that Melissa wishes you didn’t hate her the way that you do, and she wishes that she didn’t have to pretend to hate you to get your attention. 

“What’s in it for me?” she chooses to ask.

You roll your eyes. “My mom’s cooking, and you get out of having to deal with Kristen Marie on Christmas.”

“And…?”

“A hundred bucks.”

“A hundred bucks a day.”

“No way.”

“How many days are we talkin’?”

“Probably the weekend,” you sigh. “That’s three hundred bucks and an hour car ride there and back; usually stay with them during the holidays so I don’t have to drive back and forth, and if I don’t, they’ll know something’s up.”

“Three hundred bucks,” Melissa states again. She knows she won’t take your money, but she wants to see how desperate you are.

You groan. “Fine.”

“And then what are you gonna tell them after?”

“That we broke up,” you tell her as if it’s obvious. “Trust me. This is just going to be a weekend thing, and then I’ll only have to talk to you at work.”

“Fine. Don’t go fallin’ in love with me, babe,” the redhead winks at you.

You absolutely despise the way that the red creeps into your cheeks. “Don’t worry. That’s the last thing I’ll be doing.”

As the holiday season approaches, your mother continues to pester you about bringing your ‘girlfriend’ around before the actual holiday. Luckily, you can use the excuse that you are extremely busy with your students, as is Melissa. It’s not a lie- you feel like you’re drowning this year. You know your colleague isn’t fairing much better with her students.

But the Friday before winter break starts, exactly a week before you have to make your way back to your parents house, you step into Melissa’s room again early in the morning.

“Come over tonight. We need to figure out all of the details of our relationship so we don’t flop in front of my family next week,” you tell the redhead.

Melissa shakes her head though. “You come to me. Ain’t no way I’m goin’ to your place and eating takeout when I can just make us dinner.”

“Fine.”

“Six. Bring wine.”

After a long day of school with children all too eager to be done for the week, they’re sent home, and you’re able to leave the school for the weekend. You’re looking forward to the last few days of teaching before the break and then Christmas break itself… until you remember that you have to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the day after with Melissa. God, this is going to suck.

Still, you’re caught in your web of lies, and you know you can’t back out now- not this late in the game. So, at six o’clock, you’re on Melissa’s front stoop, knocking with a few bottles of wine in hand.

When the redhead opens the door, you hate yourself for ogling her. She’s standing there in a tank top and sweatpants, hair knotted up in a messy bun, and covered in flour. “Jesus. I said a bottle, not three.”

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, and we’re gonna have to be drunk to make this work,” you shrug.

“Red,” is all she says as she steps out of the way to let you in. “Don’t forget that for when you’re getting me wine at your parents.”

You make a mental note of that, and then you make your way in. “I hate you.”

“I know,” is all Melissa responds with. “But it wasn’t me who said we were dating, now was it?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Green eyes bore into your own for a few seconds, clearly challenging you.

You just set your things down on her counter with a scowl. 

As much as you hate to say it, her cooking is delightful. The wine pairs well with the food. And you aren’t complaining about the view. Melissa looks… she’s hot as fucking hell, and you’ve caught yourself staring at her rack quite a few times during dinner.

You insist on cleaning up dinner, and she fights you on it. There’s something about it that makes you feel a certain way. It’s almost like you love to hate her.

Before you know it, the two of you are settled on the couch, each with yet another glass on wine in hand, and you’re attempting to hash out your fake love story.

“I told them we’ve been dating for a while,” you sigh. “So… I’m thinking four months? Long enough for you to show up to Christmas, but short enough for them to not know about you.”

“Sure,” she agrees without much of a fight. “I’m assuming we just met through work?”

“I figure the more truthful this lie is, the easier it’ll be to keep up with,” you shrug.

Melissa nods along. “That’s a good plan.”

“The other thing is…” you rub your collarbone nervously. “When I’m in a relationship, I tend to be quite touchy, so we have to- we have to do that.”

The redhead shrugs. “Whatever we have to do in order for me to get my three hundred bucks.”

You spend another two hours learning about each other, drinking wine as you go. She’s learned about your parents, your aunts and uncles, where you went to college, what your favorite color is, what kind of wines and cocktails you prefer, the foods that will be at dinners that you won’t go near, what you like to do in your free time… and in turn, you’ve heard all about her enormous family, how long she’s been at Abbott, how she loves to crochet but never knit, the fact that she has a guitar in her classroom that she doesn’t know how to play other than basic chords, among other things. The two of you agree that Melissa was the one to make the move on you after a happy hour with the work crew. You were the first one to say ‘I love you’, and those at school aren’t aware of the budding relationship between the two of you.

It’s a revealing night, and you find yourself not wanting to beat the shit out of the woman next to you. You would almost venture to say that you’re enjoying you’re time with her- almost. 

It’s fairly safe to say when you’re finished going over family trees, your back story, and basic information about each other that you’re both wine drunk. You’ve gone through two bottles, and you’re halfway through the third.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think I’m lettin’ you drive home like this,” your coworker laughs as she watches you attempt to gather your things. “Just stay the night.”

“Like hell I’m doin’ that.”

“You’re gonna have to spend a weekend with me sharing the same bed, in your parents’ house. Get over yourself,” Melissa tells you. “Seriously. Just stay- I got a spare bedroom you can use.”

“Fine.”

The next morning, she’s awake before you and somehow not hungover the way that you are. Melissa’s already left the house actually. She left you a note to make you aware of that.

Had to run out to do some grocery shopping. Don’t miss me too much. She finishes the note with a winking face, and she signs it ‘Mel’.

You roll your eyes, but you pick up the pen before scrawling out, Thanks for letting me stay the night. And then just to fuck with her, you scribble down an ‘xo’. And then you head back to your own apartment, entirely forgetting that you’re still clad in her sweatpants and About shirt.

With a heavy sigh, you shoot her a text. I left, but I forgot I’m wearing your stuff.

Just keep it for now. Bring it when we go to your parents’ house so it looks like you’ve had it for a while.

I hate to say it, but good idea.

I’m full of good ideas, babe.

You spend most of your Saturday nursing a hangover, Sunday is spent preparing things for the final few days of school before Christmas break. With Christmas Eve being on a Friday and Christmas being on a Saturday, that means you have up until Wednesday with your kids. Wednesday is the class holiday party, and you would prefer to have everything set and ready for you to just throw in the trunk of your car come the day of the celebration before you send the kids off.

Then, once your kids are sent off to their parents high on sugar and eager for the break from learning, you’re stuck with the knowledge that you have to spend some of your own retreat with the woman that you love to hate.

“I think we should have dinner again,” Melissa knocks on your door as you’re gathering your belongings. “Come over, I’ll make dinner, and we can go through our story again.”

“I’m bringing the wine?”

Your coworker smirks. “Yeah.”

This dinner ends the exact same way that your last dinner with the redhead did. You’re asleep in Melissa’s guest room dressed in a pair of her sweatpants and an old Abbott tee-shirt.

When you wake up this time around though, Melissa isn’t out. She’s actually downstairs sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.

“The newspaper? Are you serious?” you tease her.

Your colleague just rolls her eyes. “I like having the fine print- reminds me of when my dad used to read it.”

“Well, lucky for you, my parents still get the paper delivered every morning,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how, but they manage it.”

Melissa purses her lips and sips her coffee. “Good to know.”

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly before sighing. “Well, I’m gonna head out, but I’ll pick you up Friday at ten? My mom likes when I come over early so I can help her set everything up.”

The redhead just nods.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night again,” you say quietly before you grab your bag and leave.

Thursday, you spend most of the day regretting your decision of lying to your parents and aunt and somehow convincing the Melissa Schemmenti to play into your lie. Most of Thursday night is you lying awake and stressing. When you do finally fall asleep, you’re plagued with stress dreams about how this could all go terribly wrong.

All too soon does your alarm go off, you’re hauling your suitcase into the car, and then you’re making your way to Melissa’s house to pick her up.

She’s ready relatively quickly and jumping into your passenger seat in an awfully good mood for someone who has to pretend to be in love with you.

The drive is quiet, and you thank God for that. But then, you’re pulling into your parents’ driveway, and your nerves start to get the best of you. You feel your palms sweating as you don’t loosen your grip on the steering wheel. 

Melissa looks to you with her brows furrowed. “Hey.”

“What?” you grit out.

“If you don’t fuck this up, I won’t.” And then she’s out of your car and grabbing both of your bags before she makes her way over to your door and opens it for you.

You raise a brow.

“Your mom is already standing at the front door waiting for us to come in,” she whispers to you. And then for good measure, she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “C’mon.”

You tangle your hand with her free one, and then you’re making your way up to the door. You can only pray Melissa isn’t disgusted with your sweaty palms.

You don’t even have to knock before your mother whips open the door, Aunt Jo right behind her, with a grin on her face.

Here goes nothing. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[eddiemunchem]

📄 what my dreams are made of | time and time again, eddie has seen you cry over guys that aren’t even worth your time; so, when he catches you crying once more, he decides it’s the last time — and he will show you that you’re exactly what his dreams are made of.

⚠️ 3.6k words, fem!reader, reader has a pussy, bestfriend!eddie, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, kinda dom!eddie, passionate eating out, chubby!coded reader (no extreme graphic depictions but certainly alluded), bullying, some triggering themes, self-doubt that eddie smothers out, 1 thigh pinch, eddie cums in his pants (i was sick while writing this please forgive me if it’s not the best)

💋 i am genuinely so, so sorry for how long this took to get out bby! i always do my best to prioritize comfort reqs, as that’s my purpose for even taking reqs and really writing in the first place, and i wish i could have gotten this out much sooner. i hope this can bring you some comfort sweetheart, you are so so beautiful!! <33

you were so fucking stupid.

so stupid for being so naive. for ever allowing yourself to entertain the fantasy that the christian grosso could ever be attracted to you.

after all, the students of hawkins high dubbed you ‘the elephant amongst tigers’ for a reason.

angry tears slipped down your face as you threw your bag to the floor, uncaring of the loud thump it provoked. your mother was downstairs and likely heard it, and she’d probably even ascend the stairs and try to rib you for information — but you couldn’t find the energy to care.

you couldn’t find the energy to feel anything aside from angry sadness. and if your mom did come check on you, you’d simply tell her you’re feeling sick. yeah, that would work.

with a huff you plopped down on the edge of your bed, upsetting the stuffies strewn along the headboard. you gave them an apologetic wince.

your mind kept replaying the lunchroom disaster. christian’s mocking, mean smirk as he held up a dress two times too small for you was branded into your eyelids.

“oooh, i’m sorry. i thought this was your size. looks like we can’t make it to the dance after all. i’m so sorry.”

fresh tears burst from your eyes and you choked down a sob. it was so mean, so humiliating, so evil… you didn’t understand what you’d ever done to deserve something like that. was simply existing enough of a crime to warrant that kind of punishment?

a soft knock reached your ears. you sucked in a shuddery inhale. you were wondering when she’d amble up to your door.

“i’m fine, mom.” you croaked out. “i just feel sick. please don’t come in.”

you really didn’t want her to see the fat, ugly tears running down your cheeks. didn’t want her to see how blotched your makeup was, especially not when you had spent a literal hour perfecting it in front of your mirror.

so. fucking. stupid.

your door creaked open and you nearly gasped at the familiar clunk of heavy boots across your planked floor. you snapped your head up to find eddie standing just through your doorway, chocolate eyes rounded and soft.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, soothingly, and your heart sunk.

he knew about what happened. he hadn’t been in the lunchroom at the time, but you knew it would reach him; it was all the student body could talk about.

you opened your mouth to reject his sympathy; but what came out was a strangled sob, and eddie was rushing to your side immediately.

warm, thick arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into eddie’s equally warm body. your head was guided to his collarbone, so close to his neck that you could smell his sharp cologne; a familiar, cozy, thick woodsy scent.

he’d been wearing the same aroma since eighth grade, and it never failed to bring you a sense of tranquility and stability. comfort. safety.

you broke.

“eddie.” you choked out, digging your cheek into his chest and slipping your arm around his middle. he was warm; so, so warm. just like always.

“shh, it’s okay.” eddie soothed, ringed hand running through your hair. “it’s okay, sweets.”

your shoulders shook harder as you spilled gallons of salty tears into his shirt — his iron maiden shirt, if you weren’t mistaken.

you barely noticed the way he was rocking your body with his softly, or the weight of his chin hooked atop your head, but you were painfully aware of how good his hand felt skimming through your hair, and how comfortable the weight of it was.

“i-i don’t understand.” you gasped out between heaves. “i don’t k-know w-what i did.”

“you didn’t do anything.” eddie stated, voice firm yet gentle. “you didn’t do anything, angel. they’re just assholes.”

you weren’t sure how long you spent wrapped within eddie’s embrace; his strong arms holding you, soft voice shushing you, gentle hand caressing you — but at some point, your sobs had faded to mere sniffles.

you finally felt secure enough to pry yourself out of his embrace; eddie loosened his hold, but his arm remained over your shoulder — an anchor, should you need the support.

“i’m so tired of it, eddie.” you whispered, voice wet and croaky from all the crying. “i’m so tired of being ugly.”

your heart was breaking into a million pieces, yet also somehow felt as if it was too big to fit comfortably in your chest. every beat was painful, tightly wrapped in a ribbon of sadness.

eddie sucked in air through his teeth and muttered something under his breath; you weren’t quite able to catch it, so you nudged him with your elbow.

“i didn’t hear you, eds. what did you say?”

eddie’s eyes snapped up to yours, and you felt your heart skip in your chest. they were soft, yet had a hard edge to them, one that you couldn’t place.

“i said you’re not ugly.” eddie pushed out, anger detectable in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. eddie always became incensed when things like this happened.

“that prick just took things too far.” eddie seethed, drawing a ringed hand through his hair. “way too far.”

you swallowed thickly and nodded mutely, though you didn’t know if you fully agreed with eddie. after all, if things weren’t supposed to be this way, then why were they? it’s because everything, every single word and insult, that everyone threw at you was true.

“it wouldn’t happen if i wasn’t so—”

“don’t you fucking dare.” eddie snapped, cutting you off abruptly and shocking you into silence. he’d never taken that kind of tone with you. as if realizing this himself, eddie sucked in a deep breath and started again, much more softly.

“don’t say some shit about how you deserve it, or that it’s somehow your fault. it’s not. you know it’s not.”

fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and you had to look away from eddie quickly so as to not alert him to the swelling.

“but i was stupid. i let myself think he was genuine.” you countered back, wanting — no, needing — eddie to understand that in some way, this was your fault. that was the easiest way to explain it. that it was the only way that it made sense.

“stop that.” eddie ordered, fingers squeezing your shoulder. “you aren’t stupid.”

“eddie, i am.” you exploded, propelling yourself up from the bed and effectively launching eddie’s arm off of your shoulders. you began to pace as you rambled, “i’m stupid to think anyone would want me, let alone christian grosso, and i let myself get tricked into thinking that my crush actually liked me back—”

“i want you.”

the world seemed to screech to a halt right on its axis. eddie hadn’t said the words very loud — as a matter of fact, his statement was barely more than a whisper — and yet, it seemed to reverberate around your room like the boom of a bass speaker.

slowly, you turned your head to train your eyes on him. you searched his face, looking for some sort of deception, lie, fib — anything.

but all you found was pained sincerity.

“what?” you pressed, throat tight and tongue nearly tied. had you heard him right? were you having some sort of fever dream?

eddie sighed deeply and linked his hands together between his knees.

“i said ‘i want you.’ i have for a long time, actually.”

eddie’s words didn’t sound bored, or disingenuous, but they sounded almost… resigned. as if knew what little effect they’d have on you. twice. he’d said twice. yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“you — you… want me?” you parroted back, gesturing to yourself with a finger.

eddie nodded.

“are you sure?” you pressed.

eddie nodded again, more emphatically this time.

your heart was trembling in your chest — eddie actually wanted you? you? eddie, who was handsome, funny, charming, sweet, and completely and utterly unavailable due to his status as your best friend, wanted you?

no. this couldn’t be right. there must be some sort of mistake.

“but, how do you—”

“oh, jesus h. christ.” eddie suddenly bursted, pushing himself up from the bed and stomping towards you. you barely had any time to react before his hands grasped your elbows and he pulled you forward, and electricity shot through your entire body when he leaned down to press his lips firmly to yours.

the kiss was chaste, more of just a hugging of lips, but that’s how it was intended — eddie was getting a point across, and as hard as it was for you to truly believe it, you could feel it within that kiss.

the truth that eddie munson, your best friend of almost a decade, wanted you.

and that very best friend was kissing you. and it felt amazing.

your hands, as inexperienced as they were, traveled up to grip his shoulders, and you took the first step in deepening the kiss by clumsily lapping your lips over his.

eddie groaned and responded with a similar action; except, his movements were much more fluid and smooth, likely from years of experience in the field.

you hated the way that made jealousy burn in your gut.

eddie’s hands fell from your elbows to come to rest on your hips, where he gripped rather roughly. a sound similar to a moan slipped from his mouth and into yours, the sensation sending heat flooding straight to your gut.

“fuck, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to do this.” eddie panted, kneading his fingers into your hips. “just grab these beautiful fucking hips of yours.”

your stomach swooped and your skin flushed beneath his words; you felt slightly self conscious of the portion of body eddie was grabbing, but eddie seemed to fall absolutely feral over it.

his lips remained hooked to yours as he stumbled backwards, pulling you with him. you followed blindly along with him, loathe to break the hot, wet embrace between the two of you, and nearly gasped when eddie fell flat to the bed and pulled you down with him.

“eddie!” you exclaimed softly into his mouth when you realized you’d landed on top of him, but when you tried to scramble off, eddie wrapped his arms around your midsection.

“don’t even think about it.” eddie murmured, voice little more than a growl, “stay on top of me, pretty girl.”

you whimpered low in your throat, the sound swallowed by eddie’s fiery lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wiggling in his hold. you didn’t feel comfortable like this, not in this position—

eddie rolled his hips up and completely cut off your train of thought; poking into your tummy was something hard, something hard and located between eddie’s legs.

“feel that, angel? feel what you’re doin’ to me?” eddie growled, rolling his hips in lazy thrusts. that heat in your gut intensified, and you couldn’t help it when the smallest whimper fell from your lips.

“god, you sound so fuckin’ pretty.” eddie groaned, hands smoothing down your body until they found purchase on your ass. he squeezed the flesh in his fingers and used the leverage to rock your body into his.

“wanted you for so goddamn long, i almost can’t hold myself back.”

eddie’s kiss was feverish now — not clumsy, but passionate and wet. his lips moved against yours as if he was trying to make up for years of neglect in one kiss, and his tongue and teeth scraped against your lips at intermittent points. your brain felt completely frozen, unsure of how to even match his pace.

“use your tongue, sweetheart.” eddie guided, as if reading your mind. “use your tongue like i am.”

you doubted you could use your tongue the same way eddie could use his, but you wanted to try. slipping your tongue against his felt strange, slimy, but not uncomfortable — and he tasted minty, like peppermint, so it wasn’t gross like you thought it would be.

you were certain your movements were clumsy, but they pulled satisfied groans from eddie regardless. his hips bucked up against you faster and his breathing turned shallow.

“fuck, good girl.” eddie moaned, sliding a hand up your back to tangle in your hair. he pushed you impossibly closer to him and deepened the kiss.

your entire body was buzzing, heated from the inside out, and there was a tingle between your legs. a warm, wet tingle.

“eddie,” you mewled into his mouth, hips shifting on their own, as if they were searching for something. “i feel weird.”

“i know, angel. just hold on.” eddie uttered, hips still careening into yours, hard-on grinding against you through the clothes. what was this weird pull in your stomach?

eddie’s lips remained against yours for a few more seconds, all the while you wiggled, whimpered and mewled into him, until he finally relented and pulled away.

“lay on your back, babygirl. i’m gonna show you something.” eddie prompted, voice deep gravel, eyes swallowed by black.

you swallowed when something kicked in your gut, and the moment eddie released his hold on you you scrambled off of him and fell on your back beside him. eddie was quick to mirror your actions, but rather than lying down, he crawled to the end of the bed and situated himself by your legs.

“open.” he demanded softly, and for the first time since his lips touched yours, you felt legitimate hesitance. you stared at him almost blankly, body quivering subtly in your skin. eddie arched a brow at you and fuck, that was pretty hot.

“angel, spread your legs.” eddie murmured, fingers coming up to caress the bare skin of your thigh. his voice was a rumble, enticing and sweet, but somehow comforting... like you didn't have to be afraid of obeying.

with a shaky breath you finally assented and spread your thighs open, snapping your eyes shut when eddie sucked in a sharp breath.

"fuck, look at these panties. so cute." you nearly jumped from your skin when eddie slid a finger up your mound, a sort of electric feeling throbbing through your hips when his fingertip scraped against your clit.

"they're nearly soaked through, baby." eddie cooed, continuing the stroking motions, pulling small moans and pants from your lips. “did you get this worked up just from kissing me?”

for some reason you couldn’t place, you nodded your head — it was as if you had no real control of some of your motor functions, like part of you was in some sort of trance.

“mmm, sweet baby.” eddie whispered darkly. “you have no idea what i could do to you.”

as if to punctuate his point, eddie pressed his finger to your clothed clit and rubbed, and fuck, it felt so good.

you’d touched yourself before, but never had it felt this intense. the moans that slipped from your mouth were purely lewd and near foreign.

“e-eddie, what’s—?”

“shhh, angel. don’t question anything. just feel.” eddie murmured, effectively silencing your inquiries. eddie continued to rub your clit, picking up pace as your moans grew in volume, as your hips bucked into his hand.

it felt good, so incredibly good, but the pleasure seemed muted — the friction not enough to build you up to that wonderful precipice.

“eddie—”

“yeah, baby, i know. you’re ready f’more.” eddie teased, and even with your eyes closed, you knew he was smirking. your breathing was labored, you felt desperate, it was hot—

“‘m gon’a take care of you, baby.” eddie soothed. “gon’a show you how beautiful you are.” eddie slid his hands up your thighs and dipped them beneath your skirt, fingers grasping the lace of your panties and tugging. you followed the unspoken command and lifted your hips, allowing him to slip you free of the garment.

any prior hesitation you felt had been forcefully shoved out by lust.

cold air blew against your pussy the moment it was no longer shielded, and you gasped at the sensation. you didn’t really have the time to complain about it, however, because before you could it was swallowed by heat once more.

wet heat.

your eyes popped open and you glanced down to find eddie’s head nestled between your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you as he dragged his tongue over your aching clit. he did so slowly, torturously, as if he was merely giving you a taste of what he could truly do.

you opened your mouth but all that fell out was a wanton moan. this was something completely out of your experience, something you’d only thought about fleetingly.

eddie groaned into your cunt when your clit throbbed under his tongue, and he dipped the wet muscle down to prod at your slit before slipping it back up. he was lapping at you like a dog, tongue everywhere, as if he wanted to brand the memory of your shape against it.

“eddie,” you whined, hips shaking against him. eddie let out a strange sound as he gripped at your thighs and squeezed, head shaking side to side subtly and sending shocks up your body from the new sensation.

“fuck, taste so good,” eddie whimpered into you, the sound high and needy. “can’ get ‘nough.”

you gasped and cinched your eyes shut, that tension ramping up in your gut and pulling your muscles tight. it felt so fucking good, you were going to go insane.

“mm-mm, no.” eddie suddenly growled and pinched your thigh. you jumped from the pain and snapped your eyes down to him. “fuckin’ look at me, angel. i wan’a see your face when you cum.”

despite the strong urge to look away and the undercurrent of embarrassment beneath your skin, you simply couldn’t tear your eyes away from eddie’s. satisfied with obtaining your full focus, eddie went right back to devouring you.

his tongue was demonic against your cunt, lapping at your folds and flattening across your clit. soft groans and growls fell from his lips as he munched, hands leaving finger shaped bruises on your thighs from how hard he was gripping them.

how it could feel so damn good, you didn’t know. you’d heard talk, yeah, but so many girls had also said that they’d never cum from head before… you just assumed you’d be the same.

but with the way eddie was working your cunt with his lips and tongue, you were realizing you’d be the exception.

“fuck, shit,” you whispered, eyes locked with eddie’s, staring into twin abysses. his own hips rocked into the mattress as his tongue traced over your clit, stimulating himself against your bed. and that just seemed to make it hotter.

“i’m so close.” you murmured, reverently, rendered breathless from the pleasure eddie was shoving into your system. his eyes darkened even more, if that were possible, and his movements became much more feverish. one hand slipped from your thigh and you gasped when you felt a fingertip prod at your entrance.

“eddie,” you warned, anxiety settling in your stomach. even you hadn’t put anything in there; what if it hurt?

“trust me, angel. i won’t hurt you.” eddie murmured against your cunt, tracing his finger up and down your slit. you swallowed, still hesitant, but you trusted eddie — so you nodded.

eddie groaned low in his throat and focused his tongue against your clit, assaulting it with fast flicks. his finger slipped into your entrance with nearly no resistance, and you gasped when he curled it up against something.

“there it is,” eddie cooed, pumping his finger inside you languidly. “there’s that sweet spot, baby.”

you had no idea what he was talking about — but fuck if it didn’t feel so fucking good. your fingers twisted into the blanket beneath you, lips swollen and wet, throat nearly sore from all the moaning.

eddie fucked his finger into you at a near brutal speed, hitting that spot over and over, and you could feel it building — powerful and intense, nearly rupturing your stomach from how tense your muscles were. you couldn’t help the way you thrusted your hips against his face, against his tongue, shoving his finger deeper inside you.

chasing it. that euphoric high.

“fuck yeah, shit. c’mon angel, bust in my fuckin’ mouth.” eddie growled, and that was it — one final jab to that spot, one more flick of his tongue, and you were absolutely losing it.

your thighs and hips quaked as that coil finally snapped, fluid gushing around eddie’s finger and undoubtedly soaking the bed, walls fluttering and clit throbbing under his tongue.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” you chanted, eyes rolling back as your muscles continued to tense and release. eddie lapped his tongue around his finger, groaning at your sweet taste.

your orgasm was slow to recede, the aftershocks still wracking your body when eddie slipped his finger out and rose to his knees — if your vision wasn’t so fuzzy you would have noticed the prominent wet spot covering the front of his jeans.

exhaustion crawled into your limbs with frightening speed, your muscles almost like jelly, and when eddie flopped down at your side and gathered you into his arms you were little help with it.

“do you believe me now, angel?” eddie murmured, and all you could do was nod sleepily. the edges of your vision was turning black, sleep well on its way to claiming you.

“good. don’t you ever forget it.” was the last thing you heard before you fell to the abyss, warm, satisfied, and comfortable.

completely and utterly loved.

[homiro]

It was okay before. It was okay when Bush was elected twice. Yes, more people will die again but when has that stopped happening especially in Muslim countries? It will be okay. It won't be good but it will be okay. Humanity has been fighting and killing each other for millennia. There was I think maybe less than month of peace since 1945.

Remember all the times it was hard and it was okay. Not good, the word really is 'okay'. Remember boarding schools and assimilation. Remember slavery. Remember segregation. Remember Emmett Till. Remember the Civil Rights Movements. Remember that the Native-American Self-determination Act only dates back to 1975. It will be okay. Take this time to reconnect with nature and spirituality. I'm not saying 'go to church' but by all means if that's your creed, go for it. It helps. Even if you're a minority or marginalised and that creed says you're going to hell, I know there are ways to see the original intentions of love and kindness. "Fazer o bem sem olhar a quem" (do good without caring to whom). But now more than ever it's a time to connect with nature and see that there's more than money and greed and the 1% that keep the 99% looking down. Fuck, find strength for an uprising in the power of connecting with nature and your ancestral roots. Even if you're white. White people were indigenous once and that's still in the genes and people forget that. It feels like most people are so removed from the natural ways of human existence that they don't remember anything anymore. Maybe that's why people are so tired and lost and the energy of the world feels so gloom and heavy.

Just some thoughts and more in the tags because I'm a goofy kinda weird tree hugger.

Take care of yourselves. Take care of others. Remember your ancestors. Read about history. Read about spirituality and how good it can be. Don't take my word for it, check Durkheim's theories on the importance of belief in well-being. It doesn't have to be Jesus. It can be that one tree you like to look at. It can be a rainy day or a sunny day. It can be the smell of coffee or something like that. I guess what I'm on about is that for it to be okay you need to find what makes it worthwhile for you.

It will be okay.

it will be okay.

[mechaknight-98]

Double D Dungeon Crawl (NSFW) FT Eunbi, Sejeong, Mina Kang, Somi

Operator’s Notes: I had a lot of ground to cover and tried to do capatilize as much as possible.

Disclaimer: I know none of these girls have double Ds

"Awe fuck Somi your tits are spectacular as always," Ivan says as his girlfriend casually strokes his cock with her tits.

"Are you close?" Somi asks with bright eyes hoping to get him to explode more than ever. However, their little tryst was interrupted when Ivan's alarm went off for DND.

“Oh shit, Somi, stop. I need to focus,” Ivan said, laughing as he lightly pushed her off, trying to keep his composure.

Somi pouted dramatically. “Focus? On what? Am I not enough of a distraction for you?” As she spoke she seductively juggled her tits hoping to entice Ivan to stay.

Ivan grinned, eyes still on his girlfriend. “Babe, it's Dungeons and Dragons night. Do you want to come? You’ll round out the party.”

Somi crossed her arms, tilting her head with mock suspicion. “Wait, who’s going?”

Ivan blinked, recollecting. “Uh… it’s Orion, Flint, Mina, Eunbi, and me.”

“Eunbi? Who’s that?” Somi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Oh, that’s Orion’s girlfriend,” Ivan said casually. “She’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Somi leaned closer, eyes narrowing playfully.

Ivan chuckled. “Well, Orion met her at this screening for the new season of Ultraman, right? They stayed up ‘til like 4 a.m. talking about all things tokusatsu—like the whole deep dive into its impact on anime and… their lives.”

Somi raised an eyebrow, picturing a total nerd duo. “Oh, so she’s a nerd too, huh? She’s probably super frumpy and wears those huge anime shirts.”

“Actually, no,” Ivan said, shaking his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s kinda… hot.”

Somi’s eyebrows shot up, not believing him for a second. “Hot? Really? Prove it.”

Ivan shrugged, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a photo. He handed it to her, and she blinked at the image of Orion standing with a curvy, stylish woman.

“Oh shit, good for him!” Somi said, genuinely impressed. “I was expecting glasses and an Evangelion hoodie, but damn.”

Ivan laughed. “Yeah, right? Orion kinda hit the jackpot.”

Somi handed his phone back with a smirk. “So what you’re telling me is, nerds are pulling hot people now. Is that your subtle way of telling me I’m too good for you?”

Ivan grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Nah, it’s more like I’m Orion in this situation.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And I’m Eunbi?”

“Obviously. You’re way out of my league, but somehow here you are,” he said, pulling her closer.

“Hmm, nice save.” Somi leaned into him. “Okay, fine, I’ll go. But you’re gonna have to do all the math for me, because that’s not happening.”

Ivan kissed her cheek. “Of course, babe. I got you.”

“Good. Now, when we win, I’m taking all the credit.”

Ivan chuckled, but then his face shifted as he realized something. “Oh crap, I gotta tell the group you’re coming.” He grabbed his phone and quickly started typing a message. “Sejeong and her boyfriend are gonna want to tweak the setup now.”

Somi rolled her eyes playfully. “You make it sound like they’re running a whole operation.”

Ivan grinned. “They are. You know how serious they get about this stuff.”

Somi nodded knowingly. “True, they’re like the eldest siblings of the group. Always organizing everything.”

A few moments later, Sejeong’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and smiled when she saw Ivan’s text about Somi joining the game. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” she said to herself before turning to her boyfriend, who was focused on something at the other end of the couch.

“Hey, babe,” she called over. “Can you help me with making another player character?”

He looked up, intrigued. “Who’s it for?”

“Somi.”

A grin spread across his face. “Nice. That’ll shake things up.” He thought for a second, then narrowed his brow as he began mentally drafting character ideas. “How about… three levels in Bard and three levels in Sorcerer? That way we’ve got a solid caster, and she can throw in some chaotic fun. We’ll still have enough balance with the fighters.”

Sejeong’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I like that! College of Eloquence for her Bard side and Wild Magic for Sorcerer. It’s totally her vibe.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, already imagining the wild, charismatic chaos Somi would bring to the table.

As they started refining the character, they began chatting about their friends, as they often did when planning game sessions. It was their way of making sure everyone had a good time. Sejeong had a knack for knowing just the right balance between engaging stories and letting her friends express their personalities through their characters. While her boyfriend excelled at gameplay and mechanical design.

“Orion and Flint are gonna love this,” Sejeong said, scrolling through the character stats on her tablet. “You know how they love when things get crazy.”

“Especially Flint. He thrives on unpredictability,” her boyfriend added, tweaking some numbers. “Mina’s gonna roll her eyes, though. She’s all about the strategy.”

“True,” Sejeong laughed. “But that’s why she and Eunbi will probably end up teaming up—perfect balance. Mina’s tactical, Eunbi all about the story.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, plus, Orion’s probably gonna get distracted with Eunbi half the time anyway. They’re still in that honeymoon phase.”

Sejeong smiled warmly. “It’s cute, though. Let them have their fun.”

They both exchanged a glance, the kind of shared understanding that came from years of knowing their friends’ quirks. Sejeong and her boyfriend had always been the steady presence in the group, the ones everyone could rely on. Whether it was organizing game nights, offering advice, or helping to smooth over conflicts, they were the glue holding everyone together. And for this D&D session, it was no different.

With Somi joining, they knew it was going to be a more chaotic—but fun—night, and they were ready to embrace it.

“Okay,” Sejeong said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s send this to Ivan. Somi’s about to have a blast.”

Sejeong’s boyfriend nodded then said, “Oh we gotta tell everyone Somi is coming. I'll send the info to Flint and you can send it to Orion," Sejeong nodded and watched him reach out to Flint and Mina.

A few seconds before they got the call, Mina and Flint were enjoying a quiet evening together. The warm glow from the kitchen light gave the room a soft, comfortable ambiance. Flint had just finished cooking a steak dinner, and the smell of garlic butter and rosemary filled the air.

Mina took a bite, savoring the flavors, then smiled contentedly. “This is really nice, babe,” she said, her voice full of appreciation.

Flint grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Glad you like it. Worked pretty hard on that steak, you know.”

“I can tell. It’s perfect,” Mina replied, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Flint rubbed the back of his neck, his expression softening. “Well, it’s the least I can do after making you deal with Ori and Bunny all the time.”

Mina raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look. “What do you mean by that? I love Orion and Eunbi.”

“I know, I know,” Flint said with a chuckle. “It’s just… they can be a bit much sometimes. And it doesn’t help that Sejeong and Nicky egg them on. Ori’s got this chip on his shoulder the size of a whole Pringles can, and they just… they encourage him to do crazier and crazier stuff to prove himself.”

Mina leaned back, taking another bite before responding. “Let them have their fun. Besides, that chip on Ori’s shoulder has done a lot for us. He’s helped get us out of some tight spots these last two years.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Flint asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Mina gave him a knowing smile. “Like when you got detained by the police, and Orion showed up with all the paperwork and got you out within an hour.”

Flint scratched his head, chuckling sheepishly. “Oh, right. I guess he’s not all that bad, then. But you gotta admit, the guy’s always desperate for a win. Any challenge that comes his way, he’s gotta take it. And now with Bunny egging him on, it’s like they’re in some competition 24/7.”

Mina shrugged, her tone soft and understanding. “But that’s why they work so well together, don’t you think? They believe in each other so much, they think they can do anything. And look at them—they’ve made it happen. He pushes her, and she pushes him. He helped her win with her acting, and she helped him land that great job.”

Flint let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the chair. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I just wish they could turn it off sometimes, you know? Not everything’s a game to be won.”

Mina smiled fondly. “True, but then they wouldn’t be the Ori and Bunny we love.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound between them as they enjoyed their dinner. The evening felt peaceful, warm—a quiet moment that reminded them why they worked so well as a couple. Flint’s thoughtfulness, Mina’s easygoing nature—it all blended perfectly, creating a relaxed space where they could just be themselves.

As they were finishing up, Mina’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and squealed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Flint glanced up, amused by her reaction. “What is it, babe?”

Mina grinned, looking up from her phone. “Somi’s joining us for D&D tonight!”

“Oh, word? That’s great,” Flint said, leaning back with a smile. “It’ll be like a mini I.O.I reunion.”

“Yessir,” Mina said, still buzzing with excitement. “This is gonna be fun.”

Flint chuckled, seeing how happy she was. He loved these moments—just the two of them, enjoying a quiet evening, sharing excitement about something as simple as a game. It was in these little moments that he felt most connected to her.

Moving back to Sejeong and Nicky they are getting ready with the last few touches to Somi's character sheet, when they remembered they forgot to tell Orion and Bunny. Nicky makes the call.

The sound of rapid button-mashing filled the room as Orion and Eunbi faced off in their latest match of Persona 4 Arena Ultimax. Both were completely focused, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screen.

“C’mon, you really think you can take me down?” Orion teased, not looking away from the action. his hands dances around the top of his hitbox like a delicate dancers or the practiced measure of a trained pianist.

Eunbi shot him a sidelong glance, fingers moving furiously across the controller. “Please, I’m about to wipe the floor with you. You just wait.”

The match was close, each of them going through their block strings trying to crack the other's defensive options and abilities. The tension between them was palpable, but it was playful, electric—both a challenge and an invitation.

Just as Eunbi’s character moved in for what she thought was a finishing blow, Orion grinned. “Too slow.”

He executed a perfect counter, watching as her health bar dropped to zero. The words K.O. flashed across the screen.

“What the hell!” Eunbi shouted, throwing her hands up as Orion burst into laughter.

“Victory is mine!” Orion crowed, leaning back against the couch with a smug grin. he cracked his knuckles with a relaxed ease.

Eunbi narrowed her eyes, not at all fazed by the loss. “Alright, big shot, that was pure luck. Rematch. You’re going down this time.”

“Oh, you think so?” Orion shifted closer, his voice dropping as he playfully taunted her. “You really think you can handle me, babe?”

Eunbi raised an eyebrow, leaning in to match his energy. “Please, I think I can do more than handle you. Just watch.”

For a second, their eyes locked, and the air between them sparked. Their teasing was more than just competition—it was the way they communicated, the way they challenged and pushed each other, both in games and in life. Every match was a test of will, but also a way to get closer. In this heat, they kissed, as their passion melted shifted from the game to just the love of each other.

But just as the heat was beginning to light, Orion’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Eunbi groaned as Orion broke the kiss, rolling her eyes. “You better not answer that.”

Orion glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “It’s Nicky. I gotta pick up—could be about the D&D game tonight.”

She sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Fine. But you owe me a rematch after this.”

“Deal,” Orion said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before answering the phone. “Yo, Nicky, what’s up?”

Nicky’s excited voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey, just wanted to update you. Somi’s joining us tonight for the session. Sejeong and I just finished her character sheet a few minutes ago.”

Orion glanced at Eunbi, already imagining the chaos that Somi would bring to the game. “Oh man, Somi, huh? This is gonna be… interesting.”

“Yeah, buckle up, because we are doing a mega dungeon crawl tonight. See you tonight,” Nick added before hanging up.

Orion set the phone down and grinned at Eunbi. “Looks like we’ve got a wild card tonight. You ready for some chaos?”

Eunbi smirked, grabbing her controller again. “Oh, I was born ready. But first, I’m kicking your ass in this rematch.”

Orion laughed, already leaning in for round two. “Let’s see if you can back up that talk, Eunbi.”

And with that, they dove back into the game, the competitive energy between them as strong as ever, their passion fueled by every challenge thrown their way. After finishing up another set their alarm to leave went off, and they decided to finally get ready to go to Sejeong, and Nicky's home. On the way the grabbed pizza for everyone.  

the couple neared the door and Ori turned to Eunbi"you ready?" Orion asks Eunbi as he carries the pizzas inside.

"Always. New Campaign new me." Eunbi replies confident. Orion nods and follows her in as she holds the door open for them as he sets the pizzas down.

"Yay you brought food." Somi said excitedly before going up to Ori and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Eunbi glared subtly at the gesture before moving between the two "So you must be Somi. Ivan's girlfriend." she said coldly

Somi nodded before tilting her head noticing Eunbi’s Evangelion hoodie.

It did little to hide her figure but it brought Hyewob more in line with Somi's mental picture of her.

"Yep that's me Ivan's best girl," Somi said happily. Ivan has told me a little bit about you but I am curious. How did you get into this kind of stuff,"

Eunbi still dealing with her surging jealousy, gripped Orion tight, "Well Ori invited me a few weeks ago and Sejeong and Nicky have been super kind. so I stayed."

Somi smiled, "Yeah that's our leader, always so kind."

after that, everyone gets their character sheets and settles in.

"You all awake in a tavern," Sejeong says but is interrupted by a knock on the door. Sejeong gestures for Ori to open it and is surprised to see Mordenkainen.

As Orion got up to open the door, the atmosphere shifted, and everyone looked on with curiosity. He swung the door open, expecting maybe one of their friends to arrive late—but instead, a figure in long, flowing robes with a shock of white hair stood there, eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill through the room. It was Mordenkainen himself, looming in the doorway with an expression of absolute outrage.

“Oh…wow,” Orion stammered, trying to hold onto his usual bravado. “Uh…can we help you?”

Mordenkainen's gaze swept across the room, his intense eyes narrowing. "You… you have the audacity to play a game based on the lives of my friends and family? This is no laughing matter!"

The group exchanged confused glances. Nicky, who was co-DMing with Sejeong, took a deep breath, trying to regain some control. “Um, sir, we’re just… we’re playing a friendly game. This is just D&D, you know?”

Mordenkainen stepped inside, his robes swishing as he approached the center of the room, his voice resonant and thunderous. “A game? This… trivialization of my world—of the worlds beyond yours—is disgraceful! You mock battles that tore through realms, people who fought for their lives, stories bound by sacrifice. And you reduce it to dice and… pizza?”

Eunbi snorted, half amused, trying to hold back a laugh, but a sharp glance from Mordenkainen silenced her. Even Orion, usually the bold one, shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Listen,” Flint began, trying to reason with the imposing figure, “we’re not trying to insult anyone. We’re just… inspired by your world. It’s kind of a compliment?”

“Compliment?” Mordenkainen bellowed. He raised a hand, and with a snap of his fingers, the lights flickered, the walls trembled, and a portal swirled into existence, casting an eerie blue light across the room.

Sejeong, who’d been completely silent, finally found her voice, “Okay, hold on. No need for drastic measures. We’ll… uh… stop playing? We don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, you’ll stop playing,” Mordenkainen said, a dangerous glint in his eye, “because you’ll be living it.”

With a wave of his hand, a flash of blinding light filled the room. Everyone felt a rush of wind and a strange tingling sensation as if they were being pulled apart and reassembled at the same time.

When the light faded, they found themselves sprawled on the ground, groggy and disoriented, their clothing now replaced with fantastical garb. Orion glanced down at his attire, light armor with a scary-looking axe strapped to his back. Eunbi stood beside him, equally stunned, decked out in flowing robes adorned with ancient symbols.

“Wait… are we… are we in the game?” Somi asked, staring in awe at her new mage’s robes, a staff clutched in her hand.

Ivan, looking down at the armor that replaced his jeans and T-shirt, could only stammer, “This… this can’t be real. This… has to be a prank, right?”

Sejeong checked herself over, now clad in the resplendent armor she’d always envisioned for her character, a high-ranking cleric. She looked at Nicky, who was equally stunned, holding a bard’s lute.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, realization dawning. “This is real. We’re actually in the game.”

Mordenkainen’s voice echoed in their minds, seemingly coming from the sky itself, “Perhaps now, you’ll understand the gravity of the worlds you toy with. Prove yourselves worthy, and maybe—maybe—you’ll find a way home. Fail, and you’ll be trapped here as characters in this world forever.”

The group exchanged a mix of terrified and exhilarated glances, the reality of their situation beginning to sink in. Flint and Mina stood close together while Ori held his head as a headache started ringing in his ears. Eunbi approached him concerned. He winced when she touched his head as visions of gods and monsters swam through his head.

Taking charge he said firmly, “We should probably find the nearest town and find lodging before the night comes. The party nodded as they headed in the direction of smoke. That smoke led them to a town being overrun by skeletons resurrected by the evil Lich Nevinyrral. The group was first attacked but a quick reaction from Sejeong she took out a holy symbol and the skeletons turned away expeditiously… or they would if it weren't for the radiant glowing Orion who slammed into another one and crushed another with his mighty great axe. He was able to clean up the rest as he turned the skeletons to dust. They noticed a dual inscription on it but none of them (except Ori) spoke or read the language.

After the battle, the remaining townspeople praised the heroes. They stood wary of Ori however due to his scarred face and body until the rest pushed him to the front.

"You saved us Why?" the mayor asked wary of the Scourge Aasimar with Dark red spots covering his body.

"Well we needed lodging and food for the night before we continue our journey. that's kinda hard when everyone is dead." Ori said.

The mayor laughed and said, "Well at least you all are practical. If you're not to opposed the church house can serve as your base of operations. if you so chose, since our god has abandoned us. We will bring food for you as well." The group noded then headed to the house of the Jade Seraph. the approach the church house solemnly, but as soon As Ori enters. He sees visions of more gods and battles causing him to collapse.

As their characters' memories merge with theirs Eunbi speaks up, "He's getting worse. What do we do?" Sejeong sighs and does another calm emotion spell on Ori hopefully stopping the progress of his ailment at least a little bit.

"We better find that Mage fast!" Flint asserts. Mina, Somi and Ivan nod before all finding places in the monastery. Ori finds a quiet corner to sleep in away from the group.

After settling in at the Jade Seraph’s monastery, Mina and Flint exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that they needed to get out for a bit. Flint leaned in close, whispering, “Let’s take a walk around the town. Maybe we can find out more about this world we’re stuck in—and get some alone time too.”

Mina smiled and nodded. She grabbed his hand as they slipped quietly out of the church house, leaving the others to recover and set up.

Outside, the town was still tense but slowly beginning to relax after the recent skeleton attack. Torches lined the cobblestone streets, and a few market stalls were cautiously reopening, their owners eyeing the streets warily, but there was a hopeful buzz in the air after the group’s intervention. The cool evening air and the faint smell of wood smoke brought a sense of calm to Flint and Mina as they wandered hand in hand.

They stopped at a small food stall run by an elderly woman selling what looked like hot skewers of spiced meat. Flint bought a couple, handing one to Mina with a warm smile. She took a bite, eyes lighting up as the taste hit her. “Wow, this is… actually really good,” she said, savoring the smoky, peppery flavors.

Flint laughed. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect food to taste this good here either. But I’ll take it. Now, if only we could figure out how long we’re going to be here…”

Just then, a tall, cloaked figure approached the stall, catching their attention. Flint subtly pulled Mina a bit closer as the figure ordered in a low, gravelly voice. Curious and cautiously friendly, Mina leaned toward him. “Excuse me, sir. We’re… new in town. Could you tell us what’s been going on here?”

The figure turned, revealing the face of a battle-worn man with a weary expression. He looked them up and down, nodding. “You’re not from these parts, are you? I can tell by your garb.” He cleared his throat and continued, “This town has been plagued by the dark magic of Nevinyrral. He’s a lich who’s been terrorizing the villages on the outskirts for years now, resurrecting the dead to do his bidding. Every few months, he sends his skeletons to wreak havoc and remind us of his power.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “And… the gods? We heard the people talking about a god abandoning the town.”

The man spat on the ground bitterly. “The Jade Seraph, our patron godess, hasn’t answered our prayers for years. Some say she’s left us for good, while others whisper she’s been captured by Nevinyrral himself, his powers drained for dark purposes.”

Flint’s hand tightened around Mina’s. “Do you know of anyone in town who might be able to help us? Someone with knowledge of the gods, or perhaps even magic?”

The man glanced around cautiously, then nodded. “Seek out Elara, the town’s herbalist and a follower of the Old Ways. She has knowledge of magic—more than she lets on. You’ll find her on the edge of the forest, near the willow grove. But be careful. She doesn’t trust strangers.”

“Thank you,” Mina said, dipping her head in gratitude. She exchanged a look with Flint, excitement and apprehension in her eyes. “We’ve got a lead now,” she murmured as they continued walking.

As they made their way to the forest’s edge, the town’s rustic charm was replaced by an eerie quiet. Shadows danced beneath the trees as they approached a small, ivy-covered cottage with lanterns lighting a narrow path. Inside, Elara was mixing herbs when she noticed them standing hesitantly at her door.

“Strangers,” she said, her tone wary but intrigued. “You seek answers. Why?”

Flint stepped forward. “We’re not from here. We were… brought to this world by magic, and now we’re looking for a way to go back. But it seems there’s more going on here than we realized. We want to understand this place, to help where we can.”

Elara’s gaze softened. “If you wish to learn, then enter. But understand that knowledge here often comes with a price.” She motioned them inside, and they followed her, exchanging a brief, reassuring look.

The air inside the cottage was thick with the scent of herbs and old parchment. Elara gestured for them to sit, and as she began to tell them more about the lich, the town’s lost god, and the ancient magic that bound their world, Mina and Flint listened intently, feeling as if the pieces of a larger puzzle were finally beginning to fall into place.

For the first time since they’d arrived, they felt a glimmer of hope—not only that they might find a way home, but that they could make a difference here, maybe even defeat Nevinyrral himself.

As Mina and Flint slipped out, the remaining group settled into the dimly lit corners of the monastery. Ori sat by one of the worn pews, his back against the cold stone wall, looking drained and uneasy. Eunbi noticed him from across the room, a thoughtful look on her face. After a few quiet moments, she made her way over to him, sitting down beside him and resting her hand on his.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “How’s the head?”

Ori exhaled, his gaze fixed on the dusty wooden floor. “Feels like I’ve been caught in a storm I can’t see. Visions, memories that aren’t mine… They just keep flooding in.” He looked at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and something else—fear. “Bunny, I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

She reached out, gently cupping his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “We’re here, Ori. Right here, together. That’s real.”

He leaned into her touch, a small measure of comfort slipping through the tension he was holding onto. “It’s not just the visions,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I feel… different. Stronger, but also… angry. Like there’s something in me I can’t control.” He clenched his fists, and for a second, they glowed with a faint, radiant energy before dimming again. “It’s like I’m becoming something else.”

Eunbi laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand firmly. “I get it. I don’t have whatever this new power is like you do, but I feel like… part of me is changing here, too.” She paused, her own vulnerability showing. “Being here, seeing you go through this… It makes me think about what we have. What if we don’t get back home? What if this is all we’ve got?”

Ori looked at her, eyes softening. “Then… we’ll make this place ours. If this is where we’re meant to be, we’ll find a way to live and be happy, no matter what.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering. “But if we get back, I want to make sure I don’t leave anything unsaid. I don’t want to waste time, not with you.”

Eunbi’s breath hitched, and she held his gaze. “Me neither,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to his shoulder as she leaned in. “I don’t want to hold back anymore, Ori. Not in here, and not out there.”

They shared a kiss, soft and lingering, a grounding force in the whirlwind of uncertainty. For that brief moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth between them, a promise that even in this strange, unfamiliar place, they had each other.

When they pulled back, Ori sighed, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Whatever happens, Bunny… you and me, we’ll face it together. I promise.”

She nodded, her expression resolute. “Together.” Ori nodded as Eunbi brought him in for a kiss. her hands cupped his face gently as they kissed again. Eunbi smiled.

"You smell so nice. Like Oranges Vanilla ice cream" she said. Ori smiled as they kissed, again. his hands found purchase on her chest.

"No matter the world you still drive me crazy, and I love you," Ori said.

Eunbi smiled as she undid her armor and dress before saying, "prove it."

Sejeong and Nicky settled by a low fire in the monastery’s quietest corner, their voices hushed. Nicky leaned in close, his expression tense. “We really need to talk about Ori’s backstory. If we’re actually in this world, then… well, his 'Creator' might actually exist out here, and he could be looking for him.” Sejeong looked over at Ori, who was resting uneasily in a far corner, shrouded in shadows. “You mean the necroalchemist,” she whispered. “The one obsessed with ascension? With turning one of his creations into a god?” “Yeah,” Nicky nodded, his voice barely audible. “Remember, Ori was his closest success. He wasn’t just made; he was made to be perfect, to force a kind of unnatural divine evolution.” Nicky’s voice grew even lower. “If the Creator is here, he’ll be hell-bent on finishing what he started.” Sejeong shivered, the weight of the situation sinking in. “So if Ori’s backstory holds true here, it’s not just a dangerous world—it’s a hostile one. One that might see him as either a target or as a prized possession. We’re going to have to protect him, and… well, he’s going to have to face things he never signed up for.” Nicky nodded slowly, his eyes on Ori, the weight of their shared responsibility settling on them both. “We’ll watch his back. But we need to prepare him too… there are things even he doesn’t know about his origin, and if we don’t tell him soon, the truth might catch up with him before he’s ready.” Sejeong clenched her jaw, steeling herself. “Alright. When the time comes, we’ll make sure he knows.”

[secretress]

A message you may need to hear.

★ Masterlist.

Manifestation is easy. 444.

Manifesting is so easy. It really is. I have seen others struggle tremendously with manifesting what they have wanted for so long. Others will follow others in hopes they can get what they want, forgetting that what works for someone else may not work for you. Some people blame things (themselves or others) for not being able to manifest. People join communities in hopes it will help. People believe you have to heal your shadow self, your trauma, and so forth to manifest. But that’s not necessary.

You do not need to heal to manifest. You do not have to do anything to manifest. It may seem impossible right now, but it is simple. Why make things a challenge for you? Why go through all of these steps and methods? Because your dreams seem impossible? Did people tell you it was impossible? Did your fears and doubts say so? Did society push you to believe it’s impossible? Truly.

Manifesting happens all the time. Everything we do, we manifest. If you work hard for something, like studying for an exam, you will manifest a good grade through your hard work. Manifesting has a bad reputation, and people have become triggered easily because of it. But you must remember that manifest is just a word. It’s just there. So are you. You are just there.

What I mean is that you can manifest anything by doing the things that work for you. What has worked for you before? For me. I will not do anything but stay consistent with my subliminals. That’s it. I don’t do affirmations throughout the day, I don’t change my thoughts, I don’t use methods or techniques. Why should I if it doesn’t work for me? So instead of engrossing yourself with what works FOR OTHERS. Focus on what works best for you.

If you don’t know what works best for you, then take a break from the concept of manifestation and breathe. Learn to adapt to the world as it is and before you found manifestation. And then welcome life as it is.

We cannot always control everything. Always controlling everything will make you go mad. Do you want to become the joker? Go mad because he lost his family, or perhaps that seems ideal? I think a lot of people who are not secure with themselves and their ideals will lose themselves in the process of this. And that is the problem.

—

When people say, “I don’t have to do anything, I can manifest anything.” Or, “I manifest easily without lifting a finger.” In a way, it’s the truth. You do not have to do anything to manifest what you want. You can even say what you want and it will happen.

For example, I can say, “I wish to be happier.” And now it will happen. Why? Because it is bound to happen. Saying our wishes shows vulnerability, and showing vulnerability to yourself makes it easier to get what we desire. It’s not about quantum physics, the universe, any religion and their higher beings, etc., it’s about you. Manifesting is just you. It really is. You can manifest anything because you are always manifesting. Again. We always manifest without doing anything.

I say this because you need to hear it. You have the power to manifest anything you want, BUT you have to do it the way that works BEST for you. When you stop stressing yourself out about this, ask yourself what works best for you or has in the past.

I know that sometimes our curiosity can ruin us and make us spiral into the world of “what manifestation really is,” but you have to remind yourself that this is not curiosity. It is you sabotaging yourself. If you know you can manifest easily, why learn how to “actually” do it? It doesn’t make sense.

Genuine question: what makes it fun to sabotage yourself? When you get stuck in a community, you assume they are there to help, but then fail to realize they are making you obsessive about something so easy. It’s so easy. It’s just easy. Easy. Easy. Easy. That is what they keep saying, so why is it so hard for you?

Because. You. Are. Not. Doing. It. Your. Way.

The best way to manifest is.. doing. It. Your. Way. That’s it.

Channeled song.

Bohemian Rhapsody (Song by Queen)

[nicosraf]

It's my birthday! And Angels Before Man's second birthday from the original publishing! And almost three years since the original draft of it! Wow! Thank you all a million times for being here. Really, genuinely

I'd like for this extremely long post to be happier ! But a lot of people are really troubled by the United States election. There's a lot of fear-mongering online about what'll happen and a lot of real threats to marginalized people in the U.S. and abroad. I don't talk about my own identities a ton. I'm a gay, trans, Mexican from the US-Mex border. The vast majority of my family, community, and friends are immigrants of varying legal statuses. I could lose everything!! I fear for my family! My friends! For my body and my heart!

My mom called me yesterday morning, though, basically asking for an explanation. She told me she was shocked, she was scared, and I said that so was I, then we said, "Pos ni modo." Ni modo!! Oh well!!! What can we do now? We can keep doing what we've always done. Survive. That's all you really have to do at the end of the day, you know, survive.

My family is from a rough Mexican city that fell apart when I was little, a place where my own family has been kidnapped and bodies have been left mutilated in the street for everyone to see. The radio spoke in code to let you know not to go outside when things got really bad. There used to be mariachis in the street to greet American tourists but by the time I was little, they were mostly gone. Boarded up, abandoned stores and boarded up, abandoned homes. I remember being scared, and I remember not knowing what to do listening to a shoot out right outside. I remember my heart stopping when my family was stopped by the soldiers and they demanded money out of us for the first time.

(And I can talk also about living on the other side. The hyper policing, ICE, the racism when my school played against other schools, my parents forbidding me from speaking Spanish outside our Mexican enclave and to stay close to them, and I can talk about the aggression from the white nuns at my catholic school toward the latino kids, I can talk about having to see the border patrol every day just to go to school, I can even talk about Trump-supporters coming down to the border and making a mess of the place and I can talk and I can talk but why? what for??)

My family is all (mostly) still around. I'm here also. We're still here. All of that horrible stuff happened and is still happening to us y ni modo!! Ni modo ! The fight continues. You'll be fine if you allow yourself to be, and if you're not, then you really gave it your best shot, and the people around you will see that you did.

I know for a lot of people there might be the urge to spiral into doom and grieve, but you don't need to borrow the grief of the future. Today you can get up and roll up your sleeves and clean the house. That's what my parents tell me to do when I'm sad. Ponte a limpiar. Ponte a trabajar. I used to get mad at them for it, but in the end, you're only in charge of yourself and the places/things that you upkeep.

I was raised around nopales (prickly pear cacti) and, many years ago, I threw one out of my parent's house because I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't want it. I figured it'd get eaten by something or die somehow. The nopal started growing instead, and it's still there. It even grew a flower, though it hasn't given us a pear yet. My dad doesn't like the pears/tuna but my mom does, so we went out to check on it and while we were there, we heard a bird singing. He looked up and he told me it was a cenzontle and that it was singing a little song for the nopal. I had this thought about how even though I basically tried to kill it, the nopal was growing, thriving. it's an easy metaphor to make, but the earth gives you simple lessons sometimes.

(The monarchs pass by every year. They don't even do it legally. They cut the border line and don't wait their turn to talk to the Customs guys!!! They just fly overhead then look back at us like we're crazy. How can we explain this to them? How do I tell them that there's a place that hates us both)

All you have to do is survive. Whatever happens to me or my family or my friends, we will find a way to grow and find birds to sing along with. If there's so much grief in the future, then we can grieve when that time comes. In other words, canta y no llores. All you have to do is survive. Take it hour by the hour. Pick up the broom and get to work while you can.

Because I've talked too much, I wanted to remind everyone that my ebooks versions of my writing will always be free to read.

Maybe it'll come as a shock to you that a lot of ABM was about coping with losing a home forever, of remembering the feeling of wall paint that you will never feel again. But it's about survival too. I hope you all take care of yourselves as much as we can. This isn't a sad post! Go out and enjoy what you have! Go for a snack. Protect yourself however youre able to. I'm so lucky to have a birthday, to have lived this long. I hope my work will live on no matter how much the world might despise it. I've survived this far despite the world too, and so will ABM... I hope ! :)