#like i do like the guy and since ive been mentally in the same place as him

[glamournessmygod]

hot take but while i get joost being upset about people posting his old stuff and bothering him, it's not like he is the first or last that this is happening to. i know that with kpop and the world post-covid things have gotten worse fandom-wise, but there have always been groupies and weirdos. him just saying "please stop" will definitely not make them stop. the people who are decent feel guilty but the people who aren't will just keep doing their thing. imo the only thing he can do is limit his social media consumption and stop being so personal in his live shows. i know he probably says it with his heart, but saying stuff like "i love you" and being extremely personal doesn't help. i've been noticing his behaviours in lives and treating them like some sort of alternative therapy isn't the solution. random strangers won't start being kinder to him just because he said so and he shouldn't expect this to happen either.

[zooone]

NEW FRIEND REQUEST FROM: SATORU GOJO ?!

in which ?! - your annoying neighbor messes up your study plans. and it just so happens that the rich boy next to you in class is also annoying. when you fail a test one day, he's there to help.

words ?! - 4.5k

warnings and content ?! - fluff, swearing, a couple of tiny innuendos if you squint, satoru is a BITCH!, you have a bit of a mental breakdown, 2010 au, satoru calls reader "sweets", no curses au

an ?! - WE ARE SOOOO BACK!!!! its been a year since ive written, and this one was definitely quite the warm up but im so excited to be back ^w^ thanks to @melancholiaincarnate for beta reading!!!

masterlist ?!

she bounced her leg. she looked around. she took a whiff of her candle. she flipped a page.

anything, anything to void the terribly loud sounds of the tv next door.

what an absolutely prime time to be watching tv at max volume, at 11 pm the day before a crucial test. it was terrible. and worse of all, it sounded like digimon. who the fuck watches digimon in college?

it sounded like he had people over too, and though she could only hear a couple voices, they were loud as hell.

turning back to her work, she put her palms against her temples. none of it made sense. none of it. everything always made sense to her. and this pissed her off.

"oh come on!" she could hear through the walls, a man with a whiny voice. watching digimon. rather than her notes, all she could think of was how immature her neighbor was.

she took her textbook, slamming it against the thin walls so hard she thought there'd be a hole. then she'd really have to hear them.

the other side grew quiet, all except for a "whoooooopsie daisy" from the same whiny voice.

was he 13?

meanwhile, the three lounged on the couch. popcorn was spilled all over the floor (due to satoru's inability to sit still), but they all knew that satoru would have to be the one to ultimately clean it. it was his place, after all.

"maybe you should turn the tv down," suguru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"no way! this is the best part of the episode!" satoru whined, gesturing a hand to the thick tv.

"you say that about every scene. just turn it down before your neighbor sends a noise complaint."

"psh. no way dude. she'd never." he snorts, laying back on the couch. manspreading. like two other people aren't next to him.

shoko chimes in, "what, do you know her or something?"

"nah, no clue what she looks like. but i hear those informational tv shows coming from her dorm every once in a while." he shakes his head like its funny. "anyone who watches those kinds of things won't have the balls to tattle."

"what, as opposed to tough guys like you who watch digimon in college?" suguru scoffs. his legs are actually together like a gentleman. wether or not that was due to the lack of space.

"exactly." and satoru yawns with a frown. he's gotten in trouble with his neighbors so many times that he didn't care anymore. he probably should've been kicked out, but instead they moved him around. which is why he was here now. tv blasting digimon right next to his studying classmate.

the same classmate who'll come to school looking like a tornado flew by, dropping her books down on the desk with a hefty sigh like they weighed as much as her.

"sheesh. you look like a mess." satoru chimes, gazing her figure up and down slowly behind his tinted glasses. however, she could sense his bright eyes without even having to look. "rough night, huh? what's the guy's name?"

"shut up," she scowls, knocking his arm out from behind her chair. he lets out a small pout.

"ouch. that hurt." he shakes his hand, pretending to soothe the pain of his imaginary bruise. "i was just asking a genuine question."

"i wasn't with anyone, satoru, i was studying." she sighs, picking at the skin on her lips. a bad habit she's had since she was little.

"lame." he whined, stretching the 'a' out.

"we have a test today!"

"oh, do we? shucks."

of course satoru gojo didn't have to study. of course satoru gojo spent his night with a woman (probably). of course satoru gojo yawned when the test was being passed out. because he didn't need to study. he was one of the many, many people who was able to get into the college because of status and money. the direct counterpart of her.

she got in through scholarships and grades after having come from a lesser background. she worked hard to be there, unlike satoru and the rest of the school. everyone around her had a stench of expensive cologne. thank goodness for uniforms, otherwise her lower status would be immediately revealed.

not like it wasn't obvious already. everyone was already in their own separate group, leaving her in the dust. which is why she allowed satoru gojo to bother her in class. without him, the only time she would talk was to answer questions.

she was so lost in thought she didn't realize she was staring at him.

"what, d'ya need the answers or something?" satoru giggled in a whisper. the smirk on his face was absolutely unbelievable.

she knitted her eyebrows, turning herself towards her paper. "n-no, just thinking."

"all that studying just for you to think. what a shame."

even through his fucking whisper she could hear the cockiness in his voice. it was so natural for him to just think of things to piss her off. if there wasn't a test, she would be imagining all the ways she would kill satoru gojo.

he was so smug. too smug. and even after the test is over, he would still be,

outright smug.

he stretched his legs out over the desk, shoe almost touching her pencil. his shoe alone probably costed more than she makes in a year. "that was pretty easy, huh?"

no, no it wasn't.

"yeah, for sure." she lied through her teeth. no. she wanted to take her pencil and gouge her eyes out. she wanted to rip all her hair off and eat it. satoru better have been lying.

"i don't get why you studied so much. that was easy as hell." he pouted, twirling his pencil in his hands like it was a graceful ribbon. "besides, why were you studying that late?"

"because i actually care about my grades!" she argued, scowling at him through narrow eyes. she wanted nothing more than to pass that test and slap the stupid grin off his face.

"i know that," he whined. "i meant why were you studying late?"

"i-i don't follow."

satoru laughed, muttering something under his breath about how clueless she was before shaking his head. "i mean, you're a good girl. you don't go out, you have a list and schedule for everything, you make sure you get tons of sleep. so what was wrong with last night?"

what?

was he being nice? and how did he catch all that?

she faltered from responding for a little bit, waiting for the usual punchline to hit. but it never did. he just sat there, genuinely asking.

"u-uh, my neighbor." she spoke slowly, as if anticipating his snarky reply. nothing. "for some reason he thinks its funny to watch digimon on full blast at night."

satoru's eyes widened before he let out a guilty chuckle. she didn't understand what was so humorous to him, but he could make a joke out of anything.

"oh," he giggled. "what an idiot, heh."

"yeah." she looked at him skeptically. no punchline yet. but he looked like he knew something she didn't. surely (hopefully) it wasn't the answers to that test.

later that night, she would go to her dorm, bringing out her keys labeled "365". she pushed the door open and dove face first into her couch. curling up against one of her throw pillows, she lazily grabbed the remote.

looks like it'll be another informational tv show tonight. just something to fill the room and make things seem less lonely. sometimes she envied her loud, annoying neighbor because at least he had friends to be loud with. and she was simply just lonely.

the sounds of the tv show bounced off the walls of her empty dorm. there was a bit of furniture, but definitely not the stuff that she'd dreamed about ever since she was little. this was her dream college, something that motivated her ever since she had the realization she could pick any college throughout the whole world. but,

picking and dreaming was easy. earning the right to go there was not.

one of the terms of her scholarships was to keep up her good grades. and although that was a habit of hers throughout the years, the burnout was reaching her. slowly but surely,

until it all crashed down.

she hadn't even noticed she was crying until she realized the dark tear stains on the throw pillow. the tv show still played, something about some sort of rare animal in its habitat, but she paid no mind. it was just noise to drown out her tears.

she would end up falling asleep on the couch. waking up the next morning, late due to her phone's alarm being buried and muffled in her bag.

and for the second time in a row, she would come to class looking like a mess. an utter mess.

"woah girl," satoru spoke, putting his hands up in a sort of surrender as she slammed her belongings down. "you okay?

she wasn't prepared for this. for the tests to be handed back, for satoru's annoying fucking voice, none of it.

"im fine, satoru!" it accidentally came out worse than intended.

"bad sleep again?" he asked, with genuine worry and confusion in his tone. he wasn't even watching tv that night.

"its none of your business." she set her head down, tears already beginning to swell in her eyes. no. not here, not now, please.

instead of a reply, satoru put his hand on her back. he didn't force it, he did it slow enough to the point that she could shake his hand off if she wanted to. but she didn't. she stayed still.

he took that as permission to pat her back, and his touch surprisingly gentle. in any other circumstance she would be flipping out, screaming right at his face to leave her alone (despite wanting the opposite), but that didn't happen. she welcomed his touch,

his strangely familiar, natural touch.

as if on cue, the papers were passed back. and satoru's face scrunched up when he saw multiple red marks bleed through to the other side of her paper.

"hey, maybe you should-" but it was too late. she lifted her head, turning the paper over and,

she failed.

she failed.

and suddenly the dam holding her raging emotions had fully, fully cracked. all she could do was cry.

the red marks immediately bled throughout the paper as her tears weakened into the test. she crumpled it in her hands, feeling her nails pierce through the paper and into her palms- crescent shaped marks going through both of them.

and the worst part? she looked up. she looked up at satoru's flawless paper and saw he passed.

he passed.

she failed.

he swallowed his saliva, feeling his mouth go dry. a juxtaposition to her drenched paper. "hey, i - you-"

"i know-" she sniffled, "excuse me."

and even through shameful tears, she still showed manners. she stood up and left the classroom. she didn't know where she was going at all. she just wanted to leave.

leave the building, leave the school.

but her legs betrayed her, buckling underneath her as her lungs tried to catch up to her. it felt like her insides were scratching out her throat. and as if on perfect arrival, satoru tried to catch her.

key word; tried.

the sheer force of her fall made him tumble back as well, and she ended up on top of him. and on complete instinct, she curled up in his arms.

"oh, sweets - 's okay -"

"its not - its not -" she repeated, through heaving breaths.

but he wrapped his arms around her as tight as he could, rocking back and forth on the gross school floor as if a mother rocking a child. he pressed her ear right against his heart, where she heard a soft drumbeat. something to fill the space.

"its all okay, sweets. its all okay." he whispered, careful not to startle her. "y'hear me?"

"y-yeah-"

"no, d'you hear my heartbeat? listen." and she did, absentmindedly copying his deep breaths. her lips tingled with how dry her mouth was, but she was now able to think.

she was tired. she was just so immensely tired. she nearly fell asleep in his arms with his heartbeat.

"thats it, sweets, thats it." he looked down, sweeping hair from her heavy eyes. he wiped a tear from her cheek.

"i-i messed up your uniform -" was all she could say, being in the arms of the last person she expected. even through tears, all she could think of was the expensive uniform.

"thats okay. i have plenty more."

of course. of course, satoru gojo could just buy a new uniform. of course satoru gojo just had to be smart and rich. he didn't have to study at all. and he still did better-

"whatcha thinking about?" he snapped her from her thoughts. and looking up at his hypnotizing blue eyes, she couldn't feel any more rage in her system. she was tired.

"nothing." she wiped another tear, sadly laughing at how pathetic she felt.

"how about we take a little walk?" he smiled, his canines showing.

on the other hand, she frowned. "what about th-the lesson?"

"oh, nonsense, sweets." he laughed with such confidence. but his voice lacked a mocking tone to it. "y'already know all of it. i'm sure. you're a smart girl."

and before she could sit and ponder that, he stood up. he lifted her up with such ease, adding a little "upsie daisy" to his action. in fact, he did it with such force that she crashed into his chest.

"easy, girl," he giggled softly, looking at her with such tenderness (despite lifting her like a feather). she glared up at him. "there she is. c'mon, lets go."

their "little walk" would turn into a walk around the entire city. she barely had both the time and energy to have a big long walk, but satoru made it possible.

"oh jeez, walk fast, walk fast," he giggled, a hand on her back as he speed-walked past multiple stores.

"what, do you get nervous around kfc or something?" she found it hard to walk at his rate, her legs still a little wobbly and her eyes still puffy. but she smiled.

"what? nah.. why would i be.." he pouted. at this time, she would be sitting on her couch with an informational tv show playing. but now, she was sleepily smiling alongside satoru gojo. who knew.

"i don't know, maybe you're scared of colonel sanders." she snickered. the thought of it was funny.

"y-yeah. totally."

they had passed multiple stores, the lights in them illuminating the night. she had refrained from window shopping too much, as she knew she wouldn't be able to afford any of it. but one of them was just irresistible.

"look at that dress," she whispered. and even though it was to herself, satoru saw the stars in her eyes as she gazed at it through the window. by the time she could look back at him, he was already in the store, smiling and gesturing at her to follow.

and she did, reluctantly.

"this one?" he picked up the dress from the hanger, taking a look at the fabric and pattern to it. "it is pretty. you have good taste, sweets."

her face went oddly warm at that one.

"and its perfect in time for fall," he continued analyzing the dress, putting it up to her body trying to imagine how she'd look. "go try it on."

"w-what? but -" she tried to grab the dress to look at the price tag. "how much -"

"c'mon, less talking and more changing!" he put his hand on her back again, leading her towards the changing rooms. a smile rested on his face like it was his default. "hey, could'ya do me a favor, sweets?"

"yeah, whats up?" she looked at the dress in her hands. and he slowly, slowly leaned down towards her, his breath close to her neck. it sent dangerous shivers down her spine.

"don't look at the price tag, alright? thats my only rule, heh."

she did as told, entering the changing room and avoiding the price hesitantly. part of her instincts wanted to check, but she refrained.

god, had she really cried that hard? her eyes were still red and puffy and her lips were still slightly plump. she didn't know how she managed to make it throughout the whole city without being judged by everyone. maybe she could blame it on allergies if someone asked.

yet, she turned around and looked into the mirror with the dress on.

the dress' color complimented her features perfectly, making it look like she was glowing as if she hadn't previously cried her eyes out. it was the perfect shape for her figure, but most importantly, it brought a smile to her face. a smile that hadn't shown itself since the college acceptance letter came in the mail.

she burst through the changing room, instantly getting satoru's (who was mindlessly scrolling on facebook) attention.

"oh my-" and the words were stolen from his lips, making satoru gojo speechless for the first time ever. she marked it down in her head as a famous moment in history. "you - you look -"

"its so pretty, satoru!" she smiled, spinning around to see the ruffles of the dress flow with her movements. "and look! its got pockets!"

"its perfect, sweets." he looked at her with lidded eyes, a goofy smile on his face. not the sort of smile that would make her want to slap him, but the kind of smile that made her warm. "but did you follow my rule?"

"yes, i did not look at all." she couldn't keep the smile off her face. fluttering her hands in the pockets of the dress.

"perfect." he grinned. and when she went to go put her uniform back on, her smile faded. she knew she had to put it back on the shelf.

she exited the fitting room, a longing frown on her face. yet, satoru still beamed. "alright, you ready? lets go pay up."

"what?" and he was already towards the cash registers. "but - i don't have-"

"relax, sweets, i got it." he pulled out his card, waving it in the air like it was the key to the pearly gates.

"no - satoru - you don't have to -"

"i said, i got it." he playfully, yet dramatically, rolled his eyes. he was already walking up to one of the registers, somehow with the dress in his hands. did he take it sometime when she wasn't looking?

"thank you, sir." he nodded to the cashier, bag in hand. it happened so fast, too fast for her to comprehend.

and her face was red with shame as they walked out.

"you didn't have to do all that!" she elbowed him. he even insisted on carrying the bag as well.

"oh my, i walk you around the city and buy you something and that's my thanks?" he whined, his bottom lip peaking out to taunt her.

"i didn't ask you to!-"

"im joking," he straightened up again, laughing a the look on her face. "its all on me, i promise. you owe me nothing."

"thats - thats not fair to you, though!" she yelled, a frown on her reddened face. again, it was just allergies.

“so?” he shrugged. it was fair to him. he spent a little bit (a lot) and he got to see the smile on her face. that was fine by him. “i don’t care.”

she didn’t have a response for him. she just continued walking, only a hazy silence separating them. it wasn’t like the silence in her dorm- it was warm and welcoming. perhaps it was the fogginess in her head as sleepiness was slowly overcoming her. but no matter what it was, she felt safe with him.

all she muttered was, “thank you, satoru.” under her breath. and he chuckled.

her breaths were starting to get more shallow, as her strides shortened. “you feel tired?”

she was so tired. she’s been tired,

but she didn’t want this to end just yet.

“could we - uh,” she mentally cringed at herself. what was she doing? “can we go to your place?”

“huh?” he smiled, and it didn’t look like a single thought was behind his eyes. she didn’t want to have to repeat herself. “i mean- sure, if you’re okay with it.”

she didn’t want to do anything, and he knew that. but with the way he slung his arm across her shoulder, she felt a sudden buzzing throughout her joints. she rested her head on his chest as her legs essentially dragged behind her.

“our - my buildings close by. it won’t be long, sweets.” he giggled, and all she could do was nod her heavy head.

the next thing she knew, he was carrying her bridal style in the elevator. the bumps of the elevator car felt oddly familiar, but she was too tired to process all of it. he carried her so tenderly, humming softly as the doors opened. the low vibrations in his chest were a gentle lullaby.

after struggling and stumbling a little, he brought out his keys labeled “367” and he chuckled softly. opening the door, he let out a soft breath. popcorn kernels still cluttered the floor, some smooshed, but he still smiled at the amount of decorations around.

he laid her down gently on the couch, pausing briefly when she stirred, and sat down next to her. he grabbed his remote, manspreading yet again as he scrolled through channels. his free hand idly played with her hair, a gentleness to his touch.

“should i turn on some sorta informational tv show for you?” he whispered, looking over at her like she would respond. and of course, when she didn’t, he just chuckled. “i think i’ll play some digimon. i think you’d like this episode.”

she burst from her bedsheets with such force, her vision nearly went black. the scent around her was familiar as she stared ahead (once her vision was back to normal). how did she end up in her dorm? she could’ve sworn she was..

where was she last night?

as she looked around herself, everything was normal. not a single bit of her desk was out of place, and all her papers were safely tucked away in her bag. she put her head in her hands, wiping her eyes of her sleepiness. thank goodness it was a saturday.

a small ding came from her blocky phone. she swept her feet onto the floor, groaning a little bit when she made contact with the rug. her head hurt. she vaguely remembered bits and pieces of the show she was watching last night. something about monsters maybe?

idly, she picked up her phone. it was already past noon.

NEW NOTIFICATION

facebook? she barely used facebook.

NEW FRIEND REQUEST FROM: SATORU GOJO

she opened up his profile.

Satoru Gojo

is excited about: Digimon.

oh.

now she remembered everything. and that would make sense why she woke up in her own bed.

she scrambled out of her bedroom, hastily putting on her slippers and leaving her dorm with such urgency, her breath was left behind.

“hey! open up!” she banged her fists on door 367. although the time was not obscene, someone looked at her suspiciously across the hallway. “u-um - package for gojo?”

what was she doing? clearly she didn’t look like a delivery woman. all she cared about was getting an answer.

she heard shuffling from behind the door, and as the handle turned, satoru gojo showed himself in nothing more than a tank top and gray sweatpants. the tank top showed off his shoulders and his oddly defined collarbones. it stuck to his tummy, showing the outline of his flexed abs. she was in such haste that when she stopped to stare, a buzzing played in her head.

“oh,” satoru smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he crossed his arms. he just looked so smug. “quite the package you are, sweets. heh.”

“satoru?!” she whisper-yelled once she finally got a grip on her staring problem. “you- you’re my -”

“did you get my friend request?” he frowned, though it was more of a pout. his hand ruffled through his snowy white hair.

“satoru gojo is excited about digimon?!” she recalled from his profile, her mind a haze. she could remember his silly profile picture.

“‘cause i am.” he whined, like it was some sort of obvious statement. his carelessness about this made her brows knit.

then, a softer voice showed itself. “satoru, who’s that?”

a man with his hair tied up (apart from hair in the front) came up behind him. and suddenly, her face went even more red than before, realizing she embarrassed herself by freaking out in front of his company.

“o-oh, you - sorry, sorry, i-”

“you wanna join us? i’m making some popcorn,” satoru giggled, still not answering his friend’s question. “we aren’t watching any informational thing, but i think you’d still like it.”

“is - is this your neighbor?” the black hair man spoke again.

“yup.”

“the one who you -”

“yup.”

she stood there, her pulse in her cheeks, unable to speak. however, he gestured to invite her in. she couldn’t tell if his offer was a joke, but she walked in regardless. as she introduced herself to his company, learning that the man’s name was suguru, and she also noticed a girl with short hair on the couch by the name of shoko.

satoru grabbed the popcorn, a small grin on his face as he walked to sit on the couch. he patted the space next to him. “c’mon, sweets. sit next to me.” he snorted, “i dunno if there’ll be enough room for you, but suguru can stand.”

“there would probably be more room if you stopped manspreading.” suguru scoffed.

nonetheless, she sat down next to satoru, letting him sling his arm around her shoulder again. like last night. “how’d you sleep? did’ya finally get a good night?”

“yeah,” she spoke. when she relaxed her eyebrows, she felt a soothingness to her forehead. she could smell his cologne, being forced to smush up against him when suguru forced himself on the couch. “it - it was good.”

“that’s good, sweets.” he chuckled, shoving a bit of popcorn in his mouth with a grin. his hand rested idly on her thigh, his touch familiar to her. “you looked real tired.”

and she felt it was mandatory to look at him, a sort of desperation in her eyes. “hey, satoru i wanted to - um - thank you-”

“huh? for what?” he shrugged, resting his head on his free hand.

“for, y’know, all you did for me.” she was quiet, and she could feel suguru and shoko’s eyes on them. “i still don’t appreciate how loud your tv is, but - i just- thank you. really.”

“its no problem.” he laughed, taking the hand on her thigh and placing it around her shoulders again. “and i promise i’ll turn it down from now on.”

“thank god.” she snickered. meanwhile, suguru and shoko looked at each other skeptically.

“by the way, i put the dress on your counter,” satoru added, pushing his tinted glasses up. “you should wear it the next time we go out, sweets.”

“next time?” she asked, putting one eyebrow up.

“yeah, next time. i think i’m free tomorrow, actually.”

8.1.24 - WE ARE SO BACK!!!

masterlist ?!

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?

warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging

note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.

word count: 16.7k

“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”

You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”

A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.

Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.

He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.

What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.

“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.

Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.

“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”

You smiled, humming in agreement.

“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”

You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.

“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.

In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”

However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”

Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.

And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.

You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”

His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.

Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.

He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.

“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.

He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.

You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.

Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.

His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.

He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.

Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.

“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.

Now he knew.

Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.

After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.

You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.

“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”

His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.

“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.

“Who said I was?”

“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.

The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.

“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”

Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.

“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”

He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.

You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.

He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”

Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.

Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”

He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.

**********

It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.

There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.

Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.

Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”

With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.

He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.

“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.

“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”

There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.

They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.

You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.

Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.

You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.

His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”

And so, you did.

Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.

All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.

An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.

“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”

They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.

You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”

He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”

That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.

Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.

Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?

Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.

Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”

She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.

You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.

“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”

His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.

The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.

“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.

“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.

Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.

Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.

He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”

The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.

As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.

Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.

His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.

The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…

“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.

Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.

You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.

“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.

Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.

**********

The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.

Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.

Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–

A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.

To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.

You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Something on your mind?”

He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.

More like ‘someone’, you thought.

“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”

Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.

His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”

Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.

“Bellamy,” you warned.

He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh.”

The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.

Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.

“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”

“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.

He nodded.

Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”

As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.

Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.

The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.

“Without…?” you coaxed him on.

You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.

God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.

By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.

He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”

Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.

“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.

Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.

Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.

“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.

“Um, winning?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you;��I can last a little longer.”

You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.

“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”

He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.

You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.

Something was missing.

You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Ow!”

Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.

Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”

“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.

It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.

“Some bug.”

That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.

Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.

The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.

“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.

As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.

“Swarm.”

“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.

You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.

Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.

“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.

Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.

After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.

You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.

“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.

Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.

“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.

He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”

Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.

Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.

“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”

Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.

“Clarke, wait!”

“Get back here!”

To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?

You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.

“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.

Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.

“It’s down! Come on!”

Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.

No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.

Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.

He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.

“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.

**********

Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.

The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.

You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.

Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.

Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”

Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.

If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.

Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?

“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.

It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.

You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.

“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”

“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted

You raised your hands in faux fear.

Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.

You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.

“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”

He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.

“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”

He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.

Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.

You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”

It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.

You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.

(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)

However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.

While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.

You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.

As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.

At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.

Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?

After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.

Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.

The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.

And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.

He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.

Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.

Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.

You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.

Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.

That son of a bitch.

Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.

Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.

“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.

Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.

Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.

You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.

Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.

Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.

He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…

So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.

Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.

Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 

Bellamy.

“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.

He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.

The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”

Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”

He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.

You moved onto your knees as he got closer.

Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.

For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.

When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.

You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”

He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”

The game. You had almost forgotten.

Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.

“Don’t think that will work, princess.”

You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.

He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.

“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.

Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”

“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”

I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.

“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”

Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.

“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”

Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”

He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”

You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”

Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.

To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.

In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.

You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.

His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.

Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.

He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.

You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.

Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.

You wiggled against him, but it was futile.

“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”

He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.

“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.

“Just touch me,” you pleaded.

A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.

Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.

Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.

His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.

He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.

All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.

And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.

Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.

It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.

Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.

He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”

His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.

“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”

He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.

Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.

His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.

“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.

Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.

Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.

It all happened so fast.

“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.

Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.

Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.

You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground

Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.

You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.

He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.

His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.

He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.

If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.

“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.

His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.

“You still lost, remember?” he added.

As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”

His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.

“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.

Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.

He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”

His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”

“A man would take these chains off me.”

“You think taunting me will get me to break?”

Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.

Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.

You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.

And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.

You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.

Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.

His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.

He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.

Come on. Come on, you thought.

“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”

That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.

Weak point four—check.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.

And five. Check yes Juliet.

Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.

Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.

Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.

He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.

You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.

His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.

Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.

He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.

Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.

You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.

A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.

He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…

No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.

His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.

He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.

Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.

Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.

That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.

He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.

And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.

His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.

The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.

You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”

A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.

Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.

It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.

Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.

Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.

He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.

You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.

And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.

Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.

A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.

The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.

His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.

Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.

He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.

“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”

You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.

Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”

His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.

Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.

Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.

“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.

He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.

Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.

You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.

In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”

He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.

Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.

Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.

“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.

His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”

“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”

He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.

His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”

You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.

It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.

“Lean back,” he said, and you did.

Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.

“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.

You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.

He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.

He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.

Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.

His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.

The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.

You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.

His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.

Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.

His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.

You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.

“Bell, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”

Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.

He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.

The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.

Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.

His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.

Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.

You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.

Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.

The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.

You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”

“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–

“Oh, come on!”

You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.

Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”

“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”

His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.

“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”

“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.

“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”

You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”

Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.

It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.

[refuse2analyze]

homeless, help needed - offering various commissions

i havent been in/active in the art community for a while, and to be honest my return is for selfish reasons. i had to unexpectedly pack up and leave my home due to my bad family situation becoming significantly worse in the beginning of this year. so, i’ve been homeless since march. i’ll add the TLDR of my story towards the bottom of this if anybody wants it, but for now i’ll cut to the chase :p

cashapp: $uluvrory / venmo: circusfool / ask for zelle (unfortunately my paypal got hacked and i simply do not have the mental capacity to deal with that rn)

because of my desperate situation, i’m doing name your price commissions, as low as $5. of course the quality of the art will match the amount paid, which is why i’ll do anything ranging from a traditional sketch to a digital painting.

if you’re a real kind heart i would greatly appreciate any kind of donations, though i’d feel guilty not repaying the favor with at least a doodle

i have a general idea of what prices will amount to what kind of art, so dm me what you’re willing to pay and we can discuss!

since im still setting up my tumblr again, more examples are on my instagram of the same username! not currently logged in, though -> my situation below

this is a very summarized story, and i’ll refrain much information for safety purposes. certain family i lived with was known to mistreat members of our family. her biggest punching bags have 1. died 2. left due to her treatment. so i became her biggest target

she was supportive of my lgbt identity, until i came out as trans. currently i find the most comfort being unlabeled in every aspect of my identity, but at the time, i came out as trans, and discovered that this was not a safe space anymore.

things worsened at home, and i was practically only there to sleep due to fear and anxiety. being out daily from sunrise to night was miserable, being put in very uncomfortable and unsafe situations, which would absolutely have been worse if i didnt have a place to sleep.

i was told i cannot be out of the house like that, and i had to stay indoors, not allowed to isolate from her, or i had to leave. given how unsafe i felt around her and in that house at all, the only answer i felt i had was to leave. i knew it was going to have to happen since i initially moved with her at 15, i just didn’t expect it to have to happen so fast (i was 19 at the time, now 20)

i moved in with a friend’s dad. but unfortunately he lived in a filthy house with black mold all over the walls and vents of each room, all kinds of bug infestations, floor covered with garbage, and about 20 people (give or take), many on drugs, with constant fighting and violence. on top of that, her dad is a very scary guy, who knows my dad, a very scary guy, both in gangs and unpredictable due to their drug usage.

while here each paycheck went to clothing since my stuff was stolen on the daily (including expensive things, like my nintendo switch. man.) i had to leave that place unexpectedly and so the only items i took with me were what i had on my person when i went to work, and i had to rebuy everything from scratch (clothing, hygiene items, underwear, socks…)

after that i was floating around and as of recently i’ve been staying at a youth shelter! ive made it so far on my own, but my savings is getting pretty dry, and my minimum wage work is only giving me 8-12 hours per week, which is very hard to live off of. im frantically looking for other jobs, but its been a month with very little luck

i hope this post doesnt come across as too pity-seeking. any kind of assistance is so appreciated!!

[spectrum-core]

STEPHCLAIR IS BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD

Alternative title: a very angry (and tired) Full Stop fan's thesis.

ok, so me being the stephan/sinclair comparison's strongest hater is a bit i really like to lean into, but for the sake of keeping things semi-serious i will try to keep the actual essay content as free of me ranting my frustrations as humanly possible (which i mean commitement to the bit aside this will be hard bc it is frustrating to see people calling them both the same character, at best it shows a very surface level understanding of either character and at worst it shows just reducing them to cookie cutter meme fandom archetypes neither character actually fits into, so bear with me if i slip up and make unserious comments from time to time)

so before i start the actual essay let me say this: this essay doesnt even scratch the surface of how much i hate this comparison you guys cant even possibly fucking imagine ive been obssessed and i mean OBSSESSED with the full stop office since 2021 and im glad i wasnt in the limbus prerelease fanbase because if i had to see people comparing my beautiful boy and beloved best friend to a guy we had no info about other than "hes based of the guy from demian" i would have turned into the joker this is not even about saving my own mental health this is about sparing the entire pjm fandom of the monster i would have turned into

spoilers for ruina and limbus, universe terminology heavy and surface level references and interpretations of demian by herman hesse because imma keep it real with you guys the first and only time i read that book i was still in high school and i barely remember shit.

Table of contents:

Stephan - a summary

Sinclair - a summary 2.1. Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919) 2.2. Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)

Addressing common arguments

1.- Stephan - a summary

And of course I will start with Stephan, because I love him very much, just like Liwei he's one of my favorite pjm characters (yeah i like him more than your favorite popular character don't ask) so it's not surprising that i have A Lot to say about him, right?

And of course, I do.

As I said in the serrated duo post, a core part of my perception of the Full Stop office depends on the fact that they are poor. Mentions of money are common all across many factions in the game, yes, but the Full Stops are extremely constant about money, how taking a wrong turn means losing more than they can afford, how they can't afford to drop their weapons because they were too expensive, how even getting the permissions to be able to buy and wield these weapons was ridiculously expensive and so on. Of course, Stephan is the one talking about this the most (something I will elaborate on later), but Liwei and Tamaki also make a few ocassional mentions to it in their dialogue and keypages and considering this is a shared business it just makes sense that this is something that affects all of them.

These are just some few of the callbacks to money that Stephan alone does in his dialogue, without focusing in keypage text or what Liwei and Tamaki have to say about it.

And idk man, at least to me the difference between social classes is an important aspect for their characterization, specially because of how constant the concern with money is for Stephan. From this point alone comparing them feels like erasing a core aspect of Stephan's characterization, a lot about Stephan (and the Full Stop office as a whole, let's be real here) starts making more sense once you read the office as lower-middle class (and I'm saying lower middle class because they can afford some place to live and their weapons, but to me these guys are the types who precisely because of their need to keep bullets at all times can't pay for water or electricity all the time and sometimes they simply can't afford food or if they do they can spend a week straight eating nothing but unsalted pasta).

Now, going back to Stephan being the most outward about his complaints with money, he is in general the most outward about all problems the office is facing, to the point in which he doesn't mind inconveniencing everyone else with his rants, being one of the few guests who interrupt Angela's introductory speech and getting into Tamaki's nerves (something he's well aware he's doing, as these two know each other) at least two times through the course of their pre-battle cutscene, even Roland comments after the reception on how he wishes he would always have been as open about his problems as Stephan was.

However, it's worth nothing that he doesn't spend the entire cutscene crying about his miseries, and he only starts losing hope at three key moments: when they can't kill Eileen inmediately (making them waste more bullets than needed), when Argalia shows up (forcing them to retreat and making them fail their mission, meaning they won't get paid for this after they already lost a ton of money, as well as turning the situation into something much more dangerous than what they had signed up for) and once they enter the Library (an Urban Plague grade threat they have little to no information about, when him and Tamaki are almost out of bullets so Liwei is essentially the only fixer with some chance of putting up a fight and, you know, making it out alive).

Now, while it's true that Stephan is someone who dislikes danger, he isn't someone who isn't used to seeing gruesome events, his instinctive reaction to seeing a guy getting his head put into a meat grinder was cracking jokes and calling the concept of thought gears "a load of horseshit", which is something that falls in line with him being a somewhat experienced Fixer (sure, grade 5 isn't amazing but we can assume it's still either in the higher side of average or barely above average, and for someone specialized in firearms, which are far from the best weapon in the city, getting that high means he must have some experience and skill, right? more so considering he's been at this for 5 years at most) who has seen a fair share of horrid shit and can be unfazed by (most of) it as long as his own safety isn't on the line.

Another point is... he dislikes danger and is always wary about money and expenses, to the point in which he enjoys checking his bank account (or at least he believes so, if we go for the theory of the artbook profiles being more a mix of what the characters perceive themseves as/would describe themselves as to others, which is a theory i go by, I see him as someone who's convinced he does that for fun instead as out of desperation), but this seems to be more a generalized feeling of impending doom at everything rather than something that can be traced back to a particular traumatic event (anything can be dangerous, anything can cost him money), dude's from the backstreets after all, he's seen shit and he's used to assuming the worst. How I see Stephan, he's a guy who already expects bad things to happen but once things go wrong he starts freaking out about how this time They're Screwed For Real, but he never really tricks himself into believing "maybe things will turn out just fine this time?" or who thinks "well, we've done this before, surely we can handle it again."

This is not very related to Stephan as a character in terms of personality but I think it's still an important point to make as it is particularly related to body mods, his physical condition and his body shape.

So we can easily say that Stephan is a strong dude, at least if compared to real world standards without the fancy and insane body mods we see people in the city have access to. He carries that huge rifle around with his bare hands, something that Tamaki doesn't do and that not even Stephan himself in earlier iterations of his dessign did, and his main talent (which based of my theories is something that can be assumed as "something he's proud enough of to consider it the thing he does best") is physical labor.

Pictured, Tamaki's talksprite, carrying a rifle almost as long as she is tall with a strap supporting the weight on her shoulders, like a normal person.

Also pictured, an earlier iteration of Stephan's dessign, carrying the same rifle his current version does, but also holding it with the help of a similar strap supporting the weight on his shoulders.

And finally, Stephan's current dessign, holding that shit with his bare fucking hands in an exhibition of his brute animal strength, what the fuck is wrong with this man (affectionate)

And Stephan's artbook profile, the important part here is his speciality being physical labor, not only he's strong but he aknowledges this.

However, I made a point about the Full Stop office being poor, right? Even Roland says that "giving a whole office augmentation procedures is cheaper than keeping a decent supply of bullets in stock" (not the exact phrasing).

At least personally, I see this as Roland essentially saying "it would be cheaper (and more efficient) to get body mods for everyone in the office and buy another (cheaper) type of weaponry instead", but as things stand, the Full Stops can afford to either buy more ammunition and maintain their weapons, OR to get body mods, and since their whole deal is firearms... well, they can't really Stop investing in them, meaning they have no body mods At All and they got their grades purely out of their own physical strength.

Similarly, Stephan makes a similar point about how body augmentations are required for people to be able to run while carrying their weapons around (specifically talking about the rifles he and Tamaki use).

And... you know, the whole point is that they couldn't run carrying their weapons because they were too heavy, Argalia mocked them for that, Liwei urged them to drop their weapons, something they refused to do because of the prices.

Lastly on this point, while it's true that Ruina talksprites have a very bad case of Long Anime Legs (to the point in which how Roland's legs take about 2/3 of his height is a common joke), if we focus only on his head and torso, Stephan looks pretty Wide, and not only because he's wearing thick, fluffy and multilayered clothing, as other characters wearing similar clothing styles still look thinner than him.

This is all to say: I don't think this guy is a twink, or thin at all. He's a prime example of the strongman build to me and this is yet another hill I'm willing to die on watch project moon turn him into a beanpole once he inevitably shows up in limbus and me turning into the first real world distortion as a consequence.

Finally, Stephan is very notoriously the most informal member of the office, not only being the only one who doesn't wear any sort of formal clothing fully prioritizing comfort and practicality over looks but also completely disregarding formalities with his attitude at work (again, he interrupts Angela's introductory monologue, and again, his first two lines when being introduced are him cracking jokes), being the only member of the office to swear on screen and using several informal expressions and metaphors through both the reception dialogue and his keypage story.

And for good measure, he's a compilation of Stephan being the creature he is.

The literal introduction of the characters, also known as the moment in which Stephan became one of my favorite characters because he's Just Like Me Fr

Very normal behavior for someone who hates blood and violence and isn't used to seeing it. This man is more than capable (and willing, assuming money is involved) to murder kill.

Which, I mean, this attitude is very different from what we see from Sinclair.

2.- Sinclair, a summary

In retrospect I probably should have made this one first because I'm gonna be honest with you, Sinclair is one of the sinners I care about the least (I still like him and think he's pretty cool mind you I just don't vibe too much with most of the tropes making up the character) so what I have to say about him is less me grasping for straws and subtext because I don't care enough about him to be bothered with a super serious and in depth analysis like I did with Stephan and more things we can explicitly see about him in game and things that happen in the novel Demian.

And if I can have a small parenthesis here, people saying that one of my favorite pjm guys Ever is in any way similar to a guy who despite being pretty cool is just Not the type of character I fully vibe with... really, it gets annoying fast. Anyway back to the serious analysis now.

2.1- Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919)

To be able to understand Sinclair as he is depicted in Limbus Company, it is important to first be familiar with the source material of the original iteration of the character, that's it we're doing your high school homework by compiling several literary analysis of a symbolic psychological early 20th century autobiographical novel i hope you guys signed up for this (and if you didn't, though luck! i will do this anyway, I love literary analysis).

In the novel, young Emil finds himself torn between the worlds of light (which can be equated to the Garden of Eden, but it's more tangible meaning for our protagonist is his childhood home and family, a serene and well structure/organized space where he can be innocent, untainted by the evils of the outside world) and darkness (basically all the scary shit that goes on outside, where people do evil things for the sake of it), he finds himself tempted by the violence of the outside world, particularly through the actions of his classmate Franz Kromer, which eventually leads him to consider that due to being exposed to this tainted world of evil he no longer can return to the world of good and innocence.

Here, the character of Demian acts as a guide, someone who helps Sinclair to trascend this binary perception of good vs evil and to see himself as someone worthy of happiness because him witnessing the world of evil didn't taint him as a person but rather merely showed him another face of the world, Demian here mentions the Mark of Cain as a symbol of mental strenght and freedom, considering that bearers of this mark are capable of making their own choices and should be able to go beyond their assigned roles, being able to embody aspects of both worlds. This is to say that Demian's view is less focused on good vs evil, instead taking a more order vs chaos approach (without giving an explicit moral character to either).

In the book, the symbol of a bird breaking out of the egg is frequently used to represent Emil's personal growth, the egg represents safety and innocence, but a bird must eventually leave the egg or it will die, and getting out of the egg is a process than can be seen as violent, as a bird must fight to get out of the egg, and getting out of the egg represents birth but also an irreversible change, it can be seen as breaking out of the world of light and getting permanently in the world of darkness since a broken shell can't be fixed, but it can also mean achieving the enlightment and personal balance to not feel permanently bound to a condition, place or state of being and therefore growing as a person by learning to see himself as a whole human instead of supressing his "evil side" by only forcing the "good side" to surface.

Max Demian is here to show this second meaning of growth/self improvement (while also explaining that Sinclair is permamently growing and must always keep this balance between all the parts conforming the whole being that is himself rather that trying to make parts of himself antagonize each other). This idea of personal growth being one of the core themes of the book.

2.2- Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)

With Sinclair's source media analyzed (at a very surface level, mind you), we now can start talking about the depiction of Sinclair in Limbus Company, how it parallels the book, why the book symbolism is important for this instance of Sinclair and so on.

When we are first introduced to Sinclair in the game he's clearly nervous, he doesn't know what he's supposed to do as he hasn't worked for a similar company before and he isn't used to the gruesome sight of the bus eating people, this does fit inmediately in the motif of a naive person with limited experience about the world (well, to be fair to him most people won't be seeing man-eating buses at a regular basis, but the average backstreets dweller would be familiar with equally violent situations).

With this said, despite Sinclair's obviously nervous behavior... he isn't really a pessimist like Stephan was, in fact, almost every chapter (counting cantos, intervallos and the short mini chapters such as the Dante's notes update episode) have at least one key moment with him trying to rationalize horrible stuff as something much less violent, or simply going "but I thought this thing didn't work like this..." when confronted with the more horrible realities in the city. He thought the G corp veterans were really going to let them pass without a fight, he thought the people being controlled by headhens were just actors wearing mascot costumes, he thought mermaids were the beautiful half-woman half-fish creatures he heard about in fairy tales, and there's more examples but I don't really feel like looking for The Entire Fucking Plot Because This Guy Is An Actual Protagonist Instead Of A Background Guy Like Stephan Was to make my point clearer than it already is. And it's only when he realizes that the real world doesn't fit his expectations that he panics.

Well, there is one exception to this pattern: his own canto. Here, he panics inmediately as soon as K corp's nest is mentioned and spends the first half of the chapter pleading to turn back while saying that they are going to get killed. So what is different here with the rest of the plot?

Obviously, the fact that is related to his very own very personal very specific trauma. That is to say, unlike Stephan who is wary of anything that can put him on danger or cost him more money than it should, Sinclair has a very specific traumatic event that makes him act Like That (sure, he gets scared and nervous outside that, but these are more normal "I'm unfamiliar with this and I don't fully know how to react, this is normal behavior in a human being" reactions than outright "I am Actually Terrified due to being reminded of an actual traumatic event, this reaction is a textbook definition of post-traumatic stress disorder").

HOWEVER, Sinclair being someone who's deeply traumatized and kind of a scaredy cat when it comes to violence and unfamiliar situations... it doesn't mean that he's incompetent or a bad fighter. Almost all of his identities are terrifyingly good fighters (at least in their lore), Los Mariachis fear jefe Sinclair, Cinq director Sinclair is someone most association members are terrified to duel even during training, Blade Lineage Sinclair is considered a talented killer (it's also worth noting that save maybe for the mariachi one, in none of these mirror worlds Sinclair is precisely happy of being recognized as "the guy who's very scary when he fights people", unlike Stephan who I don't think he particularly likes killing but has a more "as long as I get paid..." mentality about it), the only "not very good at this" Sinclair id I can think of is the molar boatworks id where he's more a mechanic than a fighter so he fears he's lagging behind in that aspect. Hell, even the Canon Timeline so to speak (which is to say: his base identity) has him carrying that huge halberd, going on a frenzy attacking some already mutilated inquisitor's corpse, piercing through Guido's armor and dealing a fatal blow that finally killed him for real. To compare, Stephan is good at physical work, but we don't know about his close combat capacities other than the fact that he dislikes it, for Sinclair however we know he's terrifyingly good at physical combat.

Now, I've seen a lot of people call Sinclair a twink and while it's one of these words that nobody agrees on what it means, let's give it the benefit of doubt and say "alright, for the duration of this analysis let's settle on a twink being a young looking (regardless of actual age), thin man with almost no facial/body hair".

Since Sinclair is a rich guy (not just Any Rich Guy though, we're talking of someone whose family had ties to a Wing, probably not some elite guy like Daniel or Hong Lu, but not a self perceived "mediocre" nest dweller like Samjo either), and pressumably not very experienced in combat in most mirror worlds (we know he has no prior experience in the base one where he joined Limbus, at least), let's say that he has enough body mods for him to be much stronger than he looks like despite being thin, he does look thin and young and much to my dissapointment he also has no facial hair, so yeah, under this very broad definition of the term he is a twink.

However if you start adding personality archetypes to the definition he stops being one almost inmediately, as we've been shown time after time that his "submissive" attitude is mostly a result of him not knowing too well how to impose himself and just going along with what the rest say or do, but he's starting to grow tired of that ever since Hell's Chicken (even if he clearly still isn't great at that), as it should be more than obvious for anyone who even just googled "demian herman hesse literary analysis", Sinclair is undergoing a lot of changes even now, and the game is doing a good job at portraying that.

Honestly I also think he'd be hotter with a sleeper build but really, I don't care enough about him to argue about that.

And for the last point, precisely due to his upbringing as a rich guy AND his traumatic experience with Kromer, Sinclair is not only a very polite and mild mannered guy (again, unlike resident creature Stephan), but also he tries to take as little space as possible, both literally and metaphorically, as Dante notices near the end of canto 3 when they finally comment on how Sinclair never talks about his own problems until it's too late because he doesn't want to bother the others as they probably have it worse (again, unlike Stephan "i don't mind loweing team morale and making everyone in the room uncomfortable as long as i get to vent" Full Stop office).

3.- Adressing common arguments

Alright, now that I talked about each character, let's see some of the most common arguments I've seen people use to compare them.

"They look the same!" No, they don't. The only thing they have in common is being blonde but even their hairstyles are different with Sinclair having a simple bowl-ish cut with slightly wavy hair and Stephan having curlier hair (not to mention the whole point I made about body types because I'm the sort of lunatic who cares about that stuff). I won't even bother with this argument.

"They have the same personalities!" Again, they don't. Stephan is very cynical with a lot of his attitude being clearly derivated from him coming from a poor background and having stayed there his whole life, he also doesn't care about his cynism getting in the way and bothering everyone else. On the other hand, Sinclair is someone who could almost be described as naive due to having lived a sheltered childhood and only having his experiences with Kromer and his time at Limbus as moments of realizing that the rest of the world is Not Like His Childhood House, still believing that the world is a binary of good vs evil and expecting things to turn out fine or be much better than they actually are, just to be hit with the reality of the city Not being a nice place where people are nice and polite and not trying to kill him, this is not to say he doesn't have his own issues but even Dante notices during his Canto that Sinclair makes a point to avoid bothering everyone else with his personal problems, keeping them to himself even if that makes things worse on the long run.

"Both are opposed and harmed by a lunatic!" This is an argument I've seen a lot and is incredibly filmsy at best, half of the city's population are lunatics and the other half are people who got opposed by them some way or another. Will you say that Ishmael and the rest of the Pequod crew can be compared to the Full Stop office (or really, even mention the other Full Stop fixers instead of just focusing on Stephan because he happens to be blonde and can be compared to Sinclair) because of their situations with Ahab? Or the W Corp crew who got their train targetted by Jae-heon and Elena (or, you know, the train passengers who were turned into Love townspeople or puppets)? What about the Vermillion Cross who got killed by the Reverb Ensemble? Or the Cane office fixers? or the Zwei association section 6 who got beaten to death by Gyeong-mi just because he felt like doing so? Or the Liu association section 1 who had to deal with Argalia taking Philip away? Or the Kurokumo clan members when they were attacked by Tanya? You aren't comparing them to either Stephan or Sinclair, right? Not to mention that in her weird and fucked up perception of things, Kromer was less opposed to Sinclair as she was trying to lead him to join her and her cause, even the last things she says before getting killed are her calling him to follow her.

"Both are compared to birds!" Oh, right, because I forgot that a very directed symbolic comparison to a baby bird breaking out of it's shell as a symbol of rebirth, learning about the nuances of the world and self improvement/liberation that is consistently used in the source material Sinclair comes from is exactly the same as one (1) throwaway line the big bad guy uses to mock not only Stephan but the whole Full Stop gang, right. And if you want to say "but Tamaki compares him to a bird once too", yeah she calls him a parrot because he keeps repeating the same complaints over and over, it's still not the same as a consistent metaphor.

"Both are sad blonde twinks! They're essentially the same guy." Sad? Yeah, everyone in the city is sad but their ways to be sad are polar opposites, and neither of them is the pure cinnamon roll uwu crybaby archetype people tend to lump both into, Stephan was merely having a bad day and people decided to make that his whole personality (when honestly we get more insight on his actual personality before Argalia shows up, when he's making sarcastic remarks and getting impatient because they weren't starting killing people fast enough) but he's still perfectly capable (and willing) to murder people, and Sinclair is just... someone who lacks experience about the real world and how it works and has a tendency to get nervous because of this, but he can adapt quickly to situations once he understands them. Blonde? Yeah, but I guess if that's a point to draw a comparison then we should also compare them to Don Quixote, the Tiphereths, Lenny, Yun, Lulu, Olga, every single npc, librarian, and agent who comes with blonde hair from the generator... Twinks? Stephan absolutely isn't one, Sinclair depends on how you define twink as nobody seems to get to an agreement with that, if you define it as merely "young looking thin man with almost no visible body hair" then yeah he is one, but if you go for any more specific definition than that he stops fitting into the definition almost instantly.

In conclusion: if I see anyone else comparing them I'll start blocking people liberally bc I'm sick of seeing that shit (I do that already tbh but just so you know), now scram

[pastara-cell]

FAVOURITE AU IDEA AAAA DAY 17 IVE BEEN WAITING IVE BEEN WAITING IVE BEEN WAITING I HAVE TWO ANSWERS BUT I’LL DO TWO SEPERATE POSTS BECAUSE IF I DO BOTH OF THEM IN THE SAME POST YOU’LL BE READING AN ENTIRE FIC AT THAT POINT

PART 1 (Double Life Au)

—————-

Okay so, This is sorta similar to yesterdays thing, and also, I’ve literally posted about this, but now that I have my medication, i can ACTUALLY write it. TMF DOUBLE LIFE AU- Okay okay wait wait lemme recap then I’ll go into detail, because I dont want this to be a complete restatement of my older post, as its been more fleshed out since then.

So, for a recap, if you dont know what double life is, them it’s essentially the 3rd season in a mcyt series called “the life series/traffic life”. In this season, people are paired up with anothet person, their soulmate, and they take damage when the other person takes damage.

However, with that being the canon, many different headcanons and fan conceps have popped up for it, such as feeling everything your soulmate feels (Physically and mentally). I’ll only give one example because there are physically so many that i’d be here all day talking about them.

I would also like to take a second to say that i’m a firm truther in the fact that double life is an allegory for the fact that you cant be forced until love. Also, remember that soulmates can be platonic or romantic, or sometimes even enemies! (Not like im gonna make zailey soulmates, they could be platonic but Its just not my thing)

So what I proposed is that we take the tmf guys, and we throw them into the double life universe! This au was just a thought at that point, but I have it mostly mapped out now! So, heres a lil thing showing all the pairs ^^ (what no, I didn’t steal half these screencaps from rosypenguins and the tmf suffering bracket…LIESSS/silly)

(The letters to the side stand for what the pair is. R means romantic, p means platonic, q means QPR, and c means complicated)

Now im not gonna sit here and go over each pair, however, i’ll dump some headcanons for the au!! (If you end up using this au, which i totally dont mind, please change anything you want!)

————

-The reason Drean is a confusing pair is because they dont know eachother, or atleast, not well. They’d probably not know how to properly talk to eachother at first. I could see this going from not knowing eachother, to platonic, to romantic, but any way works and they’ll be able to be interpreted as romantic or platonic

-Staisy QPR because yes.

-ran out of people to pair up, and decided “huh, okay then, sadie and maria” and tbh, why not. New rarepair. They go from mild dislike to loving eachother practically as soon as they bond.

-all the pairings in this are based upon canon friendships, my personal headcanons, and whatever I felt like putting together.

-Lia and Zoey are NOT friends in this au, well atleast not anymore. But they’re stuck together.

-Hailey and milly cause i need to see them interact more

-Milly and Elliot totally do a secret soulmate thing, like bigb and grian, but are super awkward about it. Hailey and jake know, and they think it’s hilarious

—————

Enough about the pairings, au facts time!!

-Drew is a past watcher. Take that as you will with your own watcher lore ^^

-Sadie is a listener, also take that as you will with your lore.

-Because I can and Because I will, Liam and henry live in the “relation-ship”. They’re the boat boys. No other pairing lives in the same houses as the original mcyts, Just those two.

-green, yellow, and red lives still exist. Yes they can die. Yes, my friends, this does mean angst.

-Will take place in the terrain of the double life map. Only things that are missing are the structures that were built by the mcyts, the cake does not exist, nor does pearl’s tower or anything. The relation-ship is there but thats an exception.

Mayyy update this, part 2 with my othet au may come out today or tomorrow, depends on how lomg it’ll take me to do stuff. ^^

[switchedandbewitched]

Switched and Bewitched

Chapter 2: One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish...

Read chapters 1-7 on AO3!

The Gang filled Fred in on what they had discovered: 2022, completely changed Coolsville, their families were missing or dead. Light, happy topics. 

“Wow, these pain meds sure are something,” Fred said. He didn’t believe a word out of their mouths. 

“Red, rits re ruth,” Scooby said. They had snuck him into the hospital using a big trench coat and a hat. “Re really rare rin re ruture.”

“Scooby, we aren’t in the future. There’s another explanation.”

“No, Fred,” Velma said. “I can say that we are, without a doubt, in the year 2022. I, too, thought it was impossible and entertained several other more scientifically-sound ideas: a movie set, a fever dream, drugs, a traumatic brain injury-induced coma. 

They all fell quiet as a nurse in blue scrubs entered the room to check Fred’s vital signs and switch out a bag of clear IV fluid. “If everything keeps going well you should be out of here in a few days,” she said, turning to leave the room. 

Fred winced. “Alright, Gang, we need to split up and look for clues. Daphne, Velma you guys should speak to Red Herring. I don’t like it, but I can’t think of anyone who might still live around here. Scoob, Shag you should head to the address your uncle gave you. Maybe there will be more information. And me, well, I think we know where I’ll be.” 

The Gang nodded and said goodbye to Fred. None of them had ever been hurt badly, let alone hospitalized. It made them all uneasy. 

“Wait!” Fred called. Daphne turned and poked her head back in the hospital room. “Can you guys... check on my parents? I don’t really expect anything but...”

“Sure thing,” Daphne said. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright,” Velma said with the same hard, determined look that had lived on her face since arriving in 2022. “We will meet at The Malt Shop in 3 hours. Sounds good?”

“Like, I’m so ready for a double chocolate olive malt shake. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Velma.”

The Gang split up and set off in opposite directions. Velma was doing her best to update her mental map of Coolsville, using the odd landmark or old building she recognized. The small museum where they solved the Black Knight mystery was now a huge museum and contemporary art building with two massive wings added to either side. There was a tattered flier stapled to a telephone pole, advertising Funland, where The Gang had dealt with a malfunctioning robot on the loose. The Kingston Mansion, up high on a hill outside of Coolsville, seemed to be looming over Velma and Daphne. 

Daphne and Velma found the old Herring house after an hour or so of searching. It didn’t appear anyone had made any effort to repair what used to be minor cosmetic concerns and they had blossomed into full blown structural and safety issues. But, there was a newer car in the driveway and a newspaper on the front porch. Someone clearly lived here. 

“Okay, Velma, you knock.”

“Me? Why me? I don’t want to knock.”

“C’mon, Velma!”

“Fine!” Velma rapped on the door three times and waited expectantly. After a moment she heard shuffling and a loud bang from behind the door. 

“Goddammit!” a nasally voice yelled. A man opened the door. He was average height, a little stocky, with a red heart and arrow tattoo on his bicep. He was wearing khaki pants and a green vest. Velma and Daphne could imagine that if he wasn’t in his late 80s, his shock white hair would be bright red. 

Red Herring gasped and took a step back. “I’m having a stroke!” 

“You’re not having a stroke,” Daphne responded. 

“You look exactly the same! You haven’t aged at all. It isn’t possible,” Red Herring responded, taking another step back. He placed two of his fingers on his neck to check his pulse and then crossed himself. “You ruined my life!” 

“What are you talking about?” Velma demanded. “We didn’t ruin your life. You don’t understand, for us it has only been a day and a half.”

Red Herring darted back into the house, leaving the front door swinging open. All attempts at politeness out the window, Velma and Daphne followed him inside. It looked nearly the same as it had when they were kids, but the smell of cigarettes was stronger and there was a table of medication next to an oxygen tank seated by a recliner. 

“Red!” Daphne called as they crept down the hallway. The only open door was at the end of the hallway on the left Daphne and Velma peered around the doorframe and found Red Herring standing in the middle of what was once an office. The walls were covered with newspaper clippings, copies of police reports, photos, and other documents all tacked to the walls and connected by red string. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” He breathed. 

“What is all this?” Daphne asked. She touched newspaper clipping with a photo of Red in handcuffs, being placed into a police car. The headline read: RED HERRING, AGE 18, IMPLICATED IN THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE COOLSVILLE 4. The article went on to explain that evidence was gathered showing there was a rivalry between Red Herring and Fred Jones, one of the missing Coolsville 4, and police had reason to believe he may be responsible for the disappearance. The next newspaper clipping had another photo of Red Herring in handcuffs, being led up the steps of the Coolsville Police Department: HERRING TAKEN INTO CUSTODY AGAIN; NEW EVIDENCE. Article after article about The Gang’s disappearance was pinned to the wall, followed by articles headlined with things like: COOLSVILLE ELITES TARGET OF BRUTAL MURDERS; WAS HEIRESS DAPHNE BLAKE THE FIRST VICTIM?

“Oh my god,” Velma said. 

“Do you know how many times I was arrested? Five! I was arrested over and over again. Always a new piece of evidence, they told me. But really there weren’t any other suspects and Fred had accused me of so many crimes leading up to your disappearance. I was never convicted but I’ve spent the last fifty years as an outcast. Everyone still believes I killed you.”

“We’re going to fix this, Red,” Daphne said gently. “But we need to get back to 1969 to do that. Can you tell us what happened after we disappeared?”

Red sighed and sat down in an office chair. “The cops said you went for a drive, out towards Okefenokee Swamp, and never came back. They searched the swamp for months but they never found your bodies or the Mystery Machine. Eventually they found Velma’s shoe and sock, Daphne’s headband, Scooby’s dog tag, and Fred’s ascot. At that point they no longer considered running away an option and you were declared missing, then presumed deceased. There was a brief period where Shaggy was named the number one suspect as they didn’t find any evidence he was harmed, but as they kept searching they found some torn green cloth that matched his shirts. They threw that theory out. Now, at this point they turned to me as a suspect as well as all culprits in the crimes you had solved, but most of them were still in jail at the time of your disappearance. I had a shit alibi but they also didn’t have much evidence to connect me to the crime -- other than the previous crimes Fred had accused me of -- which I never committed. All of your parents were interviewed, your teachers, hell, even the staff at The Malt Shop were questioned. After about two years the investigation was closed.”

“What about this article?” Daphne pointed at the article referencing the serial killer. 

“They did briefly attempt to connect your disappearances with a serial killer who showed up in June, 1970. It was unsuccessful. Cops never even caught the killer, let alone connect the killer to you guys.” 

“And this?” Velma pointed to a small corner of one wall, dedicated to articles about Dr. Albert Shaggleford. 

“Dr. Shaggleford was quite vocal about... alternate reasons for your disappearance,” Red said. He chuckled for a moment and then sobered up. “I guess it isn’t so ridiculous now but at the time he was talking about wormholes and magic. Most people wrote it off as eccentric millionaire bullshit. I did talk to him one time and he was convinced you would return someday.”

Yes, he left a letter for Shaggy at the bank. I refuse to believe he didn’t know something,” Velma said.

“Where are our parents?” Daphne hesitated because she didn’t really want to know, after a second thought. 

“Well, like I said, they were all interviewed - multiple times - after you disappeared. Most of them stayed in Coolsville for a long time in case you showed up one day, but some of them moved away.” Red spun around to face the hallway door and pointed to the upper lefthand corner. There was an article from the New York Times titled THE ILLEGAL BLAKE MILLIONS. “Your parents fled to the Caymans after being caught embezzling money. I lost track of them after that but they would be well over a hundred by now so I suspect... Anyway, Velma, your parents split up. Your mom stayed here and passed away about ten years ago, peacefully. I’m not sure what happened to your dad. Shaggy’s parents sold their house nearly thirty years ago and moved to a retirement community in Utah. Fred’s parents both passed away nearly twenty years ago now.”

Velma stared down at the floor as though it would open up, swallow her, and spit her back out in the 60s. Daphne swallowed hard and blinked. “That’s what I thought.” 

“None of them ever stopped hoping.” Red offered gently but his voice still had a hard, bitter edge to it.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re going to figure out how to get home.” There was no certainty in Velma’s voice. If it was a normal Thursday she would be getting ready to leave Introduction to Quantum Physics at Cal Polytechnic right now. Instead, her parents were dead and she had no idea what would happen to them. Would time travel somehow rip a hole in the fabric of reality? Were they living on borrowed time?

“We should meet back up with Shaggy and Scooby,” Daphne said. “Thank you so much for your help, Red. I’m so sorry that they put you through hell.”

Red shrugged and coughed. “Is what it is again. If you do get back to 1969... maybe stop accusing me of things? Ya know, in case you time travel again.”

“Sure thing,” Daphne said. 

“Wait, take these files. Maybe there’s something in them.” Red dropped four thick manilla folders stuffed with photos and documents into Velma’s arms. 

“You don’t happen to have a new map of Coolsville, do you?”

Red slapped a map down on top of the folders. “Sure do. I’ll be here if you need anything else. Not much for an old man to do around here.” 

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Shaggy and Scooby were hauling ass to the Shaggleford address in hopes there would be food. 

“Like, Scoob, I’m starving. Wasting away. If I don’t make it, go one without me,” Shaggy said. He placed one hand on his forehead and mimicked fainting. 

“Re, roo, Raggy,” Scooby said. He also placed one paw on his forehead and then fell to one side, rolled over, and stood up in one fluid motion. 

Scooby and Shaggy arrived at a large house on a sloping hill that sat behind a tall, wrought iron fence. It wasn’t a mansion per se, but was definitely a close cousin of one. There were no cars in the driveway and, though the yard was perfectly landscaped and flowers in full summer bloom, there was no indication when the last time someone had been there was. Shaggy punched the code in on the silver keypad mounted to the gate and it popped open with a somewhat rusty click. 

“Ready, ol’ pal?” 

“Rever,” Scooby said and shook his head. 

Shaggy and Scooby made their way up a stone walkway to the front door. It was an intimidating black door that stood out from the white mediterranean plaster. Shaggy knocked on the door once; no answer. Shaggy knocked again, a bit more forcefully; no answer. 

“Raggy, rook,” Scooby said and pointed one claw at a white metal box, low to the ground. Shaggy knelt to look at it and found there was the same silver keypad on the side of the box. It opened with the same code as the gate and inside were five keys, each engraved with The Gang’s names and Scooby’s was on a retractable clip meant to attach to his collar. 

“Nice catch,” Shaggy said, sticking the key into the door. The door swung wide open, revealing a fancy foyer with a staircase and single round oak table in the middle of the room. The table had a plastic ficus and a phone. 

The phone started to ring. 

“Ruh... Raggy, rou ronna ret rat?” 

“Hello?” Shaggy yelled into the house. “Hello!” A heavy silence met him, broken only by the ringing phone. 

“Like, yeah, Scoob, I guess I am.” With all the confidence he could muster (not much) he marched up to the phone. It wasn’t like any phone he had seen before and it had a little screen that displayed the number. It was the same as the phone number listed in Uncle Shaggleford’s letter. “Like, h-hello?”

“Hello, sir, I am terribly sorry, sir, we will be over ASAP. I do apologize for the delay.” The man stumbled over his words on the phone and as nervous as Shaggy was, this man was doubly so. 

“Like, man, I’m not sure I understand. Who are you?”

“Well - ah, well I suppose I am your great-nephew, sir, Timothy Shagburg. I’ve been assigned to handle all of your affairs,” the man said. “We’ll be sending a cleaning crew over to get the house in order as well as the grocery service and --”

“Like, no need to keep going. Grocery service is all I need to hear.”

“We will have the house set up b-by the evening and once again, I do apologize for the d-delay. See you soon, um, Uncle Norville.” The phone clicked and Shaggy set it back down on the receiver. 

Shaggy began tiptoeing around the house without a doubt that a monster or ghost or ghoul would jump out of a closet. Off the foyer to the right was a massive kitchen and dining room. To the left was a living room and two bedrooms. One bedroom had drawers filled with green t-shirts and brown pants. For some reason there were red t-shirts mixed in but Shaggy simply shrugged it off as a mistake. The other bedroom had a plush dog bed, basket of dog toys, and seven of the same collar hanging on the wall. Shaggy snagged one and popped it on Scooby. At some point Scooby had lost his trademarked tag. The three bedrooms upstairs were exactly what he expected, each one filled with clothes that clearly belonged to Fred, Daphne, and Velma. Shaggy found the door to the basement, took one look at the dark staircase and decided against it. The Gang could take a look at it when they got here. Across all the rooms was a thick layer of dust, it was clear no one had been in the house in years. 

Shaggy searched through the cupboards, refrigerator, and even the oven for food but there was nothing. On the counter he found an envelope with some money and contact information for other employees of the Shaggleford estate.

Read chapters 1-7 on AO3!

[absolutebitchgetter]

The problems of CS. Combined in one.

Since the CS ninjas are onto me, i shant give up. You will forever hear the tunes of the rumours of ABG'S unbanning.

Heres all the CS posts i can find:

All of this might share the same topic, and thats a feature of how Comic Studio doesnt - or probably will never - fix its problems. Insane. I know. However, why am i not giving up if we cant fix it?

To save people's sanity.

Im trying to get unbanned so i can prove i am trying to become a better person, and save people's mental health by pointing out thr flaws in:

-moderation

-people

-studios

-controversy

-kids

Its honestly pretty scary how kids are exposed to Jayst- i mean the toxicity of comic studio, and also how the experienced CS users are saying its worse than fucking Twitter.

Where can i begin with the fucking moderation? Where were they when i was getting banned? One is treated like an angel after the fucking outrageous calls he does. How long was i banned? 8 months? Yes. 8 Fucking Months. Above Half a year. One has literally made DOXXING JOKES TO ME and made me fear for my life. One in the cs discord takes someone elses side when i ask for a spoiler for Binding of Isaac (a pretty scary game). One is just fucking horrible at moderation. And one is probably biased after i did a few too many pings in a server. A server i owned btw, no one stopped me. You know who you are. :)

To name a few very shit studios,

-Probably fucking most of them

Probably 10% of the studios get used.

And a lot of them are just fucking shit.

We have a fucking NICK JR studio for like 2 YEAR OLDS.

When is there a fucking Despicable Me comic studio?

To name types of people:

Suspected pedophiles

probably pedophiles

pedophiles

nazis

racists

homophobes

transphobes

xenophobes

sexists

anti semetic

Jokes aside tho there are lot of people i named that are actually one of the things above. There are also lots of fucking toxic people.

To my next point

popular beats all apparently

If your popular, dont fear of being banned! You fucking wont be!

I can name, a shit ton of people that should be banned but wouldnt because they have a shit ton of followers and that would get a lot of people to quit the site.

-Puffyy (Should i say more?)

-Jaystar (☠️)

-Onion_Rabbit (Threw about users like hell, faked harassment, legit got people to witchhunt me (December 2022), was toxic to me before i got banned (unfairly) (July 2023)

-Deathzy (A fucking mpreg and sex comic untagged, did the same as Onion_Rabbit July 2023, has known cases of being cocky as fuck when they get their way)

-SarahKomik (Has threw about users under the bus pretending to victimise themselves over the slightest of out of context things. The current situation with Oka is one.)

-Zappy (The same as above.)

Theres a lot more! Holy fuck

This community has a complete fucking hivemind too.

When popular users say "this person has done something bad (slightly or horrible) target them guys" and when they say "dont harass this person pls" they're praying that the mods dont fucking mob them. Oh wait.

Its like a lot of people have pointed out popular beats all!

Also, this is how people say "fuck the rules" (e.g, Oka and me)

If you have any problems, comment it, You probably shouldnt have but if your a snowflake, combat me.

Oh yeah i also forgot Tammy got knocked about like the school thot at summer time with the football team. They need apologising yall. This is the reason why people quit, my point above. Tammy quitting is one of the worst things to happen to CS.

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

hiiiiiiii we havent sent you any asks for some time. mostly because kanra didnt front much

[idk if you can recognize us after all the url changes]

ereyesterday our their of pissed suggested getting into an outpatient psychward and told us to think about it. and silver[headmate] made a post on the tumbler saying that this could be a bad idea because somewhat recently i made a hole in a wall and less than a week ago Lyra messed up a cupboard. as if we're the only ones who on occasion damage stuff when angered. this is literally so mean for no reason.

also. a few months ago shinra had an accident with a knife. and we got a fun new 1 inch long scar and possibly a little bit of nerve damage or something. and we were supposed to get some reminder tetanus shot around a month after that since i had no idea when was my previous tetanus shot. and i uhhhhhhh didn't get it since i'm scared of doctors, and it would probably seem quite weird if i went to a doctor about this now

also im sorta balding but. scared of doctors so cant do anything about that

last sunday i was in some social studies class or some other shit. and the teacher said something about how lgbt people were never oppressed in this country. which is a very bold thing to say as someone living in a country in which like a quarter of the area declared itself a "lgbt free zone" and only calmed down a little when the european onion told them that that's probably illegal. and i decided to argue with the teacher a bit. one of the things she said was that sometimes there's dudes in pup masks on pride parades, which invokes disgust and thus should be banned, and. idk why but i kinda expected teachers to have a bit more common sense than 14 year old twitter users. also i came to school wearing a spiked dog collar on a regular basis. [for reasons unrelated to kink.]

well. good thing i'm failing every single one of my classes lmao. at least i won't be invoking disgust in fragile old ladies

also. i just met a doggy and he was very niceys. very soft and friendly. and polite also.

- toby

HOW COULD I NOT RECOGNIZE U MY BESTIE IN CHRIST <3 u changed ur url a binch of times but ur icon remained the same sdlfndnfkjsnsdf so i was able to keep track!

i however do not understand a single word of that first paragraph. if u want my advice, DO NOT. FUCKING GO. TO A PSYCH WARD!!!!! idfc Who it helped, it hurts a lot more than it helps, theres NO WAY to tell which psych wards are good and which are shit. no really let me go thru them all rn:

REFERRALS: most professionals that work in different offices do not know each other on a personal level and may never hear of their bad stories. a doctor that was the chillest coolest doctor id ever met referred me to a psychiatrist that sucked fucking ass shit. there is no way to know for sure

GOOGLE REVIEWS: im gonna b real i dont trust some of those mfs. you seen the guys that go into psych wards? a lot of mentally ill people r internalizers and just accept whatever happens to them, and even if they arent, society looks down on the mentally ill SO MUCH that they could b told "you deserve this bc ur crazy" and due to all this societal gaslighting, theyd agree

REVIEWS ON OTHER WEBSITES: same thing lol

why is this so important? because you cannot Fucking leave a psych ward. an outpatient ward yeah you can leave, but ive been to both in and outpatient and they excert the same level of bullshit control over their patients. in outpatient, one of the therapist told me "you are not mentally ill" and made me cry lol. she MEANT to mean it in a "you're not mentally ill, you're ~suffering from a mental illness~ uwu dont let ur disorder define you" kinda way, but that concept was introduced in therapy..... two days after she told me this. like hello? and then she tried to spin it as like, it was a problem with Me i.e. My PTSD Was Triggered and not She Is Dog Shit At Timing The Explaining Of Concepts.

this place also invited my abuser into group therapy even after me incessantly telling them "this is my abuser, she will use all this against me" and yeah guess what she did immidiatley after lol

dont go to wards.

WRT THE KNIFE: damn :0 thats insane dude, hopefully the nerve damage will heal but from experience its gonna take like, a few years at minimum lmao. i had a Knife Incident involving my pinky and the nerve damage was so bad that i couldnt hold scissors w my pinky in the scissor loop thing but evenchually it got better but it took like 4 years. if the knife was clean and not rusty ur risk of tetanus is pretty low i THINK, do not quote me on this. if ur scared of doctors, look into if ur pharmacy offers tetanus shots! some pharmacies have vaccinations other than flu and covid (which i need 2 get lol rip) so u might be able to get one THERE and not see A Doctor about it!

u dont need a doctor for the balding. minoxidil my dear boy, its at walmart, its the stuff thats in rogaine. you want "minoxidil 5%" thats whats in rogaine, theres "minoxidil 3%" thats For Girls but idk ive never heard of anyone having a problem w it. IT IS TOXIC TO CATS THOUGH IT IS VERY VERY TOXIC TO CATS IF YOU HAVE A CAT DO NOT LET THEM FUCKING TOUCH YOU OR RUB ON YOU UNTIL IT DRIES ok? :) id google more if i were u but boom. problem solved. i am the doctor now

"dog masks invoke disgust and should be banned" babygirl disgust is subjective and like, someone could use that logic to ban whatever YOU like, or Are. maybe someone is really disgusted by lil old ladies bc the wrinkles look gross as fuck to them. should we quarrantine the grandmas?

also lol at the dig against 14 year old internet puritans and then surprise surprise guess what happened on This Very Blog while this ask was sitting n collecting dust!! i gotta b on my best behavior bc theres a nonzero chance that The Feds will be looking at this blog (did u know u dont report cybercrime to local police and instead theres a form on the fbi's website? Well Now You Know!) and that goes 4 all of u too. bart please be good..... for the love of GOD please be good....... please tell me yall know that simpsons scene

also also yay doggy!! was it a regular dog or a dude in a pup mask? either way very fun n cool!!!

[coffeeheartaddict2]

A new normal

Book: Open Heart (book 2 rewrite)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!mc Casey Valentine

Category: fluffy Angst

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: sexual content, language, mentions of character death, mental illness.

Summary: All the other departments disband breathing life into Edenbrook. Ethan and Casey are still undefined but in a good place. A group dinner leaves to a reflection. Casey finally

Word Count: 5083

Disclaimer: Characters, dialogue (actual and paraphrased) belong to Pixelberry

*********

Casey and her housemates make their way to Edenbrook. It has been two days since Ethan disbanded the Diagnostics team to focus on the free clinic and Casey had never been busier. It was gratifying assisting those who had nowhere to go. As Casey and her friends enter they can not believe their eyes as they see the Atrium being taken over by patients as well as what looks like all the doctor’s in the hospital helping out. Casey and her friends make their way to the clinic. Casey spots Ethan.

“What is with the hospital take over?”

“All the other departments have done what I did and disbanded thus freeing up staff and resources for the clinic. Also word has been getting out in the community also.”

“I suppose this will buy Edenbrook some more time too.”

I suppose it does so suit up.”

“Yes Dr Ramsey.”

Despite the very public reveal of their relationship, Casey still kept some semblance of professionalism at work. Her and Ethan were yet to define their relationship and she knew that some hard decisions were going to be made soon. Things were going well so she was hopeful that they could work but a part of her was still scared. She loved him, this much she knew, his actions showed that he felt the same but she had not verbalised those words yet. Casey needed clarity as to what they are before she felt she could say them.

Casey and her friends get to work helping the growing number of patients.

Casey finally manages to find a few minutes to sit down. Then all of a sudden a mug of coffee appears in front of her. She look up and sees Ethan. Casey takes a sip. “Mmmm thank you, I feel like I need this in an IV.”

“Very funny Casey” he says with a chuckle. He grabs my hand and I squeeze it. He kisses the top of my head. I rest my head on his shoulder breathing in his scent. “I miss this” I say to him quietly. We sit there enjoying the sensation of being physically close again. I finish my coffee and reluctantly break away.

“We need to have a date sometime soon.” I say giving him another hug before I head back to work.

“I know Casey, I know.” He he says and then kisses me before we depart.

Casey, Jackie, Elijah and Sienna arrive home exhausted. Aurora is home. Aurora seems a little edgy so I ask her what is wrong.

“Guys I am coming back to Edenbrook.”

“What, seriously” we all say all at once and equal parts excited and shocked.

“Yes I know Edenbrook is closing but I have done some soul searching and Edenbrook is where I need to be.”

“We are happy to have you back Aurora.” Says Casey.

“I am looking forward to being back.”

We all head to bed. Casey has trouble sleeping. She face times Ethan.

Ethan reluctantly answers. “Who is waking me up???” He grumbles rather angrily

“Now now Ethan, grouchy is my look!”

“Rookie? What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep”

“You look more exhausted than I feel, how is that possible?”

“I think I have gotten used to sleeping next to you. It probably why I can’t sleep.”

“If it makes you feel better I do miss you beside me too.”

We smile with a hint of sadness at each other.

“I suppose being in a whatever we are calling this is still new for both of us huh?” I say rather sleepily.

“Go to sleep rookie, you’ll be no good to anyone sleep deprived. Have a good sleep.”

“Good night Ethan.”

Casey ends the call and falls asleep. Ethan lies awake for a few minutes. Thoughts of why he did not tell her again go through his head. He knows that they need to have some time just them, and he hopes he can tell her truly how he feels.

A new normal starts to really set in for everyone. Working, more working and sleep with little time for not much else. Casey and her friends start looking for residency positions. They know they should place a better priority on looking however the new normal of Edenbrook takes up much of their time. They compete against each other for how many patients they see in one day, Ethan always beats them but he is encouraged that the mission is not lost on the next generation of doctors. Seeing Casey and her friends competing too reminds Ethan of his younger self and a conversation held long ago with Tobias. Both had hoped to enact change in a very profit driven system and work together doing that. That had not happened and a part of him was sad for the fallout. Again their most recent altercation came to mind. If he had been honest, he had given up on reconciling ages ago but that night gave a glimmer of hope and he had to make peace with the fact that any

Hope was again gone.

Ethan and Casey have still barely had a chance to see each other outside of work. Most of the time this does not bother them as by the end of their shifts they are too exhausted but it does start to annoy Ethan and he formulates a plan in his head.

Meanwhile, Casey is in the locker room putting her purse back from a coffee break at Derry Roasters. She spots Esme with a box.

“How are you Esme and what are you doing here?”

“Yeah well I have been suspended since you essentially told the hospital I murdered someone. Apparently wilful misconduct falls outside Edenbrook’s liability so I am being sued and charges have being laid.”

“I am sorry Esme....”

I want to say more but I am cut off by her.

“Yeah I thought you were meant to have my back.”

“And how could I when you would not tell me what happened? How could I when you blatantly disregarded my advice about feelings getting in the way? How could I when you could not even tell me without phrasing it as a hypothetical that you were asked to end a patient's life? How could I lie to the board when I could not lie to myself?”

Yeah well I suppose it helps when you have the big brass looking out for you?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh I did some digging, I know about the patient you killed last year and you got away scot free.”

“How dare you bring Mrs Martinez into this.”

“Yeah well how is that situation different from me now?”

My blood is boiling at this point- if she dared brought Ethan into this I knew I would snap.

“Firstly, myself and friends found some buried data that showed a treatment for another illness was a potential cure for Rhodes, despite their being a chance that the drug would not work she still wanted to take the chance. Yes there was a heist to get the treatment however I was denied it through proper channels.” Casey then takes another breath and braces for some talk back at her next point.

“Secondly, unlike you I chose to be honest, and chose to defend my choices via an ethics hearing.”

Esme raises an eyebrow

“Yeah where the great Ethan Ramsey defended you!”

My blood boils at this point as I know what she is insinuating.

“Ethan did not testify as he was not working for Edenbrook at the time and as such was unable to do so. I did however have other senior doctors who did so as well as witness testimony.”

“What, so him being too biased as to why he did not is a load of shit then?”

It takes all of my fortitude to not slap her. I know Ethan admitted to me that he was but I did not appreciate where this conversation was heading.

“Again, Ethan could not testify as he was not working at the time, that is the truth, if you would rather believe the malicious gossip, that is up to you.

I turn to walk out and state “I really wish I was able to be a better Mentor for you.”

“Yeah well you did teach me more than you know.” I then go and continue with my shift, feeling a little uneasy but at the same time glad I had gotten my feelings off my chest. Myself and Ethan somehow manage to have a break together and we have coffee in his old office.

“What’s up rookie?” He asked concerned.

“Gee no pulling the wool over your eyes is there? Well if you must know I did have a conversation with Esme. She has been suspended due to my testimony to the board. She also had the audacity to compare her situation to Mrs M. Let’s just say it has left me uneasy.”

Ethan gives me a hug. I take much comfort in his embrace and don’t want it to end despite the table looking very inviting at this point.

We finish our break and head back. “Don’t worry, I have not forgotten about making some time for the two of us properly out of this hospital. He then kisses me, his warm lips melting away all my worries. I deepen the kiss slightly and pull away. “I look forward to it.”

Several days pass. It is Saturday and Casey is in the diagnostics office filing and putting all the records into boxes. Ethan walks in.

“What are you doing here so late?” He states moving behind me.

“Takes one to know one I suppose Ethan.” I state

“Surely this can wait for another day.” He enquires.

“No, because then it will add to the ever growing to do.”

Ethan starts to massage me with his strong hands, unknotting some of the very knotted knots in my shoulders.

“I have had massages before but none have felt as good as this one.” I moan and roll my head back.

“Maybe because you have never needed one so badly?” Ethan says.

I lean back into him, turn my head and kiss him. Ethan returns the kiss and turns me around to deepen this kiss.

“This is hardly appropriate conduct in the workplace Ethan.” I say mockingly

“This is barely a work place anymore Casey.”

“Well in that case keep going with the massage.”

Ethan obliges. After awhile I can actually move my shoulders without muscles moving painfully against each other. I kiss Ethan again and burrow into his chest. He kisses my forehead and states I have done enough for the day and that there is dinner waiting for me at his place. I ask what we are having for dinner.

“Georgian stuffed chicken with the yummy tart we had the last time you came over for dessert.”

“Mmmmmm delicious....” I state, “nearly as delicious as the cook,” I say grinning mischievously.

We make our way to Ethan’s apartment. The table is already set and I sit down. Ethan serves dinner.

“Finally, it smells like it was worth the wait.” I say, remembering the last time I know Ethan made this. “I wish your dad did not steal the leftovers last time?” I say with a rueful smile. Ethan chuckles.

“I was quite hungry by the time it finished cooking so I did eat a bit myself also, but I was not going to begrudge my dad taking some back with him.”

I take a bite of the chicken , “mmm..Alan is forgiven, this is so worth the wait.”

“I am glad you like it, rookie.” Ethan says smiling and massaging his thumb on the outside of my hand. I give a small smile. We eat our dinner.

“That was so delicious...if I did not know any better Ethan Jonah Ramsey I swear you were trying to put me into a food coma.”

Ethan chuckles, “I think you did that of your own accord.”

“True, I think I had breakfast this morning.”

I hop up out of my chair and take my dishes to the kitchen. Ethan comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist and between kisses on my neck asks me if I am ready for dessert.

I move my head and kiss his jaw,

“Well depends on what dessert is.” Ethan chuckles

“Dark chocolate and cherry tart, same one we had the last time you were over.”

“Sounds delicious so I get to have you later then?” I say with a mischievous grin.

His eyes roll but I can see the desire in his eyes.

Ethan serves the dessert and pours two glasses of wine and asks me to join him on the couch. He turns the tv on and he has several episodes of Nigella Bites on the to watch queue.

“Don’t you watch anything else?”

“I do watch other non Nigella shows, yes but I thought you would enjoy some Nigella as a way to unwind.”

I settle in beside Ethan and eat my tart whilst we start watching Nigella.

Casey surprises herself when she realizes that she is really enjoying Nigella and how sensual she is whilst she is cooking.

“I can see why you enjoy her cooking, is it odd that I am somewhat turned on watching this?”

I move my hand up Ethan’s leg to the front of his pants and feel a familiar hardness in between his legs.

I reposition myself so I can kiss his neck and the sensitive spot behind his ear and then I whisper

“Does Nigella turn you on or are you just too happy to be alone with me?”

A low growl leaves Ethan’s mouth as he captures my lips in a hungry kiss. His hands make their way under my top. He breaks the kiss briefly, enough for me to breathe and I advise him that I would not stop him tonight. I kiss him with a hunger that matches his. He moves so that he is on top of me. His hands unbuttoning my blouse revealing a very sexy red bra. Ethan stares at it, and runs his hands across the material. I can feel my nipples harden and he does not miss the sensation either. He continues kissing down my neck and collarbone and I arch my back to enable my blouse to be completely removed. His hands continue to play with the material of my bra. It is a beautiful sensation which is heightened when he starts kissing on the outline of the bra. A moan escapes my lips. He moves his way back up to my lips. I ease his shirt off, the kiss broken momentarily to get it off. He takes my bra off revealing my breasts. His breath catches and then mutters in between kisses “God, I have missed you!” Before lavishing my chest with attention. I start to feel a build up of pleasure between my legs.

“Ethan” I breathlessly moan as his hand moves his way to zipper of my skirt. After removing my skirt I fumble with his belt buckle and then his jeans. Once he is free of his jeans and his boxers, he starts kissing my stomach and hips. His hands remove my underwear as he starts to pepper my thighs in kisses. A pleading moan escapes my mouth. His kisses move north, frustrating me immensely until I feel his fingers at my centre. “Oh god Ethaaaannnn...” I moan as his fingers circle my clit. “I can’t believe how wet you are for me rookie” he says in my ear. My hand makes his way between his legs to his rock hard cock “like as much as your rock hard for me right now?” A groan leaves his mouth as he moves his mouth to my centre. His tongue teases my folds then move to my already sensitive clit. The noise that leaves my mouth is half moan half scream as his tongue flicks my clit. He then inserts two fingers inside and angles them to find that spot. He then works his fingers and mouth in tandem “fuck Ethan” I scream as he drives me closer and closer to the edge. He then teasingly he slows down and holds me there. “Not yet rookie” he moves up and peppers my neck with kisses while his fingers go to work. He brings me back to the brink and I start to clench oh so hard as my body reaches its climax. Ethan quickens his his pace. “Fucking hell Ethaaannn!!!” I scream as my body reaches its climax. Ethan moves so that he kisses my forehead, it takes me a few minutes to be able to articulate anything. “That was freaking amazing Ethan” I say. “I’m just getting started.” He then sits up. I sit up and position myself facing him on his lap. I kiss him, there is a mix of chocolate, wine and me in his mouth. It is intoxicating. I rock my hips, teasing him with how wet I am for him. I can tell he is anxious to enter me but I am having fun teasing him. “You feel amazing rookie” he whispers into my ear. I kiss his lips again and position him so that he can enter me. I slowly work my way down, his groans getting deeper as he penetrates further. Once he is in I start to rock slowly, sliding up and down his shaft. I know he is enjoying this but I can not not help but moan also. Ethan takes this as an invitation to start thrusting his hips. We quickly find a rhythm. I kiss and bite his neck. “You feel so good Casey” he moans. I quicken our pace and whisper to to go harder. He responds not only going harder but deeper. I let out another half moan and scream. He kisses me hungrily on the lips. We continue at our current rhythm and I feel the pressure build. I clench tighter as his cock is thrust deeper inside. I feel his movements become more erratic and I know he is close.

“Casey” he calls out. I move faster bringing me even closer again. He moves his hand to my centre and massages my clit. “Fuck....”I scream unable to even think straight let alone say anything. I climax again screaming and then collapse onto Ethan’s chest and he follows soon after.

We stay there for what seems like ages, neither of us able to regain our breath quickly. Eventually I slide off his lap and lay down on the couch. “I don’t think words can describe how accurately I feel right now.” He smiles at me. He suggests we go to bed and I agree, I try to get up but my legs are still wobbly. He holds me up as he guides me to his room. I fall into bed and just about fall asleep straight away. Ethan climbs into bed and cuddles her. “Glad to have you back in my bed rookie” and he falls asleep.

It is morning and Casey wakes up, she is surprised to see Ethan in bed with her still. “Morning Rookie” he says as he plants a kiss on her head. “Good morning” I mumble. Ethan puts his arms around me and I cuddle into him.

“Do we have to get get up?”

“Yes we do, but we do have a later start in theory today.”

I kiss him. “This is nice I say.

“Yes it is,” he replies. He kisses me back and advises that he is going to make a start on breakfast. I have a shower, thankful that I brought my work bag with me so I had a fresh set of clothes. I make my way to the kitchen and coffee is already waiting for me. Ethan has made French toast with berries and it is delicious. We go for a walk around the bay area before we head into work. He asks me how the application process is going. I state that we are looking but with the hours we are putting in, we have not put as high priority on it as we should. Casey so desperately wants to tell him why she is at an impasse with her residency applications, she wants to tell him so badly how much she loves him but decides not to ruin this moment right here right now. Ethan kisses her gently. “I really enjoyed last night and this morning.”

“Me too.” I reply. “We definitely need to do this again.” I kiss him gently and then I pull away. He smiles.

“I agree, we do need to do this again and soon.” We then head to work.

Casey bumps into Sienna after a couple of hours. She asks where I was last night. “Sorry Si, I forgot to let you know I was fine. I went to Ethan’s for dinner and stayed the night.

“Its ok Casey, I did figure you must have been alright.” Sienna advised me that we are having a roomie dinner on Wednesday night. Looking forward to it already. Work is still busy but it is starting to wind down slowly.

It is Wednesday and Casey has a rare afternoon off with her roomies. They are in the dining room doing applications. They apply for anywhere and everywhere, despite Casey wishing to remain local and not at Solomon Kenmore. We are all looking forward to our dinner that night but we are also secretly hoping it will not be our last, even though at this point it seems like it will be. We then get ready and head downtown to a bar. Casey orders the first round, she orders three rounds of shots. Everyone seems bemused at the number and presume more people are coming. Casey advises that we can handle this. They all take the shots. They are very sweet. The gang reflects on the good times. Casey meanwhile messages Kyra and she joins them. Everyone is happy to see her. “Yeah I figured I was missing some fun when I saw the spelling errors. After a couple more drinks the tone turns serious. To friends lost. Casey had been trying to suppress much of her guilt for surviving. She never really spoke much about it. The most she had spoken to anyone about it in any detail was Ethan, and of course Dr Jensen. What Casey hears next surprises her. “I feel bad that I survived my surgery and yet two people who I got to know fairly well died. It just is not fair. When I could not save Edenbrook, I fear I failed them.”

“Don’t feel bad Kyra!” I say, “If they were still here they would be proud of the effort that we have put in over the last few months. They will be glad that we have kept going. That night still gives me nightmares, they have lessened a lot now and I can walk past that room and not see their ghosts anymore, but the events of that day will never me, will never leave us. The only person who deserves to suffer for what happened is the asshole who did it and it is comforting to think he is burning in hell for what he did. To Bobby and Danny” we all raise our glasses and drink. Aurora then states that even Tobias felt bad for what happened. He had courted the senator and Travis and even he missed that Travis may have been up to something sinister, especially since Tobias sold him on the seclusion of the wing he was in.”

“Despite what went down between him and Ethan, I am glad he came when he did. Me and Raf would not be here if it were not for him and the team.”

We all nod in agreement.

We are all varying levels of drunk and decide to go to the rooftop of the hospital. We make our way to the roof and continue our party. We play music and sing along. Raf looks at the helicopter on the helipad. I ask him if he misses going on the helicopter for call outs.

“Not really, when the chopper was needed it was normally very intense. I don’t fully miss the job at all. The incident has made me appreciate how precious all life is.”

We then join our friends as the frivolity continues. After awhile Ethan emerges from the hospital, curious to find out where all the noise is coming from. “I can hear you all from the seventh floor!” He says. Bryce offers him a beer which he takes. He makes his way over to me and sits down. I lean into his shoulder. Sorry for interrupting your work Ethan I say. He hold my hand and squeezes it. “Its fine rookie, I needed the break anyway.” We sit there, holding hands and enjoying the view. He asked me what I was doing on Sunday. I state that I was free.

“Would you like to have brunch with me, rookie?” He asked

“Brunch would be lovely.” I reply, and then kiss him on the cheek.

Ethan is happy. He tells me that the restaurant is near his house and says I can stay the night before if I wish. He finishes his beer and heads back down.

It is Saturday evening, before Ethan and Casey’s first official date. Ethan is making pasta for dinner whilst Casey is sitting at the island working on her applications.

“How are the applications going?”

“Happening would be the most accurate description.”

“I meant what I said when I first told you about the cuts, you are an outstanding resident, you will land on your feet anywhere.”

“Despite my intern’s drama?”

“That was not your fault Rookie” he says while he comes over and gives her a hug from behind. “You did the best you could given the circumstances.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better Ethan, I still feel I should have done more, even though I do not know what more I could have done.”

Casey rests her head in the crook of his shoulder.

“We do need to talk about us Ethan, but can we do it another time?”

Ethan knows what the talk will be about. He has tried not to think too much about it. He himself was unsure what he was going to do. It was also bugging him that they had not defined their relationship, despite everything going well so far.

“Yes we do and I promise we will.” Casey smiles. The pasta is ready and Casey and Ethan tuck in.

After dinner they watch The Imitation Game. And then head to bed.

It is Sunday. Ethan and Casey get up and go for a walk to a small restaurant not far from Ethan’s for brunch. The restaurant is called Chez Panisse Cafe. They sit down to brunch. They spend their time talking about everything from more of Ethan’s childhood in Providence, Casey’s family, college, Jenner. Casey even tells Ethan how his book inspired her to apply for medical school. Ethan did not know how to feel about that. Casey squeezes his hand. “Are you alright Ethan?”

“Yes I am, Just humbling that I am the reason you pursued a career in medicine.”

“Yeah like it is humbling that I am on a date with the man who inspired me to pursue a career in medicine.” Casey smiles and squeezes his hand. “Life is full of surprises.”

Ethan and Casey then go for a walk around the bay district, hand in hand.

“Feels nice not being in hiding” I say quietly as we walk along the waterfront. He kisses my hands. We sit down.

“I agree it does feel nice to be out in the open. And on that note, if there is anytime you wish to stay over let me know.”

“Really Ethan?”

“Really.” Gently kissing me on top of my head.

We continue our walk and then I start giggling. Ethan asks me what is so funny.

“Here we are on our first official date and your telling me I am free to stay over whenever I want. Moving pretty fast don’t you think?”

“So are you saying you want to rescind the offer?”

“No, of course not, I mean most people date then get to this point, our whatever this is, has being a little unorthodox so to speak, especially with the in secret part.”

“Don’t think I have not noticed you keeping it fairly professional at work either, Casey.”

“A lot of that is force of habit, also if things do go pear shaped, it will hopefully have less impact on our work, events post Dagger Mountain would be case en point.”

“This is true.”

We make our way back to Ethan’s apartment to collect my things so I can go back to my place.

“Oh and Ethan, as first dates go, this has been great.” I say then kiss him. He returns the kiss, and then tells me he is glad that I have had a good time.

Later that night, Casey is chatting with Sienna and filling her on her date with Ethan.

“So still dodging that talk huh?”

“I know, I think we both know it is going to be an animated discussion and that will be putting it mildly. Things are good finally Si, I just want to enjoy it.”

“Well I am glad you are happy”

Later that night Casey is getting ready for bed.Casey grabs her phone and starts a message.

CV: good night Ethan 😗😘

ER: Good night rookie

Casey drifts off to sleep, despite knowing what discussions need to happen she is oddly contented.

Meanwhile Ethan is lying in bed, working on his laptop, working on his working reference for Casey. He is finding this recommendation hard to write. He knows how much of a brilliant doctor that she is becoming but a part of him is sad that there is a chance that he may not be directly responsible for her career and this thought terrifies him. Or is he terrified of losing her again. “Damnit Ethan, you need to get your shit in order and tell her how you feel!” He rereads what he had written and completed the recommendation before turning in for the night.

——-

Authors note: No I have not miraculously found a tonne of spare time. In essence I am copy and pasting the original into a document and then I am changing/updating the bits that I know need updating and adding to other bits as I see fit. Thank you those who have read and commented so far. There are two more parts after this.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @genevievemd @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter @cariantha @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @lucy-268 @schnitzelbutterfingers @binny1985

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[brunetteaura]

63 / 52 / 54 / 42 !! Love u eternally 🫶👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

well hello my treasure its been a long time (we havent spoken for 5 minutes) i adore you btw

63. what are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex?

ive grown to stop feeding into the idea that girls should never make the move when it comes to relationships with guys. if something bothers you/you want to talk about your feelings etc just fucking speak up!!!!! life is so short. genuinely too short for us to put ourselves in a box and expect the other person to know whats on our minds. another thing which is within the context but can be applied to a relationship with anyone, is the fear and inability to ask for help. sometimes we as girls think we're gonna appear weak if we do so bc the society has already been making us feel like we are inherently inferior but god i wish we were more brave sometimes. i say we because im guilty of this too. the third thing that crossed my mind rn is how some girls put other girls down as if to validate themselves. i know its a thing to call yourself a hater on the internet and be quirky about it but lately ive genuinely had enough of it like why do you feel the need to shit on a girl's taste on anything. its already hard enough being one in this world and as much as i love gossip and joking around abt these things i think its a very slippery slope and it can get messy bc there needs to be room for girls of all kinds. this one is all over the place but it makes sense to me <3

52. name one thing that terrifies you

being held hostage. mentally and physically im mortified even thinking about me not being able to get out of the hole i could be put into. im scared of not being able to overcome things id have to deal with at some point and i always believe i will but this actually does cross my mind from time to time

54. what would you tell your 12 year old self?

that its not gonna be easy and that life will be funny sometimes and youll want to kill yourself but youll come out strong. please dont ever underestimate yourself and the power that you hold. i love you so much and youre gonna be so proud of yourself in 10 years. this is only the beginning and i do it for you.

42. favorite place to shop at?

ive loved urban outfitters since i was a teenager but they dont have it in madrid!!!!!! this is the worst thing that can happen to a girl

[bbarican]

july 30, 2023; 7:21 pm - life updates

hi, tumblr! its been a minute ~ how are you guys? isnt it so weird that july just decided to be a blip and is now over like it never actually happened even though it was a super busy month? either way, im here to update ya'll on how ive been and other things and if youre interested, just keep reading along; either way, i love you!

family:

bittersweetly, wala na kaming bisita sa bahay; ang weird kasi my mom pointed out na we had visitors nga pala ever since may, thats a lot of time to have people over at your house and to not have privacy; it is sad though to have the house this quiet again but i, glad for the memories we all made over the course of everyone's stay

i treated my mom to a mani pedi session yesterday and it was really nice and relaxing; i finally got my nails done again and im so happy!

other than the aforementioned, we dont have a lot going on except the fact that we're going to a lunch buffet on saturday so atleast we have something to look forward to

im just really excited for the rest of the year and what that holds for me and my family

personal life:

im in a much better headspace and i am truly grateful for whatever or whoever helped me along the way

july was tough kasi i kept pushing myself to my limit without really noticing and again its very bittersweet kasi a part of me is super proud na i can actually juggle so much but at the same time my mind was not doing okay

but im glad im better now; maybe it was just a bad and busy week but i know for a fact na hindi lang yun yung week na ganun sa buong buhay ko so atleast now i know i can actually handle it

i finished reading happy place by emily henry already and i love that book so much; it being about people around my age made it all the more relatable + its super funny + it hits a little too close to home knowing that im the same as the protagonist; overall, its such a great book and i wish i could read it for the first time ulit

been trying to download bumble again pero literally my phone wont let me kasi it always prompts me to fix my payment method sa apple id which is totally fine btw but it always ends up being in error so i just take that as a sign na downloading bumble is just gonna be a waste of time anyway

i need to buy clothes kasi 1.) i wanna invest in them (again, my mom has a point na i need to stop repeating my outfits as much as i do) and 2.) i have an event to go to on the 11th ata so i need to dress up for that

i also want to sell some of my stuff kasi day by day i just keep realizing na i have so much stuff and instead of throwing them away, might as well make some money out of them

work:

im relieved that work is better now; not as busy, but busy enough to keep me on my feet without actually killing me mentally

i love my officemates; i love how the board takers are back and that the noise is back too

na approve na din kaagad yung revisions namin for our community library project which means we get to go to ikea already and purchase the stuff we wanted to for the project

feels kinda weird din talaga to not have been able to go to the office for a week cause of the weather kaya tomorrow im really gonna push myself to go kahit na alam kong uulan parin kasi i just know im gonna be lazy as fuck if i dont go to the office nanaman

regarding our team building, again, im not so keen on pushing through with it this august kasi 1.) its raining, 2.) mahal na since we're booking for the same dates, and 3.) again, i have no idea what our budget is to begin with so its really hard to plan anything anyway

and yeah, thats it for my life updates ~ im beyond excited for august, so here's to making the last day of july super fun and productive and memorable in whatever way it could be

ingat kayong lahat especially since for sure uulan parin this week!

[eileenwdj]

this is the headcanon brainrot anon and i just wanted to ask if I could just drop tgcf brainrot here and if so, i just lowkey wanted to talk about how intriguing a female mu qing would be in a spider!mq au.

like hear me out

this poor girl who everyone just sees as lesser 9 she's crossdressing in this hc of mine bc it seems more realistic that way tbh with how xianle is portrayed) who has no sort of status or stepping stone or anything to help suffers so much and quite literally ascends from her strength and is bitten and given powers only for her to be told that she's 'unworthy' of it and her just fighting against every judgement passed on her.

I just was thinking abt this for some reason. It also hits harder if somehow this double perception exists in the heavenly realm too and it's like the ling wen situation but reversed - the south west sees her as a strong martial god and a woman but everyone else denies it bc how could a female martial god exist and the same goes for zhizhu jiangjun. post-canon she'd probably shed the whole farce or straight up deny how ppl try to tell her story.

exhales yeah that's the brainrot I've been having. I lowkey want to write a fic on it but I wanted to ask for your permission since spider!mq is your creation (and honestly a galaxy brain idea)

I'm so sorry for how long this is. 😭😭😭

very sorry for only replying now ive been so busy with work and barbie i forgot to open tumblr asgsjkdks

MY GOD FEM MU QING 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ so much angst potential for fem mq. the way other people would try to make claims on and police what she can or can't do and how much it fucks her up mentally.... only for her to turn things around and reclaim her story as her own in the end AUEGHRHDHRHR

AND YEAH PLEAS PLEASE WRITE IT OMG im always welcome for others to write or make things based on the stuff i create, i'm amazed you guys even like it in the first place.... I'D BE HONORED EVEN 😭💖🫶🙏

[aristotels]

re: wednesday

1) i had fun watching it

2) it also sucks

like personally i rly related to wednesday. I used to be a lot like her when growing up. i was p mentally ill, and was obsessed w death and murder since i was young (perks of ocd intrusive thoughts and paranoia and delusions). i used to write a lot back then, mostly criminalistic stories, lots of murders, etc and had professors and family call me morbid and always judge me for my sarcastic tone and resting, unemotional face. emotions are hard for me. expression is hard for me. but it was met w so much judgement and its obvious i was a disappointment in their eyes for "not being normal".

hell, i had a word-for-word argument w my roommate in college, like enid had w wednesday. that roommate (ok, i wasnt a saint, but she was a fucking bitch too) had the same spiel as enid: "I TRIED SO HARD TO BE YOUR FRIEND" and just couldnt understand i dont like conversing and being bestie roomies or whatever she had in mind. i was too poor to afford my own flat, so i lived in the dorm. and she just couldnt understand i dont want to paint our nails together and talk abt ~boys. (also she was so weird abt my sexuality for some reason and it made me so uncomfortable???) anyway, i just wanted a place to sleep and sit at my laptop w my headphones and chill. and i told her that. and she still kept invading my privacy, all under guise of "wanting to fix me". (anyway, my next roommate did the same thing but at least she wasnt a bitch. she just wanted a more extroverted and talkative companion which was totally ok. and she moved out, and i finally snapped and called a psych and got a single room bc of my mental illnesses so it was all good)

but also the show is so... shallow. it tried to relate outcasts to being queer but there isnt literally a single queer character in the show? enid couldve so easily been trans. like at least that fucking "conversion therapy for wolves" (literally the worst line ive ever heard in my life) wouldve made some fucking sense. and i think itd rly add to her character and struggle w identity. and i mean she wolfs out in the end anyway which... shallow solution to the whole idea they tried to portray.

wednesday too. apparently the solution to her issues of loneliness was just "get a boyfriend!!!". idk what they thought w the whole heterosexual love triangle but it sucked af. cmon. make her a lesbian. make her bi. or make her aroace if you want to go that route, which would be also v in line w her character, and perhaps the best option.

bianca was okay. the actress is gorgeous, and i rly wish they wouldve given her more depth. literally ALL characters are so one-dimensional. wednesday is interesting on her own but good shows dont revolve around just the protagonist. you need a good cast and you need people to care about them and this show doesnt do it.

i generally liked the wrap-up of the murder mystery, but it might be bc i personally love good guys turning out to be villains. so mad abt gwendolyn dying tho, she was the literal star of the show

but anyway yeah. its ok, but also cringe af, it lacks queer chars in a story abt people who are textbook definition of "queer" (as in: weird, odd), wednesday is kinda a mary-sue at some points, its super tween, shallow, brings no points across, and has no depth to characters.

i had fun watching wednesday act like i did tho so idk ill prob watch the next season when it comes out

[phantalgia]

Another Day of Feeling Sick...

Perhaps I should just use dates as journal entries. I’m not sure. Every thing I post feels more like a journal entry than anything else.

Is this chronically ill or will this just pass? That's something that is taking up my mind right now. So I made the booboo of staying up late last night and part of that was working on that last post. I don’t know why I needed to. I could have canned it for later.

Good Afternoon

I woke up at around 1 pm or just before it. I went to bed late as hell and I have to be up tomorrow early for my ultrasound. I really don’t feel good this morning. Maybe not the worst. But I just don’t feel good. I’m nauseous, slightly feverish, my body feels very sensitive (I don’t know how to describe it), and a little shakey.

Again, Ive been stuck like this since surgery earlier in the year and I think it's an extention of the Long Covid and possible long term POTS Ive had before. I’m still reluctant to call it POTS, it's just I don’t have any other way of calling it. I don’t have an official diagnosis. Long Covid is a yes for sure.

And now with getting Covid again I don’t know what to think. My mind just keeps doubting how I feel. Some days are good, some days are bad. Some hours are good, some bad. It's driving me nuts.

I just keep wondering what if this just blows over? What would it all have been for?

I Can't Stand the Medical Industry

I really cant. I mean when I feel sick it's just kind of like Ive been through this song and dance for two years with no end or answers in sight. I have a basic understanding of how the medical industry has been shaped by capitalism. Essentially reducing humans to how effeciently can we get people back to work. Frankly, this entire system has not even been able to do that for me, ever.

I Never Worked

I never worked and never managed to get my diploma. It's a long story, but I couldn't do it. Being institutionalized for mental health issues hasn't produced any results for me. In fact, insurance didn't want to pay anymore so I had to leave in the middle of being in out-patient programs. At that point I was left to my own devices. Pretty much stewing in my own frustrations and angst.

I think now that these health things that have happened it became clear that whatever they diagnosed me with is not a complete picture. It feels that way for me.

Getting Tested

I was given a full psychological evaluation by probably the worst person you can think of. Essentially I was tested for ASD, Bipolar, Depression, Anxiety. It wasnt anything new. I was depressed and anxious. There was apparently a blip I guess you could say of ASD, but it wasn't enough to call it ASD, whatever that means.

And then finally I got lectured by this guy about how I probably need to be put in a "home" somewhere against my will. A place where I can finally reintegrate with society. I got asked what I was going to do if my Dad was gone. Essentially making me more nervous and scared. So, learned nothing new, a little blip of ASD, but it's not ASD, and get lectured and scared shitless for a few thousand dollars. Amazing...

Maybe Not ASD but ADHD and or OCD?

But what they didn't test me for was ADHD and OCD. A waste of like thousands of dollars. Because as soon as me and my psychatrist looked into ADHD and OCD, something started to become much more clearer. In fact, I kind of tested highly for ADHD and some OCD when I did a self assesment with him. I took that paper home and even did it twice to make sure I still felt the same way about my answers weeks just before my next visit.

But a lot of that was lining up with what was happening to me in school. Anxiety, trouble concentrating, obsession with perfection and proper study habits, a very fixed mindset, my mind would wonder, I couldn't focus by the time noon hit especially during math, I would pace around the house at home, my mind would just keep moving and moving non-stop.

Where I Stand Today

I pretty much self diagnosed myself as ADHD/OCD. Unfortunately I cant be medicated yet for reasons I have explained in prior posts. I think it's quite possible I may be on the Autism Spectrum as it's very hard to diagnose in adults from my own research and you need actual expertise and they can cost you a lot of money. I mean if I've been masking this entire time, of course I’m not going to "look" Autistic.

Obviously, that's an ableist way to put it. But the reality is we live in a very ableist society, there's no getting around that. If you don’t fit the "norm" you're left out of economic system and society at large. In a lot of ways to me, Good! I don’t want to be around you people and this economic system. You fuckers decide who gets to be called abled or disabled and even then it's still tearing us apart regardless!

We're going to have many more disabled people coming as Covid continues to cause mayhem and destruction. On team Red with Trump, they call it a hoax, just a flu, or tell you to drink bleach. On team Blue, they gaslight you by saying the pandemic is over. Which is sort of true, just that it's fucking endemic now. So it's two sides of the same coin of Covid denialism just to keep business as usual. And let me tell you:

COVID SHOULD HAVE BEEN EVIDENCE THAT CAPITALISM IS INCAPABLE OF RESPONDING TO CRISISES LIKE COVID. IT WILL CONTINUE TO DISABLE MORE WORKING PEOPLE. WE NEED AN ALTERNATIVE NOW!

That won’t happen, instead Covid became a culture war issue of course.

Anyway, that was a side rant. I'd love to talk about how Covid didnt become a tool to create class conciousness and instead became a culture war issue some other time.

ASD Makes Sense to Me But Also Doesn't

I don’t know, when I look at what accounts for ASD. I see a pattern. Some sentitivity to certain stimuli (especially water and groups of people and hugging), obsessions over interests, trouble with social cues, stimming, trouble responding to people's emotions. I don’t know, it just also doesn't make sense to me because I don’t have an issue with eye contact and I'm more able to respond to other's emotions. Maybe not too well and it gets overwhelming for me at times. But I do like to be around people that like to show some vulnerability. I think the opposite is just...oh don’t get me started XD.

Perhaps I’m not understanding the Autism Spectrum as concise as I can. I probably just butchered the entirety of what it is in the last paragraph but I don't know. I hate this desperation for answers to your woes. It's nuts. And I got other things to worry about that complicate it like...

My Physical Health Makes It Harder to Tell If I Have ADHD/OCD and or ASD

I mean I can't sit upright or concentrate generally, I’m fatigued by the end of a school day, get a throbbing headache. I mean it's nuts. So there was that in the mix of all of this. And if I do have dysautonomia or POTS then it would make sense why it feels like I have ADHD. You get adrenaline surges. But I also start stimming? I mean I stim a lot and pace and ruminate all the time non-stop.

The only way to really know is to have this holistic understanding of myself, look at each thing and see where they fit in the bigger picture that makes up me. I just want the peace of mind, the relief to know anything at all. Just nothing feels right. Mentally and physically. And it's making me lose my mind.

I Don’t Like Labels...*

There's a little weird paradox amidst all of this. I’m not too crazy about labels*. I'll let Alexander Avila take this away. It's a long video so maybe watch it when you can:

Really, the video just kind of says that labels, mental health, and maybe even disability in general is just a thing we call amidst a capitalist society. As with any society, there's new ways of reframing human phenomenon. Whether it be you were possesed by the holy spirit or affected by a chemical imbalance or told you may not work again because of a physical disability.

But there's a good point at the end...the labels are useful in modern context and are needed to get the care, what little there is, people need. So they're inescapable much like how capitalism feels inescapable.

I’m More Than Just a Label and Don’t Want to Be Reduced to It

So theyre useful, necessary even. And I may even crave them, especially in this moment. I can't really live without the labels because that's just how the system is designed right now. But I can at least acknowledge that I’m more than just my labels. I don’t want my labels to create a black and white world. I want the labels to make me feel empowered and get the agency I need.

Perhaps in another world...

Perhaps in another world we would acknowledge that everyone is different and may require different needs than others and we can get rid of this black and white thinking that comes with the moniker "disability". Where the disabled may be able to find where they can fit amongst the world and not be babied or treated as some pathetic class of people. This, in my mind can only be done under some form of libertarian socialist model. It just can't be done in any other way.

Libertarian socialism would free each individual and each will be able to realize their fullest potential and get the assistance they need to fully understand themselves and their needs. They will mingle amongst their minds, connect with their bodies, and connect with others and communicate in ways never before imagined.

Healthcare wouldn't be reduced to black and white thinking, and production and turned into a real system of care and humanity and a sense of belonging. It would go along with the individual in their journey of self discovery as the healthcare system learns itself at the same time.

The disabled individual would be free to decide how they can and can't work or participate in how they see fit. They would get the assistance they need from the community, the creative ideas from them, and feel like they're a proper member of the community.

The disabled individual would neither be seen as pathetic or as some "poster boy" of inspiration when they "go against all odds". They would just be like everyone else, a human being with unique needs. They will retain the autonomy they need as much as anyone else.

Final Thoughts

I don’t know what's going on with me yet or if there will be an end in sight for me. I don’t know what's going on with me mentally and probably won’t because of how expensive it is to know. But I can say is I just don’t want to live in this type of world anymore. I want a better one that sees me as human.

I think I'll meet people eventually where we can get together and help each other out and find out how we can live amongst the chaos. I have faith. I have faith in anyone reading this that you too may find that place and the right people who have the same mindset.

We're in this together, we'll find our way, we'll do our best...

[meowingfawn]

my relation to my fict. types

a little self explanatory, a post about (at least some of) what connects me to my ficto kintypes honestly for some it isnt super clear, brain just went 'me'. i think ill leave the ones that have that feeling out since i wont really have much to say about them

i think all of these guys also have the feeling of "thats me" so i wont be including that in the info, but i do feel connected to them all with a sense of, thats me.

with that stated, lets start!

frisk

trauma, also probably influenced by a connection to undertale as a whole. i think the other ways i feel like them other than trauma are like, appearance, feeling pure of heart in a way while also feeling like you are the farthest from innocent. undertale feels like a familiar place to me, even though i actually was never heavily involved the fandom (and i dont even know all/majority of the lore! ive never done a genocide run, or seen a playthrough of one. just bits and pieces of a lot of lore)

steven universe

trauma heavily, its actually kind of weird how similar our traumas are, as well as literally so many small aspects of our lives. i could go on and on about things in our lives that are basically mirrored but not sure if i would feel comfortable with that lmao. other than that, yet again i am very bonded to steven universe as a franchise. the places dont feel the same as undertale, i can assume this is because undertale is a game and i usually feel like i am 'there' when im playing games, and shows you dont really get that, more so just observing everything. (unless you make fan content or indulge in fanfiction ofc)

twice/jin bubaigawara

trauma and sense of identity. i have really weird system stuff that i feel relates to twice's experiences. also, strange addition to this but i find that i do the back and forth with myself like twice does, im not sure if its my tics or what but sometimes i will just say stuff that sounds aggressive and i follow it up by something more sweet, or trying to comfort or apologize to whatever i just insulted or complained about (its like. almost always not actually a person). not sure if ive done that recently, tbh i dont pay attention to it much anymore.

himiko toga

honestly, i feel her obsessive behavior very much, its somewhat a cope on my end but mentally ill as i am i have become very obsessed with people like this sometimes! as well as just. being very not normal about men sometimes, plinKing rn. (/ref) this one is pretty personal to me but i feel like i take some comfort in relating to toga. i do feel like i have been doing better mentally when it comes to this stuff, but it still makes me feel better to hold her close in my mind and know she is just like me.

tomura shigaraki

i need to rewatch mha. i need to rewatch mha...i dont remember that much about this kin feeling- i think honestly it was getting muddled between system-related stuff and kin stuff, but i do still feel a connection to shigaraki, i feel like its wishy washy on if he feels like 'me' or not. still included it for the sake of saying this

gir

EXTREME silly, just like me. weirdly emotionally shifting between upset and silly, and also sometimes serious. relate. also i am such a little guy, i am !!!!!