#like i said then: new year new me babey!

[aranarumei]

the anomalous agate (part four)

hello, all. we've made it to the home stretch! this is the last main chapter of the anomalous agate—there's an epilogue after this, as well as bonus extra set more in the world of hanzawa to tashiro. I've also been playing around with the idea of doing a sort of… director's commentary? something like that. where I get to indulge and talk about some of my thoughts.

for anyone who has no idea what this is about, go here for part one

for those who do, here's the ao3 link, and if you prefer tumblr, it's just under the cut

case 2-x: the anomalous agate (part 4)

Sunlight set the streets before me aglow. It was, by all accounts, the warmest day in autumn we’d had this year, and I was beginning to sweat. There was a restless kind of itch inside my skin that I couldn’t seem to quell. Part of it was the bruise—the mark had faded, but now the area of pale purple felt consistently irritated. 

The other part was the fact that it was Saturday afternoon. Richard had closed the shop to make a special house call, and it was only now that I realized I’d spent the majority of every weekend working in Ginza. Rather than feel like I was chomping at the bit, though, the sudden free time left my skin itching to head into Jewelry Étranger like always. 

After poring over my various options, I’d decided to spend my day off on various chores and errands. I was currently on my way to the supermarket, but in the absence of any attractive deals awaiting me, I was dragging my feet in the afternoon heat. While looking around for a reasonable distraction, my attention was waylaid by the sight of the café I’d entered just over a week ago, and after considering its merit as a temperature-controlled room as well as my flagging enthusiasm for shopping, I decided to enter. 

The moment I stepped inside, a cooling breeze swept over my skin, and I was immediately refreshed. Then I scanned for a free seat and caught sight of a familiar head of black hair. A chill skittered up my spine; the person in question turned around and froze the moment our eyes met. 

Hanzawa Masato’s mouth parted in an involuntary ‘O’ shape, and I knew, again, that I was bearing witness to a scene I shouldn’t have seen. I thought about tucking myself into a different corner of the café, but the person he was sitting with had already spotted me, and obliviously waved me over. 

Hanzawa’s companion was a boy with half-dyed hair, the natural dark brown color abruptly transitioning into a sharp blond-gold. In the time it had taken me to approach them, he’d moved to sit next to Hanzawa, leaving a free seat for me on the other side. I took the offered seat awkwardly, wondering if there was any normal way to introduce myself. 

Thankfully, Hanzawa took the lead in greeting me. “…It’s nice to see you, Seigi.” 

“…It’s nice to see you too, Hanzawa.” As shocked as he’d been when we’d first made eye contact, he didn’t look irritated or out of sorts. I addressed the person next to him. “And you are…?” 

“Tashiro Gonzaburou! Is it fine if I call you Seigi, too?” 

“Sure,” I said, a little stunned by his easygoing smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Tashiro.” 

Before we could get too deep into a conversation, I ordered an iced americano. Hanzawa took a careful sip of his milk tea—it wasn’t the kind that Richard liked, but I wondered if that was why Hanzawa had asked for the royal milk tea in our first meeting. 

Once I’d gotten my drink in hand, Tashiro asked, “So how’d you meet Hanzawa-senpai, anyways?” 

Before I could muster up a vague enough answer that would satisfy a guy who seemed wholly blunt and direct, Hanzawa cut in with a response. “Seigi works at a jewelry store in Ginza,” he said. He addressed me: “I was under the impression you worked weekends?” 

There wasn’t a hint of turmoil on his face. I thought I’d gotten better at reading him, but I had no idea what he was thinking at the current moment. The circumstances through which I’d met Kaede were kind of awkward, so maybe it wasn’t right to explain… but it wasn’t like these were non-awkward circumstances, either. 

“Oh—well, yeah, that’s normally the case,” I said. “But Richard’s making a house call today, so the shop’s closed… we’ll be open tomorrow, though.” That was at least double the words necessary for an explanation. It wasn’t like Hanzawa was going to show up and buy something—he didn’t need me to prattle on about the exact specifics of Jewelry Étranger’s schedule. 

“A jeweler’s store?” Tashiro mused out loud before clapping his hands in epiphany. “Hanzawa-senpai, were you buying earrings?” 

“…Perhaps?” I’d seen Hanzawa be reticent with information before, but the tone of his voice here was an obvious tease. 

With a put-upon sigh, Tashiro asked, “I guess you’re just allergic to straight answers, huh?” At Hanzawa’s answering smile, he added, “Are you finally going to tell me how many piercings you actually have?” 

Hanzawa seemed to consider it for a long time, before simply declaring, “That’s no fun—I’ll let you keep guessing.” 

For all that I’d worried about an awkward situation, Hanzawa and Tashiro were more than able to carry conversation. Rather than cultivate a sense of unease, Hanzawa’s air of mystery had turned into something almost playful, something which Tashiro’s presence seemed to actively encourage. The two people sitting across from me both carried an inherent kind of charm—from Tashiro, so natural he likely didn’t notice it himself, and a deep, practiced consideration from Hanzawa’s end. I would have been fine just watching them talk to each other, but Hanzawa took note of my sense of distance and conscientiously pulled me into a discussion about various customers that had passed through Jewelry Étranger. We began to trade stories about the interesting people we’d encountered—Hanzawa had stories about almost anything, and Tashiro helped out at a bathhouse near his home that was full of interesting characters. 

Still, I couldn’t help but feel the sense that I was a third wheel in this situation. 

During a lull in the conversation, Tashiro tilted Hanzawa’s drink towards him and took an exploratory sip. “You got a new flavor,” he observed. “Don’t you usually stick with the same one?” 

Hanzawa’s gaze lowered towards Tashiro, slumped forward on the table in the perfect picture of relaxation, Hanzawa’s drink in hand. He tilted his drink back towards him and took a sip. “It is college,” he said. “I think you’re meant to loosen up a little.”

“And have all-night karaoke sessions?” Tashiro replied with a laugh. He straightened back up in his seat, not once breaking eye contact with Hanzawa, and added, “You’ve never really been uptight, anyways.” 

Hanzawa raised an eyebrow. “I was president of the disciplinary committee, you know.” 

“Hirano-senpai was vice-president,” Tashiro replied scathingly. 

I had no idea what that name meant, but seeing as Hanzawa’s lips twitched in amusement, it was an excellent point. 

“Anyways, you weren’t uptight, you were up in everything!” Tashiro exclaimed. With his brows scrunched in concentration, he began to count a list of Hanzawa’s activities on his fingers. “President of the disciplinary committee, captain of the ping pong club, head of the dorm, all the random stuff you did for the cultural festival that you’re still doing…” He punctuated his list with a dramatic huff. “I was right—you are a masochist. I bet that hasn’t changed in college.” 

On second thought, maybe the ability to carry a conversation didn’t exactly mean one was a good conversationalist. I didn’t know how to look at the two of them without feeling embarrassment, but strangely enough, Hanzawa didn’t seem to mind the impropriety.

His lips curled into a threatening smile. “Tashiro-kun, are you sure you want to repeat that?” 

At the deep fondness hidden in his voice, I had a sudden epiphany. Blankly staring at Tashiro, I knew—this has to be what that guy meant. 

Unaffected by Hanzawa’s words, and unaware of the whirling thoughts in my head, Tashiro simply muttered, “This is exactly what I mean.” 

“How is the ping pong club, anyways?” Hanzawa asked, confirming my suspicions as he pivoted topics.

Tashiro flashed him a peace sign. “Doing great! The guys in our year keep telling stories about you—that’s how they terrify the first years!” 

“And I’m sure you’ve let them know that these are terribly unfair rumors?” Hanzawa said, leaning towards him. He fluttered his eyelashes, the action dancing on the edge of mockery and sincerity. “Disparaging a poor alumnus who can’t even defend himself, really…” 

Before he could get too far in his speech, they both seemed to realize there was a third person at the table and jerked back into regular sitting positions. Hanzawa ineffectually cleared his throat, and said, “Ah, Seigi—you used to be in a karate club, right? Don’t you still keep in touch with the members?” 

“…Well, not any of the newer ones, really,” I said, doing my best to convey that I hadn’t seen anything incriminating. “But I help out in events every once in a while, and I’m on an email chain with a bunch of people I knew at the time. It would be hard to pick it back up all of sudden, but I’ve been considering it.”

Hanzawa’s eyes flickered over to my fading bruise. He opened his mouth as if to ask me a question, and then seemed to think better of it.

“I did karate for a year, actually!” Tashiro piped up. 

Genuine disbelief and interest bled into Hanzawa’s voice. “Really?” 

“Closer to half a year, probably,” Tashiro amended sheepishly. “But yeah, I cycled through a lot of different sports back then, so I know the basics. Maybe I would’ve picked it back up in high school, but then I got conned—” 

“You bore the consequence of terms you accepted, you mean,” Hanzawa cut in. 

“Conned,” Tashiro repeated with extra emphasis, “into joining the ping pong club. But karate requires a lot of discipline, so I probably wouldn’t have ever stuck with it for long.” He sighed. “Now that I’m the president of the ping pong club, I can’t even skip practices!” 

“Well, obviously,” Hanzawa drawled. With a lightly accusing finger pointed at Tashiro’s hair, he added, “Unfortunately, I only hear good things about you from your clubmates. They don’t even think your hair makes you look like a ruffian!” 

“I haven’t dyed my hair in two years because of that stupid rule!” Tashiro replied. “Seriously, what was that president thinking…” 

“Probably that you’d grow your hair out and then cut off all the dyed parts,” Hanzawa replied dryly.

“No way,” Tashiro said. “Besides, this is kind of my brand now, anyways.”

“Delinquency?”

Tashiro glared at him. “If only he knew your hair was dyed,” he griped, “then I bet he’d—” He paused in the middle of his complaint and peered at Hanzawa’s unchanging expression. “He knew?”

“Well, my hair doesn’t stand out like yours does.” 

“So what?” Tashiro asked. “Just because you look normal doesn’t mean you are.” 

Hanzawa ruffled his hair in retaliation. “Show some respect for your senpai,” he huffed. Ignoring Tashiro’s squawks of protest, he added, “Besides, we didn’t force you to dye your hair back to brown, right?” With his hand still near Tashiro’s hair, he curled a stray stand around his finger. “Has your hair been growing much longer recently?��

“Yeah,” Tashiro said, smoothing his hair back into submission. “I think I damaged my hair pretty badly when bleaching it, so it grew kind of slowly, but recently that hasn’t been the case. I don’t know why, but it’s useful for now, isn’t it? I might not even need a wig.” 

“…A wig?” I ventured. 

Pink dusted Hanzawa’s cheeks. “I—I forgot… that you wouldn’t know,” he finished smoothly, though I had a hunch what he meant to say was I forgot you were there. I’d feel offended if it wasn’t for the fact that this meant that Hanzawa had drastically lowered his guard around me.

“It’s alright,” I said. “Is the wig for your cultural festival?” 

“You know about that?” Tashiro asked. 

“I heard a little about your… cross-dressing competition?” 

“It’s officially termed a beauty contest,” Hanzawa said, “but unofficially… no one calls it that.” 

“That’s cool,” I said lamely, but maybe Tashiro had picked up on the sincerity in my voice because he blinked at me for a few moments before beginning to motormouth. 

“Hanzawa-senpai’s helping me out!” he exclaimed. For the first time since we’d met, he ducked his head out of shyness. “It’s—for this year, I’m participating… some guys wanted me to do it in my first year, but I refused to, and well, I’m way taller than I was back then so it’s kind of weird, but still—I think it could be kind of fun? And it turns out that a lot of making things look good is in costuming and makeup, which I don’t know anything about, but of course Hanzawa does because he creepily knows everything, right?” He paused, and added, “For that bruise on your face, he could probably help you out there, if you wanted?”

“Oh—he already did, actually,” I said. “I learned how to cover it up when it was way too obvious to go to work, but I didn’t want to bother, otherwise.”

“Of course, he’s amazing,” Tashiro said, like it was a natural law of the universe, and Hanzawa stared, spellbound. “I don’t know how anyone’s going to pull off anything good next year because he’s got things so well-handled. It should really be impossible for a human to actually do that much”—he turned to Hanzawa and glared without much heat—“so maybe actually rest some time, would you?”

Slipping back into his regular grace, Hanzawa gestured at the café. “Isn’t this resting?” 

“It’s—I don’t mind that you’re helping,” Tashiro said, a frustrated edge to his voice. “I’m happy about it; I just need you to be, too.”

Hanzawa’s gaze drifted to an aimless point in the air. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, voice a little strangled. “I’m… going to stop by the restroom before we head out.”

With that said, he glided towards a distant corner of the café. Tashiro’s eyes tracked his back as he moved, and once Hanzawa left his line of sight, he studied me with careful eyes. 

There wasn’t any pressure behind it, but I couldn’t look away. 

Tapping his empty drink against the table, Tashiro said, “Like he said, we’ll probably head out soon.” His voice had dropped in both pitch and volume. “You seem like a good guy, Seigi—it was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Since that’s the case… he jokes about it, but if you run into Hanzawa-senpai again, could you make sure he’s not actually running himself into the ground?” 

Caught by the sincerity and intensity of his request, I agreed without a second thought. “Sure.” Then I realized it wasn’t the kind of promise I could meaningfully keep, but I didn’t know how to clarify my inadequacy.

“I seriously mean it,” Tashiro whispered, “a guy like that has to be a masochist for how much work he takes on. I mean, he’s helping me even though he graduated already…” 

It wasn’t the kind of thing I could say to his face, but I had a feeling that Hanzawa didn’t consider helping Tashiro as work. Hanzawa was only a year younger than me—maybe not even that, since I didn’t actually know his birthday—and so Tashiro was two years younger than me at best, but I couldn’t help but feel a rush of odd assuredness at the fact. Looking at him, I could understand, a little, what Richard had meant by saying that non-interference was sometimes the respectable choice.

When Hanzawa returned, he raised an eyebrow at the slightly somber mood of the table—Tashiro staring at his empty drink, and I, lost in my thoughts. “I’m going to assume you started gossiping behind my back,” he said. 

Rather than lie, Tashiro dismissively waved off his statement and said, “I told him to look out for you, since you’re up to something or the other. The moment you’re out of my sight, you’re doing all of these interesting things I don’t even know about…”

Stunned by his frankness, Hanzawa’s reply was stilted. “It’s… only expected, I suppose. That I can’t be around as much anymore.” 

“It’s not a bad thing,” Tashiro clarified. “It’s just a thing. Drag me around sometime when you go on your strange adventures, would you?”

“…I’ll consider it, okay?” Hanzawa said, gentler than I’d ever heard him, and I knew, surer than anything, that those weren’t empty words.

With Tashiro appeased, Hanzawa and I locked eyes.

There were a lot of things that I wanted to say. That more than ever, I felt that lapis lazuli was a perfect stone for him. That he was absolutely capable of grandness and importance. That Hanzawa carried different aspects of himself like he was a living example of metamorphism. But seeing him like this was the exact reason I couldn’t say anything to him. Today, we hadn’t spoken a single word about his visits to Jewelry Étranger, but I’d never felt the pressure to. Each time I’d met with Hanzawa, he’d been on his back foot—navigating his interactions with Richard and I at Jewelry Étranger, worrying over Kaede, or helping me cover my bruise.

But here, without any jewel in his possession, there was someone that recognized Hanzawa as he was. Maybe, then, he didn’t need anything at all.

Tashiro had asked me to look out for Hanzawa, but really, it was the other way around—I just never had to ask. Though there was a lot I didn’t know, I had the feeling that Hanzawa and I were similar types of people. If someone saw us as special, it would be impossible to let go.

I swallowed down all those presumptuous words, and said, “Have a nice day.”

“…You too, Seigi.”

— — —

Three weeks later, I was making a cursory sweep of the Jewelry Étranger floor, watching the clock tick over to closing time, when the door swung open with a blast of frost. 

In swept Hanzawa Masato. He was wearing the same shade of pale blue he’d worn during his first visit, but he’d opted for a warm turtleneck instead of a light sweater. He’d layered it with a soft brown coat, but his face was still tinged pink from the cold.

The door clicked shut behind him. I felt as if the broom in my hands should have clattered to the floor, but it stayed in my grip.

Even though it was our duty to greet a client, it was Hanzawa that broke the silence first. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be interrupting something,” he said. Something about his demeanor was noticeably different—he didn’t look uncomfortable, but he wasn’t speaking with his usual practiced composure, either.

I glanced toward Richard—he kept a cool face, but there was a slight deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes that he hadn’t yet shaken off. 

“You’re not interrupting,” I said, leaning my broom against the nearest wall. “Feel free to take a seat.”

“Hanzawa-san…” Richard began, before he fully collected himself. “It’s nice to hear from you again. Would you like me to bring out what you’d looked at previously?”

“I’ll make tea—” I offered, but Hanzawa stopped me in my tracks.

“There’s no need,” he said. “It shouldn’t take too long.” He took a deep breath, drawing closer without taking a seat. “To answer your question, Richard-san—you mentioned you carried different kinds of agate, yes?” At Richard’s ensuing nod, he said, “Do you carry any earrings with blue lace agate, then?” 

Professionalism snapped Richard back into action. “We do have a few,” he said, rising from his seat. “I’ll be back out in a moment, then.”

Once Richard had disappeared into a back room, Hanzawa offered me an appeasing smile. “I’m sure all these repeated visits are bad for business, but I do actually plan on making a purchase.”

“Richard treats all of his clients sincerely, whether they purchase something or not,” I said in instinctive defense. Maybe my next words weren’t appropriate for an employee to a client, but I’d run into Hanzawa outside of work twice. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d be back. Even though we ran into each other again…” 

“I wasn’t planning on it, then,” Hanzawa admitted. “So I do appreciate that you didn’t pressure me.”

“What changed?” I asked. 

“I won’t ruin all my mystery,” Hanzawa replied, a little flippant, and I was reminded of the lightness with which he and Tashiro had conversed. “But the simplest explanation is that I figured out what I wanted.” At my blank stare, he laughed, and explained, “I liked the lapis lazuli. But something so ostentatious won’t ever be my style. I said I wanted a statement piece, right? This is one—but it’s a statement to me, not someone else.” He gestured towards his sweater. “And it’s this shade of blue. I do like blue.”

What I’d noticed earlier was the difference between composure and confidence—the latter of which was unmistakable in Hanzawa’s voice.

“If you’re happy with your choice, that’s great,” I said.

In lieu of a proper reply, Hanzawa said, “…If you ever feel like hanging out sometime, Seigi, you do have my number.”

I didn’t give a proper reply, either; Richard returned with his collection of blue lace agate.

There were only three pairs of earrings, so he offered to have a stone worked into jewelry if Hanzawa preferred. Despite his initial hurry, Hanzawa took the time to inspect each set of earring as carefully as he’d studied eyeshadows. Finally, he decided that Richard’s offer wasn’t necessary, and picked out a pair of teardrop-shaped earrings.

“Can I wear these out of the shop?” Hanzawa asked as Richard advised him on the best way to store jewelry. After brushing past his annoyance at the interruption, Richard gave the okay, and so Hanzawa carefully tried them on, closing the back with a soft click.

After making his goodbyes, he paused by the opened door. In the next moment, he whipped back around to face me, displaying a brilliant, evanescent smile. Against all odds, he’d found a way to glow beneath the gray winter sky.

Just outside the door, I caught a glimpse of a green hoodie, and heard a familiar voice. “Your ears!” 

Startled, Hanzawa turned and closed the door behind him, but I caught his response just before the door swung shut. “My earrings, Tashiro-kun. Really, it’s rude to point…” 

As if on cue, the clock ticked over to closing time. I wasn’t sure when I’d see Hanzawa Masato again, but I knew—whatever conversation he was about to have, it wasn’t one he’d run from.

[abelas]

you guys are gonna go feral for the characters im writing

[propertyofkylar]

kinktober day 22: pegging (m!sydney x gn!pc)

word count: 1421

tags/warnings: pegging, anal fingering, no gendered terms referring to reader but has a vagina and uses a strap-on, the importance of using lube

note: HIIII REMEMBER ME i write things i do...sometimes... im SORRYYYY that its december and i havent finished kinktober. i got overwhelmed. the good news is that time is a construct and kinktober is not merely 31 days in a month...oh no...it is a state of being and babey im here year round

“You’re sure you want this?”

The dildo in your hands was unlike any real cock you’d seen - of course, real dicks were not purple and sparkly. You wiggled it in your hands, watching it bounce. Would this fit into Sydney’s ass?

Sydney nodded, a resolute expression on his face. This was something you’d discussed together for a while now. You’d done some experimenting - just some light fingering - and now it was time for the real deal. 

You were going to peg your boyfriend. 

Since Sydney had his eyes opened to what he called “the world of sin,” he’d been a lot more interested in the intricacies of sex and kink. That led the two of you to where you were today. 

Sitting on Sydney’s bed, a harness on your body, a fat dildo in your hand, and a bottle of lube beside you. 

“Okay,” you said in response, and gently stroked Sydney’s cheek. “But don’t forget we can stop at any time.”

“I know,” he smiled and nuzzled his cheek into your palm. “I trust you, my love.”

With that, you crawled into Sydney’s lap and began to kiss him. You had already stripped entirely naked, while Sydney was still in his underwear. As your tongues swirled in each other’s mouths, you could feel him rapidly hardening beneath you. 

“Someone’s eager,” you breathed against his lips. He nodded. You threaded your fingers through Sydney’s dark hair the way you knew he liked and tugged, eliciting a moan from him. 

You pulled away briefly to rig the dildo into the harness - you’d practiced - before returning to kiss Sydney some more. As you did so, you ground your hips into him, frotting your fake cock against his real one. Sydney’s breathing got heavier, and yours did too. The harness had a bumper that rubbed your clit with each thrust. 

Warmth spread through your body, the two of you huffing as your hips moved in tandem. You almost got carried away with the dry humping when you suddenly remembered why you were actually here. You pulled away again, Sydney whining at the loss of contact. 

“Take them off,” you said softly, and Sydney instantly did as told, tugging down his boxer briefs. His heavy cock smacked against his belly, flushed and hard after your fit of grinding. The sight was enough to almost make you drool. You couldn’t believe the temple had tried to lock this thing away from you. 

You grabbed the bottle and squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your fingers, coating your digits thoroughly. “I’m going to go slow,” you said, tossing the bottle aside and lightly scratching Sydney’s chest with your free hand. “Tell me to stop at any time and I will.”

“I know,” he murmured, pulling your hand to his mouth. Sydney kissed each of your fingertips. “You don’t have to keep telling me. I want this. Trust me.” He sucked your pointer finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around. The submissive act made you whimper and your hips unconsciously bucked. 

With one lube-covered finger, you gently stroked his hole, before slowly pushing it in. It wasn’t much, of course, but it had Sydney groaning already. After a moment, you began to move that finger. 

“More,” Sydney whispered, and you were happy to indulge. Your middle finger slid in too, and you pumped the two fingers faster, scissoring inside of him the way you knew he liked. 

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, and that did something to you. The sound of Sydney cursing always felt electrifying. With your other hand, you pressed against Sydney’s shoulder, forcing him to lay down on the bed. His dark hair spread around him like the halo of a fallen angel, yet he gazed up at you so adoringly there was no way any of this could be sinful. 

You pumped your fingers for a few more minutes and then retracted when you felt he was stretched enough. He whined at the loss, but eager anticipation flashed in his eyes for what was yet to come. You grabbed the lube again and squirted it on the dildo, probably more than necessary, but you wanted to be safe. Sydney watched intently as your hand jerked off the dildo, ensuring every centimeter was thoroughly coated. 

The two of you locked eyes as you leaned forward, pressing the tip of your dildo against Sydney’s hole. “I love you,” he said softly, which made you shiver with pleasure. And with that, you eased into him.

You went slowly, knowing full well for yourself that a cock was much different than having fingers inside of you. As you stretched Sydney out far more than he had ever been before, you watched eagerly as his eyes rolled back and his cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Fuck,” Sydney whimpered. His reaction was possibly the hottest thing you had ever seen. You rocked gently against his hips, excitedly watching his eyes glaze over from sheer pleasure. Sydney’s fists clutched desperately at the bedsheets beneath him, the fabric wrinkling under his grip. “It…it feels so good…”

“Does it?” You smirked, suddenly overcome with the urge to tease your adorable and sexy boyfriend. “How about when I do this?” You thrust into him again, slightly harder this time, and were filled with joy when he gasped suddenly.

A moan escaped your own mouth when the grinder in the harness pressed against your clit. Your thrusts were languid, trying to ease into a rhythm without overwhelming Sydney.

But that didn’t seem to be working for him, because he whined your name. You looked up into his eyes - pupils fully blown out - and shivered at the sight.

“Fuck me,” Sydney begged. “Hard. Please.”

Who were you to deny such a polite ask? You channeled memories of being penetrated yourself and almost entirely pulled out before slamming back in fully. Sydney let out a pleasure-tinged moan.

“Again!” He demanded, and you thrust hard into him repeatedly. Over and over, watching tears gather in the corner of Sydney’s eyes, pressure building deep in the pit of your belly. You stabilized yourself on the bed with one hand and moved the other down to grip his cock, sloppily trying to jerk him off in tandem with your thrusts. Your rhythm certainly wasn’t perfect, but Sydney’s sobs told you that you were doing a well enough job.

“Fuck,” you moaned, looking at him fucked out and hot below you. “You look so fucking good like this. Taking my cock so well.”

Sydney gasped. “Y-your hand – it feels so fucking –” his words were cut off by moans and he didn’t finish the thought.

The sight of him was too much. “I’m gonna cum,” you grit out, your tempo lost entirely as your hips went wild, hand barely keeping a grip on Sydney’s precum-soaked cock. “Oh, fuck, Sydney,” was all you could manage as your climax hit you. You squeezed your eyes shut, stars dancing in your vision. You could only imagine how good it would feel to cum inside him with a real cock, and that made you orgasm even harder.

Sydney was mumbling your name over and over like a prayer. As you came down from your high, you could feel his cock twitching in your hand. He was close, too. Leaning your head in, you pressed soft kisses to his neck, nibbling on his earlobe before whispering “let go for me, baby.”

And with a strangled cry, hot ropes of cum shot out from his cock, spreading over your hand and his stomach. The two of you breathed heavily, watching him twitch as finally, his cum ran out. Then, you looked at each other and giggled.

Ignoring the sticky mess on him that would surely spread to you, you flopped down on top of Sydney with an oomph, easing the dildo out of his ass. You couldn’t formulate coherent enough thoughts to speak, and you figured that he couldn’t, either. So you both sat in silence for a few.

“That was…” Sydney let out a shaky breath and chucked. “Yeah. It was.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a giggle. “For sure.”

He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and flipped you, so he was on top. Then, he nuzzled his head into your neck. The feeling of his hair on your skin made you giggle more.

“Let me lay here for a few minutes…” he murmured. He was so cute, it made your heart melt. “Then…I wanna see how well you can take my cock and the dildo together.”

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Sea Bat (again)

Debut: Donkey Kong Jungle Beat

It has been quite a long time since our old post on Sea Bat, so long that it was known as Sea Bakky back then! How long was it? Uh it was SIX YEARS? NEARLY SEVEN YEARS AGO??? My word. Well I think we've earned the right to mention this funny slug for the second time in over six years. We can indulge.

I want to talk about Sea Bat because it is so awesome! It's so cool! This is genuinely one of the coolest things ever. We just had a whole year of Shadow the Hedgehog, but sorry! He's only the SECOND coolest character. Number one is Sea Bat, babey! This thing hells yeah! (that's my new way of saying something is really cool. No one else says it but you could start if you want)

It's really a shame that DK Jungle Beat is so slept on, not only because it is genuinely a very fun game, but because Sea Bat is such an incredible design. As the name implies, it is a variant of the typical bat enemy, but as great as bats are, you cannot expect me to give a hoot about a regular ol' bat when one of them is actually a SLUG!

Not just any slug, but a clione, a sea angel, whatever you like to call them! I like to call them Fairy Slugs, but nobody else does. They are really some of the most magical creatures in the world, fluttering about in the void of the sea... and to think that such a magical creature is a SLUG! What a wonderful planet this is!

Jungle Beat dared to ask the question: what if a clione was goth? It would go hard, is what would happen! And it did, and it does. Sea Bat is not JUST a clione with bat wings, not JUST a clione with a bit of a spooky face. It's a FLATWOODS MONSTER clione! That head-and-face-shape combo is unmistakable! Representation WIN: this marine mollusc is from West Virginia!

Just... this thing is so cool. I know I've said that before but it's so cool. And it's criminal that barely anyone knows about it! This design deserves more than to be beaten up by Donkey Kong in an out-of-character spree of violence against innocent wildlife. It should... be on a skateboard, maybe? Nothing preventing anyone from painting it onto a skateboard! Hell Yeah!

And to think, they made this sea angel monster so cool and spooky, and didn't even need to include the real thing's Nightmare Face Tentacle Eruption form. Wowee! Swimming snails can rest easy tonight!

[quotidian-oblivion]

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🍄 Are there any fandoms you've never written for but want to try?

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

New Year's Writer Ask Game

💥 Ahhhhh there is. It's the tim gets deaged into a toddler fic but low energy has me stuck on chapter threeeeeeeeeeeee. Here's a snippet tho:

🍄 Danny Phantom! I have an idea with a dpxdc crossover involving my two favorite blorbos! So yee we shall see a Danny Phantom fic sometime!

🐌 Ummmmm. I don't really keep goals? I usually just... do stuff 😅 So I'm just gonna share A Goal. I'm planning on participating in whumptober this year! Provided i'll have the time and energy then, hopefully. And I'm not just talking four or five prompts. It's all or nothing babey. I'm hoping to fill out all 31 whump prompts. October is gonna be A Month for sure lmao. Nog even said that the year I participate in whumptober, is the year she knows to dread the arrival of October XD So yeah, I'm excited about that lol

Thanks for the ask, birb. I liked answering the questions you sent me <3

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Sixteen (18)

Day: Friday, April 12th / 13th* Time: 9:55 PM EST

Jeremy takes the loss well in his post-game interview and expresses no regrets for how things had turned out. He sidesteps every opportunity to call the Ravens out on their ugly playing style but perks up when attention is drawn to how close they'd been to a win. "We almost had it, right?" Jeremy says. "I don't think anyone was expecting us to get that close. It feels really different out there without Kevin and Jean on the line." "Worst time of year for someone to be injured," the reporter agrees. Tetsuji had announced earlier in the week that Jean was off the court with a bad sprain. "Rumor has it Jean won't make it back in time for finals." "Yeah, I spoke to Jean earlier this week. He's definitely done for the year, but he'll be back in the fall. He just won't be back in black." Jeremy flashes his toothy grin and doesn't wait to be asked to explain. "Yesterday he faxed us over the last of the paperwork we needed to make this thing official, so I'm allowed to tell you: he's transferring to USC for his senior year." "Let me make sure I heard you correctly," the reporter says. "Jean Moreau is leaving Edgar Allan for USC?" "We ordered his gear this morning," Jeremy says. "We'll have to get him some sun this summer, though! He's a little pale to pull off red and gold right now." He laughs like this news isn't going to cause an uproar with Edgar Allan's rabid fans. "Unfortunately his number was taken already, but Jean said we can reassign him to whatever's open. I'll let him tell you what his new one is going to be." "Can you tell us why he's transferring?" "I can't get into all the details because it's not my place to tell his personal business, but I can say we're excited to have him. I think we have a lot to learn from each other. Next year is going to be amazing. I think you're going to see a lot of changes across the board. We've all got to take another look at what we bring to the court."

Art used with permission by llstarcasterll. Thank you @llstarcasterll!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[lowkeyrobin]

you asked for tommy request here you go pookie!! 🦕

okay so the whole tommy hates american things, he meets reader online and they dont say where theyre from but boom babey theyre american

but but double whammy they have a very strong southern accent and tommy doesnt understand a word they say

bro straight up just like sits there, chin in hand, admiring reader while they go off but he cant understand a damn thing

top comedy right there imo

okay 🦕 I think you might be a southerner... TRUMP 2024 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!! 💥💥💥💥 /j

TOMMYINNIT ; southern accent

summary ; you use a voice changer and change your voice with ease, but reveal your accent when you meet him in real life

warnings ; language, American & British stereotypes ig

genre ; fluff

word count ; 856

masterlist

Tommy had this whole bit about hating Americans, which you played into, successfully by never revealing where you were actually from. In honesty, you had a pretty obvious southern accent, but were usually able to hide it or use a voice changer, since you wanted to save the reveal for a meetup in real life.

Somehow, you were able to hide this for nearly five years, tricking Tommy. Although you'd let some friends in on it, and the very early wave of fans as well, most of which probably don't even watch you anymore. But, now you were finally meeting him in the UK.

You obviously would've come much sooner, but life had caught up with you and you went on a half-year hiatus and got busy with school duties around 2021-2022. But, finally, in early 2024, you were finally able to work out a solid two weeks to go to the United Kingdom and meet the blonde after all these years.

No one told you how scary airplanes were, though. Yikes on bikes.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Meeting him was a dream come true, out near the water where you met at the pier, your luggage still with you because it was a solid twenty minute walk to your hotel. The salty sea air brushing against your face, his face, his whole presence in general, the vlog camera with him.

You instantly wrap him in a hug when you see him, and he does the same, lifting you off the ground a bit. You yelp as you feel it and he carefully sets you down, a wide smile on his face. You decide to hide the accent for now, covering it up just for now.

He invites you down to a little library not too far away, wanting you to be able to drop your stuff off safely and go eat, considering you both needed food. You agree and begin making the walk towards your hotel using Google Maps, taking in the scenery and new culture you'd been surrounded with.

In no time, you're at the library, sitting in the back with wraps in your hands, talking and relaxing in the empty music corner away from other patrons.

"No, and the lady in front of me starts making a fuss, and the other girl said "Don't make me turn into Danielle Bregoli!", Ma'am, what??"

"What?" He laughs, almost spitting out some of his food as he covers his mouth.

"Like I'll go get a fucking cowboy hat, put it on, and it'll probably scare you away!" You say, purposefully letting your accent slip out through your lips, giggling in the process.

The blonde blinks rapidly, trying to figure out what you said. "Sorry, what?"

You quickly clasp a hand over your mouth and smile, your words muffled as you spoke. "I'm from America, Tommy. I have a natural southern accent" You laugh, "I've been just covering it up and using a voice changer all these years"

"Just when I thought you reached the lowest of lows!" He smiles, playing into the joke, "I have no idea what you're saying"

"You can't understand my redneck ways? You fuckin' democrats... Trump 2024!!"

Tommy takes a moment, still unable to understand your accent, just listening to you talk. He has his chin in his free hand, watching you use your hands to speak while you smile and giggle, playing into the Americans versus British joke.

He genuinely can't understand a word you're saying, but he finds it adorable in a way. This is the way you really spoke, and you were comfortable enough to do it with him, and he honestly found it funny as well. He sets his wrap down on top of the paper bag it came in, running a hand through his hair as he stares at you with loving eyes.

You drifted the conversation from biscuit-eating-Brits and the American economy and lack of human rights back to stories about the airport and airplane trip to him, having a dozen stories to tell. It was a nightmare, really.

"No, I never knew how fucking expensive airport food is! I should've eaten before going, I thought it would've been more convenient to eat there, but no, apparently not. And some guy at the salad bar at the airport kept staring at me all weird for no reason. Like, you're jealous, I know, but doesn't excuse staring, my guy"

Tommy smiles and giggles, barely able to understand you. He uses his internal dictionary to unravel some words, but not all that much. He finds it ironic how you can always decode his British slang but he can't understand a word you're saying in the moment, but he feels a sort of serenity in it.

A wave of dopamine crashes against the shore of his brain, causing him to giggle as you make a little explosion sound and use your hands to imitate the boom. You see him smiling and giggling, assuming he can completely understand you.

Rule one of TommyInnit, teach him southern accent before meeting him, he has zero idea what you're saying.

[neverlearnedtoread]

Uprooted

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐; my favourite kind of fantasy - classic fairytale with a side of 'dont worry about the details' and 'you gotta believe in the heart of the cards!'

Oh?? 👌😉😏

a really sharp, quick-witted, and willful female protagonist going 'fuck it!' every few chapters or so and doing something crazy (crazy fun) to drive the plot forward, off a new exciting cliff

a soft magic system that really shows off in the best light what makes soft magic systems so valid. its all about the metaphors!! you have to measure the chocolate chips with your heart!!!

nature is so magical and beautiful and deadly. specifically if you treat trees bad they will form a sentient vengeful forest to raze your civilization to the ground and salt the earth with your bodies

kasia. i love an atomic blonde unkillable bad bitch with the strongest queerplatonic vibes with her best friend from birth

a CLASSIC grumpy 'beastly' male love interest. he seals himself away in a lonely tower, makes girls hang out with him for 10 years at a time, and unironically calls himself 'the Dragon'. he even has the audacity to be offended that everyone thinks he's creepy!!!!!!

No.. ❌🤢🤮

if you like having explanations for how magic works and any semblance of a hard magic system in your fantasy, put this book back. 'round here we operate on Vibes Only, babey!!

similarly, if your love language is words of affirmation and/or you think that fanfic-style romance plotlines should stay in fanfic, this romance is Not For You. this is not a judgment, only a warning

Summary: Agnieszka loves her home in her little village in the valley - you know, except for the evil forest simply known as the Wood that's been around as long as there have been people in the valley, with terrible creatures and sentient walking trees. And the century-old wizard known only as 'the Dragon' living in the tower overlooking their land, who takes a young woman every ten years to serve him. But what Agnieszka dreads the most is that her best friend, Kasia, will be chosen next, and that Agnieszka is helpless to save her. Until the day of the choosing, when the Dragon picks Agnieszka instead.

Concept: 💭💭💭💭 I've never gotten along that well with a book blurb, but this one does its damn job - gives me enough plot premise to get me interested without giving it all away, and doesn't make me feel like I've been lied to once I start the book! some stories really don't do what they say on the tin, or take ages to get there at all, but Uprooted starts off exactly at the spot the blurb said it would - with a girl, in a valley, scared of a terrible wizard, about to be whisked away to a tower.

Execution: 💥💥💥💥💥 This story is EXACTLY what it says it wants to be, down to the cadence of the prose - a Polish folklore-inspired fairytale. The rhythm of Novik's narration even fits right - one day I'll get the audiobook for this and get to hear it the way I read it in my head, like a grandmother's bedtime story with twists and eddies and crescendos at the all the right bits. I was in love with the aesthetic of every character, they fit perfectly into the backdrop of what this story was.

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤❤❤ This book aligns to my tastes much the same way An Enchantment of Ravens does, and shares of lot of the same elements without ever feeling derivative - smart girl meets magic boy, causes all kinds of irreversible political upheaval, and lives happily ever after being just as they are - a Girl with The Audacity. its a tale as old as time, and i'll hear it told just as often

Favourite Moment: you know its a good book when you really can't choose a favourite moment - one that comes to mind is agniezska choosing to save sarkan from being grafted onto the heart-tree in the Wood instead of setting fire to it. the 'fuck it!' energy agniezska brings to her moments of crisis is SO good, plus the motif of her always reaching out to sarkan to cast magic together - 'hey real quick, cast a spell with me while you're being pulled into an evil magic tree trying to twist your magic and life force against us. couldn't hurt, eh?' and then it WORKS

Favourite Character: now yall know i love a sarkan-esque character - pathetic wet cat men who are so offended by their own squishy feelings are a great time! and kasia is SO bad bitch extraordinaire, her and agnieszka's love for each other literally makes the plot go - every time, every time without hesitation she puts herself as the last thing standing between agnieszka and the Wood. but agniezska herself is really Something. the way she uses magic, her connection with nature and her refusal to be anything else than what she is - a grubby young woman who wields kindness as her weapon against the world, who holds onto her humanity with both hands and teeth - she shapes this fairytale to be the story she wants it to be, one of connection and empathy. and im still thinking about her introducing the lord of the whole valley to her mother 🤣 power move!!

[rosesnink]

Red Threads of Fate (That Bind Us Together), Arc I- Black Thorne, White Rose (Pt. 1)

Author's Notes

Je suis back!! After months of not touching this series due to rl craziness, I'm back with COP stuff babey!! This arc will be an interesting one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. That being said, read the warnings and bon appetit!

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

Some parts of the fic will look like they're highlighted. This is an editing errors due to my Word doc crashing many times, losing excerpts because my computer crashed. I know it's annoying, but please try to ignore it and enjoy the read

If you want to be tagged in my COP writing, let me know!

If you want to read more of my ILITW, TRR & D&D stuff, check out my masterlist!!

Summary: Nerea has been in Drakovia for a while, yet she feels very lonely. Meeting a certain Thorne will be eventful... to say the least

Word Count: 2.9k

Category: Romance, coming of age

Pairing: Vasili Thorne x F!OC, Sebastyan Thorne x F!OC (eventually) Marguerite Thorne x F!OC (Nerea Rose) (eventually), mentions of F!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Neera Rose)

Rating: T

TW: There is a suggestive scene at the end, as well as mentions of discriminations against Romani people, reader's discretion is advised

Book: Crimes of Passion

Two months, six days, a hundred and two minutes and seven hundred minutes.

That’s how long Nerea Rose had been in Drakovia, and not one friend she had made. Sure, there were groups and people she had things in common, but she didn’t seem to have her crowd.

If one didn’t count Juliana Georgescu, but everybody got along fine with the countess. What a life she must lead, Nerea thought. Nevertheless, it seemed that power and wealth had a price, for her mothers had found her a suitor. The Crown Princess, no less. Absorbed in her own thoughts, she bumped into someone, dumping coffee and books all over the place. A small curse in Drakovian was spit, and Nerea did her best to apologize in an accentuated Drakovian “My apologies, I did not see you at all! Please, let me help you—,” She froze in place when she caught sight of the brown skin, dark eyes and glasses “Y-Your Royal Highness! Do forgive me—,”

A thread of apologies began between them both “It’s alright,” he answered in perfect English “I was quite absorbed myself. I did not hurt you, did I?”

“I could ask you that myself! Good heavens, your jacket is ruined! Here, let me…” He put his hand on hers and smiled reassuringly.

“I wanted to get rid of it eventually. I should’ve seen you—,”

As she collected her last book, when she saw the face of the poor man she trampled, recognition and shame came upon her “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Prince Vasili, I should’ve known—,”

He chuckled “Do not fret, I should’ve seen where I was going as well. I suppose we were both distracted.”

She shook her head “No, I should’ve seen where I was going, and now my latte is all over your surely expensive coat!”

He helped her up “Nothing a good rub won’t fix. Please, allow me to walk you to class and buy you a new latte. My treat.” He smiled, and my, what a beautiful smile that was.

“I can’t ask you that—,”

“I’m offering. Besides, I’m afraid my espresso is all over your beautiful dress too. My lady mother would be mortified if I maimed such a beauty. You are…? A beauty like yourself must have a name.” He extended his hand.

“Nerea. Nerea Rose.”

His grip was firm, yet gentle and warm, welcoming even. His eyes swept her before they too widened in recognition “Ah, I’ve heard about you! The American genius who has been travelling throughout Europe’s best universities. Your thesis on the advantages and abuses of AI was formidable. Truly a work of art. My siblings got tired of my gushing about your nuances and the way you expressed it. Not even professionals ten years ahead of you could’ve explained it as well and as richly as you.”

She blushed deeply and bit her lip “I’m glad someone appreciated it. I’m afraid my father didn’t understand much ‘technological mumbo jumbo’ and my sister couldn’t even finish it because the language was too complex.”

He smiled “Shame. It’s a true work of art. Do tell me, what brings you to Drakovia?”

“Well, since I’ve dipped my toes in technology and martial arts, I was thinking of getting a masters on Classical Languages: Latin, Greek, Ancient Egyptian, the works.”

Vasili looked at her, delighted “I am a humanist myself. Not many scientific minds appreciate the arts and humanities. Science may give us answers and make us advance as humanity, but it is art that nurtures the soul.”

Nerea smiled fondly “That’s what my mother used to say.”

Vasili frowned “’Used’?”

Nerea fidgeted with her fingers “She disappeared. Police assumed since she was a Romani—despite her ID clearly stating she was Andalusian—she just escaped with a lover, which she would never do.”

Vasili made a face “To hear the injustice in America is one thing, but that is too far.”

“Not to mention blatantly racist. But it was long before I could even have a conscience, so there isn’t much to do save do her proud, wherever she is.”

“You already have.”

She looked at Vasili, touched by his words, but before she could say something, the professor called “Ah, Miss Rose! Do come in, we have been waiting for you.”

“Your Highness—,”

“Please, just Vasili.”

“Very well, ‘just’ Vasili. I’ll see you around.”

During the small recess, as she walked around the campus, enjoying the small sandwich she made and the unusual sunny weather in the cold Drakkos, she spotted a little boy with gorgeous green eyes towards her. She smiled at him “Hello, sweetie! Are you lost?”

She noticed he held a bonbon, and made a gesture to give it to her. She chuckled “That’s sweet, darling, but I can’t. It’s yours.”

The boy insisted, his eyes making that face that made her melt. She sighed, defeated “All right, all right. I’ll take it. May I give you a thank you huggie?”

Wordlessly, he hugged her and she smiled, and a minute later, he took off to his bewildered mother. She gave her a smile. Just because this wasn’t the first time that a child smiled at her or even went as far to go to her didn’t mean it was strange. A good strange, but strange nevertheless.

“Nerea!” Juliana called.

She turned around and strid to the countess, who seemed to hold court with a few of her classmates. Many of them observed her curiously “What was all of that about?”

Nerea shrugged “I don’t know. It’s not the first time, but it’s still… odd.”

While Vasili did not have many friends, the ones he did were genuine and quite interesting. It was nice, hanging out with people who were as smart or nearly smart as her, not feeling for once like she once set the room quiet with a scientific joke.

As she observed her new group, her eyes stopped on Juliana, and as she talked and interacted, something in her body woke. For a moment, she lost her breath and one voice in her head told her that something terrible would happen to her. Then, it was gone.

When she opened her eyes, Vasili had steadied her and looked at her concerned “Are you alright, Nerea?”

“I… It’s nothing. Silly stuff of mine.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing.” He insisted.

“I just… I got a gut feeling that said that something terrible would happen to Juli. Stupid, right?” She chuckled, brushing it off.

They all looked at one another, obviously creeped out. She excused herself, going to the bathroom. After taking a few deep breaths, she washed her face, and that’s when she observed that Juliana had followed her.

She turned around, and observed that the countess observed her closely “How often do you get these gut feelings, Nerea?”

“Not very often. Only when a tragedy is bound to strike.”

Instead of looking at her like a madwoman, she leaned close, intrigued “Such as?”

“Before my mother disappeared or my Uncle Jimmy died, I got the same gut feeling. I suppose I also know when someone’s trouble.”

She nodded “And you got a feeling that I may be in trouble?”

She shrugged, “I suppose. I know it sounds ominous, but it’s yet to fail me.”

She placed a hand on her shoulder “I will keep it in mind. Thank you, Nerea. You’re a good girl.” 

As they came back, they had begun a debate about what prompted the child’s behavior. “…That was amazing! Children are a great judge of character. Has it always happened?”

“Since I turned sixteen, yes. I suppose I’ve always had a wide maternal side and connected well with children. Many stared at me when I’m out, for some reason.”

Vasili added to her surprise “That is a scientific proof that you are beautiful. I’m afraid I’m not children’s favorite prince.” He shrugged, “Trystan and Bas are.”

One of their friends clapped the prince’s shoulder, remarking that he was the group’s favorite by default. Nerea shyly said “Just because children don’t tend to look at you doesn’t mean that you aren’t handsome. It’s… what, one fact among many? I’ve seen gorgeous people who were awful to children.”

Vasili looked at her with interest before smiling “You have a point. You’ll fit well amongst us, Nerea.”

Christmas finally came around the corner, and Nerea had packed everything when she decided to look outside the window… to find it all covered in snow, even some cars! She turned on the news as the weather guy kept talking about how it’d be snowing like this throughout most of the winter, making it impossible to get out of the country. Her phone ringed, and of course, her flight had cancelled due to said weather. Sighing, she sat down and put her head in her palms, letting out a grunt of frustration.

Just then, Vasili called her. He rarely called, preferring text over call. She picked up, intrigued “Hello?”

“Nerea! I suppose you’re on the plane back to New York?”

“Nope. My flight got cancelled due to the weather, and I have nothing but yoghurt and ramen on the fridge. Why do you ask?”

He cleared his throat “Well, I was on the way home when the snow trapped my car, and your house is just above it. Perhaps I could… crash in there? Until they clear out the road, that is.”

She flushed. For months now, she had developed a complicated crush with Vasili, and the idea made her flustered “O-Of course! I’ll open the door for you. It’s—,”

“Portal 26, second floor, door 3B. I remember, Nerea.”

She smiled “Good. See you then. Hope you like cheap ramen.”

She hung up, looking at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair and spraying the special ‘Amor Amor’ perfume by Cacharel and putting on some lip oil before going to the kitchen, pretending to be preparing dinner.

The door closed behind her, and a snow-covered Vasili stepped into her view, his glasses foggy and covered in specks of snow, as well as his coat and boots. She beamed for a minute before giving him her usual friendly smile “Please, take off your shoes and coat! The heater is right there,” she pointed “and the guest room is next by mine. It’s not a palace, but it’s comfy. Can you tell me if there’s warm bedsheets there?”

Vasili obeyed the host, leaving the damp shoes by the door and hanging the coat and craned his head to the small but cozy guest room. He called out “All clear! Thank you, Nerea. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You’re my friend. I’m happy to help. Please, sit.”

It was then when she took off her eyes from his face and noticed the large bag. She raised her eyebrows “What is that?”

“Ah, well, Marguerite had asked for Thai takeout, but I suppose that is no longer an option…”

She smiled “I love Thai. Here, let me plate it.”

“May I help?”

“Sure! Cutlery is in there.”

They both plated the Thai food and went to her desk, which was a gateway to the kitchen, and chatted animatedly about what they had been looking forward these holidays. Soon, they exchanged holiday-themed childhood stories “…Poor Nina. Swallowing snow sounds unhygienic.”

Nerea laughed “Curiosity killed the cat indeed. Despite my warnings, she didn’t listen, and we had to hospitalize her. Ever since, she listened to me more often. Well, as often as an eleven-year-old could.

They chuckled “Your sister sounds like quite the character. You must miss her.”

A pang of sadness washed over her “Very much. I’m bummed I can’t see her now. It’s… my first Christmas outside the US.”

Compassion could be read all over Vasili’s face “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Is there any way I may be able to make it amenable while I’m here?”

She shrugged “It’ll be weird, to not cook an entire feast for the family. We always spent time with my father, sister and the Ginovesis. I’d make my special dish of huevos rotos, followed by migas and my stellar homemade turrón. I do have the ingredients here, but not an audience.”

Vasili gave her an amused look “What am I, Nerea, chopped liver? I’d be happy to be your audience.”

She shook her head “I can’t ask you that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.”

She smiled widely “All right. But you’re helping, mister! Number one rule of the Rose Christmas; you want to eat; you have to earn it!”

He teasingly made a military salute “Aye aye, Captain!”

For two hours, they cooked, an intimate synchrony between them that neither could explain as the food was made, a certain unaddressed intimacy between stolen glances, the occasional hand brush, and how each looked at the other’s body. Especially the lips.

At last, the food was made, and they dug in, and Vasili seemed to hold back a moan of delight when he tried the huevos rotos. “Mm. The richness of the egg, the meat and the softness of the egg yolk is simply divine, and the spices really give it a kick. You truly are a talent at everything you do.”

She blushed “Thank you. I was nervous that it wouldn’t be to your tastes…”

He chuckled “I may be a royal, but I am capable of appreciating the simple things in life. And this is too delicious to ignore because the ‘commoners’ eat it as well.”

Nerea smirked “It has been a while since we’ve considered royalty some sort of demigods.”

“Thankfully so.”

They clinked their glasses, Riojan wine sparkling red “To family.”

“And those close to your heart.”

Smiling wide, they drank and kept talking and exchanging tales “You’re telling me that Patryk dared Kaspar to put on the prime minister’s underwear and streak across the building in it? No offence, but gross.”

“Not as gross as mudpies. That poor guy.”

“Hey! In my defense, he cheated on me!”

Vasili looked at her intensely “A crime indeed. Such a shame that beauties like yourself don’t get appreciated. If you were mine—,” His eyes shoot wide, and he cleared his throat “Apologies. It seems like the wine made me overstep.”

Nerea must’ve been affected by the wine, for she surprised herself when she blurted out “If I were yours, what would you do?”

He took her hands in his, an intense look on his face making her gasp “I’d worship you day and night. I’d give you the world. Every other woman would cease to exist.”

“Vasili, that is—,”

The strong wind slamming open the window interrupted the moment. Bolting up, the both rushed towards the window, where both forced it closed and panted, the effort being visible, as well as the tension of the moment.

“Whew! I need another glass after that.”

“I’ve had enough alcohol. I could use the turrón, though.”

She let out a breath “Coming right up.”

The morning after, Nerea had overslept due to the many glasses she ended up drinking. She remembers Vasili taking her to her bed, taking off her make-up and pulling the covers so she wouldn’t be cold.

She woke up and, remembering she had a guest, quickly brushed her hair with her fingers and checked her breath. Smelled like wine, of course. Taking a mentos from her drawer, she looked for something cute yet discreet. Ignoring her headache, she lifted her head and tried to have a pleasant smile on her face.

Coming out of her bedroom, the sight before her gave her heart flutters: Vasili had his shirt half-open, his hair was messy, and he was making breakfast. It smelled delicious. He seemed to notice her presence and smiled widely “Nerea! Please, do sit. I’ve made the liberty to make, ah… what do you call it? Pankays?”

Nerea chuckled “Pancakes, and it smells divine.”

He gave her a wry smile “I’ve decided to give it a Drakovian twist. It’s not as good as yours, but I believe it is how it’s done.”

He gave her the plate, and their hands brushed again. He cleared his throat “Look, about last night, I didn’t want to overstep, but… I like you, Nerea. Very much. You draw my eye like no other, and of course, you don’t have to return my feelings, but—,”

“I do return them,” she interrupted.

His gaze lifted, what it seemed like hope “Truly?”

Armoring herself with valor, she struts towards him and gave him a small peck. For a moment, he was surprised, and next thing she knew, he was kissing her passionately, a throaty moan escaping him. Next, her hands were on his hair and shirt, completely forgetting about breakfast. She chuckled “I probably reek of alcohol.”

“I rather like the taste of cherries and wine. A very sophisticated mix,”

He lifted her up with surprising strength, and she chuckled as he kissed her neck, gently dropping her to her bed. He looked at her like he was a hungry man and she was his last meal on earth. Taking off his shirt, he climbed towards her and whispered “Do you want this?”

She nodded frantically “Yes,” her voice was hoarse with desire.

He smiled devilishly “It is a good thing we haven’t eaten yet. What am I about to do is not fit for a full stomach.”

Their lips locked again, and as the sun came up, only them and their rampant tension seemed to exist for a few hours.

As in that day, Nerea didn’t feel so alone in Drakovia.

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

For the Drabble/doodle prompt:

Fem!Reddie But I’m a Cheerleader AU

ohhhh babey hell yeah

me and @haaawaiianshirt actually discussed this au like a million years ago but I genuinely can't remember who was who, so after like a full forty five minutes of staring at a wall, thinking about Them, I reengineered it to make eddie megan... except she still gets to be a little butch

ficlet below cut:

i haven't written these babies in so long so I sincerely apologize if im rusty but have some Eddie-specific, non-canon scene, but i'm a cheerleader vibes:

Eddie… didn’t quite see it working out like this.

Which to be perfectly fair, isn’t, like out of the picture. The past almost two months have been exclusively didn’t quite see it working out like this. 

Being accused of lesbianism, being sent to conversion therapy, and, goddamnit, especially not the accusation being right.

But when she’d been sitting outside the office, panic coursing through her nervous system, waiting, Eddie had genuinely thought that she was going to lie. She was fully prepared to pretend she was straight, to say that none of it had ever happened. That she’d never loved Richie Tozier and she was so, horribly, incredibly excited to graduate into a dull, mind-numbingly pink life of heterosexuality.

Richie was going to look at her with huge, betrayed eyes. Richie was going to get kicked out. She’d already carved out a place in her brain for the guilt.

Eddie was a good girl, Eddie was a catholic girl, Eddie was her mother’s perfect daughter, Eddie was a fucking cheerleader. Richie was the brave, snarky, proud-to-be-a-dyke one, not her.

But for some fucking reason, staring her mother down as tears and snot dripped down her face, demanding she reconsider, while Robert fucking Gray in neat little blue suit grinned at her and told her she could have a second chance, she couldn’t do it. Fuck that, she’d thought, considering a life of boyfriends and a raised ranch in the suburbs and two and a half kids, Fuck that.

Richie had said she was braver than she fucking thought that night, her hand slid under her skirt in the back of the Cocksucker, her voice all soft and smiley and genuine. She hadn’t really realized that she’d meant it comparatively. That Eddie was brave because Richie wasn’t.

Maybe that wasn’t fair. Eddie just… doesn’t know how to feel fair right now. 

She was supposed to leave with her and she hadn’t.

(The spot in her head she’d reserved for betraying-Richie guilt has been instead taken up with the image of Richie herself, pale and crying and more quiet than she’d ever seen her be, mouthing silent ‘I’m so sorry’s. With the words, ‘It’s been decided, then. Richie will do the simulation with Connor. Edith, you can go.’)

Adrien and Don had told her to take her time with the whole thing. Stan had rolled their eyes and told her that she’d get over it. She doesn’t think either of them are fucking right.

Not when she’s so fucking mad and confused, and every time she closes her eyes she pictures Conner fucking Bowers, sleazy, gay Conner Bowers, simulating sex that she knows Richie doesn’t want to have. 

She stares hard at the ceiling of her new bedroom. It’s smaller than her one at home, the walls painted a bright, angry red, and self-help books and dyke memoirs and magazines she knows you can’t buy in the grocery stores unsubtly sitting on the bedside table. 

It’s a weird, hands off sort of acceptance she’s not used to. And it’s better than her Mother’s cloying need to have control, but it almost makes her uncomfortable.

She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, in general and as a fucking lesbian and… god, maybe it’s selfish but she almost wishes Richie were here just so she could tell her the steps. 

Richie was the same age as her, sure, but she had more experience with this whole thing. She’d kissed girls, she knew what fucking… scissoring meant, she was good at it, she had the fucking training hours and everything that Eddie specifically lacked. 

(Though, she realizes, maybe that's the difference.

Richie knew. Richie came into this whole thing well aware she was a lesbian. From what she’d whispered, hidden in the dark corners of New Horizons, when they’d stopped making out just long enough to talk, it’d been one of the openly apparent things everyone around her knew and hated since she was thirteen. 

All her sex talk and bold sexuality shit that Eddie’d been so intimidated by at first, that she kind of longs for now, was just a defense mechanism that could be easily broken down and manipulated. 

Eddie… had honestly just never considered the idea before her mom sent her away.

Having sex with Conner would have grossed her out before, probably. She’d never even wanted to kiss Myran when they were dating, and now that she knew why, she wasn’t about to back down.

Somehow, Richie having more time to figure everything out made it even more complicated.

Christ, it’s not like any of this shit feels simple for Eddie, though.)

Without thinking about it she kicks herself off her bed and slams into the bathroom. 

‘Sweetheart, don’t worry about being a perfect lesbian,’ Adrian had soothed when she’d shown up, crying with suitcases, ‘Just worry about being yourself.’

It’d probably been good advice. If she’d known who the fuck she was.

She knew she was a cheerleader, that one had just been a fact.

She knew she was a lesbian, she’d figured that one out fast and then let it sink it incredibly slowly. 

She knew she was angry and she knew she was sad, and she knew that Richie might have had a point about her being brave. And that one had been after doing something impulsive and maybe stupid. 

She doesn’t really have time to recreate the first two, slowly burned life changes, but she can probably do the impulsive stupid one again. 

The least she could do was try, she thinks, digging in one of the drawers under the sink until she finds what she’s looking for. 

Her hair falls in clumps as she hacks at it with dull, bathroom cabinet scissors, uneven and probably ugly and she’s gonna have to get someone to fix it. Suddenly, though, she doesn’t think she gives a shit. 

She wonders if it’s a cliche, a dyke with short hair. She’s not necessarily sure she cares any more. Her head feels lighter than it ever has. 

She wonders why the fuck she hadn’t done this earlier, short hair would be so much easier for cheer than a fucking hair-sprayed stiff blow out. 

She wonders if Richie would like it. 

Richie. 

Fuck.

(Mother fucker… well, impulsive and stupid worked twice, right?)

She slams into Stan’s bedroom, the sudden plan shaking its way out of her skin too hard to take anything slow. They blink up from their book and look her over, cocking an eyebrow, “Nice hair.”

“Thank you,” She grins, feeling hot all over and shaky and kind of like she’s gonna pass out. Just, in a good way, somehow, “Wanna go crash the graduation tomorrow?”

[emmenai-kalliston]

Cal's T-log, month 1!!!

...that was three days ago, but whatever. I can't believe it's been MORE THAN A MONTH hello?? AND it's working :)) so, without further ado (very nice expression btw, good job, English) here's the changes I've been observing!! (warning for talk about body parts including parts that may cause dysphoria, sexual behaviour, and negative emotional states) :

General feelings, mood, and energy:

•wild. mood. swings (haha The Cure reference). They seem to have kinda stopped very recently? But truly I felt like my mood was changing SO dramatically for the tiniest reasons. That also meant seeing a cat could get me out of total despair, tho, very nice

•also unbearably horny sometimes oh my. I've always had a high libido but lately I feel like I'm almost in pain sometimes. This means wayy more taking care of myself like I've straight up went from like three times a month to every day or so oops

•I'm generally happier and more carefree and feel more hopeful for the future and yeah HRT is so nice y'all

Skin and hair:

•bad bad acne :( it's spread to parts of my face and body it didn't reach in years (especially my face) and zits are bigger and more painful :( considering changing the medication I was already taking for it bc it's working way less now

•my scalp also became oilier, sometimes I need to wash my hair every day (for reference, I have very thick. straight hair, so I can immediately feel when they're oily. Also I'm growing them out :D but that's not that related haha)

•NEW BODY HAIR!!! The peach fuzz on my face seems to be becoming denser, thicker and slightly darker (it was pale blond, almost invisible, and now it's less so), especially on the upper lip, and also my tummy hair is doing so :)) (starting from a brownish thin happy trail)

Sexual characteristics:

•ow boobs :( they feel more solid than before in a way, and can bind or put a sports bra for less time before it's painful now

•ayy bottom growth :) can't say much is changed but it does feel different, like more blood gets there? somehow? Good feeling, bothersome sometimes but I like it. Also I seem to get wet more easily which is the total opposite of what I was expecting but I'm NOT complaining haha

•my period came, but it was very very short, like a day and a half and that was it, but also particularly painful. Let's see if I get my next one ig

Voice:

•THAT'S RIGHT BABEY VOICE DROP kinda. My voice doesn't seem that different from before, but having a choir singer past I can definitely feel that I'm much more comfortable than before on the lower parts of my pre-existing register. I feel like I'm naturally shifting to it becoming my no-effort register which is in fact what we're looking for, isn't it? :D

Other notes:

•my blood pressure seems to be more stable in a way? I've always suffered from low pressure, y'know your blackouts when you stand up, spinning head, all that jazz, but one of the warnings about testosterone is possible high pressure and I've been experiencing those a lot less so I think I'm actually reaching a good human pressure finally??

Overall, I'm very, very happy with HRT so far :) as I already said on the previous installment (?), I didn't expect changes to start this soon, and even if right now most of it can be the bothersome parts, the little I'm seeing in the "good" direction makes me so so happy :) I'm just a normal human boy going thru puberty after all!! I'm literally just experiencing your average testosterone-based puberty, and that, while I don't necessarily like the feelings, gives me gender euphoria :D yayy growing up!!

[ratatatastic]

"And that season (2023-24 season; Florida Panthers) what sticks out to me, obviously 20 point season but December 23, 2023 against the Vegas Golden Knights... Merry Christmas, Kolesar! I'm gonna grab ya, I'm gonna feed ya a quick right, and you're done-zo! TKO! How ya doin'? This guy is like 6 foot 6 or 6 foot 7, maybe 6'8? I don't know, let's put him at 7 feet tall, you're 5'9, dude! You're fuckin'—you're a dawg, babey! Just walk us through that though, that's a big fella." "Yeah, he's big and he's tough for sure! So it's obviously not easy to go into something like that. That was, kind-of, a little bit, settling last year's score. He was the one who hit Tkachuk and, you know, ultimately took him out of the rest of the round... We kind-of chat a little bit at the start of that game, and he asked me, 'Well, it's the new year, like that happened last year—why didn't you do something last year?' and I told him I was in a cast, my thumb was broken all playoff-long...I couldn't fight. He's like, 'Oh? Alright, let's—I'll fight ya then.' You know, whatever happened, happened. You know, obviously, Chucky comes over right after, and—That was a big win for our team this year."

The Buzz Pod | 8.7.24 (x)(x)

oh my god theyre david and goliathing him...adding more height every second...

"Earlier [Kolesar] said, you know, 'You kind-of missed your chance last season. You should've fought me then.' I told him I was in a cast—not really too much I can do about it. He was, obviously, understanding and gave me my shot there. I told Locky to take it because I'm not jumpin' in there!"

florida panthers @ vegas golden knights postgame interview | 12.24.23 (x)

the lore grows...it deepens...

[bonnvivre]

a funny thing- ch 24/25 word dump

WUAHAHAHA 4AM BABEY YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS

i’ve been cookin low and slow with this one and i mean real slow like. too slow . as in 2 weeks later whoops

this one’s a real doozy so grab a snack

FIRST PAGE ON THE GOSUKU TAG WHEN YOU SORT BY KUDOS LETS GOOOOOOO major rweiser W

———————————————

ch 24

thinking abt yuuji flying down the sidewalk and megumi becoming the equivalent of a flag whipping behind him pls yuuji not everyone can keep up 😭

fred says fuck

mmmmmm crunchy cookies i love me some egg shell

yeah with cooking, you can play around with the measurements and adjust along the way, but baking is whole different beast :[ i made creme brulee for our new year dinner, my first time baking actually, and i was terrified the entire process cus one wrong step and its over (they turned out good in the end, though i wanted to leave it in the fridge longer) 

sukuna and uraume on the same wavelength love that

daww megumi just be a kid its okay 

gojo’s nicknames for toji PLS father-fushi and fraidy-guro

hehehe he technically called sukuna pretty ,, i agree

LMAOOOOO AINT NO WAYY OFC HE SABOTAGED HIM 

i feel like toji would actually do well in getting sales (if he had the proper cookies) considering he’s “a pro at freeloading off women” which leads me to believe he’s got hella charisma . 

“Fushiguro stops just before the table, one hand balled into a fist so tight, the muscles of his arm are easy to see, flexing dangerously beneath his skin.” uwwheheheerhfbud sorry

OH SHT THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING YOOOOOOOO AND SUKUNA JUMPING IN FOR GOJO ???? in front of the kids in a school fundraiser is crazy lmao

pinky

gojo taking bets on who’s gonna win reminded me of mei mei betting on the gojo-sukuna fight

i had a crazy amount of secondhand embarrassment going thru that hhhhhh yknow that feeling when you just wanna curl up and cover ur eyes and you’re fighting to even look back ? yeaaaaa

“Hurting people is bad. And you’re not bad!” ohh yuuji ughhh he has no idea of what sukuna was before, that he’s done more than hurt people .. children really only see the side of their parents that they’ve allowed to show them. it’s why kids usually think the highest of them, so yuuji saying that sukuna’s not bad gets me cus he’s known and seen only the best of him. but it makes me feel gooey inside cus, while everyone else sees the former king of curses, yuuji sees his dad and when he does eventually find out, he’ll still always be his dad before anything else (does this make sense i hope it makes sense im trying to make my thoughts coherent)

oh hey they’re talking abt it !

I GASPED OH MY GOD PLEAS EOLASOE APLEAS EPLAS EPALEAPSLEAPSH NOOOOOOOOO FFGGHGBBVV HITTING MY BED GRFGHJVNGRRAAGGHHFEG

im being tortured i thinj you’re trying to kill me here this is the worst case of edging ive ever had in my life (no not like that) 

post-chapter notes:

IM ALREAYD RIOTING YASTOP BLUE BALLING ME

id read real housewives of jujutsu sorcery

————————————

ch 25

GRADE 1 ?? AS IN ONE ?? AS IN  O N E  ?? AS IN, YUUJI IS NO LONGER A PRESCHOOLER

when you said small time-skip, i thought you meant a few months later . i was wrong

aight time to update the time board: yuuji’s in first grade so he’s 6 yrs old, we’re in 2013 now (i think), gojo is 24 yrs old  23 yrs old (chap takes place during summer, bday not passed yet)

it’s 2013, he can get a 3ds now :D im gonna get him on smash bros . OR KID ICARUS UPRISING IT SHOULD BE OUT ALREADY

they should totally name the potential pet after me (jk)

OKAYYYY THATS A START HE KISSED HIM ON THE HEAD !! WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE :O now go lower. preferably on the li

oh yeah yeah definitely not together whatever helps you sleep at night man

im gonna need the bad bitches birthday bash one-shot someday with the way shoko’s bringing it up

the fact gojo’s heard the threat so many times before that he can finish it and brush it off

CANDY CRUSH  !!?!??

AWWWWWW THATS ADORABLE ;____; sukuna wanting to do something to surprise gojo’s first day as a teacher and yuuji suggesting to make a cake cus he knows his daddy loves sweets AND they spent the whole day prepping awawawawaw so cutee

they called on uraume for help too LOL poor them 

yuuji being a snitch HA i can’t help but think of my siblings

you can’t be serious gojo, not after that? people also don’t usually sleep and cuddle the homies cmon man

mother is mothering and mother is leading the herd (no but i love how he adapted to the role very easily, likely to prior experience)

whuh the fundraiser was last year ? am i overthinking the timeframe … ok im back after going thru the calendar that makes sense 👍 carry on wait hold on first semester of first grade ended so they’re on break ... summer break ?? unless this is going off of a different schooling system (oh yeah duh japan lol)

ohhh please let them meet mama-guro i can imagine the absolute shock on their faces trying to comprehend how someone like toji managed to marry someone like her 😭 bonus points if toji is much more softer around her too and the sheer whiplash of seeing him having ANY sort of loving side is enough to send gosuku into a spiral

“It’s exactly the type of thing Sukuna would never be caught dead wearing, which means Satoru must do all in his near-infinite power to make him wear it.” real

THESE THREE ARE RIDICULOUS LMAOOOOOO sorry kids your fathers are busy trying to one-up each other

“But, then again, these are just go-karts; how much damage could he really do?” famous last words before disaster

oh no

hey sukuna’s living life at least he’s having fun and that’s all that matters 🥰

not the pyramid projectiles

CONICAL AMMO !?$&7)-)26 MARIO KART IRL GONE WRONG oh my god its too late for this i need to sleep

OH MY GOD ?????? 

WHADDYA MEAN THEY’RE GONE ??????

post chap notes:

what just happened

no really what jusr happened

the amount of times i’ve said oh my god throughout the entire go-kart scene i was clutching my pearls

he recreates his reign in the silliest ways, all while wearing nice little red bow :3

nah i get it the entire first arc was dedicated to how messed up he was abt suguru so i understand the doubts but they’ve also near kissed multiple times .. unless they were super down with kissing the homies 

“I sure hope nothing bad has happened to them...” STOP

[just-some-guy-joust]

Tell us about Eden *holds up microphone to you*

Thank you all for indulging me I am going to yell about her so fucking hard <3 Same as my Amedeo rant, this one's LONG babey YIPPEE! This ended up being 34 fucking paragraphs!!!!

All art is by me, all links on character names lead to their toyhouse profiles

Content warnings: Unreality, toxic relationships, bad mental health

This is Eden! She/her, 20-22 years old (22 at time of Doomed By The Narrative), 5'1, a college student who's also in the college's gaming club! She's the best friend/sister of Aiden, another member of the club who's like super rich and inherited a fuckoff big manor from their parents (which I am mentioning exclusively for the context to explain the fact that the story is called In A Manor Of Speaking)

Eden is very very sweet and kind and energetic and fun. She's good vibes all around and she's friends with Everyone so hard. If you're familiar with my other OC I've shoved into one of my tournaments though, Amedeo, you... might know where this is going a little bit.

For a basic plot summary up until Eden has anything to do with anything, Aiden comes home one day with a demon, Viorel, who is VERY lost and confused and has no memory of how he got to the human world. They all pretty quickly discover Viorel is not the only demon coming through to the human world though. Vivian and Engel are hunting him down and don't believe him when he says he has no clue who they are. They send another demon after him to kill him, though it doesn't work well since he just befriends it and now it is also living in the manor having a good time. Afterwards, Amedeo, a member of the gamer club, starts acting... odd. He invites Aiden to hang out, and then they get kidnapped, Viorel having to go save them. It was only the first incident of many with Amedeo, and he slowly got worse, making everyone really uncomfortable and staying away from him.

Eden didn't want to sit by and watch this happen to her friend, so she tried asking it what was going on. It responded by attacking her, sending her on a trip to the hospital.

It was fine. It was ok. That was her fault, really. She should've known.

Amedeo was kicked out of the gamer club (she hadn't wanted that but she wasn't there to vote on it). Apparently he never went back to his apartment. Some time after his disappearance, Aiden died. She wasn't there when it happened. Viorel said it was Amedeo.

It was... it was fine. It was ok. It was awful. It hurt so much. Awful things kept happening to the people around her and she couldn't do anything about it. Her sibling was dead, it was getting so hard to breathe anymore.

It was fine. It was ok. Aiden... "survived" in a way. They came back as a ghost days later. Stuck in a computer, yeah, but they could still talk. They were still here. It wasn't fair of Eden to stay upset for long, not when Aiden was having the WORST time coping with their new form. So she puts on a smile and acts just like she did before. Everything's going to be alright. Even if she has to be the only one acting like it is.

More time passes. One day, she stares at the back window and finds... Amedeo. He's a mess. He looks like he's been hit with a truck, or like he's been sleeping under a bush the last several days. Frantically, Eden runs outside, chasing him down when he tries to run from her, and pulling him in for a hug. It was alright. It was going to be ok, she promised. How long has it been since you've eaten, do you need water, you can take a nap in one of the fancy beds, I promise I won't let Viorel hurt you I know you're worried, I missed you, I was worried about you, please come inside.

As time passed, things became comfortable again. Amedeo had really changed for the better and was trying so hard to make things right. Viorel built Aiden a new robotic body for them to haunt, and they were getting used to it well. The gamer club was getting back together. Eden, Viorel, and Aiden took a trip to the monster realm to learn more about Viorel's past after his sister showed up looking for him. Eden didn't... really understand what happened. Viorel was pretty upset, but she didn't know why. Just as always, she felt like she was missing something everyone else understood. This wasn't her story, after all. She was just there to smile and remind everyone it was going to be ok. She was a bright spot for them. She knew that. They returned to the human world, some new friends in tow, and things were back on track for a while.

It was fine. It was ok.

In the almost 2 years since all of this began, Reverie was the first person to ever ask her that.

Eden and Reverie begin hanging out a lot after that. Not just for the shoulder to cry on, they really do enjoy each others company. They got close, closer than Eden had ever felt with anyone. It felt... odd. She was having a really hard time naming her feelings for them. She cared about them but something was off. It was really hard to know what was nagging the back of her head. They kept bringing up weird existential ideas, never enough for a full conversation, but they really did have strange ideas about how the world functioned. She kind of liked it though. It was fun to consider the possibility. That maybe none of it was real. What a relief that could be...

"Hey. I want to show you something" Reverie told her one day. They guided her to a private room, making doubly sure no one was around. Confidently, they held out their hand. Above it, floating and glowing softly, was... a menu.

Save, load, quit, settings. A video game menu. Above their head, "player 2".

None of it was real.

Reverie is player 2 of the video game known as "In A Manor Of Speaking". They've played this game hundreds of times. Player 1... Viorel, had left them a long time ago, and has no memory of the nature of the world. So Reverie alone had been restarting the game over and over, trying to find a path that would let them finally beat the final boss and escape the game. If they could just win, they'd finally be able to leave and reenter the real world. 100% maxing out Eden's friendship level was one thing they still hadn't done, until now. They had a good feeling about this one. They were sure of it.

An NPC. That's all she was.

It made sense. She'd always felt that way. She wasn't even important to the plot. She knew it. Of course it'd take them this long to try maxing out her friendship, she was always just a background character. None of it was real. None of it mattered. She was doing such a good job of playing her role, wasn't she? A perfect side piece in a story that isn't hers.

She went along with it. Her odd feelings about Reverie made sense now, that wasn't fully her... she was programmed to feel that way. But she still cared about them. She still wanted to help. Shoving down all the thoughts, it felt so. Easy. To dedicate herself to their goal. She loved them, she cared about them, she hated them, she looked up to them. Something about them was magnetizing and she didn't want to leave. Of course. Of course she'd help. She knew now, that's what she was supposed to do. What a relief. None of it had ever mattered. It was a kind thought to her.

Now she was able to see the save points, the HP bars above peoples heads, sometimes she caught glimpses of dialogue boxes as Reverie spoke to people. They introduced her to someone very special that only the two of them could seem to see. Elysium. She was an AI made for the game to keep it running properly, and to rewrite bits of code, to expand the world they lived in. The game was always evolving because of her. Elysium acted rather cold and grumpy a lot of the time, but there was an undeniable warmth to her that Eden admired.

Knowing about the game was terrifying, but the time she spent with Elysium and Reverie... It was wonderful. She finally felt like she was somewhere she belonged. She never felt so special than when she was with them. It was fun, to be part of the game. It was the happiest she felt in a long time.

...Right?

She still didn't smile much anymore. Reverie dismissed her various concerns often, saying it was fine, she was an NPC, she wouldn't get it. There was always this look in their eye that gave her chills. Reverie would tell her to fight that monster, it's for the EXP. When she protested, they'd tell her, what's the problem? None of this is real. I'll probably have to reload anyways, so none of this will matter in the end. Reverie would get themself in dangerous situations over and over. When Eden was worried about them, Reverie never understood. If they died, they just come back, it wasn't a big deal.

They never really did look at her, or Elysium. Every movement they made felt scripted. Every word, carefully planned. None of it mattered, to them. If Eden was uncomfortable, what did it matter? She wasn't real. She wasn't real. She knew she wasn't real.

But it was fine. It was ok.

Months passed in a blur. Eden hadn't spent much time with her other friends the entire time. She wasn't even sure what they were up to. It didn't matter. They wouldn't have changed their actions if she tried. That was never her choice. But it didn't matter. It was time. Just her and Reverie, and the final boss.

As Reverie rambled about the plan, Eden silently stared down at her palms, as always. She was so... afraid. Worried. She wished she could just give herself some reassurance. ...And the game's menu silently popped up in her hands. It held Reverie's save. ...It wouldn't hurt, she thought. She pressed the save button. It gave her a little comfort.

It was so hard to focus she hardly noticed they were in the battle with Engel now. When had they...? It didn't matter. Reverie was shouting at her, and she snapped back into reality and joined the battle, sword in hand. Engel's blank eyes stared right past her, entirely focused on Reverie. Eden, took a step, and found herself behind them. Time seemed to slow. She didn't remember getting this close to them so quickly. But it was her chance. It was her time. She raised the sword, and brought it down.

Engel's head rolled to the floor, their body collapsing next to it. Reverie and Eden froze. Neither of them dared to breathe. Eden couldn't see anything but the blood on her sword. She nearly dropped it with how heavy it suddenly felt. But quickly Reverie's arms were around her. They picked her up, yelling in excitement, looking more happy than she had ever seen them. They smiled at her so genuinely, and everything melted away. That was all she wanted. She laughed too, the image of Engel's headless corpse disappearing from her mind, losing herself in the relief. It was all over.

The area around them faded to black and white, "THE END" appearing a few feet in front of Reverie. They dropped Eden, and ran towards it, reaching for the "quit" button. And then it was gone. The quit button disappeared right before they could hit it. Leaving only "Restart" and "Reload" beside where it had been.

Eden couldn't see Reverie's face from where she was, but she could feel the chill radiating from them. They were frozen place, the room silent. Then they laughed, something hollow and empty. Then louder, crazed and desperate. They collapsed to the floor, their laughs and sobs intermingling so well Eden couldn't tell the difference between them. She tried to reach out to them, but before she could reach them, she heard them speak.

"If I can't leave, then this world might as well rot."

A folder icon flashed above their now outstretched palm and they reached into it, crushing the code within. Eden immediately felt dizzy. The world began to crumble around them, glitching out in bright colors, awful noises emanating from the edges where nothing but void lay beyond. Eden could see flashes of other places, other people. The world was collapsing in on itself as Reverie laughed. It was so hard to think. It was so hard to be. Eden reached for her sword. It didn't want to stay in her grasp, but her resolve solidifying, she forced it in her hand.

Reverie turned toward her just in time for the blade to pierce their chest. They stopped, in shock, for a struggling heartbeat.

They laughed. They grabbed Eden's hands and pulled, plunging the sword farther through their back, and putting Eden's face closer to theirs. "Do you think this matters?" they taunted through wheezing breaths. "I'll just come back! I always have. I always will! This means NOTHING Eden!"

They stood there for what felt like eternity. Eden didn't know what to say and could barely even see them through the tears in her eyes. But slowly, slowly, Reverie's laugh trailed off. And their face betrayed a sudden hint of fear.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened as their breath hitched again and their legs gave out, dropping them to the floor. Nothing happened as they coughed up blood weakly. Nothing happened. Their HP had already dropped to 0. It never took this long. Nothing happened. Frantically they opened the menu.

It was Eden's save. No, it was Reverie's. No... the names switched back and forth, never settling in place for long. "WHat did yoU DO?" they tried their best to shift their position despite the unbearable pain, looking for Eden. They spotted her in front of the "THE END" screen, processing what she was doing moments too late. She reloaded, and everything went black.

Through a painful haze of noise and color, Eden could hear Elysium's voice. "Do you see what you've done, Reverie?" "pl...ease..." "How the hell am I supposed to fix this?! Look around you Reverie! Look what you've DONE!" "ple.....please...pl... please" "I can only think of one way to fix this. I'm going to delete you. I hope you had fun in the time you were here."

"NO!" Eden screamed out. She didn't want this. But it was all she could do as she finally slipped into what could only be compared to unconsciousness.

She awoke who knows when on a couch in Elysium's room. After making sure she was ok, Elysium explained. She explained everything. Eden trying to reload a save she made when she wasn't even a player freaked out the game so bad, on top of the code Reverie had destroyed... it was a mess. Elysium had stabilized it. Reverie was... well, not really alive, but not really dead either. They were stuck somewhere in between, in the moment they would have died if they hadn't been a player who's supposed to reload if their save wasn't corrupted. But Elysium could fix it, she was sure she could.

Eden asked if this was how this was supposed to go. Elysium sighed, and said yes.

Eden's route in the game wasn't always like this. But Reverie had become so fixated on finding their exit and treating the world around them like nothing but a toy. Elysium hadn't known what else to do. So she rewrote the code, the story, she rearranged the narrative, so Eden would be learn about the game. So she would start to glitch out the system. So she could be invisible to Engel's eyes because she was glitching out so badly, so she could finally be the one to end the game. So Reverie would finally see there was nothing else. This world was all their was.

It was never about Eden.

None of it had ever had anything to do with her.

The narrative had been rewritten just for her. The months of pain. The horrible state Eden had found herself in, agreeing to Reverie's views of the world. That she was worthless. That she was nothing. That this world was a prison. All the sweet moments, all the comfort Eden had felt in those fleeting scenes. It was all for her. None of it was for her. It was always about Reverie. She was one more piece in this awful play.

Eden bid Elysium farewell, and went home.

[pokemedia-text-dump]

teko's uhhhhhh guide to hammer-swinging idiots i think

so i saw a certain @ConcernedRowlet's guide to pokemon care on chatter and i was immediately like "hey this is super good and all but you know what it needs? more memes and affectionate badmouthing of the pokemon in question" so allow me to enlighten you about how to care for these little hammer shitling goblins through the lens of my personal experiences and a shitload of sleep deprivation in the form of a rotumblr post

[ahem] "fuckin' tinkatink line! how do they work?"

[Image ID: A half-conscious Tinkaton sprawled out on its hammer, covered in grime and food debris. Its tongue is hanging out of its mouth slightly.] yes they truly are the pinnacle of grace, aren't they

these guys are all-female fairy/steel types and they're uhhhh so like you know those inventors in a lot of TV shows the ones who somehow come up with just the thing to save the day and can casually flaunt the rules of science because it's cool for the audience to watch like uhhh professor farnsworth or something ...yeah imagine that, but they're perpetually disheveled and constantly acting like they just did a line of cocaine and pounded back a six-pack of monster immediately after

let's start with tinkatink tiny babey the little rattle thing they hoist around that's supposed to be a hammer due to them not being very strong in this form it's less a "hammer" and more like "heavy-ass monster hunter greatsword" to them their technique with it is less "hit the enemy" and more of a "use the sheer weight and heft of the thing to swing yourself around in the hopes you manage to concuss something" sort of thing it's important to get them accustomed to using it quickly so they're less likely to hurt themselves trying to flail around, especially in battles

they're fiercely protective of their little scrap clump, and for good reason you know how i said they're not very strong well ferrovores (metal eaters like aggron or steelix) often eat their hammer  it's like a little iron-flavored sucker this is bad news for the tinkatink, because having the physical strength of a wet spaghetti noodle doesn't do much for self defense

this is not a wild pokemon exclusive thing, either if you have any ferrovorous pokemon in your squad be sure to establish early on that this thing is friend, not food it's important for the tinkatink too they're perfectionists when it comes to the hammer and will take it pretty hard if it gets eaten what you should do if this happens is assure them it's not their fault, and give them little pieces of scrap metal to help them along

now onto tinkatuff! bigger! stronger! dumber? these guys are sort of like the vigoroth of the line well uh if vigoroth didn't evolve into a fat lazy fuck, at any rate in this form, your buddy gets more of the hyperactive temperament the line is known for

they're also very stupid there i said it i'm sorry but they are dumb as all distortion like, they're not dumb in the sense that there's nothing going on up there like a slowbro or volcarona but they're morons in the same way as a frat boy with ADHD on top of having a ridiculous amount of ideas rattling around in their skulls (most of them poorly thought-out) they think they know everything when they really, really don't and since they have the impulse control of a two year old things can go...badly

[Video ID: A Tinkatuff, gleefully carrying a large fragment of a Copperajah tusk and cackling, while getting chased across the screen by a herd of Cufant. Leading them is a very angry-looking Copperajah with most of its left tusk missing. The trainer holding the Rotom Phone can be heard facepalming, then proceeding to mutter "I told you this was a bad idea, you pink idiot..." He then sends out a Ceruledge and starts running forward in an attempt to protect the Tinkatuff.]

in this form it's imperative for you to put a lot of effort into cleaning them this is because they get...filthy like really filthy here's a fun little experiment: attach a poke doll or other such plush toy to a pokemon's leash and let it drag through the dirt as it runs then briefly dunk it in whatever you're cooking for dinner  congratulations you're now in the ballpark of how dirty they get

in the wild they basically live in huge burrows of scrap metal and food waste they make in their forges they have little to no standards for cleanliness because of this told you they were like frat boys they eventually begrudgingly pick the bare minimum off of their trashpile-mates when their fur becomes super duper matted and stuff it's up to you to keep them from getting to this point by gently scrubbing, cleaning and thoroughly combing their fur on the regular fortunately they don't like, hate baths and stuff: they just really can't be assed to clean themselves in the slightest

ooh right right right the hammer almost forgot about that not long after evolving these guys will seek out any metal they can get their mitts on to beef up their hammer ...the "beefing up" usually consists of just taping on a few pieces of bent metal and lengthening the pole, but still, A for effort

but when i say any metal i mean any metal they can and will get it off of a large appliance, your plumbing, even a steel-type corpse if you leave them to their own devices they can literally smell metal so don't think your plumbing is safe either so as soon as they evolve it's best to get them more materials fortunately many stores in paldea (and a few other places) sell different types of sheet metal for the express purpose of sating their appetite and if not just going to your local hardware place is usually enough to tide them over or if you're really cheap you could just rummage for stuff in local scrapyards take her with you when you do this your partner has a good eye for what they're after, she'll know which kind of metal is right for her the hammer gets juiced up more and more as they get stronger so you're gonna have to provide them with more metal when it finally reaches a certain size and grandiose-ness you can often expect them to evolve not long after

on top of that, being the ADHD-ass little nutjobs that they are, they test their hammer by smashing it against whatever catches their eye they get much physically stronger here, so their swings have a bit of heft to them now unless you want a lot of ventilation in your home take measures to control this immediately fill a punching bag with rocks, let them go nuts with it, and put it back up again whenever they start beefing up their hammer some more this teaches them not to hit random stuff

and finally tinkaton! tinkaton are crafty very crafty they're still not smart by any means but they are crafty so crafty, in fact, that they often use other pokemon as tools

[Video ID: A Tinkaton, holding a Charcadet upside down above a hunk of metal that it's working on. The Charcadet's fire plume is shining brightly as the Tinkaton uses it to weld a handle to its creation like a blowtorch.]

there are close to no limits on what they can find uses for, so if one of your team members finds themselves getting used as a power drill or smth, don't be surprised: this even applies to their battle strategies

they get a lot stronger in this phase and i mean a lot you think some of the stuff fighting types like machamp and conkeldurr can handle are impressive try hurling around a 200lb+ blunt object like it's a long twig and still being able to lift more if they wanted to they could probably swing you around as a hammer too! ....not sure how well that would go, since you'd probably splatter as soon as they hit you against something, but they still could!

their hammer is very large and elaborate now it's almost a miracle that it's still built around the same rattle thing it had as a tinkatink! they don't need beds or blankets or anything because, get this, they just plant the hammer into the ground and pass out i always wonder how their back isn't torn to fucking pieces when they wake up from sleeping on a giant lump of metal if they trust you enough, they'll eventually start lightly bopping you on the head with it as a sign of affection!

in the wild, they live in large clans with other members of their line called "forges" these forges are equal part giant trash and scrap burrows and huge testing grounds for whatever crazy thing they decide to band together and build they also make prosthetics for wounded pokemon out of steel-type carcasses in exchange for scrap metal and berries!

forges typically give roving trainers a wide berth because they know pissing off humans is a bad idea very rarely a stray tinkatuff will ignore this because, again, they're foolhardy dumbasses if they go after you just hit it with a few status moves and it'll typically turn tail and get a stern talking to from the forge's elders or you could just use whirlwind or smth the different forges in paldea are proficient at utilizing different pokemon, and even form sort of partnerships with them for example the asado desert forge teams up with varoom and revavroom to use them as steeds [Image ID: A Tinkaton with a red scrap cloth headband riding a Revavroom, leading a pack of Tinkatuff and Tinkatink riding several Varoom.]

as you'd guess from this they're very social creatures it's important to let them bond with the rest of your team better in this form, as they serve as surrogates for their pack if you want you can also visit your local forge to let your tinkaton screw around with the forge members a bit for funsies

a common misconception is that tinkaton hunt down corviknight by tossing rocks (or sometimes other pokemon, such as falinks troopers) at them in the air with their hammer hence why squawkabilly is used as the flying taxi coach in paldea this is actually a lie and they get hard walled by corviknight (and then they get salty over not being able to do anything useful in the battle) they do it because to them it's funny as shit it's like their equivalent to miltank tipping they don't really do it to other people's corviknight because it's not as funny: they don't get as surprised because they're far closer to the ground

they're also super driven to build stuff what is "stuff?" nobody knows! not even them! sometimes they just get a flash of inspiration and start scribbling out plans for some sort of grandiose scrap metal behemoth and you just have to roll with it if you have a bit of engineering/mechanical know-how, you can feel free to join in the fun!

....unfortunately that's where the burglary sprees start

now i know what you're thinking you little smarty-nipple

"wehhhh but maybe yours is just a bad temperament or you're not raising it right or-"

N O .

i have worked with several of these rattata bastards and i can say with complete certainty that they're all a bunch of kleptomaniacal shitheads seriously if you took one of those Rabbid things from Rayman and gave them a hammer well uh you wouldn't exactly have a tinkaton but you'd be pretty arcdamn close

if they need metal and you don't give it to them they will steal things computer parts refrigerator doors stove hatches engine blocks it does not matter what it is or what it's made of if it ain't nailed down and it's made of metal they're taking that shit this is why it's really, really important to teach them to ask for your aid if they're in the mood to build something

they also need to hunt wild steel-types not often, mind you, kinda like pyroar prides but it's still sometimes tinkaton are hardwired to kill for their materials giving them sheet metal and stuff helps with the urge to build but not the urge to "disassemble" steel types you'll need to get the proper licenses to hunt pokemon and only go after any steel-types that are in season to do this what they're after is metal pokemon with only small bits of metal on their body, or those which have the metal-y bits on the inside, like lucario or togedemaru, are typically off the menu they also need you to help, and possibly your other pokemon remember what i said about them being pack hunters to them, you're the pack's leader, so they look to your guidance for hunting

unfortunately this, along with the stealing part, is why a lot of trainers end up abandoning/releasing them in this phase some people can't bring themselves to be complicit in outright hunting down pokemon, only capturing them, which is understandable being denied part of the enrichment it needs, the tinkaton begins lashing out in other areas to try and vent some of the stress it's built up with no other suitable outlets this can lead to your opponents or even other people getting seriously hurt if you're looking to raise one of these guys, please, look for a suitable alternative unless you're willing to really, really commit that said, give 'em what they need and rein them in here and there and you'll have a loyal (if slightly violent) partner who can come up with some truly amazing things like this [Image ID: A Tinkaton decked out in an imposing suit of armor made from assorted scrap metal and Steel-type hide, posing triumphantly atop its hammer, which is planted into the ground. The armor has a Corviknight's head plating as a helmet, and a segment of a Forretress' shell hanging from the back like a cape.]

finally, a few anecdotes from my own specimen of these dum-dum yokel gremlins

cotton likes eating her food on her hammer as well as sleeping on it, yet she doesn't like it getting cleaned ...she doesn't seem to make the correlation between a dirty hammer and more baths ...nor does she seem to care

she likes listening to "Sweet Release of DEATH - Sugary Spire" before battles because it gets her even more hyper than usual this helps because i like to use her as a support lead/damage dealer hybrid, because, as befitting their crafty nature, they learn a lot of support-oriented moves

anyway yeah that's all i got later nerds

[charliespringverse]

iwbft – ghosted: a Bonus brief summary of my annotations

all highlighted quotes: 91

· ouch/ow/owie: 5

· real/felt/relatable/so true: 4

· ☹/☹☹/☹☹☹: 4

She said Shrek and Fiona, and then told me she never wanted to be famous. — the double life thing babeyy

“Jimmy,” he heaves out, and I feel a stab of panic in my chest. — just hearing ur friend's name shouldn't be enough to trigger panic unless u already know something is Very Wrong . at which point i feel they should've pushed for further help instead of finishing out the tour

“We can’t leave Jimmy out.” Lister stands shirtless in the middle of the room and spins around on the spot. — fuck yeah trio tingz :')

It almost makes me laugh how polite and casual Rowan manages to sound, despite the fact that our best friend is missing. — IT'S A DEFENCE MECHANISM!!!!!

I only wonder how much of it is my fault. — none of it bb dw :( he is Not With It enough to be thinking abt anyone but himself rn

“But I can’t drive.” Rowan stares at me. “I thought you had lessons.” “I only had three lessons.” And then I got bored, or tired, or busy, or all three. — ... adhd lister btw

Why would he do this to us? To me? — i think jimmy's dependence on rowan is more reciprocated than he realises

If we weren’t in a famous band together, I’m not sure whether we’d still be friends now. — this rly hurts my feelings and it hurts more bc he isn't necessarily Wrong i don't think

“You do know I can play eight instruments, right?” “But not the drums, huh.” Rowan folds his arms. “You will never let me live that down.” — LISTERROWAN BESTIEISM BANTER BABEY

“But you think I’m an idiot who has nothing intelligent to say.” “I don’t think that.” “Yeah, you do. You’d much rather I was the one who was missing right now.” Rowan doesn’t respond. We both know I’m right. — WELL MAYBE BUT U DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME THAT. I DON'T WANNA THINK ABOUT IT.

“I wish you wouldn’t—” he begins but is cut off when his phone buzzes. — i hate that the phone gave him a get out from being open n sincere w lister :^(

“That’s a Southeastern Railway train,” says Lister instantly. “You can tell by the seat patterns.” — [freddie mercury voice] auuuuutism auuuuutism i want to ride my autism (note: this is summat @to-grill-a-mockingbird says and now i can never get it out of my head)

“He needs a night off.” "A night off from … what? His entire life?” Piero chuckles. “Yes.” — i mean ouch but also Yeah

“That was good news. He hasn’t been kidnapped. He just needed a nap.” “Can you not make a joke about this situation for like one fucking minute, Allister?” — could be the tism on my end but i didn't take this as a joke . jimmy needs a break, piero told them that, lister has seen enough to agree . (also: lister has Also contemplated running away so it makes sense he's less eager to bring jimmy back to ldn bc he doesn't see it as fixing the problem the same way rowan does)

Why do I always have to be the serious one? The worrier? Why can’t someone else do the worrying sometimes? — other ppl Do worry . but not so much that it becomes its own problem worthy of therapy

We save the deep chats for Jimmy. Jimmy doesn’t open up very often, but you know Jimmy will listen if you have something serious to say. — vs jimmy's wednesday narration 'we don't ever talk about deep stuff, me and lister bird' :((((

This whole bedroom is something out of twelve-year-old Lister’s wildest fantasies—it’s spacious and modern, with one floor-to-ceiling window, dark walls, LED lights behind the headboard, and a fifty-inch TV. — what u lack as a child you seek as an adult etc etc (space, material possessions, money)

Rowan’s room is always tidy. He puts away his clothes at the end of the day and makes his bed in the mornings. — always craving order & control :(

Rowan loves to criticize me about buying unnecessary things, but all I need to do is remind him of the velvet chaise longue in his bedroom that I’m pretty sure nobody has ever sat on. — comedy gold amidst the agony

He blinks at me. “You remembered my weird order?” — remembering ppl's orders is a love language

“Can I … ?” I shuffle on my feet. “Can we eat it in here?” — i hate that he's so uncertain n lacking in confidence while asking one of his best friends

I’ve always been deeply annoyed by what a high metabolism he has. I work out three times a week with a personal trainer just to stay toned. — rowan's fixation on body image makes me ✨nervous✨

“You were reading?” I ask, eyebrow raised. Lister narrows his eyes at me. “Wow, hilarious." — i stand by my 'lister loves to read but nobody ever assumes that or believes him bc their perception is skewed by him not gelling with academia' hc

“But don’t you see how that’s, like, still very fucked-up behavior, Rowan?” — GET HER JADE

And it’s scary that he thinks he’s completely fine. That this level of stress is normal. That he’s a functioning, well-adjusted human who is able to cope with being one of the most famous musicians in the world with absolutely no help or support whatsoever. — yeah :((

“You kissed him,” Rowan says. “So he decided to climb out of a window and run away.” “I mean, yeah, in summary.” — but no, realistically

Rowan wipes a tear from his eye. “Oh my God. So funny.” He’s properly pissing me off now. — give him a break roseph he's already mentally ill u don't have to embarrass him as well (/lh)

It’s a question I’ve asked myself every day for years. A question I’ve answered in daydreams, in nightmares, in conversations with myself in the shower. A question I still don’t know the answer to, and maybe never will. A question that doesn’t need an answer, now that I know for sure that Jimmy doesn’t like me back. — aaaaaagonyyyyy beyond power of speeeeeeech when the thing that u want is the only thing out of ur reach

“But … the circumstances of our relationship are so challenging. We live in very, very different worlds, and our lives are on very different trajectories. And sometimes I think relationships just can’t survive that.” — JUSTICE FOR LAIMONDI :(

Jimmy fell asleep almost immediately, a feat that would become less and less common as we all got older, but Lister and I couldn’t sleep because we were too busy watching funny YouTube videos on my phone, muffling laughs into our hands, trying not to wake anyone up. — BABY ARK MY CHILDREN