#mouse time wahoo

[bipbopdepmop]

basic weasel structure

[sundewa]

thank u for 1k also its my birthday and that means u have to interact with this if u see it. its the law

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #7] Sex With An Ex

warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk’s lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(

soundtrack:don’t know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jeongguk's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.

He knows you're in a taxi - had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell.

Jimin is yet to notice it.

You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.

And so, Jeongguk waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.

Yet when your taxi rolls up - and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep - he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jeongguk.

Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.

Your lips are thin as you smile.

He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally, but you can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.

He walks to meet you - just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot - and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.

"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jeongguk says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.

A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jeongguk's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.

They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.

When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there's no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.

He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.

"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.

Jeongguk doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.

He just nods, though. "Of course."

The shrill beep of his entryway door code being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jeongguk presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.

"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."

"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."

He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.

He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.

This is something different entirely.

He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."

You nod, as if you knew.

Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.

The lead is taken by Jeongguk until you reach his apartment.

He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.

Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jeongguk's wearing a shirt this time.

When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.

"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.

Makes you curious, too.

Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.

He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.

But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.

You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jeongguk's hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.

"I told you not to be mean!"

You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jeongguk loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-

"These are action figures, Gguk."

"They're sculptures."

"Toys."

"Collectibles."

"Collectible toys."

He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.

"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"

And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.

It somehow comes as no surprise that Jeongguk would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.

"Can I-?" You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.

"Go for it," Jeongguk says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.

A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.

"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites - Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.

His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.

"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.

You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.

Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.

He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.

You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.

"You make them?"

"Mhmm."

"They're pretty."

"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five year old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.

His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.

"No disco balls tonight?"

The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."

Jeongguk snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."

And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.

But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.

"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature-"

The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jeongguk all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.

Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.

"- and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jeongguk lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"

"It's not a bitch to get out."

"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

There's silence as Jeongguk thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.

In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.

He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.

But you are here. And he knows he's right - things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?

He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.

He's been in your position before.

Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.

And so he's kind, instead.

"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."

You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.

There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same - shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.

"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you say with a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.

"You saw him tonight?" Jeongguk asks.

All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.

"You slept with him?"

Jeongguk feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he want to get to the root of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.

A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you.

Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he feels like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.

You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.

God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.

You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.

Instead, his hands had been so warm and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.

Jeongguk doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend - as a duty of care - he has to.

"Did he..." Jeongguk pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.

"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."

"You've been crying," Jeongguk objects.

"Didn't hurt me like that."

He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.

"You wanna talk about it?"

To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jeongguk pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.

The silver of his jewellery - his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck - just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.

They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.

Not Jeongguk. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.

You'd worn them for Seokjin.

Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.

You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile. 

Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.

They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.

But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.

His voice had been so soothing at the time - "still take me so well, darling" - like aloe on sunburn - "like that. Fuck, darlin', like that" - but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh- shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."

Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Good girl. Good fuckin' girl." Destroying. "Fuck."

And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.

His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.

You're broken, and it shows.

You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."

"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."

"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then-" Your voice cracks. "And then he left."

Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.

Jeongguk knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.

"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jeongguk knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."

One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jeongguk thinks he should cut them all down.

"What do you mean?"

"The whole..."

When you pause, Jeongguk looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.

"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile - because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue - but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."

You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-

"You're not a problem," Jeongguk says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."

"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jeongguk remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."

He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"

"It's not. It's entirely correct. Gguk, I-" you sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.

You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.

"You...?" He encourages.

"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." You voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"

You're speaking so quietly that all Jeongguk can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.

"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. I..." you tail off, but Jeongguk doesn't push for more.

Just waits till you're ready - and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.

"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay - but then you messaged and - fuck."

You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.

"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."

By the time you finish venting, Jeongguk looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.

Jeongguk's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.

He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends - he's had a few of those - but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.

And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wandering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.

But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"

"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.

Jeongguk's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants - and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.

And so he just gently smiles, and says, "it really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."

You nod. "Fucking sucks."

He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.

He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.

"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave -" This is a lie. "- and now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."

Jeongguk grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."

"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."

And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.

"Did you at least... yanno?"

Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jeongguk is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.

"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jeongguk's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now-"

"That he's a cunt?"

"-Then maybe I wouldn't have."

You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.

You'll never admit to any of that, though.

Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.

"I'm sorry he left," Jeongguk says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.

"Me too."

He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.

"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."

You laugh, and Jeongguk feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"

"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"

You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.

And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.

He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jeongguk shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."

There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.

"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."

And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."

He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jeongguk might just be the strangest human you've ever met.

But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.

Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.

You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jeongguk first mentioned. It's sweet - almost as sweet as your own vanilla one - but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again - but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.

You've cried enough.

And so wrap yourself in Jeongguk's towel, close the lid of their toilet and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jeongguk didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning - but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.

It's kinda his fault for texting you at five AM and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.

"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"

"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."

"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"

"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jeongguk sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.

"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."

"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."

You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.

At least, not a sleepover like this.

Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jeongguk's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, 'cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.

He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.

"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.

Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.

He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all - but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.

There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over) - but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.

He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.

And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

baby brother!Charlie getting wood late at night and coming to wake you up for help because hes just so horny for you its pathetic and he doesnt know what else to do with himself

oh how i love you brother!Charlie

im french kissing your brain pookie <3

hey, ignore that it's mid-november, here's a halloween post

genderfucked reader, im indecisive

cw: somno, incest (WAHOO), dubcon but everyone's fine with everything, of course one of my first works back is part of the sibcon charlie au (as far as i know, created by @moistcl1tikal-ao3 )

he couldnt stop looking at you all night, your cute little whore-for-halloween costume hugging you just perfectly. but he had to save those thoughts and memories for later!

except later did not happen, he crashed as soon as he laid down on his bed after the parties and events you dragged him to so you could show off your cute, nerdy lil bro

so, naturally, he woke up about 2 hours later with the hardest boner of his life the month. all because he kept dreaming of getting to touch you under your booty shorts

poor boy was still too tired to wanna deal with it though! so he tried to go back to sleep, deal with it in the morning, but he couldnt get comfy or stop thinking about your head between his legs

plan a failed, time for plan b: choke the chicken

he tried so hard, looked up all his favorite pornos, his favorite pictures of you, a pair of stolen panties, he pulled out all the stops :/ and it just made him ache and throb more for you

so final plan, the riskiest plan, wake you up and beg on his goddamn knees that you aren't too grumpy

he knew you werent the nicest person ever when you got woken up, especially when somewhat hungover, so he tread with caution

even got a towel, pillow, snack, and bottle of water for you :(

busts out every petname in the book when he tries to shake you awake

"sissy.. sis? brother?? dearest sibling??? bubba???? 🤨 you alive motherfucker???" the shaking picked up speed and intensity, no longer worried about you being mad, just half convinced you passed away in your sleep

"geddafuqouddaherecharlee" you mutter, smacking him away but still rolling over for him to join you, thinking he had a nightmare or something

charlie slid into bed behind you, careful to not make any sudden moves, worried he'd say or do the wrong thing and ruin his chances of getting some tonight

he talked to you sweetly, gently, with purpose, he was making amazing points

"i dunno if i'm allowed to ask or if only you get to initiate but i'll do all your chores for a month if you help me out here..."

he waited

nothing happened

you were out COLD

so time for his impromptu new final plan: beg for forgiveness not permission. he tries to rationalize it! you've never rejected his advances before, you're insatiable, this is probably something your into! maybe just being in your bed and surrounded by the smell of you can help him get there

so he stole some lube from your bedside table

it was so absurdly cold that he of course made a very manly sound (screamed like a mouse would) and jumped a bit, enough to wake you up again

so you turn to charlie, terrified because what the fuck was your little brother possibly experiencing to shatter everyone's eardrums at 2:33am

and you catch him, cock in one hand, other hand covering his mouth to avoid making more noise, but you already caught him slick-handed. and if you weren't so exhausted you would absolutely jump his bones in an instant, but the hangover was already kicking in so while seeing your younger brother trying to jerk off to you in your own bed would usually light a bonfire in your gut, this was more like a backyard fire pit sized one

so, being the amazing older sibling you are, you chuckle and coo at him, inching your hand towards the one on his cock

"awww my poor baby brother cant get off without me?" you fake a pout as your hand finds its way to cupping his balls, massaging gently

"pleasepleaseplease, need you so bad, needed you-needed you all night" he begs and involuntarily bucks his hips into your hand, eyes glued shut and hands fisted in your sheets, overcome with pleasure

he doesn't see or i guess hear or feel you shifting to be closer to his dick, or he just doesn't acknowledge it

but he sure notices when you grab the base and flick your tongue over the tip

"you're too cute" is the last thing he hears before being overrun by pure ecstasy as he finally cums when you take him fully down your throat, thank yous pouring out of his pink, bitten lips

his hands fly to hold your head in place, you let him until you start gagging

he lets go and starts profusely apologizing and thanking you

"you can make it up to me if you want.." you say seductively as you lay on your back and spread your knees just enough to get the point across

@th3-circus @xoxoave @jschladderall @manticore-fangs

im not dead which is shocking to everyone im pretty sure.. anyway here ya go <3

[i-rate-horse-games]

starshine legacy playthrough final part!

Level 6 - Devil’s Gap

AAAUGH

you guys aren’t gonna believe this my new mouse battery died and i can no longer move the camera to see in directions other than forwards. gotta win this duel with the cool girl’s brother and i’ve failed twice so far

hahaha but in a lucky turn of events, the SECOND mouse i bought came with a battery!!! and it WORKS!!! i’m so glad i was immature and bought both a reasonable mouse and a mouse that was shaped like a hamster

this is my favorite type of gameplay tbh

hooray!! saved the kid brother from mind control! and kidnapping! and other stuff too probably

Level 7 - Epilogue

what, no competition?

ohhhh no there’s a ten minute timer AND it’s playing the majora’s-mask-moon-is-falling stress ominous music this is NOT going to be sillay

ok so there’s these round things we’re walking on, right?

if you walk off the edges of that, the game can’t decide if we’re walking on it or not, so we’re able to ride off into the air and float

uhh not a lot of instruction on how to destroy these things

i’m heeeeere

ohhhhhh apparently that’s just decorative and i need to look for a swirly vortex instead???

ok so here’s what’s happening - this place has sorta 3 levels. low, mid, and high. you go to the central middle platform to either go up or down. up seems to be just to help you get a visual of where you need to go. if you fall too much you just die and get set back where you were OR you get this glitch where the screen goes black and you can’t do anything but start from scratch, negating past progress. the lower level seems to have all the access to each portal. i’m having a rough time

NOOOOO I WAS HALFWAY THROUGH BUT I RESPAWNED UNDERNEATH EVERYTHING

as soon as we land on the area, the Monsters get us … i didn’t see them touch us… but i HAVE to ride in on the horse to make the jump, and i can’t use Murder Powers while on horseback… takin a break

FLAWLESS run after the break!!! i beat the game!!! i was wrong about the layout lol it clicked soon afterwards & figured out alex could take out two of the baddies before riding over the gap!

wahoo!!!!!!!

[misssugarpinkshome]

Heyyyyy

So, it’s been. A biiit. And I keep meaning to post something about it all or let you all know, but I keep intending to post it when I get my next chap of WKYH done - and that’s been slow going (progress is progress but still).

So. Here’s the run down. Buckle up, cause here’s how my past year went (a fair bit of trauma dumping but also want y’all to know)

The TL;DR: this boy can pack so much trauma in him! But also a whole lotta life and some good stuff too. I’ll write more this year I promise 💙

Got Covid over Christmas into January 2022.

Moved in January 2022, with Covid, into a new basement apartment (in freezing temps, with no heat on in the house).

My secret partner of 5 years moved in with me about 2-3 weeks later, bringing with them the most perfectest little stray kitty in the world.

We try to unpack while working full time as teachers.

We have a mouse we have to handle, wolf spiders, ants, and drain flies. But it’s $400 a month to live here in a 5 room basement apartment with a kitchen and bedroom. No utilities to pay. Jesus we’re lucky.

I start therapy and get diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder (we been know but heyo we’re open about it now on this account). Also medically recognized as autistic, tho a diagnosis isn’t really needed atm.

I undergo severe harassment on a sideblog of mine on another account.

(Have I mentioned that’s just January?)

Things continue, I start processing how fucked up I am.

I come out to my sister as gay and a system in February. She keeps my secret but doesn’t talk to me.

Partner brings home 7 cats who need to be fostered, which we don’t have room for, but take care of anyways. (2 got adopted; The 5 that are left are STILL at their parent’s house, and we STILL go over and feed them regularly).

I come out to my parents as gay and a system in March. I miss work due to the trauma responses fucking up my body, my mom demands to see me, I have a 2 hour long conversation with her in the parking lot of Safeway. I’m dead certain I’m going to die that night (mostly due to trauma, wahoo).

Didn’t die! Woohoo! But I did black out for a day. No memories! Memories came back with a new alter in the system. Wahoo.

Report my shitty coworker for sexual harassment. He’s still working there 🫠

Remember that harassment on the sideblog? It continued on through all of this, including threats of Doxxing, threats of assault (sexual or otherwise), and sooo many suibaits. I end up deleting that blog and remaking to make the harassment calm down. It thankfully did (mostly).

In summer, got a long message from my sister saying “hey we should talk” which boiled down to “I see you as a friend but not family anymore. Let’s start over our entire relationship.” Which. Hurt, to say the least, especially since it came the same day I was going camping in the woods for a week and would have no cell service. So. Great.

Went on vacation with my partner’s family in Wisconsin. It was really really good, even though it’s really blurry.

Went on vacation with my family in Aruba. Aruba was super good. We ignored everything I’d come out about and everyone just… tried to ignore what was happening. Cool 👍 Nice. Awesome.

Started the new school year with a MUCH BETTER COWORKER (still have to deal with the other guy though but this is leagues better) and a new 140 students.

Visit my parents semi-regularly, but don’t communicate at all with my sister. It’s always awkward and bad visiting my family. It takes 2 visits for my father to even talk to me directly.

I learn I experienced Some Real Fucking Bad Trauma from my parents (not the worst kind, not what comes to mind immediately, but the memories and horror are there now) and got a new alter.

Things continue like this for awhile. Then, in October, I get very sick. It’s a viral infection. It lasts from mid October to the end of October, when I get pink eye on top of it.

I heal up, and me and my partner get surprised engaged.

I get a resurgence of the infection in mid November. I miss more school. I am now out of sick days.

December rolls around. I catch Covid. I’m out for a week, the week before winter break. I’m now at -9 hours of sick time, and that’s with bonus days.

I miss my partner’s family Christmas, but I’m no longer positive for Covid when my parents have Christmas. So I drive to my parents, leaving behind my partner (who has Covid now)

My parents are nice, my sister is nice, it’s all very nice. The trauma responses I have aren’t nice. I try to give my mom a card from my partner. She doesn’t accept it, and tells me she will never read it.

I decide to cut my family off.

And now it’s January again. I’m freezing cold, but I’m in love, and things are looking up? But I’m sure y’all can understand why it’s taken me a bit of time to get my feet on the ground. Writing’s been hard while I just try to survive. But survival is coming a bit better now.

I’m hoping to write more this year. We’ll see how I do!

Thank you for your patience. :)

[rapid-prototyping-project]

Creating a dungeon crawler [cont. 2]

The code for spawning new rooms via the collision boxes has now been added.

This code works great. Until we get to spawning from the top and botoom. These spawn diagonally for reasons beyond my comprehension.

Ok I have no recollection of changing a single thing in the code but it stopped doing this. No, I don't know why. It also crashes loading a new room now.

This macro prevented infinite loops and therefore crashes. I also made the room, at Reece's request, rotate -90 on the Z axis when spawned. This worked in so much that diagonal rooms no longer spawn, but now the player controls rotate every time you stop going straight and go through an adjacent door. why.

After implementing the macro and removing the -90 rotation, we're back to generation not working. yay! wahoo! i'm not even having fun anymore! i just wanna go home! yippee!

I've come back the next day and rewritten the code. It still doesn't work. I've just rotated the room by -90 and decided that's just how it is now. It's really just that or I walk out and I'm beginning to seriously consider the latter.

Next to mitigate my decliniing mental health, I added an actor class array into my master room - this will store all the other rooms so they can be generated randomly. On my first try, the array wouldn't accept any variables. That was fun

This was then hooked up to the spawning node, so the rooms should spawn randomly. I really hope it works.

[it did not. The first room never spawned, only the second. Call me chernobyl's reactor 4 the way i am becoming increasingly unstable please dear god help me i am just moving on i will likely just not fix this i do not care anymore]

This code should make a sphere follow the mouse. It probably works great but I am yet to see where the hell I call the custom event.

I tied the Show Mouse node to event beginplay, and everything else to on tick. Nothing happens. I'm not even unstable anymore, I'm just sad.

[WEIRD GENERATION AND CONTROLS RANDOMLY ROTATING HAS BEEN FIXED. I JUST NEEDED TO ADD A SPRING ARM TO ATTACH THE CAMERA TO, AND DISABLE INHERIT ROTATIONS]

[zwei-rhunen]

 context: i am not a tank

i am barely a PUG tbh lmao

So i woke up today and chose violence tanking :)

first we run like two trials that i felt were pretty straightforward, to gimme a taste of dat tank cuisine, and both went well

> i was OT and both MTs were great and like. OT didnt have much other responsibilities outside of being emergency tank tbf, but still, i get confident, and i’m ready for a lil more chaos

me: how complicated is tanking nidhogg? 

@lord-kefka-palazzo​ the healer: not that complicated. just keep adds separate, faced away, etc

me: COOL LETS DO THAT ONE NEXT

the game plan for Nidhogg: i’m gonna off-tank! and then maybe the next fight i will consider being main tank. no promises, tho

> totally not me, entertaining myself with trying to get the perfect lil’ jumpy twirl and not paying attention to the rest of the party that’s already running into battle bc ppl already finished their cutscenes

“OH IT’S STARTED-”

/goes

/goes a lil too hard

/goes so hard, in fact, that i do my rotation. my fingers hit the two buttons to /stance, and i dont notice bc I’ve been treating it as part of my tank rotation, and not like, its own separate rotation

(i’m getting the feeling that its more of an opener, since it seems that tank stance is situational)

/ ???? i have stance on???

/oh fuck, i have stance on

/hurriedly looks for stance buttons b/c i suddenly have no idea where they are b/c its not the beginning of the fight and my brain has already filed that information away into its proper cabinet b/c i dont need to recall it anymore b/c battle already started and i have the monke neural pathway of smth like

“DEF tanking():

IF fight begins THEN tank stance; IF fight in progress THEN take boss, go north, dont die, win fight ELSE panic and pray; ” seared into my skull bc dungeon-brain

the next bit took like 20 seconds to play out even though it seems hella longer, ik:

“wjhu-why is my stance button over here”

/turns stance off

/still MT’ing

what.jpg

>its off, right??

>squints at button in confusion. it’s blue. idk what the color means. i think it means tank off (no it meant i had it “on”, and pushing it again would turn it off.) i flip it a few times, like the way your annoying sibling does when they flicker the light switch in your bedroom.

>??????? why is it on a cooldown??? stance has cooldowns??????

> mouse-over, look at description- oh wait i’m pressing the wrong set of button combos lmao

> take stance off

/still have aggro

/looks at party list

/MT has also toggled stance off, since i’ve done the animal-kingdom strut that means “i want to tank” (i actually do not, silently hoping to please take him back :’) )

/ MT is being very chill and a team player and letting me have at it

/boss begins targeting other people

/flips stance back on

exhibit A: me, panicking :)

Exhibit B: trying to assume my MT role and also trying to signal that “THIS WAS NOT MY INTENTION and also uhhhh MT is NOT taking it BACK, WHAT DO I DO” -

except i dont have time to type all that

so instead, i put everything into one heartfelt line and hope it gets the same message across:

> and at the same time, hydaelyn appears before my mind’s eye with a very important message for me - she says,

 “congrats, you are the Main Tank now :) “

>okokok FUCK it, i’m MT now, lets go nidhogg

> ....

>it was not fine (the stars aligned and a chain of other unfortunate events also happened lool)

>we get to the dragon phase! but end up wiping and try again

> i am determined to not stance this time. i will not touch stance. we are going to run in and DPS and let the other tank be MT and i will SIT HERE, happily doing DPS and tanking during adds.

> lol so THAT lasted like 10 seconds.

but its okay we passed the second time wahoo

Me:

thank you, kind PUG, but i definitely did not deserve that LMFAOOOOO

post-fight:

oh hey, i forgot about these nine other buttons, what do they do-

-flashback to when it was me, the other tank, and the healer remaining for a good, 30 looooong seconds-

and also sitting next to it:

Finisher move:

/checks journal

(listen PLD was so boringggg i dragged myself to 50, stopped and haven’t looked back LMFAO (don’t kill me tho i’ll get to them!! at some point ) )

Bonus: The Limitless Blue (Hard)

me trying to be good and dodging splash AOEs

and then i remember wait a MINUTE i’m A

!!!! SO CAN I? CAN I???? I CAN

THEM RIGHT?? probably???? idk probably yeah

/chills out and stops spinning things b/c im not dodging the splashing AOEs anymore

“i am INVINCIBLE-”

-proceeds to get my ass thrown into the air, b/c twisters believe in humbling everyone equally-

[necrothezma]

Ok I will draw the Kirby stuff tomorrow lads I’m getting sleepy

[kiyoominous]

the librarian's love letters

mondstadt's library is always quiet, lisa has always made it her personal duty to ensure that. the corridors and aisles today are still, save for the rustling of paper from the librarian's desk. 

"oh my, these are an awful lot of love letters." lisa whispers, "and when were these so kindly dropped off?" 

"this morning." a quiet voice replies. lisa lets out a gentle hum which echos alongside shuffling paper. 

"i wonder if the mailman fell asleep while he delivered this today." nervous giggles follow her remark. 

through some astronomical calamity, lisa and hikari have found a mountain of love letters delivered to mondstadt library! oh whatever shall they do...

first off, thank you so much for 200 followers! wahoo! it means a lot that you guys are reading my writing because that means it doesn't suck! time to do another event heheheh

now for this event, i'm going to be writing love letters! there will be a select list of things you can choose to customise your letter! these are going to be sfw only. 

the event will be running from 9pm on feb 18th to 9pm on feb 25th. this will be in aest time. 

first, please tell me who you'd like a letter from! i write for genshin impact and haikyuu so those are your options. 

you will have a choice of a letter, which will be a traditional one piece, and sticky notes, which will be a collection of short notes. 

there are different inks you can choose from, which will determine what type of letter this will be. you can only choose one: 

blue: i miss you letter pink: confession letter red: good old love letter purple: break up letter yellow: thank you letter green: words of encouragement black: words of hatred

along with inks, there will also be stickers! these will be tropes that you can attach to your letter and you can have up to five: 

heart: fluff star: angst bubble: comfort dog: modern times cat: teyvat times bunny: high schoolers hamster: college goers  fish: office workers bird: royalty mouse: at a coffee shop  rose: married lavender: long distance sunflower: childhood friends daffodil: best friends violet: roommates dandelion: strangers lily: star-crossed lovers iris: enemies washi tape: letter i hid under my bed scotch tape: the one who got away

and finally, you will have a choice of a wax seal, which will be a romantic letter, or not, which will be a platonic letter. 

here's an example of how you'd ask for a love letter: 

"hi, could i get sticky notes from albedo? i'd like it written in pink ink with a heart, dog, sunflower, washi tape and a wax seal please." 

if there is a type of letter or a trope you'd like that isn't on the list, feel free to list it! i'd prefer to stick with the list but if you'd really like it, i'd be alright to write it.

thank you again for 200 and i’m excited to see what you guys start requesting!  

[auspice-writes]

Wahoo!! it’s done!!

Warnings: mild gore, abandonment, death, attempted murder, magic surgery, implied dissociation in pov character

Cecile Dies At The End.

The morning after the wedding, Cecile was anything but pleased. Her new husband who did not love her, slept beside her, her new ruby glinting on the nightstand. Cecile’s neck craned up, and she looked at first one, then the other. If she had been a different woman, she might have let her heart ache at the situation. Slowly pulling herself up, through the foothills of pillows, she looked at the man she’d married with the same calculating eyes she’d lain upon everyone else.

Atlas was not a bad man, exactly. He was no fairytale villain, despite the role he would play in her life, despite the fact he was a kind of pretty that made Cecile feel guilty to look at him. She looked away, forgetting last night, and slipping out of bed. In spite of her attempts not to wake him, came the creaking of his yawn, and languid movements. Like a cat in a favorite patch of sun, he writhed around, before pulling himself up and twisting to face her. It unnerved her, how he twisted; he twisted too far to be comfortable, she thought. It shouldn’t be so easy for him to move like that. His eyes settled upon her, and she thought of the mouse she saw yesterday running from a cat. Idly, she wondered if her sister Adalaide had been right.

“Good morning, My Jewel,” he sang, in low notes, in a creaking and tired voice. A sharp-toothed smile settled upon his face, as he laced his fingers together and twisted around again, now onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hands.

Realizing she had held still, watching him, Cecile made her way to her vanity, picking up a comb. “Husband,” she said, getting used to the sound of it, “Good morning.” 

He chuckled at that, swinging his body around, and pulling his body out of bed.”Are you well? How did you sleep?” he murmured, looking at her in much the same way she had when she’d first awoken.

 In the morning light, Cecile had a much better look at the rest of him, and not just his fey features, and once again was unsettled. Thin enough to see his ribs, and- She glanced away, feeling her face heat. Through her hair, the comb ran. “I am well enough,” Even to her own ears, she sounded dispassionate, “I slept well.” 

Atlas nodded, dressing himself in handsome sepia monochrome; a wellfit waistcoat, paler button down, and trousers neatly tailored to his gaunt form. Silence hung in the air, as if he wasn’t sure of what to do now. Now that they were married, there was nothing but fear to stop them. Atlas didn’t break the silence, but he did break the stillness with sudden movement. He took the ruby, and took to his wife. 

She moved back, instinctively, yelping as she crashed into the vanity. It wobbled, the mirror threatening to tip in its fastenings, and a thankfully-closed small pot of some salve or lotion jumping to the hardwood floor. It sustained but a crack. From downstairs, a tea kettle whistled.  Atlas’s mask melted, eyes widening, lips twitching down into concern. At the same time, Cecile swept downward, picking up the jar, setting it firmly down in its place. The comb in her hair was forgotten, as she clicked into the proud stance she walked the streets with. Even in her nightclothes, at her average stature, it– Would have been intimidating, had Atlas been anyone else. The worried man let the ruby weigh down his pocket, as he backed up.  

“Adalaide is waiting downstairs,” he soothed, hoping to rid her of this fear. They both knew they had such a short amount of time to get what they wanted; Cecile’s eternal life. It had been the reason for their marriage! Cecile took an unsteady breath, and sharply nodded. Yes, her sister was right downstairs. Her sister, who had sworn this would make her grave. Who’d possessed but for a time the Ruby that would weigh her soul down. 

Atlas made his way downstairs. Through the hall, leaving Cecile alone to dress. The halls were gorgeous, and a painting he had commissioned of them both hung outside their bedroom. Light as air, his footsteps barely made noise as he padded down the spiral staircase. Padded into the room to go meet his new sister-in-law, who happened to be brewing some almond tea.  

Unbeknownst to Cecile, as she pulled her hair into a half chignon, the laughter she heard floating up the well was not indicative of joy. It was one of amusement, surely, and she smiled about that, picking up a red vial, ignoring the strands of silver. No, she could not hear the precise words, but she could hear her husband’s voice cut clear, as she buttoned up her blouse. He sounded calm. She could not hear her sister. Had she, she might have then known just how dire the situation was.

Adorned in her fine dress, Cecile made her way down the staircase. She lingered in front of the painting, her own painted lips twitching into a grin. It had been painted a week ago, the both of them in their wedding clothes. Cecile Gray and Atlas Fairchild. How long would the both of them look like that? Skin smooth and clear, mood bright. Though, she supposed, the artist hadn’t quite captured the glint of their eyes. Her own inky eyes were difficult to capture, she knew that, but Atlas’s tawny eyes shouldn’t’ve been nearly so difficult. She did not think of the gray she had seen in the mirror, the gray that was not in the portrait. Reminded of her goals, she turned away from the painting, and carried on down the stairs. 

As Cecile descended, she heard the conversation from the kitchen, and she ignored the ice suddenly shooting through her heart. 

“Really now,” came the playful and chiding voice of her husband. “Cyanide won’t do a thing, Ada dear.” 

“You’re a monster, Atlas,” followed her sister, sounding defeated. 

“Yes, you should have factored that in if you were going to poison me. Iron shavings, now, that would have worked.” 

Good god, Atlas was laughing. Cecile’s icy heart sped up, her feet following the pattern. Leaps and bounds down the stairs, railing clutched tightly, so that she mightn’t get tripped up by her skirts. 

Arriving in the kitchen, chest heaving with her heavy breathing, she was taken aback. There they stood: Atlas and Adalaide. Kitchen hardly out of sorts, but for the pot of water on the stove. Sister far more out of sorts; hair undone, her waistcoat rumpled, her unpainted lips twisted into an angry frown. Atlas was ruffling her bobbed hair, grin showing off those damnable sharp teeth. A bad idea, as Adalaide snatched his arm away, and was about to speak- before noting the presence of her younger sister. 

The young butch’s shoulders snapped back, hands moved to smooth her clothes. Which did nothing to hide the distinctly non-pocket watch bulge in one pocket.  Warmly, Adalaide turned to greet her sister.

“Good morning, Cece,” she sighed, the presence of her sister calming her.

Oh, that nickname hadn’t been used since childhood, and Cecile swallowed her discomfort. “Adalaide,” she returned. “Are you alright?” 

Ada’s hand cut through the air, as if to brush Cecile’s worries away. “Of course I am, I was simply having a discussion with,” a sharp glance toward Atlas, “him.” 

Bolstering this, Atlas cut in, “My darling sister-in-law was making us morning almond tea!” As if to drive in the point, or perhaps in sheer appreciation, he took a sip of the drink. “Why don’t you have a cup?” 

Her stomach turned, but she couldn’t find it in her to resist. She didn’t want to rile the situation up again, curious though she was. Stretching up to the cabinet, she fished out her favorite mug. God, this house must’ve been made for giants. Though, she supposed, given her husband’s height, it might have been. 

Morning ritual carried on; Adalaide picked the teapot up, pouring the tea into the mug. Cecile took a sip, the warmth spreading through her hands and throat. Ugh, she hated how easily it soothed her. Was it the tea, or the routine? Regardless, she did enjoy it. 

Getting away from the interloper, Adalaide bee-lined for the pantry, fetching a floral-print jar. Opening it, the kitchen filled with the scent of biscuits, and for just a moment, they might have been back home. Cecile could have thrown all of this away yesterday, instead of locking herself into this fate. Yes, this is how things were, there had to be no chance of running. There had to be no fear. This had to work, or- Well, it wouldn’t matter. 

Biscuits, tea, the morning ticked away. No eggs, no bacon, no oatmeal. Not even leftover wedding cake. The wedding had gone off without a hitch, aside from her sister’s attempt, once again, to convince her to hightail it. Even now, the kitchen door was within reach. Adalaide was right there. Atlas couldn’t catch them, could he? Where would she even go? Didn’t she want this? 

Thoughts interrupted by Atlas’s warm hand closing around her wrist. “We really must hurry along,” he urged. This close to her, touching her, her bones thrummed. All too aware of her beating heart, of that damnable ruby, Cecile finished off her tea, and the last bit of biscuit. Without meeting anyone’s eyes, she nodded. 

Leaving the kitchen, wrist-in-hand, they continued on. Unable to look at him, unable to face the way he loomed over her, she let her gaze fall upon the walls. They’d been painted green, had plenty of pictures hung upon them. She remembered how the man she married had been, when they hung them up. Portraits of family, of faraway woods, of a castle that looked fantastical. How masterful. They passed door after door in the corridor, which felt near endless, but at last? 

Atlas let go of her wrist, to graze his fingers over the lock of a door. “Open,” he suggested, voice stern. The lock obeyed with a click. Cecile chose not to think about it, as they started their way downstairs. Atlas went first, and he did not look back to ensure she followed. Once again, she made the choice to doom herself. Down the stairs, glow stones illuminated their path. Down, down, down. The air weighed on her, and she did not think of the scent of earth now filling that same air. Down, down, down.  

Atlas leaped over the last two steps, and offered his hands to help Cecile over those trick steps. She took them, and followed his same path. They’d done this many times, and though she could avoid the trap itself, the fact he was willing to catch her warmed her heart. Reassuring. Adalaide had to be wrong, he wouldn’t hurt her.  

To the center of the lab, they traveled. It was a strange place, though she’d become rather familiar with it over the time they’d discussed this. Strange machines snaked through the place, juxtaposed by a wooden box that made her hungry when she approached. In the center, however, was a chair, and this made her smile. It was not the chair she’d expected, but a beautiful carving- Leather straps were nailed into it, regardless. She’d have to take her place. Forcing herself forward, she did so. Seated, she took a deep breath, though she wanted to scream. 

Atlas was silent as he carried out his task; strapping her down to make sure she would not twitch as he did what he must. She thought she was used to how he felt, close to her, thought that she had grown used to his strangeness. No, though she would learn to in time.

“How’s that?” he asked, crouched down as he pulled the last strap tight and buckled it.

Shifting around, or attempting to, she answered. “Tight enough.”

“Perfect,” Atlas purred. What he did next shocked her; he kissed her on the cheek. Whether or not the following laughter was genuine or not, she could not have told you. What didn’t surprise her, however, was his steady hands unbuttoning her top, rolling up her sleeve.. The cool air was welcome on her skin, really, as distant as it had begun to feel. The faery took the ruby out of his pocket, dropping it into Cecile’s lap. The weight of it felt like hardly anything at all. Perhaps it was the power thrumming through the mage-scientist’s lab, perhaps it was simply her emotions overclocking themselves, but Cecile felt calm. 

Far too calm, she realized, as Atlas fetched a small tray, and wheeled a machine with odd tubes and dials and knobs. First, a towel was tucked into her shirt. Next, her skin was cleaned with some cold and foul smelling liquid. He paused, and picked up one needle, leaving the liquid to dry upon her chest. The needle made it’s way into her vein, a faint prickly sensation. Atlas picked up a shining black knife. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, but he did not hesitate. To hesitate would be to prolong her pain, she knew. Did she respond? Cecile wasn’t sure.

 Detached, floating, she watched his incision into her body. Pale skin opened up, and she noted how red her blood was travelling through the tubes of the machine, how cold it felt on her body. Atlas murmured something, perhaps a prayer. He allowed her to bleed, picking up some sort of strange scissors. Cold, she was so goddamn cold. He was letting that infernal machine take it from her, and he was letting the rest spill out! She hoped that she’d managed to say that out loud. He ignored her, carrying on as he must. 

“Close your eyes, my jewel,” he begged. 

She ignored him, far too fascinated with this strange procedure. Immortality would be hers. Head fixed into place, muscles twitching in their bonds, Atlas picked up the bone-cutters, and removed a section of ribcage. She fell lax, leather straps holding her up. Her last sight was of her husband’s fingers, holding a shiny red something, before the light in her eyes went out, her last thought petering out into nothing. 

What happened next, Cecile could not say with certainty, though later, she would be informed of it. How Atlas opened her heart up, and stole her soul. A  sliver of ruby sealed in her heart, a fiber of her heart sealed within the ruby. How her blood had been replaced. 

The morning after the resurrection, Cecile was pained, but pleased. Her new husband, who wrenched her from morality, slept beside her, her heartful ruby glinting on the nightstand. She had awoken in his arms. Alive. That was good. The air smelled of iron. Hunger clawed at her stomach, and she had no shirt, though both were better than death. As she rose this time, however, her exhausted husband slept on. No morning confrontation, no sound of a tea kettle. Nothing but Cecile and her mirror. 

Cecile peered into the looking glass. The wound from yesterday had been stitched up carefully, and the redness of her skin made the rest of her look paler than usual. Atlas must have removed her makeup, as she could see each imperfection, the fever flush of her cheeks. Leaning in closer, Cecile analyzed herself. And pulled out a gray hair. Perfect, everything was perfect. She had what she wanted. Opening a jar with a hairline crack, she spread a healing salve over her wound. 

Cecile tugged on a shirt, and clambered down the stairs. Silence filled her home. 

A note with water splotches was left on the counter, magnet holding it to a teapot. 

Goodbye, Cecile. I love you, but you gave your life away yesterday. I cannot, in good conscience, watch you destroy yourself. I love you, farewell. - Ada

Oh. 

Oh. 

No, this was silly. She’d come back, wouldn’t she?  Her big sister would return, and maybe yell at her, wouldn’t she?

No. No, not this time. No, this was the real price for her immortality. Unwilling to touch the note, she made herself no tea, did not fetch yesterday’s from the icebox.

Cecile went back upstairs, regarding the portrait once more. She would look like that forever, or, once her skin cleared. Would Atlas?

 Atlas was asleep, and Cecile was alone.

[vegetarian-macan]

2020 New Year Shop Lines

The New Year is upon us, and like the past two Housamo New Years Events with Agyo in 2018 and Gullinbursti in 2019, this event features a character closely associated with the 2020 Chinese Zodiac Animal: The Rat. 

This year does not feature a new character, but rather has Algernon, the cyborg at the end of Chapter 8 and in the middle parts of Chapter 9, representing. Though an odd choice on the surface, Algernon’s lore is based on the book Flowers For Algernon written by Daniel Keyes. The main characters is closely associated with a mouse, making Algernon the best choice for this New Year Event.

The lines are below the cut to save space. Enjoy!

Agyo:

Greeting: Wow! Look how crowded it’s gotten! Eh? You mean they’re just coming for the new year? Hrmm…well, it’s still nice to see the shrine so lively!

Conversation: Of course I love cleaning. It feels so satisfying! Plus, check this out: a vacuum cleaner! I could’ve kept the entire Land of Wa spick and span with this!

Conversation 2: Hey, have you seen any other nice-looking guardian dogs around? It’s kinda tough to do this job on my own-wha?! I didn’t mean that kind of nice-looking! You’re so embarrassing!

Concerned: Hey, what’s wrong? How come you look all grumpy?It’s great that you’re giving your best, but don’t forget to smile. Otherwise, you’ll turn to stone! That’s what Grandpa says.

About Event: Since time immemorial, guardian dogs have fought against evil. That’s why we have to…have to, um….What was it Grandpa always used to say again?

About Himself: I know I’ve got a long way to go, but someday, I wanna be a super awesome guardian dog, like Grandpa! I mean, um, like my grandfather!

About Kotaro: Hey, have you seen Kotaro? Amazing, right? How can someone even smaller than me be so cool and reliable? I wanna be just like-eh? What do you mean, I’ve got him all wrong?

About His Grandfather: Grandpa’s really awesome, you know! He’s hardworking, and smart, and super strong too! He’d score a thousand Guardian Points, easy!

Moritaka:

Greeting: Ah, the cool, crisp taste of winter air! Does it not make you feel ready to face the new year? Come, our New Year’s Day training awaits!

Conversation: We must make our new year’s prayers and resolutions! What will you hope for, I wonder? Myself? I wish for health and happiness for all!

Touched: Ah! Please refrain from patting my head! I am a proud warrior, not some puppy! Such treatment is humi…il…mmm….

About Himself: We used to celebrate the new year in the Land of Wa too! I played games, ate rice cakes, ran with Yoshiro along the riverbank…ah, precious memories. A part of me misses those days.

About Hakkenshi: I have a very important meeting to attend! Cu Sith will be there, and Garmr, and Xolotl, and…is that Fenrir over there, hiding behind the postbox?

About Event: Perhaps it is bad luck to start the new year with another incident. Or perhaps we have rid ourselves of bad luck by resolving it…? Hmm…. Thinking of it that way makes me feel a little bit better.

About Agyo:  I hear Agyo is from the Land of Wa, like me! But where could Ungyo have gotten to, I wonder? It would be nice if we could help out somehow.

Gullinbursti:

Greeting: A magnificent victory as always, Master. You have made this boar proud. What? But what else should I call you, Master?

Conversation: This firm body and this soft fur were both forged to serve you. It is only right that I should be ready to lay down my life for you. What? Too hard on myself? Not at all, Master. I am quite fluffy.

Conversation 2: Why do I not look like a boar, you ask? I see. So that would have been your preference. Perhaps it is not too late to ask my creators for some modifications.

Touched: I do not know what interest you could have in my body. It is an artificial thing, a false thing. However, everywhere you touch feels strangely warm. Master, this emotion…it confuses me.

Concerned: It seems there is something wrong, Master. I will not presume to ask the details, but…would it be too much to ask to stay by your side?

About Himself: Others around me were always cold to me. Whether that is because I am something forged, I do not know. However, there was one alone who treated me with kindness. I wish we could meet again, even if just one last time.

About Unknown, (Moritaka or Agyo most likely): I will not yield my role as your protector to anyone, no matter what. No matter how fluffy they may be…no matter what.

About Freyr (?): I, Gullinbursti, was forged for one purpose and one purpose alone: to serve my master. If only I were stronger, more tempered, then perhaps….

About Ganglie/Gouryou: Just what is that thing? Lazy, obese, good-for-nothing…but then, is that not the true nature of the boar? No, I must not think too hard on this. I am beginning to question myself.

Ganglie/Gouryou:

Greeting: Well, look at you, all raring to go and greet the new year. Ugh, just watching you’s makin’ me feel sick.

Conversation: Early-morning training? In the cold? Are you crazy? Sometimes, it’s pretty hard to believe we even speak the same language. Go on, get lost. Whatever crazy you’ve got, I don’t wanna catch it.

Conversation 2: Spring cleaning? Gimme a break here. Do I look like a nine-to-five pig to you? I work maybe one day a year, and it ain’t gonna be today.

Conversation 3: Huh? What’s that? Feelin’ a little lonely? No problem! You can snuggle up to me real close! Hey, now just hang on a…gyah! Cold!

Touched: And a happy new year to you too! Heheheh! C’mon, don’t look at me like that! Whaddaya say we both curl up next to the heater?

Concerned: You never get a break, huh? Even on New Year’s. Y’know, I never had any luck back in the old days, either. Why don’t I tell you all about it tonight?

About Event 1: Gotta love Ne Year’s! Heheheh! I get to eat, sleep and laze around, and no one can say a thing!

About Event 2: Brrr…it’s freezing! I can’t feel my face! Let’s finish this shrine visit, get back home, and get some stew in us before I turn into a pigsicle!

About the Gurus (his fellow guildmates?): If anyone comes round looking for me, tell ‘em I’m not in. The Gurus’ve been getting aggressive about calling in help recen-gyah! They’re here! I’m counting on you, alright?

Algernon:

(Italics is the Helmet (Algernon) and normal font is Charlie)

Greeting: Nice job! We’ll just take those for you. We’ve got some nice goodies lined up, eh, buddy? Indeed. Hard work deserves just reward.

Conversation 1: They say you finish the year in the same way you start it. If so, we think you’ve got a great year ahead of you! Superstition from you, mouse? Hm. Perhaps that’s not so bad in our business.

Conversation 2: Ah, nothing like a little spring cleaning! A tidy house means a tidy mind! Hm. So even you can be correct sometimes, mouse.

Touched: Guess the tailor makes the mouse and the man! A new outfit really blows the cobwebs away, don’tcha think? Hmm. Perhaps, I admit, new clothes do feel…nice.

Concerned: Hey now, don’t push yourself too hard! Take a break once in a while. It’s New Year’s, remember! Leave the Summoner alone. Some find comfort in hard work.

About Agyo: I have never seen such shoddy cleaning! Fetch me my broom! This cannot stand! Ha! You gotta learn to chill out a little, buddy!

About Themselves: How long’s it been since we last kicked back on New Year’s Day? I guess we’ve just gotten too busy to celebrate. Perhaps so. How easy it is, to sink into a mindless routine….

About Event:  Wahoo, Year of the Rat! Looks like it’s gonna be our year! Hey, buddy, what’re we gonna do if we get too popular? They call, and we deliver, like always. It’s just business.

[lnkhauler]

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[akirebubar]

Wheeee! I just finished the new business card & emailed it to the printer. I can't wait to see it all shiny and DONE! Business cards are so exciting. I should, like, be more social so that I actually hand more of them out. 😜

AND I got a new patron tonight, wahoo! I'm finally out of the single digits! Folks, if you enjoy seeing my art and writing in your tumblr feed, please consider becoming a patron. Just the software I use is $52/month - and thanks to folks like you on Patreon, this huge expense is *almost* all covered. Can you help me get all the way there? After that, I'm looking to fund a bunch of exciting projects (coloring books! comics! notecards!), as well as, you know, funding myself so I can pay my bills once again. Just $1 or $2 a month makes a huge difference to me.

Hugs to all who want them. It's a good night. Now, time to feed the rat and hit the hay. 😊

#art #illustration #Patreon #SupportArtists #DisabledArtist #HappyArt

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A photo of an ink and watercolor illustration. A brown owl soars over grass and a purple flower, clutching a skateboard in his orange toes. A second owl swoops down from higher above. The sky in the background is luminous yellow above the grass, and deeper blue above that. There is a bright orange and red oak leaf on the left side of the drawing, and an ant standing on a blade of grass and watching the owls and the sky on the very far left. On the bottom right is a mouse in red quad rollerskates is fleeing the owls.]

[i-rate-horse-games]

starshine legacy playthrough part 2.5

Level 6 - the dam

heheh

ooh this time i’m spotting ahead of time the horse-accessible ramps that we’ll probably use to sprint out of here after our crime is committed

imagine another CD-rom game following the goon joining the bad guys just to leave super important objects on the ground for the kid detectives nearby

i’ve only just now figured out you can turn around the camera with the right click :( my mouse has been on the fritz…

argh my mouse stopped working again so i switched to touchpad and accidentally swiped the back button while trying to change the camera angle like you would if it were a touchscreen. rip. here we go again

meteor carries the Common Sense braincell

augh !! she disarmed the bomb just a few seconds before it was about to go off!! that’s scary!!!

level 7 - the day of the competition

oh so do all the chapters end with the competition? i like that lol it’s as if this were a vampire hunting game except after defeating the final boss they have to go to highschool and take an exam and that’s the REAL final boss. those poor kids

ah rats i failed by .73 seconds

talk to me lisa give me your sage horse racing wisdom

…okay that time i got 1:40:35 and i need to get under 1:20 seconds. that was with me trying extra hard not to make any mistakes, and i’m not sure what i’m doing wrong… i didn’t see any poles fall…

1:32… i thought maybe it was that i wasn’t in the center of the jumps, but maybe not…

1:22 almost there

1:30 i’m gonna be here for a while

1:30 :///

meteor may be the best jumper ever but I Certainly Am Not

1:49 i was gonna say “they call it level 7 because it takes you 7 tries” but 

OH COME ON THAT SHOULD COUNT !!! 

wahoo!!! i was jumping too late!

the game is drawing me in with its great music … this music is going to get stuck in my head randomly and i’ll think “where was that from again? pixie hollow? …ah, no, it was the horse game.” it’s making me want to play star stable online again. very beautiful very powerful

part 3

[lnkjanitors]

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CONTACT US: LNK Janitorial Services CALL: CALL (402) 875-7346 JANITORIAL SERVICES CALL: CALL (402) 590 8090 JUNK REMOVAL CALL: CALL (402) 881 3135 CLEANING CALL: CALL (402) 875 7305 HANYDMAN CALL: CALL (402) 590 8095 MOVING WEBSITE: www.cleaningserviceslincoln.org http://www.servicelincoln.com/ http://www.lincolnhouseholdservices.com/ SERVICE AREA: Lincoln Nebraska Metro Area: Bennet Ne, Firth Ne, Hallam Ne, Hickman Ne, Lancaster County, Lincoln Nebraska, Malcolm Ne, Milford Ne, Panama Ne, Seward County, Seward Ne, Staplehurst Ne, Utica Ne, Walton Ne, WAVERLY NE, Lincoln NE | Lincoln NE | Lancaster County NE | Seward County NE | Milford NE | 68501, 68510, 68512, 68514, 68516, 68517, 68520, 68524, 68526, 68529, 68531, 68532, 68542, 68544, 68583, 68588.Omaha-Council Bluffs Metropolitan Area: Downtown Omaha, Central Omaha, Southwest Lincoln and Sarpy County, including the communities of Lincoln, Omaha, Bellevue, Blair, Carter Lake, Elkhorn, Fort Calhoun, Fremont, Gretna, La Vista, Millard, Papillion, Ralston, Springfield, Plattsmouth, Arlington, Ashland, Louisville, Wahoo, Yutan and Waterloo, NE, and Missouri Valley, Avoca, Glenwood, Council Bluffs, IA. Zip codes: 68007, 68010, 68022, 68102, 68104, 68105, 68106, 68107, 68108, 68110, 68111, 68112, 68114, 68116, 68117, 68118, 68122, 68124, 68127, 68130, 68131, 68132, 68134, 68135, 68137, 68142, 68144, 68147, 68152, 68154, 68157, 68164, 68178. #cleaning #Lincoln #nebaraska #junk #moving #Janitorial #handyman