#my phone is so Weird its so. its so phone

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: Mentions of family death

A/N: I love Matt but I hate Matt but like ???

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P8: Don't

wc: 2400+

Part of me is begging for Matt to walk in through that door—tear me away from this horrid tension as Chris stares down at me with his arms crossed over his chest. But he doesn’t. The door stays deathly still, the entire room falling into an uncomfortable silence as I sit up straighter on the couch. 

“Why’re you in my house, hm?” he questions, cocking an eyebrow at me as he stalks closer. He lazily plops down on the opposite side of the couch, petting Trevor as the dog curls into a ball between us, “-and why’re you telling my dog you need to piss?” 

“Why are you eavesdropping?” I huff, shaking my head and keeping my eyes set infront of me while standing up and walking down to the bathroom.

How long was he standing there? 

What did he hear? 

I do my business quickly. I take a deep breath, sighing and looking at my reflection in the mirror. God, I look tired—drained, even. 

Walking back into the living room, I see Chris nearly completely sprawled out on the couch. His arm crossed beneath his head, his legs extended but slightly bent—leaving the smallest amount of room for me to sit back down. 

“Trev went to keep my dad company,” he says. I nod while sitting stiffly in the open space. Of course he had to sprawl out—make this entire situation even more uncomfortable. 

“-and, I wasn’t eavesdropping. It’s hard not to hear when you’re yapping so damn loud. In my house, with my dad. Fuckin’ weird if you ask me.” 

His tone is almost bitter—a certain sharpness to his words that felt a little different than his usual insults or remarks. 

“Shut up, Chris,” I breathe, rolling my eyes as I stare around the living room. The only light seeping in through the curtain is that damn streetlight—flickering and blinking on the verge of its life. 

What’s taking Matt so long? 

“Hey, don’t take your shitty date out on me, I didn’t do anything–”

“Really?” I cut off, staring at him with squinted eyes. 

Chris shrugs, his tongue prodding from the inside of his cheek. “Sorry. I guess I’m just upset that you’re in my house, talking to my dad. Don’t you have anyone else to talk to?” he snorts. 

As his eyes gaze into mine, I feel my face fall. “Not really.” 

The statement makes his glare soften to an unreadable expression. He clears his throat, adjusting and sitting up further. He almost looks… sorry?

“Do you know when Matt will be back?” I ask, tapping my foot on the floor as I look towards the front door. 

“I have his location, but my phone is in my room,” Chris announces, his eyes glazed over while he stares at his lap. 

My hands rub together as I hesitantly look over at him. “Can we… can we go look, maybe?” I offer.

Chris nods, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he nudges his head for me to follow. I get up, following his steps as we make the familiar path towards his room, my feet stumbling to a halt as I hover in the doorway. 

He rummages towards his nightstand, holding up his phone attached to a charger. His face creases as he looks over at me. “It’s dead. You can, uh—you can sit if you want to.” 

I hesitantly shift further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed while looking towards my hands. I can feel the rummaging thoughts piling over top of one another, the sensation of panic settling in as the silence consumes the room. 

“Why do you look so nervous, damn,” he laughs, sitting down on his bed with his back resting against the headboard.

I shrug, sucking my lips between my teeth while briefly shaking my head. “Because,” I trail off, sighing as I feel him stare at me, waiting for a response, “-you’re just… I don’t know—you, ugh.” 

Chris shifts, his feet tapping on the floor as he sits on the edge of the bed next to me. “I’m just what?” he taunts. 

My mouth opens to respond, but my face tilts as I see a bright illumination from his phone screen—not the display when the device wakes up after being dead. 

“I thought your phone was dead?” I question. His eyes bulge. He shakes his head, leaning over and turning the device face down. What the fuck? “What am I in here, Chris? What—what games are you playing now?” 

Chris scratches the back of his neck. His eyes wander everywhere around the room, avoiding my gaze at all cost. 

“Whatever,” I huff, starting to stand up. 

My actions are halted by a warm hand landing over my thigh. I look down, seeing his fingers spread with a rough grip, softening as he sighs. “I—just—fuck,” he curses, removing his hand as if it had been burned. 

The thump of my pulse gets quieter. I analyze his face, watching as his jaw clicks tighter. Some part of me seems to soften. I reach out, hesitating as I hold my hand above his shoulder before laying it gently on him. 

“What’s going on? I’m not mad, I’m just…” I shake my head, looking into his eyes as I try to take a deep breath, “-confused.” 

Chris licks over his lips, his hand rubbing over his face as he slumps down and stares at his lap. “I… I wanted to, um—well, I—fuck, this is so hard,” he hisses. 

I watch as he tugs at the roots of his hair, hunching over and placing his elbows on his knees. I let my hand slide down, gently rubbing on his back. He’s been a real dick, but something about him makes everything seem so hazy, like I can never really tell what his true intentions are. 

He was hurt—brutally hurt. And I could understand that more than I wanted to. I knew how it felt to lose someone and have everything change. 

“I don’t know how to even explain—”

“Then don’t,” I interrupt. 

Chris stares at me over his shoulder. His lips press into a thin line, his eyes squinting as if he’s in pain. “Why are you not mad?” he asks. 

I shrug. My eyes drift to his window before tracing back to his face. “I can see you’re trying. Even though whatever is going on seems hard for you… you’re trying,” I answer. 

“Not hard enough,” he snorts, sitting up. 

My hand falls from his back. I hesitantly place it back into my lap, staring at my fingers as I nervously fiddle with them. “Maybe ‘cause you’re not giving yourself any credit.” 

The pointed statement seems to make the silence sink in once more, but this time, it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels calm—peaceful, even. Like he’s letting my words wash over him. 

He lets himself hunch over once more, his hands knotting through his hair aggressively. I wince hearing him hiss as his fingers get stuck in a tangle, my hands shooting up before I can stop myself. 

“What are you doing—”

Chris falls silent, uncomfortably tilting his head as I try to drift my fingers through the knot. “Just let me help.” 

The hair is stubborn. It probably wouldn’t be so knotted if he wasn’t yanking at it so harshly.

“Just…” I huff, “-just lay down. It’ll be easier.” 

He goes stiff, slowly relaxing as his head falls into my lap. I slowly start from the bottom of the knot, working my way towards his scalp. His hair is soft despite the tangle. 

“Chris?” I whisper, my hands clutching towards my chest as I wait for him to move.

But he doesn’t. The only movement is his shoulders sliding up and down with deep breaths. He’s asleep—his head cradled in my lap as I sit on the edge of the bed. 

My eyes start to droop, my hands guiding back into his hair as I brush through the soft strands. Every breath starts to get deeper. I feel myself leaning forward and to the side, crossing my free arm under my head as I rest on his shoulder. 

I like this side of him. I just wish I got to see it more. 

___

“-wake up, c’mon,” 

Peeping one eye open, I see Matt standing in front of me, his hand gently shaking my shoulder. I look down to see Chris in the same position. 

“I’ll take you home, sorry,” Matt whispers, nudging his head towards the door as he walks out. 

What time is it even? 

My body shifts slowly as I move him to lay on the bed. A frown crawls on my face as I watch Chris’s face furrow, his hands grasping onto the sheets as if he’s looking for something. 

I reach out, petting my hand over his cheek and watching him relax once more. His lips puff open with a subtle snore. Hazily, I stand up, analyzing his face as I creep backward. 

“Ready?” Matt asks, looking up from his phone with a shit-eating grin. 

I nod, squinting my eyes with a smile as I wiggle my brows. He blushes, tucking his phone back in his pocket before stalking further with quiet steps. 

As soon as we step out the door, he hands me his phone. I look down at the screen, my eyes going wide as a smile covers my face. It’s a picture—him and Mia, her lips pecking his cheek as he smiles towards the camera. She seems to be holding the phone, her nose crinkled upward and smushed against his cheek. 

That’s adorable. 

“Oh my god! See—you didn’t need me,” I laugh, slapping his phone back into his chest. 

Matt slips the device back into his pocket, walking by my side as we stroll down the path back to my house. “I know, but—thank you. I know you didn’t exactly wanna go,” he remarks. 

Do I tell him? I had already vented to Jimmy. There was no point in spoiling his night with my shitty experience. 

“Is this why you woke me up? Wanted to brag, hm?” I taunt, bumping into his shoulder playfully. 

The quiet neighborhood is deathly calm, but I can feel his excitement radiating off his energy. He’s so giddy—it’s relieving. 

At least it was worth that dumb fucking date.

“I did wanna tell you, I’m not gonna lie,” he mentions, laughing as we turn down the corner to my street, “-but, I also wanted to make sure you got home and your mom wouldn’t be mad or anything, I guess. Or that you wouldn’t have to spend the night with fuckin’ Chris again.”

The scoff in his tone pokes at something in my chest, a sharp sensation flooding over me as I mutter beneath my breath, “It’s not like it’s bad. He was actually being—”

“Don’t.” Matt says. 

My steps halt on the pavement. I look up to Matt, watching him stop and stare back at me with a sigh falling from his lips. 

“Look,” he starts, tugging on my sleeve as we continue walking again, “-I’m saying this as your friend. Chris… he’s not ready for this type of stuff. You—you’re only gonna end up hurt, okay? Just… don’t.” 

Oh. 

My tired eyes flutter with fast blinks. Maybe it was the exhaustion—maybe it was because the air felt too cold blowing into my eyes, but I could feel the heat rush upward, my vision becoming blurry as I blink away tears.

“I’m not… I—I don’t know what’s going on. He just seems so…”

“Lost? Lonely?” Matt fills in. 

I nod, pulling at my clothes as my nose starts to twitch from the cold wind. 

“Chris… he just—he hasn’t coped well, you know? Losing our mom was hard, but our brother–-Nick—that… he can’t look at me anymore. He can barely look at himself,” Matt sighs. 

The lump in my throat is uncomfortable. I swallow thickly, wincing as I feel it glide down into my chest and create a distracting pressure. “I’m confused. What do you—what do you mean?” I ask. 

I feel the energy shift before any words escape his mouth. Everything seems to get eerily quiet, the comforting silence gaining tension as curiosity rings through the air. 

“Nick, our brother. We, um—we’re triplets, or… were? I just… Chris was the most dependant, “ he huffs, laughing dryly, “He was the only one to never be away from one of us for 24 hours, the kid literally couldn’t go a day without saying goodnight to both of us and—”

Matt chokes up on his words. He sniffles, shaking his head furiously while looking down at his feet as we walk slower. “I thought he’d rely on me after everything. But, we’re triplets—identical. He—he couldn’t even look at me without—” 

I place my hand on his shoulder as his sentence falls flat. Matt takes a deep breath, sighing as he places his hand over mine, pulling it towards his chest while holding it tightly. 

“Listen to me,” my ears perk at his words, his eyes looking into mine with raw emotion, “-don’t. He’s not ready, he’s…”

“I get it,” I interrupt, watching as Matt nods, slowly dropping my hand. He stays put as I walk up the two cement stairs to the entrance of my house. 

I pull out my keys, inserting them slowly into the keyhole of my front door, gently pushing it open before giving him one last look over my shoulder. “Thanks,” I mouth, trying to be as silent as possible as I hear the dark home echo with the slightest whisper. 

“Thank you,” he whispers back, nodding affirmatively before turning on the heel of his shoe, walking away as I shut the door. 

It shouldn’t hurt. Chris was more mean to me than anything else. In fact, I’d never even had him truly apologize—not with his words. 

But I didn’t really crave an apology.

I just want to understand.

[taeyongdoyoung]

beg for you

summary: missing your ex, you stumble upon an interesting song that brings back memories you thought you could bottle up... pairing: vernon x reader genre: angst, smut, exes to online friends to lovers warnings: mentions of past break-up, reader felt neglected and lonely, insecurities, lowkey catfishing+lie by omission, swearing, song-writing themes, some serious talks, hand-holding, kissing, spitting, eating out, fingering, dom!vernon, orgasm denial, public unprotected sex (in a café bathroom), mainly lots of emotions, idk author's note: the fic was inspired by this iconic song, in particular vernon's verse and it has some occasional references to the lyrics in bold word count: 2.6k

It's been three months since you ended things with Vernon, blocked his number and all his socials and tried your best to forget about him. The reason for your break-up was mainly because you felt like he never had time for you, his music always came first and while that was appealing at the start of your relationship, it began to infuriate you and make you feel invisible towards its end. He would stand you up and forget about your dates more than once. He would make you feel like you were always his second choice. Not being around him hurts like hell, because you'd become so used to his presence that the lack of it brings so much emptiness. And also because a part of you still loves him.

One evening, you can't fall asleep so you're scrolling through some music apps. Suddenly you discover a new song. The artist hides their face behind a mask but their voice sounds somewhat familiar. Strangely enough, the lyrics just speak to you:

I don't think I'll ever feel this type of way again (This way again; Yеah, uh, yeah) I beg for you, please (Don't let go), don't let go of me, don't let go of me All the endless conversations about us been going on in our head In the night, we dream a future together and I feel bad in your bed I beg for you, please stay, I can't go a day without No, I can't go a day without you, hoo

So weird. It's like the artist knows exactly what's been on your mind for the past three months. You shut your phone off with a sigh and attempt to get some sleep. The next day, that same melody and those words haunt you. And the following day…It goes on for a while and you've become so obsessed with it that you try to do some research on the artist. Unfortunately, it's not of much help. Nobody knows the identity of the artist, how they look or their real name. It's frustrating but it is what it is. Maybe you should drop it. But then again…you really can't stop thinking about these fucking lyrics and how well they described how you've been feeling.

You decide to do something stupid and slide into the DMs of the anonymous artist. They'll probably never see this message as they have thousands of followers, but still, you need to get this off your chest somehow.

You: Hi, you probably get this a lot but your lyrics are really relatable, like they truly spoke to me and totally represent the way I've been feeling for the past three months. You're incredibly talented and I'd be happy to hear more of your music in the future.

It's a short message, nothing too crazy. You feel a sense of relief once you've sent it. You realize it doesn't matter if the artist ever sees it. You're just happy you were able to express your feelings.

To your immense shock, about 30 minutes later, you receive a notification. This is actually so insane you can't believe your eyes. The anonymous artist…texted you back?!

RevN98: Hi, this really means a lot to me. Actually, I don't get a lot of feedback, as I'm just starting out. I'll try my best to write more music. In what ways did you relate to the lyrics?

Is he seriously…initiating a discussion? It is wild enough he texted you back but the fact he wants to continue texting baffles you. But you are not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. So, you respond rightaway.

You: I got out of a long-term relationship a couple of months ago and even though I should probably move on already, some part of me wishes my ex begged for me to stay. I know it's probably a selfish thought, considering I'm the one who broke up with the guy, but…I miss him sometimes and I keep thinking of a universe in which he'd fought for me.

After sending that message, you look at it in horror as you realize how personal it was. Why is it so easy to open up to a complete stranger? And not to people who actually know you…

You: Sorry, that was probably a whole bunch of TMI. Anyways, I really thought your lyrics were connected to how I was feeling if that makes sense.

You double text just in case. The response from the mysterious artist comes soon after.

RevN98: It makes sense, yeah. When I was writing them, I was also thinking about my past relationship. Honestly, I kind of wish I'd begged my ex to stay. I thought that by not doing so, I was respecting her wishes and giving her space. But now that it's been a while, I can't help but think I should have expressed myself better. I really miss her, though, so I guess that got reflected in the lyrics somehow.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts and figure out what to text.

You: Aw, man. Whoever your ex is, she's lucky to have such lyrics written about her. Even if it's over, maybe there's a way she finds your music and…I don't know, reconsiders things?

RevN98: Hah, that'd be a dream come true. I don't think she likes the kind of music I make.

You: Why not? Your music is great!

RevN98: Well, the truth is I was spending more time on my music than time with her. So, I guess that's one of the reasons for our break-up.

My God. This feels…too similar to your situation it gives you goosebumps. Despite that, it's like your fingers are possessed as they keep itching to text the anonymous artist back.

You: Time changes the way people feel. Maybe if you're honest with her and how you're feeling, there's a chance for a reconciliation. Or at least some closer. You should call her!

RevN98: I'd love that but she's blocked my number.

You: Use a friend's phone, duh!

RevN98: That'd be suspicious, considering I haven't told any of my friends about our break-up.

You: Dang…you're really not over this girl, huh?

RevN98: Not a chance.

You: So…what are you going to do?

RevN98: I don't know, for the time being texting you helps to ease the pain.

You: Likewise. But just to give you a heads-up, I'm not interested in any rebound relationship.

RevN98: Great. I'm not interested in that, either.

You: So…online buddies, then?

RevN98: Sounds good to me.

It is so strange how quickly the mysterious artist becomes part of your everyday life. You text each other quite often about anything. From what you've had for breakfast to what other music you've been listening to. From where you're planning to go with your friends to…how much you miss your exes. It is truly extraordinarily easy to talk to them. You still don't know much. How they look, what their real name is, where they live…But somehow it's enough knowing they're out there making awesome and relatable music.

Until one day it isn't.

You: We should meet up!

RevN98: I don't think that is a good idea…My schedule's crazy lately.

You: What do you mean? It's not like you have live performances.

You point out the obvious because from what you've gathered, maintaining this anonymity is key to RevN98.

RevN98: I just don't feel comfortable meeting in person…

You: Are you worried I'd expose your identity? You know I'm not that kind of person, right?

RevN98: I'm not worried about that. It's hard to explain. It would make sense if we met up, which is exactly why we can't meet up.

You: I'm super confused right now. But you know how important honesty is to me. So, it's now or never, I guess. If you don't want to meet up in the near future, I don't think I want to continue being friends…

You wait a couple of minutes, to give them a chance to make a decision. Finally, the response comes.

RevN98: Okay, let's meet up.

They text you a time and place. And then you ask the crucial question.

You: How will I know it's you?

RevN98: Trust me, you'll know.

This is…so cryptic. You guess you'll just have to rely on the fact that there are a bunch of photos of you on your profile, so the musician would be able to recognize you first.

When you arrive at the small café, you look around nervously, waiting. Negative thoughts keep haunting your mind. What if they change their mind in the last minute and stand you up? What if they are disappointed upon meeting you and never want to text you again? What if you were too harsh by giving an ultimatum? What if-

So many scenarios and you failed to consider the one that truly matters.

What if…you run into your ex at said café? What are the fucking odds?!

"What are you doing here?" you ask Vernon, sounding a bit too rude. Better to be rude than to burst into tears or something more embarrassing.

"Waiting for you," Vernon replies simply.

"What are you talking about?" you blink in confusion. Until it clicks…No. Freaking. Way.

Vernon sighs and takes his phone out, showing you the texts between you and RevN98. And the only explanation is…fucking hell. He is RevN98.

"Please, tell me you're joking right now."

"I wish I was," Vernon looks down, feeling guilty.

"How could you do this to me?" you inquire, eyes welling up already. You feel so weak upon seeing him.

"What was I supposed to do? You had me blocked on everything."

"What, and writing me a song under a false name sounded like the greatest idea?" you snap at him.

"I just needed to talk to you again. Somehow."

"Why? What is there to say?"

"I miss you," Vernon murmurs.

"You lied to me," you insist stubbornly.

"Please come back to me," he keeps trying.

"It's too late…" you try to reject him gently.

"I'm begging you," Vernon really wants a second chance.

You shake your head, but your hands are already reaching for his. Desperate to hold them one more time, you lean closer.

"I'm not taking you back," you keep fighting it.

"Okay," he nods.

"We're just…gonna talk, yeah? Seems a waste of my great outfit to go back home."

"Okay," Vernon repeatss.

As the two of you sit down to have a chat, suddenly all of the unsaid words and undelivered messages bubble up to the surface.

"I should have fought for you. I mean it. Music is important to me but not as much as you. You are my muse, how could I go another day without you?"

"It seems you've been doing a great job writing music without me," you say bitterly.

"Oh, yeah?" Vernon raises his eyebrows cockily. "Well, I bet I can write even better if you're back in my life."

"I was too harsh," you admit. "I let my overthinking and insecurities get the worst of me. When I broke up with you, it seems I had forgotten how much I love music, too. I was so caught up in my own dark thoughts that I didn't matter to you that things escalated."

"You had a point," Vernon chuckles sadly. "I wasn't giving you the attention you needed. The attention you deserve. I was being selfish."

"I was selfish, too," you confess. "I shouldn't have made you feel like you needed to make a choice between me and music."

"I would pick you. For the record."

"Record is exactly what you'll be making," you tease him. "I'm serious. I need to hear more of what you've been working on."

"I'd love to show you. But there's something else I'd like to do first," Vernon smirks mischievously.

He grabs your hand and takes you to the café's bathroom. He pushes you inside a free booth and locks the door behind him. He kisses you under the bathroom lights eagerly, not wanting to let go ever again.

"Hey!" you chide him playfully. "I said I wasn't taking you back."

"Too bad. 'Cause I'm taking you," Vernon says assertively.

"You…you've changed," you blink in surprise.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vernon smiles and his palms dig into your lower back deliciously, as he kisses you again. "God, I missed this taste."

"You're insane," you laugh but you can't find it in you to deny it any longer. You want him so bad.

"Don't let go of me," he repeats the song's lyrics in your ear.

"I won't. As long as you promise the same," you ask.

Vernon doesn't say a word as he kneels in front of you. He picks up one of your legs and swings it over his shoulder as pulls your panties to the side. Suddenly, you're so grateful for your genius decision to wear a dress. He spits on your pussy and attacks your folds with his skilled tongue. You're already losing your mind over how good it feels, when suddenly, he pulls back.

You gasp in disappointment as your pleasure was so abruptly interrupted.

"Beg me," Vernon commands you easily. "Beg me to make you come."

"You're fucking insane," you refuse. You've always had a little bit of a brat in you.

Vernon, however, doesn't seem perturbed by your refusal to cooperate and sticks one finger inside you, teasing you slow enough to frustrate you but not fast enough to get you there. It hurts so sweetly you both hate and love it.

"Beg me," he repeats.

It would be so easy to do that. Just to get that sweet release…But the stubborn part of you is still stronger than the part of you that wants to come.

''Try harder," you grin cruelly.

Vernon is not one to back down from a challenge and unleashes his final weapon. He takes off his jeans and slides his hard cock inside you. Fuck. You'd forgotten how girthy he is.

"I missed you so much," he whispers in your ear. And his genuine words affect you more than his actions. And oh, how terribly you've missed him, too.

You hold on to the back of his neck, needing him for support. He keeps tormenting you, not moving a lot, just making you feel so full but so dissatisfied at the same time. You truly can't take it anymore.

"P-please, let me c-come," you beg for him hopelessly.

"There's my good girl," Vernon smiles proudly and adjusts his movements, adding pressure with his fingers so that you come in mere seconds.

"T-thank you, thank you," you chant, not knowing what demon possessed you to act this way.

"So polite," he laughs adorably and holds you close as he reaches his own high.

You don't want to let go of him ever again. But you're gonna have to, because you hear angry people who want to use the bathroom. Uh-oh.

You quickly try to clean each other up and rush outside, cheeks red with embarrassment.

You get a few weird looks from random people, but honestly, it doesn't matter. This felt too good.

"Sooo…" Vernon says once you've arrived at his chill but cozy apartment. "Does this mean you'll take me back?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Beg me nicely?" you suggest teasingly.

"Oh, you know I will," Vernon promises.

Bonus:

"Veeern, it's been hours, didn't you finish the song already?" you complain, desperate for his attention.

"Just five-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you warn him, though you don't really mean it. You're just playing around. You know he cares about you deeply. Perhaps more deeply that he lets on.

"Won't you wait another hour or two?" Vernon teases you back.

"You know what? I'd wait as long as it takes," you smile and put your lips on his lips.

The End

[facewithoutheart]

FYI Buck is absolutely not a fan of Bear. It’s not … he doesn’t do anything to Bear he just … glares at it sometimes when Eddie’s not looking. Makes a point to distract Eddie whenever his attention is on Bear. Gets a sinking feeling in his stomach when he catches Eddie kissing the stain on its forehead. Which happens. A lot.

“It’s weird Eddie keeps bringing Bear to work, right?” Buck asks Hen, who immediately storms into Bobby’s office and takes leave, “Until one of those two morons figures it out.”

Bobby’s not expecting her back anytime soon.

Finally, Eddie has had enough (Buck is nowhere near as subtle as he thinks he is; Eddie literally caught Buck tipping Bear over from where Eddie had him perched in his locker, grinning when Bear’s fluffy white head hits the metal). He grabs Bear out of Buck’s reach and holds Bear to his chest. “What is your deal?”

“W-what? I don’t have a deal. What are you talking about?” Buck’s full on stink-glaring the stupid bear.

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie groans. “Thank god Bear can’t play basketball; I don’t think my ankle can take another sprain.”

Finally, Buck’s eyes flick upward. “Huh?”

“You’re jealous of my damn stuffie, Buck.”

He scoffs. “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh yeah? Then what’s with that?” Eddie jerks his chin at the red bear with a Mexican flag on it, sitting with his tiny little head poking out from Buck’s duffel. “You mean to tell me Chris went to Pennsylvania and brought back your childhood toy, too?”

“Huh?” Buck frowns.

“Chris found Bear in my old bedroom back in El Paso and brought him. Said he looked lonely there, and then, he said,��� Eddie flushes, “he asked me to bring Bear to work, because he said I looked lonely, too. That’s it, okay? The whole story. Can you please get over yourself and whatever it is you’re doing with Bear 2.0 over there?”

Bear’s head flops over to one side, his gaze up at Buck tilted like he’s also asking, “What’s your problem?”

My problem is a damn stuffed bear, Buck thinks.

It’s possible he’s being a little ridiculous. “Oso,” he says.

“Oso?”

“That’s my bear’s name.”

Eddie nods. “Okay. Nice to meet you, Oso,” he says to the bear. He hopes that settles things.

It gets weirder.

Eddie starts finding Oso next to Bear in his locker when they come back from calls. One time he catches Buck putting Oso’s arm around Bear.

Eddie doesn’t say anything.

Hen does, eventually, come back. Buck catches her glaring at where he’s got Oso cradling Bear’s head in his tiny furry lap. Okay, yeah, it’s possible he’s gotten a little into this. Eddie still hasn’t said anything but sometimes he looks at how Oso and Bear are cuddling with this glint in his eyes.

Eventually, Hen throws a fit when Buck gives Oso a tiny little mustache.

“Oh my god,” she turns to Buck, “Eddie wants to gently kiss you on your birthmark,” then, Eddie, “and Buck wants to gently hold you whenever you feel lonely. You two are in love. In love!” she shouts.

She turns to Chim. “I don’t care if I lose the bet at this point; I’m going to lose my sanity if these two don’t fuck it out, missionary style while staring into each other’s eyes whispering how much they love one another. I’m a lesbian and what they are doing with those damn bears has been so much gayer than anything I��ve ever witnessed.”

Chim’s nodding. “Oh, yeah. No, I was giving myself one more shift before I locked all four of them in a supply closet and stated playing Careless Whisper on my phone. Slipping condoms under the door until one of them sends back a wrapper.”

“Gross,” Hen says.

Chim winces. “Not as gross as what I’m looking at, now.”

When she turns, she sees Buck lifting Oso’s right paw, making it gently caress the side of Bear’s face. Their black plastic noses make a tiny clicking sound as Eddie and Buck make their bears kiss.

Hen’s gonna request a transfer.

What if Eddie got a beanie baby for Christmas one year and it’s dumb because stuffed animals are for girls and Eddie’s the Man of the House but secretly he likes his little white bear with the heart on his chest. He cuts the tag off it and his mom yells at him because they’re supposed to be worth a lot of money someday but secretly Eddie’s glad he did it. If the bear isn’t worth anything but the joy he brings to Eddie then maybe he’ll get to keep it. He does, eventually, forget about the bear. Or, he puts him on a shelf when he enters high school because high school boys don’t sleep with toys and maybe there’s some nights he sees the bear on his shelf and he thinks it might be nice to hold him but he doesn’t.

The first time Shannon comes into his bedroom she immediately sees the bear. “Who’s this little guy?” she teases and Eddie gets irrationally angry seeing it in her hands. “My stupid sisters leaving their stupid toys in my room,” he says, grabbing it out of her hands and throwing it in his bedside trash can. He waits until she’s left to fish him out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” which is dumb, so dumb, that he’s apologizing to a doll, that he’s crying.

Eddie wants to bring the bear with him to Afghanistan but he doesn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to the bear, no matter what little comfort it might bring to Eddie.

When his mom gives Christopher a stuffed bear after his birth, Eddie stares at the way Chris hugs it to his chest and wonders what would ever make him tear the toy from Chris’s hands.

Chris finds the stuffed bear when he moves to El Paso. It’s weird, how he wants it to sit on his nightstand, but not as weird as the tight look his abuela gets when she sees it. “Where did you find that?” Chris shrugs. “Behind some books in the closet.” Chris becomes fascinated with the bear. He looks it up online. Valentino. There’s a little red stain over one eye, maybe someone spilled something on it. He sends a picture to Buck. “He kind of reminds me of you.” “Yeah, Superman! He does! How are you doing?????” Chris doesn’t reply.

When Chris is packing up his items to move back to LA, he doesn’t think about it when he throws the bear into his suitcase. He puts it on a shelf when he gets back home. Nothing else has changed about his room; his dad kept it exactly the way he left it, so the bear sticks out. “Where’d you get that?” His dad asks when he sees the bear, his hands are flinching into fists by his side. Chris’s breath picks up. “You can’t be mad at me for taking him. You obviously didn’t want him; you left him behind!” “I’m not mad,” Chris’s dad lies. “Yes, you are. You are!” “Okay! I’m a little mad!” “Why?!”

“Because he was mine!”

Eddie takes a breath. He looks at his son. He loves him so, so, so much. “Because he was mine,” Eddie says, “but I wasn’t … I never felt like I was allowed to have him.” This time, Chris’s question comes out softer, more earnest, “Why?”

It’s not easy to put into words all the ways the world has shaped Eddie into a form he barely recognizes, but he tries. For his son, he’ll always try. At the end, Chris walks over with the bear. He places it in his dad’s hands. “I think you need this more than I do.”

Eddie laughs and thumbs over where his sister spilled cherry koolaid on him the one time he let her play with Bear.

“He kind of looks like Buck, doesn’t he?”

Eddie holds Bear to his chest. He squeezes tightly.

“Yeah. He does.”

[gin-juice-tonic]

To make a long story still long but shorter than it was originally: I went to a lake with a trail today. You have to take the trail to get to the sandy "beaches", so I set out on it. Once I got to one of the beaches, I walked up to the water and try to take in the all majesty.

The majesty was quickly dispersed by seeing half of a dead fish on the sand. I think: "Oh, something must've been eating this and just left it here." I start to walk away from it only to notice 3 more dead fish, which registers as "definitely weird" this time. I do a scan of the area and realize the entire shoreline is littered with dead fish. They were practically lined up along the entire perimeter. I don't know how I missed them before, but I am extremely aware of them now.

At this point I decide being close to the lake maybe isn't a great idea and I walk back to the trail, passing one more dead fish along the way that was admittedly pretty far from the water. I don't know how it got up there. Despite this dead fish experience, I do not particularly want to leave, so I keep walking along the trail further into the woods.

After regaining my distance from the shore things start to turn majestic again and I'm back to having a good serene forest time. My mom calls on the phone and we talk about my nephews basketball game. I pass by some kind of feathery mass a bit off the trial.

It was a dead gull.

I wonder aloud if maybe it ate one of those dead fish and got sick from it and died. Sometimes there's dead animals in the forest and sometimes we want to keep walking along a trail on a nice day. I will not be deterred. I keep going.

A little bit after that I notice something large up ahead ON the trail.

Twas but a dead goose, blocking the entire way forward with its body.

Lacking confidence in my ability to side-step the goose and figuring that logically the next dead thing I would run into would be a human jogger or perhaps someone who had been walking their dog, I decided to call it quits and go home.

The end.

[in-som-niyah]

"Its so lonely in my mansion"

a/n: ok so i found this in my drafts and its just a little wip for an au where Jason takes advantage of reader's loveless marriage because he finds her in such a pitiful situation that de decides to 'help her out' ;)

Warnings: dark-ish!Jason, manipulative!Jason, cheating reader

side piece!jason who climbs through your window at first to hide from someone, he was about to leave until he caught your figure in the bathroom mirror’s reflection. you were married, but where was your husband? he’s looked into your window too many times and hasn’t seen you with him yet. It’s coincidence really, your luxury apartment is just such a good vantage point, it’s not his fault he can hear your whimpers of defeat when you can’t get yourself off on your own. Jason is in the business of helping people. so he’s going to help you.

It starts off easy, running into you randomly, showing up at your law office as a “client”, getting you flowers (sent to your house of course) and gifts. If he sees your eyes linger on an item in a store (that he’s definitely not spying on you from) it’ll end up in your doorstep.

He waits for some kind of pushback from you, any respectable man who actively takes care of his wife would be offended if another man were to step in and do his job for him. If his wife was happy, she wouldn’t want any other man to take care of her. But here we are: a windy gotham night ruffles the petals of your latest bouquet from him, Jason’s ears delightfully plagued by your silent pleas into a sleepless night.

Slowly, he works his way into your comfort zone and is invited over, of course he’s a respectful gentleman but Jason can’t help but fist his cock in his car because the blouse you were wearing was just a little too low in the neckline.

His perversions continue, coffee after consultations, giving you rides home, showing up at your house to give you cookies

His resolve is snapped when you kiss him goodbye one night, after too many glasses of wine and a conversation about your husband being on constant business trips while you collected dust. It was refreshing to have someone in your corner, someone who doesn’t see all the money that he gives you and tells you to just enjoy it.

Jason loses his mind, drives home and doesn’t even bother to take his keys out of his door. His mind is consumed with how well your lips meld together, how your tongue moves against his, how you playfully bit his bottom lip just to tease him.

He hasn’t felt this insane since forever, and he loves every second of it. Ropes of cum paint his fist for the third time that week, all from thinking about how beautifully damned was a caged bird like you. Just waiting for someone to snatch her up and swallow her whole.

Weeks go by of him showing up randomly with a new story about how his day had the most interesting turn of events. Phone calls carrying into all hours of the night, talking about any and everything, building your trust. You mention that your husband was never interested in the frivolities of your firm, or the silly stories of the weird people you saw on your way to work. It felt so good to have someone that actually listened to you and took account of the things you said.

In the back of your mind, you knew it was wrong. You were married for fucks sake. Your husband paid for the best life anyone could ask for, but wasn't that enough? As much as the ethics of the situation spun your head, were you really going to go back to another night of frustration without him?

[lilangelbud]

The house was quiet when he stepped inside, the familiar creak of the front door echoing through the empty hallway. Home. The word felt foreign after being away at college. He dropped his duffel bag by the stairs and glanced around, taking in the unchanged decor. But something felt different. The air was thicker, heavier, like the place had been holding its breath waiting for him to return.

Then he heard it—the soft hum of a song coming from the kitchen. A voice, light and melodic, drifting through the house like a siren’s call. Her voice. He hadn’t heard it in months, not in person at least. Phone calls and texts didn’t do it justice. He followed the sound, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor.

When he reached the kitchen doorway, he froze. Holy shit. There she was, his little sister, standing at the counter with her back to him. But she wasn’t little anymore. Her once gangly frame had filled out in all the right places. Her curves were undeniable, her hips swaying slightly as she danced to the music only she could hear. She wore a tight pair of jeans that hugged her ass like they were made just for her, and a loose tank top that slid off one shoulder, revealing the strap of her bra.

He cleared his throat, trying to act normal, but his heart was pounding in his chest. “Hey, sis.”

She jumped, spinning around with a hand over her chest. “Jesus! You scared me!” Her eyes widened as she took him in, her cheeks flushing pink. “When did you get here?”

“Just now.” He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. “Didn’t think I’d walk in on you… what’s this? Practicing for American Idol?”

She rolled her eyes, but he noticed the way her lips twitched into a smile. “Shut up. I didn’t think anyone was home.” She turned back to the counter, grabbing a glass of water, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander again. When did she get so… grown up?

“Damn, lil sis,” he said, unable to stop himself. “You’ve, uh… changed.”

She glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “I am 18, you know. People tend to grow up.”

“Yeah, but…” His voice trailed off as he took her in again. Her boobs were fuller, her ass rounder, her legs longer. She was stunning, and it was impossible to ignore. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

She noticed, her eyes flicking down for a split second before she quickly looked away. “Stop staring, you creep.”

“I’m not staring,” he lied, his voice strained. “Just… surprised, that’s all.”

She laughed, a soft, breathy sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “You’re such a liar. You’re staring. And it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” he said, taking a step closer. “You’re my sister. I’m allowed to notice when you look… different.”

She turned to face him fully, crossing her arms over her chest. “Different how?”

He hesitated, his eyes drifting down her body again. “You’re… you’re hot, sis. Like, really hot.”

Her cheeks flushed even darker, but she didn’t look away. “You’re such a perv.”

“I’m just being honest,” he said, taking another step closer. “You’re all grown up now. It’s hard not to notice.”

She bit her lip, her eyes flicking down to his crotch for a moment before she quickly looked away. “You’re… you’re hard.”

He froze, his face burning with embarrassment. “Shit. I—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, her voice soft. She didn’t look at him, but he could see the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her tank top.

The air between them was electric, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, his fingers brushing against her arm. “Sis…”

She shivered at his touch, her eyes finally meeting his. “Big bro, we… we can’t. This is… this is weird.”

“It’s not weird,” he said, his voice low and husky. “It’s just us.”

She hesitated, her eyes searching his for something—permission, maybe, or assurance. He didn’t know what she found, but when she stepped closer, her body pressing against his, he knew she felt it too.

Her breath hitched as he cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Big bro…”

He didn’t give her a chance to second-guess herself, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with a desperation that surprised him.

He groaned, his hands roaming her body, exploring every curve he’d been too afraid to touch before. She gasped against his lips, her hips grinding against his as they stumbled blindly toward the stairs.

“Wait,” she whispered, pulling back slightly. “We can’t… not here.”

He nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Your room.”

She nodded, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs, their footsteps silent on the carpet. When they reached her room, she closed the door behind them, her back pressed against it as she looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching his again, before she nodded. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t waste any time, crashing his lips against hers as his hands fumbled with the hem of her tank top. She pulled it over her head, tossing it aside, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her bare chest. Her bra was flimsy, barely covering her, and he could see the hard peaks of her nipples through the fabric.

“God, lil sis,” he groaned, his hands cupping her breasts through the bra. “You’re fucking perfect.”

She moaned, her head falling back against the door as his fingers teased her nipples. “Big bro…”

He didn’t waste any time, pulling her bra off and tossing it aside before his mouth was on her, sucking and nibbling at her sensitive skin. She gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched into him.

He pulled her toward the bed, laying her down gently before stripping off his shirt. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, her gaze dropping to the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re… you’re so big,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He smirked, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off, his boxers following soon after. Her eyes widened even more as his cock sprung free, thick and hard and throbbing.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice strained.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “Yes.”

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her as his hands slid down her body, pulling her jeans and panties off in one swift motion. She was completely naked now, her body exposed to him in a way that made his heart race.

“You’re so beautiful, sis” he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs.

She shivered at his touch, her legs parting instinctively. “Bro, please…”

He didn’t need her to say more, his fingers brushing against her wetness, teasing her entrance. She gasped, her hips bucking against his hand as he slid a finger inside her.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his finger moving in and out of her slowly. “You feel so good.”

She whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets as he added a second finger, stretching her slowly. “Big bro… I… I need you.”

He pulled his fingers out, positioning himself at her entrance. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her eyes locking with his. “I’m sure.”

He pushed into her slowly, his jaw clenching as he felt her tight walls clenching around him. “Fuck, sis… you feel amazing.”

She gasped, her nails digging into his back as he bottomed out inside her. “Big bro…”

He started to move, his hips rocking against hers as he thrust in and out of her, slow at first, but quickly picking up speed. She moaned, her legs wrapping around his waist as she met his thrusts, her body moving in sync with his.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained. “So fucking tight.”

She whimpered, her head falling back against the pillow as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. “I… I’m gonna…”

“Come for me, baby” he growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “Come on brother's cock.”

She didn’t need any more encouragement, her body trembling as she came undone, her walls clenching around him in waves of pleasure. He groaned, his own release following soon after, his cum filling her as he collapsed on top of her, his breathing ragged.

They lay there for a moment, their bodies still connected, before he pulled out, rolling onto his back. She curled up against his side, her head resting on his chest as they both tried to catch their breath.

“That was…” she started, her voice trembling.

“Amazing,” he finished, wrapping an arm around her. “You were amazing.”

She smiled, her eyes closing as she snuggled closer to him. “I’m glad it was you, big bro.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his mind racing with thoughts of what they’d just done. This could change everything. But as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to care. For now, it was just them, and that was enough.

[vyl3tpwny]

ive listened to your music through a lot of different avenues (headphones/eardbus/phone speaker/speakers in general); every time i do i still am able to hear something new in the effects or sound effects i'd never heard before, despite binge listening a lot of the time

i just wanna say its genuinely incredible how many layers your tracks have 💜💜💜 how many layers do they usually have?? or does it vary a lot?

it varies quite a bit!

i'll show this but i'll clarify something:

this is the project file for creature city, as an example. it goes to 216 tracks. but you have to take this track count with a grain of salt. some tracks are dedicated entirely to a sound that plays for half a second and thats it sometimes fkhljsdf.

regardless, no matter what genre of music i'm doing, a lot of my philosophy with layering and depth comes from my experience with the IDM* and neurofunk music scenes, where there's an absurd amount of layers, focus on fluid section transitions, and shifting soundscapes that seldom stay the same. a lot of artists in that space that have changed me forever in that regards are Iglooghost, Copycatt, Mr. Bill, False Noise, Noisia, Amon Tobin, and Culprate.

tho to be honest it's sort of a compulsion?

because tbh i think one of my weaknesses as an artist is i tend to be really self conscious about simplicity and straightforwardness. a lot of the times i definitely feel that i create more complexity than necessary to compensate for the fact that i don't always write an idea to work simply first. what i mean by that is a lot of rlly great songs are not trillions of layers and ideas all at once but just a simple idea executed satisfyingly, and i have a hard time doing that much of the time. a lot of my work can come off overproduced and stuff as a result and it's something i'm working hard to learn better how to do. it's a weird concept, because you train so much as an artist to do more advanced and complex things, you lose sight of rawness and straightforwardness at some point. with something like creature city i think the complexity is warranted, but yeahh it's a thing i think about!

i think if a song sounds top tier and is only like 10-20 tracks, that's the LIFE man. i find it super hard to make my own work engaging with so few tracks, i wanna challenge myself to get to that level.

i bring all this up bc i've seen like ppl go on about how many tracks they have in their projects as like a flex and tbh it's not really a flex at all sdfkjlsdfjk.

one of my fav examples of this concept i'm talking about is stromae and his record "alor on danse".

vro makes a club classic using like a few tracks, a laptop, and the dinkiest midi keyboard i've ever seen in my life. to me that's a mastery that i do not have yet, and it's very important to me.

anyway just thought i'd write this <3

*IDM is a genre name I don't agree with, but just wrote it for posterity. I tend to call this genre of music "Progressive Electronic" or, as Aphex Twin has called it, "Brain Dance" music. we can have more discussion about the genre name of IDM at some point in the future.

[mj-iza-writer]

So, I know this may look a little scary. There is a lot of Russian as it is set in Russia (it only makes sense that characters speak their native language). This story gave me a lot of practice with Russian, which I needed. All of the Russian has been highlighted with the English translation next to it. I hope everyone enjoys. Special thanks to @weirdthingweee who helped with planning this story.

"Radimir, are you sure I can't use my cane?", Whumpee held tightly onto their friend's hand, "it would be a little easier for both of us if you had a free hand."

"Unfortunately, the Metro is at its busiest. You would be hitting a lot of people's ankles with your guide staff", Radimir looked around, "it's best that you don't let go until we both get on the train. That way, I won't lose you."

"Извините (pardon me)", Whumpee heard Radimir.

"It's so weird being somewhere and not understanding anything of what's going on. The announcements, the mix of everyone talking. Plus being blind anyways", Whumpee giggled lightly, "kind of more awkward than normal."

"Yes, I have that type of sensory overload in the bussier parts of America", Radimir turned, "and in the countries that I do not speak the language. We've got to go."

"Wait?", Whumpee frowned.

"Слепой ироходит (blind person coming through)", Radimir pulled a little quicker, causing Whumpee to stumble and fall.

Without looking, Radimir hurried to grab a hand and hurried onto the train.

"Sorry I caused you to stumble, there were a lot of people going for the tra....", Radimir turned to see that they were not holding Whumpee's hand.

The stranger seemed just as confused.

"Извини (sorry)", Radimir quickly released the stranger's hand.

"Спасибо, что помогли мне сесть на поезд (thanks for helping me get on the train)", the person grinned sheepishly.

"Пожалуйста (don't mention it)", Radimir turned quickly, "now where is Whumpee?", they frowned as the doors closed, "no no no."

They got to the door just in time to see someone helping Whumpee off of the ground.

"No no no...  fuck", Radimir moved slightly as the train started to go, "the one thing I didn't want to happen. Now I have a blind American lost in Russia."

Whumpee felt a hand grab them and help them up.

"Thank.. uh спасибо (thankyou)", Whumpee whimpered.

The person helped them to a seat, said something else, and walked away.

Whumpee hurried to pull their papers out: identification, passport, and a note that Radimir had written to explain the situation. They were told that if anyone were to approach them, they needed to hand those items over.

If Radimir did manage to lose them, they needed to stay in one spot until Radimir got back to them. The only way that could change was if the politsiya (Russian police) took them into custody. They were to follow orders, and hope someone spoke English. The note Radimir had written would again hopefully help.

Whumpee shivered slightly. They still had a chill from the outside air.

"This is great", Whumpee mumbled, "I'm lost, I have no way of reaching out to Radimir. I can't see, I can't understand anything. I know there is a possibility, but I hope Radimir gets me before the police do. I don't want to go into custody."

Whumpee blinked away tears.

As time passed the station was growing quiet.

Someone had checked on Whumpee a few times. They had read the note and looked at the passport and identification.

Whumpee was getting more anxious every time the person came by.

Whumpee's heart sank when a group of people could be heard coming closer. Whumpee gulped when they felt them stop in front of them.

Whumpee shakingly handed their papers over.

"We... are... politsiya. You... come... now", they ordered.

Whumpee gulped again, but nodded.

Thirty minutes later, Radimir hurried off the train. They checked everywhere, but Whumpee was gone.

"Great", Radimir sighed. Their phone vibrated, "great", they recognized the number.

"Здравствуйте, ето Radimir (polite hello, this is..)", they sighed.

"Здравствуйте, ето Aleksandr", the person responded, "уа из полиции (I am with the police). Мы взяли под стражу человека, который принадлежит вам (we took somebody into custody who belongs to you)."

"Да, я хочу вернуть их (yes, I want to get them back)", Radimir sighed, "могу ли я прийти и забрать их? (Can I come get them?) Они в порядке? (Are they okay?)"

"Они в безопасности (they are safe). Очень испуганный и робкий (very scared and timid). Мы предоставляем им наилчшее возможное размещение в соответствии с вашими указаниями (we are giving them the best accommodation we can per your note). Ето было очень полезно (that was very helpful)", the officer sighed, "вы можете прийти и подписать бумаги (you can come sign the papers). Что запустит процесс (that will start to process)."

"Процесс? (process?), почему всегда есть процесс? (why is there always a process?) Их ты имеешь уже сколько часов? (you've had them for what, an hour?)"

"Извините, мы должны убедиться, что все сделано по поводу (I apologize, we have to make sure everything is done correctly)", the officer grumbled.

"Да, и вы сохраните их в течение 5 дней после (yes and you'll keep them for 5 days after)", Radimir frowned, "я скоро буду. (I'll be there shortly)"

Radimir hung up and rubbed the side of his head, "I guess this is as good a time as any to call in a special favor."

Radimir made their call, then proceeded to the politsiya station.

"Могу ли я увидкть их? (Can I see them?)", Radimir looked up from the papers they were signing, "убедитесь, что они в порядке... утешить их (make sure they are okay... comfort them)."

"Нет, ето не очень хорошая идея (No, that would not be a good idea)", the officer commented.

"Hmm, для кого (for who)", Radimir fiddled with the pen, "ты, видимо, понятия не имеешь, кто я (you apparently have no idea who I am).

"Нет и мне все равно (No, and I don't care)", the officer stared, "зто будет рассматриватьсг как любой другой случай (this will be treated like any other case)."

"У вас будут ироблемы, если они получат травму (You will have a problem if they're injured)", Radimir stood abruptly and started for the door.

"Извините, мы не оказываем особых услуг (sorry, we don't do special favors)", the officer called after Radimir.

Radimir paused, and bit their bottom lip, "I can't get arrested, I can not attack a police agent.

The officer chuckled lowly as Radimir left.

The officer sat back comfortably at their desk. They looked through the papers that Radimir had signed. They decided to wait a few days before filing the paperwork. They really did not like the attitude Radimir had given. The American would have to deal with it.

Their door was slammed open.

"Oi", they yelled as they looked up and saw who was barging in, "Капитан? (captain?)"

"Ты идиот (you're an idiot)", the captain frowned, "отвезите менг к слепому американцу (take me to the blind American)... Сейчас (now)... Я очень надеюсь, что они не пострадали (I really hope they are not injured)."

"Почему мы им преклоняемся? (why are we bowing down to them?)", the officer pulled out keys and stood.

"Радимир - друг нашего босса (Radimir is a friend of our boss)", the captain quickly followed, "он также владеет очень важным бизнесои (he also owns a very important business). Он не тот, с кем стоит связываться (he's not the one to mess with), но тебе удалось (but you succeeded)."

"Это не кажется правильным (this doesn't seem right)", the officer turned down the hall and saw their boss standing there. A glare planted on their face.

"Обязательно скажите ему, что (make sure to tell him that)", the captain whispered as they reached for the keys.

The officer gulped.

The door opened slowly.

Radimir's friend looked in and saw Whumpee cowering in the corner.

"Hey Whumpee", the friend walked in calmly, "I am Igor, Radimir's friend. I'm going to get you back to Radimir. Do you by chance remember me?"

Whumpee shook their head, "no, I'm sorry. I'm so scared, are you here to help me? Wait, yo-you speak English. I just want to get back to Radimir. Please", Whumpee pleaded.

"Yes,I can speak English. I don't know why I wasn't told that we had an American here. I can see you shaking. Here, I am going to help you up. We are going to wrap you in a blanket. You'll come to my office while we wait for Radimir to come back."

Whumpee quickly nodded and let Igor help them up.

"There we go. Are you hungry?", Igor wrapped the blanket around Whumpee, "I'm sorry for the mix up. You've had quite a day today. You got lost, arrested, and rescued all in the same day", Igor started to lead them from the cell, "онп не притронулись к еде (they didn't touch their meal), кто- нибудь им вообще помог? (Did anyone help them at all?)"

Igor looked around and saw everyone looking down.

"Постыдный (disgraceful)", Igor frowned, "кто-нибудь, приготовьте им еду (someone go make them some food)."

The Captain apologized repeatedly as they led Radimir to Igor's office.

"Все в порядке, пока онп в безопасности (it's alright, as long as they're safe)", Radimir sighed.

Radimir caught eyes with the officer who gave them all of the difficulties. They only shook their head and turned to follow the Captain.

**KNOCK... KNOCK**

"Приходить (come in)", Igor welcomed.

The Captain quickly opened the door, nodded to Igor, and let Radimir in. They quickly closed the door after.

Igor watched as Radimir took in the sight.

Whumpee sat quietly on the floor. Tear tracks traced down their cheeks. Their pale eyes glossed over from crying. Their eyes were rubbed raw from the crying.

Radimir turned to Igor.

"Had I known, I would have gotten them sooner. I had no idea", Igor said apologetically, "I'm so sorry."

Radimir watched as Whumpee slowly ate a dumpling. They sniffled slightly as they swallowed.

"Out of all the things I didn't want to deal with while bringing them to Russia. Losing them and dealing with law enforcement was top of the list", Radimir sighed.

"Radimir?", Whumpee lifted their head quickly in shock.

"I am so sorry for losing you", Radimir hurried to Whumpee, "I hurried as fast as I could to get back to you. Of course, every train I used to get back to you didn't seem to be going fast enough. Definitely not as fast as the politsiya move, of course."

"We are the finest", Igor chuckled, "I am so sorry about the mix up. Is there anyway we can make it up to you?"

"A fast ride back to my company's building would be great, but we can walk."

"Say no more", Igor got up, "I have the fastest car here."

Whumpee cuddled close into Radimir as Igor sped through the streets.

"You are so brave", Radimir hugged Whumpee closer.

"Thankyou", Whumpee stretched to rest their head on Radimir's chest, "I'm tired."

"Yes, I can Imagine", Radimir played with Whumpee's hair, "you had more adventure then I originally planned for you."

Igor turned to look at them, "yes, can I recommend one of the museums next time?"

"I don't think I'm going to get them to do much else this trip", Radimir sighed, "maybe next time."

Whumpee's breathing relaxes.

"I think they are falling asleep. Whumpee just a few more moments. I'm going to get you in my office. I have the couch all ready for you."

"Mmm", Whumpee moaned tiredly.

The car went even faster.

"Не убивайте нас (don't kill us)", Radimir sighed as they held Whumpee close.

"Вы шутите (are you kidding), ты знаешь, как быстро я обычно езжу? ( do you know how fast I normally go?)", Igor laughed.

"He drives like you Radimir", Whumpee commented.

"So is your hotel near your company", Igor parked, "I can wait if you needed to grab something."

"Actually we are spending the night in my office. Tomorrow the hotel will be ready for us", Radimir started to get Whumpee's hat on them.

"Are you sure?", Igor frowned, "my home may be more comfortable than your office."

"Yes, I'm sure it would be. I'm going to work through the night. I have some assignments to work on before a meeting tomorrow. The beauty of them being blind, is I can keep the light on", Radimir smiled as Whumpee tiredly blinked, "my couch is comfortable, and they're tired enough. I've already taken a nap earlier. I appreciate it, my dear friend. Спасибо.. за все (thankyou for everything)."

"Of course, I'm glad I could help", Igor turned to Whumpee, "I hope that this mix up didn't dampen you wanting to visit Russia again. We are a great country, I promise."

"I know, it gave me Radimir. I'll just make sure not to lose him again" Whumpee grinned sheepishly, "thankyou for helping me."

"You're welcome", Igor cupped Whumpee's cheek, "always."

Radimir leaned up, "thankyou for the ride. I appreciate all of your help today."

"You're welcome", Igor grinned.

Whumpee fell onto the couch after Radimir helped wipe them down.

"You'll get a better shower tomorrow at the hotel", Radimir pulled a blanket up to Whumpee's chin, "I am truly sorry for what happened earlier, and I am so happy to have you back."

"I'm happy to be back as well. I'm sorry, I'm really tired though", Whumpee whispered.

"Yes, I'm sure you are", Radimir played through Whumpee's hair, "my desk is just a few feet away. There is a bathroom in here as well. Your guide staff is right here", Radimir moved Whumpee's hand to where their pole was.

"Thankyou Radimir", Whumpee sighed, "I appreciate you working so hard to get me out of there."

"You're welcome", Radimir cupped Whumpee's cheek, "get some rest. I'll have a few things to do with you tomorrow after the meeting. None of which will involve the Metro. We will only use that when it's not busy. I'll be holding your hand a lot tighter."

"I still can't believe you grabbed the wrong hand", Whumpee giggled.

"Yes, the face the person made when I finally realized", Radimir chuckled as well.

Whumpee sighed tiredly, "this couch feels so good."

"I'm sure it does. Alright, you get some sleep", Radimir stood, "I'll be right over here if you need me."

"Thankyou Radimir", Whumpee smiled again.

"You're welcome", Radimir smiled, "sleep well (спокойной ночи).

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@weirdthingweee @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@jumpywhumpywriter @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @thenormalestever

@whatwhump @galatic-worm

@starmoon-constellation @bacillusinfection

[baekhyunsbestie]

baekhyun saw you once—just once—and decided that was enough. he was in love. struck. completely, irrevocably doomed.

but instead of, you know, being normal about it, he did something that would have any sane person running for the hills. in the span of a heartbeat, he pulled out his phone and hit record, capturing you in all your unknowing, breathtaking glory. it was barely a five-second clip—just you, minding your own business, oblivious to the man whose entire world had just tilted on its axis.

and then, because apparently, restraint was not in his vocabulary, he slapped that video onto tiktok with a caption that instantly cemented him as a walking red flag:

“saw the prettiest angel today… but she flew away before i could shoot my shot. do your thing, tiktok.”

unsurprisingly, the internet did exactly what he asked. the video exploded in record time, flooding fyp’s, group chats, and timelines like a digital wildfire.

your phone was the first casualty.

text after text, notification after notification—your screen lit up like a christmas tree. friends, family, coworkers—everyone and their mother had something to say.

“uhhh… why are you going viral on tiktok???”

“girl. GIRL. IS THIS YOU??”

“not you getting soft launched by a stranger LMAO”

and because curiosity got the best of you, you did the only reasonable thing left to do.

you slid into his dm’s.

baekhyun saw your message the second it came in.

he had been waiting—refreshing the app, pacing his apartment, checking his notifications like a man possessed. he'd taken a risk posting that video. sure, he'd been confident the internet would work its magic, but he hadn't accounted for the fact that you could’ve seen it and just… ignored him.

so when your username finally appeared in his dm’s—accompanied by a profile picture that confirmed it was you, the woman who had completely derailed his world in a single glance—he nearly fumbled his phone in his rush to open it.

you: sooo, did you know recording strangers in public is kinda weird?

your heart was still hammering from the decision to even message him. you had debated it for hours—oscillating between this is unhinged, i’m blocking him and well… i mean, it’s kinda flattering? against your better judgment, curiosity won out.

and then, of course, he responded immediately.

baekhyun_inb100: sooo, did you know ignoring your soulmate when fate literally put us in the same place is kinda rude?

your brows shot up. okay. bold. he had zero shame, apparently.

you scoffed, thumbs moving before you could think better of it.

you: fate didn’t do anything, you just weaponized the internet.

baekhyun laughed under his breath, leaning back against his couch. he liked you already. sharp. fast. no nonsense. if he had been on the fence about you before (he hadn’t), he definitely wasn’t now.

baekhyun_inb100: ‘weaponized’ is a strong word… i prefer ‘used my resources creatively.’

you: so creatively you had an entire app tracking me down?

your fingers hovered over your screen as you hit send, biting your lip. you weren’t gonna lie—there was something entertaining about this. he was flirting, obviously, but in a way that didn’t immediately make you want to throw your phone across the room.

on the other end, baekhyun grinned, practically buzzing with excitement now. he hadn’t expected this conversation to be fun. he figured you’d either chew him out or leave him on read—both outcomes he was willing to risk.

baekhyun_inb100: what can i say? desperate times call for viral measures.

you leaned back against your couch, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the weird thing was—you should be annoyed. or at least mildly unsettled. but instead, you felt… amused? intrigued? maybe a little flattered, though you’d rather die than admit it.

you: and what exactly were you planning to do if tiktok didn’t find me?

baekhyun smirked at his screen, shaking his head. you were good.

baekhyun_inb100: suffer. dramatically.

you snorted.

you: and now that tiktok did find me?

your fingers hesitated as you typed the question, surprised by how much you actually wanted to know his answer.

baekhyun, on the other hand, barely even had to think about it.

baekhyun_inb100: take you on the best date of your life. unless you wanna break my heart right here in my dm’s. your call, angel. no pressure… kinda.

your breath hitched, caught off guard by the sudden shift. you had been expecting more teasing, maybe another joke. but no—this was direct. confident. flirting laced with just the right amount of sincerity.

he was smooth. dangerously so.

but you weren’t gonna make this easy.

you: how do i know this will be the ‘best date of my life’ if you didn’t even have the balls to go up to me in person?

baekhyun groaned, dragging a hand down his face. okay. fair. but also—ouch.

baekhyun_inb100: okokok… first of all, RUDE? second of all, i was strategizing! clearly, it worked because now you’re here.

you rolled your eyes, smirking at your screen.

you: ohhhh, i see. so you’re saying the charm is only digital?

baekhyun clutched his chest, letting out an exaggerated gasp, even though no one was around to witness his suffering. digital only? please. he was dripping in real life charm. you’d see.

baekhyun_inb100: ouch... now i HAVE to take you out just to prove you wrong. lemme know when you're free, and i’ll make sure it’s the best decision of your life.

your heart skipped. you were not supposed to be this affected by some random man in your dm’s. and yet—here you were, staring at his message like an idiot.

finally, you typed back.

you: fine. one date. just to see if you live up to the hype.

baekhyun nearly whooped out loud, punching the air like he’d just won a championship. instead, he settled for a self-satisfied grin as he typed his reply.

baekhyun_inb100: spoiler alert, angel: i do. but i’ll let you find that out yourself.

[uty-confessions]

I DONT :( i can make a shortcut tho but it would suck ass. i have shortcuts for my simply plural jargon and tm and shit and they NEVER FUCKING WORK -cranon

:[

[uhcasual]

All illustrations for The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Russian Edition Exclusives, Volume 5

Finally got my hands on the russian истари/Istari publication volume 5 for Mo Dao Zu Shi, so here are high resolution scans of the art exclusive to this particular edition. The art here portrays events that occur in the post-storyline extras.

Full resolution available for download here (tumblr compresses images a little)

Illustration Artist: Marina Privalova (Baoshan Karo)

[Vol. 1] - [Vol. 2] - [Vol. 3] - [Vol. 4] - [Vol. 5] (part 1)

[fungi-maestro]

Happy tdov to fat trans people. 🏳️‍⚧️ Biggest thing that helped me as a trans kid was seeing older fat trans people. There were a lot of really irritating "advice" posts going around early in my time on the internet with a lot of misinformation in them, but one that I constantly saw (in addition to people claiming you should wear your pants rediculously low or only wear button ups) were posts saying you had to lose weight to transition. Can confidently confirm that is completely untrue. 👍

[salmoninzeeweed]

I'm sorry but I absolutely fucking hate sheith (shiro x keith) like wtf NO...

Shiro knew keith since he was a CHILD, HE BASICALLY RAISED HIM, AND PEOPLE SHIP THEM??????

Keith literally called shiro his BROTHER, HE SEES SHIRO AS HIS BROTHER! CAN PEOPLE STOP BEING FUCKASS WEIRDOS AND STOP SHIPPING TWO PEOPLE WHO CANONICALLY AND VERY CLEARLY SEE EACH OTHER AS BROTHERS PLEASE???

All hate to sheith shippers I'm not even gonna sugar coat that, please stop writing and making art of them being "in love" idc if you think "oH bUT ThEir CheMistrY-" STFUUUUUUU STFU NO HELL NO

Anyway klance forever!!!

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[ratislatis]

I'll find you. Wait for me.

hee hee hoo hoo AUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH PAIN PAIN SUFFERING PAIN IN ALL DIRECTIONS!!!! TO HELL WITH IT (LITERALLY)!!!!!!!!!

[lemongogo]

lolz