#my room. like my life. has been a mess recently lol

[theladyheroine]

🥞 Pancakes 🥞

Movie! Shadow x Platonic! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Cozy, Silly

Word Count: 1,503 words

⚠️ Warning: None, except little embarrassment

Summary: Hi guys! I got excited about my last Shadow fic so I wrote another one! The songs I used are this one & this one btw, but this fic is more casual than the previous one so it’s much shorter too. Inspired by when my Mom recently caught me dancing (lol).

I want to spend my life 

With a girl like you!

Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,

Faint words filtered through Shadow’s ears as his eyelids fluttered open. It took him a while to fully realize he was awake, but thankfully he didn’t feel too heavy. He rested for a minute before sitting up and scooting over to the bedside. 

It wasn’t very bright, surprisingly. He saw the blinds had been left open and the dark gray sky filtered over the room. Raindrops scattered across glass, making a rhythmic noise, but it felt nice. 

Till that time has come, 

That we might live as one!

Can I dance with you?

Perking up at the cool words, he shuffled his way towards the door and into the hallway. The sound grew louder before Shadow realized it was music playing, and a buttery smell accompanied it. 

Most of the lights were off since it wasn’t exactly dark out, but only one or two yellow lights shone above the kitchen stove. With you moving and swaying there in a very strange manner. Shadow would hardly call it dancing: you were just bobbing up and down, tossing your head and holding a spatula to your face. If he didn’t know you prior he would’ve thought you looked foolish. But you were his friend now, he wasn’t about to judge. 

Girl, why should it be 

That you don't notice me?

“Can I dance with you?— OhmygoshShadow!!"

You yelped loudly as you quickly jolted back, surprised— and embarrassed— to find Shadow standing behind you. Your spatula knocked into a bowl of pancake batter, sending a blob of beige-white goo down to the floor. 

“Ohshoot-sorry! I didn’t see you there bud!” 

“No, I should’ve said something.” 

You rushed to grab a paper towel and swipe the batter off your tiles, but Shadow beat you to it. 

“Nah, it’s all good! I should’ve been paying attention.” You chuckled and grabbed another one, soaking it under the sink then cleaned any excess mush. 

“Is that The Troggs playing?” Shadow asked, tossing the mess into the trash can. 

You quickly lowered the stove temperature and nodded, “Yup! They’re awesome huh! I love their songs.” 

You were about to scoop up some more batter, then paused for a minute. 

“Wait—You know The Troggs?!” You exclaimed, swinging your face back around. 

“Mmhmm,” Shadow nodded. “I’ve heard only one song, until now.”

You gave a mental “huh” before going back to your pancakes. Even hedgehogs had good taste in music. Who knew?

It had been a full month now since Shadow started living with you, and even without teleportation, he still had ways of surprising you.  

You were home all day since it was the weekend, but Shadow had spent most of his time in his room. He usually did; if you weren’t up and about neither was he. In a way, he was like your own little shadow. You never pressed what he did alone, but judging by his expression, he had just woken up from a nap. 

“What are you doing?” Shadow peered over the counter, quills twitching with curiosity.

“Just makin’ some pancakes. They’re a little crispy though.” 

You slid a slightly burnt piece onto a plate. The pretty golden circles stood in a short stack and gave off an amazing smell. You could see Shadow lean closer as his red eyes grew bigger. 

“They’re…pancakes?” He stated his words as if asking a question, but to himself. Which made you curious. 

“Yep! I know it’s weird having breakfast for lunch, but I wanted to make something different this time.” 

“Uh huh.” He drawled. “They smell nice.”

His brows scrunched up and down, spreading more confusion across his face as Shadow watched the pan sizzle. Pancakes seemed like such an alien concept to him, ironically. 

“Shadow?” You asked. “Have you ever had a pancake before?” 

He paused again, but shook his head. “No. Are they any good?”

“Uh–yes!! They’re delicious!” 

To say you were surprised was an understatement: how could he not know about pancakes? 

Until the realization hit you that he probably hasn’t even seen pancakes before. You didn’t know where Shadow came from, and have avoided mentioning it in the past. Even after you became friends. In all that time spent together, you hardly knew a thing about him. And he still seemed reluctant to share. 

Movement shook you from your daze as Shadow picked up your spatula, poking the goo in the bowl like a little kid. His story would have to wait for another day. Your top priority: showing him the best brunch ever. 

Life could be a dream! Life could be a dream!

Do do do do, SH-Boom!

Your phone quickly changed its tune as The Chords started playing. It couldn’t have picked a more perfect song. 

“Why don’t you give this a try Shadow!” You scooted the pan closer to him, turning off the heat and switching it to the other side. 

“Me?” He fumbled with the spatula. 

“Yea, why not! Don’t worry I’ll help you.” You gave a cheeky grin, “Besides, it’ll be fun to learn. Right?”

Shadow opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly. You had always made meals for him, or either helped him make them. Even when you were gone there’d always be something from the previous night, or wrapped up in plastic. 

But you had a point, he couldn’t rely on you for everything. Especially now. If he was going to stay, he’d have to start pulling his weight around. 

“Alright,” He tugged back his gloves and set himself behind the stove. “I’m ready.”

You poured a cup of batter into the pan. For such a serious character, he looked so adorable.

You two waited for a few minutes before you set your hand on his arm, helping him flip the pancake to the other side. It shifted a little, making tiny splatters, but the color was perfect. For the second one you let him do it himself, and it looked far better than the first.

Life could be a dream! SH-Boom!

If I could take you to a paradise up above,

SH-Boom! And tell me darling, 

“I’m the only one that you love!” You shimmied back and forth to the music as Shadow continued to pour and flip the batter. 

For a first timer he was doing incredibly well! Fast even; his pancakes came out looking far better than yours! To which Shadow claimed could only come natural to him. You shot a surprised look, but you were happy seeing him loosen up. After a little while, Shadow even joined in your silly dance moves. His shoes tapped along to the beat, and you could see his body bouncing as he mouthed the lyrics. You tried giving him a little bump of encouragement, til he stopped and looked at you strangely. 

“Wow!” You coughed, “You’re really getting the hang of this bud.” 

Shadow rolled his eyes but he kept smiling. “Thanks. This is..easier than I expected.” 

After a short while, you two had a full stack of pancakes. You quickly shut off the stove and tossed the bowl into the sink. Maneuvering the food to the countertop, you pulled out two little plates. You were about to grab the butter, but Shadow beat you once again. 

“Can I do it?” The container looked so small in his big hands. 

You nodded and found a plastic knife in the drawers. Leaving Shadow to butter the pancakes while you looked for the syrup. 

You came back from the pantry with a tall bottle in your hands, and to say Shadow was amazed was a clear understatement. The light in his eyes when the dark syrup trickled down the edible tower was enough to brighten any room. 

You two settled at the table, plates in hand. Meals were typically had together nowadays, but each time it felt different somehow. Shadow had come a long way, going from a worrisome little thing to a happy hedgehog! And you couldn’t be prouder.

“‘Kay bud, dig in!” You pushed your fork into the food and Shadow did the same, cutting it into bite sized pieces. 

Everything seemed normal, until after a few bites Shadow stopped. He just sat there, chewing, but his expression quickly changed. It wasn't confusion, more like—a blank expression? 

“Shadow?” You said through your food. “You doin’ okay there?”

Oh how you hoped he didn’t grab the burnt one.

In an instant, Shadow took a larger piece and shoved it in his mouth. He only half chewed before doing the same thing. He did this three more times and it took him about a minute to finish half the plate. 

Syrup coated his mouth, and he swallowed hard before speaking. “You were right. Pancakes are the superior choice.” 

That was all he said before stuffing his face again. 

“Yea-I-erm—yea! Well, I’m glad you like them!” 

You rushed over to sink and grabbed a cup of water. Thinking next time, you should just make eggs instead.

❣️—THE END—❣️

[thesadboisguidetolife]

My sweet and beautiful @beast-0f-lavendertown tagged me for a selfie a while back so im trying to play catch up. And since he blessed us with options, i figured id try to do the same so heres a photo dump of the last couple of weeks lol feat two hotties who have blessed my life with their existence

Im gonna go head and tag @campcrow2 @circle-of-power @hexdoll03 @velvetmercysharp @jacob-blogs @jaysunshappyhour @chubb-e-cheese @zelmoe @hibiscusgoblin @brujadelsur @top-raw-men @spider-boy1989 @druidofthegrove @weegeeboard @catgifsinthesenate @frickfrackpaddywack @chibi-masshuu @leafrose-santurn @rocksteadyvibes @vidibit @iamanimaginarybeing @jockoppressor @sucker-for--anything-acoustic and anyone else who i haven't had a chance to catch up with. Love you guys!!!

[lupinqs]

CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

[456-is-the-way]

hiii so ive had this idea for a while now but i just dont have the skills to write it myself, its not really a reader x character but more of a maybe actor!reader x the actor of the character if u get me??😭😭

so the idea is actor!reader plays a character that is also played as the love interest/partner of hwang inho (lee byung hun's character) and during their scenes together (like an intimate scene between their characters) reader just keeps messing up her lines or having trouble staying in character because she keeps getting flustered/shy by lee byung hun causing them to redo the scene over and over again so him and the whole cast just keeps laughing and teasing her about it😣😣🙏🙏🙏

A/n: So I will be going in order of the requests I get in my ask box then I will start on some suggestions I have in the comments. Once again, I do Actor x reader actor! So here is one of those ideas and I love it. I was going to do a tag list but I don’t know why it won't let me tag people!

Trigger warnings: Talks of smut, Partial Smut (lol?)

Squid Game Masterlist

Lee Byung-hun x reader

Quiet On Set

(Y/n) knew this scene would be the hardest to film. Sure as a professional actor, she filmed multiple movies that had intimate scenes. However, (Y/n) never had a romantic interest in the other actors. There was an instant spark when she met Lee Byung-hun. His character happens to have a complex background and in this season goes undercover to destroy Gi-hun, Lee Jung-jae, in an attempt to show him no matter what, people are greedy. Thats when (Y/n) character is introduced. (C/n) is written to be the complete opposite of The Frontman, In-ho. She is kind, patient, understanding, caring, and meant to show the good in humanity even though she has been dealt only hardships in life. Throughout the season their love builds up, soft touches, knowing glances, and quick kisses in secret. All the while (Y/n) had been falling helplessly in love with Lee Byung-hun. Of course, the fans did not let this go unnoticed during their recent interviews. Social media had blown up with edits and multiple bloggers posting about the chemistry they shared. (Y/n) would not admit her guilty pleasure is watching those edits and making comments herself which and fans foaming at the mouths. Lee Byung-hun even found it humorous that people not only shipped their character but them as well. When any with him and (Y/n) not on set but together was posted the fans always blew the comment section up within minutes. 

“Alright places everyone!” Hwang Dong-hyuk called as the crew rushed to make sure everything was set up in the correct frames. “(Y/n), Byung-hun are you all ready?” He asked kindly always wanting to double-check checking the actors were comfortable in scenes where they would be partially on display. (Y/n) nods even though slightly hesitant she walked onto the set and stood by the bathroom wall where the scene was going to be shot.

Byung-hun walked behind her with a smile, “Don’t be nervous (Y/n) this scene will be over before you know it.” It earned a shy smile from the actress leaning against the wall. 

“I am not that nervous… It’s a while since I have done scenes like this. Alright, I think we are ready.” She told the director and Byung-hun nodded in agreement. 

“Quiet on set, Take one, action!” He yelled and silence filled the room. (Y/n) could swear her heartbeat could probably be heard by how badly it was beating against her chest. 

Byung-hun fell into character without hesitation moving to press (Y/n) the cold tile. She breathes heavily cheeks flushed looking into his eyes. “In-ho we can’t” She whispered as he began aggressively kissing up her neck pressing their bodies together. (Y/n) let out a whimper from the pleasure she felt. 

“But you (C/n)” His voice went low showing his absolute dominance. (Y/n) wasn’t used to this side of the sweet Byung-hun. As scripted their jumpsuits were quickly discarded. The heavy breathing filled the room as the two actors stood almost nude in front of each other. His leg slipped between (Y/n). 

She arched up and moaned softly feeling him rub his knee against her covered core. “Byung-hun!” (Y/n) gasped causing him to instantly freeze. “Fuck I’m sorry.” She said as the director yelled cut. 

“Let's roll again.” As the scene had to be started over (Y/n) continued to be a flustered mess messing up the lines or using Byung-hun’s name instead of Young-Il.

“You are a mess.” He chuckled as the team thought it was hilarious she could not for the life of her finish the scene. Byung-hun smirked and leaned down whispering in a low sexual voice. “Do it in one shot this time and I’ll let you cry my name tonight.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen looking into her costars eyes with a grin. Let's just say she didn’t mess up again.

[yeonboy]

𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ♡ choi yeonjun.

If you had known that a fun night out eating junk food with your best friend that you have always harbored a crush on would turn this sour because he misunderstood your words, you would have kept your mouth shut. Now Yeonjun has gone radio silent on you and if you want to salvage your friendship, you will have to get over your feelings first because he will never forgive you if he finds out. Right?

❧ choi yeonjun x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends to lovers!au ♡ angst ♡ humor ♡ fluff

❧ 7 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt college sports/scouting/ice hockey, profanity, suggestive language, suggestive scenes, discussion and exhibition of puck bunny behavior, mentions of slut-shaming, misunderstandings, miscommunication, jealousy, some pining, yeonjun is stooooopiiiid, yn is also stooooopiiiid, one (1) singular heavy makeout sesh that gets a little out of hand hehe (:

❧ note! hi, world! this is a sideblog i created v v recently, but you won’t find links to my main anywhere bec i’ve decided to be a catfish on this one (: LOL jk, i just wanted a fresh start. i will be cutting back on the hoeing around i used to indulge in w my writing on that blog, and keep this place as sfw as i can - we’ll focus on tummy-aching angst instead! w a happy ending ofc bec ya girl is a softie 😔

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

"Dude, this has gone so fucking soggy, it's like chewing leather. Please stop eating it."

Your words of disgust and grimace of distaste were, unsurprisingly, nothing to deter your best friend from munching on the cold fries he'd left for the last when he'd been too busy gobbling down his burgers. Stuffing a handful into his mouth like an actual ape, he in fact wiggles his eyebrows at you in a challenge.

"I feel like I've seen an orangutan eat exactly the way you just did, Choi Yeonjun. Please stop."

That makes him giggle and clear his mouth, finally raising his hands in surrender. "Kay, I give up. They do taste like leather."

"Not even gonna ask how you know that… But this is why you're supposed to have your fries with the burgers and not after it."

"But they mess up my palate!"

When he pouts like that, it's so hard for you to believe that he's the university’s senior ice hockey team’s ace, their Center, their captain, and that he’s looking to get scouted professionally, this year. When he pouts like that, he takes you back to the time you first met him on the first day of your high school, both clueless freshmen with wide, innocent eyes full of huge dreams about your future.

Dreams that you're both very, very close to making a reality, now – him as a professional hockey player, and you interning at the law firm of your dreams.

Damn. Time sure flies fast.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Yeonjun tilts his head and you blink away from your thoughts, averting your gaze from his to instead stare at his shitty, soggy fries.

“Yeah. Stupid. A lot of it.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and rips a tissue out of the dispenser on the table to dab around his mouth just in case, and that gives you room to breathe in and out and try to will away the heat you can feel in your cheeks.

See, now, the thing is – you don’t necessarily have romantic feelings for your platonic best friend of eight years. That’d just be absurd and kind of creepy. But you sure as heck have always harbored a crush on him.

It’s just impossible not to! 

Guy has always been literally the most gorgeous human being you’ve ever seen, even at the universally ugly age of fourteen. He’s a gentleman, always kind to every single person in his life, would probably cut a limb off for a friend in need, and ever since your sophomore year of college, he’s gotten into manically coloring his hair, which…is seriously injurious to the onlookers’ health because dear God, the dirty blonde of his hair with the dark roots peeking through from his middle part? Makes your heart literally pound.

And he isn’t even doing anything! Other than being gross with a tissue paper and inedible fries, which should absolutely turn you off from ever liking anything about him, but it does the opposite.

That is another thing about him – he’s too freaking smooth and sexy about every damn thing in his life. The day his hair turned from black to blue, nearly two years back, he developed all these flirty charms on top of his kind ones. Now he isn’t just an insanely handsome dude who’d hold your hand to help you cross the road, but he’d also freaking wink at you when you thank him for his kindness.

You as in a person, not – not you. He’d never wink at you, you're too friendzoned for that. And it's kind of a blessing because you’d probably run the risk of jumping back into oncoming traffic if he did.

Wow.

You can’t count on one hand the number of times you have had to tug on the reins of your heart when it’s tried to take a flight, jumping off the cliff of your very inconvenient crush and into the bottomless abyss of having actual romantic feelings for him. Because that would be catastrophic. And not just because you fear he'd reject you and you’d lose the one person who means the most to you in the world.

“Should I get more burgers?”

Your gaze snaps to him in surprise. He’s pouting again, this time looking at the greasy fingerprints laden menu card kept on your table. The anxiety that had started to churn in your stomach at the prospect of your very concerning crush turning into something more, suddenly leaves and you huff out a small laugh.

“You’ve had six in the past hour, Jjun. I’d say stop for the night, maybe?”

“Hey, I have a big appetite!” He scowls at you. “And it’s close to midnight, already! You know I begin my diet for the season from tomorrow!”

You groan. “Well, then, why did you ask?”

“To be encouraged, of course! To be comforted.” He widens his eyes and blinks at you. “Or did you forget I’m also supposed to be nursing a broken heart?”

The groan you release at that is loud, drawn out and filled with a year’s worth of exasperation. This is the other reason why you catching romantic feelings for him would be catastrophic. His emotional quotient is seriously questionable when it comes to the matters of heart. If he could love a partner half as much as he loves dogs, maybe he wouldn’t be ‘nursing a heartbreak’ because of the fifth person that has dumped him since your final year began. And you aren’t even done with your mid-sems yet.

But you don't tell him that, instead patting on his leather jacket clad forearm with a fake sympathetic expression. “Ah, yes, poor you. My deepest condolences to your heart.”

He knows you and your bullshit and you know he does, so the attack that his hands launch at your throat in the next two seconds doesn't surprise you, and your defensively raised shoulders don't surprise him.

You're both dissolving into giggles, then, having nothing short of a wrestling match across the small cafe table. "I really liked Lea, okay?"

"Oh yeah? You didn't even—oof, that tickles! You didn't even know she was Kai's sister!"

At that he lets go of you and slumps back in his seat with a scowl. "Please don't remind me. I still worry he's gonna stab me in my sleep someday…"

You place a palm over your mouth to stifle your laugh. "To be fair, Lea shouldn't have been indulging in puck bunny behavior if she didn't want to be treated like one."

"Don't say that wo~rd," Yeonjun whines with his whole head thrown back. "She's Kai's sister! And she's younger than me!"

"Just by four months! Stop being dramatic, Jjun. She's a junior at college – she knew what she was doing."

Yeonjun doesn't look convinced. "I mean… I don't think she was with me only because I'm hockey captain. She knows all of HK's friends personally."

You wonder why he is defending her. Did he actually, genuinely like the girl? Romantically? What are the odds of Yeonjun finally making an attempt to open his heart up to someone and them ending up dumping him? He doesn't really look that dumped, though, so you figure that this must be out of some misplaced protectiveness he feels for one of his best friend's sisters.

Man should've thought of that before he dated her. Sigh.

"Yeah, which makes it worse." You wince when he frowns. "Come on, Jjun. She's known you since middle school but decides to make a move now? Only to break it off in three weeks because others are 'slut-shaming' her”—you make air-quotes around the term, rolling your eyes—“when they call her out for wearing another guy's jersey in preseason when she's supposed to be dating you. Can't tell me that's not manipulative and experienced puck bunny behavior."

Yeonjun’s eyes are wide when you finish speaking. “What…?”

“She didn't have feelings for you, Jjun! I mean, you obviously didn't have any for her either, but I hope you keep it that way with these girls. I highly doubt Lea even tried to get to know you at all, given how busy she was posting pictures of y'all on all her socials." His expressions haven't changed much, so you try to conclude your point quickly. “All I'm saying is, it is actually a good thing you’ve never taken these relationships too seriously. There’s more business than emotion with these clout chasers, Jjun.”

Yeonjun is gaping at you now and you're a little confused as to how to take it. Is he surprised at the revelation about Lea? You doubt that to be the case when the entire tale of their romance had been broadcasted all over the campus this past week.

So then…is he surprised at your opinion of things? You sure hope he isn't about to pick a fight with you because you're in no mood to concede. Not about this. Not when you've died multiple deaths every minute that Lea has spent being a pick-me by your best friend's side.

"I… She did have feelings for me, Y/N. They—the girls that I date all have some feelings for me, come on." He gives a small chuckle that is so wry, it makes you fidget in discomfort. “I haven’t taken these relationships that casually. I'm – I’m not some vain playboy, sleeping my way around the college.”

Okay, hold on – what?

What?

How did he take that away from your rant? He's really defending himself when you never even attacked him? When you never would attack him?

"Yeonjun, no… That's not what I'm trying—"

"Let's – let's just drop this." He looks distressed, and the frown on his lips makes your heart hurt. More so because you are the one who put it there. "You won't get it, anyways."

Now that – gives you a pause. "I won't…get it?"

He gets up, unbothered and unabashed, and walks with his tray of empty wrappers and inedible fries to dump it into the trash can near the exit of the cafe. You wordlessly follow, tilting your head in an attempt to catch his eye, but Yeonjun's got some 5 inches on you so you can't really force him to look at you when he doesn't want to.

And now he's walking out of the cafeteria.

"Jjun?"

He sighs and stops, looking over his shoulder, straight into your eyes with a bored stare. "What?"

"What? You're, like, not even gonna explain that last sentence?" 

This time you're the one with the wry chuckle while Yeonjun fidgets in discomfort. 

"What won't I get, Yeonjun?"

"Look, it's… well. You’ve always subtly looked down upon all the girls I’ve dated in college, and that was fine. You’re my best friend, you’re allowed to be a critic.” He shrugs with a nonchalant look in his eyes, but his lips are still twisted sourly. “But… I never realized you thought I was the problem. Someone so vapid that my only appeal is the fame hockey gets me.”

No… literally when did you insinuate that?

You're rendered mute, taken aback by how badly Yeonjun seems to have interpreted your words. He exhales and it sounds very loaded. You don't miss the way he keeps avoiding your gaze; nor the disappointed frown that decorates his forehead.

“You won’t get it because you don’t want me, you’ve never wanted me – and that is absolutely cool! But just because you like to have me as a comedic relief character in your life doesn’t mean that no one sees any depth in me.”

“A… comedic relief character?” your voice comes out low and hoarse and almost tattered, a little shrilly from disbelief. You're not even gonna touch on his 'never wanted him' claim because the rest of his speech has your brain actually spinning. “What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t about you – it’s about these girls… You’re my best friend, Yeonjun!”

“And yet you can’t find one reason why these girls would like me beyond using me for clout.” He gives a shrug and finally meets your eyes again. But his stare is absolutely vacant and unreadable. “You don’t use me for clout, though, and yet you keep me around. You obviously don’t care about my opinions, or you wouldn't have exchanged numbers with Changbin when I told you he was bad news. What else is there to our friendship other than laughing together, then?”

His words are like death blows – each syllable laced with a different kind of poison. Every inhale you take from the air his words have contaminated seems to sear a painful path through your lungs. Breathing hurts. Looking at him hurts. Your eyes are filling up and your tummy is aching.

There’s so much wrong with everything he just said, so much misinterpretation, so many actual blatant untruths, that you don’t even know how to begin correcting them. 

How did you even get here?

You’d only been trying to warn him about girls that might use him. You were only trying to protect his heart.

How did that turn into him thinking you don’t value your friendship with him? That you don’t value him?

“Oh, and by the way,” he continues, pushing both hands into his leather jacket and looking into the distance, “Changbin’s probably gonna ask you to cheer for him this season, which is kind of a big deal because… you know, this out final session and there will be professional scouts present and all. So if you decide to say yes…” He pauses and turns to look at you again, gaze tired and eyes lidded. “If you say yes, I hope you know it’ll mean a lot more.”

Why is he bringing up Changbin again? You’d only exchanged numbers to get that guy's incessant ass off your back – you haven’t even responded to a single text he’s sent you in the past two months. Cheering for him? In a season as important to their careers as this one? 

Absolutely out of the question.

Does Yeonjun not know you at all?

You’re about to tell him that, when he suddenly pulls his phone out with a sigh. “I’m planning to hand my jersey over to Chaeyoung – you know, running for senior cheer captain? Thought I’d ask for your opinion, but… You’ve already made that pretty clear tonight.”

Angry tears blur your vision and your heart hurts as if it’s dying a slow death in your chest.

Chaeyoung, really? So he’s skipping seamlessly from Lea to Chaeyoung. 

Of course. 

Why did you even bother worrying about his heart when he clearly doesn’t even have one. How could you forget.

Maybe it’s a good thing you never let yourself fall for Yeonjun beyond a crush.

“For what it’s worth,” you finally manage to mutter, brows furrowed and gaze focused on your worn out sneakers, “I’m sorry. I was trying to look out for you, not – not hurt you. You’re the most important person in my life, Yeonjun. I could never hurt you.”

You don’t wanna wait around to hear his response, so you just wordlessly walk away. Your dorms are hardly half a mile from here; you can shut yourself in your room and sob into your pillow in less than twenty minutes from now.

The fact comforts you enough to make you walk faster.

And also helps you ignore the pain that runs across your entire body when Yeonjun doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

You haven’t checked your phone in a while now but it has to have been over six am currently because you can hear your roommate moving around. Stealthily, you pull the comforter down from your face to peer into the dark room, only to hear a loud sigh echo around the place.

“You’re seriously still up?” Yuqi’s disappointed voice calls out. “The crying sounds stopped sometime after four so I reckoned you fell asleep.”

You wince in guilt. “Fuck, Yuqi, I’m so sorry I kept you awake—”

“Woah, what?”

She turns the lights on, suddenly brightening the room. Your roommate’s dressed in her cheer outfit, probably on her way to early morning practice. She is running for captain as well and the voting concludes in five days.

Cheer captain… Chaeyoung…

You can feel another bout of tears coming on, the back of your raw eyes stinging anew. Your head is pounding like someone’s cracked your skull open, but it still doesn't hold a candle to the ache that originates from your heart and makes your entire chest cave in on itself.

“Oh my God, babe, you look worse than you sound!”

You click your tongue and rub at your eyes. “I… Ugh, it’s been a weird night, Yuqi.”

She kneels beside you on the floor, face drawn in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” You try to sit up with her help. “I guess?”

“Oh, babe…” Yuqi sits next to you and draws you in an embrace. “What happened?”

“Y–Yeonjun,” you can barely articulate his name before your throat closes up again.

“Ah, man. What’d the idiot do this time?”

Yuqi has been your roommate and your closest friend since freshman year. Needless to say, she knows all about your friendship with Yeonjun and more than a little about your crush on him. She believes he’s too oblivious and doesn’t particularly like him for that reason. More often than not, you’re batting for his defense against Yuqi.

Right now, though, you feel like you’re gonna agree with every colorful word she uses for the guy.

So you tell her exactly what happened – give her a play by play of all the words said and reactions given, receiving hisses and grunts of annoyance in response, until you mention what he said about Changbin and Yuqi breaks your narration with a gasp.

“What the fuck?”

You just sigh and shrug a shoulder. “And he’s picking Chaeyoung to to wear his jersey for the most important season of his life, so I guess it’s whatever.”

“You know, it seemed to me like he was upset and acted out defensively… which would have been okay to a certain point, a misunderstanding that could be cleared out – had he not pulled that Changbin card. Why would he ask you to go after a teammate?” Yuqi tugs at the end of her ponytail in frustration. “And Chaeyoung? Literally the enemy? Now he's just an asshole.”

That last bit makes a small chuckle tumble out of you. “How… how is she, though? As a person?”

It’s so stupid of you to still attempt to look out for Yeonjun when he just dismissed your whole friendship. But you cannot help it.

“She’s… not a bad person, to be honest. As much as it pains me to admit.” Yuqi sighs. “She’s friends with the entire cheer team, friendly with the players, never been a bully to anybody. Hence why she’s running for captain alongside me.”

Should that comfort you? You believe it should. You warned your best friend about girls that might try to use him – and Chaeyoung sounds like she might not be that kind of a person. That’s good news, right?

So why does your heart seem to ache even more?

“Everything just...hurts, Yuqi. So much.” You tip your head against her shoulder. “What do I do?”

“Admit to yourself that you don’t just have aa crush on Yeonjun, for starters?”

You turn to look at her with surprised wide eyes. “What?”

Yuqi just rolls her eyes. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t move on if you don’t admit to it first, can you?”

Move on…?

Is that what you have to do now? Maybe. 

If you want to attempt to salvage any bit of your bond with Yeonjun, it’s best if you at least get rid of the affection that permeates the boundaries of platonic friendship.

“And then maybe text Changbin back,” Yuqi continues. “He’s their goalie. I’ve talked to him a couple of times, he’s nice. Kinda cute? If nothing else, he'll help take your mind off of Yeonjun and Chaeyoung.

You just exhale a deep breath. “Maybe.”

16:37 | changbin (: congratulations to yuqi! tell her i knew she would make it :D

↪ Haha thanks! Will do!

soooo our first match’s three days away kinda wanted to ask u something before that meet me at the lockers after practice today lol?

↪ Oh it’s Monday already right? ↪ I’ll see you at the lockers, sure! ↪ How does around 7 sound?

perfect~~ just like your eyes >.<

“Ew, man, ewww…”

You press your phone to your chest with a gasp, turning to glare at Yuqi. “Hey! It’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder!”

“No, what’s ruder is you not telling me how cringey this guy is!” Yuqi is very close to rolling on the floor, and you really can’t blame her. 

You’ve been texting back and forth with this Changbin guy for over a week now. He’s definitely nice and definitely more than a little cute, Yuqi didn’t lie to you. 

But – the way this dude flirts? Good God. 

Cringe must be an understatement. You have permanent goosebumps at this point because of how often you experience full body shivers out of the absolute secondhand embarrassment he has made you live through, every single day.

On the other hand, there's been radio silence between you and… him. Your best friend. His name sends a painful pang through your chest, so you've been avoiding even thinking about him. And Changbin's been a great distraction on that front.

That is not to say it has helped any feelings to blossom in your heart for the guy. His sweet but cringey self is a friend, at best. Your heart…is obviously elsewhere.

Things became so much clearer once you let yourself think everything over without any pressure and pretense, and admit to what you feel for your best friend, like Yuqi suggested.

Turns out you were wrong, after all. You really haven't succeeded at managing to stop yourself from falling further than a harmless crush for Yeonjun, because this constant hurt that has made home in your chest ever since he stopped talking to you? The wave of gloom that overtakes you whenever you so much as think about him? Surely a lot more harmful than what a crush warrants and surely surpassing best friend territory; by a leap.

The next step was attempting to move on with the help of Changbin, but that clearly fell flat on its face.

Exhaling a tired breath, you send a blushing emoticon back to the guy, and wonder why you're responding to his flirting when you know you've already failed and this is gonna end in tragedy.

“He sends you congratulations for making captain, by the way," you inform Yuqi when she's finally stopped giggling.

“Aw, did he say that was cool? As cool as your hair, maybe?”

You just groan and roll your eyes. “I’m gonna go see him tonight. He’ll probably offer me his jersey…”

That sobers Yuqi up. “Oh. So it’s time, huh? What’re you gonna tell him?”

You give her a wry smile. “What do you think?”

Understanding flashes across her face as Yuqi pats your shoulder in comfort with a sympathetic smile. “Well… At least you tried, yeah?”

Yeah… and failed spectacularly.

And are now hopelessly in love and helplessly heartbroken.

The locker rooms are nearly empty when you get there by seven. According to Changbin's text, he'll be there in the next five minutes and you are to wait by the rows immediately opposite the entrance to the bathrooms.

For a men's locker, the place is fairly clean and pleasant smelling. 

You're in the middle of inhaling a chest full of some citrusy fragrance when the pitter-patter of a feet reaches you – and then abruptly stops. The small gasp that meets your ears before you've even fully turned around is enough for you to recognise him. 

Why're you bumping into him here of all places?

He's been a ghost around the campus, as absent from your shared classes and the cafeteria as he is from your inbox – your life. 

But here he shows up – to catch you waiting for a guy he's always warned you against and only told you to accept when he was mad at you.

You're beginning to regret this whole thing you began with Changbin even though you're here to end it tonight.

Swallowing, you swerve on your heels to come face to face with a freshly showered Yeonjun, dressed in a fluffy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, head filling up with thoughts of burying yourself in his embrace. His hair isn't fully dried yet, with some of it sticking to his forehead, but…what draws your attention is how gaunt and tired his face looks. 

There are large purple bags beneath his eyes and permanent frown lines around his lips. You're willing to bet this is not all due to the season's stress, because the last time you saw Yeonjun with dark circles was when you came down with a bad flu in high school and were bedridden for a week. He stayed by your side the whole time, despite both your mothers warning him about catching the infection, and barely slept.

You know it's a little unfair of you to think this way when you're the one that hurt him first, even if unintentionally, but you can't help wondering whether Yeonjun would still care if you caught a flu now. Would he even bother checking up on you, now that he's made it clear that he believes you don't think much of him and your friendship.

Does he still value you and your bond, despite the conclusions he's drawn about your feelings?

"What are you… oh."

Those are his first words to you in over a week, and the absolute disappointment on his face kinda makes up for the lack of verbal cues.

Your fists tighten on your sides, hating the way his eyes fill up with nonchalance and the way his lips purse. Why's he acting like he doesn't care? He should care!

But at the same time, you don't want him to think of you even worse than he has been. So you clear your throat and try to explain, "I've… I'm gonna clear things out with Changbin. Tell him I'm not interested so that he doesn't – he doesn't hope for anything more."

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow up, setting his jaw and lowering his eyelids. "You're good at that, aren't you? Ensuring that people aren't living with false hopes?"

Hearing his voice after so long fills your heart up with an emotion you're probably too inarticulate to explain. But his words, as snidely delivered as they are, confuse you. "What…?"

Rolling his eyes as if explaining himself to you is a waste of time for him, Yeonjun waves a hand in dismissal. "Nothing at all. He'll be heartbroken, though. Was really counting on you cheering for him. Are you absolutely sure you're not interested?"

His patronizing tone is a little too much for you, and even the lower pitch of voice he's using – one that you have always secretly fawned over – isn't able to curb your frustration. "Yes, Yeonjun, I'm sure. He'll live, he'll find someone else." And because you're beginning to feel irritated and jealous, you add, "If his second choice isn't Chaeyoung, that is."

You see the way a vein pops in his forehead and a sense of satisfaction runs through you at having struck a nerve. "Oh, so you've got words to say about Chaeyoung too, then? I thought you'd let her pass because she's famous enough by herself. Cheer vice captain, and all."

He's throwing you bait to rile you up, you know that – but you can't help the fiery fury that overtakes your senses either way.

Stalking up to him, you push a finger against Yeonjun's chest and glare into his wide, surprised eyes. "If you really think she's interested in you for you, go ahead and date her. Don't goad me into giving an opinion when you won't even care about it."

He brings a large hand up to wrap around yours, holding it tight in obvious anger. "Like you care about mine?"

"I'm literally here to say no to Changbin, Jjun! What the hell is your problem?" you yell out, pushing at his chest with your free hand – but to no avail because he holds your other wrist with his other hand as well.

"My problem is that you're saying no because you think this is beneath you!" he yells back, leaning from his towering form to bring his face to the same level as yours. "You think my girlfriends, my lifestyle – everything's beneath you!"

Your mouth falls open in utter shock because once again – this was never about him! "Yeonjun – no! For the last time, no, I don't think that! I don't think you're vain or unlikable, or that anything you do is beneath me, I just – I just fear someone will break your heart if you're not careful!"

"Is that so? You're not judgemental of the girls I date? Didn't you call Lea a – a puck bunny?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" you scream back and lean towards him, leaving barely inches between both of your fuming, frowning faces. "I was just getting metaphorical and, hell, maybe I was jealous because you've never asked me to cheer for—fuck…"

Panicked, you pull away from Yeonjun's loosened grasp, looking away from his raised eyebrows and open mouth.

You did not mean to say that. Not like this, not now… maybe never.

Face heating up like a damn furnace, you stumble away from your frozen best friend in a hurry. If he thought you were sabotaging your friendship before, he's going to absolutely hate you for harboring feelings for him. It's a blatant breach of his trust.

Shit, you should've begun to distance yourself when you first felt the tender tendrils of affection for the cutest fourteen year old guy you'd ever seen. You shouldn't have let those feelings fester – you shouldn't have let them grown into this beast that now stands to swallow your years' long friendship.

Tears prick your eyes, but there's no time to mourn right now – you need to get back to your dorm and bury yourself beneath a pillow before that.

But you've barely made it to the gates to the locker room when a firm hand grips your upper arm from behind and twirls you around. Back pressing into the wall, a gasp is torn from your chest when Yeonjun's huge, twinkling eyes cage you in. His arms resting on the wall next to you are completely unnecessary; you'd stand still through an apocalypse if he pinned you with this gaze of his.

"What…what do you mean you were jealous I never asked you?" he breathlessly questions, literal stars sparkling through his dark irises at you.

Now. If you were not adept at reading your best friend like a book, maybe you would have wondered if coming clean right now would make his eyes brighter or dim them instead. Maybe you would have debated whether lying your way out of this situation and apologizing later would be a good idea. Maybe you would have ducked from under his arms and made a run for it.

But because you have known this boy for more than seven years now, have observed every single expression of happiness and excitement that his face is capable of producing, have admired how adorable hope and anticipation looks on him – because you've loved him since the time you could barely even understand what love meant…you have no reason to doubt.

"I mean I wanted you to ask me, Jjunie. I wanted to be the one that'd be by your side, wearing your jersey and cheering from the stands for you," your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, but Yeonjun clings onto every single word, given the stutters you can hear in his breathing. "I… I wanted you to look at me when you scored, point at me and tell everyone around us that…"

Your gaze flickers down his face, running across his nose to land on his parted, plump pair of lips. They spread a little to allow an airy chuckle to pass, and then form a wispy, questioning: "That?"

He's moved incredibly close to you, nearly touching your foreheads together and leaving an inch of space between your mouths. You look up into his eyes and they are hooded, spilling happiness, adoration but also something sincere.

"That," you rasp quietly, slowly in the small space between you, "that I'm your girl."

Yeonjun's exhale of minty toothpaste breath washes over your face, forehead tipping over yours and nose sliding against yours. When he speaks next, his lips brush the corner of your mouth and your body grows taut like a bowstring, ready to snap at the barest flick of his hands.

"Are you my girl?"

His voice has gotten incredibly lower and guttural and you just bring your hands up to clench into the fabric of his hoodie to ground yourself. Your eyes slide shut against the intensity of his own, breaths coming shorter and faster.

"I'd – I'd like to be. If…you'd have me?"

"Of fuck, baby, don't you know you've always owned me?"

You barely get a moment to process the term of endearment and the acceptance, let alone the actual depth and true implication of his words, when the softest pairs of lips you have ever felt brush against yours. Tentatively, so lightly that they almost tickle. Gasping in an exhale, you part your eyelids to find Yeonjun looking at you through a similarly shuttered gaze.

"Can I kiss you?" 

Oh God, oh God, oh God—

“Yes, please.”

The words have barely exited you before Yeonjun is erasing any remaining space between you completely by pressing his mouth fully against yours. His lips feel even more softer than they look, molding against yours like a pair of clouds. Combined exhales of relief leave the two of you, breathing just as in sync as your bodies are. Your hands move from his jacket to run across his broad shoulders and your fingers wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

As if waiting for you to do just that, Yeojun guides both his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to him, before one of them detours to run past your waist and down your thigh to hook around your knee. His mouth opens against yours, then, teeth biting into the flesh of your bottom lip. With a shuddering gasp, you hold onto him tighter and allow him to lick into your mouth, lost in the taste and feel of him.

His hand grips onto your leg to lift it from the ground and wrap it around his thigh, allowing him to slot his hips against yours perfectly. You can feel yourself spiraling, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the heady rush of electricity that zaps through you with every pull of Yeonjun's lips. When you begin to grow breathless, his lips detach from yours to slip down your chin and press against your throat.

A mixture of gasp and whine escapes you, making his grip on you tighten and his lips turn bolder in their exploration of your neck. You feel his teeth scraping over your collarbone and shivers run through you, causing your back to arch and press further into his body. He groans against your skin and runs his hand up your leg to caress the delicate skin of your thigh.

You realise this is getting kind of out of hand because you've just confessed your feelings and you're still in the damn locker room, but your eyes can't help but clench shut as your fingers tug on his silky soft hair, silently asking him to keep going. 

But Yeonjun is far more in control of the situation than you are, given the way he turns his kisses from hungry to chaste, slowly. Pressing a closed mouth peck to your cheek, he rearranges his grip on you to pick you up with his hands beneath your thighs, and carries you to a bench. He sits down and drapes your legs over his own to make you straddle him, holding you firmly but softly in place.

He plants a soft, sweet kiss to your lips and rests his forehead against yours. Your eyelids part to the blurry sight of his shining eyes. It takes you a moment to realise you have tears in your eyes – and that he does as well.

With the softest smile that you have ever seen on him, Yeonjun brings a thumb up to your face and flicks at the corner of your eye.

"I've liked you ever since high school, you know?"

Your lashes flutter in fascination. "Really? But you never… you always…"

His cheeks grow pink when you scrunch your nose up instead of finishing the sentence, and he shuts his eyes. "You just never really showed any interest… You never looked jealous or bothered by my love life."

"I was being a good friend!" You chuckle when he rolls his eyes. "Besides, I had plenty to say about the girls you dated?"

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, still looking at you with a soft gaze, but his lips have twitched into a devastating smirk. "But you never said I could date you instead."

A blast of heat flushes your entire face at his words. Remember when you said he never flirted with you and you were grateful for that? Yeah, you still stand by that. Your heart's racing so fast, it's a wonder it hasn't malfunctioned yet. Yeonjun reads your face, too, and pecks your nose with a giggle .

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to figure it out, baby," he then whispers to you, sounding so forlorn that the sound of his voice, especially with that pet name, makes you wanna cry again. "I should've realized you were jealous…"

"I'm sorry, too, Jjun," you whisper back, hands coming up to play with the drawstrings of his hoodie that your eyes focus on as well, suddenly hesitant to meet his open gaze. "I wasn't careful about my words and hurt you. I was a bad friend."

He chuckles at that, which draws your eyes back to his own again. "To be honest, I was more hurt because your words made me conclude that you would never like me back. So you literally don't have to apologize at all."

A smile blooms on your face. "Can I kiss it better, then?"

"Oh, you can always kiss it better, baby." Teeth flashing and eyes squinting, Yeonjun nuzzles into your neck, full of giggles that you mirror as well.

Right then, a call of your name resounds across the locker rooms.

Wait…

Fuck.

Changbin!

Yeonjun's wide eyes look at you with questions. You just sigh and shrug your shoulders.

"Back here, Bin!"

"Bin?" Yeonjun raises an eyebrow with his eyes narrowed, making you stifle a giggle.

"Should I try Binnie, then?" 

He gasps in outrage, threatening to bite into your cheek, while you lean away to escape him, still suppressing your laughter.

Footsteps echo across the hall before a gasp is heard at the end of the aisle you're seated next to. Changbin stands rooted to his place, mouth agape and eyes wide. You've corrected yourself in your seat, but – your seat's still kinda Yeonjun's lap.

"I… um?"

You purse your lips in apology. "I'm sorry, Bin. I can't accept your jersey."

"I… can see that, I guess…"

To his credit, Changbin doesn't look a lot upset. Just very confused. You decide to try and help him.

"I can, however, get you Song Yuqi's number if you want?"

Instant fireworks explode in his eyes. "What? The – the cheer captain, Song Yuqi?"

"Mm hm. Cheer captain, my friend, my roommate. You know, the one."

"Wow, Y/N, that'd be so cool, man! Thank you!"

And then Changbin's hopping his way out of there without another word. Yeonjun breaks into laughter the moment he's out of sight.

"Poor guy kept asking me if it was okay to approach you and I kept saying we're just friends. He must be so confused, right now…"

You look at the boy who's still cradling you in his lap. "So. We're not just friends anymore, I hope."

He tightens his grip around your waist, eyes doing that thing where they switch from being rounded to suddenly narrowed and intense. "That depends. Do you kiss your just friends like that?"

You nudge his nose with your own, heart thumping at the intensity of his dark eyes and the reality of your changing dynamics with him. "Only the ones I intend to do more with."

Yeonjun's eyes widen in surprise and then narrow further with mischief. "Is that so, baby? Well, how about I take you to a nice dinner date tonight and then we can discuss what more can happen later, hm?"

"I'd like that very, very much." Swallowing past the lump of emotions that suddenly lodges in your throat, you bite your bottom lip and smile. 

He smiles back, but then brings a thumb up to tug your lip free. "Don't bite your lip, baby. You've got me to do that for you, now."

And then he kisses you again.

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[pluralescentmoon]

as promised, the "pearl is a system who doesn't know it (yet)" propoganda totally-an-essay for @thecoolerliauditore

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTER. NONE OF THIS IS ABOUT CC!PEARL. I ALSO DO NOT THINK SHE'S DOING THIS INTENTIONALLY. this is just how I'm choosing to interpret her character, because it makes things a LOT more interesting. this also works under the assumption that life series pearl and Hermitcraft pearl are the same character, so if that's not your vibe, that's fine! this is just your warning. I am also not saying all alters in every system has specific roles, or triggers. and if you dont know what im referring to at any point in this post, please let me know! I'm just trying to explain my thought process in a clear and concise way, even for those who don't know specific details about those under the plurality umbrella.

mild wild life spoilers ahead as well! you've been warned!

so! pearl has a bit of an unusual habit of how she refers to herself. she tends to do it in parts. she gives them identities, names. roles. example of this being, post master pearl, the cleaning lady, scarlet pearl, editor pearl (yes this one too i PROMISE I promise it'll make sense). each of these are like specific "characters". they're masks she puts on, to play the part of that specific pearl. they have their purpose, their roles, their clothes (separate skins). each of them are similar, but still unique and distinct from each other.

each one of these pearls has a purpose, a specific role they play in her life. they're specifically called upon for their tasks. for certain things, there's a pearl for it. it's almost as if these pearls have triggers that pull them out for specific reasons that seem important to helping their shared body…

an example of this is, there was a point recently in Pearl's season 10 where she was rebuilding her storage room. and, she found herself in a familiar set of clothes. taking care of the mess, as the cleaning lady. which leads to interesting implications! c!pearl feeling like she needs to change into another set of clothes to do something like organizing her chest, and call herself a specific title while doing so

cc!pearl has even said she sees her character as having phases (like the moon lol). and that she likes wearing specific skins (clothes) for them.

I think these specific pearls, these segregated parts of pearl, are her alters. alters that have specific clothes they prefer to wear, triggers to pull them to the front, and roles they fill in the system.

now that brings up the question, what are their roles exactly?

we'll start with the easy ones!

Normal Hermitcraft Pearl - Host. the silly. she's a goofy gal, the one we see the most. she's also given these other parts of herself names, based on the tasks that they carry out. she just thinks she's putting on a few different masks for each of these characters, and does not realize what's going on at all.

Post Master Pearl - this would be the one who works in the post office, the one who wants to deliver the mail. she's their work alter! she mainly does stuff with the mail system, including building the top part of some mailboxes or retrieving the lost parcels

Cleaning Lady - this one feels pretty self explanatory. she likes to clean and organize, and I think she could be contributed to a caretaker, as I'm going to contribute the SOUP thing to her, since it was season 9 more than anything else. she's here to clean and make sure they have good meals, but gets stressed about it sometimes. she also absolutely has nightmares about Grian's storage prank lol

Scarlet Pearl - abandonment/trust issues given form, scarlet would be a protector/trauma holder. we saw her forming in double life! she's the reason pearl seems to go from being fine with Scott, to snarking him. i think host pearl is, consciously or not, trying to suppress scarlet pearl from fronting in wild life, as host pearl does want to be friends with scott again… because she doesn't remember the extent of her trauma from double life. not the full of it anyways.

I have a lot of thoughts about protector scarlet pearl ngl but we'll get back to that. there's one more alter to talk about first.

I also have some thoughts about her having a Santa Perla introject because of Sausage's influence, but that one is less solid. still, she gets an honorable mention.

and now the biggest one. somehow the silliest one, and also the one I feel the strongest about. editor pearl.

editor pearl is of course, a silly OOC joke… but the implications of her existing are so very interesting. if we take the videos to be how pearl remembers things, if we take them as how she would tell things to others, then this means there's things that are purposefully… cut out of what she remembers. things that change context, or that are even almost… too much to remember. it's like she has someone there, taking snippets of her memories away. making her forget them, making her retell events in different ways than others.

that's what editor pearl is.

editor pearl is the alter that takes care of their memories. she cuts out the parts she doesn't want pearl to remember, because they're too traumatizing, they arent important, or she doesn't sees them as worth remembering.

this affects how pearl sees not only herself, but everyone else around her. conversations are forgotten by her, but not by the other side. the way certain memories are framed change drastically when you can only remember the parts that someone else WANTS you to remember. editor pearl is a memory holder, who just wants to help their system out by keeping the Good parts. she's gives pearl what she thinks pearl will want to remember, which means pearl only tells the parts editor pearl approves of.

I think, with everything going on in wild life, pearl is well on her way to discovering just what's going on inside her mind. whether she wants to, or not. scarlet pearl can only be held back for so long, and pearl has been doing that for two sessions now.

oh, sure, scarlet was allowed to snark in the first episode. but the second episode, comparing it to Cleo's POV… there's things missing. things cut out. entire conversations left completely out of Pearl's version of the story.

I think editor Pearl and scarlet pearl are working together a bit. cut out the memories of scarlet saying she wants to throw up at the idea of being family. and so many other little lines. cut it all out, make it easier to remember, easier to deal with.

because, after all, they just want to do their jobs. they just want to help, to make life more bearable. to make everything okay. host may not want them to, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her…

but this isn't built to last. not with host pearl keeping scarlet locked away as tightly as she is. sooner or later, something has to give. and sooner or later, they'll figure out what's going on. I have a feeling it's going to be messy, because pearl (scarlet) doesn't like feeling like people thinks she's crazy. and this will only make her feel crazy before the end.

but it can't last the way it has been. eventually, something is gonna break. or, maybe instead someone.

this isnt going to go well for host pearl.

[promenadewithme]

Happy Sappy Hormones

a/n: I know, I know. I've been away for a while. but I have my last final next week and after that I'm turning off med head and turning on writer mode! I've been watching criminal minds and I'm only on s2, but I already have this MASSIVE crush on Spencer Reid. So here's a little blurb I wrote recently. It's not proofread, so forgive me for any mistakes. Pairing: Spencer Read x profiler! you (no use of y/n) Warnings: slightly smutty, but nothing graphic. next chapter is going to be graphic af. um.. let me think... one bed trope, overnight stay at an in, pre-sex, all that tension (at least I aimed for it lol) and pining. Word Count: I have no idea

Am I sweating? I think I’m sweating. How the hell am I supposed to sleep next to this man? Fuck this stupid inn for having only one room with one bed. How cliche of them.

I peek at him and he’s looking up, head against the wall. Spencer swallows, throat bobbing up and down. He has such a nice profile, sharp nose and jawline, the most pronounced cheekbones you will ever see in real life, brows that always seem to be furrowed in thought, pillowy lips that I can’t help but picture against my own. And that hair… Those fluffy chocolate waves that beg for my fingers to mess up.

He’s soft but manly. Angelic heart with a dark mind. 

I rake my eyes across his face once more and notice that a bit of a stubble has grown since this morning. What would that feel like brushing against my neck? Better yet, what would they feel like between my thighs while he-

Nope, too far. I have gone too far.

A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks. Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now.

“Did you know that sharing a bed is actually good for your health?” he blurbs out, still looking at the ceiling. 

So he’s uncomfortable too. Great.

“How so?” I ask, playing with the hem of my shirt.

“It releases serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin.” he states matter of factly.

“The golden trio of happy sappy hormones.” I quip.

“Something like that” he smirks, giving me a quick look before continuing. “Our pituitary glands transform serotonin into melatonin, which is the hormone that controls our sleep. That’s why cuddling in general makes you sleepy. Serotonin is also known as the ‘happy hormone’ because it’s a mood stabiliser, but it’s more than that. It regulates body temperature, improves memory and aids learning.”

I feel Spencer’s body slowly relax into the mattress as he speaks, so I spur him on.

“Is that so?” I say, trying to hide how much his intelligence affects me.

This man could open a book on gut microbiota, read it to me outloud and it would still be like dirty talk to me. 

“Yes.” he smiles timidly and scooches closer, turning his body in my direction.

 “What about dopamine?” I ask before I let my mind wander again.

“Dopamine is the reward chemical, it’s the rush you feel when you get a good grade or when you eat or sleep.And it’s um…” he pauses and starts playing with the sheets between us “It’s also released when you’re sexually attracted to someone.”

“Oh.” I say in almost a whisper. I must be releasing a lot of that lately.

“Yeah.” he says, taking the hem of my shirt from my grasp and toying with it himself. “It also causes our body's physiological reaction to attraction.”

His finger brushes against my stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake and making my pulse skyrocket. 

“Which reactions?” I ask but the air seems too shallow, there’s not enough oxygen in my lungs.

He finally looks at me and my breathing stops. His hazel eyes bore into mine like they can see my soul. I’m afraid he knows how much I want him, I’m afraid he’ll see how much I wish he would drift his hand further down until he reaches the part of me that wants him the most.

He lifts his hand to my face and trails a shaky finger down my cheek and neck before saying “Like blushing,” his hand trails softly down my arm and my skin pebbles up where he touched “Goosebumps,” he makes it to my wrist and presses down on my artery “quickened heartbeat,” he bows his head and kisses my hand softly, never taking his eyes from mine “the effect of dopamine is obsessive and almost drug-like, you can’t stay away from the person you love and you don’t want to either.”

I can’t breathe. I feel myself shifting closer to him and my attention is fully on his lips. Those lips that never stop moving and I never want them to. Except, right now, I want them moving against mine. 

“What about oxytocin?” I whisper, forcing myself to look at his eyes, his gorgeous hazel eyes. 

“The love hormone.” he mumbles, bringing his hand to my neck while his thumb strokes my cheek. “It’s released in mothers during labour and when in contact with their newborn, but also during sex.”

We are so close that I can see the faint freckles that dust his nose, I’d never noticed them before.

“Any benefits?” I ask, spreading my hands on his chest. He’s so warm.

His voice is low and husky when he answers. 

“Lowers your blood pressure and cortisol levels,” his nose brushes against mine and I look at his lips again “reduces stress.”

“That’s um…” What was I saying again? His lips brush against mine once. Twice. “That’s nice.”

He dips down once more and captures my lips in a slow kiss, like he’s testing the waters. I sigh and my arms make their way around his neck. Spencer darts his tongue out and takes a quick swipe at my bottom lip, I let him in. When his tongue brushes against mine tentatively, his chest rumbles with his low groan and I sink into his arms. 

He grabs my left leg and throws it over his hips so I’m straddling him. I feel his erection between my legs and moan into the kiss. My hands go up to his hair and his locks are even softer than I thought they would be. 

I pull back only slightly “I think we’ve been very stressed lately.”

He nods and kisses me again before saying “Only benefits can come from this.” 

“Yeah, we’re just taking care of our health, right?” 

We stare at each other, panting in unison.

I shouldn’t do this, this will only complicate things. But how can I think of that when he’s looking at me like I’m the hottest woman on earth? How can I think this is wrong when I’ve wanted this for so long? When his soft hair is disheveled by my touch, his mouth swollen from my kiss, his pupils dilated with lust for me, making his hazel eyes dark. 

Just once, I get the chance to do something for me, something that will make me feel good with someone that makes me feel good and seen and beautiful. 

Fuck it. 

I lick my lips and bring his face towards mine in the hottest kiss I have ever had. 

--------

PROLOGUE HAD BEEN POSTED!

[aristocratic-otter]

Ok, it’s been forever. Thank you for being patient with me. It’s been a mix of life stuff and biting off more than I can chew, lol. And yes, I currently have 11 WIPs (two are secret and aren’t teased below). Yes, I’m an idiot. I hope you like the snips (below the break)!

Thank you to: @nausikaaa, @thewholelemon, @rimeswithpurple, @monbons, @blackberrysummerblog,

@cutestkilla ,@letraspal , @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @whatevertheweather, @wellbelesbian,

@ic3-que3n, @roomwithanopenfire, @emeryhall, @prettygoododds, @artsyunderstudy,

@larkral, @youarenevertooold, @j-nipper-95 for tagging me over the last many weeks.

From Saving Simon Snow 

When Simon returns, he’s chilled to the bone. There are ice crystals trapped in his curls and clinging to his skin and clothing. Where on Earth did he fly to? I know better than to ask. He appears calm right now, but I don’t know how deep that goes. Is he still an emotional mess under the surface? 

From Snow Fox: 

“My apologies, ladies. Important business calls me elsewhere at the moment. Lieutenant Gage will keep you both safe and see to your needs.” Gage will be our prison guard, he means. I nod, tightly, feeling my mother do the same at my side. 

“Good luck with your business, Colonel,” my mother adds pleasantly. Her tone wishes him anything but. 

From Cupid’s Shield

I’m panting now. Something is cresting inside of me. Something I’ve never felt before. Baz’s hands slide down and clutch convulsively at my arse and I can’t help it: I moan. 

Something breaks open in Baz at the sound. A whole body shiver shakes his frame, and then he lets loose. 

From Stars, Flowers and Children

By the time we’ve turned fifteen, Simon has turned the little ramshackle tent I first built on the beach into something more akin to a castle. It has two stories, a bedroom for each of us in the upper floor, a kitchen with a firepit dug into the floor on the lower floor along with a privy room and what he calls our ‘parlour’. He’s built everything we could conceivable need, but I think he gets bored easily, because he’s constantly adjusting and polishing and tweaking the building. His most recent addition is a slide, travelling from a window on the second story down to the beach, and that’s how he joins me this morning, half tumbling, half slipping down its slick surface. 

I laugh and shake my head. We may be growing up, but Simon’s still mostly a child at heart, and I like that about him.

From TikTok Dancer: 

I’m worried. 

Does Baz know Snow is a magical creature? Penny told me, after the first meal all five of us shared, that Baz is a Mage. She could sense his magic, though she didn’t call him out on it. She also told me, privately, that the Pitch family was rather infamous back home in Great Britain. “They’re dark,” she said solemnly. “Pitches can’t be trusted.”

From The Rat and the River 

The stranger is a black man with glasses, I can tell that much. That, and he’s awfully cheerful for a man entering a hot zone potentially seething with deadly infectious particles, given he’s smiling widely at us as he pours bleach over his head.

Everytime his decontamination activities bring him around to face us again, he smiles again and waves. He’s got a nice smile, full of perfectly straight white teeth (product of American orthodontics, I’m sure), and it’s unfortunately contagious. I feel a faint tug at the corner of my lips.

From my Visitor Baz AU (still working on a title)

Being shocked and saddened wouldn’t put Simon off his food. But he’s been different this year. Since seeing the Humdrum as an eleven year old version of himself, growing deformed wings out of his back and then losing them in clumps of gore, and then coming back from a summer in care to find his roommate missing, he’s been more obsessive than ever before, and also somehow fragile. There’s a look in his eyes like he’s one trembling step away from going over the edge most days. And that’s intolerable. It’s my job to keep Simon Snow from falling apart, and I’m damn well going to see it done.

And, I have two CORB partners this year! 

From Corb 1: Baby Mine with @argumentativeantitheticalg

I’m going to find that cat and drain it dry. But first, I’m going to carve its bloody voice box out.

It’s been wailing outside for the last ten minutes, and I’ve got a paper due in two hours that I can’t focus on because of that hideous noise. With a huff, I drop the book I was referencing to the table and stomp over the door, ready to put that miserable creature out of its misery. 

Only, it’s not a cat.

If anyone claims to have witnessed the way I gasp-shriek at the sight of what’s on my doormat,  I’ll deny it. Then I’ll spell their memory. 

From Corb 2: The Stoves Come On At Night, with @ebbpettier

I dream.

I know it’s a dream, in that vague way you know what you’re experiencing can’t possibly be real. But the dream feels…I dunno, comfortable. Like a worn-in shoe. It feels like it fits me. 

I’m at a party. A party from another life, another world

Tags and howdies to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, 

@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, 

@mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am,

@whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer,

@nightimedreamersghost, @angelsfalling16, @mooncello, @shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart, 

@theearlgreymage, @Iamamythologicalcreature, @ileadacharmedlife, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @facewithoutheart,

@martsonmars, @thewholelemon, @bookish-bogwitch, @skeedelvee, @ivelovedhimthroughworse,

@messofthejess, @best--dress, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii,  @hushed-chorus,  

[comic-sans-chan]

cursed modern human garashir au where ds9 is an old ruined resort that was built by some evil rich motherfuckers years ago and was recently seized back by the native people whose land and economy it had destroyed. it's since been converted into an affordable apartment complex sort of situation (just... with a pool, bar, restaraunts, spa and tennis court built into it lol) and is run by sisko and kira. since it is rundown, odo gets hired back on to keep kids from further vandalizing it and o'brien's team gets hired on from the nonprofit organization sisko works for to fix the place up best he can. dukat is the old overseer of the property who drops by sometimes to remind them he and his hospitality business still exist, and my, what a fine job they’ve done renovating the place! it’s actually nice again. sure would be a shame if someone bought the property out from under them (lmao jk kardasi hospitality and starfleet are friends! no hard feelings. they should collaborate on some future projects, actually).

garak's a sad bitch who just lost his amazing morally dubious nepotism career at obsidian corp. (which absorbed kardasi hospitality) and moved into the complex just for the comfortingly familiar architecture. even tho he's not on the payroll for his (secret) dad's evil exploitative company anymore he's still vital to its continued efficiency and is an absolute sucker who still does unpaid shady work for them from time to time. so no one in the complex likes him, but also he's a very pleasant and fastidious queer man who pays his rent on time and has completely taken over the laundry room, to the benefit of everyone, because all the machines actually work now, it's always tidy, and there's a variety of forever-stocked detergents and soaps available, plus an iron?? there was not an iron before garak moved in. which is how it eventually becomes public knowledge that garak has an online tailoring and fashion design business, and he's actually pretty good at restoring clothes that get fucked by the washing machine or eaten by rats, soooo. yeah. they let him stick around.

meanwhile julian's a hot doctor who works at the local hospital and is absolutely buried in student debt that he refuses to let his moderately-wealthy family help him with because they're awful people who had him on illegal drugs without his knowledge since he was a little kid. they were afraid he had something wrong with him, apparently. he was too far behind in his class or w/e. they couldn't handle having a kid with special needs, so they pumped him full of dangerous experimental stimulants. only reason he found out is because he snuck off somewhere to start transitioning and had some tests done that revealed all the crazy shit in his system. he's insanely lucky he didn't end up in the hospital with seizures or fall into a coma or worse. not to mention his parents still dead-name him left and right over a decade later. it's a whole mess and a huge secret, because he technically has a history with illegal drug abuse, and it's a partially ongoing history because going cold turkey off drugs he's been on since he was six is Not A Good Idea, so??? fuck his life, actually. he lives in the apartment just down the hall from garak's. 

garak hates the country his dad's company expanded into and would like nothing better than to move back home, but it's not really logistically possible. especially since everyone there hates him cuz his (secret) dad's company is a mega-corporation that's completely taken over everything p much and is a complete monopoly nightmare, and he did... kinda... work there for decades. no one would hire him if he went back. it would be an extreme conflict of interest, since everyone wants to stay on tain's good side, including garak. but starfleet is interested in him, so he does some begrudging contract work for them sometimes, but he really has no desire to join them. he just wants to resume his old career and reclaim his assets.

julian's hospital is owned by starfleet, tho. his scholarship into medical school was also from starfleet, in fact--they're the only reason he was able to (sort of) afford becoming a doctor at all. so he's a big fan, even tho they are pretty hardcore anti-drugs in a way that's made him have to forge medical records and risk serious legal charges and prison time. julian comes across as a squeaky clean medical professional and an adorable idiot, but he's intimately familiar with back-alley dealings. which is kind of how he ends up helping garak with his drug addiction, and keeps said addiction off the record.

but basically, how it begins is julian likes to support the local restaurants in the complex and garak finds him there and thinks he's gorgeous, and it proceeds as expected. they fuck nasty and become codependent. ten years later, julian lives in a modest house with garak in his home country and garak irons all his old university hoodies.

[danieyells]

Hmm... I have been thinking... If you are a female or have female body, Ed probably won't mind doing the deed with you when you're having your period? Letting him touch you and ease the period cramp with his fingers, his tongue, and even with his dick if both of you won't mind the mess? (Nah actually the moment he caught a whiff of blood coming from you and telltale signs of your body enduring the monthly cycle he won't hesitate to sidle up to your body and convince you he can help ease the cramp and such if you let him? Cue one thirsty yet very happy vampire having his way with you as you writhe underneath him from whatever wicked things he does to you in-between your legs lol)

... I may or may not have unleashed something from inside myself that I didn't know I have after I type this idea but for some reason I don't have any regrets lol (and also thanks to one of your recent posts my thirst towards this infuriatingly lazy yet handsome vampire has increased tenfold I will need to drown myself in holy water to prevent myself from thinking nasty things about him during work 🙈)

(You can think nasty things wherever you want, as long as they don't leave your head or disrupt what you're doing! Don't let work kill your vibe anon!! Most of my text posts happen while I'm at work myself--just don't blurt anything weird out or get too horny lol.)

Oh yeah he would go ham on someone during their period like. He smells it coming for one. You haven't even started, but he knows it's coming. And he's lived a long life, he doesn't need tiktok to tell him how he can help. And you can help him, too--and Rui might appreciate the effort too you know!!!

Less pain and more pleasure for you and he gets the absolute honor of you sitting on his face for several days straight being the one to relieve you. It feels good for him too and, of course, he gets fed if you let him. . .everybody wins! Please sit on his face.

But yeah he is 400 years old, you're not the first partner he's ever had, he has 0 squeamishness regarding menstruation let alone blood. He'll give it to you however you want it, especially if it'll make you feel better. And if you let him go down on you he'll be even happier and have even more energy to. . .assist you. And he promises not to bite your cooch.

Rui comes into his room after the fact and didn't realize you were there but Ed, slob as he is, did not clean his face at all after he finished and his face is just. Smeared with blood. Dried blood, but blood. And he's just watching some youtube video like he doesn't look like Taiga after he ate the Like Dove.

"Ed, what did you do!?"

"Whatever do you mean, Rui?"

"What do I--there's blood all over your face!! We gave Darkwick our word that we wouldn't hurt anybody!"

"Oh, I didn't hurt anybody. In fact, I think I've done quite the opposite."

"If you didn't hurt anybody then where did the blood come from!?"

And you just kinda sit up or roll over or something to draw attention to yourself and at first Rui is horrified because it's you that Ed bit and that's going to go so bad on so many levels. And then he realizes how the room smells and it clicks.

And he's still mad because Ed that's disgusting go wash your face dude. Clean them up too come on you're old enough to know better than to not wash after sex.

[rorywritesjunk]

Down in the dark where the waves won't go, I'm bound to find my way.

Sunny and Buggy disagree over the next steps of their life together leading to them spending time apart.

Rating: PG-13 to be safe for swearing and arguing. Warning: Each chapter will have a specific warning. This one just has upset children again. Both kids are upset and lonely at times. Sunny is great with kids, Buggy is learning. Both adults reflect on their relationship separately. Word Count: 2,111 A/N: The direct sequel to "No locked upon land...", the fic that started it all. I do not use "You" in this as now that Sunny is an established OC I decided not to go that route. This will be several chapters. Originally (lol) it was just two parts but... but I had to expand but I don't expect it to go much longer than the original fic. It's a few chapters longer than the original fic.

Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Epilogue Taglist: @hey-august @lostfirefly

Chapter 4

Buggy reluctantly went to look for Little Sunny once he changed clothes. He really hoped the shirt would be fine but he doubted it. His wife knew how to get stains out but he wasn't sure where she was. She could have left him for all he knew and knowing that where they were at was frequented by pirates, what's to say she didn't run into someone who missed their chance with her last time and would jump at the opportunity?

No, no, he couldn't think that way. It was a silly disagreement on whether to have kids, that was all, and Buggy was right and Sunny was wrong, that was all that mattered.

He first checked all the rooms on the ship that he could, not seeing the little girl anywhere. He looked in the crow’s nest, at the helm, where the munitions were stored, everywhere. It wasn't until he bumped into Mohji that his first mate told him she had been with Richie for a half hour now, brushing his fur. 

Buggy made sure he was a little calmer before approaching the little girl. “Uh, Sunny?”

She dropped the hair brush, startled by his voice, and tried to hide behind Richie. It didn't really work.

“I can still see you.” Buggy pointed out.

“Not if I don't want you to.” She told him as she looked over the lion’s head. The two got into a bit of a staring contest for a moment before she finally looked away. “I'm sorry I messed up your shirt. It was an accident.”

She apologized first? So that probably meant Buggy didn't need to apologize at all. It was her fault after all, she made the mess. He reacted like anyone would if they had soup spilled on them. But he thought about how his wife would have handled it. She would have been so sweet and kind to the kid, insisting that it was okay and that accidents happen, and as Buggy stood there, looking down at the little girl in front of him who looked like she might start crying again, he caved.

“I'm… sorry for yelling at you.” He managed to say, though it felt weird to do so. This was his wife as a child. Why did he scream at her? He never screamed at her like that when they were adults and married. Sure, they had some recent disagreements and he may have been a bit of an asshole, but she was no better. “It was an accident, you didn't mean it.”

“Can we still be friends?” She asked quietly. Buggy hated that. Was his wife really this sad and lonely as a child?

“Ugh, yes, we can still be friends.” He sighed. “Now, look, it's getting late and neither of us ate, so let's reheat the soup and sandwiches, okay? I think you're going to have to stay here for the night so I gotta make sure you're comfortable somewhere.”

Sunny petted Richie’s mane carefully, frowning a bit before looking back at Buggy. “Can I have a hug?”

“Wh-Why do you want a hug?”

“Because I feel sad.” She shrugged. “Hugs always make me feel better.”

Buggy gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, forcing himself to count to three. Was having a kid going to be like this? Once he made sure he was calm, he knelt down and let her hug him, not bothering to put his arms around her. It didn’t matter. Maybe this would be like when he was a kid and she’d go back to her time after a few days. He could only hope.

~

He found a cot for her to sleep on that he set up in his room. He wasn’t about to let her have his bed. She seemed fine as she settled herself down on the cot, pulling the blanket up to her chin as she smiled up at him. 

“Good night, Mister Buggy!”

“Yea, yea, good night.” He turned the lights off before crawling into his own bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly so that when he’d wake up this would all be over. Barely a day with this kid and he’d already made her cry several times. Was this a test from the universe to prove to him that he definitely could not be a dad? He just wished his wife was around to see this so he could show her why it would be a terrible idea for them to be parents.

Part of him did feel guilty. He knew Sunny would be an excellent mom but he didn’t want her to have to take on all of the responsibility. He just didn’t feel like he’d be a good dad and it wouldn’t be fair if she shouldered everything. Why did she want to have one so badly? Why couldn’t they just continue on as they have been?

He rubbed his face and sighed, grumbling softly under his breath as he tried to fall asleep. It was hard not having his wife around. During the last week she wouldn’t touch him while they slept, going so far as to bring a separate blanket to bed to wrap up in. If Buggy tried to touch her she would wriggle away from him. He wished she wasn’t so stubborn.

“Mister Buggy?”

He almost screamed. Little Sunny was standing at the foot of the bed with the blanket draped over her as she looked at him with wide eyes. He clutched his heart, breathing heavily as he glared at her.

“What, kid?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You haven’t even tried.” He snapped. “Just lay down and try, okay? It’s not hard.”

Sunny looked down and Buggy cursed himself quietly. Why did he have to react this way? She had done nothing wrong. 

“Look, kid, if you want, you can… sleep on that side of the bed.” He told her as he pointed to his wife’s side. “There’s an extra blanket too. The bed is probably comfier than that cot anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yes! As long as you don’t wet the bed or something, I don’t care!” He hissed as she climbed onto his wife’s side. The little girl frowned at him as she fluffed the pillow.

“I’m ten. I don’t wet the bed.” She told him firmly. “I’m not a baby, Mister Buggy.”

“Coulda fooled me with how much you cry.” He muttered under his breath as he tried to get comfortable. He glanced over at Sunny, hoping she didn’t hear him, but she had her back to him and was wrapped up in the blankets. He could hear little sniffles coming from her and he sighed. Maybe tomorrow everything will be normal again.

~*~

Sunny had her foot propped up as she laid back on the cot. Roger had offered her his bed since she was injured, but she was fine to sleep on the cot. She couldn’t imagine taking his bed, he was the captain. It was sweet and he had insisted, but once she settled on the cot he gave up. 

Buggy as a kid was… something. Since meeting Shanks as a kid and not having met him as an adult, she had nothing to compare it to, but she wondered if this was how siblings acted towards each other. Both boys teased each other relentlessly to the point of arguing. Three times today Sunny had to watch Rayleigh break up their little squabbles. The most recent time was when the boys argued over what would hurt worse: dropping a cannonball on your foot or falling out of the crow’s nest. This was while Sunny’s foot was being wrapped by the doctor. 

She was getting a bit of a headache from them.

It was easier when it was just Buggy on her ship. He depended on her and she was happy about it. She wanted to make sure the boy felt safe and loved while he was with her because she only had her husband’s word to go off of with how he was raised. While she questioned some of the adults’ ways of speaking to kids (she came close to punching one when the crewman referred to Buggy as “Hey, brat!” when getting his attention), it wasn’t that bad. The boys had a place to live, food to eat, and were taken care of. Rayleigh and Roger watched out for Shanks and Buggy like they were their own sons. She appreciated how Roger had been worried for Buggy when he was missing for that short amount of time when she had him.

Was she being hard on her own husband for not wanting kids? When she saw her husband and the kid spend time together nearing the end of the kid’s stay, it was sweet and she thought he’d make a great dad. Sure, he tossed the boy into the water after meeting him, but afterwards they seemed to bond okay. They even made her breakfast together.

Sunny rubbed her face and looked up at the ceiling. It was hard to decide. She wanted kids. She wanted to have Buggy’s kids because she loved him so much but he had said hurtful things to her, called her ideas stupid and she wondered if she needed to give up. It hurt to think that it wouldn’t be a possibility for her, but maybe it was a decision she would need to think about: stay married or move on.

~

Someone was touching her arm and whispering her name. Sunny jolted awake, heart pounding as her eyes tried to focus on the figure in front of her. His blue hair and bright red nose came into focus first and she breathed a sigh of relief as she sat up.

“What’s wrong, honey?” She whispered as he looked down at his feet. “Are you okay? Do you feel sick? Did you have a bad dream?”

He just shrugged and crossed his arms, refusing to look at her. She frowned and pulled the covers back for him, letting him crawl into the cot beside her as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” He sniffed. “I’m sorry, Sunny, I didn’t mean to hurt you and I feel bad and Shanks said you weren’t going to marry me when I get older because I hurt you and it was an accident, really!”

“Oh, oh honey, shh.” She pulled the blankets over him and stroked his hair gently. She never knew a kid to be as excited about marriage as him. He still had years but he seemed rather fixated on the idea. “I forgive you, really. I know you didn’t mean to.” 

“Are you still gonna wanna marry me when I get older?” He asked quietly. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

“You’re not going to be alone.” She assured him, hoping their voices were quiet to not wake up the captain. “Never, I promise. You’ll have a crew, you’ll have me, and you’ll never have to worry, okay?” She kissed him on the forehead and wrapped her arms around him. “Get some sleep, okay? We’ll go with Captain Roger tomorrow afternoon to pick his coat up from the tailor.”

Buggy rubbed his eyes and looked up at her. “I don’t want you to go.”

She smiled sadly and tucked his hair back behind his ear gently. “Honey, you’ll be fine. I have to go back and be with you when you’re an adult. Remember what I said when we parted ways before? You can’t handle ten minutes without me. It’s still true. And you’ll meet me in a few years and it’s going to be fine, you just have to wait.”

“I want you to stay here.” He insisted as he sniffed. “You’d have fun here with me.”

She hated that a small part of her said to do it, to throw caution to the wind and join this crew. Why should she go back? Maybe… maybe she could do something to keep Roger from making the decisions that he did, maybe the boys wouldn’t turn their backs on each other, the crew could stay together…

But no, she couldn’t even consider that. She couldn’t change the history that happened even if she wanted to. She just tightened her arms around the boy, hugging him tightly before kissing him on the forehead.

“Get some sleep, okay?” She told him. “Maybe tomorrow you and I can make breakfast for the Captain, how does that sound? Hm? I think he’d appreciate it.”

He sighed softly but nodded, sniffling quietly as he settled down in her arms. He wondered if there was any way to convince her to stay.

[merv606]

That ficlet with Tom the guard is one of my favorite parts of Mercy you’ve written. It’s so interesting to see what people outside of Daniel and Terry think of the situation. What would happen if Daniel was trying to escape/making a fuss and one of the guards, in trying to restrain him, hurt him? Like accidentally hit his face and gave him a shiner, or grabbed him too hard and twisted his wrist or something. I just wanna see Terry in feral mode and protective mode with Daniel tbh. Destroy the guard, Terry!

Thank you 🥰

It was fun to write actually, unlike most of Mercy lol

Well we do know bruises on his arm meant that guard was never seen from again 🤔 

Tom sighs. This is not going to end well. 

“He bit me. What else was I suppose to do?!” It’s one of the new guards, Cole. He only recently joined sometime last week. 

Only one week and the absolute idiot has broken the cardinal rule.

Daniel is sitting cradling his face, but Tom can see the bruise already forming. 

Jesus Christ - this is a mess. 

The only reason Terry isn’t in here already means that while he had to step out, he must not be watching the monitors, for once. 

Either way there is nothing Tom can do, he’s basically looking at a dead man walking.

Tom has worked with Terry for decades and has done some fucked up shit for him, although this takes the cake, because in terms of a wrongness scale of one to ten, this would be 15.

Still, the pay is good and he, like all the ex black ops have a special set of skills. While highly trained with a deadly efficiently for when things were FUBAR, it  wasn’t really good for much else - it don’t exactly translate over to real life. 

This guy, Daniel, and that’s all they know - his first name only - has Terry acting in a way Tom has never seen.

“Fuck I think I’m going to need stitches.”  

Tom snorts.

“You’ll be lucky if all you need is stitches.” He has a feeling that before the night is done he’ll be digging a ditch. 

Cole looks up sharply. 

Tom adjusts his gun.

“What the hell? He can’t be mad at me for this.”

“You broke the number one rule, man.”

You damaged the merchandise, Tom thinks. The very, very important merchandise.

For whatever reason, and Tom doesn’t need to understand it, Daniel to him, is like the Mona Lisa to the Louvre. It’s prized possession; priceless and irreplaceable. More important than anything, with nothing being justified in damaging it, and damage it Cole had.

Idiot.

“Terry is not going to be happy.”

“Fuck Terry,” but it’s not from Cole, it’s coming from Daniel. 

“Daniel, please don’t try to stand up,” Tom says, as he sees Daniel try to move off the bed. Even if it is pointless, he knows the guy won’t listen, he is a stubborn SOB. 

Sighing now as Daniel does exactly what he was asked not to. 

Tom has no idea what the nurse gives him but it is impressive he can even function, at any rate. 

Tonight was an experiment to see how he would react if they tried to give him less, have him more lucid.

It’s proving to not have been such a good idea.

Terry had been in the room, was rarely found anywhere else, but had needed to step out to deal with something.

Just a case of bad timing, really. 

It’s about damage control now, that much Tom knows, and he says something to the com on his shoulder. 

“You know what,” Cole spits, “I’m fucking done with this.” He moves towards Daniel, hand reaching out to grab him, who knows, it doesn’t matter - he’s not putting hands back on Daniel again, so Tom stops him, in a move so fast he doesn’t see it coming. 

Cole is lying in the ground moaning, his arm clearly dislocated. 

Daniel sways and he would have been on the ground next to him, if not for Tom gently helping him to the bed.

Terry comes in then.

“What the hell is ….” but he stops cold as soon as he sees the bruise on Daniel’s face. 

His voice is low and even, no emotion as he asks calmly, too calm. “What happened to his face?”

Yeah, he’s digging a ditch tonight. 

Nothing he can do now. Cole really brought it on himself though. 

They all worked with Terry for years, Tom the longest though and while this guy was new, he had come vetted and now that he thinks about it, there would probably be consequences for the one who did the vetting. 

Cole didn’t understand what it was that was so special about this guy and truth be told none of them did, but it didn’t matter.

Because they knew Terry. 

Because they saw how he became a different person around this guy. 

So they knew Terry and they knew he was serious about the rules.

That was enough. 

Cole though, was about to learn the hard way.

Daniel screams something from the bed, vague death threats and how much he hates Terry. 

It’s no wonder they keep him so drugged up.

“What happened?” Terry ask, kneeling down, attempting to reach out but Daniel bats his hands away with his free hand. 

“Don’t fucking touch me, Terry.”

Tom explains the events of the night while Daniel glares. 

“Daniel,” Terry tries, voice soft and soothing almost. “Please …”

“I will fucking kill you,” he tries to lunge at Terry now, who easily subdues him, but not before he also manages to sink his teeth into Terry’s arm as well who grimaces but, does not retaliate. 

Unlike with Cole though, Daniel really manages to get a hold, and Tom winces in sympathy, as he too has been on the receiving end of such an attack.

Not for the first time Tom wonders what the man would be able to do if he wasn’t so doped up, because it’s impressive now.

Tom stands watching. If this was any other situation he would have intervened but not here, not with Daniel.

They all know better and they know not to intervene unless Terry gives a sign, or if Daniel was in danger. 

Terry eventually works his arm free, a litany of death threats that are no longer vague, actually highly specific, and while there is a lot of blood, he simply cradles Daniel, a hand on the side of his head, almost cradling it to his chest, careful of the bruise. 

The nurse comes in, and in moments Daniel goes still. 

Terry holds onto him as she examines his face.

Some cream is spread on it and then Tom watches as Terry transfers him out of his arms onto the bed, putting him under the covers, carefully tucking him in. 

Tom looks away as the older man bends down, kissing Daniel’s head, murmuring to him. 

Tom barks More instructions into his shoulder com, a guard coming in to drag Cole out, unconscious himself now from the pain of his mangled shoulder. 

Before he can be given instructions on how to deal with Cole, the nurse starts to tend to the wound on Terry’s arm. 

“I think we might need a muzzle,” Tom remarks as the nurse puts in a few stitches and Terry laughs.

“Would you believe that his bark is worse than his bite? Although his bite is still pretty vicious.”

Tom nods.

“He’s always been a handful,” and anyone can hear the adoration dripping off every world. “A spitfire full of anger,” he chuckles. 

The nurse finishes, Terry standing then as she begins to clean up the mess, indicating he wants Tom to walk with him.

“What do you want done?” 

“Make an example,” is all Terry answers.

“A permanent example?” Tom asks, just to be sure. Maybe a few broken bones and teeth will satisfy Terry.

That,” he points to the small body on the bed, “is never to happen again. Under any circumstances. No one is to raise a hand to him.”

Tom nods his understanding. 

He knew he was going to be digging a ditch tonight. 

[ophexis]

2024!

I tend to try to make a yearly post on new year's so here it is lol

2024 was a bit of a hit and miss for me I guess. A big chunk of it was unbearably unpleasant and plagued by some of my worst bouts of depression in a while, but some things got a little better too.

A lot of stress was from my job, when I finished the project I had been working on for a few years and was put on a different project that I hated lmao. I was forced in office way more often, had to listen to my very unpleasant desk neighbors, and it immediatly made my arm and finger pain flares so much worse. It sucked so bad sdfsg. I had no energy to cook or clean or wash dishes or do anything and my appartment became a mess and everything sucked.

I changed department in october-ish, going from functionality QA to analytics QA. It's something I was remotely interested in but my project made me want to switch as soon as I could and I did. Analytics has been a lot more chill, my arm was able to heal and I can work from home as well. There's still some stress and impostor syndrome but at least things are more chill. There's a bit of worry over my job security for the coming year tho lol.

my maternal grandmother passed away this year, shortly before her birthday, and it was a bit rough, and I still think of her regularly and I miss her, but I hope she's having a nice restful time with grandpa up there.

My health has been so-so this year as well. I got some kind of stomach flu earlier in the year for the first time in litteral years, I had an extremely painful ear infection in october (idk if the stress just got me bad this year), and I'm currently wrangling with some other mysterious health situation that I'm currently doing tests for. While the initial tests didn't seem to show anything alarming, it's been stressful and also been occasionally impacting my daily life in an unpleasant way so yknow sdfsg. I'm hoping to get to the bottom of it this year.

at some point in october I realised I had to change some things bc I couldn't keep up with chores and it was becoming a problem, dishes in particular. It was stopping me from wanting to cook and I was letting stuff pile up, so I finally bought a dishwasher. There's no connection for dishwasher in my appartment so I went for a small countertop model I can hook to my sink and it's been a lifechanger. Unfortunately my kitchen ceiling is low so I can't actually leave it on my counter lol but I've been making it work. ideally I'd like to upgrade to a portable someday but $$$

this may sound dumb but I haven't forgotten about the sonic cookbook post I was supposed to make months ago. The job stress and everything else forced me to put it aside, but I recently found some places where I could source the peppers needed to make Sonic's chili, so I'm hoping I can make that post soon. And maybe feel motivated enough to resume my project of cooking from all my nerdy cookbooks.

Also this year I went to see Drum Tao, Sonic Symphony (which was incredible), Distant Worlds and TWRP live! I wanted to go to more shows so I think that was pretty good.

Collection-wise I slowed on figures but I got my hands on some manga, some artbooks, and several soundtracks so that's nice. I have also started a casual collection of specific dnd books, basically anything that has a significant enough section related to the drow, just before christmas I got my hands on the last 5e book I was looking for, so I'll be hunting for older books now. I already have PDFs of them all so in the worst case I'll probably print them for myself (maybe bind them myself? we'll see), but I'll keep my eye out for used copies. I want to get my hands on a few specific ttrpg books as well eventually but money's been a bit tighter so I haven't commited.

My living room is looking relatively finished now. I have a coffee table, 4 kitchen chairs. I'd like to get a dresser of some sort to put my printer on, and a better cart for my dishwasher, but it's looking nice, which is why i wanna focus on my bedroom now.

idk what to expect from 2025 but I would like to once again try to make more art (would be nice to actually commit to making a zine), get back into cosplay, take control of my bedroom mess which is still in the throes of the post-move clusterfuck (and get more furniture for it), improve my collection displays and maybe be able to unbox everything???. I'd like to put money aside to go to galaxy's edge. I'd like to cook more, and I'd like to spend quality time with my friends.

I hope everybody has a safe and peaceful new year!

[spurgie-cousin]

I think I know the exact mom account you’re talking about because I’ve been waiting to see if she’s done with that house she’s cleaning or if she has another room to do (it was a huge house, wood floors, entryway filled with amazon boxes?)

I miss a lot of her cleaning videos that aren't at her own house so possibly? She's young and does a lot of cooking videos and also little budget friendly ways to spruce up your house. She also talks about dealing with depression and having been in a bad place until recently, when she started her channel to help other moms in similar situations.

And not to get on another tangent lol but like one thing about coming out of a depression hole is that you don't snap out of it immediately, it can be a slow imperfect process which I think her account illustrates really well. One day, she spends the entire day updating all of her decor in her living room or painting her patio area, the next it's been almost a week since she's cleaned her kitchen, and those are usually the videos she gets the most shit on.

This mom also talks about how she got pregnant young and didn't grow up with great parent examples as far as keeping up with daily messes and just general life maintenance stuff. And her husband apparently does not help out in any way shape or form so all of the chores are on her shoulders, as is childcare, as is pet care, etc.

It would just be nice if people's first reaction to her was "wow she must be feeling so overwhelmed, is there anything I can do or say to support her?" as opposed to "wow you are actively putting your kids in danger you horrible mother, my mother had SEVEN kids and our house would never be like this, you're so lazy". Like I truly believe there are very few mothers out there not trying their hardest the best way they know how, just not everyone is given the same tools as everyone else and those people deserve empathy and support.

[rose-maidenn]

mula moon with anuradha ascendent. I recently lived with two tropical Scorpio moons one with a Scorpio rising that i know was a Kristina sun Swati moon & Vishakha ascendant. The other was a tropical Leo ascendant. They were filthy nasty roomates. And I was the only one that was clean. I would confront them about it over and over again. It got to the point that bugs were in the apartment so I had to contact the building manager with pictures of the apartment. They were friends before I met them and they both got together and lied saying that the mess was all me. Our room was to be inspected and thankfully because it was done at random and they didn’t clean their rooms, the building manager saw they weren’t clean. One of them had severe mental health issues and depression and bipolar disorder and the other was very insecure and had major beef with her mother, she was also very messy ( as in always in drama) & very nonconfrontational. Both were having issues finding employment. After this whole situation happened there were multiple fights. they were both talking about me and saying lies about me. One of them kept going back and forth with me over the thermostat turning it up to 75 on the hottest day of the year. As a Mula moon I am known to finish fights lol, but I found that I wasn’t being myself in this situation and decided to walk away and pretend I didn’t hear them yelling ab me to each other. That has never happened to me. I noticed the building manager asking her to meditate and for some reason she thought it was a police matter and wrongfully charged one of them. Months later I’m returning home because I can’t find work, I’m struggling with mental health and depression for the first time in my life. My mother and I are beefing like when I was 13. And even tho I’m typically pristine clean, I’m not picking up after myself. I am also someone that has always been sure of themselves and very confident and never in my life have I been insecure or unsure of my future. I’ve always known my life was for a higher purpose and my very spiritual family has always told me I would be recognized or famous. I’m supposed to be applying to a doctorate program but have been procrastinating tasks. I have been dwelling and thinking about this issue non stop.It wasn’t until I came across your posts on destiny swapping that I put two and two together. How do I stop dwelling on this issue and these people and are there steps to reverse destiny swapping.

That's so freaking messed up lord , the very first steps will be to get up and force yourself to do the cleaning I know other things are hard to set up but start small , if we're gonna do this it will take some mental energy and force , you have to get into the mindset that it is your destiny and that no force trying to pry on that shall prosper . Start working against the imposed destiny you need mental confidence everyday affirmations, writing positive beliefs etc , start small but steady .

Next if you know a someone ask them to help you do an aura cleanse Alternatively do a cord cutting ritual , watch reiki online which can help you let go of their nasty ass energy that has been imposed on you . Naturally you will start vibrating high again.

Start affirming in the morning and before sleep :

" I call my own energy from wherever it has leaked to and give out energy that doesn't belong to me back to the owner "

And last but not the least

Prayy !!!!!

Your gods , guides , angels , earth to whatever you believe in. Take care 🫶

[ashcoveredtraveler]

the transcript is written below

Attachment, part 3

Previous/First \\Previous\\ Next(Will be done at some point)

Panel One:

“Ma… why do we have to go to the ball?”

“Dad hates me! Same with his wife. He doesn’t like seeing me at all!”

Panel Two:

“Cause, honeydrop, the king has been getting on my ass and made my job as queen harder-”

“You told me never to bend to those who intend to break and change you…”

Panel Three:

“Why won’t you fight harder?... Must you always accept issues without trying to fix them?”

“I don’t have much time with you…”

Panel Four:

“Oh Hornet,”

Panel Five:

“I am so sorry that you are woven into the mess I agreed to be in…and right now you are the only one to fix this issue as- ”

“-cause the vessel- cause Holly isn’t pure … Why can’t we bring the triplets to dad? To show that the vessels aren’t pure?”

Panel Six:

“Oh Hornet, you know we can’t do that. We don’t know if they’ll be hurt-”

Panel seven:

“Kids? Are you there?”

Panel Eight:

“Hello, Rone. Do you need anything?”

[Sister okay?]

Panel Nine:

“Oh I’m good. Thanks for checking on me, Rone. I was just upset. You don’t have to concern yourself with me.”

“Please don’t get yourself in the mess we are in. ”

Notes:

God this was difficult to color. I actually have fingernails now so the nail just rubs against the iPad screen. If I shorten that nail, I would have to shorten every nail lol. Also saving every color I use was a bit annoying. Now I have to clean all the colors that I saved as it takes up a lot of room.

My personal life has also been stressful, so when I have free time I would usually doodle random crap or write instead of writing this comic. While it is fun to draw the comics, there is no good way to draw them that doesn't drive me crazy as I am doing it assembly line style. Then when I am doing that I notice the quality goes down compared to some of the singular drawings I have been doing recently.

It may take a bit for the next part to come out as college is kicking my ass, and I would like to continue to improve my skill.