#ok ok it.... it took an extra day... but it was nearly done by the end of the month

[meownotgood]

I'm almost done!!! prince aki will return!!! just need to do a bit more editing on the final part and then proofread, I'll work very hard to get this chapter posted sometime tomorrow 🫡

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Lucifer x sinner reader?

Two of a kind

Warnings: Gn! Reader, Lucifer has some prejudice against sinners, but other than that honestly just a fluffy meet-cute between Luci and the reader!

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1240

A/n: Hi! thanks for the request! This one was a little tricky to write as you didn’t specify anything more than your request, so I had to come up with some kind of plot for it! But I definitely had fun writing for Lucifer! I’m sure everyone here knows that I simp for Adam (if that wasn’t obvious) but I also adore Luci! Anyways, I hope you enjoy <3

Reblogs Appreciated

Also what do y’all think about Luci’s header I made?

Lucifer’s visit to the hotel certainly was…. Eventful.

Seeing his daughter was the best thing he’s done in ages, but it did come at the cost of having to be around the hotel’s sinners, especially that red headed radio guy. To put it simply, Lucifer was having one of the worst days so far. That was until… Charlie decided to introduce him to another one of the hotel's guests who had shown up late to his welcome party.

They yelp as they rush in through the door, falling down face first into the ground. “Charlie! I have the extra decorations for your dad’s par… ty…” they lifted their head slightly to see two black heeled-boots right in front of them.

Their head slowly lifted, eyes following up the body in front of them, observing the intricate red design on a snow white suit, a big black bow tie, and eventually two crimson red eyes adorned with a mop of slick backed blond hair. Right away, they knew who it was, they've seen him in many portraits in the hotel… It was Lucifer.

Lucifer watched intently as they let out a sound akin to a squeak when they jumped back slightly while on the ground, mumbling something that sounded like an apology, but Lucifer paid it no mind as his eyes stared at you with something even more than intrigue.

See, Lucifer possessed a type of ability to see the souls of those around him. It was an ability most Angels and even some high ranking Winners had. And usually, he could mark what exactly got them here, to make them sinners. He’s always been able to do it, he’s even able to see if a sinner's soul was owned or if they themselves owned souls.

But them… He couldn’t quite pinpoint why they’d be here. He could see it, the marks of sin burned into their soul but what they were for, what they had done, was hidden far far from his eyes. But even then your soul was shockingly nearly spotless aside from those scars of sin. That intrigued him so much.

“And you are?” Lucifer asked, extending his hand down towards the slightly shaking body on the ground. They hesitantly took his hand, their own was soft against his as he held it gently.

“Oh right! Dad this is Y/n! One of our guests here at the hotel! They have made excellent progress in their journey to redemption!” Charlie says, enthusiasm evident in her voice.

A sinner making progress to redemption? That’s definitely a first. If it was even true, which he doubted. Sinners are just that, sinners. No matter how hard you try, they’ll just keep tumbling back down until they’re worse than they started. Lucifer’s seen it, he’s seen it countless times. But still, everything surrounding this sinner made them seem so.. kind?

“You came back a little late, was everything ok?” Charlie asked, concern evident In her voice.

“Yeah, don’t worry! it was entirely my fault I was late.” They pause as they pull out a phone from their pocket, showing them the screen “I got distracted by this family of ducks at the pond down the street”

On the screen were five ducks swimming in a green-blue pond, two adults and three ducklings. They weren’t normal ducks of course, they were some type of hellspawn variety but still they looked as close to real ducks as they could be.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in amusement letting out a small sound involuntarily. He tried to keep his face as poised as he could but when faced with the sight of the most adorable animal to ever be created he can’t help but fawn over them.

Once you had finished showing them both the pictures and videos you took Charlie spoke up “Ok that’s great, I’m glad you didn’t encounter any trouble!” Then almost as if a light bulb lit over her head “Oh! that reminds me, I had to grab something for you Dad! I can’t believe I nearly forgot!”

Charlie quickly walks over to Y/n and tries to whisper something in their ear but he could make it out enough to get the picture “keep Dad occupied till I get back”

The sinner nods in acceptance as Charlie yells that ‘she’ll be back in a jiffy’ leaving Lucifer and The lone sinner alone together.

The silence in the air was suffocating, at least to Lucifer. He hadn't always been this awkward when it came to conversations but in recent years his social skills have made a decline. He lets out a small sigh.

“Do you also like ducks?” The sinner breaks the silence. “You seemed to enjoy the pics I took”

‘Crap… they heard me earlier?’ Lucifer thought, he clears his throat “Y-Yeah, I do enjoy them. But it’s not like an obsession or anything. Like I don’t have a… workshop full of completely unique rubber ducks I made myself haha!” His laugh went on for longer than he intended, leaving an awkward feeling in the air. Good job Lucifer… you did great.

The sinner looked at him with a look that could only be described as confusion, before they gave a sly grin at him.

“Hmm, a shame. I so happen to love guys with a workshop full of rubber ducks” they laugh. Ah, a joke, just a joke, there's no way that they could be flirting with him… right? “So I guess that makes you an exception then?” You wink at him when you finish your sentence.

Oh… oh! Yep. Definitely flirting. A sinner…was flirting with him? And the worst part? He was actually enjoying it??? He clears his throat again, the blush on his face contrasting with his pearly white skin, making it even more evident “Yes well, um… I do know a guy with a rubber duck workshop, if you’re interested, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I gave you a t-tour?” The end of his sentence didn’t come out as confident as he would have liked it, having to force the last words out.

The sinner laughs “Hmm, I wouldn’t mind taking you up on that offer.” They walk over to a small bed-side table to grab a pen and paper then began writing something before tearing the slip of paper out.

The sinner walks back to him, paper in hand. Slowly they bent down in front of him until they were now face-to-face. Lucifer gulps down nervously as they take his sweaty hand In their soft warm one. They open his palm before slipping the note and closing his hand around it. Then they move his hand to his chest before letting go.

“See ya’ around, you handsome devil”

The sinner walks away with those last words, a smirk evident on their face. Once he was sure you were gone he slowly unraveled the note you left in his hand. Carefully he reads the words on the paper

‘Tell that ‘friend’ I’d love to see his workshop ;) call me <3

( XXX-XXXX )’

You had left him your number…. Lucifer’s face felt as hot as a desert, the red from his cheeks spreading over his paper white face. Was he really going to do this? It was such a bad idea… No no, he was just doing this to get to the bottom of what’s up with their soul. Yes! That was the reason! Nothing more… Right?

[remiivu]

Ghostly Companion- Extra 1 [Mr. Gachapon]

Masterlist

[Ao3]

Tysm for waiting! Chapter 3 is coming out in a few hours^^

Honestly, a part of your brain regrets ever having shown Mr. Crawling the collections of capsule machines that appear outside of high-traffic buildings. 

It took quite a while to be able to understand his insistent, constant begs of “∎∎∎∎! Me want ∎∎∎∎!” But, after many charades, you’ve come to learn that it was… something like object. The word’s meaning itself was vague, as you’ve heard him use it on nearly every item in your household, but the particular tone he used as he pointed and jabbed a long, gray finger at your matching keychains was something you began to think was whining.

That was strange. You’ve always viewed your ghost as an obedient, mild type of person who seemed happy enough to just follow you around, but maybe the dragging, repetitive actions that came with daily mortal life had its way of making even the undead want a change in pace. 

Which… yeah. That honestly makes sense. While the other world had a definite amount of hallways, there was probably always something to break the boredom– like maybe a new person falling into the world just as you did, or a fight, or just generally fearing for your life as you navigated where the dangerous ghosts were.

Yeah, ok. You could feel the guilt already creeping up on you.

“Ok, ok, you want keychain?” You sigh, bent down to be at eye level with Mr. Crawling.

Mr. Crawling brightened up, grin stretched from ear to ear. “Yes! Me want object!”

Well, that was that.

The trip was done at dawn, similar to the first simply because of how empty the streets were. You’ve had some sort of confirmation that he’s either unsee-able for most people or hard to notice in general (with the exception of young kids that bawl the second their eyes catch a glimpse of the two of you.) Thankfully, they were kids, and adults rarely took supernatural claims from them seriously.

And if they did…

Well, you weren’t quite sure what you would do. Something unusual itches in your chest at the thought, and the one thing you’re certain about is the fact that you treasure your new companion far more than a stranger or their child.

You absolutely will not lose him by some sort of random exorcism performed by someone who had no right of getting near you or your home.

Mr. Crawling, oblivious to your inner monologue, was somewhat giddy as he personally led the way towards the familiar capsule machines you two had passed a few days ago. He checked back, pausing and twisting his neck to ensure you were following, but you were always there, 2 steps behind with a pleasant smile.

As you got closer, you saw that your suspicions from earlier were confirmed. You weren’t aware of the strength Mr. Crawling had, but the original food-themed capsule machine was broken, blocked off with some tape and a paper explaining its current state.

Mr. Crawling paused at the sight, peeling and picking as the tape.

“Object… damaged,” You say, pointing at the sign. “Broken. It’s broken.”

Mr. Crawling’s smile dropped into a frown. “Damaged? ∎∎∎?”

You shrug, not wanting to dampen his mood by saying it was him who broke it. You noticed that he’s rather… paranoid of harming things in this world. Your plates, chopsticks, spoons– even the sturdier objects like your floor table or sink (which, now that you’re thinking about it, having a broken sink is definitely a possibility judging by the state of the capsule machine’s handle) are treated with a sense of fragility you hadn’t noticed he ever used in his own world. 

Well, apart from yourself. You were top of the list, and you’re certainly glad about that. You’re not as easily fixable nor replaceable, and you better be further up on his list of importance than any household objects he had taken a liking to.

You watched as he peered at the other options, going through each of the machines before he looked up to you like some sort of lost puppy.

You didn’t even need to understand his next words to know that he wanted your opinion.

You crouch down, examining each one yourself before your eyes settle on one themed after cats. You pointed at it and said, “Cute,” knowing that this single word was enough to sway him.

He bounced up, looking at it with a smile. “Me can ∎∎∎?” 

You nod, fishing out your freshly filled coin pouch, already prepared for this scenario. You hand him a decent amount of coins, watching as he inserted the coins and twisted the nobs much more gently, far more used to using less strength in this world compared to a few days ago.

One by one, you watch him drain the coins and pop open capsules, not looking entirely content with each cat chain he pulls out.

What in the world was he doing?

White, calico, black, tuxedo– he was getting nearly every color, even some duplicates, steadily supplied with coins from your uncertain hand and trembling coin pouch.

You had withdrawn 2,000 yen worth of coins so that he could either grab a decent selection or find some new machines to save for the next trip– not for his brand new and… not well received new cat chain collection. 

“Mr. Crawling, why– you.. Ugh, how do I say ‘why’ in your language…” You muttered, watching him nearly empty the capsule machine, arms filled with empty capsules.

Eventually, though, his smile pops back to life as he cracked open a container and pulled out the rarer, limited edition chain of a sparkly siamese cat. He holds it up, grinning, “Cute! Cute much!”

Your jaw drops. What the– did you accidentally invoke some sort of gambling of collecting addiction in him? He was so happy the last time with just getting whatever!

“You– you..” You say, unsure of how to express whatever cluster-fuck of emotions you were currently feeling.

“Me give object you!” He cheered, pressing the -now very expensive- chain into a spare finger that wasn’t holding on to empty capsules.

“I–...” You stuttered, gripping onto it the best you could before it could fall. “Why?!” You ask, hoping that the way that you gawked or had your mouth open, flabbergasted, would convey the meaning to him effectively.

And, the smart, smart Mr. Crawling that he is did end up understanding, saying with glee “You speak cute! This object cute!”

Did you?! You most certainly did not– you had simply…

Oh.

You watched him poke at the machine, right over the limited edition cat, and presumably right where you had pointed your finger at before you declared it to be cute. 

Shit. This was your fault.

Mr. Crawling looked as sweet as ever, collecting his mini pile of cat chains and packing them all into his mouth, one by one.

You sighed, dumping all the empty capsules and plastic wraps into the recycling bin right next to the machines as you waited for him to finish stuffing his cheeks like some sort of chipmunk or squirrel. 

You were about to offer to carry it for him but…

Yeah, no. Not anymore. He has it covered now.

You kept your own chain out, wrapping and twirling it around your fingers until he looked ready to go, and began your hike back to your apartment, briefly wondering if ghosts showed up on cameras or if the flashing light would scare him into either breaking, dropping, or swallowing his brand new collection.

With how light your coin pouch felt, you decided it wasn’t worth it. 

______________________________

Once home, you quickly gave the new chains a wash in the sink, laying them all out on the towel before presenting it back to Mr. Crawling, who took much enjoyment in the next hours arranging them in various, close to the ground nooks and crannies, making sure each was visible from the open.

When you walk out from the shower, freshened up and back to normal brain-function, you blankly stared at the 20-something chains in your field of vision, cluttering shoe racks and bottom shelves, and Mr. Crawling looking proud as he chirped “Hello!” and swiftly crawled over to wrap your glittering chain around your wrist, holding it in place. 

… Well, it was a good thing you never invited your friends over.

Masterlist

[Ao3]

Thank again everyone! Hoped you enjoyed (and saw the slight twist in moods^^)!

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (6)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Mischief fails, Tricks on you, When you realize what you did wrong

Summary: You’re a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You’ve been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! (If I missed ant tags, please let me know, I'll add you right away!)

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

To say he was unamused was an understatement. Four days have gone by since the incident in the library. A complete 96 hours of him not being allowed entry into the one sanctuary he has in this tower. 5,760 minutes since he last held the book he was supposed to be reading but has been forced to leave incomplete due to one person. The Librarian; he seethed at the thought of the young woman. I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong, and she dares to keep me from the library?

Though the dismissal by the Librarian was abrupt and rude, he hardly took it as something serious and proceeded to the library the very next day. That was where the trouble began. No matter how he tapped or swiped, the same red light flashed on the panel. After the seventh attempt, he let out a sigh of frustration and nearly threw the rectangular piece of plastic at the door.

“Jarvis, what is the meaning of this?” Loki demanded.

“Please clarify,” the computer voice responded.

“Why am I unable to enter the library?”

“Because your key card is blocked from accessing the library.”

“And why is that?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. This must be a mistake. I have frequented the library every day. I’ll inform the metal man of his ‘precious’ computer system’s error.

“Loki, the second prince of Asgard and Avenger, is forbidden from entering the library until cleared by Director Y/LN, the Librarian, as of yesterday evening. You are unable to access this portion of the facility until further notice.” The second prince of Asgard silently blinked as his brain took a moment to process what was just said. 

“What did you say?” He glared at the camera that watched the entry. The computer repeated the restriction details verbatim. “Preposterous, why would I be banned from the library? I command you to remove this ludicrous restriction, immediately.”

“Unable to authorize override. A higher level of clearance is required.”

“What do you mean a ‘higher level of clearance’? What level is there higher than a prince? A literal god in your realm?” He glared at the security camera above the door. A low growl rumbled in the base of his throat, his hands balled into tight fists.

“Though you are a prince, your status does not allow you the authority above the person who instated the rule. Director Y/LN is of higher rank than you, who has Avenger status.” The insipid tone of the computer was salt to his wounded pride. A mere Midgardian who minded the books was above him? The sound of footsteps quickly quelled his ire and he left, he would try again another day. The silly order would be gone by tomorrow. Or so he thought. Here he was four days later and still denied access to the library. The same red light and same monotonous warning played each and every time.

“Perhaps I should try going in with someone else? But who?” He muttered to himself, tapping a finger against his lips.

“Loki, is everything ok?” He turned at the voice. A sound once utterly dreadful was now music to his ears. He would risk his sanity for a chance to step through those doors once more.

“Captain, err, Captain, you really are a sight for sore eyes. You see, I’ve misplaced my key card, and I wasn’t sure how else I would be able to enter the library.”

“Lost your key card? That isn’t good, you should let security know right away. You don’t want it to fall in the wrong hands. I’ll let you in with mine, but you have to promise me you’ll handle the matter right away.” He raised his card as proof as he sternly looked at the trickster god.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to cause unnecessary trouble for the Avengers who so graciously given me the chance to mend my image and prove myself. You have my word to have the matter resoled quickly.”

“Good,” Steve nodded his head before tapping his card on the panel.

“Welcome, Captain Rogers.” The doors slowly swing open, revealing the glorious sight of the towering shelves in ample lighting. Loki quickly followed in behind him, his heart swelling at the majestic sight.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you today?” The sound of her voice sent ice through his veins, the warmth quickly replaced. He needed to hide, but he was taller than Steve. Her sharp gaze pinned him to the spot. “Captain Rogers, I see you brought a guest with you. Please tell him to leave the library at once and use his own key to swipe himself in.”

“He’s having trouble getting in, Y/N. He lost his key card and couldn’t enter. You know Loki likes to read, could you let him pass this one time? For my sake?”

“The rules are the rules. All who pass through those doors must be registered in the system on entry and exit. You know it’s for security reasons. I can’t play favorites to one person and could lose my job if word got out that I’m letting people bypass protocol.” She firmly countered. Her gaze was sharp, unwavering. They were emotionless, which contrasted the charged words. Loki could not help but find himself ensnared by those eyes.

“I didn’t consider that, I’m sorry.” Steve lightly bowed his head to her before turning to Loki. “You heard her. Looks like you’ll need to get a new key card first.” The weight of the gloved hand snapped Loki out of his little daze.

“Yes, I suppose.” Loki mumbled his response, his focus never shifting from the young woman behind the desk. “Thank you for your assistance.” He forced himself to turn and break away first, leaving the library for the day.

A week’s worth of time ticked by since that day, each attempt of his thwarted in someway by the system or her.

Enough is enough! I’ve played by their little rules and look where it’s gotten me. I’ll do this my way. He pushed off the arms of the chair, using the momentum to quickly exit the lounge area that was set up for the Avengers. Just as the door opened, Loki vanished into thin air and reappeared within the walls of the library. A smug smirk pulled at his lips as he tugged at his shirt. I should’ve done this from the start. He strode towards the unmanned front desk when an alarm blared above.

“Warning, you are in violation of your revoked privileges. Please leave the library at once. Failure to do so will lead to forceful expulsion. Warning, you are in violation of your revoked privileges. Please leave the library at once. Failure to do so will lead to forceful expulsion.” The computer voice loudly repeated, startling the god of mischief. He quickly stepped out through the doors, the alarm and warning ceasing immediately. 

Perhaps I should have landed elsewhere in the library. There are obviously more cameras within the entryway. He vanished once more and reappeared next to his usual seat. There, waiting on the table, was the book he was reading. Smiling, he grabbed the book and settled into the couch when the alarms began once again. 

Warning, you are in violation of your revoked privileges. Please leave the library at once. Failure to do so will lead to forceful expulsion. Warning, you are in violation of your revoked privileges. Please leave the library at once. Failure to do so will lead to forceful expulsion.” 

“By Odin’s beard,” he slammed the book down on the table as he stood up from his seat. “How does a computer intend to forcefully remove me?!” He argued.

“You have ten minutes to leave before security is summoned.”

Of course, he gritted his teeth in frustration before vanishing from the library once more. “What reason does she have to ban me in such a humiliating manner? What wrong have I done? Absolutely nothing, that’s what!” He kicked the stool that was in his way as he walked over to the kitchenette to make himself some tea. It was his seventh cup today since he had no other means of relaxing, and he was stressed to the heaves because of this unwarranted restriction.

“Brother, is everything alright?” Thor’s voice came from his left. He watched his younger sibling suddenly appear in the lounge and instantly knew he was in a sour mood. The assault on the stool only confirmed what the deep set scowl on his face gave away. Loki waved him off dismissively at first, heavily sighing. “Clearly something is bothering you. You’ve attacked a completely harmless piece of furniture that was hardly in your way for getting tea.” He pointed to the toppled piece laying on its side.

The younger prince was ready to insist that nothing was the matter, but the words failed to come out. The look of anger and hurt in those open and expressive eyes haunted him since that fateful day. Perhaps Thor was the best person to ask. He’s friendly with them, and she seems to have taken a liking to him. “I am having a slight issue with that librarian we are to work with. She has forbidden me from entering the library. Do you know why that could be?”

“Why, I wouldn’t have the faintest idea! She hardly seems the time to do that unwarranted, perhaps your sharp tongue has gotten you into a spot of trouble once more? What did you say to her?” He took a sip of his coffee and Loki scoffed.

“I barely said three proper sentences to her before she threw me out over whatever she concocted in that troubled mind of hers!” 

“Loki, a woman scorned, is not to be taken lightly. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding when you tried to explain why you were unable to keep your promise?”

“Unable to keep my promise, what promise?” Loki frowned, but said nothing to let Thor continue. He watched his older brother’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as he set his mug on the table.

“You promised to meet with her after training the day we met with her. Our session ran longer than anticipated and the time to meet was missed. Loki, did you not apologize to her?” Thor nervously eyed him, hoping he was wrong. Loki’s posture went rigid and his eyebrows shot upwards.

Is that what she meant?! I completely forgot I made such a promise. Norns, it’s not what I said, it’s what I hadn’t said! “It seems that detail slipped my mind.” He mumbled, turning back to his tea, stirring the sugar he added.

“Quite the detail to forget. My advice is you try to speak with her and clear the confusion. She needs our assistance, and we promised it to her. If you can’t go in, why not call her?”

“Do you have her number?” Thor shook his head. “Neither do I.”

 “Then send an email? She did reach out to us through there initially.”

“An email,” he wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. Though the technology was astounding, it was troublesome. But what other choice do I have? “I’ll consider it.”

“Do not wait too long, you may lose your chance. Take it from me, I’ve learned through my arguments with Jane that sometimes swifter actions are better than waiting it out. With that, I must take my leave. I have a meeting with my mission team.” He downed the last of his coffee and left, the room growing quiet and spacious without the larger than life first prince.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @jainaeatsstars @msdjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr

[thatbigbisexual29]

Big Brother Hobie (Across The Spiderverse)

*hypes self up* Ok! My first fic I’m actually posting on this account! I made this a day after I saw the movie and fell head over heels for these two! Mainly Hobie, but Pavitr is such a gem and I couldn’t not write for him! I hope whoever comes across this enjoys it! And thanks to @gladdygirl18 who helped me out with actually posting this :)

Hobie was the big brother. Everyone can agree on that. Although he was a punk anarchist, he secretly cared for all his friends. Even Miles, who was a new face to the party, he felt extra protective of. But the people he was especially fond of were Pavitr, Gewn, and Peter B. Parker. He let Gwen crash at his place because she couldn’t go back to her own universe, so he took care of her. Plus, they loved to hit and scream their emotions into whatever song they jammed to. Pavitr wanted to be in on the punk rock fun, but he only knew how to play the Sarangi. He was very talented and skilled, but the Sarangi wasn’t the instrument for punk bands. They still let him come to their jam sessions! (Although he did try to hold a therapy session for the two once they were done.)

And just like Gwen, Pavitr liked to crash with Hobie on occasion. Hobie was more than welcome to let anyone stay at his London apartment, as long as they didn’t leave too much of a mess. Who was he kidding though? With all his Spider-Maning he could barely keep tabs on it. Until, the blessed, godsent Pavitr dropped by while he was out and cleaned the whole place for him. Hobie almost shed a tear. And Peter? Honestly, Hobie loved taking care of Mayday. And he loved her name. Peter would never admit it, but he talked about baby names with Hobie one night and that was the result. And he’s just a great babysitter too.

So, collectively, their little spider gang unofficially announced him as the ‘big brother.’ Hobie didn’t mind. It actually made him feel all nice inside. Not that we would tell anyone. Gotta keep that tough bravado, eh? But there were moments with his friends he could be soft. Most recent one was with Pavitr when he portaled in, still in his Spider-Man gear.

“What’s this, then? Just got done running the jig?” Hobie nodded to him as he sat on his couch, legs propped up on his coffee table with a remote in hand. He shut off the tv as Pav groaned and flopped onto the couch, chest in Hobie’s lap. Hobie huffed a chuckle, pulling off his friend’s mask and tossing it to the side. “Rough one, was it?”

Pavitr sighed and nodded, face hidden by a couch cushion. Feeling sympathy for the younger man, Hobie patted his back.

“I’s jus’ watchin’ the telly, want me to turn it back on? Background noise an all,” Hobie suggested, but Pav just shook his head.

“How have you been, Hobie? Everything ok in your universe?” Pavitr asked, turning his head to look at his friend. How the hell is this kid such a sweetheart? Hobie wondered as he reached down and ruffled his perfect hair.

“S’all cuppa ‘ere, nofin I can’t handle. Still coals and coke, but what else is new? S’going ons wit you? Got some pain in your noddy’s?” Hobie nearly barked out a laugh at the offended look Pav gave him. Scratch that, he did laugh.

“Excuse me?” he asked. Hobie chuckled into his fist.

“Do your shoulder’s hurt?” he simplified. Pavitr pushed up onto his hands and once he rotated his shoulders, he groaned and fell right back onto Hobie’s lap.

“Problem found. ‘Ere, lemme getcha.” Hobie sat up and cracked his knuckles, getting into position.

“Oh, Hobie, you don’t have to-” Pav started.

“Ah, hush. I owe you one. Now let your brova ‘Obie take care ‘ya.”

And with that, Hobie got to work, he kneaded his thumbs into Pavitr’s shoulders, smirking with satisfaction at the relieved moan that left Pav’s chest. They sat in silence as Hobie worked out all the knots in Pav’s back, going from his shoulders all the way down his spine. The only responses he got were satisfied grunts, groans, sighs, and hums from Pavitr as he melted into Hobie’s lap. The kid was really stiff. He must’ve been overworkin’ himself, Hobie thought, s’not good. I should tell him to calm it down. Before he could get a word out, he heard a small squeak come from Pavitr’s mouth. He looked over to see Pav with both hands covering his lips with his eyes shut.

“Oi, was funny? You havin’ a bubble at me? I ain’t hurtin’ you, am I?” Hobie asked as he leaned up to get a better view of Pav’s face. He didn’t look like he was in pain. When he peaked his eyes open to look at the older man, they had a happy twinkle to them.

“N-No no! I’m- fihihine! But, your hahands…” Pav looked towards his back. Hobie followed his gaze and realized both of his hands were placed around his sides. A mischievous grin crossed Hobie’s face as his eyes flicked back to Pavitr’s face. Pav looked back at him with an adorable expression that just said “I can’t stop you, but I’m gonna try to look cute so you think about not doing it.” Hobie smirked and pinched the back of Pav’s neck, causing him to squeal and arch his neck back.

“Y’know, s’rude to laugh at your friends, Pav,” Hobie purred close to his friend’s ear. Pavitr let out a string of high pitched giggles and grabbed handfuls of the couch cushions beneath him.

“H-Hobieheehee! Wait wait wait! Lehehet’s talk! Dohohon’t- eek!” Pav snickered then squeaked as the older male skittered his long fingers directly up his spine.

“Nah, don’t fink I will. You need some good, ol’ fashioned, relaxation, mate. And I know exactly how to get you relaxed! So jus let big brova ‘Obie… getcha!” Hobie quickly grabbed Pavitr’s sides and squeezed, drinking in his girlish shriek. He laughed and wiggled his fingers into the slightly pudgy flesh. Pavitr thrashed in his lap but ultimately didn’t move from his spot. Just awkwardly pushed himself up before falling back down and beating the arm of the sofa senseless.

“Hohohohohohohohohohohohobieeeeeeeee! It tihihihihihihickles! It tihihihihihckles so bahahahahahahaaaaaad!” Pav whined through his laughs, alternating which side he scrunched up so he looked like a belly dancer. Hobie let out a loud ‘hah!’ when he saw this.

“Oh yeah, show off ya moves, Pav! Should I get a beat goin’? Unce, unce, unce, unce!” With every beat from his mouth, Hobie would do rhythmic squeezes on Pav’s sides. One, two, one one, two, one, two two. This drove the younger man up the wall (hee hee spiderman joke). Pavitr did his best to fight back. This included weak slapping on Hobie’s hands and futile attempts to crawl away. Hobie simply pulled him closer and tickled his ribs and armpits at the same time, switching between the two.

“AAAAAHAhahahahahaha! Hobieheeheeheeheeheeheehee! Pleheheheehehease!” Pavitr begged. Hobie smirked and scratched his rib bones, earning another girly shriek.

“Please wha, Pav? Please… keep ticklin’ ya? I can do that! Or is it please… tickle somewhere else? How about… here!” In a swift motion, Hobie moved his hands from his upper body to the back of his quads, making claws and digging into the flesh. Pavitr screamed and his thrashing renewed.

“Oh, has I found a tickle spot? Right under your buttocks, yea? Mate, that’s kinda embarrassin’. I ain’t one t’judge though. It's hilarious how much you’re tryin’ ta fight me, kiddo. Was it people say when they tickle kids? Oh, roight. Tic-kle tic-kle tic-kle~” Hobie grinned like the Cheshire cat as Pavitr lost his mind. Finally, Pavitr rolled off of Hobie’s lap and crashed to the ground, reflexively thwipping both of Hobie’s hands together.

“O-Ohohokay that's enohohough! I’m relahahaxed! No mohohohore plehehehehease!” Pavitr giggled out, lying flat on his back and sighing once the tickling was finally over. Hobie laughed and fished his pocket knife from his jacket, slicing the webbing from his hands. He tossed the knife on his coffee table and leaned over Pavitr without moving from his couch.

“You alright, yea?” he asked. With a few giggly breaths, Pav nodded. “Good. If I had killed ya, Gwendie would have killed me. ‘N ah don wan that. But seriously, mate, gotta go easy on the Spider-Man work, you feel me? ‘S why you’re so tense. If you keep dat up, y’won’t be able to move. You get what I’m sayin’, yeah? You’ve got an honest jam tart, an das good, just don’t be over usin’ it,” Hobie instructed. He could tell Pav was listening, which was good, but the younger man did cock his eyebrow at the last sentence.

“But… I don’t have a jam tart…?” he said with confusion, looking around to see if he had accidentally brought something jelly filled from his dimension. Hobie snickered then laughed, holding his stomach.

“You are way too funny, man. Go take a shower, you smell.”

“Not as bad as you…” Pavitr mumbled, immediately bolting for Hobie’s bathroom.

“Oi, the nerve of ya! Get back here, ya hooligan bastard!” Hobie was up in a flash, thwipping Pavitr to the floor.

Needless to say, Pavitr got another good taste of what having an older brother is like. And Hobie got to mess around with a best friend. He could get used to being the big brother every now and again.

[nurgletwh]

Update part two (this is the rest of it, there isn’t any more… at the moment O.o).

February 2024

It took all of two days for my BP to return to my ‘normal’ (the value I expected and where it’s been for a few years now).

It took over a week for me to feel mostly better, and two to approach feeling normal.

Chug away through the rest of the month, but I’m not energetic at all.

March 2024

Nothing super-exciting, although I slowly but surely feel more and more drained—almost exactly the way I felt when I went in because my blood sugar was high. Which was very confusing, because it was great.

Late March-April 2024

I felt awful again. I could barely get the energy up to do anything, and I was back to sleeping all the time. 14-16 hours per day on the weekend, falling asleep in my chair when I got home from work, waking up enough to crawl into bed and go right back to sleep for the night. Which also adds up to 14-16 hours per day.

Warning: diet talk

———

Remember how I started Ozempic? It does weird things to how I perceive hunger. Add that to how well I remember to eat and…

At some point I realized that in the last three days the only things I’d eaten each day were a couple of pieces of toast w/peanut butter for breakfast, nibbled on jerky for lunch, and maybe ate some more toast for dinner.

Thinking back further, I couldn’t figure out a recent time frame where I had done better than that. I had weighed myself in early February, and remembered wondering if dropping 25lbs. (11.3kg) in eight weeks was a good idea.

Shit.

(FYI: no*, it isn’t.)

So I got my exhausted ass out of the house and grabbed a case of Ensure, multivitamins, and other snacky crap I knew I’d eat. My goal was to get things back together enough to get the energy to start fixing my diet, nothing more. I knew aiming higher wouldn’t work until after I could do something besides work and nap.

(*Experts recommend an initial weight-loss goal of 5% to 10% of your starting weight within 6 months. For me, it should have taken nearly seven months to hit that 10%. Granted, these rates are for ‘unassisted’ dieting.)

———

It took all of three days for me to feel significantly better. Not great, but better. I still didn’t have much energy, but my sleeping patterns altered drastically. I was still napping after work, but I would wake up two hours later and accomplish something before going to bed. I didn’t accomplish much, but it was more than sleeping and more sleeping.

Things slowly got better, but again, getting to “ok” was faster than getting back to “normal.”

I know I dropped off the face of the earth, but it felt like every time I announced that things went wonky but I was feeling better now and put out a few chapters, things would blow up again. I wanted to make sure things were better this time.

Which was a poor choice; I should at least have posted something that said I was fucked up but working on it. I apologize for that lack of communication, although things did blow up again…

April 26, 2024

TORNADO.

A FUCKING TORNADO WENT RIGHT THROUGH OUR WORKSITE.

FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK!!!

I know I posted about it. It wasn’t very strong (HA!) by the time it came over the hill and destroyed the house at the top of it, merely (MERELY!!) tossing over a few rail cars and flipping a few semi-trailers.

We got lucky. This very same tornado absolutely wrecked Elkhorn (west of Omaha, NE).

I’ve stated I live and work in the Omaha area, so I’m not too worried about posting this, but here is an overlay of that tornado’s path on top of Apple Maps with my little blue dot while sitting at my desk.

May 2024

Most of May went fairly smoothly. I even got a little writing done!

Unfortunately, I had fallen so far behind on projects at work during all of the above that I was now trying to get caught up. Said project was over four months late at this point. I was working a bit late (not crazy-late, but about an extra hour most days) while still drained, so I didn’t have a whole lot of extra mental energy for writing.

I was, however, finally back to plotting and planning! Yay! Progress!

Until… (is anyone shocked at this point?)

The Friday before Memorial Day I felt a bit drained.

I woke up Saturday with a headache, feeling achy and sore. It didn’t get better, so I took my temperature around noon. 100.1ºF.

Wonderful.

I took a Covid test (that’s my default action to feeling crappy now), but it came back negative. Note that I wasn’t coughing, and I didn’t feel particularly short of breath or anything.

Nothing improved over Sunday, but it didn’t change much, either.

Same for Monday (Memorial Day). But this now made three days with a fever (also three consecutive negative Covid tests).

I agreed to @grumpyoldsnake’s and their friend’s demands to get my ass to a doctor the next day if I still had the fever, although I really wasn’t feeling too bad other than achy. Note: still no coughing (I promise this is important).

I woke up in the middle of the night when I heard something that sounded like a goddamn goose in my bedroom.

Have you ever woken yourself up by making some weird-ass noise that you then can’t duplicate? Even though you know you made it?

I was able to duplicate it. Without much issue. It fell under “well, that’s odd,” and I went back to sleep.

A bit later I woke up to a different weird noise, but I was sidetracked by what I heard and felt after I coughed a few times. My chest was making a sound like a freshly opened pop can. When my mouth was open, it was even worse. I could feel it bubbling away (it didn’t hurt).

Fuck.

Guess what?

PNEMONIA!!

Fuck my life.

Prior to Friday, I hadn’t been sick. They tested me for the flu; that was negative.

Pneumonia is almost always a secondary infection, not primary. You have a cold, or Covid, or bronchitis, and it turns into pneumonia when bacteria settle into your irritated bronchi.

Me, on the other hand…

I never really coughed all that much. Reviewing the blood oxygen data from my Apple Watch, I could peg when the infection started really kicking in, although it looks like something started about a week prior to that (when I did a round-trip plane trip, spending five or six hours on a plane and in an airport two days in a row…).

It took a week to get to a place where my breathing to start feeling easier, nearly two before the oxygen levels started crawling back up.

I did start coughing.

And coughing up… liquid. It was the weirdest sensation. I’d cough, and end up with a mouthful of what felt like slightly thick water. It didn’t really taste, and was nearly colorless.

I coughed that shit up for nearly three days.

I never coughed up the stuff that had any sort of color, although it did get thicker and more ‘traditional’ for stuff you cough up when you get sick. Which puts to lie that you can tell you have a chest infection by the color of the crud you cough up. :-/

It took another nearly two weeks after finishing the ten days of antibiotics to feel like my breathing was normal. The first day back to work was one hell of a reality check, though. I hadn’t been moving around much, and I knew I was short of breath, but I made it all of fifty feet from my car, then about ⅓ of the way up the stairs to my office before I had to stop. I couldn’t catch my breath and was dizzy.

That was the first time I thought, “that could have killed me.”

Not walking up the stairs, but what led to me standing on the stairs, gasping like a landed fish.

It was emphatically hammered home when I made a joking comment to a coworker that it thankfully wasn’t that bad.

Her response?

“Oh, no. Your x-ray was bad.”

>.<

I’ve been getting better. My nutrition went sideways again due to being utterly distracted, but I think that is fairly understandable. :-P

I refuse to say “I’m doing fine now!!”

Fate doesn’t need the temptation.

I hope to get back to writing. I hope even more that I can tackle the monster my inbox has become (both at AO3 and my personal email, which has been just as neglected).

Take care, everyone. Stay healthy.

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 12: Guilty

Hyeri began shooting for her new miniseries with lots of enthusiasm. She’s determined to blow everyone away and make JJS see that she doesn’t need fake relationships and other gimmicks to gain viewers. She simply wants to act and be great at it.

Yoongi is still working on his group and solo music, but he also took on a big project for an interactive music exhibit. It’s something he hadn’t done before and he liked the idea of a challenge. However, he didn’t realize how much of a challenge it really would be. It’s more than producing and writing a song. It’s also breaking down every single element of the music in ways he’d never done before. Every instrument, beat, reverb, etc. has to be finely dissected for this exhibit. It’s taking more out of him each day and the looming deadline isn’t much help.

Yoongi and Hyeri have seen less of each other lately. It’s not something new for them, but as usual it’s not exactly easy either. While they’ve been making progress in rebuilding their relationship, it’s still nowhere near 100%, and that only makes these extended times apart even harder.

Hyeri still doesn’t trust Yoongi. She’s happy that they’ve been getting closer again, but she still doesn’t trust him. The less she sees of him the more she worries that he’ll slip back into drinking. She knows he likes to have a glass or two when he’s working, she just hopes that if he does have a drink he doesn’t go overboard.

She’s constantly checking for any signs that he may have slipped up. When he’s not home she’s checking all of his hiding places for new bottles. When he is home she stays close to see if she can smell alcohol on his breath or smell his attempt the cover it up. So far she’s found nothing but she still wants to stay vigilant.

Yoongi knows Hyeri has been working extra hard on this drama. After her falling out with JJS over her unauthorized statement, she’s felt like she has to prove herself even more as an actress. Yoongi can tell she’s been more stressed than ever and he wants to make sure he doesn’t do anything to make it worse.

He hasn’t drank a thing since he’s been back working in the studio. He knows the guys are still trying to keep an eye on him and he knows Hyeri has been digging through his things looking for hidden drinks. He doesn’t blame anyone for it, he put this on himself.

None of that changes the fact that he’s under a lot of stress though. His solo work isn’t so much an issue because he can work on that for as long as he wants and release it whenever he wants. His group work and the special project he took on however have deadlines and it’s weighing him down.

He submitted the songs he had for the group, but there were a lot of changes that were suggested he make on nearly every one of them. Each song had something that wasn’t quite right, or something one of the guys felt was either too much or not enough. He’s starting to feel like he can’t get anything right.

The deadline for his exhibition project is coming closer and that isn’t helping. He’s worked tirelessly on the project but still can’t seem to see the end in sight. He had no idea it would be so labor intensive.

Everyday he leaves the studio to go home he hears the faint whisper of the hidden bottle of whiskey in his car. Everyday he has to use every bit of power in him to ignore the temptation. If Hyeri smells it that could be the end for him.

Then he has a particularly rough day. He can’t take any more. Nothing is going right. His computer crashed before he could save his work and he had to start over. His melodies weren’t flowing right, and his beats were falling flat. He finally walked out of his studio to get some air.

His legs carried him out to his car in the parking garage. He considered going home for the day. Maybe calling it a day early will give him time to relax a little and maybe he’ll feel more refreshed in the morning.

The moment he sits in the driver’s seat he can only sigh, groan, curse, then sigh again. Going home now would just leave more work for him to have to rush through later. He leans his head back and takes a deep breath. He just needs a moment to clear his mind before he jumps back into work.

It’s a long moment. A frustrating moment. He feels so on edge and the only thing he can think to ease his anxiety is a sip from the whiskey in his car. A small sip, nothing crazy. Although a small sip is crazy for him, so he takes more than a sip.

It’s like he lost control of himself for a brief moment. His hands were moving but he wasn’t the one moving them. The moment the dark beverage touched his tongue he felt like an electric current shot through his entire body. It invigorates him so much he can’t help but take another gulp.

“Fuck,” he exhales. That drink shouldn’t feel so good.

He sits a little longer fighting with his better judgement before he finally gets out of his car and heads back to his studio. With the bottle of whiskey tucked into his pocket. He knows he fucked up. The bottle is small, it can’t be that bad.

He gets in the studio and takes another drink. The small bottle is half empty now. He knows he should stop. It’s the only bottle he has so he should save it. It’s too bad that the worst part of him has come out and forced his hand to put the bottle to his lips and finish the rest off.

He immediately throws himself back into his work. It’s strange how he feels more productive now. Maybe it’s the whiskey or maybe it’s the guilt trying to mask itself as productivity. Either way, he’s able to power through and make good progress. By the time he leaves later that night he feels like he’s actually accomplished something.

He gets home, cleans himself up, and slips into bed next to Hyeri who’s already asleep. He makes sure his breath doesn’t have a hint of alcohol smell then allows himself to drift off to sleep.

Yoongi wakes up the next morning to an empty bed. Hyeri has been starting her days extra early for her scheduled shoots. Yoongi typically tries to wake up with her just to see her off, but he’s not always able to do so like today. He slept so hard he didn’t even hear her leave which he typically does. He gets out of bed to get his day started. He makes himself a quick breakfast and gets ready for another day in the studio.

On his way there he’s hit with that sneaky voice telling him he should stop and pick up something to drink along the way. It’s tempting. He feels like he got so much more work done yesterday once he had a drink. He knows its a slippery slope though, and yesterday was only a mistake he made in a moment of weakness. He goes straight to the studio without giving in to the temptation.

Getting himself started is rough. He stares into space for about 20 minutes before he finally snaps out of it and begins working. It’s frustrating. Nothing is flowing. That spark of life he had yesterday is nowhere to be found.

He sits in annoyance a moment before his body falls under the control of some outside force and he taps a message out to one of their managers. He’s not proud of himself. He knows he fucked up. He knows it’s so damn hard for him to stop. He’s so ashamed of himself.

Though he only requested a single bottle of whiskey, his manager returned with that plus a gift with a bottle of cognac from one of the brands the guys represent. They get gifts like that all of the time from sponsors, prospective sponsors, and various companies just trying to get their name out there. The timing of this gift couldn’t have been worse though.

Yoongi knows that if he got the gift, so did the rest of the guys. If the rest of the guys got it then they know he did too. If they discover he had even the smallest sip from the bottle they would notice and probably cause a scene. So he puts the bottle up on his shelf to replace one of the decorative bottles that Namjoon had gotten rid of. If anyone were to come and question him they would see that the unopened bottle is on the shelf untouched.

Instead, he cracks open the bottle of whiskey the manager brought him and takes a big drink. That electric feeling comes back and he feels empowered. He gets back to work feeling the boost of productivity running through him.

Yoongi tends to work long periods of time without a break. He only pulls himself away from work to take a breath and another sip of whiskey when he feels the effects of the last one had already worn off. That’s how his day goes.

The next day isn’t much different. The only change is that he stops by the liquor store on his way to the studio to get himself a new bottle of whiskey to take the place of the one he finished off the day before.

The day after that, he does it again. This time he just buys a bigger bottle so that it will last him a bit longer. However that didn’t work the way he thought it would, so the following day he buys two big bottles. By the end of the week he’s downing at least a big bottle and a half a day.

Then one day, just a week shy of the deadline for his special project, he drinks two bottles of whiskey because he’s so stressed. In his mind it will give him a boost. In reality, he’s practically useless. The additional bottles of tequila and gin he asked a manager to get for him certainly hasn’t helped either.

That night he gets little done. He can’t concentrate and he can hardly see straight. He’s only able to sober up slightly when he gets a text from Hyeri asking when he’d be home. He knows he can’t go home in this state. She’ll no doubt smell it on him and get upset.

“Fuck,” he groans trying to type out a message to her.

The guilt sets in almost immediately after he tells her he’ll stay the night in his studio because he still has much to do. He didn’t want to fuck up again and give her a reason to leave. He felt like he got so lucky with the second chance she gave him, but now he’s realizing that he’s already fucked up that second chance the moment he drank the whiskey he had in his car.

He knows he can’t face her when he’s like this so he tries avoiding her. He stays that night in his studio. He goes home late the next evening knowing she’ll be asleep when he gets there. He washes up and gets in the bed next to her as if he hadn’t spent the majority of the day drinking. When he wakes the next morning she’s already gone. It’s almost as if he doesn’t have to face her at all. He doesn’t have to face the guilt.

Except when she calls him during her breaks and constantly texts him whenever she gets a moment. She may not be able to see him, but the guilt beats him down more and more every time he sees her name show up on his phone. He thought he could stop on his own or at least cut back, but every time he fails.

Hyeri is no fool. She was suspicious of Yoongi before he even gave her a reason to be suspicious. She knew he had a bottle of whiskey in his car. She found it when she was leaving for her shoot one morning and thought she had left her sunglasses in his car. At that time the bottle was still unopened. When she checked a few days later, the bottle was gone.

At the very least she knows he drank the whiskey. His behavior since then has led her to believe that he’s definitely drinking more while he’s in the studio. She knows he’ll shut down if she tries to confront him about it. Even if he admits it to her, she knows he’ll get defensive. Not only that, but she knows he likes to have a drink while he works. While she would prefer if he didn’t drink at all right now, she doesn’t want to seem like she’s attacking him if a small drink at work is all he’s having. Too bad that’s not all he’s having while he’s working.

He’s drowning in another bottle in a desperate attempt to find the motivation to get through his work. Instead he spends much too much time scrolling his phone. He goes from unmotivated to terribly guilty when he comes across an article about Hyeri.

The article talks about Hyeri working on a new drama and how she’s recovered from her car accident. Actually it talks a lot about her accident. It’s not a very long article, but the pictures included are what hit Yoongi the hardest. The first picture is just her smiling face from a red carpet event she attended a year ago. Her sweet smile that he’s fallen head over heels in love with. Then the next picture is one that was taken of her car after her accident. Until now, Yoongi hasn’t seen any photos related to her accident. He had no desire to see the carnage he felt he created. But now that carnage is staring right back at him.

He knew her car had been totaled but he never saw how the front of her car had been completely smashed in. He had no idea she hit the pole so hard that it was left tilted, having to later be replaced. The crushed metal and shattered glass feels like it’s choking him as his eyes remain glued to the photo.

“I should have been with her,” he softly cries to himself. “I’m no good for her.”

The guilt comes pouring out of his eyes and he can’t stop it. He feels so guilty for everything. He wishes he was there for her. He wishes he could have comforted her while she was hurting. He wishes he could have stopped her from going out that night. He wishes he wasn’t such a drunken piece of shit.

Through his tears he searches the internet for a solution to ease his guilt. He feels he needs to do something to make up for everything and more. He wants to give Hyeri something big enough to make up for his infidelity and his excessive drinking that he’s still partaking in behind her back. He hates himself so much.

The next day he can’t bring himself to go into the studio. Hyeri has an evening call time for once so he wants to stay home with her while he can. His guilt is soul crushing so he’d rather stay with her to stay away from temptation than go to the studio and keep making things worse. Because he knows he won’t be able to resist a drink the moment he gets there.

He starts the day making her breakfast. He showers her with love and does everything to make sure she doesn’t have to lift a finger. Hyeri relishes in the princess treatment that he’s giving her. She mentioned being a bit sore in the shoulders from yesterday’s shoot so Yoongi gave her a massage when she was done with breakfast.

Throughout the day he tells her how much he loves her and how lucky he is to have her. He mentions feeling like he’s still not enough, but she scolded him as she always does when he says those things. She knows he’s not without faults, and neither is she, but she wouldn’t still be there if she didn’t feel so strongly for him. She has hope that they can survive anything if they can survive all they’ve gone through during his tour. She knows she’s probably being naive as usual, but she’s always felt Yoongi had something special. Something she’d never experienced before. A love she never knew existed.

He caters to her every need. Makes her the most delicious food while keeping her diet in mind. He never makes eye contact with people when he’s speaking to them, but he’ll always make eye contact with her. He makes sure she has everything she needs to get through her shoot and throws in a couple of snacks that she can munch on if she gets a little hungry. He offers to drive her to set where he’ll pick her up later once she’s done. She tries to tell him there’s no need for him to go out of his way, but he insisted.

After he gets her dropped off for her shoot he begins putting his plan in motion. He heads home to switch cars. He takes Hyeri’s rental back to the rental lot. From there he gets a manager to take him to a luxury dealership where the 4-door navy blue luxury sedan he bought for Hyeri is waiting for him.

She told him not to buy her a car. She told him a few times. To Hyeri it’s too much and she would feel bad accepting something so extravagant. To Yoongi, it’s only a small piece of a larger operation to show her how much he loves her and definitely not to try masking his own guilt for slipping into his addiction again.

Yoongi makes a few more stops before he gets home. He starts by setting up the large flower arrangement near the front door. It will be the first thing she sees when she walks inside. From there he has an assortment of Hyeri’s favorite cuts of meat. She enjoys having her own bbq experience at home so Yoongi made it happen with a table grill set up on their balcony outside. In the bathroom is a full spa set equipped with face masks, bath bombs, body scrub, and moisturizers. Laying across the bed is a cozy robe and fuzzy slippers for her to slip into after her relaxing bath. Along with that is the necklace he bought for her in New York. He never sent it with the other gifts he got her because he wanted to give it to her when he got back. Of course things didn’t quite go to plan so he had it tucked away in one of his bags where he’d forgotten about it. Now he’ll finally give her the lavish necklace that he knows she’ll love.

Yoongi set up what he thought would be the perfect evening for Hyeri. He set up everything she loves and bought her a car that he knows she’s had on her wishlist. The final touch before he left later that night to pick her up, was the trail of rose petals he left going from the front door to the bedroom. She always loves that extra romantic touch.

Yoongi drove Hyeri’s new car to pick her up from her set. Since she wouldn’t know to look for that car, he parked and stood outside waiting for her to emerge from her trailer. He’s nervous and he isn’t sure why. Would she be upset with him for buying her a car when she told him not to? Would she immediately realize that he’s doing this because he feels guilty for relapsing?

“Hey!” Hyeri says approaching him. She has a big smile that lets Yoongi know she had a good day. “What’s this?” She asks looking at the shiny new car she hasn’t seen before.

“Your ride,” Yoongi says opening the passenger side door for her.

“What?” She asks while getting in anyway.

Yoongi runs around the car and hops into the driver side. He’s been sober all day and he’s proud of himself. He flashes his big gummy smile at Hyeri then pulls off to head home. He feels invigorated. Sure his guilt is the reason why he’s doing this, but the anticipation to see how she’ll react to it all makes him ecstatic.

When they arrive home Yoongi opens the door for her so she can enter first. She immediately gasps at the trail of rose petals across the floor and the large floral arrangement in front of her.

“Yoongi,” she says admiring the flowers. “What is all of this?”

“There’s more,” he smiles gesturing for her to follow the trail to the bedroom.

Hyeri walks along the fallen petals to the bedroom where she’s greeted by her new robe and spa set. She’s in awe at everything Yoongi has put together, and even more impressed when she feels how soft and cozy the robe is.

“Yoongi,” she says turning to look at his smiling face standing in the bedroom doorway. “You did all of this?”

“Yes,” he says stepping towards her. “It’s all for you, babe. The flowers, the dinner I prepared, the robe, the car. It’s all yours.”

“The….car?” She thinks a moment at the car he brought her home in. The one that did look suspiciously like the car she had been wanting for a while. “Yoongi, no.”

“It’s yours,” he says handing her the key.

“Yoongi,” she says trying to hold back tears. “How? I mean, why? For me? Why?”

“Why not?” He smiles. “You deserve all of it and more.”

“But-“

He interrupts her by placing his lips on hers. She leans in wanting to savor this feeling of him being so warm and affectionate. He hasn’t kissed her like this in so long that she almost forgot what it feels like. He’s so delicate. So gentle with her.

“I love you,” he says pulling her into him tighter. “I know I’m a fuck up, but I love you more than anything in this world.”

“Yoongi,” she says softly as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done,” he continues. “I know this isn’t enough to make up for all the shit I’ve done, but I will make it up to you forever, Hyeri. I love you.”

“Baby, this is all so…” she pauses unsure of the word she’s looking for to describe how full her heart feels right now. Instead she leans in and kisses him gently. “I love you so much.”

She kisses him again lingering against his soft lips. Everything she’s feeling is so overwhelming that all she can do is press her body into him harder. She continues kissing and pressing him until he falls back onto the bed with her still attached to his lips.

Hyeri can’t help herself. She hasn’t felt Yoongi like this in too long. Certainly not since before he went on tour. She straddles him and pushes his back flat on the bed. She goes in for another kiss, then slides her tongue into his mouth. Not tasting alcohol on him only fuels her more. He did all of this for her and he’s sober. This is the Yoongi she fell in love with.

Yoongi can’t even comprehend how good he feels right now. He’s missed her taste and her touch. He’d been so guilt ridden that he tried to avoid intimacy with Hyeri. He craved her touch but felt like a shitty person when he thought of how much he hurt her. But now that guilt is taking a backseat to the feeling of her removing his shirt and kissing a trail from his chest all the way down to his belly button.

Hyeri is eager and assertive in a way she’s never been before. She’s usually the submissive one. The one who simply lays back and lets Yoongi take control and send her around the world. Not this time. She’s overwhelmed with so much feeling that she hardly even gives him a chance to take a breath. She has a new drive and motivation that’s powering her to remove Yoongi’s pants and begin massaging his growing hardness with just the amount of pressure she knows drives him wild.

All Yoongi can do is let out a breathy groan at the sensation he gets from her touch. This is the side of her he’s not used to. This confidence and control she’s showing as she removes her own clothes and makes herself comfortable straddling his lap again. She goes in for another kiss and he can feel her grinding her wet pussy against him. He’s about to go feral.

His hands trace every part of her body while she’s still attached to his lips. Once she feels he’s reached the pinnacle of longing, she lifts herself then slowly, gently, and delicately slides down his shaft taking every part of him in. The mewl she unleashes gives him chills.

Her love is incredible. The way she has full control as she bounces up and down is insatiable. He reaches for her breasts and teases her nipples pulling a heavy moan out of her. Her breaths increase and all he can do is marvel at the way she starts to unravel on top of him.

She leans into him while still bouncing her hips up and down on him. Her mouth finds his neck and she bites him like she never has before. While it isn’t unusual for her to nip at his skin, this time was much different. She was still gentle as ever, but he could tell she wanted to leave a mark with that bite.

That’s exactly what she did. That was her goal. He’s hers and she’s his and she wants it to be known. For the first time, after the fighting and heartache, she doesn’t give a damn who knows about her and Yoongi. She wants the world to know.

Yoongi hisses when she slides her tongue over the mark she left. It stings so good to him. He tightens his grip around her body bracing for his impending explosion. He can tell she’s close to her end too.

She keeps her rhythm until she can’t will her body to go any longer. She’s trying to find stability when Yoongi pulls her even closer into his body and begins picking up where she left off. His hips piston into her until she lets out a loud whine and goes limp into him.

He chases his undoing with the sound of her trying to catch her breath in his ear. She means everything to him. More than he can even describe. He can’t believe he had ever been so stupid to get so drunk on tour that he let complete strangers give him blow jobs without a second thought.

No one could ever love him the way Hyeri loves him. No one could ever make him feel as good as she does when he hits his climax and cums to the sound of her moaning in his ear. She’s the best thing that ever happened to him and he did the dumbest, most unforgivable things in his mind while on tour.

He holds her tight, cradling her head and holding her against his body. He tries to catch his breath but he suddenly finds himself trying to hold back tears. He’s never loved someone like this in his life and no one has ever shown him the level of unconditional love that Hyeri shows him.

He slowly pulls out of her but keeps his hold on her body. She softly kisses his neck giving him a warm yet guilty feeling.

“I love you,” Yoongi says. He wishes he could say more but if he opens his mouth again he may lose the fight against his guilty tears. All he can do is continue holding on to her as if she would disappear forever if he let go. She means the world to him but he’s convinced he’s a piece of shit. He knows he’s a piece of shit.

[secretobsessionstuff]

ok ill start by saying no problem if this takes a year!! you're clearly super busy + i will love reading all the fics that come before my ask hehehe. im on the dakota/blair bandwagon lately. for dakota, in a future fic could he stuff himself with a meal, but not drink enough water and have a very thick, dense problem on his hands when he finally starts puking forreal. blair could help him get it up, with rubs and words of encouragement? it makes me giddy to think about !! thats my request if you ever have time and if it sounds good. now off to read some more fiiic!!

Hello lovely Anon! I bet this legitimately took a year so I thank you for your immense patience. This is halloween themed because I wrote it way back in October lol 🧡

-----------------

Halloween fell on a Monday night that year, meaning Dakota and Blair acted like responsible adults by staying home. Work the next day meant they couldn’t spend the night at a party. Besides, most of their friends were pretending to be adults too, so there weren’t many parties being thrown in the first place. 

Dakota felt like a proper, boring middle-aged man as prepared to spend his night giving out candy. He sat on the porch, wearing fall gloves and a Halloween scarf. Candy corn danced across the scarf. It certainly was cold enough to justify the warm attire. Luckily, he could get away with a hoodie instead of a coat, so he was comfortable as he waited for children to walk up to the house. 

A bucket of chocolate bars and chips kept Dakota company. Though the candy couldn’t talk about its day, it was a decent substitute for his fiancée. Blair promised she would join him outside once she finished some extra work that she hadn’t been able to accomplish at the office. So, Dakota had to entertain himself with Kit Kats and mini bags of potato chips. It was relatively easy to forget his loneliness when his fingers were covered in Dorito Dust. He was in the middle of licking the cheesy residue off his fingers when Blair popped her head out the front door. 

“Hey! Those are for the kids,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“What kids?” Dakota spread his arms out, gesturing to the quiet street. “I’ve been out here an hour, and so far I’ve seen a pirate, a banana, and a something from Minecraft.” 

“That’s it?” Blair stepped outside in her socks and crossed her arms over her chest to stay warm. She looked up and down the street. She could see one or two families making their way to each house. Many houses on the street were dark. It made her pout. “Where is everyone?” 

“I don’t think there’s many kids in our neighbourhood,” Dakota said around a mouthful of chocolate. The Mars bar he chewed on was nearly frozen. It gave his jaw a workout to simply bite down of the gooey thing. Blair saw him reaching for another piece of candy but didn’t say anything. Her shoulders dropped in defeat. 

“Sit with me,” Dakota requested, eyeing the empty chair next to him. “You gotta be done working now.” 

“I’m almost there.” 

“Well, maybe you should…” –he opened his hand to reveal a Kit Kat resting on his palm— “take a break.” 

Blair chuckled at him before swiping the chocolate bar from his hand. She bit the thing in half without breaking apart the sticks, you know, like a monster. 

Dakota gawked at her. “How could you—No, no, get out of my face.” He waved her away with an exaggerated flick of his wrist. “You disgust me.” 

“You’re a child.” Blair stuck her tongue out at him. It still had chocolate on it. And yes, she saw the irony perfectly well. Before going back inside, she turned around to say, “Oh, I’m also making food, so you don’t need to be snacking on candy.” 

“I can do what I want because I’m an adult.” He threw a candy wrapper at her. It landed two millimetres from his own foot. He just stared down at it, the sting of betrayal in his heart. Blair laughed at him and left him on his own again. 

Dakota still had a silly smile on his face when the next trick or treaters showed up. Finally, more kids! These two were dressed as dogs with shiny black makeup on their noses. Dakota was delighted to see that the parents had whiskers and patches drawn on their faces as well. He waited for the kids to say their line before dropping candy in their bags. The sad turnout this year made him overly generous. He gave them each two bags of chips and a handful of chocolate bars as opposed to the standard two. He finished by saying Merry Christmas, to which the kids giggled and corrected the silly man. 

And that was it for a while. Dakota went back to snacking because that was the only thing to do. The big box of chocolate they bought came with four different bars, so obviously he had to have one of each. Then two more. Then another two. Pretty soon the pocket of his hoodie was stuffed with candy wrappers. The chocolate made his mouth sticky, and the salty chips made him wish he brought his water bottle outside with him. Unfortunately, he was too lazy to get up, so he suffered with the taste of caramel on his tongue. Truly it was torture, but for some reason he plunged his hand back into the candy bowl. 

As promised, Blair finally joined him on the porch. He told her about the horrifying monsters and trendy video games characters that he encountered all by himself. He even had to resist the urge to run away when a bottle of ketchup came asking for candy. 

Blair glanced at the bowl. She was pleased to see it was significantly less full. “So, more people showed up then?” 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Dakota mumbled after burping into his fist. God, if only there had been more trick or treaters, Dakota might not have felt so full just then. 

“You didn’t!” 

He looked down at his lap, knowing that far too many candy wrappers were shoved into his pockets. And far too many sweets were shoved into his belly. “I’m fine,” he insisted when Blair give a surprised look. 

“I know you’re fine. It’s the kids I’m worried about.” 

“There’s plenty more candy, Bee.” 

She crossed her arms but conceded because she knew he was right. There were more treats, yet less and less trick or treaters. 

Blair had almost settled into her chair, when she jumped up. “Oh pizza. I made pizza.” She looked back and forth at Dakota and the bowl of candy. “That is, if you’re still hungry.” 

“You think I’d say no to pizza?” 

So, they ate their pizza outside, hoping that more kids would show up. A few did and they got enough candy for the entire year. 

Of course, Dakota did not say no pizza, but he did have less slices than he normally would. Halfway through his third slice, he realized that he was unusually full from the sweets he had earlier. It was a challenge to swallow the last bite because his mouth was terribly dry and his belly was terribly stuffed with food. 

“Shoot, I forgot to bring out drinks,” Blair said, as if she were reading his mind. But the both of them were comfy and couldn’t bring themselves to stand. And anyway, a giant inflatable t-rex was walking up to them which understandably stole their attention. 

After wishing the t-rex a happy Halloween, Dakota let a burp rumble up from his chest. He’d been holding it in while they spoke to the kid and her family. He could feel the pressure building in his throat. When he finally released the burp, it came up gooey and thick. It was the type of burp that brought him dangerously close to barfing in his mouth. Dakota shivered as he swallowed acid.

“Wow,” Blair said in response to the deep belch. “You must have been holding that one in.” 

Dakota grimaced and rubbed his chest. “Didn’t want to be rude.” 

“Rude to the t-rex?” 

“The kid was standing right in front of me, what did you want me to do?” 

Another belch burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his tongue with the taste of tomato sauce and chocolate—a weird combination that made him shudder with nausea. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” 

“Your stomach upset?” 

Dakota nodded. “Feels like a fucking brick.” He used his fingertips to press down onto his abdomen. It was bloated and noisy. Grumbles and whines emanated from his gut. 

The tightness became too much to bear, so he stood up. Hopefully, moving around would help his stomach digest the sticky mess faster. 

For the first time that night, Dakota was glad that there weren’t many people out trick or treating. It was getting too late for kids now anyways, so he was likely safe to burp without fearing that strangers were about to walk up to him. 

Oh, but he did more than burp. He groaned and whined as he paced nervously. This was bad; he hadn’t realized how full he was until he stood up. He felt the food in his stomach shift and tumble together like one big gooey ball. He kneaded his belly, hoping to coax a bubble of air out of his system. His stomach was rock hard beneath his hand. 

“Fuck, Bee, this really hurts.” Despite the cold air, sweat coated his brow. 

Blair stood with him, worried by this sudden development. “Are you going to be sick?” 

“I’d like to. I’m way too full right now.”

Dakota bent forward with his hands on his knees. He tried to force up more burps, hoping that would give his stomach the go-ahead to empty itself. He should have felt bad for wasting perfectly tasty candy, but all he felt was an intense need to relieve the ache. A grating sound gurgled in his throat as his belly spasmed. 

The organ gave a small heave, sending up thick saliva and a pathetic amount of sick. Dakota spat a thick glob onto the ground with a moan. An uncomfortable chill zipped down his spine when the horrendous texture touched his tongue. He could fell chunks of sick trying to come up his throat, but it wasn’t moving. He retched again, his back arching violently. Still nothing came up. 

“Baby, that sounds horrible,” Blair cooed, placing a hand on his back. “Just let it out.” 

“I can’t,” he groaned. “It won’t come up. I wish—” he sniffled. “—I wish there were more liquid in my stomach. You know, to get things moving.”

“I’ll get you some water.” She gave his back a firm pat before leaving. 

Dakota breathed deeply through his nose. For a moment, he entertained the idea of jumping to get things rolling but decided that was a stupid idea. It would surely give him heartburn on top of the nausea. He may have felt like a child who devoured too much candy, but what he said to Blair earlier was right; He was an adult and he just had to suffer through the pain. No jumping. Just wait. 

Luckily his patience paid off because a minute later, his stomach lurched on its own. 

A thick wave of vomit came rushing up his throat. He felt the chunks in his mouth for a second before the sick splattered at his feet. He was far from done. Another guttural retch tore up his throat. It was empty. Dakota huffed and hoped the next lurch would be productive. 

Blair came back with his water bottle just in time to see him choke up a mouthful of dense vomit. He had to spit it out because it wasn’t flowing on its own. She was surprised to see that there was already a sizeable puddle at his feet. 

He managed to take in a sharp inhale in between bouts, shooting a miserable look at his fiancée 

Blair pouted at him and began rubbing big circles on his back. “At least you’ll start feeling better now.” 

Dakota hugged his middle. “There’s more. I can feel it.” He winced and pressed his hand right below his rib. “Can you help me? Maybe rub my stomach?” 

“Chug this water first.” She handed him the bottle and watched his throat bob as he drank. He kept a hand on his bloated belly. 

A hearty belch burst from his mouth when he finished. Saliva dripped from his lips. 

“Here we go,” Blair said, gently placing both her hands on his stomach. She used the heel of her hand to massage the area. Her touch coaxed out another wet burp almost immediately. “Oh, that’s it. Lean forward.”  

Dakota put his hands on his knees again to get his stomach at a better angle. That, coupled with the fact that Blair applied the right amount pressure, meant that the next wave came up easily. It was wet and fell past his lips like a waterfall. 

“Yes, Kota. Get it all up. That’s it.” Blair somehow knew when to use a gentle touch and when to go firmer. With every move she made him feel a little bit better. She kept whispering by his ear, telling him that he was doing good. She could feel the tension in his back melt off his tired muscles. 

With one last heave, Dakota brought up everything in his stomach. The last remnants of chocolate and candy splattered into the impressive puddle that he made. 

Finally, he stood up straight, no longer feeling that uncomfortable fullness. His throat was raw, and his abs were on fire, but he was free of the pressure and the ache. 

He was not, however, free of the embarrassment that came with the overindulgence. He let out a long exhale and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I really needed that.” 

“I know.” Blair grinned at him. “You must be tired after that. Ready to get your jammies on and brush your teeth?” 

“Shut up. We must never speak of what happened on this frightful Hallows Eve.” 

“It’ll make a good cautionary tale. Kids need to know the dangers of too many sweets.” 

“And not enough hydration.” 

Blair shook her head at him. “That too.” She grabbed his arm and led him inside. “Seriously, how’s your stomach doing now?” 

“It hurts. Never underestimate the importance of drinking water.” 

She chuckled softly. “I’ll try to remember that next time you get your hands on candy.” 

[thesconesyard]

Where the West Begins

4. Strange Hoofbeats

It was a long day. The sun beat down and McCoy’s head still pounded, even after more than a few cups of Christine’s extra strong coffee. McCoy stood up straight and stretched his back.

“Take it ye liked at least part of yer gift,” Scotty chuckled next to him as they worked.

“I could do without the headache,” McCoy laughed back. “But both were nice.” He flexed his hands in the new work gloves. His own had been wearing thin across the palms and Scotty was right, he would like to keep his hands from getting too rough.

The sound of hooves reached them as they worked.

“Who’s going out?” Scotty wondered aloud.

McCoy shook his head. “Those are coming in.”

Scotty stopped for a moment and listened. “Aye ye’re right. Did someone go after breakfast?”

“Dunno,” McCoy said with a shrug.

“Maybe a visitor,” Scotty. “Maybe Mr. Herndorff coming to talk to Jim.”

“Could be.”

Soon the people from the Enterprise ranch were expected in the city for Khan’s trial. Herndorff from the neighboring ranch had offered to send a few men over to look after things until everyone got back.

“No, Miss Gaila said I was to give it straight into Dr. McCoy’s hands and no one else,” said a frustrated voice coming near.

“Alright,” Chekov said, sounding annoyed. “I think he and Mr. Scott were over this way.”

McCoy and Scotty looked up as Chekov and another young man came around the corner.

“Ahh, Doctor, Mr. Mitchell has a letter for you,” Chekov said.

McCoy frowned, but moved forward as the other young man held forth an envelope.

“Miss Gaila was adamant that only you take it sir.”

“Well, tell her thanks. Job done as asked,” said McCoy, still looking down at the envelope and wondering what Gaila, who ran the saloon in town, could be sending. He looked up at the man and nodded.

“I’ll be on my way then. Gentlemen,” Mr. Mitchell nodded his head and turned around.

“What is Gaila sending ye?” Scotty asked curiously.

At once McCoy knew what the letter was.

“Oh!” He stuffed the envelope inside a pocket. “Probably something from Geoff she wanted to pass on,” he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.

Scotty frowned at him, but turned back to their work. “Ok.”

It took until after lunch before McCoy was able to get away from everyone and open the envelope. He had offered to help Christine and Uhura with the dishes and afterwards had gone to a peaceful corner of the house.

A reply came to your letter. I’ve got it locked up safe. I thought you’d want to keep other eyes from seeing it, seeing as how secretive you were. When you want it, come on in. —Gaila

Trepidation went through the doctor. What would the reply say? He sighed and then nodded determinedly to himself as he stood up. Quickly he stepped into the empty kitchen and opened the stove. The coals were banked and he held the letter in until it caught fire. He watched the flames spread up the edge of the paper for a moment, then closed the stove again and headed back out to work.

Scotty was curious, McCoy could tell, but he didn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask maybe, McCoy wasn’t quite sure. Either way McCoy gave it a few days before he headed to the pasture and whistled for Honey.

Jim had set Scotty and Chekov working on fences in the north pasture and McCoy hoped he wouldn’t be missed for a while. He saddled up Honey and headed towards town, nerves still twisting in his belly on what the reply letter might say.

Gaila’s was nearly empty when McCoy arrived in town, though he knew as the afternoon wore on it would fill up. The owner wasn’t in sight as McCoy walked in, so he strode to the bar.

“Dr. McCoy,” the bartender greeted him. “Haven't seen you in a while. Can I get ya something?”

“No thanks,” McCoy said, waving a hand. “Is Miss Gaila in?”

“Yes sir. I’ll let her know you’re here.” With a quick nod of his head the man went along the bar and down a hallway where McCoy knew the woman had her office.

“She says to come on back Doc,” the bartender said when he returned a minute later.

McCoy thanked the man and headed down the hallway. Politely he knocked on the open door frame and waited until Gaila called him in.

“It’s good to see you! Was wondering when you’d come in. Have a seat.” Gaila pointed to a chair by her desk.

“Thank you,” he said as he sat.

“Let me just get…” Gaila turned around to a safe behind her. “Didn’t know how secret you wanted it, but you did say lives could be at stake.” She rifled through a few papers. “Here it is.” She closed the safe then turned back around.

McCoy took it carefully.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Gaila said, getting up from her desk. “Just come on out when you’re done.”

McCoy nodded and thanked her again as the door closed. He looked at the writing on the envelope. His name, addressed in care of Gaila, in tall thin letters. Slowly he opened the envelope, nervous about the contents. A single sheet. He double checked the envelope before setting it aside and unfolding the letter with his heart pounding against his chest.

Once. Twice. A third time he read the message.

His racing heart slowed, and McCoy stood, smile slowly spreading on his face.

[sablesides-writing-corner]

My Muse's Mirror (Pt.2)

-------------------------

The dread set in once Virgil realized it was nearly five in the morning and Roman still hadn't come in to tell him to go to bed.

It wasn't the kind of dread that made him think his beloved was dying of course, but it was dread nonetheless.

“Roman? Is everything ok? Are you just asleep?” Virgil whispered as he approached the main bedroom.

The racking chorus of coughs that followed was all the answer he needed.

“Right! Well- you are not going into work tomorrow- and I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight-” Virgil said, Roman only responded with a feeble thumbs up and another outburst of coughing.

It was going to be a long night.

Virgil plopped himself back down on the couch, mourning the loss of warmth at not sleeping in the same bed as his knight in shining bother, but safety was safety- he wasn't about to get himself sick and risk not being able to take care of Roman.

Roman still wasn't awake by the time Virgil tore himself up off the couch, electing to start the day with a completely normal and healthy 3 cups straight of coffee with extra extra sugar.

Then it was time to get started on The Soup.

The Soup, as Virgil remembered it, was a longtime ancestral recipe of his families, which was supposed to cure any sickness, and hey, it did its job on him when he was a kid, why not try it out now.

So Virgil got out the biggest cooking pot he could find, and got to work.

It was a long, grueling, sweaty few hours later when the thing was finally done, and the kitchen smelled so alarmingly of backyard herbs that Virgil wouldn't be surprised if the smell was still there by Christmas.

And, just in time, he heard the dismayed groaning of Roman finally waking up from what Virgil could probably only describe as a brief coma.

“Alright big guy- I've got something that might help” Virgil said as he finished ladelling some of The Soup into a bowl.

“I feel like I got hit by like. Six buses.” was all Roman could manage to get out.

“Summer sickness'll do that to you- now eat up before I start spooning it in for you,” Virgil said with a laugh. Once he was sure Roman would finish the food on his own he went back to the kitchen to get the rest of The Soup into a suitable container.

He also took it upon himself to call into Roman's work to confirm his sick day- or days, if necessary- and muttered a silent prayer that it was his nice coworker that answered the phone this time.

Then it was time for the dreaded family phone call.

“Where is my ailing baby brother! I've got presents!” Remus called as he burst through the door.

“Remus that was locked,” said Virgil in exasperation.

“Oh- well! It's probably not broken!” Responded the man, ruffling Virgil's hair- as if it wasn't messy enough already from the humidity in the kitchen.

“He's still moping around in bed, hasn't gotten up pretty much all day,” Virgil answered Remus’ earlier question.

“Shouldn't be contagious- seems like it's just a cold so we're hoping it'll go away soon,” Virgil said, pulling out his drawing tablet while Remus had his little visiting hour with his brother.

It was a few hours before Remus left, and Virgil felt like his social battery was almost completely worn out.

“You know, you could still go to the carnival without me- if it's still in town,” Roman said in a raspy tone from the bedroom.

“I mean what else am I gonna do? Buy more jewelry?” Virgil said.

“I mean it! I think it'd be fun to hang out on your own for a bit- or invite Janus or something-” Roman continued, he seemed. . . Urgent. . . About it, almost weirdly so.

“I- alright- alright fine- I'll just- call Janus I guess-” Virgil said, pulling out his cellphone.

“So. . . Where did you say this carnival was? I thought it was open till the end of next month?” Janus said, looking around confused at the very much empty lot.

“Well. I can say it was here yesterday because I have picture- maybe something happened and they had to-” Virgil paused for a second as something glinted in the corner of his eye. He took a few steps towards whatever it was, and found a pendant lying on the ground, a spider holding a large purple gem hanging off of the chain.

“This that necklace you were going on about?” Janus asked, Virgil nodded, eyes still transfixed on the jewelry.

“Well, they left it here, their loss I guess- shall we?” Janus asked.

Virgil still didn't respond. Something about the necklace was. . . Familiar. . . He just wasn't entirely sure what.

“Virgil. . . Virgil. . . Virgil!” Virgil was finally jolted back into realty by the sound of his cousin's yelling in the background.

“Oh! Uh- sorry- got uh- distracted-” Virgil responded, Janus looked bemused.

“Let's- let's just get home ok? I think you've got a stuffy nosed prince to be looking after, hm?”

“I uh- yeah. . . Yeah. . .”

He'd worry about the necklace later, after he washed it off thoroughly.

Roman still wasn't any better when he got home, which was expected- Virgil hadn't thought he'd cured him, but he'd at least expected him to get a little better.

But he'd been wrong- in fact Roman almost seemed to have gotten worse. . .

“Goodnight hun,” Virgil said as he left the bathroom to go lay down on the couch.

He stared at the necklace in his hands for a long time, turning it over in his palms, running his thumb along the purple gem in the center.

He knew this necklace from somewhere. . . He just couldn't remember. And that was very, very inconvenient.

He set the pendant down on the table next to the couch and decided to leave the pondering for tomorrow, worrying about it now wouldn't do him any good, probably. . .

[keneestorytimelibrary]

Rockey Chapter 25

“So, who is this Rockey person?” Ivan asked Antonio as soon as Rockey and Raffa left. The question threw Antonio off, and for a split second, Antonio thought of punching Ivan.

“Rockey is none of your concern.” Antonio said, walking towards the main entrance. He would rather wait for Raffaele at the ice cream parlor, than stick around with Ivan. Unfortunately for Antonio, Ivan followed him.

“I would like to ask this Rockey girl out on a date. Is she dating anyone?” Ivan asked boldly.

Antonio nearly tripped on himself. Was Ivan asking permission to date Rockey? Antonio was so confused and shocked that he couldn’t respond to Ivan.

Ivan, sensing Antonio’s hesitation, continued on. “Unless she is dating the Italian?”

It was going to be a cold day in Hell before Antonio handed Rockey over to Ivan. He knew she was arguing a lot more with Raffaele, but still… He knew that Raffaele wouldn’t give her up without a fight.

“I will call upon her in a few days.” Ivan said, before he and his men walked towards the entrance.

Just as he reached the door, Ivan turned and said, “He has gotten a lot...calmer over the years.”

Antonio was quiet at first. The Raffaele they knew a few years ago was a completely different person. To the world, he was a monster: the first born son of Don Bianchi. He was raised to be a killer/monster in order to continue the family business. The very few who actually knew him, saw a softer side. It was a side of him that was buried underneath tons of anger, betrayal, resentment, and responsibility. It took A LOT for Raffaele to break free from it. The last thing anyone wanted, especially Antonio, was for someone like Ivan to mess up Raffaele’s progress. 

“He has. For the sake of his siblings, I’d recommend that you don’t try to bring the old Raffaele back.” Antonio warned sternly.

Ivan chuckled a bit, but said nothing. He turned back around, and left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The ice cream parlor was a few blocks away from the Academy. It was owned by an elderly couple who lived in the neighborhood for a few decades. Sometimes, when the kids were having a bad day, or when Rockey was just hungry (which was often), they’d grab some ice cream. They’ve done this so many times, they were already known customers.

“Oh Happy Days” Ice Cream Parlor, was a small store tucked between a pizzeria and a bank. By the time Raffaele, Antonio, and Rockey joined the small group, the small parlor was packed.

The car drive was completely quiet; the incident with Brittney was far away from Rockey’s mind. Now the thing that was bothering her was the nurse’s comment. It bothered her, because it didn’t make sense. She would just have to ignore the weird feeling growing inside…

Though Ivan and his men were there, they made sure to put some distance between themselves and Raffaele. Ivan’s eyes never left Rockey though. Thankfully, Raffaele didn’t seem to notice. Antonio made sure to stay close to Rockey.

“Rockey!” Matteo exclaimed. He ran to her with a large bowl of Cookies n Creme ice cream (Rockey’s favorite). “Mr. Wilson made it extra good today!”

Rockey couldn’t help but smile. Despite the slight pain, SHE WAS GOING TO EAT AT LEAST TWO. She didn’t care if she looked like the guy from “The Silence of the Lambs”.

“Rockey...are you ok?” Sofi asked softly. She was very scared to approach Rockey, but after a little bit of coaxing from her grandmother and Matteo, she managed to utter four words.

“I’m chilling like a villain.” Rockey said, giving her a wink. Sofi giggled, and quickly retreated back to her grandmother.

“You were complete bad-ass Rockey.” Nicoló said with awe. “But I hope she didn’t rough you up too hard.”

“Please, you should’ve seen the cunt!” Antonio whispered in excitement, making sure to not upset the kids around them. “She’s going to smell like a burning toilet FOR WEEKS!”

Rockey laughed, ignoring the pain again. For the first time, in a long time, Rockey felt a heavy weight lift off her shoulders. Though it had been years since she last saw Brittney, and the fear and anxiety she had lingered for years, she handled herself. Granted, she had wished it didn’t involve Matteo, but that was something that couldn’t be helped.

There was this growing, nagging feeling inside her. Maybe she should visit her grandma? She hadn’t called in a few weeks, nor has she had the chance to visit since she started working. Maybe she should invite her over?

Rockey found herself looking at Raffaele; she had to force herself to move her line of vision away from him. When Rockey wasn’t paying attention, Raffaele would quickly catch a glimpse of her. Nicoló sat beside Raffa, grinning hard at the two of them.

They stayed in the ice cream parlor for another half hour, before departing. Raffaele had received a call from Celia, and he, Antonio, and Nicoló left shortly after dropping Matteo and Rockey off.

[gaybananabread]

If it’s ok for request Lers willow and Gus lee hunter? He’s acting strange because of he’s fear of them finding out about his secret so they try and cheer him up

Sure! Hunter is the fandom's baby, and nobody's gonna argue with me. I'm sorry this took so long, my brian didn't want to work with school.

°°°

Lee: Hunter

Ler: Willow, Gus

Summary: Hunter's worried about the others finding out about his secret. Willow and Gus have a way to cheer him up. (angsty at the start, cuz why not)

Warnings: Owl House spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!

He was walking. It looked like the forest, but darker. Shadows lept at him, ominous and evil-like lights flashed in the darkness, convulsing under the moonlight. A loud groan broke through the trees, sending a shiver down he spine. Now he was running.

To where, he didn't know. He had this overwhelming sense of fear, driving him to go faster and faster with every step. His heart hammered in chest, nearly downing out the loud, angry groans from the trees. Nearly.

He had wound up in a clearing, eerie and desolate. There was nowhere to go, the treeline far to thick for navigating. A loud SNAP echoed just a few feet behind him. When he whipped his head around, all he saw was the jaws of Belos, his rotten nub-teeth and thick blue veins.

CRUNCH

Hunter woke up screaming. It had been like this almost every night, one Belos nightmare after another. That night's, however, had been the worst yet. He hugged himself and curled into a ball, fighting back tears. Gus was upstairs already, and they had sound-proofed the basement for musical reasons.

He just sat, rocking himself and trying to calm down. He tried to be positive. He was fine, Belos was dead, and nobody was going to get hurt because of him.

'Again ' a voice whispered. It wasn't wrong, either. He had tried to hurt Luz multiple times, kidnapped and almost forcefully covened the whole Flier Derby team, and helped cause the Day of Unity.

'You're a monster. They're all going to hate you once they know. Know that you're just a bag of dead bones and magic, know what you've done, what you've helped create. FREAK!'

Finally, the dam broke. He cried, sobbing into his pillow. He let it all out, tears pouring out of him, along with all the thoughts that caused them. Hunter believed every word of it, just crying and feeling horrible.

When he calmed down enough to stop the tears, he went into the bathroom. Perring into the mirror,, He saw how puffy his eyes were, the bags under his eyes deeper than usual. Hunter tried his best to clean up, drying his eyes and washing his face. It helped a bit, but didn't do much.

He fussed with his hair, trying to look presentable. He was still getting used to his new look, struggling to comb out the knots. Hunter made his bed, cleaned up, and changed his clothes. When he was ready to actually head upstairs, he looked normal, save for the deeper bags. He would have to manage.

In the kitchen, he was greeted by friendly "good morning"s and "hey sleepy head"s. Mrs. Noceda had made pancakes and sausage. She slid him a plate of some; he nodded, thanking her. He poked at his food, only nibbling a small piece of the fluffy disk. Willow and Gus noticed, shooting eachother the friend-is-sad-mission face.

Once breakfast was over, Hunter lumbered into the living room, plopping down on the couch. He laid down, getting comfy. He was going to nap, but a pair of shadows loomed over him. Opening his eyes, Hunter saw the smiling, yet concerned faces of Willow and Gus.

"Hey, Hunter. Watcha doing?" He sighed, closing his eyes again. "Taking a nap. I'm tired." Gus creased his brows, confused. "But you were in your room 'til 12!" They took a good look at his face, noticing the extra deep eye bags. It was clear he hadn't been sleeping. Hunter just turned away from them. "Still tired. Afternoon."

They were not taking that for an answer. "Come on, buddy! Cheer up!" Gus poked him in his belly, trying to get a response out of him. What he didn't expect was the squeak he got in return. Hunter whipped around, eyes wide and defensive. Gus was smirking, same with Willow. The distance between them now seemed nonexistent.

"Wait, guys, don't!" His plea fell on deaf ears, the pair already trying to pin him down. Hunter kicked and squirmed, but he was outnumbered in energy and hands. In seconds, his arms were above his head, Gus on his waist. A pair of hands started clawing at his belly.

"Gahahaha! Noho!" His sleepy giggles were soft and sweet. Both his friends just had to hear more. "You know, I think Hunter's a bit stressed. What do you think Willow?" She hummed, mock thinking. "Yeah, you're right! Maybe tickling him will help! He seems a lot happier when he's not brooding!"

"Ihihi'm rihight here!" He couldn't belive them! They were talking like he wasn't in the room! "Oh yeah! Hey Hunter, is this helping? We wanna know how you feel." The tickling slowed down, but didn't stop.

Now his face was bright red. To be honest, he did enjoy it. It took his mind off of things, and it made him feel happier. Not that he would ever say any of that out loud. "Maybehe."

That was all they needed. Willow fluttered her hands at his neck, while Gus went to work on his ribs. "GUHUHUHUYS! AHAHAHA!" Hunter was nice and awake now. His laughter was squeaky and loud, filling the room.

While he was there, squirming and thrashing on the couch, he only thought one thing:

I love this house

[lovetaroandtaemin]

All I Wanted

Chapter 4: Friends Are There

Osaki Shotaro x Reader

Word count: 1,940

Content warnings: ANGST!!! Shotaro has mild daddy issues, difficult parental relationships, feelings of inadequacy, they spend the night together again but nothing suggestive happens. If you think I missed anything, please let me know!

Thank you as usual to my beta reader, @wonbons! There are no words for how much I appreciate your help and feedback.

Author's note: I got a TINY bit carried away with this one so it is significantly longer than the previous chapters. Sorry about posting a few days late. There will be a post next week!

Fic is under the cut.

As soon as Shotaro knocked on your door, you pulled him inside and hugged him like you hadn’t seen him in months. When you finally pulled away, you noticed that he looked like he had rushed to get to your apartment. His purple beanie was firmly on his head in an attempt to hide his disheveled hair. His clothes were a mess, and you saw ink stains all over his fingers. Before you could ask if he was ok or say “thank you” for coming over, he asked you what happened, clearly worried for you.

“My parents called. I told them about yesterday’s test, and they started arguing. My mom was upset with me because she thought I wasn’t pushing myself enough, but my dad was a little bit more easygoing about it. I feel terrible for causing a fight between them. I don’t know what to do now.

“I know the feeling, but it’s ok. It’s not your fault that they started fighting. Sometimes it just happens. As for what to do now, I think we should focus on helping you feel better. Would you rather keep talking about it or do something else?”

“Something else, please.”

“You got it. Do you wanna watch a movie, play video games, or just talk about silly stuff?”

“Movie?”

“What movie?”

“Can we watch Howl’s Moving Castle?”

“Of course.”

He took a seat on your couch and started the movie. Once he was settled, you snuggled close to him and leaned your head on his shoulder. He put his arm around you, and the movie began. It was strange, but you didn’t really need to fill the air with conversation when you spent time with Shotaro. His presence made you feel like everything was gonna be ok, so you were perfectly happy just resting with him.

When the movie was about a third of the way done, you asked him if it was ok to talk about what had happened with your parents. He said yes without hesitation. It was important to him that you understood that he was always there for you, so he never said no when you needed to vent. He gently took your hands in his and asked what was wrong. That was when the floodgates opened.

“I’m just so tired of my parents fighting all the time,” you said through your tears, “It’s happened nearly every time they’ve called me since I started school. I hate causing so many problems.”

“Listen to me, (Y/N),” he said, his tone firm but loving. “I’m sure that they’re just stressed about other things and it’s boiling over.”

“They used to argue sometimes when I was younger, but never this much. I think that their only child being in college is stressing them out.”

“That could be, but it still isn’t your fault that they argue. Ok?”

“Ok. Thanks for listening, ‘Taro. You’re a great friend.”

“It’s really not a problem. I’m always gonna be here for you. I promise. Is there anything else that you need to get off of your chest?”

“I don’t really know. I’d really like to just not think about it anymore tonight.”

“That’s ok. What do you wanna do now?”

“Can we go to bed? I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, I’ll go home.”

“Please don’t,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“Please stay here tonight.”

“Ok, yeah, I will. Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

“Yeah, in the bathroom.”

“Ok. I’ll stay then.”

“Thank you. For coming over and for staying. Having you here helped a lot.”

Shotaro smiled and blushed, silently pulling you into a hug. You hated to admit it, but his arms were starting to feel like home. While it was true that the two of you hadn’t known each other long, it was also true that your feelings for him had been developing quickly since you met. Little did you know, he felt the exact same way.

When it was time for bed, Shotaro quickly ran home to grab a change of clothes. Even though he was only gone for a few minutes, you were sad to see him go. You felt much better once he got back. He quickly changed his clothes, then both of you brushed your teeth and went to sleep. Knowing that your friend was by your side made going to sleep a lot easier, even though you had a stressful day.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Shotaro had much more difficulty sleeping. He had been texting his dad about school all day. The end result of that conversation was anger for his father and anxiety for him. His dad had always pushed him to be the best that he could be, but that meant applying a massive amount of unnecessary pressure. That pressure caused much more harm than good as it led to painful perfectionism and a strained father-son relationship.

When he told his dad about his test scores, the response was mixed. His dad was disappointed about the 86 but thrilled with the 98. He made sure to explain to his son the importance of not letting anything distract him, including relationships. That particular statement got on Shotaro’s nerves, because he remembered being a kid and his parents telling him the story of how they met in a college statistics course. He guessed that his father’s hypocrisy in that area was a result of leftover bitterness from his divorce a few years prior.

At some point friends came up, and that was when Shotaro made the mistake of telling his dad about you. He passively mentioned that you had helped him study for the most recent test, and his dad was livid. His dad went on and on about how female friends were a distraction, and if it grew into something more than a friendship, he would regret it in 20 years when you took all of his money in a divorce once your kids were out of the house. In that moment, Shotaro was glad that he didn’t mention his crush on you or the fact that the two of you met in statistics class.

After the things that his dad said about you, Shotaro decided to end the conversation. He told his dad that he needed to go to bed and didn’t respond to any other messages that night. It really was his intention to go to sleep, but the conversation kept playing in his head. All Shotaro wanted in life was to succeed, but he wasn’t entirely sure that his dad’s advice was what was going to help him succeed.

The next morning, once you were ready for class, you entered your kitchen and found him sitting at your table studying. You smiled as you saw how focused he was on his flash cards and notes. Shotaro was adorable when he was in his own world, though you hated to admit it. As cute as he was, however, you knew that he would be late if he didn’t leave soon. So, you gently tapped his shoulder and said his name.

“Hey, (Y/N). What are you doing up? I thought it was still early.”

“’Taro, it’s almost 9, we need to leave soon.”

“Oh shit!” He quickly started to pack up his notes before he asked, “Do you wanna walk to class together?”

“That sounds great. I just need to go get my bag.”

While you did that, Shotaro thought about the way he felt about you. His dad would probably be livid if he knew, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding the courage to tell you the truth.

His thoughts were interrupted by your return with your bag. “Are you ready to go?” you asked, completely unaware of Shotaro’s feelings.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The walk to class was quiet, but you didn’t mind. You were too busy thinking about the previous day to try to come up with something interesting to say. The conversation with your parents had been stressful but spending time with Shotaro had made that stress melt away in a way that you had never experienced before. It just made you like him more. You considered telling him, but your fear of him not liking you in the same way stopped you.

Class went by quickly. The day’s lesson was simple, and it was incredibly boring. So boring, in fact, that you had to fight to keep yourself from zoning out or falling asleep. However, all of your attention was immediately on Ms. Kim when she started to give instructions for how to sign in to the class portal to check your grades.

Once you were dismissed, Shotaro asked you if you wanted to hang out at his apartment. He gave some excuse about showing you a new drawing he’s working on, but truthfully, he wanted you there for emotional support when you checked his grades. You accepted his invitation, and the two of you made your way to his apartment.

When you got there, he immediately asked if it was ok with you if he checked his grades in the class portal. You said yes, deciding to check yours on your phone while he did. When you looked, you were satisfied. There was definitely room for improvement, but you were still passing, and you still had excellent scores on most of your assignments.

You asked Shotaro what his overall grade was in statistics, and he told you. Then he asked what yours was, and you were hesitant to tell him. Not because it was bad, but because it was higher than his and you didn’t want him to feel bad. Immediately he noticed your hesitation, and asked what was wrong. You silently showed him your phone, and he smiled and congratulated you. You were relieved when you saw his smile, since you thought that it meant that he wasn’t upset.

He was, however, incredibly upset. He would never let you know it, but he was embarrassed that his grades were lower than yours. Your intelligence showed every day in class, and the fact that he was starting to feel like he was less intelligent made him feel like he didn’t deserve to be your friend. Of course, if he had told you this you would have insisted on his intelligence, which was always obvious to you, and reassured him that something like a different grade could never affect how you saw him. He didn’t tell you, though. He just continued to act like everything was fine, like his insecurities about being an idiot and his worries about his dad’s words the previous day weren’t eating him alive.

The two of you watched movies and played card games until it was time for you to leave, the drawing that he had promised to show you being long forgotten. You said goodbye and went home, unknowingly leaving Shotaro alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts of proving himself to his dad.

Thoughts of making his dad proud.

Thoughts of proving that he was smart enough to catch your attention.

Thoughts of getting better grades.

As his emotions consumed him, he made an oath to himself. An oath that he was going to bring his grade up to where yours was, if not higher. He was determined to prove to his dad that he could be successful. He also wanted to prove to you, and to himself, that he wasn’t stupid. Little did he know, despite one of the reasons for swearing to do better being his desire to prove himself to you, that it would be the thing that drove the two of you apart.

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think. I'm pretty sure this is my favorite chapter I've written so far. Sorry again about posting this a little late. There will be another post next week with either the Sungchan one shot or part 2 of my Bang Chan fic! If you would like to be tagged in the next part of this story, the Sungchan one shot, or part 2 of the Bang Chan fic, either leave a comment or dm me with the username that you want tagged. Once again, thank you so much to @wonbons for beta reading!

[paramorearchived]

June 21, 2011

Transcript:

real life

i took twitter off my phone the other day and it felt like killing a giant angry spider that was in my garage blocking me from getting into my car... which was amazing cause the real life spider that was actually in my garage was really extremely frightening.. and not killing it in real life was like a total failure. run on sentence, i know. my point is, it felt good to take it off my phone. liberation! besides not everything i do is even all that interesting. 

so with all the extra time, i've really just been hanging out with my family, watching the casey anthony trial, trying to find vegetarian and/or vegan food in franklin, sitting on my butt... OH! and we made a music video ( <<- i think that's tweet worthy )

we flew to LA on sunday and shot the whole thing yesterday. from the buttcrack of dawn until we nearly died. didn't mind it! we had a blast. of course, we left with battle scars. i can't do anything without getting my stupid knees bruised. at the end of every tour i have like 50 bruises on my legs! i don't understand. anyways, it was so so awesome working with shane again...  a very different experience from any of the other videos we've done with him. i won't go into all the reasons why in case it would give anything away. i'm just really excited to see it all finished.

my head is killlling me. i guess i need sleep? or maybe a popsicle. 

rehearsals start this weekend... that much closer to getting out there and seeing you guys. ughhhh can't make time move fast enough! ok, goodnight!

-h

[bonesandthebees]

YOOOOO that's so cool :00

My first dnd character was a cleric, but that one was premade for me, so the first one i properly played was actually a wood elf ranger lmaooo twinning

And then my 3rd character for a campaign I made was a human college of swords bard

My fav character I made tho (as a guest character) is a water genasi wild magic sorc :))) wild magic is SO MUCH FUN also i just love water vibes sooo rahhhs

I love all my characters tho

(Tho only the cleric campaign ever finished 😭😭 the other two got demolished from covid big rip, one day I'll get back into dnd... one day)

BUT YOOO THATS COOL!! I think i remember u mentioning smth abou the discord rp in an old ask. Feel free to ramble about ur character here !!! I'd love to learn more, that's so cool :000

going through older asks time anyway hi again icy

omg twinning with the elf rangers!!

oooo human college of swords bard sounds like a fun time. I think I technically started making another dnd character at one point for a different campaign that never turned out, but I think she was going to be a tiefling monk? oh well lost ideas...

ooooo a water genasi with wild magic sounds SO fun. I don't know the details of wild magic mechanics that well but from the little I do know it sounds like that would be a lot of fun

ok well. the discord rp thing I was a part of was technically a fandom thing but the people running it very quickly took the plot in their own direction and by the end it was pretty unrecognizable what media it was originally inspired by. but um that's just a disclaimer in case anyone recognizes the format. pls don't snitch. anyway I'm gonna ramble about it under the cut so it will be long I am sorry

anyway! the gist of the game was that all our characters were thrown into a discord server and told we had to participate in trials run by a godlike beings (entities) who liked tormenting people for entertainment and all that jazz. we would have to submit videos of us completing tasks given to us in order to stay alive, and later on could also participate in puzzle games in giant vc calls if we wanted to basically just get extra kudos with the entities.

the rp was mostly done through in character texting, but again we could also film videos for tasks, and could participate in ic vcs. the rp itself was improv, but there was a team of admins who played the entities running the game, while also having characters of their own that participated in the trials as well. these characters had their own larger plot going on, but along with that the admins would work with individual player characters and give each of us our own plotline that connected to the larger story. so actually very similar to how the qsmp works right now, and somewhat similar to how dsmp worked

also fun fact, we had a 3 lives system! and this was july 2020, so, like, we did it before dsmp lol.

every participant was assigned a number, and was only allowed to be referred to by that number in the in game discord server. so while most of our characters technically shared our actual ooc names, I think of my character by her number.

my girl's number was 28. technically this rp game was a sequel to a similar one we'd done way back in 2018, so 28 was a continuation of my character from that. 28 was known as a peacemaker in the group who tried to keep everyone else grounded, but wouldn't take shit from others. she was definitely one of the nicest people in the group, but would call out bullshit if she saw it. when us participants started trying to find ways to plot against the entities running the games, 28 ended up becoming more of a leader-figure in the group along with a few others and tried to keep things between the other participants stable as these death games just got more and more stressful.

these games spanned over the course of nearly 9 months in real time so it's impossible for me to talk about everything that happened, but some highlights include 28 falling in love with another participant (22) and the two of them continuing to date even when 22 started working directly for one of the entities running the tournament while 28 herself was one of the leaders of the rebellion against the entities. communication goes a long way LMAO

later on in the rp a rival entity organization basically hijacked the games and forced all the og entities running it to either hide or become participants themselves. with this rival organization one of the new entities (known as the quarterman) picked out 28 and basically forced her into working for him as a hitman. the change happened over the course of like a month with 28 hearing dimes whisper to her all the time, until her soul got ripped out of her body and put into a dime that she had to keep on her at all times. after this though she could teleport, which was pretty cool!

I loved 28 as a character bc she tried so hard to be kind and keep everyone together but it was such a stressful situation and people got so harsh and bitchy with each other (all in character of course. we'd all have a huge argument and then hop into the ooc server to meme about it). the conflict she had between wanting to help the rebellion while her own gf worked with the 'enemy' was sooo much fun to rp. and of course my lovely friend lisa who played 22 was an amazing rp partner to have. lisa if you're reading this I miss our girls :(

it was just such a fun experience overall. I once had to order some really weird stuff off amazon once to build a fake radiation detector for a task video and my mom straight up thought I was building a bomb 😭 We did in character vcs both for plot but also sometimes we'd just drink and chat ic. the admins I worked with were so lovely and I'm so glad I had that experience bc it taught me so much about how rp games like that work and what style of improv rp I like. fun times :,)

[the-archangel]

Subtle Truth

*Cyber Hanami day 4 - Gently Break It

*Not as much Kerry as I usually like, but Johnny (nearly) makes up for it.

The red hurts V’s eyes despite the sensitivity on his optics being dialled right down, alarms are flashing in the periphery of his vision, malfunctions, burn-outs, shit – his pain editors are down. He falls to his knees as the light becomes a stabbing pain in his head, crawling to follow the voice that brought him here, clenching his teeth against the onslaught. Every movement is an effort, like fighting against a turning tide, he drops further, belly to the ground and hands desperately scrabbling for purchase to pull himself forward, to reach the end.

He wakes in utter darkness, he opens and closes his eyes a couple of times to check, but soon realises it makes no difference at all, so he leaves them closed. He’s got no way of marking the passage of time, he feels like it’s been a while, but whether that means an hour or a week well, fuck only knows. If this is the end, he guesses he’s kinda ok with it, boring but peaceful is probably the very best he could’ve hoped for.

Some indeterminable time later, a distant sound catches his attention, for lack of any other stimulus he focusses on it absolutely. It starts as a hum, a vibration in the air more than a sound, over time it takes the shape of (maybe) a voice, but still too distant to make out any words. V drifts off, his mind conjuring pictures to try to make sense of the vacuum he finds himself trapped in, Kerry’s soft touch to his cheek, Jackie’s laugh, Misty’s concerned and caring face, Johnny murmuring his name.

His eyes fly open, he frowns, the red is back though he finds it less bothersome than before, but he’s sure he didn’t imagine it so he remains motionless and breathless. There it is again, slowly he stands, unsure if he’s even able and taking a moment to remember how to walk he moves in the direction of the sound.

“V, finally! What took ya?”

He doesn’t have anything approaching a sensible answer, stumbling to reach where the other man stands he catches himself from falling with a hand on his shoulder, and is surprised to find that it actually works.

“Yep, I’m just as real as you are here choom,” Johnny smiles, “but that’s not sayin much.”

“Wh…where are we?  Is this…Mikoshi?”

“Home sweet home kid. You just missed Alt, she explained some shit that I didn’t really get, but I guess you’re an engram now like me.”

V nodded dumbly, he’d come to the conclusion a long time ago that the only way he’d be saved would be to put him on a damn chip, didn’t mean he had to like it though. “So, what now?”

“Dunno, guess the hard part’s done. Alt’ll pop you back in your body and you’re good to go.”

The men stand looking at each other for a long moment, V is the first to break, waking past the other man to stare at the odd structures in the distance.

“Johnny?”

“Mhm?”

“I…I’ve got kinda used to having you around, is there no way we can…y’know…both make it back?”

Johnny raises a surprised eyebrow, he and V had been getting along lately it was true, but if the boot was on the other foot, he’d’ve been sprinting over that bridge without looking back – at least the old Johnny would.

“Nah, this was only ever meant to be a short-term thing,” he flinches inwardly at using a cheesy line like that that he’d used on so many others in the past, “ one and done. I died V,  should never have been able to come back, and if some crappy merc hadn’t made some shitty life choices I never would’ve.” He grins at V’s scowling face before carrying on, “You did me a favour, gave me an extra six months of life, a chance to build some bridges, now I can do the same for you.”

V's eyebrows knit together, “What fucking bridges? Apart from having a fucking parasite in my head it was all good…”

“Yeah, more the other part…”

“What?” V can see that Johnny is being serious, his legs lose the battle and he sinks gracelessly down onto the floor, “Six months…?”

Crouching down to be eye to eye with the merc, Johnny puts what he considers to be a soothing hand on V’s shoulder, “Sorry V, Alt seemed pretty sure. Something about irreversible changes, the body being configured to me now, some kinda techno shit.”

“So….you could live in the body….i…if I gave it to you I mean?”

Abruptly, Johnny stands and begins to stalk away, “Johnny, wait!” V calls stopping the rocker in his tracks to glare over his shoulder at the merc.

“Don’t wanna hear your shit V. Always said I’d go when the time came and I always carry through on a promise.”

“But Johnny….”

“Not interested, you’ve got people who need you V, people who care, I’ve got fuck all to go back to ‘cept memories and bad feelings.”

V watches helplessly as Johnny’s back disappears into the distance, his thoughts are reeling, six fucking months, shit, what’s the point for six months of pain, of misery? With eyes screwed tight shut his chin sinks to his chest and he grasps his arms around his knees letting a violent shiver rip through his body – or this version of it anyway.

A phrase rises unbidden into his mind, ‘Where there’s life there’s hope,’ one of the hokey things Jackie used to say, V never thought it made sense, til now. Vik wouldn’t let him down, if he couldn’t fix it, he’d find a way to make it bearable; the Aldecaldos had all sorts of medical tech, they’d come up with something; and then there’s Kerry, how could he have even considered leaving him alone, the gonk would be a mess without him.

Unfurling himself, V meets Johnny at the crossroads, “OK, I guess I’m ready, what do I do?”

Johnny points over the way with his cigarette “Keep going, don’t look back.”

“What’s gonna happen to you?”

“I’m going with Alt to the other side of the blackwall, fight the corpo scum from the inside, won’t know what’s hit em.”

V puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Give em hell from me too,” he growls before making his way over the bridge. Half way across he turns remembering a hundred things he wanted to say, but the other man is gone so he carries on, without looking back.