#probably been done before but i havent seen it

[residentsweatgoblin]

I'm only coming from the perspective of Ireland and Spain (Just Cataluña really) but "golliwogs" (the racist dolls mentioned above) havent been a thing since the 80s (still recent enough to merit discussion but not something ive ever seen in my living lifetime) and while the dutch are definitely very weirdly defensive about their "Minstrel Shows" (the festive blackface) I cant say I'm familiar with any other european yuletide traditions that are still practiced today that are particularly racist/offensive (I am open and encouraging folks to challenge me on this with citation btw). Anway, let me share with you some actually good european winter solsticetime traditions. In Ireland we sit around and drink from dawn til dusk around a warm fire with friends and family because its too fucking cold out and most everyone has work off, and we watch prince of egypt / ben hur / high school musical. Theres not really a name for it, thats just what christmas day/stevens day is about. As for a more localised tradition, remember that bit where I said its too fucking cold out? Yea well aparently all the leaded fuel really did a number on us Dubliners because come christmas day, without fail you'll see folks congregate at docksides, launches and beaches all around Dublin for a 'Christmas Swim'. Now, diving into briny water in late december at the same lattitude as Hudson Bay (thats in Canada), should probably be a death sentence, but Irish waters are fed into by a series of warm atlantic currents, so while still being pretty cold, its actually not terrible to swim in. And yea, people just go do it, on christmas day, because there wasnt shit else to do on christmas day back in the day. I dont know if this tradition extends to other coastal areas of the country but it probably does, maybe not up north cus its fuckass cold up there.

Now in Cataluña, *smacks lips* oh theyve got the best shit ever.

First of all, the nativity scene, the iconic centrepiece of christmas, such a pristine diorama, youve got the iconic trio joseph, mary and joseph, the donkey that worked so hard to get them here, some gentle well kempt shepherds, angels, cherubs, a divine star, theres even three kings that happened to be passing through town...but arent you forgetting someone? Arent you forgetting the most important figure in the nativity? Arent you forgetting...

EL CAGANER

Or to roughly translate: the shiterrrrrrrrrrrr

This guys a little figurine included in the nativity scene, typically placed outside the stable (the guy has a sense of decency he just had to go is all) its a predominantly Catalan tradition, but its common down the mediteranean coast and even Portugal and Naples.

Traditionally its just a little peasant guy wearing a red catalan beretina but theres shops around Barcelona where you can get celebrity Caganers.

this shit is better than funkopops in literally every conceivable way

But you know whats also a classic scatalogical festive season tradition in Cataluña?

Tió de Nadal

Look at this jolly little guy! Originally he didnt have the face or the legs and wasnt so small, once upon a time he was just a big log that you dragged into the house and assigned some personhood to for the hollywood season. Starting from the feast of the immaculate conception, every night before bedtime you give the tio a little bite to eat, and is covered in a red blanket to stay warm, then on chirstmas day or christmas eve, the kids beat the tio with sticks while singing songs, usually with lyrics ordering tio to defecate. After all the song and dance is done, you lift the blanket up and low and behold, tio has shit you out a beautiful pile of presents! Typically comprised of nuts, torons, candies, dried fruits and small toys, what a swell guy! Anyway, to get back to the topic of the post, im not trying to detract from the broad points, but for real it was kinda making it sound like every European country is the Netherlands and we're all out here cheering on blackface on christmas day. Again, if anyone knows of any other sickeningly offensive european holiday season festivities let me know, Im open to education and not just making shit up about other peoples of the world.

my only advice is to BE CAREFUL posting about holiday traditions around europeans. you'll post something casual like "anyone else watch the old Grinch movie every year? what a classic" and a european will appear as if summoned and say some shit like "funny how USAmericans always CONVENIENTLY forget that Not Everyone On Earth is from The USA…….. no of COURSE we dont watch 'the grunch' or whatever the fuck that is…. our tradition is to attend a community showing of Glummdorf the Racial Stereotype"

[ottos-art-stash]

Hear me out:

Trailblazer with Nanook's scars

[ofmoonsandlight]

"does anyone know what the deal is with the magnus institute" - the greatest thread in the history of forums, locked by a moderator after 12,239 pages of heated debate,

[udonnedtonoo]

I like to think that Sutekh gets his hopes up every time he sees a near-death Doctor and that they'll *finally* be his, but gets fooled by the regeneration Every Time

[gemharvest]

Hate thissss I feel like I haven't been properly productive today (somehow posting two art things Doesn't register properly in my mind) so I wanna stay up to get as much as I can down, but I also need to go to sleep in case I'm called in tomorrow because fuuuuuck going to work on little sleep that shit sucks. But also, the possibility of being called in makes me wanna stay up even more, so I can finish art in case I don't have time tomorrow. So now I'm sat up at 12:30 tired as shit but unable to draw or go to bed. The never-ending cycle of hell.

[dont-justdont]

i cannot make edits for the sake of everything good but, BUT just imagine... crowley calling aziraphale angel (as he does) AND THEN UNKNOWN "you called me angel for the first fime, my heart leapt from me" AAAAHHHHH i cant and like a series of shots of them through time and looking in love and everything as the song goes on okay im gonna pass out bye

[cass-cc]

.

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats

[snekdood]

the problem with conservatives is they think you challenging their beliefs is somehow oppressing them

[chososlilprincess]

pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? you’d realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. He’d probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.

You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. He’d heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,

You.

it’s the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and it’s getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He can’t focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.

But Choso wasn’t weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, “maybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,”

And now he’s here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. You’d went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.

When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees it’s Yuji who’s calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.

“hello?”

“hi Choso, it’s me,” its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yuji’s new friends from your Jujutsu College. “my phone went out so i borrowed Yuji’s to call you,” you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, “she forgot her bag on purpose!!” Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,

“not true…” you say awkwardly and laugh “but uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? it’s gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,” he can feel that tugging in his heart, he’s excited to see you again, even if it’s only because of your forgetfulness. “it uh…it is no trouble,” he says quickly,

“thank you Choso…ill see you tomorrow,” and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.

He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.

He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-

oh. fuck.

Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and also…

a pair of your used panties.

he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. don’t.

he picks them up.

He’s only just learned about sex, about relationships and about…pleasuring himself. And he’s already a massive pervert.

what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.

He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,

he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.

And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.

how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel so…weak? why does he feel weak?

He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.

he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!

[charrfie]

THANK U FOR TAGGING ME I LOVE U!!! 🫶

C- classic j dies and goes to hell part 1 | glass beach

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People I tag feel free to do it or feel free not to!!!! Hiiii guys o/

@nervigg @thatcatbasil @scaltrops @toothcereal @insulationsun @garlicrrow @birdwithabat

tagged by @3dfangs >:))) one song for each letter in my username YIPPEE

S- Safe Trips | OTE, Steven Ellis

P- Pathetic | Blame Candy

O- One Time, Pt. 3 | Satellite High

O- Out of Vogue | Fever Dolls

K- Keep This Place Beautiful | Brick + Mortar

Y- You Always Want to Bomb the Middle East on the Weekend | Cheekface

P- Personal | Stars

A- Adulthood | Jukebox the Ghost

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TAGGING UHHH... if you want to ! totally voluntary <3

@crispyclouddragon @corey-beepington @arcademoss @raypen @spatterats @the-pipisroomroom @charrfie @roarasaurus

[yierrem]

lighter x ftm!reader

notes: its my first time writing something substantial/with a bit of plot (ㆀ˘･з･˘) i hope it isn’t too disappointing…

warnings: non-sexual nudity, mentions of scars, some creative liberties taken for descriptions of blazewood (i havent reached ch4 yet… im getting there..), copious amounts of pining (from lighter) and obliviousness (from reader) can be read as gn!reader due to no heavily gendered terms :D

when lighter asked you to accompany him on one of his supply runs to the city, you thought ‘why not’ and agreed. you needed a few things for the workshop yourself and you’d never turn down an opportunity to spend some time with any of your fellow members. it was like hitting two birds with one stone.

the ride to new eridu was rather refreshing despite the overcast skies (lighter was on the verge of self-combustion feeling your arms wrapped around his waist from behind). after arriving in lumina square, everything goes smoothly: it takes both of you less than an hour to procure the things you needed (mostly daily necessities, requests from the girls, and materials you needed for repairs), but its on the drive back where everything starts to go wrong...

a few drops of water falling onto the visor of your helmet (courtesy of lighter) was no big deal until they started to fall in a continuous drizzle. both of you realized you probably should’ve checked the forecast before leaving when the rain picked up, battering heavily on both your shoulders.

it would be suffice to say that the pair arrived at the doorstep of the sons’ shared quarters in the lower levels looking like sopping wet cats. when lucy opened the door to you, it was with an earful of nagging while piper sat on the sofa to the side with an amused, sleepy grin. ‘at least the supplies aren’t damaged..?’ ‘you’re shivering, techie.’

when both of you have ensured that most of your purchases were intact and not waterlogged, you headed to your shared room to freshen up; wet socks are never pleasant, after all.

lighter takes off his sunglasses first, swiftly wiping off any spare moisture before placing it on his bedside table. he peels off his gloves and jacket next, wincing at the droplets that rolled off the garments to the floor, and draped them over a chair as he pulled his scarf off.

he looks over to you to ask of your condition when he sees your hands moving to lift the hem of your sodden shirt and he freezes. a flash of your stomach and the question dies on the tip of his tongue. he quickly glances away, probably giving himself whiplash.

this didn’t escape your notice, either, as you pause to snort in amusement, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil you were causing him.

“a peek won’t kill you, lorenz,” you tease, finally pulling the drenched shirt off your body. “i’ve seen you shirtless countless times before.”

lighter mutters something in reply, his back still resolutely turned to you to give some semblance of privacy while you changed. if his hair was just a bit shorter, the red flush of his ears would’ve been visible.

“…just dry yourself off,” he settles on saying.

even when he wasn’t looking at you, it was as if every single one of lighter’s senses were heightened as long you were in proximity. every rustle of your clothes and every breath he took seemed ten times louder and his heart seemed like it was beating audibly enough for you to hear.

“i’ll head to the showers first, then, if you aren’t done yet.”

he turns to look with the intent to reply something in acknowledgement for the sake of appearing unaffected, but then he just stops. and stares (he swears he didn’t mean to) at the sight of your shirtless body.

while you weren’t nearly as scarred or built as the champion himself, you possessed an assortment of blemishes accumulated over the years you’ve lived as a mechanic for the sons of calydon. there are burns on your arms that have healed into tender skin, and you’re sure there’s a sizeable scar somewhere on your left leg from falling off a bike once (which was most likely when big daddy realized you were better off fixing rather than riding them. you still laugh at that, sometimes). light bruises and scratches are littered across your upper body from always bumping into machinery and they accompanied the two horizontal lines of damaged tissue on either sides of your chest.

would you let him place his lips over them the way he dreams how you’d kiss all of his? maybe exchange stories about them, too, as you lay in each other’s embrace in the night’s silence. he wants to memorize the expanse of your body, if you’d allow him. to gently run his fingers over your shoulders, waist, and back, and cup your face in his palm as you both lean closer and—-

“lighter?”

his thoughts come to a screeching halt. when he meets your gaze, he clears his throat, shifting his eyes to some vague corner in the room.

“um. you were saying something?”

“…i said i was gonna head to the showers first.”

showering with you might be nice. your fingers gently massaging shampoo into his scalp after a long day…

“right. yeah. you can go do that.” he feels like his face could rival the red of his scarf. he hopes you can’t see it in the dim lighting as he turns away once more, busying himself with wringing out the water from said scarf into a spare bucket.

you stand there in bemusement, staring at his back for a few (excruciating) seconds before shrugging and muttering a quiet ‘mn.’ then you finally, finally, step out into the corridor down to the communal showers, the door closing behind you with a click.

once he was sure you were gone, lighter stops nervously fidgeting with the red cloth. he buries his face in his palms with a groan, trying to will away the violent drumming of his heart against his chest.

he’s seen so many people with their upper body laid bare before, both in and out of the ring he used to fight for his life in, so he was practically immune to any sort of shame when it came to certain forms of nudity. hell, he even partook in it sometimes on particularly hot days, choosing to go shirtless over wearing his usual getup.

but the fact that he’s reduced to some blushing schoolboy at the sight of your skin baffles him. he was aware he started to harbor some affection towards you at some point, but he wasn’t prepared for the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that came with it and you.

…he needed to do something about these feelings soon. not now, but maybe later, lighter. he thought.

‘some champion i am..’

[cheolhub]

YOU GET ME SO HIGH — VERNON CHWE ࿐

summary. smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

wc. 6.2k

warnings. recreational marijuana use!!, dubcon (kinda? sex while high), bf2l + idiots to lovers, kinda fluffy!! weed is referred to as ‘green crack’ several times lol, fingering, hehe big d!ck!vernon, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), brief tit worship, naked confessions, vernon is kinda shy, jealous, nervous & rlly likes boobs and reader is v needy lol <3— MINORS DNI 18+

note. havent seen anyone write for vernon in like 3 years so here’s my lowkey cringey, poorly-written, self-indulgent fic that i was supposed to post for his birthday 2 months ago ++ guest appearance from weed dealer!cheol bc yeah :3

if you had told vernon that his best friend was someone he’d met in a biology lab–one that he was accidentally put into his freshmen year– he’d say you were a liar. nonetheless, it’s true– you’re his best friend and you have been for years now. in your fourth and final year of university, you still sit on the balcony of your apartment with him like you have every other day for the past three.

“happy birthday, vernon,” you smile cheekily, passing him a snack-size ziplock baggie. “i got you an eighth since you’re always begging to smoke my shit.” 

he laughs and gives you a lazy smile, “Y/N, my birthday was over two months ago… plus, you know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “hansol vernon chwe, you are my best friend, of course i had to. and… i was waiting for a few of my checks to hit, that's why it’s a belated birthday gift.” you take his hand, placing the bag into it. “now take it and don’t smoke it all in a day, got it?”

he nods, eyes softening, “thank you,” he says. “must’ve cost your broke ass a fortune, though, so next time– don’t get me anything.”

you giggle at the joke that’s actually, not really a joke. “i really don’t think you have any room to speak– who here has a real job?” 

he rolls his eyes, “my job is real, thank you very much.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “reselling limited edition vinyls for seven times what you bought them for isn’t a job, vernon, that’s called being a dick.” you tell him. “and actually, the prices weren’t too bad. cheol gave me a discount.”

vernon almost visibly clenches at the name of your awfully-sweet dealer. though he can attest, cheol is only ever sweet to you. every time he’s bought from your favorite supplier, he’s been a total asshole and upcharges him for no reason which is one of the basis’ why he’s always smoking your stuff. you always tell him it’s karma for selling records at such a high price, but vernon begs to differ. he knows that cheol just doesn’t like him and he has a gut feeling that it’s because of you. 

“oh yeah? how’d you get him to do that?” he asks, but he’s pretty sure he knows the answer. the answer being cheol has a thing for you.

you bite your lip, looking over your apartment balcony. “mmm, he showed up here while i was… you know…playing around…and…”

vernon knows you well enough to finish your sentence for you. “masturbating?”

“vernon, be modest!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. “you knew, you didn’t have to say it!” 

he chuckles, “it’s normal, Y/N, we all do it. no need to be embarrassed over it.”

it’s true. everyone does it. but not everyone masturbates thinking about their best friend. he thinks that might just be him. 

“yeah, but you’ve probably never done it thinking you’d be finished before your hot drug dealer shows up at your apartment.” you blush. vernon doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re afraid you’ve made him feel uncomfortable (even though he claims you never have). you bite the insides of your cheeks before uttering, “can you pack a joint or something?”

truthfully, vernon doesn’t mean to be so quiet. he’s just trying to imagine you in that state without letting his dick get hard, though it’s proving to be extremely difficult. you probably looked so pretty in cute short shorts and a shirt that you could see your nipples through. or worse, you were wearing a tank top that was snuggly wrapped around your torso where you could see everything. he wants to be a gentleman, wants to be respectful… but, god, your tits are out of this world.

he hums trying to rid the dirty images in his head, taking your box of goods to grab the grinder and paper cones. “finish your story.” he urges.

you look at him, searching for signs of discomfort, but there is only that stoic look he always wore. with a sigh, you continue, “anyway, i was… you know… and he texted me and said he was here– i was a mess–”

he can imagine.

“–and i think he could tell ‘cuz when i got down to his car i was so disheveled and was about to start crying. i literally looked like i got edged or something,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs out of embarrassment.

you’re painting a picture for vernon and he has to bite back a groan. 

it’s not the first time you and vernon had talked about sexual things. there had been several conversations on the topic. he knew almost everything about you except for… you know… what you tasted like and how tight you are– his vivid imagination couldn’t give him all of those pleasures. 

“and, vernon, i kid you not, he literally knew. he was all smug and shit,” you groan. “it was kinda humiliating.”

you remember how much wetter you’d gotten the moment you slipped into his car. he was calling you all types of things– all types of pretty pet names–and you’re genuinely surprised it didn’t escalate further because the sexual tension was heavy.

“and then i told him i wanted a quarter– an eighth for me and an eighth for you– and he told me he’d give me a special strain of sativa for half the normal price.”

vernon’s eyes widened, “half the price?”

“that’s what i said!” you exclaim. “pretty sure it’s because he could see my tits… i wasn’t wearing the best outfit …”

of-fucking-course he could see your tits. vernon holds back a groan, seeing as his suspicions about you in a tank top that night was right. instead, he chuckles airly. “now who needs to be modest.”

“stooop, just grind the weed.” you cry. 

vernon does as you ask, muttering, “maybe he laced it.”

“cheol wouldn’t, i’m pretty sure he just likes me.” you humbly reply, shooting daggers at your best friend for even suggesting that. “plus the strain was called ‘green crack’ or something like that… it was from the ‘st. patty’s day special.’”

“saint patrick’s day was like 4 weeks ago.”

“well then he was either trying to get rid of it or my tits must’ve made him feel generous.” you joke, giggling a bit at vernon’s poker face.

vernon is hiding it really well, but he’s filled with so much annoyance. your stupid dealer doesn’t deserve to see you like that. hell, vernon doesn’t even think he deserves to see you like that, but, fuck, he wants to. so badly. seeing you all hot and bothered with your tits on full display would be a dream come true. 

“would you fuck him for free weed?” he asks all of a sudden, making you blush furiously. he knows now that he doesn’t want to hear your answer when your mouth parts in shock. 

“vernon! what kinda girl do you take me for?” you put your hand over your chest as if it’s something you wouldn’t do. you break your facade when he gives you a knowing look, mouth cracking into a grin. “probably, i dunno. he’s kinda scary but i feel like he knows how to please a woman– i can’t say the same about a lot of other men.”

he internally rolls his eyes. cheol doesn’t know you the way he does. vernon could please you, he knows he can. 

he switches the subject back to the packed joint in his hands to keep from spiraling. “wanna spark it?”

you shake your head with a hum, “mmh-mmh, belated birthday boy gets the first few hits.”

he smiles, pulling the joint to his lips taking the lighter, igniting it with the pressure of his thumb. he lets the flame burn carefully through the paper, inhaling a large rush of smoke. he holds it in for a bit before he blows it out– away from your face– creating a white, potent-smelling cloud.

you reminisce while watching him. your balcony is like home to you and vernon. contrary to your neighbor's beliefs, smoking isn’t the only thing you do. you laugh and cry and talk for hours about people you hate and people you love. sometimes, you’ll do homework out here and when vernon is bored at his own place, he’ll come over to yours to keep you company. he provides a comforting presence and never-ending encouragement while reminding you to take breaks.

 it’s where you told him about your puppy crush on soonyoung from your statistics class and it’s where he told you about how he awkwardly lost his virginity to a girl during orientation week. it’s where the two of you are always together– it’s kinda like your place.

and watching him after all these years, you’ve never really realized how attractive your best friend was. well, that’s a lie. you’ve always thought vernon was likely one of the prettiest men to ever walk the earth, but if you truly admitted that, then you’d have to admit to the other things. things like how kind and considerate he is and how he’s boyfriend potential and how you totally don’t have any type of feelings for him whatsoever. it’s not a crush, you constantly have to remind yourself, it’s admiration for your best friend. there’s a difference.

but those admirable traits are things you can’t think about because he doesn’t see you that way. there’s no reason why you should see him that way if it’s not reciprocated. it only makes sense and prevents brutal rejection from the most perfect man on earth, aka your best friend. 

but your not-crush manifests itself sometimes. like when he smiles at you or when he randomly places his headphones over your head and tells you to “listen to this song” or when he spends the night in your bed because he’s too lazy to drive home. it gets harder and harder to hide every day. 

he passes the joint to you with an even lazier grin and you take it, parroting his actions. you let the smoke fill your lungs, hold it there, and exhale, shutting your eyes just as he did. 

and vernon thinks you look like a goddess. how could you make a simple action seem so attractive?

you take your hits, passing the joint back and forth till it suddenly hits you. all at once, you feel your body start to ache, your tummy flipping in anticipation, your mind fogging over leaving your entirety to buzz. you shift a bit and you feel your cunt dampen causing you to let out a sharp exhale.

“you good?” vernon asks, his deep voice filling your ears.

then you look at him. like… actually look at him. his face is a bit tired, his eyes red from the weed coursing his system, and his hair a bit disheveled from running his hand through it too much (this is why he wears the beanies)-- nevertheless, he looks fucking fantastic. 

your usual munchies are replaced with strong, burning sexual desire. just at the sight of your best friend, your pussy is soaking through your panties and your shorts.

“‘sol,” you murmur out the nickname. “do you feel… different?” you ask, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

you’re truly unaware of how seductive you look and how it’s slowly taking years off his life. vernon has been rock hard in his sweats for a solid 15 minutes now. and, yes, he feels extremely different. turned on to say the very least. 

“mmm, a little,” more like a lot. “maybe it’s the strain you got,” he mumbles, implying what he had said earlier was true.

it makes sense that cheol provided you with a strain that feels like you’re smoking a fucking aphrodisiac, but you’re starting to wish you were alone so you could at least do something about it. 

for a split second, you think you might be fine, then you’re hit with yet another wave of arousal, your core pulsing at the ideas that are incessantly popping into your head. ideas of him taking you right now, sitting on his face, sinking onto his cock– it’s too much. 

“vernon,” you say breathily and he freezes, pulling the joint away from his lips. “i… i think…”

you try to think about how to kick him out kindly so you can have some much-needed alone time, but you can’t– you can only think about having alone time with him. alone time that leads to shoving his hand down your pants. 

stop, you tell your hazy brain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer to you. 

his scent floods your senses– a mix of weed and his cologne causing sensory overload in your poor brain and aching core. 

he’s internally worried that you’re greening out. though it doesn’t happen as much as it did when you first started smoking, there are rare occasions when you take more than you can handle. 

“c-can… you do me a favor?”

“‘course, anything.”

“vernon… it… i���need your help.” you whimper, leaning into him. “please…feels like ‘m gonna die.”

you’re being dramatic. 

he furrows his brows in confusion, panic becoming apparent on his features. “what hurts, Y/N? how can i help you?”

you take his hand in yours, slowly guiding him to the ache in your body. you gasp when his warm fingers come in contact with your clothed cunt. “here… it hurts here.” you exhale.

vernon has definitely lost it. his hand is between your thighs and your smaller one has moved to tightly wrap around his wrist. you’re a mess– he can feel it. he can feel the warmth radiating from your core, he can feel how you’ve soaked through your panties and how it’s seeped through the thin pair of shorts. he’s holding his breath and he fears he may pass out before getting a chance to touch you like you deserve. 

“y-you’re not in your right mind, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice may betray him. “you smoked too–”

“uh-uh, it’s okay– vernon, it’s okay, i want you… please,” you whimper, grip around his wrist tightening as you buck your hips slightly for more friction. 

you want him. you… want him. 

“but–”

you’re growing frustrated, “if you won’t… then i-i think you should go ‘cuz i need… i need to be alone.”

vernon takes this as an implication that you need to fuck yourself if he won’t fuck you and he’ll be damned if he’s not the one making you see stars. 

so, he asks one more time, “Y/N… are you sure?”

“yes… yes, ‘m sure. ‘m so sure, please, ‘sol,” you beg, using the nickname that makes him fold every time. 

he doesn’t hold back, putting out the joint in his hand and leaving it in the ashtray. his now-free hand cups your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. you moan, eagerly allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth as your hands needily fist at his shirt. 

despite having smoked, vernon’s lips are soft. softer than the lips of men you’ve kissed before. and he still tastes good even with the pungent lemony flavor lingering on his tongue– overwhelmingly good. it seems that he’s just as eager and turned on as you are, too, nearly devouring you whole. you can’t help but fall in love with the heated, now-sloppy kiss.

and vernon truly feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. he’s not sure if this is even real or if the weed has him hallucinating… it wouldn’t be the first time, but you biting down on his bottom lip has him coming back to earth and lets him know that you’re real. that you are very much real and very much grinding on his fingers desperately. 

“vernon,” you pant, pulling him closer by the shirt in your grip. “please, more— feels good, but i need more.” your hazy eyes look into his and you see how they’ve darkened.

“fuck, Y/N,” he groans and his voice has you clenching around nothing. “we need to go inside…”

you’re both sure that this might ruin your relationship, but you decide it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. right now, all either of you can think about is getting off on each other. 

that’s why you’re quick to stand on your feet, holding out your hand for him to take. when he stands, grunting, you pull him into your apartment and leave all of your goods on the balcony without a second thought. 

you drag him to your room before attacking him with another kiss and pulling at the ends of his shirt. you’re a bit disoriented, swaying and stumbling over your steps, but when your legs hit the bed and you nearly fall, vernon’s quick to catch you by the waist. 

“careful,” he murmurs, gently laying you on the plush mattress. you scoot to the head of the bed, laying on your back as you wait for him. 

he takes your expectant face as a sign to remove his clothing and he does so quickly, knowing how impatient you are at this very moment. his shirt comes off and then his sweats, leaving him in boxers where his bulge becomes… apparent.

you have to hold your breath at the dizzying sight of his naked torso and the massive tent in his underwear.

you make grabby hands at him, urging him to come take care of you on the bed. he obliges, getting on your bed, hovering over you while his own head spins. he’s truly unsure if this is actually his real life or if he’s having a dream sent from the gods above. 

he decides not to wait any longer, taking control of the situation by placing his lips on your heated neck. his lips trail down, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, reveling in how you desperately whimper for him though he’s barely doing anything. 

his hands reach for the hem of your loose top– one that might actually be his– pushing it up and tugging it over your head and arms, leaving your chest bare before him. he groans before diving to your tits, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and tugging at the bud hungrily. 

you gasp at the sight. you’ve never seen vernon so eager to do anything in the time you’ve known him and now he’s making out with your tits as if it were his last day on earth. 

that’s hot, you think to yourself. so hot– you’re so fucking hot right now.

you can’t see it, but you feel his hand come down to your sleep shorts, digging in past the elastic band of both the satin fabric and your cotton undies. his fingers dip into your lips, running them through your soaked folds. 

“you’re so wet.” he hisses. 

you whine at the contact, apologizing softly, “‘m sorry– can’t help it.” 

his fingers find your hole, circling it before easing two of them inside. “don’t apologize, baby. it’s really hot.” he whispers, the pet name slipping past his lips without completely registering. 

you clench and moan at the domestic name. “fuck, ‘sol,” you whimper. “a-again… call me that again…”

his face burns, whispering out, “you like when i call you ‘baby?’” 

knowing vernon, it was meant to sound like a genuine question, but being in the state you’re in, it sounds so seductive… so enticing that it has your back arching. you nod your head, an even darker blush falling over your already-red cheeks. 

you let out a clipped, “yes.” and he just moans, thrusting his fingers in and out faster, digits stretching your tight, gummy walls out to prepare you for his cock. 

he wonders how you could be so tight because, holy fuck, you’re squeezing around his fingers like you’re trying to trap them in there. 

you whine softly, “vernon, please give me more…”

he definitely just fucking died. 

his cock twitches uncontrollably in his boxers, begging to be set free, but he decides to give you another finger instead. vernon knows he’s… a bit on the bigger side, and judging by how you feel right now, there’s absolutely no way he’ll easily fit inside of you. the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

so he slowly pulls his hand out of your shorts and helps you out of them. he throws them to the side and has you spread open. he huffs at the sight before taking three of his fingers back to your hole. he pushes them in gently, groaning at the tighter fit. your moans are bouncing off the walls and vernon looks up to see your mouth hung open with your head thrown back against your pillow. 

he checks on you, throat dry at the sound, sight, and feeling of you. “i-is… are you doing okay?” and when you just whine, he bites the inside of his cheek anxiously. he remembers your fondness for the pet names from a few minutes prior, so he tries again. “baby… does it feel good?”

and he’s not sure what to expect, but when your body jolts and your hand's fist at the sheets, you get even tighter, clenching around his fingers desperately. you really do have an affinity for being called ‘baby.’ 

your brain is jumbled, intoxicated from the weed and his fat fingers stretching your cunt open. “‘m okay… f-feels so good.” you tell him breathily with a whine bubbling in the back of your throat at the feeling of his fingers pushing further into you. “fuck, vernon– it’s so good.”

and it’s true, you don’t think you’ve ever experienced pleasure this intense before, but you remember your senses are heightened by 10 because of the drug. that ‘green crack’ is insane.

he moans at the confirmation, curling his fingers up and fucking your messy cunt, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit with every thrust. he feels a rush of your honeyed arousal soaking his fingers and he swears he might cum before he can even get his cock in you. 

you gasp loudly when you feel his pace quicken, eyes squeezing shut. an array of mewls and high-pitched whines shamelessly slip past your lips. “oh! fuck, i’m close, i’m so close, vernon.” you warn, wet walls clamping around his curled fingers.

he exhales sharply, voice low when he urges you, “cum for me, baby.”

his voice and harsh thrusts are more than enough to throw you over the edge, stomach knots unraveling. you gush all over his big fingers, pussy pulsing as it’s doing its best to push his digits out, but he continues his ministrations to work you through your blinding orgasm.

feeling you cum may have been the best thing life has offered him. 

“fuck, that’s it– are you okay? did that feel good?” he asks breathily, pulling out his fingers, a string of arousal connected to your hole following them out. he bites his lip at the sight, keeping a moan bottled up. he wants to taste you so bad… and the cum on his fingers taunt him. 

you nod your head, still panting, “w-was so good, y-you’re really good… don’t usually cum that fast…”

“really?”

you shake your head, “t-told you that guys don’t really know what they’re doing most of the time.”

he shakes his head in disapproval, “well… you deserve the best.” 

“... like you?” your heart races and the weed from earlier still lingers like a cloud over your brain. you look at him, the soft light from the moon illuminating his flawless skin. your eyes trail down his torso, eyes landing on the big bulge in his boxers again. 

he chokes, masking the sound with a nervous chuckle, “me? i-i’m not…no.” your eyes widen, realizing you’ve completely misread him, feeling panic flood your body. you quickly shut your legs, arms coming to cover your bare chest. 

he’s quick to notice that you’re starting to spiral, though, so he re-registers what you said and then what he said and his eyes widen, too. his words come out rushed as he attempts to do damage control. “no! not no, as in i don’t see you in that way, but no because you deserve the best and…”

“but… you are the best, ‘sol…” you tell him softly, hugging yourself tighter. “and before you say anything, the weed is wearing off– think you finger-fucked it out of me,” you joke to lighten the mood, but when you see he’s still frozen, you internally cringe at yourself, continuing. “i’m being serious. i’m in my right mind and i’m telling you that you’re the best because you are. you always have been.”

he shudders nervously, “Y/N… don’t.”

you frown at him, turning your head away to look at your window instead, mentally face-palming yourself. “did i make it awkward again?” you ask nervously. you don’t even wait for his response, continuing your anxious ramble. “can you just forget i said anything? and that i made you do this? i…i don’t wanna lose you– i never want to lose you.” you whisper. “you’re my best friend.”

he shakes his head incessantly as if he’s trying to tell you something with the simple action, but you aren’t even looking at him, so he takes a deep, shaky breath. “no, you didn’t make me do anything. i just mean don’t say things like that if you don’t really like me because i…” he trails off and you turn back to look at him, concerned by his sudden halt. “Y/N, i… like you. so much. i have for forever now, but you were always talking about soonyoung or cheol and then there was that whole thing with that pretentious art kid– minghao, i think– i dunno.”

what!?

you look at him incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted in genuine shock, “why didn’t you tell me…?”

he sighed, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “it seemed like i never really had a chance… you’re my best friend, too… and i didn’t want to lose you either.”

you sit up, exclaiming, “but you’ve liked me this entire time and i didn’t even know?!”

he gives you a small grin and a shrug, “what can i say? i’m discreet.”

you scoff, sitting in silence for a few seconds before opening your mouth again. with your voice meek, you say.“i wish you would’ve told me.” you inhale sharply, continuing to hug yourself tightly. “i like you, too, you know… i just didn’t think you liked me back so i tried to not like you– which is really hard, by the way, because you’re annoyingly pretty.”

“sorry, i’ll try to stop being so pretty.”

you playfully slap his bare chest, “i actually hate you so much.”

he jokingly sulks, placing a hand over where you hit him. “aw, baby, you just said you liked me.”

you shudder, body naturally leaning into him as your mind gravitates back to your not-so-innocent thoughts. “i do… and i’d like you a little more if you kept calling me that.”

his breath hitches as you get closer and closer, “yeah?”

“mhm…”

he whispers against your lips, a cheeky smile on his, “you’re such a baby.”

“you’re so mean,” you hum, letting your lips graze his. “am i not your baby?”

he rests his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes for any sign of playfulness. you seem to be serious so he asks, “is that what you want?” he’s nervous you can hear the way his heart is about to pound out of his chest. 

“duh… idiot.”

“okay, cool.” he says nonchalantly even though he’s internally freaking out. “you’re my baby.”

your heart skips a beat and your cunt dampens again at the title, “okay, cool.” you parrot casually as if your heart wasn’t about to lurch out of your chest. “you can… kiss me. if you want…”

vernon utters a soft ‘right’ before finally closing the gap between the two of you. his lips mold to yours and you know for a fact that there is no one else on earth you’d want to kiss. his big hand comes to cup your cheek and you melt under the touch, mouth opening for him to slip his tongue into. 

naturally, the kiss heats up and before long, you’re whining into his mouth, hand blindly reaching for his clothed cock. he groans the second you find the aching hard-on, nimble hands stroking him through his boxers. 

“Y/N,” he pants breathily in between kisses. “are you… sure you wanna… do this?”

you think it’s sweet that he keeps checking on you, and sure, you’re still a bit fuzzy from the after-effects of the ‘green crack’, but you need him to give you what you want. so you nod, breaking from the kiss to lay back in your original position under him. 

“please fuck me, baby,” you beg in the most sultry voice you can conjure up. when he stays frozen, you pout. “hansol, please.”

he curses, quickly getting his boxers off and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. precum beads at the slit of his flushed tip and prominent veins run through the length. he’s so big, surely enough to have you see stars. you’re starting to feel grateful that he prepped you because his dick would have completely ruined you without it.

“‘s big.” you simply state, bottom lip finding sanctum in between your teeth as you gawk at it. 

“you think so?” he gives you a wobbly smile, stomach-churning at the subtle praise. he moves in between your thighs and spreads you out for him. “is it okay?”

you blush, nodding your head, “mhm, don’t worry,” you tell him. “i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.” 

he nods, huffing softly, “do you have any condoms?”

you chuckle breathily. “not for your size… but it’s okay, i’m clean and safe. you don’t need one. you can pull out if it makes you feel better.”

his throat runs dry– fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s fucking you raw?! how the hell is he supposed to last hitting it raw?! you were already tight around three of his fingers and he can’t even imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his cock.

he realizes he hasn’t replied in a few seconds when you say his name softly. he sees you growing restless under him and he apologizes and nods again dumbly. 

he runs his tip through your folds, moaning when he finds you’re just as wet as you were earlier. he aligns himself with your leaky hole, slowly pushing himself inside of you with a groan to find that you’re still so fucking tight.

you’ve found that, despite vernon’s laid-back and chill personality, he’s quite loud in bed. he’s nothing like you expected and you’re pleasantly surprised. 

when his cock slides in between your tight walls, the both of you are instantly a mess, panting and moaning in pleasure. your walls envelop him so snugly that you fear the thick veins that adorn his length will imprint into them.

“fuck, vernon.” you moan, praying the burn in your pussy melts to pleasure soon so he can fuck you the way you want it. the way you need it. . “your cock.”  

he hisses, pushing in past the resistance. “you feel so good, baby, oh my god.” he grunts, head falling back at the way you hug him. “god, i’ve wanted this for so long– wanted you for so long.”

you cry, clenching around his girth because, god, you’ve wanted him, too.

when he finally bottoms out, you both pause to take erratic breaths, positively going feral over each other. he attempts to recollect himself and check up on you again. “are you–”

you don’t even let him finish, nodding your head vigorously. “yes, vernon, just need you to move, please.” you plead. “need you to fuck me– please, need it so fucking bad.”

you’re so needy for him and he knows it’s because of the last bit of weed that looms, but he can’t help but wonder if you’re like this on a normal day. if you’re always begging for a cock to fill you up. not that it would matter– he’d do anything you asked of him. you’re so fucking pretty to him and his brain is constantly yelling at him to cater to every single one of your wishes. the chokehold you have him in is so tight. 

tight like your pretty cunt that’s now gracefully swallowing his cock with every thrust of his hips. your room is full of panting, moans, and the lewd squelch of your wet pussy taking him. it sounds better than any song he’s ever heard and, if he’s being completely transparent, he hopes to experience this for the rest of his life.

vernon unexpectedly comes down, craning his neck to latch his mouth around your nipples again, stimulating you there, too. you’re sure the position is a bit straining, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moans loudly into your chest. his hand plays with the other nipple, switching every minute to give both of them love and attention all while his cock steadily rams in and out of you. 

your hands tangle in his hair, smothering his face into your tits while he moans and whines some more into them. 

and when he adjusts slightly and his tip hits that spot, the one that makes you crumble in seconds, a sob wracks through your entire body.

“there! shit, baby, right there, please.” you gasp, back arching into him. 

vernon asks breathily, removing his face from the comfortable spot on your chest, “there? that’s it?” 

and you nod, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you feel the pressure build-up at the bottom of your tummy. he continues to hit the spongy spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer. 

his own face is pinched and he can’t stop the soft whines that come out of his mouth. you just feel fucking amazing. 

“a-are you close? i’m not gonna last long.” he pants out. 

and you weakly sob out a reply of ‘yes,’ hand moving to toy with your swollen clit. the action immediately has the tightrope inside of you coming undone for the second time in the night. you mewl out his name, clamping around him tightly and coating his cock in slick cum. 

it’s like a chain reaction that has vernon cursing and pulling his dick out of you. he eagerly fists at his cock, jerking himself off till he releases all over your puffy pussy. he’s moaning softly, prettily calling out your name. his heart pounds rapidly and his entire body twitches at the feeling of release. 

his eyes finally open after a few seconds of trying to regulate his breathing. he sees the way your cunt is dressed in white and how you're slowly, but surely, coming down from both of your highs. 

“hey,” he whispers. 

“hi,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open. your hands reach for him and he can’t help but find you so cute. “c’mere.”

he smiles, leaning down to kiss you again. unlike your past few kisses, it’s soft and innocent. loving. he parts after a minute or so, hand moving to sweep the hair out of your face. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” he whispers. “i feel kinda bad…”

“don’t, ‘sol, i wanted it. i’m really happy.” you tell him sincerely. “are you alright?”

he sighs, “i’m really happy, too… i just wish i would’ve taken you out on a date or something before… fucking you.” 

you shake your head, “we did it kinda backwards, but, seriously, i’m just happy you’re here… happy that you’re mine.” he blushes, moving to hide his face in your neck while you giggle. “if you wanna, we can go on a date now?”

“where?” he mumbles into your neck.

“7/11– channie’s working so that means free big gulps and rollers… you know, since some of us can’t afford to eat real food because of their ‘job.’”

vernon scoffs, pulling his face out of your neck and giving you a stern look. “dude, it’s a real job–”

you laugh, effectively cutting him off. “okay, scammer– if it’s a real job, why are you always stealing my fucking weed instead of buying your own?” 

“because weed is scarce these days and your bitch ass dealer hates me– why should i have to pay $20 for a gram when you only pay $5?” he nearly cries. “and, since we’re on the topic, i don’t like him. he’s too friendly with you.” that’s code for “he obviously wants to fuck you.”

“you’re jealous of cheol!”

he groans, rolling his eyes, a tiny pout appearing on his face, “so what if i am?”

you coo, “aw, baby,” hand coming to cup his blushy cheek. “you don’t have to worry about him,” you relay to him, voice laced with sincerity. “you’re the only one i want.”

he goes a little bug-eyed at your words before clearing his throat and nodding. “good. that’s good.” 

you raise an eyebrow, “just good?” 

“no… it’s great…” he mumbles cutely. “you’re also the only one i want.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[emero0]

Ight im analyzing Bake no hana or “flower of transformation” cus its in my brain

Spoilers for mizu5 (obv but heres your warning)

(Lyrics from project sekai wiki)

This is mostly line distribution but feel free to add more

So the first lines are about mizuki (obviously)

Probably about people looking at them weirdly and how they’re used to it — and how they’re cute but its “wrong” its “a sin”

Also this is a music thing but enas lyric “its off” is off beat with the song as well

Then more about mizuki crumbling and breaking sown with their secret because it was revealed before they could reveal it themselves

Next, i find it interesting how every time this lime is sung its by kanade, mafuyu, or both (+kaito)

Which could be in reference to the fact that neither of them were there when everything went down

They also seem to take on more narrator roles like in the beginning

Following this, Ena sings this line every time as well — likely in reference to her not being able to say anything to mizuki and being unable to take back the look on her face when mizuki found her—a face that could be seen aa disgust or “ugly” - “makeup” because its not how ena truly feels

(Which btw—i believe was mainly in part to “oh shit i just found out the secret ive been patiently waiting for before i was told and now i feel awful” and not “oh my god mizuki is trans” or whatever your interpretation of that is considering THEY STILL HAVENT CONFIRMED ANYTHING—which is slightly frustrating but alas we can wait)

Next, either mizuki not wanting to go back because they are tired of running—or even (and im leaning towards this one) they cant go bavk to being a kid, to being “how they were”,

“Blossoming” into this flower, they cant go back and not be trans, theyve bloomed into who they are, even if its “off” and “a sin”

(Im trying not to push trans stuff (NOT /neg) and just look at it as it is but its really hard to see it another way for me /lh —a trans person)

Next, another song thing—when mizuki tells everyone to disappear—they do

No one else sings except kaito, and then when they sing “stay with me” they come back

Then they repeat lines with kaito which could mean something-but it may also just be adding kaito to make it different the second time around because music theory

Nearing the end—this may very well be 1: mizuki not knowing the future and mafuyu-ing into sekai

But it could also be a nod to the player—not knowing the future-and until they do mizuki not showing up in the “real world”

And finally—the curse of being born the way they are, they’ve had enough of running (away from their problems, their mistakes) and have essentially done the game equivalent of —well— disappearing

Overall i really want a full version and i think what we have so far is very interesting—i dont have jpsekai so im probably missing some stuff-but i have seen mizu5 so thats where most of this came from

(Will be avoiding most social media tho cus the arguments over this are—interesting… tumblrs been good so far tho ^^’)

[phagodyke]

ok moment over its all good

oh who am I fucking kidding. I'm not gonna go am I.

[freakinator]

@myrmica sorry your vitalazam (ship) ask got deleted cause i tried to save it as draft and thats just not allowed ig my bad

so while i Have seen some stuff from s4 i havent seen all of it yet so i dont have the complete picture of how their relationship was but i do know enough to know that they did (and still do tbh) care for each other and tried their hardest to make compromises before The Great DivorceTM but well. we saw how it turned out. in another life they def couldve worked out but as you yourself said that would require them to be different ppl with different goals, mindsets, experiences, and circumstances so in the end it doesnt really matter anyway, whats done is done and all they can do is to try to reconcile and move past it -- and try to reconcile and move past it they did! with... variable results.

despite zams resilience when it comes to external troubles its rather typical of him to succumb to his internal ones which generally leads to one or both results: repression/avoidance or a desire for action to an unhealthy degree and in s5 he managed to do both! hey girl why are you vehemently trying to repress your past while relentlessly tormenting your ex under the guise of "cause you felt like it" which gets worse the more he tries to bring up your past together with you only to finally let it all go when he gives you a book addressed to your real life self?? gay as fuck if you ask me

when it comes to zam it really feels like vi is endlessly trying to reach towards someone who burns at even his slightest of touches and reacts accordingly. while most probably give up especially with how frustrated and agrieved he is he cant help but keep trying to reach out anyway cause despite everything he doesnt wanna cut off that connection. what really gets me tho is the fact that he entrusted jumper to abyss despite the fact that their relationship has been nothing but antagonistic til that point like girl why did you think that a team made up of some of the main proponents of your suffering both that season and the season before that which btw includes your ex who was the main source of said suffering both times who keeps trying to deny what you had and either avoids you or tries to kill you, were the most fitting and reliable candidates to be with your best friend and neglected teammate?? gay as fuck if you ask me

idk vitalazam is just one missed opportunities after another i think, always so close but never enough, always something to regret, always something to grieve and this season was no exception. icb vi logged on for a whole 24 hours unsure when he can log back on again and zam decided to prioritize building the mapicc castle instead of spend as much time as possible with him 😭 and now zams living in vis basement and keeps ruminating over the past and what vis been through and wants to revive him even if he never logs back on again like. bro.

overall i think theyre ill and they make me feel ill and they should be studied in a lab i think