#sat on this for a couple of weeks its either post it now or never

[vamp-bites]

I need somebody to remember my name after all I can do for them is done

(Remember My Name by Mitski)

[ckret2]

Chapter 63 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes. 

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks." 

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs��because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk. 

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

[roostersgirlfriendlovesf1]

i'll be home for christmas

bradley bradshaw x reader

prompt: bradley has been on a mission the past couple of weeks and as christmas approaches y/n becomes more lonely. she decorates their apartment as she awaits his return...

warnings: none, just cute ;)

an: hi guys!! this is my first post hope you love it! i will be taking requests for rooster or hangman and if you're intrested in f1 lando norris and charles leclerc! i def need ideas so please comment!

A cold breeze makes its way into the apartment as y/n attempts to hang the last string of lights on the tree. The sound of waves crashing on the shore almost drowned out the sound of Nat King Cole’s A Classic Christmas playlist. Y/n peaked out of the window, the sun was quickly setting. Bradley was set to arrive home any day now. Christmas was a holiday that they had not yet spent together over the past two years; Bradley was either on a mission or stuck having a late night on base.  She stepped down from the chair she was balancing on and poured herself a glass of wine. She had been slowly decorating more and more each night, hoping that she would be staying up late enough to greet Bradley when he came home. She never knew what his mood would be when he got home, but always tried to keep a smile. She had put on green, plaid pajama pants and a tighter black long sleeve. She heard the sound of giggles outside the balcony door. Y/n peeked out, seeing a family of three spending their Christmas Eve together. She grabbed a plate of cookies off of the counter, not wanting them to all go to waste as she could not eat them all. She slipped on a pair of uggs and walked downstairs. She waved politely. The family lived a couple apartments down. “Cookies?” 

The mom bent down. “Go get a cookie.” She tickled her daughter before the little girl shyly approached y/n. She grabbed a sugar cookie with red, green, and white sprinkles.

“Good choice!” y/n smiled before looking back up at the two adults. 

“Brad coming home soon?” The man asked.

“He said he would be home between December 20th and December 26th…” She sighed, “So hopefully in the next couple of days.”

“If you want to come over tomorrow we wouldn’t mind.” The woman smiled.

“It's alright.” y/n shook her head. “I just wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas!” She bid them goodnight and let herself back into the lonely apartment. She shut the balcony door before taking a step back to appreciate the Christmas scene she had set for herself. A moment of appreciation quickly turned into a moment of loneliness. The room was dark except for the accent of faded-white Christmas lights and candles. She wanted her boyfriend with her. His perfect golden skin, infectious laugh, and comforting smell. She sat down at the piano he had and their first memories together flooded her mind. She had moved in with him a week after she convinced him to buy the piano. He knew he was in love as soon as she pointed out the piano. It had faded wood and the paint on the black keys had just about dissipated.

“This one is perfect.” She ran her fingers along the keys.

His heart dropped as he studied the piano. “This looks like the one my dad would play when we went out for food at this one diner…”

“Then you need it!” She smiled at him. “It's gotta be a sign.” All he could do was stare at it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, kissing his cheek. “I’m gonna go see how much I can negotiate the price.”

He watched her as she debated with the store owner. She waved Bradley over with an angsty look. “He agreed to lower it by 20%, think that's fine?” She crossed her arms.

“Yes.” He was determined to have the piano. “I’m going to be broke after this.”

“Christmas is coming up.” She declared. “So I’m obligated to put some money in for this.”

“No-”

“Yes.” She nodded. As she put their money together Bradley noticed her eyes latch onto a silver necklace with a red heart. He watched as she read the price, sighed, and then continued to count the money owed for the piano.

She was now slumped over it, attempting to find a tune. She set her wine glass on a side table and glared at the keys. They hadn’t been touched in weeks. The sound of laughter and singing hadn’t echoed off the walls in what felt like decades. She wished the piano could comfort her the way Bradley did. Tears filled her eyes, but had not yet fallen as she realized the Christmas songs playing on her speaker had stopped. She put on a new playlist before shuffling into she and Bradley’s bedroom searching for a sweater. She opened the closet door, grabbing a gray sweatshirt. She and Bradley’s separate sides of the closet had now just blended into one wardrobe. She pulled it over her head, prepared for another long night of finding a show to binge. Y/n grabbed a blanket and went to clean the Christmas plate she ate dinner on. Being alone made her envy the times she had to clean double the dishes. The sound of the sink running overpowered the sound of the front door unlatching. She set the plate down in the sink, sighing before blowing out a candle. Thump. A duffel bag landed on the floor and her attention was diverted. The tired eyes of a familiar pilot greeted her as she rushed herself into his arms. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly, one hand running through the hair on the back of his head. His arms caged around her waist as he kissed the side of her face, mustache tickling her. “Merry Christmas, baby.” He whispered in a tired, raspy voice. 

“Merry Christmas,” she breathed, pulling away to look at him with glassy eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” He let out a breathy laugh, obviously exhausted. “I couldn’t get you anything really nice, but I picked something up on the way home…” He placed his forehead against hers. 

She kissed him. “You didn’t need to get me anything.” He nodded, but retreated to his duffel bag, grabbing a green box from inside it. 

He placed it in her hands before bringing them down to hold her waist. “Nothing was really open this late, but-”

“Shhhhh….” She hushed him. She opened the box to find a sticker and a silver necklace.

“The sticker has the exact plane I fly on it, so that you can stick it on your phone case and look at it when you miss me. It was dumb, but it was at the 24/7 gas station.” She stayed silent, taking the necklace out. “Now that…” He cupped his hand around hers, taking the necklace into his own hand. “I’ve had for a while.” He hooked it around her neck. It was a simple necklace, but had a tiny red heart that fell right between her collarbone.

“Bradley…” Her voice caught. “Thank you.” She kissed him again. 

“God I’ve missed you.” He embraced her again.

[obsessedelusional]

read your mind

paring ↬ Bella Ramsey x Fem!Reader

summary ↬ you’re a famous singer. you meet Bella at a event. the two of you end up spending an intoxicating two weeks together. one day you wake up and Bella is no where to be found. this turns into a vicious cycle of Bella hitting you up whenever it’s convenient for them. when you finally have enough Bella does something extreme to prove their case to you. requested here & inspired by read your mind - sabrina carpenter

word count ↬ 2.4kish

authors note ↬ I love writing but It’s hard to find the motivation. Anyways slowly working through my Bella request. someone requested this so long ago and I started it and never finished it. thank you ily (also I physically can’t imagine Bella as anything but the sweetest ever so this was hard omf)

masterlist

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Bumping in to Bella Ramsey at an a event and becoming “a thing” was something you didn’t have planned for yourself. Yet here you are, have spent nearly everyday together in one way or another since the day you met. The two of you had been following each other on social media for a while so when you to were invited to the same award show you approached Bella. An innocent hello turned into an intoxicating two weeks.

Bella was in town for press, who knows how long they’d be in town? Two famous celebrities running a muck all over Los Angeles. Of course it becomes public knowledge, paparazzi photos of you guys walking out your home get taken. Neither of you aware until the next morning when they’re plastered all over the internet.

You wake up reaching over to find the bed empty. Unusual but you’re not worried yet reaching for your phone. You have several miss calls and texts. All asking about Bella. Your best friend the first to notify you of the photos and then asking if you seen Bella’s Instagram story. Closing your messages app to open it, notifications ten times more than normal.

Bella just posted on their story, twenty minutes ago. You click it open, you are presented with a selfie of you two Bella took a few days ago. Your sat basically on top of Bella with the biggest smile, they’re smiling too. Your feel your heart drop to your stomach when you read what they captioned it. “my best friend”

“Bella?” You call out loud, excepting them to respond. Only there is no response. You try to phone them, no answer either so you typed out a text and press send.

You: best friend? really?

Only a few moments pass before they respond. So they were purposely ignoring your phone call, noted.

Bella: its better than every one knowing

You: knowing what? that this morning you woke up in MY bed and now we’re just friends

Bella: it doesn’t matter anyways I’m leaving back home

Now your infuriated, you call again no answer.

You: so wtf was the last two weeks then?

Bella: we’re just friends

You: you are not my friend and you never were

Bella: I just need to be alone

—

You don’t warrant that with a response. It’s a rough couple of weeks but you eventually move on, accepting that it’s over. The internet finally moving on from the thought of you and Bella being more than friends. For a while you couldn’t open your phone with out more than half of your notifications being related to Bella. Whatever that was is done. For good.

Or so you thought because as soon as you feel like you’ve stopped thinking about it Bella is hitting you up. Your sitting at your birthday dinner when your phone vibrates. Surrounded by everyone you love so your unsure who it could possibly be.

Bella: happy birthday I miss you xx

Your best friend notices your change in mood.

“You okay?” She asks. You don’t even respond just pass the phone her way, watching as she reads it.

“I thought you blocked them.” She says, quiet enough the others around don’t hear. You can’t form a response because you know whatever comes out will not be what she wants to hear. Knowing damn well you’re about to do something stupid. You take your phone back, shooting her an unsure look at her before tucking it away in your purse. Deciding you’d deal with it later, when you are alone.

—

Later that night when you’re alone you respond with a simple thank you. What was suppose to be a good night was filled with stress thanks to the text waiting for a response from Bella. As soon as your message says delivered Bella is calling you. You let it ring for a few moments before answering.

“Hello?” Bella says over the phone.

“Hi.”

“I missed you.” They say and you physically can’t come up with a response. Sitting in silence forcing Bella to speak.

“I’m sorrry, I never should of ended things the way I did. I need you.”

“As a friend?” You question, referring to the comment that lead to the downfall of the blossoming relationship.

“No I miss you in my life. I thought I needed to be alone but I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” You later find out that Bella is in town wanting to see you. It crosses your mind that it seems they only want you when it’s convenient for them. Against your brain telling you this is a horrible idea you agree to hang out.

It’s akward for a short moment but when Bella is the first to initiate conversation you two fall into the same feelings as before. This time Bella’s time in town is longer. They’ll be around for two months filming. Between your two busy schedules you make time for each other. Bella fills your worried mind with empty promises of being something more than just friends. You let the delusions of a possible relationship influence your decisions. Night and day your at Bella’s beck and call.

Only for the painful cycle to begin again. A month into Bella being in town they decide to exit your life with no warning. Your attempts to contact them go unanswered. Until a week later, Bella shows up to your home with some lame ass excuse about needing to be alone. They continue with this nonsense only to keep calling you at late hours of the night. The two of you only communicate and see each other on Bella’s time.

—

Eventually Bella goes home and just as you had expected to happened, Bellas doesn’t make an effort to make things work long distance. A few weeks pass since the two of you last speak. You pretend you don’t care any more, growing used to this treatment. Swearing one day you’ll find the courage to break it off officially. Only this time you see on social media that Bella is back in town, probably for an award show coming up in a few days. In the past by now, Bella has already slid their way back into your bed. You don’t dare text them first.

Your going to start tour in a week and you know that once that starts there’s no way you’ll get a chance to see Bella. Your tour is a few months long and will have you all over the United States. Eventually the award show passes and it’s safe to assume Bella is home or headed home. Their inactivity on social media not giving you much to work off of. You’re checking for the millionth time when you finally get a sign of Bella being alive, a short test message.

Bella: miss you gonna be in la soon

You read the text over and over again, only fueling you with anger. Bella was in town and not once did they think to reach out and suddenly they’re back on the other side of the planet and they want to hit you up. Before you can think about it you send a text.

You: I’m going on tour won’t be here

No response.

You’ve been on tour for a few days now, driving to your second show. Started in Seattle and now your in the tour bus headed for Portland. The first night went smoothly, exactly as you had hoped. Now sat on the tour bus doom scrolling through TikTok, waiting for tiredness to find you. Rolling onto your side and closing the app, opening Instagram. Greeted by a new post from Bella. It’s a black and white photo mirror selfie. Bella’s smiles as they take the picture. A girl stood behind them arms wrapped around Bella’s waist perfectly hiding her face in Bella’s shoulder. The caption a date in the near future.

A mixture of sadness and anger take over, quickly becoming only anger. Bella messages you a week ago about how they miss you. You don’t reciprocate the same energy and suddenly they’re publicly telling the world about this girl. You start feeling sick looking at the photo, blocking Bella on instagram. It’s not enough, so you block their number too. Taking this level of disrespect as a sign to stop whatever the two of you were completely.

When you arrive to Portland, your sad demeanor is noted by the people around you. Even when you go to perform your usual happy self is no where to be seen. At one point you cry on stage, as you sing on of your sadder songs. It gets video taped and plastered all over social media. You singing as tears fall down your face. Fans speculate what it could be about but nobody knows what caused truly your sadness.

After that hiccup it was rough for a good few days. Being surrounded by your team, always being busy, and not wanting a repeat of that night things get better. You alow the hustle of tour sweep you up so you can pretend to forget. The tour goes by quickly, last show left has you back in California. One of your biggest shows yet in your hometown, Los Angeles. You’re filled with excitement as it’s completely sold out.

Only for it to all come crashing down when you’re about to go on stage in a few minutes. One of your team members is cheery about the fact that your friend Bella is in the crowd, not knowing about your past with them. You had done such a wonderful job at avoiding Bella. Limiting your exposure to social media because you figured what you didn’t know, couldn’t hurt you. Allowing a team member post for you, you couldn’t entirely disappear like you wanted.

“Please don’t let them back stage.” Is all you say, your team member nods face filled with confusion. Not questioning your request and leaving you alone. Your sat in front of a mirror, looking at your self. So excited just a few moments ago, now you look miserable. Bella somehow succeeding in ruining another important day in your life.

—

You’re thankful for the large venue because wherever Bella is you can’t see them. Your eyes stay towards the front and rarely venture past the first few rows, doing everything in your power to not see Bella. When the concert finally comes to an end, your exhausted more than normal. Sweating bullets as you head back stage. Your team surrounds you momentarily, congratulating you and sharing a brief moment of excitement over your coming to an end.

You feel bad because you can’t be as excited as they are, eventually getting away from everyone and finally finding solitude in your dressing room. As you walk in your greeted by Bella stood there, looking as uncomfortable as possible.

“What are you doing in here?” You snap, turning your back to Bella fully prepared to leave and get security.

“I know I’m crossing so many lines right now. I have no choice you blocked me. I just needed to talk to you.” Bella speaks, your stomach dropping at the sound of their voice.

“Yeah because you were wasting my time. You only wanted me when it was convenient for you. Then your proudly posting som girl on social media. Not even a week before that you were trying to see me.” You snap, finally letting all your anger out on the source.

“That was a promo photo for the show coming out this month. It was a ploy to get people interested enough to watch my story, if you watched it. There was several stories about it.” Bella explains, a slight grin on their face.

“Doesn’t change anything. Why are you here?” You retort, feeling stupid but not wanting to show it. Bella’s grin disappears before they respond.

“I want to make this work, I miss you.” Bella admits.

“What even is this? One day you say you want to be alone, the next you just want to be mine. I can’t read your mind.” You say, sighing exhaustion heavy.

“I’m serious this time. I promise.” Bella says, looking at you. Trying to gauge your feelings on this.

“I can’t believe a single word that comes out from your mouth.”

“What can I do to prove it?” Bella asks, you don’t have an answer. Bella pulls out their phone suddenly typing away.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” Bella grins, causing you to move closer.

“Check your phone.” Bella adds. You change your course and head for where you left your phone at the vanity. As soon as you unlock it you have a dozen texts from friends and family upset that you didn’t let them know about your relationship with Bella.

“What the fuck did you do?” You ask.

“You’re gonna have to unblock me on Instagram to see.” Bella smiles, laughing softly.

“No thank you.” You snap, switching to your private account. Typing Bella’s name into the search bar and seeing a recent Instagram story. When you open it a picture Bella took of you months ago, when you two first met. Your hand reaching for the camera, in the middle of telling Bella to stop. The smile in your eyes making it known that you don’t want them to stop.

the caption: my girlfriend

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, facing Bella.

“I thought that’s what you wanted..”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you right now. The whole world thinks we’re together now and we’re not.” You say, mostly thinking aloud. You look over to Bella who’s just sat there laughing at the situation.

“Don’t fucking laugh. This is a big deal.” You snap, stopping Bella.

“It’s not too late to post lol just kidding you all have been pranked.” Bella respond causing you to crack a smile.

“No.” You say.

“Oh so you wanna be my girlfriend now?” Bella teases.

“If I say yes you’re gonna have to make up for being such a dick head.” You respond.

“Anything.” Bella responds, desperately.

“I want to go on a real date. Out in public.” You demand.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Bella eagerly smiles.

“Not today. You’re coming home with me tonight.” You smoke, ready to pick up where the relationship ended. Hoping that you aren’t making a huge mistake.

[hjparisian]

bad idea right?- harry j potter x reader

p: ex! harry j potter x fem!reader w: modern au (phones exist at hogwarts dont question how), everyone is friends, small mentions of drinking and smoking, slight sexual implications (no smut) summary: (y/n) and harry have been broken up for a while now. while at a party (y/n) gets a message from harry asking her to come over. its a bad idea, right? a/n: based on the song by olivia rodrigo, which has been living in my head rent free and brought my first idea in weeks. currently trying to get through a few requests and ylm part II and seeing what'll happen from there. also im on pinterest and tik tok so come find me (has nothing posted on either lol)

There was nothing like a good old party after the Quidditch games. This game was between Hufflepuff and Slytherin, the latter being victorious, which meant the Slytherins would be hosting the party. All the houses were invited.

(Y/N) sat on the couch with Hermione, Pansy, Daphne, and Cho, a drink in her hand. She had tuned out what the girls were chatting about, observing the surroundings of the party. From the people dancing, couples making out, people taking shots and smoking, and Ron doing a keg stand with Blaise and Theo, Draco laughing at them from the side.

(Y/N)'s thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, which had also caught the attention of her friends. She picked it up to see who it was. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately to her, it was her ex-boyfriend. Harry.

5 missed calls

hey

feeling a bit bored rn

no ones at the dorm right now

come over?

"Who is it?" Cho asked.

"Oh erm, no one important," (Y/N) said.

"Well your phone was buzzing for a good minute until you finally picked up so it has to be someone important," Daphne chimed.

"Really it's no one," (Y/N) tried telling them.

At that moment, Pansy took (Y/N)'s phone out her hand and looked at it.

"Yeah no one important, unless it's your ex Harry fucking Potter wanting to see you tonight!" Pansy said. The girls gasped.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Harry's texting you? But you guys haven't spoken in a couple of months."

"Yeah, I know," (Y/N) said.

"How come Harry isn't here anyways? Doesn't he usually go to parties with Ron?" Daphne asked.

"Said he didn't feel like it," Hermione told her.

"Well, are you gonna do it?" asked Pansy.

"Do what?" (Y/N) asked.

"You know, see him?"

Cho chimed in. "Oh (Y/N), I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Yeah, that would be a bad idea, he is your ex after all," said Daphne.

"I never said whether I was going to or not!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "And if I were why would it matter? I know he's my ex but can't two people reconnect?"

"Well, they could," Hermione started saying. "But a lot of the times it doesn't work out."

"Besides," Pansy starts. "There's a bunch of other men out there waiting to have a chance with you. Men hotter than Potter."

(Y/N) didn't know whether to agree or disagree with Pansy. Well sure, there's other men out that there that could be more attractive than Harry, but there's just something about him that draws her to him.

"Okay, okay! I only see Harry as a friend anyways. Also we're at a Slytherin party right now and I'd much rather be getting drunk with you guys than continue this." (Y/N) told them.

Her words rang in her head as she took a shot that Pansy brought her. Does she really only see Harry as a friend? Or is that a lie?

The temptation to see Harry was only getting stronger with each drink she took. It wouldn't be a horrible idea to visit Harry right? They probably wouldn't do anything anyways so what's the harm?

While the girls weren't paying attention, she texted Harry back, telling him she would be over in a little bit. It didn't take long for Harry to get back to her.

cool, see you soon then

(Y/N) waited until the girls were done with another round of drinks, hoping to be unsuspecting with her need to leave.

"I think I'm going to head to bed, I'm feeling a little bit tired," she said.

"Already?" Pansy asked. "Come on we're having fun!"

"Pansy, leave the girl be. It is starting to get a little late anyways," Daphne said to her fellow Slytherin.

"Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?" Hermione asked her, being one of the more sober people of the group.

"No! No I'll be alright. I'll see you guys tomorrow though alright?" (Y/N) said as she wave goodbye to her friends.

Once she exited the Slytherin common room, she quietly made her way towards the Gryffindor common room. Curse Harry for being a Gryffindor and making her walk so far, but it'll be worth it, at least that's what she's thinking.

(Y/N) finally made it to the entrance of the common room without any setbacks. The Fat Lady had woken up from the sound of her footsteps.

"Password?"

"Quid Agis," (Y/N) said, having remembered the password from when she visited Hermione earlier in the week.

The portrait opened and (Y/N) walked in. The common room was empty, most likely due to the party as well as it being late in the night. She made her way to Harry's dorm, memorized where it was due to the countless times she's gone over.

The girl knocked on the door before going to grab the door knob, but the door had opened before she could. In front of her stood her ex-boyfriend in sweats and a black shirt, contrasting her party dress she wore tonight.

"Hey," Harry said to (Y/N) when she walked in, closing the door behind her.

"Hi," (Y/N) shyly said. It was a bit awkward being in Harry's dorm, considering the last time she was there was a few months ago, before their break up.

Harry guided (Y/N) to his bed, the two sitting at the edge. She could feel Harry's eyes taking her in. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't doing the same just before.

"So you came from the party I assume?" Harry asked.

(Y/N) nodded.

"How was it?"

"Good. You know how Slytherin parties are." The girl said. "Exciting. A lot of drinks."

"Do your friends know you're here?" Harry asks her.

"No." (Y/N) felt a hand touching her thigh.

"Where do they think you're at?" Harry asks her. "They think I'm in bed right now." She said. But she never specified whose bed.

A faint hum of acknowledgement came from Harry as he began rubbing her thigh, his hand slowly getting higher and higher.

"You know, I've missed you a lot (Y/N)."

(Y/N) could feel her heart racing at Harry's sudden confession. "Really? I've sorta missed you too." She didn't know if it was the alcohol talking that made her say that or what, but something made her want to see where this was going.

A small smirk appeared on Harry's face before he brought the girl to his lap. His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips.

"How about I show you how much I've missed you?"

This definitely was not going to be a bad idea, right?

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 18 - Best Laid Plans

Kid finds a way to force you and Killer together, in the hopes that it will fix things.

WC: ~3k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

A few weeks had passed and you had been hard at work, on Captain's orders, practising your new ability. Light had always been one of the harder things for you to control, being that it moved so much faster than anything you could touch or hear, it took a considerable amount more energy to alter. Until now you had only used it for small things, like changing the colour of someone's hair, or trying to make holograms of yourself, which were slowly getting more lifelike and opaque with each try but not good enough yet for real world applications. Making light pass through something was at least easier than altering it though, and it got a hell of a lot easier when you realised that you could alter physical objects instead to let the light pass straight through them, instead of forcing the wavelengths of light through the object. With some brute force and a hell of a lot of concentration, you were able to make the entire ship and its inhabitants entirely invisible for fifteen minutes. Any longer and you would pass out from the fatigue it took on your body. It wasn't much, but it was enough to sneak past outposts if Kid used his power in tandem to propel the ship by the metal that had been installed on the hull for that very purpose.

Your devil fruits combined, the ship had managed to entirely sneak past the guards of a marine-protected island to settle and hide in a secluded cave. It was the perfect setup for a sneak attack, they would never bother to check the cove because nobody would ever think a ship could get to it unseen in the first place. With a heavy exhale you released your fruit from where you stood on the dinosaur skull, Heat catching your fatigued body as rehearsed as you slumped to the deck. Kid, too, let out a groan as his stance wavered, grabbing the railing to keep himself upright and batting away Killer's arms that reached to help him. It was hard work for both of you to hold up your powers for that long, you were both exhausted and at your limits. No further progress would be made on the current mission today, you needed to rest, and the ship would be safe for a few days at least, hidden in the waterlogged cave that barely fit it. Lookouts were immediately posted at the mouth of the cave, and any local that happened to wander too close would immediately be taken care of before they could report back.

The next day, after you and the captain had both had a large dinner and a well deserved sleep, the commanders gathered in the navigation room to discuss the plans. The goal for this island was to acquire several eternal log pose, but how Kid intended to get them hadn't been discussed with you yet. Given your new ability though, you had a feeling that you would be an integral part of the plan.

Double laid a large map of the island and its residing marine base on the table, placing a couple of heavy tools and treasures at the corners to keep it flat. You sat with your elbow leaning on the table, your chin in your hand, a little bored and annoyed that you'd have to use your invisibility again after working so hard yesterday, like holding it for fifteen full minutes hadn't been hard enough as it was.

“Alright chucklefucks, here's the plan,” Kid announced, standing at one side of the table. The other commanders were scattered around it, either sitting or leaning against the walls. “Yin will use her power to mask herself and Killer, and the two of them will sneak in and retrieve the log poses on their own. A quick in and out stealth mission, then we're out of here. The rest of us will stay at the ship on standby, ready to raise anchor as soon as we see them coming back”

Your eyes flicked nervously to Killer, who was shifting uncomfortably from where he stood leaning against the wall in his usual cross armed pose. Apparently, he hadn't been made privy to the plan either. The two of you hadn't interacted at all outside of what your roles necessitated, everyone could feel the anxious tension between the two of you. “I can't take Heat instead?” You asked anxiously.

Heat cleared his throat and stood at your side, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Killer is the most suited to this job, he's quiet footed and agile, and his observation haki can protect you. Not to mention he's the smallest of us, you won't have you use as much energy to keep him hidden”

You grumbled at Heat. It made sense, you didn't like it but you knew he was right. The other's all murmured in agreement. Only Heat, Kid and Wire were privy to the real underlying plan to force you and Killer together, but the logic was sound so Mohawk and Double quickly agreed regardless. “Fine, where do we go?” you sighed.

“Killer will memorise the route so you can concentrate on keeping the two of you masked, no pun intended,” Wire explained, “I'll show him the route before you head out, you'll just have to follow him”

“Oh that'll be easy when he's invisible,” you bit back sarcastically, “not all of us have observation haki you know”

“Then you'll just have to hold hands or something,” Kid smirked, pleased with himself. You frowned and crossed your arms, your eyes flicking to Killer for a moment.

“Fine.” You submitted. Killer cleared his throat uncomfortably, you sounded less than impressed at the plan.

“Good, then you're excused,” Kid stated, “go get your weapons and shit, someone will come grab you when it's time”

“Aye aye captain,” you grumbled, giving him a mocking salute as you left.

You were just as unhappy about this arrangement now as you were when Kid had first commanded it, as you held Killer's hand and followed him silently through the marine base. Slipping through the main gate had been easy with your ability, but Killer was making sure to keep off the beaten path anyway - you may have been invisible, but you'd quickly be found out if you bumped into someone. His hand felt the same as it had on the island, warm and firm and comforting - you hated it. You hated the way it made you feel, and the way it made you remember him tossing you away the second the ship had appeared. It'd been weeks since you returned from the island but it still hurt to think about. No matter how much time passed and how much you did your best to avoid him, you couldn't seem to shake the butterflies you felt whenever you saw him.

Unbeknownst to you, Killer wasn't faring any better. His heart had been racing since the moment you'd begrudgingly taken his hand, and he was struggling to concentrate on his observation haki. Your fingers may not have been intertwined like they had been so often on the island, but it still felt intimate to hold your small, soft hand in his. He couldn't even see you, but he could feel your presence. You felt like a ghost to him, and he felt just as alone as he had for the last few weeks, with the same sharp ache in his heart.

It didn't take long to reach the spot Double had marked on the map where he guessed the log poses would be held based on experience. The door was locked but it was an easy fix for your devil fruit, vibrating the pins into place. You let yourself in first, Killer closing the door behind him and relocking it so you could search the room without having to stay invisible. The room had no windows for security reasons, and you'd quickly hear if someone tried their key.

The room seemed like a small map making room, with a few desks scattered around the edge and a larger, round central table for discussions. Sitting neatly in the centre of the table were three eternal poses and a normal New World three pointed pose. Killer wasted no time snatching them and stashing them in the bag he'd brought along. The two of you scoured the rest of the room, collecting several maps for other islands and marine bases and hastily stuffing them in the bag. With your mission accomplished, Killer held his hand back out for you to take again. You stared at it, hovering in the air, his mask tilted towards you expectantly.

“Look, I don't like this either,” he sighed, “but the sooner we get out of here the sooner it'll be over with”

“Until the next time Kid makes us do this,” you returned his sigh.

“What happened to ‘let's be friends’?” Killer asked, taking a step closer. You stepped back and he recoiled, letting his hand drop.

“It still hurts, Kil,” you avoided looking at him, “I feel lost”

“Maybe we should talk then, when we get back to the ship,” he suggested. “I feel lost too, I miss you. I miss talking to you, I miss when you didn't leave the room the second I entered”

“You threw me away, Kil,” you looked anywhere except at him. “I know we had an agreement, but it doesn't hurt any less”

“I know, and I'm sorry,” he sighed, “I thought it was for the best, I never meant for it to get this far, I never meant to hurt you. Can we please talk when we get back? You don't have to forgive me, but I miss you, Yin”

“Okay,” you gave in, not even sure what there was to talk about. What difference did it make? You were landlocked. He had told you time and time again that he wasn't capable of letting you in, and you weren't sure after all this that you could let him in either. But sure, let's talk. I'm sure beating the same dead horse will finally fix everything. You stepped back towards him and took his hand begrudgingly. “Let's just go home”

He hummed in agreement and unlatched the door, and you followed him out, retracing the same path as you had taken to get here. He moved with more confidence now, knowing exactly where he was going and what to expect.

If only he hadn't been distracted by your hand in his, or the butterflies in his stomach at your promise of talking when you got back, the opportunity to spill his heart to you and convince you to let him in. If only he had been focusing on the task at hand, then maybe he would have noticed the marine, walking in the opposite direction, and the way his eyes flicked towards you as he passed. He knew you were there, he could sense it with his haki. Killer noticed too late, gun already drawn, shot already fired, a bullet already lodged deep within your chest cavity, carving its way through a rib on its journey.

You spat blood, the crimson scattering over his shoulder as he turned just in time to watch the cloak drop, the two of you now visible and exposed as you grappled with the bleeding hole in your side. Killer moved fast, his punishers activating and removing the head of the marine before he had the chance to shoot again, but he was too late regardless - the damage was already done.

“Seastone,” you spat blood on the gravel, “Killer you have to leave me”

“I'm not going anywhere without you,” he pulled his sash from his waist and threaded it under your signature jacket, using it as a makeshift bandage to quell the bleeding. You leaned hard against him, your energy fading fast. It was different when the seastone was inside you, you weren't just a little sleepy as you were with the small piece on your bracelet, you could feel it actively draining you, your knees giving out underneath you from the exhaustion.

“They will have heard the gunshot, marines are gonna surround us any minute Kil,” you shook him as you tried to force him to listen to reason, “the guards will be alerted, the gates will be locked, the only way out of here is going to be moon stepping. I don't have the strength Kil, and you can't moon step fast enough to avoid bullets if you're carrying me”

“So we'll get captured, I'm not leaving you,” he insisted, “Kid will come find us, he has our vivre, even if they try and take us to Impel Down he'll catch them on their way”

“Kil, you won't make it that far,” you tried to explain, “they won't kill me, they need my fruit to stay out of rotation, but they'll execute you before Kid even realises anything is wrong”

He hated that you were right, and he was being torn in half as his loyalty to Kid and his love for you raged war inside him. This is why he had never wanted this in the first place, if you were anyone else he would already be gone. You removed your jacket and bracelet, shoving them inside his bag as he crouched in front of you.

“You have to go,” you removed your mask and forced it into his arms, “please don't die for me, please”

“I can't, I can't just leave you here,” you could both hear the hundreds of feet marching towards you, the metalic rhythm of weapons clinking as they were jostled by running.

“Killer, please,” you shoved him away, pleading with your eyes, which were pricking with tears. “Please don't die here. Just go, live your life, help Kid find the One Piece, fall in love with some girl who isn't afraid to open up to you, live”

Killer's own tears were beginning to escape him, so, unable to speak, he lifted his mask and kissed you. It was soft, all encompassing and all adoration, it spoke deeply of his love for you and you finally felt your walls break, far too late for it to be of use. You kissed him back before shoving him again, pulling yourself to your feet and unsheathing your sword, your other hand tight against your wound.

“Run, Killer, run,” you turned away from him, unable to bear watching him leave, raising your sword as the first wave of marines rounded the corner and came at you.

And so he ran. He ran from you like he always did, moon stepping till he cleared the boundary of the base, bullets whipping past him as he made his escape. As soon as he was clear he returned to the ground, moving faster now that he could press his full strength against the ground, running till the hill over the cave became visible. Heat spotted him from the opening of the cave, having been watching for his return, and quickly disappeared back inside to alert the crew. The plan had always been for the ship to raise anchor on your approach, for the two of you to moon step the remaining distance and make your escape, so that's exactly what he did as the ship came into sight, moving fast to flee to the ocean.

He hit the deck hard, panting and clutching at his chest for the ache he felt. Kid hurried to him, the wind on their side, propelling the ship as fast as it could away from the island. He was quick to notice your absence, and the mask in Killer's hands as he stood to full height.

“Where is she?” Kid barked.

“Kid, I-” Killer stuttered.

“WHERE IS SHE?” he yelled, grabbing Killer's collar and pinning him to the mast. A sob escaped Killer, a tear rolling off his chin to wet Kid's hand, and Kid immediately relented. “Heat, take command,” he ordered as he grabbed the front of Killer's shirt and pulled him to his cabin, before anyone could clock his breakdown. To any onlooker it just looked like he was going to scold Killer for losing an important weapon, not to comfort him after losing a love.

He ripped his mask off the second they stepped inside, throwing it to the bed along with your mask, pacing back and forth and tearing at his hair. “I fucked up Kid, I was too distracted, I didn't sense the other haki user,” Killer sobbed, “they got her with a seastone bullet, I couldn't do anything, this is all my fault”

Kid sighed and wrapped his arms around his friend, Killer sobbing into his chest and wetting the bare skin there. He wasn't sure what to say. This felt like his fuck up more than Killer's. The log poses he sent them for weren't even needed, it was all just an elaborate plan to force the two of you together. He never considered it could go wrong, he never weighed the risks of the needless plan.

“Is she alive?” Kid asked.

“She was fighting them when I left,” Killer replied through heavy sobs.

“Then we'll get her back, Kil,” Kid whispered, “we're not leaving her there, we're not letting her go back to that life. She's one of us, we'll kill every fucking marine that stands in our way till shes home safe with us”

“What if she gives up this time Kid?” he cried, “she knows what they'll do to her, what if she just ends it herself to save herself from it?”

“She's strong, she won't do that,” Kid assured him, “she's had a taste of freedom now, she has something to fight for. We'll get her Kil, you have my word”

There was nothing else Kid could say, so he just held Killer tight till his tears stopped falling, before leaving him to rest and heading back on deck to bark orders. Every man was to ready himself, it was time to go to war.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[coconox]

my 2 cents on the state of whb

i've been contemplating about my thoughts on this game since i never really sat down and processed it, and a month of not playing the game and just keeping up with fandom content/official game news i think i can properly format my words (hopefully idk lol)

if you're looking for a specific section dw i'll properly format everything under the cut so you can just scroll till you find whatever you're looking for (also head's up it's insanely long i'm sorry but kinda not sorry i wanted to just put all my thoughts into one post rather than multiple)

SMALL INTRO

for some context on my experience, i have been playing this game everyday since launch/day 1, i was f2p up until i got juno's card, which i'll talk about later, but just know in advanced that juno was the only case where i've spent money. i uninstalled around the time the announcement was made in regards to no posting full stories of paid content, so almost month ago, and only reinstalled recently to grab certain items to add to the spreadsheet that i've been maintaining since november (aka a month after launch)

i've said it privately to a couple of close friends but i'll say it publicly here: imho, i think they released the game way too early even with the fact that they delayed launch 3 times.

i understand a handleful of bugs are from the fact that the public servers are significantly larger than test servers, but playing this game after the servers kinda stabilized feels like we are the test players, like we're constantly given rough drafts rather than the final copy.

the localization is rough to say the least, but i think i've been so used to it from other gachas that i've played that it didn't really ruin the experience for me,,, except when the text would switch to an entirely different language HJGFDHJGK

from visual bugs to gameplay bugs to voiceline bugs, there's been a lack of communication in terms of what has been fixed and what is still a wip. instead the players just have to "fuck around and find out" in terms of whether something has been fixed or not.

as i continue to state the issues with this game and its direction i'd like to put a disclaimer that i am by no means an expert in any of this stuff lol. i'm just a guy who nerds out over math, spreadsheets, and video games and everything i'll be saying is my personal opinion based on what i've seen/experienced.

THE ISSUE(S)

SOLOMON SEALS AND GACHA

i think the first mistake was them adding solomon seals in the first place. based on what packs in the past looked like, it looked like red keys were originally designed to be for debut characters, but instead they throw a curve ball and add ANOTHER gacha currency that was essentially p2w only up till some point early this year. this ultimately led to there being 2 standard banners, both of which essentially do the same thing except one doesn't have A/B/C-ranks. the fact that now even with realm of seraphim, in order for f2ps to have enough to guarantee with seals, they need to save for a year and a half. that is WAY too long for ONE character. this is of course worst case scenario of needing to hit pity, i'm aware you can get characters early but you should never always expect you'll get early in gacha games, i learned that the hard way during my idk how many years i've been playing gachas lol

i personally think that there's no winning across any of the gacha banners. there's no pity for either of the standards, and debut L/S-ranks have imo too high of a pity for what we're actually receiving per week. we essentially get more or less 1 pull per week in terms of red keys, yellow keys, and seals through dailies/weeklies alone, though of course that can vary cause of the rng key boxes, monthly login rewards, etc.

PANCAKES

there seems to be a general pattern that i've noticed of rather than confronting an issue directly they try to create something new in hoping that fixes the issue instead. an example of that would be the pancake shop.

the old pancake shop was fine as is, we could get a multi for relatively cheap price and get pie boxes everyday (albeit they're rng but pies are pies). what they could've done was add the L-ranks and skip tickets or whatever new thing they wanted to add into that old shop, adjusting the currency wherever necessary. yet instead they just remove the old system entirely and replace it for a new one that no one really asked for? while having the L-ranks in shop are nice, an entirely new system wasn't necessary to make that one relatively small addition. having A+-ranks and lower give gold and books was also not necessary, we have resource stages containing those 2 things and it's very accessible to everyone. what resources we are lacking in however are tears and pies, which are arguably more important than gold and books since those 2 currencies are the core to ascending/lvling characters and their skills.

PIES

i've emailed pb in the past in regards to if there will be other permanent methods for obtaining pies, and their response was holy coin portal and events. those two are NOT stable enough for pie income considering the prices of skills. if there's instances in unholy board where we need to level a character's skills, i'd expect there to be some sort of resource stage that would allow us to get pies so that we can easily obtain that skill level requirement.

"META" GAMEPLAY

i'll explain the quotes in a bit but i do want to put a disclaimer that whb was the first time i've experienced a full on tower defense style gameplay for gachas. i was already familiar with how it works kinda because of neural cloud even though the game as a whole is more like an auto-chess game of sorts, but some story gameplay had tower defense mechanisms and i learned a fair bit from playing that. personally i also haven't played arknights since i'm trying to cut down on the amount of gachas i play but i am aware of its playstyle through friends who like to attempt to drag me into playing it cause of certain characters that i might simp over (*cough flamebringer cough insider cough chongyue cough*)

disclaimer aside, trying to piece together what characters work and what don't genuinely hurts my brain. i put "meta" in quotes because realistically there's only 1: all L-rank light types, ideally at least 1 tank, maybe 1 healer (though a tank can act as both), rest be whatever dps you'd like really (preferably satan considering the fact he can be extremely reliable without his ultimate unlike a few characters). of course, everyone will have a different opinion on what they deem as meta, but that's the general idea i'd personally follow based on what kind of battles have been given to us, what characters are available, etc. the rest tbh are just "cope and seethe" for lack of a better term.

there's a huge type advantage with light and dark types, and i really wish they could buff the other elements more just show they have some spotlight too. i also wish there were more non-light L-ranks. as of making this post, out of the 23 L-rank characters there is currently only 1 non-light L-rank, and it's juno, an L-rank fire marksman.

the part that really "hurts" me the most (don't really know what other word to put here LOL) is the fact that this game is going in a very specific direction of just dps'ing through everything and hope you clear the stage before the enemies kill you.

this game has a huge and imbalanced ratio between dps characters and support characters regardless of element. the fact that we only have 5 healers (NOT including lucifer (victory) considering he's technically a marksman and the healing is from his artifact and not in his skills) and 8 tanks, whereas marksman and close-rangers have twice or thrice the amount is absurd. what pains me more is the fact that for tanks, if you don't have mammon, you're screwed. arguably the best non-mammon option players have that's accessible is bimet. valefor and eligos share the same kit with the fact that their downfall is the possibility that they could be instakilled the second they pop their ult. healers on the other hand are somewhat more lenient. if you don't have lucifer, marbas is your next best, then gamigin (marbas and gamigin can technically be placed interchangeably since their healing differs by 0.1%, it just depends on who you have), then morax, then maybe buer but he only heals 1 unit at a time rather than multiple but i digress. healers still have multiple and very reliable non-L-rank alternatives whilst tanks really only have 1. i really, really hope there's more support units in the future cause man this sucks.

NIGHTMARE PASS

spending $50-$70, on paper, is significantly better than spending ~$400 for a character, and that's really the only "good" thing about it 💀

$50-$70 may feel like nothing to some players, but to a majority, that is a portion of a cost towards food, groceries, rent, etc. basically, i'd assume a majority of people would prioritize surviving than watching pixels on a screen.

i understand at the end of the day pb is running a business, but for kings to be fully locked behind a paywall knowing for a fact that a majority of the player base are 1. casuals/f2ps and 2. are here for the kings is absurd. plus with the fact that typically nightmare pass characters aren't added to standard and aren't always 100% guaranteed to rerun in the future just puts the nail in the coffin for me.

i think it makes more sense for non-kings like juno to be in nightmare pass because it's just additional fun and silly content that arguably won't be tied to the main lore and whatnot, maybe referenced as a silly bit here or there but it'd be more of an easter egg than something important that you absolutely need to know.

personally i bought juno's pass because i love his design, kit, and voice. story was kinda meh for me personally but i really just cared more about the va and gameplay. gameplay-wise, he certainly does not disappoint as a gehenna support unit. but do i regret purchasing him? yes and no. oddly enough this was probably the first i've ever felt guilty in terms of buying something i wanted in a gacha game. yes i regret it in terms of i'm no longer really playing this game anymore, which is unfortunate considering i barely made it through half a year of this game's release. yet at the same time, no i don't regret it because he is a really fun unit. for example, when it's gabriel's rotation in realm of seraphim, juno's, leraye (nostalgia)'s, and leraye's ultimates absolutely DESTROY gabriel in a matter of like <10 or so seconds and it's so satisfying to see. i also just really like his va, scratches a very particular itch in my brain.

anyways before i get sidetracked over appreciating juno, the fundamental flaws of nightmare pass are essentially

you shouldn't need to buy both tiers to get the character. you should realistically need to buy the highest tier and by default it unlocks all previous tiers below it

ui is a bit confusing. i still don't get why f2ps have to unlock parts of nightmare pass that they can't even access/obtain. there should be a clear separation between what f2ps get, what advanced tier gets, and what premium tier gets.

it's too expensive. most bp's i know are ~$10 at the highest tier, though that's considering the fact that bp's i'm familiar with only give cosmetics rather than actual units

from what i've heard through the grapevine, beel (bath) is basically in the same formatting as all the other currently existing bath cards, which are all currently obtainable through gacha. beel has no reason to be in nightmare pass. it genuinely makes no sense as to why pb put him there aside from getting money and that in-turn alienates a majority of the fan base since we can't even view the prologue of card stories if they're a nightmare pass character.

when nightmare pass was first released during christmas, everything was in chaos. the fact that a nightmare pass character needed the other two limited gacha characters gameplay-wise is absurd (mind you, this was before we were given the chance to earn seals through weeklies). everything was too expensive, and rather than an enjoyable christmas event it felt like a "merry christmas, now give us money" kind of situation. i think nightmare pass should not be happening as frequent as it is now. the gap between gabriel and juno was perfectly fine (4 month gap btw), but for a nightmare pass to happen back to back on top of gacha events is too much for both f2ps and p2ws.

the point of buying packs, bp, anything that costs real money in a gacha game is so it makes your gameplay experience easier, paying shouldn't be the main component of your game. personally based on what i've experienced through playing gacha games you should theoretically be able to pull for almost every character on debut just by playing dailies/weeklies/events, yet here we get a bit over a multi per patch (this includes playing realm of seraphim).

DICTATING FANDOM INTERACTIONS

i wholeheartedly believe a fandom is what keeps a game alive. a hindrance to the fan base is a hindrance to the game, which can be seen with the aftermath of pb announcing that legal action will be taken if full stories of paid content are shared publicly. while i understand from a business standpoint that pb would want to enforce the "no sharing full story" thing for paid content since they want players to yk, buy the card, like i mentioned in the previous section, the majority of the player base just cannot afford it.

the people who posted full stories wanted to share to those who cannot afford it, some people may not want only tidbits of the story but rather the whole context, especially those who enjoy dissecting character lore but don't have the irl funds to fully experience it themselves. some people may even want to archive it, cause honestly no one knows how long this game will stay up and we want to archive story so that it's something we can easily look back on. to essentially make players borderline terrified on trying to figure out whether or not it's ok to publicly post stuff in relation to any sort of story content is absurd.

there is also that loophole of what is defined as a paid story. when events end and get put behind a paywall, does that now count as paid story or is that still ok? what about debut L-ranks that are behind seals and there's a 3 month downtime till they're added to standard? or is it just referring to nightmare pass characters? paid stories in the context of the state of the game right now is insanely broad, it's practically at least 50% of this game (i'm exaggerating (or maybe not i wouldn't be surprised if that was actually the case)).

i understand no datamining, while it technically speaking isn't illegal, it's disrespectful to the devs, but a lot of these call to action methods they're announcing are rather extreme imo.

with the most recent cards either being put to standard 3 months after their banner ends or flat out paywalled and not 100% guaranteed to have a rerun, story content as of late has been very sparse. what people want most is a main story update, which we were originally promised to be updated every 3 months and it is now month 6 and we still have nothing.

EVENTS AND EVENT STORIES

event stories being locked behind a paywall after the event ends is probably the first time i've ever seen a gacha game do this. most of the gachas i've played either don't archive event story at all and just rerun it every year, don't rerun or archive the event at all (i.e. if you miss it, cope and seethe), or they archive it for FREE. it feels insanely greedy how EVERY event story needs payment if you ever want to backread an old event.

what also concerns me is the fact like instances like gamigin's event or beleth's event carry so much lore for their respective region and that may never show up in main story, which then screws new players over in not knowing the full context behind every region. events like minhyeok's or bimet's are fine in the sense that it doesn't carry that much lore in comparison to the more recent events. the first few events were like silly banter and getting to know a bit more about the cast.

also changing the event shop from daily pies to a set limit per account was an awful choice it just emphasizes my point earlier of how unstable obtaining pies are in this game.

FULFILLING PROMISES

i think while it was a smart move to list what's gonna be implemented throughout the year, they shouldn't have stated deadlines on when they're doing so.

the following are the things that still aren't implemented yet as of making this post:

new daily chats (expected within february)

friends system (expected within march)

birthday system (more specifically celebrating your bday) (expected within april)

new main story chapter (new chapter expected every 3 months)

if pb were to just say "here's what to expect in 2024" and NOT give specific months, that's fine, but giving these specific months sets an expectation that they would complete it within that timeframe. main story for example is probably the one people have been anticipating the most. by now as of july, if we were to follow the expectation pb gave us, we would currently be on chapter 7, or at the very least chapter 7 would've been released some time this month. we have not even gotten chapter 6 yet. chapter 5 was released in january. it has been 6 months since the last main story update. failing to meet these timeframes will make people upset, because it was mentioned in the announcement that it's 1. a promise (i hope i'm not the only one that takes promises seriously) and 2. in bold yellow text, "what we can realistically expect to see in 2024." the only promises that were fulfilled on-time were the ones in january, the rest have been delayed by at least a month. if you're giving a timeline of what's happening, announce if there's any changes to that timeline, because not doing so will make players believe you were lying to them even though you probably aren't and are instead just falling behind schedule.

i think what hurts more to me is the fact that they aren't publicly communicating these delays. it shouldn't be our responsibility to find out why or when something isn't happening within the timeframe they promised (e.g. by emailing them), it should be up to the devs to communicate that publicly to us. i'm not saying they should overshare what's going on behind the scenes, it can simply just be a simple announcement of "hey, we're very sorry but we're having some technical difficulties with this certain feature and we need more time. here is some compensation in the meantime, thank you for your patience and again, we're very sorry." it's that simple.

FINAL THOUGHTS

i mentioned back in my intro that i feel like this game was released too early purely because the fundamentals of making a bare minimum decent gacha game are just not there. if every patch update has people complaining on what's just recently been added/removed, you're not fully listening to what the audience wants. while i understand pb is a small business, a business is still a business regardless of size and criticism/feedback is necessary especially in a game dev setting.

i've followed this game's news ever since it was teased, which was december of 2022, i've lurked/participated in the fandom (on here at least) ever since september of 2023. i've felt a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions of "omg this is so great" to "why is this even a feature," hoping that over time the game would get better, but the only thing that's improved was server stability (and even that's still a bit rocky 💀).

a huge part of my stay was just being a lurker in the fandom. i genuinely appreciate all the creatives who fulfill asked prompts of characters, make ocs, fanart, write theories, reactions + many more. i love seeing other people's works/opinions and having just a lively fandom made it all more fun.

but at this point this game is just not for me. i've really only stuck around to read mammon's lore but since main story hasn't been updated in 6 months i'll really only chime back in when there's finally an update. it still amazes me to this day that my patience lasted this long. i think i've covered everything i wanted to cover but my memory is swiss cheese so if i forgot something,,, woops 💀

as for the future of the spreadsheet for those who check back on it, it's still being managed by myself and windy, who has been a huge help since day 1 of creating the build lists and team comps and i honestly can't thank her enough for also enduring this pain of a game with me as we've worked on this spreadsheet together hgjdfgh (luv u bestie 🫶). though it's written in the narrative that both of us will eventually quit updating it entirely if this game persists on not having any signs of improvement. when that day comes i'll make sure to post an announcement about it.

as for myself i'm probably still gonna lurk in the fandom/keep an eye out on game news. i doubt i'll be making any fanart anymore unless if i really have the motivation/boredom for it, but currently i'm revamping the "aesthetics" of this account so nothing's really set in stone. maybe i'll make a few whb rambles here or there if some game news really irks me but for the most part i've already been in the process of moving on to other things.

if you've stuck around this long to read this mess of a post, thank you for sticking around and have a cookie, you deserve it 🫴🍪

[antigone-ks]

Lantern of Evil

It's been almost 5 years since I posted this on AO3, so I thought it was time to clean up some typos and put it onto Tumblr.

MASTERLIST

Summary:

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

***

Or, Steve gets de-serumed and falls in love over art, old movies, and taxi dances.

Rating: E for Explicity, Eventually

Tags: Steve Rogers/Reader; Plus Size Reader; Natasha Romanov (Marvel); Tony Stark; Sam Wilson (Marvel); James "Bucky" Barnes; background Bucky/Nat - Freeform; Skinny Steve Rogers; Pre-Serum Steve Rogers; Post-Serum Steve Rogers; De-Serumed Steve Rogers; all of the combinations of serums and Steves; Slow Burn; Awkward Flirting; Awkward reader; Awkward Steve Rogers; neither of these goobers know what they're doing; shameless Letterkenny reference; False Identity; horrible misunderstandings; love in art galleries; love on bridges; love on front porches; will earn rating in later chapters; I hope; inappropriate use of a history degree; Short Reader; Profanity; Fluff; Angst; Fluff and Angst; Smut; Oral Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Making Out; definitely third base; not all-the-way parking but pretty close; Biting; Cunnilingus; Fellatio; Vaginal Sex; Steve wants to be clear that this isn't fucking; Making Love

Chapter One: The Greens of June

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

____________________

You settled onto the bench, bag on the floor. The museum had barely opened – a bad sign; it meant you were either blocked or stir-crazy. Or both. Both was bad. You’d had the museum on your list of things-to-do-if-you-had-time, but when you’d first come to town you’d expected that there would never be time. You were getting the change of scenery and relief from responsibilities that you’d always wanted, so of course you never imagined that the same old problems would plague you.

Namely, writer’s block. Imposter Syndrome. “Every word I write is trash and I should sleep in the dumpster”-itis.

You’d gotten this amazing opportunity to take a sabbatical, move half a continent away, and just research the hell out of your magnum opus, a stroke of historical genius. Or what would be your magnum opus, if you could get the damn thing off the ground. Right now it was stuck at brevi opus.

Opus minimis.

You had piles of research, and a good starting point, but you either got stuck on the writing of it or spent days on end organizing the data until the sun coming in the curtains made you feel like a Morlock crawling out of its hole.

So you’d hit the museum.

It’d actually been working pretty well for you, the last few weeks, and you’d started making it part of your routine. Rather than wait for the Bad Times to force you out of the house, you’d come down every two or three days and just . . . pick something. A painting, a sculpture, whatever caught your eye, and you’d study it until your mind felt clear. Sometimes your mind would wander far enough afield that it circled back to your work, and you’d excitedly jot down a new avenue to explore or a turn of phrase you liked. Sometimes you got nothing but a peaceful feeling. Either way, it was good for you, and the initial guilt you’d felt at not being Productive At All Times had faded.

It sort of was productive, anyway. You told yourself so.

For the last couple of visits, you’d sat with Hamilton’s Joan of Arc and the Furies. It was Shakespeare’s Joan, about to be captured by the English and burned for heresy. It’s not . . . good . . . you think, you don’t like it, but there’s something about it. It’s like two different paintings in one, dark and bright, overbearing and reticent.

There aren’t many people around yet, no kiddie camp visits today, so you’re alone in this part of the gallery. The docents are used to you by now, and don’t bother eagle-eyeing you. You lean your chin on your hand and stare hard at Joan, at her Merveilleuse gown, which, like, didn’t Hamilton know she wore pants? Like, famously? But anyway.

“You know,” a deep voice said, “I’ve always wondered what’s going on with the light down by that first fury. What does it symbolize?”

You look over your shoulder at the speaker, a slightly-built blond man with a sketchbook under his arm. He’d shown up a couple of times before, wandering around with more purpose than the average tourist, like he knew which pieces he liked and why. He had a delicate face and serious eyes with just ridiculous lashes. You smiled uncertainly.

“Like, where even is it coming from? Under her skirt?” you ask, and he looks down at you and whoa nelly those are very blue eyes and chuckles.

“Is it the lantern of justice?” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

“Probably not in Shakespeare. Maybe a lantern of evil.”

“She keeps a lantern of evil in her skirt?” He’s smiling openly at you now, and it’s a really nice smile, and that’s the only excuse you have for what comes out of your mouth next.

“Lantern of evil – in my pants!” you chirp, grinning.

His eyebrows shot up and he gave an incredulous hah.

“Like, like the game?” you say hurriedly. “Where you add ‘in my pants’ to a quote, or a movie title?” You can hear your voice rising nervously and fiddle with your glasses to avoid looking at him. “One ring to rule them . . . in my pants?”

He’s laughing now – probably more at you than at the joke – but it’s enough to relax you a little bit.

“I have never played that game,” he said, eyes dancing. “But I know just the person to try it with. I’ve seen you here before,” he went on, glancing back at the painting. The tips of his ears went very pink.

“Yeah, this is turning into my happy place when work’s not going so well.” You look at Joan again and clear your throat. “I think I saw you, too . . . maybe Sunday?” Not that I noticed you. I’m not a creeper. I notice nothing. I can barely see.

He nodded and shrugged. “Probably, yeah. I’ve been here a lot over the past week.”

“Work got you down, too?” you ask. He kind of purses his lips and nods. Taking a breath, you gesture to the empty half of the bench. “Want to share Joan with me? She’ll take your mind off it.”

His smile is a slow, gentle thing, and even though you say nothing more until it’s time to leave, you feel warmer for sitting near him.

***

“Because they’ll clog up the drain.” Tony’s voice is clipped.

“They get rid of odors,” Natasha points out.

“So it was you.”

“You think I drink that light roast nonsense?” She looks up as Steve enters, the light of battle in her eyes. Well, the light of annoying Tony. It’s not hard. “Weak.”

“Now you’re a coffee snob, Romanoff? You – “ Tony points a pair of tongs at Steve “ – do some reconnaissance, rally the troops, whatever it is you do, and catch this villain.”

Steve clucks his tongue and fails to hide a grin. “Coffee grounds again? You know, we could just get a Keurig and solve that problem easily.” He ducks as both Tony and Natasha turn on him, allied in outrage.

“Just for that,” Tony says, “you get whichever steak I overcook.”

Steve eyes the barstools at the island. He can get into them now, but it involves just enough scrambling that it hurts his dignity. No one said anything the first time he did it, not even Tony, and that was somehow worse than teasing would have been. He’s not broken, for God’s sake. He’s a man of temporarily reduced stature. It’ll be fixed in no time, Bruce and Tony and Helen have promised, but . . .

He’d read a book once that described a gnome as a person whose ‘belligerence was compressed into a body six-inches high and, like many things when they are compressed, had an inclination to explode.’[1] Steve didn’t consider himself belligerent – although he had the urge to cross himself in penance and hope that Bucky was in a different building when he thought it – but he did feel like every human emotion was currently packed into a body too small to hold it all. This body didn’t fit, except that it did, and Steve honestly wasn’t sure which feeling was worse.

He leaned against the counter with – he hoped – an insouciant air and nodded at Tony. “’s long as I can gnaw through it.”

“Are you impugning my grilling skills, Rogers?”

“Wait, you’re gonna grill those?” Sam and Bucky entered the kitchen, apparently fresh off a sparring match. Sam’s skin glistened with sweat, and Bucky wasn’t much better off. Sam might not have super serum in his veins, but he wasn’t a pushover in the ring.

“How else d’you cook ‘em?” Bucky asked, wrinkling his nose at Sam.

“You sear ‘em on the stovetop in a cast-iron skillet,” Sam said, holding up one finger, “finish ‘em in the oven,” two fingers, “serve with a garlic-herb butter.” Three fingers, waved in Bucky’s face.

Natasha leaned on the counter next to Steve and pointed her phone toward the argument. “Every time,” she whispered, hitting "record."

“Every time,” Steve answered.

“In the oven? Cook like a man, Sam!”

“Grill makes ‘em too dry,” Sam insisted.

“Hey!” Tony snapped his tongs at Bucky. “My meat. My rules.” He straightened his shoulders under Sam’s withering look. “On the grill, flip once a minute for the good grill marks.”

“That’s overhandling.” Sam’s tone suggested he was heading straight to church to light all of the candles for Tony’s soul.

“Wait – everyone, wait,” Steve broke in. Natasha quirked her lip at him, annoyed that he was ruining the show. He winked at her. “The real issue here is, aren’t you gonna season those things?”

“Yeah, where’s the salt and pepper, bud?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t start with me,” Tony warned.

“Where’s the steak spice,” Sam asked, rummaging through the cupboards. “I made you a steak spice months ago. My own blend, Tony. I gifted it to you. I’m not eating one of your bland-ass steaks again.” Tony abandoned the meat in favor of bodily hauling Sam away from the cupboards, giving Bucky time to grind at least a little peppercorn on each of the steaks.

“ – my steaks alone!” “ – killing the flavor, man. Killing the flavor!” “ – oversalting!” “ – can’t cook ‘em right, you leave it to someone who can!”

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you already seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

Steve’s eyes were wide with injured innocence. “Snuck? Back in? I –“

“Can it. I don’t care – probably no one will recognize you – but if Tony finds out he’s going to turn into Chicken Little about security.”

“Tony can go lay an egg,” Steve said firmly, making Natasha snort with real laughter.

She sighed. “As hilarious as this is, I’m getting hungry." her voice carried across the kitchen. "Knock it off of or I’m calling Rhodey in.”

Tony straightened, Sam’s arm still around his neck. “Betrayal, Romanoff. I feel betrayed.”

“Yeah, no calling in the brass,” Sam complained. “We can settle this on our own.”

“Better settle that meat on the grill before the others get here,” Steve said. “Want help?”

“Excuse me,” Tony said, affronted. “I can handle the meat.”

The words left Steve’s mouth before he could stop them “ – in my pants?”

Natasha dropped the phone.

____________________

[1] Terry Pratchett, The Fifth Elephant

case/lang/viers – “Greens of June”

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

Read Chapter Two

[trivalentlinks]

saw this cute reddit Am I the Asshole post by reddit user tway23421 with peak enemies-to-friends energy and thought my friends here might like it.

Also here's another enemies to friends story from its comment section with a similar energy, but from the rebellious asshole kid perspective (by reddit user D_OShae)

AITA (Am I the Asshole) abbreviations:

WIBTA = would I be the asshole

NTA = not the asshole

[Image ID

1st image: reddit r/AmITheAsshole

Posted by u/tway23421 11 hours ago

WIBTA for spraying some kid with my garden hose daily after he walks all over our lawn

I (37M) live with my wife (37F) and son and daughter ( 9 and 11 respectively).

Recently, there has been this kid who comes by our house after playing soccer and either rides his bike or walks over the lawn with his cleats on his way home.

It started out as me giving him stern looks whenever I saw him, then it slowly progressed to me asking him to just go around.

The last time I asked him to stop he made a point to stomp extra hard and twist his feet in to the grass to piss me off.

Since then Ive just been hosing him. The first time I sprayed him with the hose he ran off, but then for some reason he just started standing there while I hose him like he enjoys it.

Its now progressed to me sitting on my lawn chair pointing my hose at him, and him just staring at me while he does so. Sometimes we even make small talk.

Im ngl, it started off as a really bitter relationship, but Ive actually gotten to know the kid quite well, we talk for maybe 15-20 mins everyday, and he doesnt seem to mind being hosed down after sweating hard playing soccer.

He comes by daily and we just shoot the shit while I hose him and he stands there for a bit.

Wife told me I need to stop, even after I explained it to her she said Im making us look like childish idiots.

I guess I could stop, but honestly its really funny waiting for him to come by and I see no harm in it. WIBTA?

2nd image:

Comment by D_OShae 4 hours ago:

NTA, and this is actually kind of sweet.

When I was in my teens, I used to visit a small greasy spoon (diner) where my friend was a waitress. This old guy (late 70s) came in every day at the same time and sat in the same booth. He would order one of three meals. One time I sat in "his" booth doing some homework (and drinking a ton of coffee refills). The man came in and told me -- not asked -- that I needed to move. I did. It happened again a couple of weeks later. He called me a little bastard for sitting his both. A couple of days later, I did it again on purpose. He called me a little bastard and told me to move. I moved my books. The man grumbled and sat down.

Over the course of about two months this scenario got repeated. Somewhere along the line I asked him about a ring he wore. The stories started to come out. I learned he and his late wife came to that restaurant for over 20 years to have dinner. I was sitting in her place. However, I kept asking questions, and he kept relaying his stories. This man lead an AMAZING life, and I listened to any tale he wanted to share. This went on for two years.

When he died at the age of 81, I went to his memorial. I met his children and grandchildren. When they asked how I knew him, I told them my tale. His children laughed because he called everyone a little bastard, male and female alike. Then I began to recount some of the stories he told me. His children verified some, but then they heard stories he never told them. I ended up meeting with his children several times to tell them everything he told me.

Mr. Banhke, I am not a believer, like I told you many times, but I still think of you and your incredible life. You are not forgotten.

]

AITA (Am I the Asshole) abbreviations:

WIBTA = would I be the asshole

NTA = not the asshole

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

so…i might’ve written stuff for the treebark coffee shop au (from this post) instead of doing homework…

—

“That’ll be six eighty-eight.”

Martyn drums his fingers against the hardwood counter, his other hand sliding a styrofoam cup across it. It’s followed by a paper bag, which smells strong of the buttery pastries inside.

The rack of heaters buzz to his left, loaves of bread lined up perfectly to one another, top-to bottom. The steam from it puffs his way, freshly baked dough filling his senses whenever he breathes in. Sure, it might’ve taken a bit of his time, but they were nice to look at.

The was cafe quiet today, music from the speaker sat on the far side of the counter filling the space in lieu of its usual laughter and chatter. Even with the song, the whizzing of cars passing by seemed to be louder.

In the room to his left, the muffled shrill of a mixer and the words, “No, putting pancake batter in the toaster isn’t a good idea—you were hired to be a cook for a reason!” can be heard. Martyn snorts softly.

He’s one of the people who actually decided to come into work today; the shop’s staff of seven weaseled their way down to three, meaning that he’ll be with Cleo and Skizz until closing time. He doesn’t mind at all, actually. Despite him being a sophomore and the two being seniors, they click well together, going out for coffee when all three of their schedules align.

He remembers the first day he came in, which, oddly enough, is something Martyn would not like to remember. 

His supervisor had been sick, which meant that he’d have to figure things out on his own. Martyn was given the task of making an expresso, and somehow confused it for cold brew. To say the costumer was unhappy was an understatement, and to say Skizz couldn’t stop wheezing was a bigger one. 

Cleo saw what happened, and Martyn supposed they pitied him, because she soon taught him cold coffee stored in the fridge for multiple days is vastly different than a drink brewed in under thirty seconds.

Even if it has been three years, he knows neither of them will get off his case about it. Whenever Martyn opens the fridge, Skizz calls, “That’s not where we put espressos anymore!” across the room. 

And patterns seem to stick, because Cleo and Skizz will not get over his feelings for Ren, either.

Martyn decides that telling his coworkers that he finds one of his usual costumers attractive has been a curse. Skizz has been playing Cupid for at least three weeks, trying to set-up outings for him and Ren. Cleo claims to discourage this, but she swoops by the register and drops subtle hints to his feelings when his back is turned.

Even if it may be annoying, Martyn has learned a good amount of things about Ren. He likes poetry, theater, and apparently is in the same astronomy class with Grian. (something he has to ask the other about once he gets home)

Now he’s fishing for his wallet in the back of his jeans, long hair sweeping against his graphic tee.

Ren’s fingers glide through the pockets and zippers of his wallet, sifting for coins that pool at its sides. Numbers splayed across credit cards peek behind his thumbs as Ren moves them along. He plucks out a one, five, and a couple of dimes.

It’s really now or never, and Martyn isn’t sure if he can wait any longer.

In a moment of split-decision, Martyn clears his throat.

“So…you’re Ren, right?”

[g1zm0de]

I would like to request a platonic/queerplatonic fic for South Park Post Covid Michael/Henrietta! :3 I don't have much specifics except that it would be neat to see fluff of them ... Also if it'll be possible to sneak some indication of them being aroace/on the aro ace spectrum that would be soooo coooool (👈 aroace creature projecting onto cartoon characters TM)

If you don't have any ideas for those two alone genuinely a fluff fic focused on Post Covid Goth Kids would be so nice too!!! Thank you sm in advance and for opening requests:))

QueerPlatonic! PostCovid Michael / Henrietta [fluff]

an: Howdy! thank you for the request!! I hope its to your liking! I'm still getting back into the swing of writing fanfic ahaha (Also you're so real for projecting onto characters, I do it all the time lmao.)

Michael and Henrietta are both in their late 40's (49-48) Enjoy :)

If anyone were to ask Michael and Henrietta what their situation was, they would look you right in the eye and tell you that there was nothing that needed to be explained. Their answer remained the same anytime that question was brought up.

They were themselves, and that shouldn't matter.

Henrietta's mother, in her younger years, would prod Henrietta and ask her if she and Michael were together. It would end with Henrietta giving a long winded response about how she didn't feel the need to call it anything it was or wasn't. A sentiment shared by Michael.

Michael's parents would ask him if he had found a nice girl and thought about marriage, and in some cases asking if they were ever getting grand children. The answer every time was no. Unlike Henrietta, he on occasion refers to himself as being on the Ace spectrum. He doesn't make a huge effort to make it known, if it comes up in conversation then he'll explain.

Both of them never really felt the need to get into a relationship in the traditional sense. They weren't a couple, but they weren't just friends either. There was a spark of some sort that just drew them close to each other. The feeling wasn't romantic or even just a 'hey you're a really good friend.'

It was feeling like no matter what future they imagined for themselves, the other was there.

It led them to where they are now, being in their late 40's living in a shared home with a scruffy looking cat whom they named Bela.

Most days were spent by just the two of them sitting in their living room, a book in Michael's hand and a needle and thread in Henrietta's. Bela often napping by their feet. During the week they would take turns cooking the meals, but Friday's were the days they would meet with Firkle and Pete at the Village Inn. Just like old times.

Nights were spent in their shared bedroom, a CD of a band they enjoyed in their youth playing quietly in the background as they just sat in bed talking about their day until one or both of them falls asleep.

That spark never went away, as well as the lack of a name for what they were.

They were themselves and they were happy.

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 18

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 1502

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 18

After Sam and Maria left the kitchen for that tour, Dean went to the library with the dragon following. He had found it completely weird that images were coming to his mind, and he knew they were coming from Bubbles, convinced that was her name.

“So, how come she can’t see your thoughts,” Dean asked the dragon when he sat down at one of the library tables, the dragon in front of him.

The dragon tilted its head like it was contemplating how to answer him. The word “stubborn” reverberated softly in his mind, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, she seems pretty stubborn. How do you plan on convincing her to talk to me if she can’t hear your thoughts?” he asked somewhat curiously.

Again, the dragon seemed to be thinking. Then Dean could have sworn it shrugged its shoulders.

“Well, you’re no help,” he laughed and then swore the dragon glared at him a little, making him chuckle again. Dean reached out and rubbed the dragon's chin, and it made that purring sound, “This might be easier if she actually believed,” he sighed.

Something Dean had given up on a long time ago was a relationship. His job, hunting monsters, kept him from getting close to anyone, especially after what had happened with Lisa. Even with his thoughts wandering now, the dragon just watched him. The last thing Dean ever wanted was for someone else to get hurt, or worse because a monster was using them as leverage to get to him. 

Well, at least she’d agreed to drinks and conversation, which Sam was thankful for. He hoped it would help ease the tension he could tell had been building since he’d said she was just a case. She looked almost nervous when he brought her a beer, trying not to chuckle when she immediately took a drink of it. 

Dean’s attention kept going from the dragon to her as the dragon kept showing him the image of two people talking. It took everything in him not to chuckle, but he couldn’t keep the smile from playing along his lips. When Sam set the whiskey and glass down for him, he poured himself a double. It was called liquid courage for a reason, and he was gonna need it. Being nervous around a woman was something he’d never struggled with before, but she was different. “So, uh, what did you want to talk about,” she asked, somewhat quietly, not looking directly at either of them.

The little dragon walked over to where she was sitting and climbed into her lap. She set her hand on its back, over its wings, as it curled up comfortably. Sam had been debating how to start this since before he’d ever brought it up to her.

“Well, we’ll have to make a supply run in the next couple of days. What kinds of things do you like to eat?” Sam asked her, finding a simple and safe topic to start off with.

“Oh. Umm,” she began, then paused, sipping her beer for a few moments, “I like most meats, potatoes, cereal, some fruits.”

Sam chuckled, “Tell you what, we’ll make a list, and you can add what you’d like to it, or you could just go with us. Alright, what kinds of things do you like to do?”

“I like to bake and read stuff on Tumblr,” she replied, and it almost seemed like she was embarrassed at that.

Dean raised an eyebrow. She’d said the magic word, bake, “What kind of stuff can you bake?” He felt his breath hitch in his lungs again when she looked up at him with those deep, dark blue eyes of hers.

“All kinds of stuff. Following a recipe is easy,” she replied casually.

“Come on, Sweetheart, you gotta give me something more specific than that,” he chuckled, his curiosity getting the better of him. He really wanted to know what she could bake.

She furrowed her brow a bit, “Breads, cookies, cakes, pies, and everything in between.” “You had me at pie,” he smirked, sipping his drink.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, “What’s your favorite?” 

“Apple, but I like all kinds of pie. Cherry is a close second,” he answered, still smirking happily. She was sweet, kind, beautiful, and she could bake. If it weren’t for the pull he already felt for her, he would be feeling one now.

She looked over at Sam, “Maybe we could add the ingredients to the list so I could bake,” she suggested, still seeming a little nervous.

“I don’t see why not,” Sam replied, giving her a friendly smile. He was grateful she was at least talking, and Dean was getting involved. Although, so far, she wasn’t really asking much about them, at least she seemed to be trying.

“Are you two gonna keep the sigils on?” she asked quietly, looking more at her beer than at either of them.

The brothers exchanged a look, having a silent conversation, which they did often. It was something neither of them had discussed, and they weren’t entirely sure how her powers would affect them. “We hadn’t talked about it,” Sam replied and sighed, “We just don’t know the full extent of how your powers will affect us. We’ve been hunters a long time and were just doing it as a precaution. It’s nothing against you,” he tried to reassure her.

“Well, uh, mine is mostly gone anyway,” Dean said, fidgeting a little, as he hadn’t said a thing to his brother about it, “Pretty sure it’s useless right now.” Then he finished his drink and poured himself another.

“Dean,” Sam said quietly, although frustratedly, giving him a look to match. Dean just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, then leaned back in his chair, drink in hand. He glanced over at her just in time to see her smile a little.

“I’ve never hurt anyone, just being around them,” she said quietly, then finished her beer.

Sam got up, grabbed a six-pack out of the fridge, then returned to the library, setting it on the table so he and Maria could both reach it when they needed another. He was slightly frustrated with his brother, but at the same time, if his suspicions were correct, the sigil was pointless for Dean.

“We get that. We just had to take precautions. Like I said, it’s nothing against you,” Sam again tried to reassure her.

“So, uh… what do you guys do when you aren’t hunting?” she asked quietly again, getting herself another beer.

“Well, we watch movies, play phone games sometimes, listen to music,” Dean answered, still with that happy, stupid smile on his face that he couldn’t get rid of, even if he’d wanted to. She was kind of adorable when she was being shy.

“Some of us read too,” Sam added, side glaring slightly at his brother.

She chuckled quietly, “I like to do those things too.” 

To the brothers, she still sounded nervous, “What kinds of things do you like to read?” Sam asked.

They both noticed how she bit her bottom lip nervously, not really looking at either of them. “Mostly fanfics on Tumblr. But I like sci-fi stuff,” she replied, still in that quiet, nervous tone.

“Why do you seem so nervous?” Sam finally decided just to ask her.

She sighed, taking another sip of her beer. “Most people just think I’m weird with the stuff I like, so I don’t usually tell anyone,” she answered quietly.

Both brothers chuckled, “You don’t have to worry about that. We’re not most people. Our lives are like a sci-fi novel or movie,” Sam told her, stifling another chuckle.

“Or like Halloween, every day of the year,” Dean added, pouring himself another drink.

She looked up at the two of them, and all Dean wanted to do was go hold her. She looked so sad to him, causing his smile to fade. Now, all he had to do was figure out what he could possibly say to get her to smile again.

“Weird is kind of our thing. It would be weird if our lives were normal,” Sam told her softly.

“So, you don’t think I’m weird?” she asked, sounding slightly nervous.

“Not really. Not in a bad way anyway,” Dean told her, trying to think of something smooth to say. His mind kept going blank. “You seem like our kind of weird.” Then he wanted to kick himself for saying that, at least until he heard her giggle.

“I don’t think anyone’s told me that before,” she giggled quietly again.

Sam saw the huge smile that Dean got, it went from ear to ear, “Honestly, Maria, just be yourself. Most people would probably find us weird.”

She smiled a little, “I think everyone should be at least a little weird. Normal can be boring,” she stated, finally finding a regular tone and not being as quiet as she had been. However, she was now on her third beer.

That got both brothers laughing. At least she seemed to start opening up. Either that, or she was getting buzzed, helping to lower her inhibitions.

An hour later, she’d had five beers total. The room had been filled with laughter, and now, she and Dean were arguing with Sam.

“Bacon is a meal, and there’s no way you can convince me that it isn’t,” she said with stubborn confidence.

“God, you and Dean both need a new diet. That much grease isn’t good for you,” Sam tried to argue back, making them both laugh again.

“Death by bacon. I can live with that,” Dean mused, sipping another glass of whiskey.

Sam couldn’t believe the statement that had just come out of his brother’s mouth, “You do realize that is an oxymoron, right?” “Whatever it is, I can live with it,” Dean stated, causing Maria to laugh again. It was like music to him, and he never wanted it to end. Then there was her smile, which could brighten any room. 

“So, what’s the weirdest case you two have had to go on?” she asked, still laughing some at the bacon argument.

“Uh, that’s a tough one,” Dean replied, leaning back in his chair again, thinking back over all the cases they’d had over the years.

“We’ve had several weird ones,” Sam chuckled, thinking back.

“Well, what was the weirdest?” she asked again, seeming utterly curious.

“There was that time we were cartoons,” Sam mused, as that had been really weird for him.

“Wait, you were a cartoon?” she asked, seeming surprised and even more curious.

Dean chuckled, “Yeah. It was a ghost that was haunting a TV. I got for the Dean Cave. The ghost pulled us into an episode of Scooby Doo. Velma kissed Sam.”

She laughed at the story. When she caught her breath, though, she looked at Sam, trying to stop the continued giggles, “So, how was it getting kissed by a cartoon?”

He was still slightly embarrassed over that ordeal, “It was… kinda weird.”

“What do you mean by weird? Like, how the kiss felt or just the fact that you were a cartoon?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

Sam chuckled, “Kissing a fictional character that is a cartoon.”

“What about you, Dean? Did you get to kiss Dapne?” she asked, turning to him and raising an eyebrow.

If only she knew how incredibly adorable he found her, “No. She’s got a thing for Fred,” he chuckled.

Then, out of the blue, Sam put his hand on the side of his head, a look of realization crossing it, “I know why Crowly wants her, before her powers awaken.”

Great way to ruin the mood, Dean thought to himself, but he was also now curious, “Well, spit it out already.”

“Rowena’s his mother. She could perform the spell, to awaken her powers, leaving Maria indebted to the both of them,” Sam told them, finally having put the pieces together.

Maria grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table and drank at least two shots worth, “Wonderful,” she grumbled, setting the bottle back where she’d gotten it from.

“That explains what Crowley told her, about when she changed her mind,” Dean sighed. At this point, he was just hoping that they could keep her safe. If she believed in soulmates or was even open to it, things could go differently, and Dean knew that.

The one thing the brothers could tell about her was that she wasn’t the kind of person to not find a way to pay back a favor or act of kindness. The mood of the evening quickly shifted. Both brothers noticed how she seemed to get uncomfortable with the revelation.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” she said fairly sullenly.

“I’m sorry Maria. It just came to me, and I blurted it out without thinking,” Sam apologized as she stood up, carefully picking up the sleeping dragon.

“It’s okay. I should get some sleep anyway,” she replied, although she sounded like something else was on her mind.

“Okay. Try to get some sleep,” Dean told her, softer than he realized.

She didn’t look back at them before she left them alone in the library and headed to her room.

“Dude, Seriously?!” Dean turned to Sam and told him, frustrated, “That could have waited till later.”

“I said I was sorry. It’s not like I was purposefully trying to upset her. Although, it’s kinda cute how you’re smitten with her,” Sam replied, teasing his brother a little. He really couldn’t resist.

“Jerk,” Dean mumbled, finishing his drink.

“Bitch,” Sam chuckled.

“Back to the Rowena/Crowley thing. He can’t get in here, but she can. Now what are we supposed to do?” Dean said, trying to figure out how they would get around this one.

Sam leaned back in his chair, beer in hand, “There’s not much we can do about that,” he sighed.

The problem with witches is that they were human, so a lot of things wouldn’t repel them or keep them from entering a home, like salt to ward against demons or ghosts. Rowena was also the most powerful witch alive, being over three hundred years old. They didn’t know all of what she could do, but they wouldn’t put anything past her abilities. She had removed the Mark of Cain from Dean, after all. On top of that, she knew where the bunker was, having been there several times to help with certain things when it was in her best interest.

“I might be able to find a protection spell, though,” Sam finally said, breaking the silence and getting on his laptop.

Sam had learned a few tricks from his interactions with Ruby many years ago. Then there were all the books in the bunker, several of which were spell books. The Men of Letters believed in using magic. It was a means to an end.

“Okay, just, don’t forget about us. The last thing I want is to piss that woman off too badly. She’s got a temper,” Dean told him.

So Dean drank while Sam poured through his laptop and books for the next several hours, far into the night. Maria never came back out of her room, and Dean hoped that she was sleeping and not sitting awake and alone.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 19

Tag List: @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

[officialjanetweiss]

List 8 tv shows for your followers to get to know you.

Tagged by @nero-neptune

OOPS I was tagged in this like a year ago and am just getting around to posting it 😅 I’m the queen of starting these and then saving them to my drafts to finish later and then just abandoning them. ANYWAY

(I, too, am giving a lil blurb for each one bc I love to talk)

Desperate Housewives

I started watching it a couple weeks ago finished it in the spring and I love one (1) republican. I am now slowly thrifting all of the seasons on DVD

My mom watched it when it first aired and I never sat down and joined her but I remember catching glimpses. As an adult I knew I would love it before I even started and I was right! It has WOMEN. It’s outrageous. It’s hilarious. It’s addicting. The theme song is glorious!! Almost every episode title is a reference to a Sondheim song!!! It has (mostly) aged surprisingly well. And in general it just reminds me of a time before streaming when TV was…different. Idk how to put it into words but first of all, remember when shows had 20+ episodes per season? Never forget what they took from us.

Glee

IYKYK. Any “old” songs I know I know because of either Glee or Rockband. Jayma Mays was my awakening. It introduced me to Rocky Horror and many other musicals. It got me into media literacy/critique and was the first show that I anticipated every single week and the first show I gave up on before it ended. I could go on for ages but you just had to be there (my tumblr from 2012-2015).

Passions

I watched this with my mom as a little kid and am slowly rewatching now. Soap operas are a staple on her side of the family and Passions is the only one I ever got into, because I was like 4 and there was ✨magic✨. As an adult I’m not even really into fantasy but in this case it works for me bc it’s so balls to the wall insane. I definitely don’t think I could get into it today if it weren’t for the childhood nostalgia. It ran for almost 10 years, which is not long considering some soaps are still kicking after 50 or 60. But at 2,231 episodes it’s a LOT if you’re not used to the slow pacing of the soap opera format. It’s so special to me though. I have cat and baby names picked out bc of characters on this show. AND THE THEME SONG!!

Soap

My all time fave. For 10 years I have run the only tumblr blog dedicated to Soap. It’s hilarious and touching and was ahead of its time. Susan Harris is a genius. Fleabag falling in love with a priest? Susan Harris did it first. That lady on Days of Our Lives being possessed? Susan Harris did it first. Who shot JR? Susan Harris did it first. The Golden Girls sitting at a table eating dessert and talking about sex? Susan Harris did that but she also did it BEFORE SHE DID IT. I’ve rewatched this show so many times and there are still scenes that make me laugh out loud. I would die for Jessica Tate. Bury me with the boxset.

That Girl

Just started watching this (in real time, not a year ago) and it’s just so fun!! Marlo Thomas is a cutie. Her wardrobe is unreal. I’ve laughed out loud quite a few times. She has great chemistry with the leading man whose actor’s name I shan’t bother to look up. I feel like I started watching it at the perfect time in my life too.

Ann Marie 🤝🏼 Cute little aspiring actresses who just moved out on their own to the big city and don’t have sex 🤝🏼 Me

Trial & Error

Came for Jayma, stayed for everything. Last year I watched Arrested Development for the first time and if you like that show I think you’ll like Trial & Error. Mockumentary style, wacky characters, great running gags. It was gone too soon and I’m still waiting for a season 2 DVD release.

Out of the Box

Here’s a throwback bc who am I if I don’t put a kids show on the list? I loved this show when I was little. It’s so underrated. I showed it to my current babysitting kids when I first started watching them and they love it too :,) Watching it as an adult makes me so emotional idk why. It warms my heart. If I were to ever become a preschool teacher I would make the babies sing the ending song at their graduation and make their parents cryyyy. If you have little guys in your life you should show it to them. It’s on Disney + (eewwww) but there might be episodes on youtube too.

Instead of blabbing about an 8th show here are some runner ups that I’ve enjoyed over the years, some of which I think are v underrated: Tuca & Bertie, Girlfriends, Mum (BBC, not to be confused with Mom, which I also enjoy), Fleabag, Go On, Jane the Virgin, Wonderfalls, Masters of Sex (might be due for a rewatch of that one), The Fosters (fuck them kids tho), Pushing Daisies, One Mississippi

I tag @lifesizehysteria @cakesexuality @sic-transit-gloria-mea and you can do it again @nero-neptune, I know you have more shows to talk about.

[hwascomfort]

Oh no...

pairing(s): Choi Soobin x reader

genre: flluff?

warning(s): just soobin getting his relationship outed by none other than his dumbass of a partner. we love it! || annoyed soobin lol

wc: ?

notes: havent posted in a while, so heres some fluff for our beloved soobs

ult masterlist

Whose idea was this? To make Soobin do a live out of nowhere while he had you over? Oh right, it was the staff, the staff that Soobin usually loved to no end. He would definitely be glaring at them for at least a week after this, there was no doubt about it.

At least Taehyun and Beomgyu had been roped into the live too. That made it the slightest bit better. But still! He had invited you over for dinner and a movie, maybe he could have you stay the night because the following day was a rest day! But his plans were ruined the moment you had sat down to eat.

Now he sits in the living room with Beomgyu and Taehyun off to one side, being unusually cuddly with one another (Soobin has a feeling that its to spite him). He cant even see you either, what with you now residing in Yeonjuns room, eating dinner with Yeonjun, talking with Yeonjun. God, Soobin has never felt more annoyed while doing a live.

It's only been ten minutes since it started, but Soobin has had the urge to end it before it even begun. Damn it all.

Soobin instead stares at the incoming comments on screen, leaning his head on his hand and absentmindedly fiddling with his fork in the other.

'Taegyu and the third-wheel, Choi Soobin ㅋㅋㅋ'

Even moa are bringing it up!

"Look hyung, moa said youre a thirdwheel!" Beomgyu laughs and Soobin has the urge to throw his fork at him.

Taehyun merely grins, hand in Beomgyus hair as he leans back into the couch behind him.

"Yah! I had plans with-"

He snaps his mouth shut, glaring at the two before angrily shoveling food into his mouth.

"Ohoh! Had plans with who?"

Soobin almost reaches over to smack Taehyun upside the head.

'With Yeonjun hyung??? 👀'

'Did the live interrupt something?'

'He looks so mad! sorry soobin'

Soobins brain practically glitches for a moment.

"With moa! You two interrupted"

Taehyun and Beomyu exchange a glance. Then they snicker.

"Poor Yeonjun"

Beomgyu pulls out his phone.

"I could call him, if you want!"

Soobin internally questions why Beomgyu seems to enjoy his suffering.

"He's in his room, dont call him for that"

Beomgyu just smiles all the more before leaning back into Taehyun.

'So we did interrupt a yeonbin date!'

Soobin feels like crying out of frustration. Instead, he sighs inwardly and shakes his head, taking another bite of his food.

"Awe, come on hyung~ dont get mad"

Beomgyu leans into Soobins side, hugging him and petting his head.

"You know we love you!"

"Yah... get off" Soobin shakes the younger off of him, lips pouted as he stares at the food in front of him.

Soobin thinks of all the ways he could try and get out of the live, playing the options in his head and zoning out of whatever the other two are saying now.

Theres no way he can get away.

He cant say hes sick, he cant act tired, he cant say he needs the bathroom, he cant even act like another member is calling for him!

He doesnt notice the sudden silence, nor the incoming comments.

He feels hands on his face and when he looks up, all he can see is you bundled up in his hoodie and crouched in front of him.

Soobin closes his eyes in content, letting you squish his cheeks softly before he feels you pressing a long kiss to his lips. Soobin is sure that he looks like a love struck fool.

You stand up and pet his head before walking off.

He takes a couple moments to stare dazedly at you, smile on his face.

Its when he catches sight of the two boys beside him that realization hits.

His eyes widen and before he knows it, theres an onslaught of comments rushing onto a screen.

"Oh no..."

'WHO WAS THAT!?'

'ALL I SAW WAS HANDS??? WHO-'

'CHOI SOOBIN???'

'YAH. WHAT JUST HAPPENED'

Beomgyu all but disolves into a silent puddle of laughter.

"Hyung-"

Soobin clasps his face in his hands.

"I'm done for"

[machiroads]

anirevo 2024 con report belooooooow

THURSDAY NIGHT, AUGUST 8TH

Left my office at 4:30. Took the bus to the ferry straight from work except the GODDAMN BUS DIDN'T ACTUALLY STOP TO PICK ME UP so I had to wait for the next one and missed the 6:00 ferry so I didn't get to my hotel in Vancouver until after 10pm oof

The slow bus was very nice once i got over being mad about the fast bus leaving me on read by way of listening to linkin park. It goes through some very quaint rural areas.

I purchased a can of wine on the ferry which was like $15 for 8.5oz. I don't know how I feel about this but I do feel like I got ripped off because the wine was only ok

I edited and posted ch2 of WTBL&W entirely on my phone which may or may not have been a mistake. Getting the html formatting right wasn't too bad, but editing the splash image for twitter and bsky on photopea was uhhhhhhhhh a mistake. FAFO

FRIDAY AUGUST 9TH

My hotel had one of those fancy toto washlets so you bet your ass my butt was squeaky clean all weekend

My hotel also had a room service menu that had a bowl of oatmeal for $14 as an offering. Which. No.

I got an actual breakfast at a tiny hole in the wall crepe place staffed by a single old man, then trundled over to the con to pick up my badge at like 10ish. I was in line behind a cute couple in horimiya cosplay

The first panel I actually wanted to see wasn't until like 12 so I sat on the seawalk, finished my coffee, watched floatplanes, and replied to AO3 comments. 11/10 banger morning.

I watched an improv comedy D&D skit, which was fun, then traipsed down to the exhibition hall to do Some Shopping

MERCH REPORT: nobody really had heroaca stuff? Or if they did it was just the main kids. Still lots of people with HQ stuff, which I'm encouraged to see years after its ending. I'm happy with the pin selection this year tho, I picked up some nice stuff (but I think i will need to find additional capacity on my button collection because it's p much full oops)

BONUS COSPLAY REPORT: There also weren't really any heroaca cosplayers either, i saw like 1 shinsou, a couple bkgs, and a handful of people in nonspecific UA gym uniforms. Very strange. I did, however, see like 3 Nanamis within the span of 2 minutes on Saturday. (i don't even go here re jjk but he was the basic white boy cosplay of the year)

I spent like 2 hours in the exhibition hall and my brain hurt so I got poke for lunch, went back to the hotel to eat it, then took a nap

I went back for another couple panels on Friday night (a panel with vancouver VA graham hamilton, and another improv advice panel)

SATURDAY AUGUST 10TH

I went bra shopping on saturday morning because i accidentally overstuffed my backpack last week and zipped my bra into the zipper and tore the liner whilst trying to extract it. This is not relevant to the con, however it was an important part of my weekend

There wasn't anything I wanted to see at the con in the morning so I didn't get there until like 2:00 so I could line up for the cosplay contest. I'd never been to one before, and I don't really cosplay mself, but I've recently been watching some sarah spaceman videos, so I thought it would be fun to go see a contest for the first time.

On the schedule the contest is supposed to start at 2:30. There's like 6 down-and-backs of queueing space for people waiting to get in. When I got there around 2ish there were people milling about saying they'd cut the line. I loitered a bit longer until some admin looking folk went around telling people to disperse because queueing outside of the taped off area was a "fire hazard", and to come back at 3:00 when the event started. At this point, the line of people illicitly queued for this event wrapped probably halfway around the building, and the VCC is a Large Building.

I assume the delayed start time was probably due to pre-judging going long (thank u sarah spaceman for this education i now know how cosplay contests work), so i wasn't too fussy about that, but the fire hazard thing was a little silly to me because I'd been in the exhibition hall already which to me seemed like waaaaaay more of a fire hazard than a generally orderly line. Regardless. I bummed around on the seawalk for a bit and then went back just before 3 and managed to snag a seat. The contest itself ended up being really fun, and I'm glad i stuck around for it.

I went to another 3 panels on Saturday night, all 3 of which had similar queue capacity issues, and all 3 of which started late. Again, when the panels themselves started, they were all really fun, but logistically it seemed like they had some challenges. It does feel a bit silly to complain about though when I have literally nothing else to do that weekend tho haha

I attended the Philosophy of Science in FMA and Dr Stone (TIL epistemology is a word), a panel about adaptations that are superior to the source material, and...............yaoi bedtime stories. Which was a hoot.

SUNDAY AUGUST 11TH

Kind of a chill morning. Got some goodies at a bakery for breakfast / lunch / to bring home, checked out of the hotel, then trundled over to the con.

I went to a panel that was just a bunch of tables set up with colouring sheets and books and stuff and that was super what I needed. I coloured the eeveelutions from memory (and only forgot half of their colour schemes), and then there was a little time left so I also coloured in a cardcaptor sakura.

I thought about attending cosplay life drawing afterwards but ended up just heading home after colouring since I was kind of Done after a full weekend. There was another improv dragon ball tribute scheduled, but not until like 6:30pm and if I stuck around for that I wouldn't have gotten home today lol

No bus mishaps on the way home fortunately

ANYWAYS that's all folks thanks for reading about my dramatization of what was actually a pretty chill weekend.

[clumsyprincesstofu]

The Game Night Incident

NOTE---Another self indulgent one^.^ This one got a little heavier. Still debating on posting the smut fics I have Saved o.O Any prompts or requests no matter how big or small send my way!

TW!---smoking, talks of being high

You and Ryan had been friends for years, having met through Justin. Of course you and Matt were also friends, but you and Ryan just had a different bond. Your once a week smoke and game sessions had become a tradition. Sometimes Matt and Justin would join but most of the time it was only the two of you. No one knew when the two of you had devolved into flirting openly, but everyone around you knew the two of you were crazy about each other. Everyone that is, except the two of you. For you it was just flirting and you weren't his type, for him you were too good for him.

What no one else knew was that the once a week traditional smoke and game sesh had now turned into smoke, game, and end up in bed together. You never told anyone and swore to yourselves each time was the last, yet still you found yourselves in the exact same spot every week.

This week Matt and Justin had joined your game night, all if you sitting in your living room. You watched the tv as Ryan played Elden Ring, all of you already roasted. You sat between Ryans legs, your back against the couch as he played above you. You looked up as he leaned his elbows on his knees in concentration, grinning as he smirked down at you, winking quickly before looking back at the screen. You turned your head to the others, blushing when you realized Matt had seen that whole exchange. You quickly leaned forward to the pizza boxes scattering the floor, grabbing a slice of cheese pizza and munching quietly.

"FUCK dude" Ryan yelled angrily, slamming the controller down on the couch. You laughed, shoving his knee beside you playfully. "Dude you suck!" Matt said, passing the joint to Ryan and taking the controller. Ryan took a hit, blowing smoke up and coughing harshly. "Yeah? I suck? You try asshole you're more high than I am!" You felt a tap on the top of your head. Looking up, you saw Ryan's hand above you. He put it in your mouth, and you tried desperately to ignore the feeling of his thumb brushing your lip and the way Ryan's eyes darkened as you inhaled, licking your bottom lip when he pulled away. "Its not his fault you suck," you winked at him, handing him a piece of pizza in return for the hit he gave you, "I'm going to get a beer." You got up, pushing off Ryan's knees and leaning over him, loving the way he looked at you. "Grab me one asshole be a good host." Matt quipped, Justin quickly agreeing. You rolled your eyes at them, flipping them off behind your back as you walked away.

You stood by the sink, drinking some water and breathing deeply. Sometimes you needed a break from these sessions, and always hid out in the kitchen for a few minutes. Smoking made you anxious sometimes, and you tried to hide it. The only one that knew was Ryan, youd confessed it to him during your late night talks. He always reassured you whenever it happened while he was there but knew you were uncomfortable with the other guys knowing.

You smiled to yourself as you felt hands circle your waist, thumbs gently rubbing your skin from under your tanktop. Ryan always got touchy when you guys were high. You leaned back, letting your head hit Ryan's collarbones. "Figured you'd be hiding out. You doing okay?" You sighed deeply, taking another drink before turning around and leaning back against the counter, looping a couple fingers in the waistband of his shorts. "Fine, just taking a breather. You know how I get." Ryan looked down, raising an eyebrow at you. "Thats why i came to check on you, I figured either you needed a break or you thought running away would let you get away with that little comment. Either way-" he shrugged, pinching your ass through your jeans making you laugh quietly. "You better be careful, Matt saw that look you gave me earlier. Im pretty sure him and Justin are keeping an eye on us now." Ryan cupped under your thighs, lifting you up to press you against the pantry door. You instinctively wrapped your ankles around his waist, squealing a little in shock. He laughed at your reaction, muttering "what they dont know wont hurt them." Before kissing you hard. One hand on your ass, the other snaked its way up your top to your bare breast. You moaned quietly against his lips as he smiled at your reaction. His tongue quickly found its way into your mouth as his scruff rubbed your face raw.

"What we dont know huh? How long has this been going on? I knew yall were fuckin' lying." You both jumped, Ryan quickly setting you down. Matt and Justin stood in the kitchen doorway like disappointed parents that just caught their kids drinking. "You guys are never letting this go are you?" Ryan said, rubbingthe back of his neck with one hand in his pocket. "Everybody shut the fuck up and grab a beer." You rolled your eyes, walking towards the fridge nonchalantly, trying to suppress the smile on your face and the rapid beating of your heart.