#should’ve done that but I thought the title was a bit long

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #1 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: You lost your job, got cheated on by your boyfriend, and had to give up your home—all in the span of a few weeks. Life hasn’t been kind lately, and just when it feels like you’ve hit rock bottom, your mom suggests an unexpected solution: move in with Seokjin, her friend’s son, who you vaguely remember as your annoying childhood rival. You haven't talked to him in like 15 YEARS. But begrudgingly, you agree, hoping for this to be a temporary fix, only to find yourself in a more complicated situation when you discover Seokjin has some dirty little secrets. As you attempt to rebuild your life under his roof, tensions rise, boundaries blur, and you’re forced to confront not only your messy circumstances but also your growing fascination with the man you thought you once knew. note: i actually didn't plan to drop something so soon post me starting my new job, but i had this mostly done but had to edit it up a bit. i've been debating to write a roommate au but couldn't decide which member, until i read @daegudrama's moon over flowers fic where jin is a "content creator" ;) also that jin dating simulator game that released yesterday was a perfect combo to add this with warnings: mild language, roommate! seokjin, stressed out reader, fluff, emotional vulnerability, jin being jin, jin's college frat buddy! namjoon cameo, drinking, implied sexual fantasizing, implied adult content live streaming (camwork), very descriptive solo mast*rbation, voyeurism, dirty talk drop date: November 28th, 2024, 9:00pm pst word count: 7.9k crossposted on ao3 here

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This is the state of affairs of your life at the moment. 1. Your boyfriend cheated on you. 2. You lost your job (not your fault) 3. Andddd now you have nowhere to live.

Well… it’s not that you don’t have a place to live, but you don’t want to crawl back to your parents' home after making a very big declaration when you were 18 that you would not be coming back to live there. 

Now in your mid 20s (that are slowly creeping into your late 20s), you regret being that loud mouth girl that didn’t understand a damn thing at that age.

You should’ve been smarter about your decisions, starting with your taste in men. You should’ve listened to your friends warnings about Mingi. 

You’re on the phone listening to your mom scolding you over your stupidity and lack of preparedness. You roll your eyes as you continue packing your items into boxes. She suggests you coming home, just as you figured she’d do, but you tell her that you feel bad about coming back at your big old age. “Then why don’t you live with Sunghee’s son?”

Who the fuck is Sunghee? “Who?”

“You don’t remember? The mother of the Korean boy you went to school with in elementary school?” You have no clue who she’s talking about. This is something that happened like 15 to 20 years ago. You can’t believe she remembers something so obscure. “I still don’t have a clue.”

“Agh, i’ll go search through some of your old elementary school photos and send you the photo of him later.” You hear some shuffling on her end, probably guessing she decided to get up and go look at your old photographs in the living room shelves.” But I recently saw his mom at a coffee shop! And she told me her son was living in the same city as you and was looking for a roommate. I mentioned that you were in some situation where you might need to move soon and she gave me her and her son’s contact info.”

“I see.”

“Oh wait, hold on, I found it.”

You hear her snap a photo and within a few seconds, you see the notification on your phone peep behind the call. You click on it and when you open the message, the memories of long ago have finally clicked.

“SEOKJIN?! That weird Korean kid?!”

“Weird kid?! You were friends with him, weren’t you?”

You scoff, “Barely, I mean, he and I were always at each other's necks because he always tried to one-up me in any way that he could.” Recalling those annoying memories from that era was making you get upset all over again. If it wasn’t him completing the times table tests at a faster speed than you, it was him showing off the Pokemon cards that you didn’t have. If it wasn’t that, it was him showing off his level and ranking in Maple Story. That damn nerd.

It’s been years, but the thought of it still urks you.

She sighs, “Well, if you’re willing to look past that at your big old age, this is probably the best option you have.”

Could you do that? Maybe. But knowing how he was back then, he’s probably grown to become some loser virgin shut-in with no life. Maybe he’s a tech bro, which would make this even worse now.

“I think about it, but this is probably the last resort option I’d even consider––”

Your mom cuts you off with a sharp sigh. "Fine, suit yourself. But you don’t have many options, do you? Just call him. He might have changed!"

You don’t answer her right away because the idea of calling Seokjin still doesn’t sit well with you. You’re stubborn, yes, but the universe has also served you a big slice of humble pie lately. It’s probably time to stop holding on to petty grudges from a childhood you barely even remember.

"Okay, okay, I’ll think about it," you mumble reluctantly.

The call ends after a few more half-hearted lectures from your mom about responsibility, and you toss your phone onto the bed, glaring at the contact info she forwarded. You can’t help but click on Seokjin’s number. There’s a photo of him attached to the contact, and for a moment, you don’t recognize him at all.

He’s…hot.

You blink. This cannot be the same kid you argued with over best MapleStory boss (Seokjin opting for Pink Bean, while you said Guardian Angel Slime). The Seokjin in this picture has flawless skin, sharp cheekbones, and full lips curled in a smirk that screams confidence. His hair is styled perfectly, and his outfit—a crisp button-up and a fitted blazer—makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine.

"No way," you mutter under your breath.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself typing his name into Instagram. It doesn’t take long to find his profile because he has mutual followers and a blue checkmark.

Huh? Why a blue checkmark?

…he has 200,000 followers?

Scrolling through his posts, you see screenshots of video games, clips of intense gameplay, and the occasional selfie with gaming equipment in the background. His captions are filled with gaming slang and memes you barely understand, but the sheer number of likes and comments on every post is undeniable.

One clip catches your eye—a short highlight from a League of Legends game where he pulls off an impressive play, and the comments are flooded with people hyping him up. “JinGod strikes again,” one comment reads. Another says, “Of course he’s the best mid-laner NA. Who else?”

Curious, you dive deeper and discover he has a Twitch account. 

Oh! So he’s a streamer?!

Not just any streamer, either—he’s big enough to have sponsors and a massive following. His Twitch bio is straightforward:

Seokjin | Variety Streamer | Big laughs, bigger Ws | 1 PM KST

His stream schedule includes games like Elden Ring, Valorant, League of Legends, and even Getting Over It. There’s a link to his YouTube channel with clips of him absolutely demolishing opponents, mixed with funny moments of him raging at frustrating games.

You stare at your phone, trying to reconcile this version of Seokjin with the kid you used to fight over the last Uncrustables sandwich at lunch. This Seokjin is smooth, funny, and clearly thriving in a world you know nothing about. The comment section on his posts doesn’t help—it’s filled with people thirsting over his voice and his “handsome gamer vibes.”

“Great,” you mutter. “He grew up to be a famous nerd.”

You hate to admit it, but you’re impressed. And irritated. 

Of course, Seokjin grew up to be that guy.

You put your phone down and stare at the pile of boxes scattered across your room. It’s not like you have a ton of other options, and if you’re being honest with yourself, the idea of moving in with Seokjin suddenly feels a lot less horrifying. Maybe he’s not the same insufferable kid you remember.

Or maybe he is, and this will be your worst nightmare.

Before you can chicken out, you force yourself to pick up your phone and dial the number your mom sent you. It rings twice before a deep, smooth voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. Is this…Seokjin Kim?” you ask awkwardly, suddenly hyper-aware of how unprepared you are for this conversation.

“Yes, who’s this?”

“It’s, um, [Y/N]. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

“[Y/N]?” he interrupts, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “The same [Y/N] who used to cry every time I beat her at anything in elementary school? Of course I remember.”

There it is! The Seokjin you cared about so deeply.

 “I did not cry!” You roll your eyes, grip on the phone tightening. 

He laughs, a low, rich sound that’s somehow both infuriating and…nice. “Sure, you didn’t. So, what’s up? Why are you calling me after, what, fifteen…twenty years? Where did you even get my num–”

You take a deep breath, already regretting this. 

“My mom said your mom said you’re looking for a roommate.”

There’s a pause, and then he says, “...I am. Why?"

"I need a place..."

There’s a long pause, and for a moment, you think he’s going to hang up.

“Ah, well why do you need a roommate?” he asks finally, his tone careful, almost guarded. “I thought someone like you would have, I don’t know, a penthouse or something by now with the amazing corporate job my mom told me you have.”

Now this is going to suck to explain to him that whatever decent apartment you had earning a 72,000 salary at your old job is… nonexistent.

You blink at the assumption and quickly fumble for a response. “Haha, not quite. Most places are too expensive in this economy and I’m, uh, downsizing.”

“Downsizing?” he repeats, skepticism dripping from the word. “Why?”

“Because I want to focus on… minimalism.”

There’s silence on the other end, and you can practically hear him trying to decide whether to believe you. 

Oh this was a terrible decision to make. Now he must think you’re a fool!

You glance around your room at the boxes piled with all the clutter you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away and wince. Minimalism is definitely not your thing.

“Minimalism,” he echoes, his tone still doubtful. “Right. Well, I do have an extra room, but I’m not sure you’ll like it here.”

Your grip tightens on the phone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Let’s just say I stay up late…,” he replies vaguely. 

He must be referring to his streaming career that he isn’t telling you about right now. Wonder if he’s embarrassed by it.

“And I don’t really have time to deal with a high-maintenance roommate.”

The audacity! You did not ask to be attacked right now.

The jab makes your jaw tighten. “I’m not high-maintenance!”

“You sure? Last time I checked, you were the type to lose it over someone messing with your stuff.”

“That was elementary school! I’ve grown up since then.”

“Hmm,” he says, the sound light but still noncommittal. “We’ll see. Come check the place out tomorrow. Noon okay?”

You pause, thrown by his sudden shift. So he’s actually down with you as a roommate? Let’s not get high hopes up now. And if that doesn’t work, you know what? That’s okay.  You will find a way… you hope.

“Yeah, that works.”

“Good,” he says, then hesitates before adding, “And bring references.”

“References?!”

“You can never be too careful,” he replies smoothly, but there’s a faint edge in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“Fine,” you snap, already planning to forge something if necessary.

“Great. See you then.”

The call ends before you can say anything else, leaving you staring at your phone. Something about the conversation feels… off. You can’t tell if it’s his hesitance, the cryptic mention of odd hours, or the subtle curiosity in his tone when he asked about your situation.

Or maybe it could be that it’s been around 15 years since you last talked to him so this entire situation feels like a fever dream.

Whatever it is, you’ll find out tomorrow. One way or another.

The next day arrives quicker than you’d like, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of a massive gated complex that looks like it was ripped straight out of a luxury lifestyle magazine. The building towers above you, a blend of sleek modern design and Mediterranean touches. Creamy stucco walls, wrought-iron accents, and lush greenery climbing up the sides of the buildings make it feel more like an exclusive resort than an apartment complex.

The entrance is lined with tall palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, and the scent of freshly mowed grass mingles with the faint floral fragrance from meticulously arranged garden beds. A stone fountain, its water cascading in perfect tiers, sits in the middle of a circular driveway where luxury cars are parked like they belong in an auto show.

You glance down at your outfit, a simple pair of light wash boyfriend jeans and a blue collared sweater, suddenly feeling underdressed.

“He’s living here?” you mutter under your breath, squinting at the address Seokjin sent you last night again to make sure you’re in the right place.

As you shift awkwardly with your bag slung over your shoulder, the wrought-iron gates buzz, and Seokjin steps through.

If the apartment complex wasn’t enough of a surprise, he certainly is.

Gone is the awkward kid from elementary school, and in his place is a man who seems perfectly at home in his expensive surroundings. Dressed casually in a fitted white shirt that clings to his broad shoulders and a pair of ripped jeans that look way too good on him, Seokjin walks toward you with an easy confidence. His dark hair is styled effortlessly, and even from a distance, you can see the faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“[Y/N],” he calls out, his voice smooth and unmistakably amused.

You shift your bag again, suddenly hyper-aware of how you must look standing there in front of the grand gates. “Seokjin,” you reply, your voice coming out a little more clipped than you intended.

As he approaches, he looks you over, his smirk growing wider. “You’re on time. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because I’d be the last person you’d want to ask for help.”

“Desperate times,” you shoot back, ignoring the way his eyes glint in amusement.

Seokjin chuckles and gestures for you to follow him. “Come on, let’s see if you can survive the tour first.”

He leads you through the gates, where a polished path lined with greenery opens into the main courtyard. The sound of water trickling from another fountain fills the air, and you catch glimpses of the complex’s amenities—an infinity pool that looks like it belongs in a five-star hotel, cabanas with flowing white curtains, and a fitness center with floor-to-ceiling glass walls showcasing state-of-the-art equipment.

“This place is ridiculous,” you say under your breath, craning your neck to take it all in.

Seokjin glances back, his smirk still in place. “You’re not wrong. But wait until you see the inside.”

As you step into the lobby, you’re greeted by marble floors that gleam under the warm glow of chandeliers. The air smells faintly of citrus and something luxurious you can’t quite place, and the concierge greets Seokjin with a polite nod as he leads you to the elevator.

“You’re really living the dream here,” you say, unable to hide the note of disbelief in your voice.

He shrugs, leaning casually against the elevator wall. “With the jobs I have. it has its perks.”

The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, you catch a glimpse of the hallway—plush carpeting, modern art lining the walls, and soft lighting that makes everything feel impossibly serene.

“Ready?” he asks, stepping out and turning to look at you.

You hesitate for just a second before following him. “As I’ll ever be.”

Seokjin leads you down the hallway, his footsteps silent on the plush carpeting. You’re still processing how this guy, the same kid who used to shove his Pokémon cards in your face, is living in a place so fancy it makes your last apartment look like a broom closet.

“This is my place,” he says, stopping in front of a sleek black door with a digital keypad instead of a regular lock.

He types in the code, the lock clicks open, and he pushes the door wide to reveal his apartment.

Your first thought is that it’s huge.

The open-concept living room stretches out before you, its floor-to-ceiling windows flooding the space with natural light. The view outside is stunning—a panoramic sweep of the suburban city skyline and the sparkling blue ocean in the distance. Inside, the place is immaculate, every piece of furniture modern and deliberately chosen. The couch is a neutral gray sectional big enough to seat a small crowd, and there’s a massive TV mounted on the wall, flanked by minimalist shelves filled with what looks like expensive collectibles and gaming gear.

The kitchen is just as impressive, with marble countertops, a matching backsplash, and stainless steel appliances that gleam under the recessed lighting. A sleek island with barstools separates the kitchen from the living room, and you can’t help but wonder if this is where Seokjin spends his time making whatever expensive coffee you saw on his Instagram feed.

“Well?” he says, stepping inside and kicking off his sneakers near the door. “Don’t just stand there gawking.”

You snap your mouth shut and step in, slipping out of your shoes and placing them neatly next to his. The polished hardwood floors feel cool under your socks, and you hesitate, unsure where to stand.

“It’s… nice,” you say finally, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Seokjin chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got? Most people would be drooling right now.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he says, his grin widening. He crosses the room and gestures for you to follow. “Come on, let me show you where you’d be staying.”

He gestures toward the main living area, leading you down a short hallway on the left side of the apartment. “Your room would be down this hall,” he says, motioning for you to follow.

You step into the guest room as he opens the door. It’s spacious, with a queen-sized bed dressed in crisp white linens and a tall, minimalist dresser tucked against one wall. A sleek desk sits by a large window, which offers a view of the glittering cityscape and the ocean beyond. The soft gray walls and warm lighting make the room feel both modern and inviting.

“There’s an en-suite bathroom,” Seokjin says, pushing open another door to reveal a compact but luxurious bathroom with marble finishes and a rainfall shower.

“This is… nice,” you admit, turning to glance at him.

“Only the best,” he replies with a shrug, leaning against the doorframe. “Your hall is completely separate from mine. My room’s on the right side of the apartment, so you won’t have to worry about me invading your space.”

He nods toward the opposite end of the living room, where another hallway extends. “My room’s down there on your left. I have a bathroom in front of it too. Oh. and you’d also have the laundry room and a storage closet near your side.”

You glance back at the main living area, noting the layout. His section of the apartment seems just as private, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved that you won’t be tripping over each other.

“It’s set up pretty well for roommates,” you say carefully, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Glad you think so,” he replies, leaning casually against the doorframe. “This room used to belong to a friend of mine. He was here for an internship a little over a year ago, but he didn’t stay long. Left everything the way it is in case other friends needed a place to crash.”

“That makes sense,” you say, looking around the room again. “So why are you looking for a roommate now?”

Seokjin hesitates for just a second, his eyes flickering toward the window. 

“Well, it would help with a couple of expenses,” 

Your brow furrows. Expenses? You glance around the luxury apartment, mentally tallying the rent for a place like this. With what you know about Seokjin’s successful streaming career—and the office job your mom mentioned—he’s probably doing more than fine financially. But you decide not to press him on it.

Instead, you nod. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“And…” He trails off, his expression softening. Oh, so he is going to explain. “I don’t know, as I’m getting closer to thirty, I guess it might be nice to have someone around. Keeps things from feeling too…quiet.”

The honesty in his voice surprises you, and for a brief moment, you see a different side of him. One that’s not teasing or smug, but… a little lonely, maybe.

You nod again, this time more slowly. “Fair enough. This does happen as we age.”

Seokjin straightens, the moment of vulnerability passing as quickly as it came. “Anyway,” he says, his tone shifting back to its usual playful edge. “We can talk about me more later.”

He gestures for you to follow him back toward the living room.

“Why don’t we sit down and talk first?” he continues, his smirk fading slightly as his expression turns unreadable. “Just want to make sure we’re on the same page before I let you move in.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. “Sure. Let’s talk.”

You follow him to the couch, your curiosity about his reasons for taking on a roommate still lingering in the back of your mind. 

As you settle onto the couch, Seokjin sits across from you in a sleek armchair, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. It’s like he’s studying you, trying to piece together the situation without asking directly.

“So,” he begins, leaning forward slightly, “I already know you lost your job.”

You freeze. The words hang in the air, and your stomach sinks.

 “How do you know that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “My mom told me earlier today. She’s the one who convinced me to even think about this arrangement.”

Heat floods your cheeks, embarrassment prickling at your skin. Of course. Your mom couldn’t just leave you well enough alone so she told his mom.

 “Oh,”

“It’s not a big deal,” he says quickly, likely noticing your discomfort. “Things happen, you know? Besides, knowing you, you probably have some savings tucked away to cover rent, right?”

His words hit harder than he probably intended. Sure, you’ve got a little money saved, but it’s dwindling fast. The thought of handing over any of it feels like admitting defeat, a glaring reminder that you’re not where you thought you’d be at this point in your life.

As Seokjin keeps talking, his tone casual and reassuring, his words blur into the background. You’re trapped in your own thoughts, spiraling.

How did it come to this? 

Broke, jobless, and now sitting here asking for a place to live like some helpless kid. You remember being so confident, so sure of yourself when you left home. You went through grueling years of studying finance in college and graduating. Now you’re here, facing the reality that you’re nowhere near where you thought you’d be.

It’s just so pathetic.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a tear slips down your cheek and lands on your hand.

Seokjin stops mid-sentence. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice cutting through your haze. “Are you… crying?”

You wipe at your face quickly, but it’s no use—the tears are falling faster now, and you’re too overwhelmed to stop them. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, mortified. “I don’t even know why—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupts, his voice gentle in a way you didn’t expect. He shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches you carefully. “It’s okay.”

You shake your head, still swiping at your cheeks. “This is so stupid. I just… I hate being in this position. It’s not where I thought I’d be, and it’s just…” You trail off, your voice breaking.

For a moment, Seokjin doesn’t say anything. Then, he reaches for a tissue box on the coffee table and holds it out to you.

“Here,” he says simply.

You take a tissue and dab at your face, trying to pull yourself together.

“I get it,” he says after a pause, his tone softer now. “Life doesn’t always go how we plan. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Really?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. But you’re not alone, okay? And if you need a place to figure things out, I’m offering you one. No strings, no judgment. But knowing how you’d feel bad for not paying back, just pitch in for some groceries or takeout every once in awhile.”

His words hit you harder than the tears, and you feel a small spark of hope for the first time in a while. Maybe, just maybe, this could work out.

You take a deep breath, the tissue in your hand crumpled from how tightly you’ve been gripping it. “Thanks, Seokjin,” you say, your voice shaky but genuine.

He gives you a small smile, his usual teasing edge softened. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just don’t leave your dirty dishes in the sink, and we’ll be fine.”

A faint laugh escapes you, surprising even yourself. “I think I can manage that.”

He stands up, stretching his arms overhead before motioning toward the hallway. “If you need help with your stuff, just let me know.”

You nod, feeling a little more grounded. “I will.”

The next morning, you’re standing outside your old apartment building, the last of your boxes stacked neatly by the curb. Before leaving the day before, you did ask Jin if he could help you move some of your stuff, and he somehow kindly agreed.

You’ve barely had time to double-check everything when you hear the rumble of a truck pulling up. Turning toward the sound, you see a sleek gray Ford truck roll to a stop in front of you.

Seokjin hops out of the driver’s seat, dressed casually in a lavender hoodie and dark wash jeans, looking every bit the picture of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. On the passenger side, another guy climbs out, taller and broader than Jin, with dimples flashing in a warm smile.

Woah, he’s kind of cute.

“Morning,” Seokjin calls, striding toward you. He gestures to the other man. “This is Namjoon. He’s here to help out with the heavier things.”

“Hi [Y/N],” Namjoon says, his voice deep but friendly as he extends a hand. “Jin told me you needed an extra set of hands, so here I am.”

You shake his hand, still a little taken aback. “Thanks. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.”

“He’s an old college buddy,” Seokjin explains, leaning against the side of the truck. “We were in the same professional fraternity back in the day. That’s how we met.”

Namjoon chuckles, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Yeah, Jin somehow convinced me to join since we were floormates. Said it would look good on my resume. Ended up being one of the best decisions I made, though. The networking was great, and we had a lot of fun.”

“Too much fun,” Seokjin adds with a smirk. “I think we spent half our time organizing events and the other half trying to keep Namjoon from breaking stuff.”

Namjoon groans, his dimples deepening as he laughs. “Okay, that was one time—and it wasn’t even my fault!”

You find yourself smiling at their bickering and brief memory despite the stress of the day. Their banter feels easy and natural, a dynamic that’s comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. It’s nice to hear Jin had a pretty cool college experience.

“Well,” Namjoon says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get started. The sooner we load this up, the sooner we can get everything settled.”

Between the three of you, the boxes are loaded into the truck in no time. Namjoon lifts the heavier ones like they’re nothing, while Seokjin teases him about showing off. You carry the smaller items, grateful for their help and relieved that the process is moving quickly.

Once the last box is secured in the truck bed, Seokjin glances over at you. “Ready to head out?”

You nod, brushing your hands off on your jeans. “Yeah. I’ll follow behind you guys with my car.”

As your car and his truck pulls away from your old apartment, you find yourself feeling a little lighter. It’s still hard to believe this is your life right now, but it doesn’t feel quite as overwhelming. Maybe, just maybe, this new chapter won’t be so bad after all.

The move-in process is exhausting but efficient. Seokjin and Namjoon take charge of the heavier boxes while you focus on the smaller ones. Your room starts to take shape, with your bed frame set up in one corner and your essentials arranged along the walls. The other boxes you don’t need immediately are stacked neatly in the living room, ready to be taken to your parents’ place for temporary storage later.

After two hours of hauling, unpacking, and arranging, the three of you are sweaty and starving.

“I think that’s everything,” Namjoon says, leaning against the couch and wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

“Pizza?” Seokjin asks, already pulling out his phone.

“Pizza,” you and Namjoon echo in unison.

“And chicken wings,” Namjoon adds with a grin. “We earned it.”

“And beer,” Seokjin finishes, smirking. “That sounds good to you?”

You nod happily.

Within half an hour, the smell of pepperoni, garlic, and fried chicken fills the apartment. The three of you gather around the coffee table in the living room, the TV playing 30 Rock quietly in the background. You sit cross-legged on the rug while Seokjin and Namjoon sprawl on the couch, all of you diving into the food like it’s the best meal you’ve ever had.

“So, Namjoon,” you start between bites of pizza, “what do you do now? Not breaking stuff as Jin mentioned, right?”

He laughs, a deep, warm sound that makes you smile. “Thankfully, no. I’m working in publishing now, managing creative projects. Still a little chaotic, but at least it’s not as physically dangerous.”

“Only mentally,” Seokjin teases, raising his beer.

“True,” Namjoon admits, clinking his bottle against Jin’s.

“What about you?” Namjoon asks, turning the attention to you. “What do you do?”

You hesitate, picking at the crust of your pizza. “I worked at a fashion company, but the company underwent some layoffs. So this is kind of…a transitional period for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know it’s been a tough market, but with your focused attitude and experience, I’m sure you’ll find something new soon.”

“I hope so.”

After a few more slices and some casual conversation about work, gaming, and travel, the beers start to settle in. The atmosphere grows looser, and the conversation takes a turn into more, juicier topics.

“So,” Seokjin begins, leaning back against the armrest with a mischievous grin. “Getting into a more interesting topic…Relationships. What’s the story there?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “All of a sudden? Why do I feel like this is a setup?”

“It’s not a setup. We’re just curious. Plus easy topic to become closer.”

Namjoon chuckles, “Don’t bring me into this, Jin,” 

“Well…” You pause, debating how much to share. The buzz from the beer nudges you toward honesty. “Without going to deep into it, let’s just say my last relationship ended badly. Cheating, lies, the whole package.”

Seokjin winces. “Ouch. That’s rough.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But honestly, it’s probably for the best. I’ve got enough on my plate right now without dealing with that kind of drama.”

Namjoon nods thoughtfully. “It’s hard to find someone who’s actually worth your time these days. Everyone’s either too focused on themselves or doesn’t know what they want.”

Seokjin chuckles, a slightly bitter edge to his tone. “Or they’re just not ready to commit, no matter how much they say they are.”

You glance at him, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor. “Speaking from experience?”

He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “I plead the fifth.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t press further. You decide not to either.

“What about you, Namjoon?” you ask, redirecting the spotlight. “Any tragic love stories to share?”

He grins, shaking his head. “Nothing tragic, thankfully. Just a lot of learning experiences. I’ve been too focused on work to really put myself out there lately.”

The conversation continues, flowing easily despite the heavy topic. As the night stretches on, you find yourself feeling unexpectedly comfortable. Seokjin and Namjoon’s company has been a comfortable change of pace from prior weeks of being alone and dealing with the aftermath of your ended relationship and job. Being all alone with your thoughts hasn’t been easy. Lost in a whirlpool of negative thoughts. And with your closest friends, Yunjin and Wendy, living miles away, even leaning on them hadn’t been an option.

But for the first time in a while, you could even say you feel happy to be around others.

The clock on the wall creeps past 11:00pm, and Namjoon glances at his phone with a small sigh. “I should probably get going before it gets too late.”

“Already?” Seokjin teases, though his tone is more playful than serious.

Namjoon chuckles. “Some of us have a really early morning commute tomorrow, Jin.” He stands, stretching his arms overhead before reaching for his jacket. 

“I do too, you know!”

“But hey, this was fun. I’ll definitely swing by again. I’ll see you for your monthly Marvel movie nights, right?”

Seokjin grins. “You know it. You can’t miss those!”

Namjoon laughs, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Let me know when the next one is.”

You and Seokjin walk him to the elevator, chatting casually as you descend to the ground floor. Outside, the air is cooler, a light breeze stirring as Namjoon’s Uber pulls up to the curb.

“Thanks for helping out today,” you say, offering him a grateful smile. “I don’t think we could’ve done it without you.”

“Anytime,” Namjoon replies warmly. “And welcome to the apartment. I’m sure Jin’ll keep things interesting for you.”

Seokjin snorts. 

Namjoon smirks. “See you both soon!”

With a wave, Namjoon climbs into the car, and you watch as it drives off into the night.

You and Seokjin linger outside for a moment, the hum of the city quieting as the car disappears from view.

“Well,” Seokjin says after a beat, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Guess it’s just us now.”

“Looks like it,” you reply, feeling a strange mix of ease and uncertainty.

Well you did just unload some emotional baggage about your shitty past relationship earlier. The alcohol running through your veins isn’t helping either.

“Come on,” he says, nodding toward the entrance. “Let’s get back inside. You’ve had a long day.”

You follow Jin back to the apartment, the soft hum of the elevator ride and the quiet hallways lulling you into a peaceful state. Once inside, the two of you automatically start tidying up the coffee table and living area, picking up empty beer bottles, wiping down surfaces, and folding the napkins that had been left scattered. It’s a quiet, easy rhythm, and before long, the space looks just as pristine as when you first arrived.

“I think we’ve earned a good night’s sleep.”

You nod, stifling a yawn. “Agreed. Thanks again, Jin… for everything.”

He shrugs, his expression light but genuine. “Don’t mention it. Get some rest, Roomie.”

You laugh, “Will do.”

With that, Jin heads down the hallway to the right, disappearing into his room. You make your way to the left, to your room, the soft padding of your steps on the hardwood floor the only sound.

Once inside, you close the door and lean against it for a moment, letting the day’s events settle in your mind. Your room is still sparse, with only the basics unpacked, but it feels cozy enough. The bed, made with fresh sheets, beckons invitingly, and your unpacked boxes wait patiently in the corner, reminding you there’s more work to be done tomorrow.

You slip into something comfortable, wash your face, and settle under the covers. The bed is surprisingly soft, the kind that you could sink into and never leave. But despite the exhaustion tugging at your body, sleep doesn’t come right away.

Your thoughts drift, unbidden, to Jin’s easy demeanor since you’ve started talking to him again. His kind words. His quick, charming smile and laughter. His height—tall enough that you had to tilt your head to look him in the eye. And those plump lips of his…

Huh? No, no wait a minute!

You blink at the ceiling, catching your thoughts veering dangerously south. What the hell is wrong with you? Maybe it’s the beer, or maybe it’s the fact that kindness from a man feels so foreign after everything you’ve been through. Whatever it is, your brain is doing laps around something you absolutely should not be thinking about.

Gross. Stop it. You scrunch your face in frustration, trying to shake the image of Jin’s stupidly handsome face from your mind.

This is Seokjin, your childhood rival, the annoying kid who used to show off his stupid gaming collection and beat you at literally everything. That’s all he is. That’s all he’ll ever be.

He is just kindly letting you stay with him, but you know he’s going to be waiting for you to move out soon enough.

With a groan, you roll over and pull the covers up to your chin, willing your thoughts to calm down. Sleep. That’s what you need. Just sleep.

With a groan, you roll over and pull the covers up to your chin, willing your thoughts to calm down. Eventually, you manage to quiet your mind, and your eyes drift shut. Slowly, the tension in your body melts away, and for the first time in what feels like ages, you fall into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

It’s the kind of sleep that cradles you, soothing the jagged edges of your worries. The stressors in your life—the layoff, the breakup, the uncertainty of your future—haven’t disappeared, but for once, they feel distant, safely tucked on the backburner. This new chapter isn’t perfect, but at least one major burden has been lifted, and that’s enough for now.

Until it isn’t.

The urge comes on suddenly, pulling you from the cocoon of rest. You blink groggily, your senses slowly catching up to reality as you register the weight pressing against your bladder. Turning your head to the side, you squint at the clock on your phone: 2:33 a.m.

You need to pee.

You groan softly. Of course. Why wouldn’t your body choose the middle of the night to interrupt what was probably the nicest sleep you’ve had in months? Throwing off the covers, you shuffle out of bed and head for the bathroom, still half-asleep and stumbling in your room as you walk inside the en-suite bathroom.

The cool tile under your feet jolts you a bit closer to full consciousness. The soft hum of the apartment at night feels oddly soothing, even as you fumble to turn on the light.

After finishing up and washing your hands, you pause for a moment, the dryness in your throat making itself known. Great. Now you’re thirsty too.

The memory of Jin mentioning the case of bottled water he keeps under the kitchen sink stops you. Sighing, you quietly slip out of your room, padding into the darkened apartment.

The space is eerily still, the shadows from the streetlights outside casting faint patterns across the floor of the living room. You make your way to the kitchen, carefully navigating around the furniture, not wanting to stub a toe or knock anything over.

Opening one of the cabinet beneath the sink, you find the water bottle case Jin mentioned. The plastic crinkles as you grab a bottle, and you wince, hoping the noise doesn’t carry too far. Closing the cabinet as quietly as you can, you straighten up and twist the cap open, taking a long, refreshing sip.

As you stand there, your gaze drifts toward the living room and the hallway that leads toward Jin’s room. You notice light seeping from below the doorway. Is he still up? Shouldn’t he be sleeping? He did mention something earlier about needing to head into the office in the morning.

Well… maybe he’s streaming? Jin has been kind of hesitant to talk openly about his side hustle, but after your harmless sleuthing on his Instagram the other day, it makes sense to have this type of scheduling. His posts, the tags, the casual mentions of late-night work—it all points to streaming. And why not? No shame in being a streamer. Plenty of people are wildly successful doing it. And he’s probably catering to overseas fans in Asia during these hours.

You shrug to yourself. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not your business. 

Deciding not to overthink it, you turn to head back to your room. But after a couple of steps in the living room, a faint noise catches your attention.

You freeze.

A voice… soft, low, and unmistakably a moan.

Your breath hitches as the sound cuts through the stillness, sending your thoughts racing. What was that…?

Haha… you must be overthinking things.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure whether to move or pretend you didn’t hear anything at all.

But now, from this angle, you notice something else. Jin’s door isn’t fully closed. It’s very, very slightly ajar.

The realization makes your pulse quicken. You’re not sure why—it’s not like you were planning to barge in or anything. But the faint glow spilling from the room and that sound… it feels like you’ve stumbled into something you weren’t meant to witness.

Your eyes dart to the gap in the doorway, then back to your water bottle. Just go to bed, you tell yourself. Whatever Jin is doing is none of your business. You’ve already overstepped enough by loitering here in the middle of the night.

But your feet don’t move.

Instead, you find yourself stepping a bit closer, trying to make sense of what’s going on. The soft glow of a screen flickers against the walls, accompanied by faint, muffled sounds—another low moan, followed by a voice, Jin’s voice, quiet but distinct.

He’s probably just streaming, you reason, though your mind betrays you, replaying the noise you just heard. That didn’t sound like any gaming commentary you’ve ever heard.

Your curiosity battles with your better judgment. This is weird. This is weird. Go back to bed, you scold yourself. Yet, you find yourself taking a hesitant step closer, your bare feet silent against the floor.

Peering at the slight crack in the door, you catch a glimpse of Jin sitting at his desk, his back to the door. He’s wearing a loose-fitting hoodie, the hood pulled halfway up, and his headphones cover his ears.

You hesitate for just a moment too long, your eyes flickering back to the gap in the door. Jin shifts slightly in his chair, and that’s when you see it—his hand moving slowly, deliberately, along the length of his member.

Oh my god…

Your breath catches in your throat as the realization slams into you. 

You catch yourself lingering, unable to look away despite every nerve in your body screaming at you to turn back. Jin’s hoodie hangs loosely over his broad shoulders, the fabric shifting slightly with his movements. His hand moves with deliberate intent, wrapping firmly around his length as he strokes himself in a slow, unhurried rhythm.

The motion is mesmerizing, almost practiced—his grip tightening subtly at the base before sliding upward, then loosening as his hand glides back down. His fingers flex with precision, coaxing soft, breathy moans from his lips, barely audible but enough to make your skin prickle.

He shifts in his chair, angling himself slightly toward the camera, his movements smooth and calculated. His legs are spread comfortably apart, the outline of his frame illuminated by the soft glow of the monitor. The confidence in his actions is undeniable, as if he’s done this countless times before, every motion intentional and deliberate for the audience he can’t see but knows is watching.

Your heart pounds harder when his strokes pick up pace briefly, then slow again, teasing, calculated. His chest rises and falls in measured breaths, and every now and then, a low groan escapes, richer and deeper than the softer sounds he’s been making.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Jin murmurs suddenly, his tone smooth and teasing, almost playful. You jump up slightly from the sudden spoken words. His strokes grow a fraction faster, his hand tightening briefly before loosening again. “Bet you’ve been waiting all day for this.”

The faint click of his mouse follows, likely scrolling through the flood of comments. A soft chuckle escapes his lips, and he tilts his head as if he’s reading something amusing.

“Oh, you want me to go slower?” he says, his voice dropping a notch, rich and deliberate. His movements follow suit, his hand sliding torturously slow along his length, eliciting a low groan from deep in his chest. “Patience. You’ll get what you’re asking for. Just keep watching.”

He shifts in his chair, leaning back slightly, his free hand brushing over his thigh. “Such a needy audience tonight,” he adds with a smirk, his tone dripping with mock indulgence. “But I guess I can’t blame you. You love it when I take my time, don’t you?”

Your breath catches as you hear the faintest hitch in his voice, a sign that even he isn’t immune to his own ministrations. “Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs, his strokes quickening again as his chest rises and falls in heavier breaths. “Keep telling me what you want. I can’t get enough of it.”

The chat on his screen is moving so quickly it’s impossible to follow, but he clearly can. His responses are measured, tailored, and completely immersed in the moment.

“You’re spoiling me tonight,” he says with a breathy laugh, likely reacting to a particularly generous tip or comment. His hand slows again, teasing, his thumb brushing over the tip of his length in a way that draws a soft, shuddering groan from his lips. “Guess I should return the favor, huh?”

His voice lowers further, almost a whisper, intimate in a way that makes your heart pound. “Let me know how much you’re enjoying this,” he says, his words melting into another low moan. “Because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Your pulse races as you watch him lean back slightly, adjusting his position to maintain his pace, his focus entirely on the screen and the comments it displays. The intimacy of the scene feels almost overwhelming, and it’s enough to snap you out of your trance.

You step back, your breath hitching as you force yourself to retreat. Whatever this is, you weren’t meant to see it! 

And yet the image is burned into your mind as you close your door, your thoughts swirling in a storm of confusion, embarrassment, and curiosity.

Oh my fucking god… 

The soft click of the mouse breaks you from your trance, and you realize you’ve been standing there far too long. Before Jin can notice anything amiss, you step away from his side of the apartment as quietly as possible,  your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

You retreat down the hall to your room, shutting the door behind you with trembling hands. Leaning against it, you try to catch your breath, your mind racing. Jin, your childhood rival and now your new roommate, is apparently living a double life you never could have anticipated.

Never mind.

This new life that you’re living, will not be easy at all.

-

-

-

a/n: happy thanksgiving!! this is another very short series i plan to make with around 3-5 chapters. i'll keep brainstorming and slowly writing this along with my a(myg)dala fic series... but this is very brainrot not too heavy focus on plot so i probably won't take long to continue it compared to the other series hehe!! thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[moose-goosey]

I thought Okuu would make a good Guilty Gear character (aside from having a stone leg and gun arm on the exact wrong side of her body, and also having wings)

[silencesscreams]

"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii

sad beautiful tragic

james potter x fem reader (angst)

a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them

warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”

you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.

he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.

sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.

during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.

until he kissed you.

it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.

“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.

one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.

“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.

“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.

“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.

when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.

sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.

it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.

he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.

the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.

but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.

your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.

life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.

christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?

when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.

a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.

once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:

“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.

on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.

when you sat at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.

after taking a bite from your dessert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.

as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.

“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.

“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.

he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.

“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.

“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.

“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.

“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.

“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to, i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.

“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.

“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?

“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.

“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.

“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.

“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.

“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming

“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.

“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”

“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.

“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.

“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?

you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.

“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.

“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.

“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.

it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[majoryeager104]

Meet-Cute part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pro Hero! Touya X Gn!Reader

Summary: Pro hero Touya Todoroki finds a new favorite cafe

Touya now visits your cafe just about every day- same time, 8:00 AM sharp, whether he has to go out of his way or not. It’s become routine for the both of you to lose track of time in your little conversations while you make his usual order, too engrossed in each others presence to notice the minutes tick by, and before you know it, he’s rushing out the door again.

To Touya, your little corner cafe was like his own little secret, his hiding spot when he needed some semblance of peace, a place where he could slow down. He was yet to figure out if you knew who he was, but to be honest, at this point he didn’t really care whether you did or not, because you treated him like a friend, like an actual person. It was refreshing, compared to the constant harassment and prodding from every other corner of his life.

But to you, his presence in your little cafe was suffocating, but in the best way. You’d done a decent job of treating him like every other customer, because you didn’t want to scare him off. The way his fingers brushed yours when you gave him his coffee, the way his eyes lingered a little longer than they should’ve on you and you alone.

It was so difficult not to fluster under his little remarks, and yet he played it all off so casually. The number two hero, and your cafe was his favorite. Needless to say, your cafe got a little busy after he started coming as a regularly to visit you. But Touya paid the extra buzz of noise no mind. He’d smile, and take pictures, and then slip past the crowds and right inside, and from then on his attention is on you.

“Hey Y/n!” He grinned, slipping in through the door, hearing the familiar, cheery bell over the bustle of crowds outside. You looked up, smiling back “Hey Touya! Your usual?” “Yes please, Lovely” he grinned, walking up to the counter, the pet name rolling off his tongue. With how he said it, you’d think he’d said it before, but he hadn’t, and so the little title hit your ears with a shock. You nodded, turning to sheepishly begin his order.

But Touya most definitely caught your reaction, a lopsided grin forming on his face at you- finally, he’d gotten you to blush. It was like a mission of his for weeks now, and he’d finally managed it. Flirting, compliments, nothing pulled your reaction but that title. It was peculiar to him, but at the same time adorable, that such a simple nickname would be what earned him your blush. Lovely. He wasn’t lying, to him you were precisely that.

“So, lovely…” he leaned on the counter, grinning as he watched your usually relaxed shoulders tense once more- his efforts were rewarded. “Yes?” You glanced back at him, and he couldn’t help but laugh a bit under his breath at you and your rosy cheeks as you smiled at him. Yep, lovely described you perfectly. “…are you…” he trailed off, your eyes fully on him now as he struggled to find his words.

It was like as soon as you gave him your full attention, he’d lose all knowledge of what to do with it- tongue tied, for once in his life. He took a sharp intake of breath, his words coming out fast, and blurted.

“are you single?” He inwardly winced at his own blunt question, glancing away as your eyes widened slightly- he’d never felt so insecure, and yet so confident in something in his life. It was a weird experience, knowing for certain you want to be with someone, and yet being so uncertain of whether or not they felt the same.

At the same time, while his heart and mind raced in unison, your soft laugh filled his ears, bringing his eyes back up to yours, meeting you and that big smile of yours, something he couldn’t help but blush at himself. You took your own deep breath, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I am.”

Touya sighed in something close to relief, but more like awe, because how? He shook away the longing thoughts, putting on another smile to hide his blush as he leaned closer on the counter. Maybe just one more flirty comment would do the trick.

“can I change that?”

It’s the way I was listening to this on repeat while writing lmao @bitchyfestivalbouquet 🫶🫶🫶

[lipglossanon]

White Noise

Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

For gumie and 🪷 anon (thanks for your patience if you’re still hanging around 💜)

And a big Happy Birthday to 🐶 anon! 🎉

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, stepcest kink, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, consensual dubcon, somnophilia, teasing, offscreen oral (f receiving) 😆, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✍️

title from White Noise by Badflower

The last time Leon mentioned waking you up with his cock buried inside your needy cunt, you came so hard you saw stars. It’s been plaguing your thoughts and every morning you wake up without proof of Leon filling you the night before, you get a little disappointed. It keeps eating away at you bit by bit til you feel you can’t take anymore. 

Leon knows it’s bothering you, that you’re excited for him to sneak into your room while you’re asleep and make you cum on his fingers or mouth or cock. He teases you relentlessly with the possibility that tonight’s the night although it never truly is much to your detriment.

This goes on for far too long in your opinion so tonight’s routine is just like any other; you shower, do your skincare, and scroll online for a few before finally calling it a night. Your dreams are warm and wet and filled with heat. Unable to really nail down what kind of dream it is, you can feel your consciousness rising to the surface. 

“Fuck, so tight,” Leon groans low in his throat, hips slowly rutting in and out of your obscenely wet cunt, “little pussy just needed big brother’s cock so badly.”

Your eyes flutter as you slowly interpret his words through your sleep-addled brain. His hands grip your hips to keep you pressed down against your bed as he slowly fucks his thick cock in and out of your dripping hole.

You hum, hands twitching as you try to fully wake up. 

“God, so fucking good,” he moans, grinding against your pussy before pulling halfway out to sink back in again, “should’ve done this way sooner.”

You feel hot wet suction around your nipple, registering that you’re totally naked as Leon bites across to your other breast to suck marks around the areola. Whining in pleasure, your hips roll against his while Leon’s mouth bites your nipple before sucking it softly. 

“You awake, baby sis?” He mouths against your sternum, teeth scraping against the soft peaks of your breasts, “can you feel how deep my cock is fucking this slutty pussy?”

With a harsh thrust that jostles your body, your eyes blearily take in Leon boxing you in as he humps his cock deeper into your clenching heat. A long low whine slips past your lips as Leon bites your nipple roughly. Your body feels sore already. 

“Been teasing you all night,” he laughs, low and deep, making your pussy clamp down tight around his fat dick, “y’like that? Ate this pretty pussy out for hours after I sucked on these cute swollen nipples.”

“Leon!” You gasp hotly, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He grunts and fucks you slow and deep, cock barely leaving your tight hole before he slides back in. 

“God, nearly creamed your cute hole, baby sis,” he coos mockingly down at you, clit throbbing as he grinds his pelvis against it, “you’re so warm and tight for me— hot little pussy just made for my dick.” 

You shudder underneath him, eyes rolling back as he grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your inner walls. 

“Do you want to hear more?” He sucks on your bottom lip, the blue of his eyes a faint ring around his pupils. 

“Uh huh, please,” you chase after his mouth but he pulls away with a sly smile. 

“You’re a pretty heavy sleeper, didn’t even twitch when I slid all of your clothes off and spread your legs,” he chuckles, “and then I just couldn’t help but kiss every single part of you I could.”

Panting, your hands drift from his shoulders to his arms, “Big brother, please.”

The muscle in his jaw feathers as he roughly snaps his hips forward, bullying his cock into your pussy. 

“Then I fucked your thighs while I licked and sucked your tits, biting those cute nipples til you were soaking my cock,” he moves one hand up to quickly pinch and tug your stiff peaks, “and once you’re hot pussy was nice and wet, I decided to kiss and lick her, too.”

You feel slick gush out around his cock as his words drive your arousal higher and higher, the band in your abdomen growing tight as your orgasm ramps up.

He laughs at you, “So, of course I kissed my favorite girl,” his hands moved to press your hips down against the bed so he can drill his dick even deeper into your spasming cunt. 

“Ngh, big brother, w’nna cum,” you slur out, sleep still making your limbs feel heavy as your legs tremble. 

“Not yet,” he chuckles, eyes dark and mean, “gonna play with your sweet fucking cunt all night. Why don’t you just go back to sleep, hmm? Let me use you like a fleshlight.”

You cry out as your orgasm surprises you both, pussy fluttering and milking Leon as he stills inside of you. His cock flexes and throbs making you whimper and scratch at his biceps while you cum around his thick length. 

“Fuck me,” he hisses, hands hot and heavy as they grip your hips tight enough to bruise, “did you just fucking cum? What a slut.” 

His fingers dip down to rub against your swollen clit. You buck against him at feeling too much against your sensitive bud. 

“Gonna use you all the time, y’know that right?” He whispers against the shell of your ear as he rolls his hips against yours, cock gliding in and out of your squelching pussy, “next time, I’ll make you guess how many times I creampie this sweet little hole before you even wake up.”

Your back bows off of the bed with a mewling whine and he growls. 

“God, ���m so fucking lucky,” he kisses you, tongue pressing greedily past your lips. 

“Big brother,” you whimper dazedly. 

“Got the sluttiest sister,” his voice drips like poisoned honey in your ears, “needs her sweet little cunt stuffed with my cum. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make sure to fill this pretty princess pussy with my fat cock as much as possible.”

Your body feels wrecked in the best possible way as he continues to fuck you into your mattress. The sounds of someone going downstairs makes Leon pause, cock snugly buried inside your dripping heat. 

“Sounds like dad’s awake,” he grins down at you, “guess we’ll need to be extra careful.”

Your cunt pulses around him and his grin widens. 

“Oh? Trying to get caught? Hmm what a bad girl,” he simpers condescendingly, “maybe I shouldn’t breed your hot cunt cause I know you can’t keep your slutty mouth shut.”

“Please, please,” you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair as you rock your hips against his, “I’ll be quiet. I’ll be good, I swear. Please, Leon. Don’t stop.”

He groans, humping your pussy with deep strokes, “Won’t stop, princess. Fuck, don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“Please, Leon—big brother,” your head grinds back onto your pillow case, “g’nna cum again.”

“Fucking hell,” he hisses, roughly circling his thumb on your clit as he grinds into your pussy. 

He kisses you right as his fingers pinch your pudgy bud, making your hips cant forward as pleasure washes over your body. Your walls pulse and cling to his dick making Leon groan and snap his hips into you harder. 

“So good, so fucking good f’me,” he groans, burying his cock deep inside your spasming cunt and cumming, hot thick jizz coating your walls. 

You sigh when slowly pulls out, Leon hissing at the sensation. He lays down next to you, tugging you until you can tuck your head under his chin. He shifts back just enough to kiss you softly, nipping your bottom lip as he pulls away. 

“You good?” He murmurs in the quiet between you. 

He tugs on a strand of your hair before sweeping his palm across your neck and down your back. 

“Mm hmm, tired now,” you fight back a yawn but lose, jaw cracking and eyes watering as Leon laughs. 

You giggle and snuggle in closer to him, body buzzing in the afterglow. Humming, he drops a  kiss to the top of your head as both relax into each other, drifting to sleep in the early morning rays. 

[brisquad-unit-4402]

vanvan bans a man

i had so much fun with that title. you know what else is fun? the jealous vanta kick i’m on atm. i’ve got another possessive vanta fic in the works and really fighting the urge to post jealous krisis (polykrisis even⁉️)

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, protective vanta, reader has a shitty ex-boyfriend, jealousy, vanta calls you "mine" and other subtle possessive dialogue, unspecified what your ex has done in the past, the boys are fightinggggggg

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Unfortunately, a vibrating phone is what wakes you up today. Which is really quite a bummer; you’re used to waking up on your own time in Vanta’s arms, or when he’s the first to rise and you can feel the mattress shift as he gets up.

The phone vibrates again, and you’re inclined to shut your eyes tight and let the text go unanswered, at least until you wake up proper. At the third buzz your mind connects the dots. It’s a call.

Your closed eyes sting as you rub them, then grab the phone with the other hand. The taste of sleepy breath cracks along your tongue as you mumble, “Hello?”

On the other end, you can hear shuffling and slinking, some ambient picture that you don’t have the sense to imagine right now. “Oh, you picked up.”

Your blood runs cold.

Oh, you recognize that voice. You recognize it damn well, no matter how hard you wished you wouldn’t hear it again. You told your ex in no uncertain terms to never contact you again last time you saw his face. He was lucky you couldn’t muster up the courage to curse him out as you broke it off.

Yet here you are, laying in bed at a weak hour. The screen, even in dark mode, singes your sights as you read the current time: 1:19 AM on a weekend night.

“Hey, Reader,” your ex continues, as if he didn’t know his voice was knives under your skin, needling you until something cracked open. “How’s it going?”

“Why are you calling me?” You ask faintly.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says.

You blink, the sleep in your eyes making way for shock. As it subsided, you could feel it growing into a nasty pool of anxiety in your throat. The sheets around you crinkle and shuffle as you repeat, “Why?”

“I dunno, sometimes I just wonder what you’re up to,” your ex drawls. He speaks like a long smoke, cigarette ash dusting his way-too-carefree tongue. “But if you really want to know, I got something to tell you.”

No, no, no. You know where this is going. A thousand rejections rumble up, but your lips are shut, stapled in place by your nerves. The world around you keeps moving while you’re frozen.

“I guess I should continue?” He chuckles for a moment. Smarmy. Incorrigible. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, more than usual. That means there’s something there, right? And I’m not ready to let go of it yet.”

You hear your name but this feels like a trap.

“We should try again,” you ex suggests. You can hear the smile in his voice, the way one corner of his lip curls before the other and the confident eyes. That was charming—until you got used to seeing the damn smirk whenever you apologized for something he should’ve owned up to himself. He’s a master at getting what he wants while casting you off to the side.

You hear your name being called again as you get lost in your haze. “Reader,” Vanta murmurs. He turns to you, looping his sleepy hands around your waist. “Who’re you calling? Tell them I said hello.”

The other line shuffles for a moment. “You’re still with him?”

“Are they talking about me?” Vanta yawns. “Hello.”

Great. Now you’re stuck between two men that care for you: the one that broke your heart time and time again, and a tired tyrant spooning you as he wakes up. At least Vanta’s gentle grasp is grounding you while you can feel your thoughts spiral.

The ex hesitates. “I didn’t think he’d last long,” he says aloud.

“Hey,” Vanta sets his chin on your shoulder. He pouts, ready to whine, but then he glances at the phone screen and the contact name. “Wait, is that…?”

“So you must be the boyfriend.”

“Yeah, this is he. Give me the phone, Reader.”

Passing it off feels like a burden.

Vanta rolls onto his back, but keeps an arm by your waist. You place your hand on his, hoping that the veins and knuckles soothe you as you rub them.

Ex-Boyfriend starts. “Well, I don’t—“

“What the hell is your problem calling at ass o’clock in the morning to harass Reader,” Current Boyfriend snaps. A switch flipped. Usually when he's groggy, his low voice is soothing, but now the rumble of interrupted rest makes his voice growl, dangerous and menacing. "Should I even ask why you thought this was a good idea? The fuck did you think was going to happen? If Reader said you're done, then you're done. You're cooked. Golden brown, deep-fried, burnt to a crisp, cooked. You’re done."

"I don't need your permission to talk to Reader."

"L-O-L? Yes, you do?" Vanta says, so baffled his jaw drops. "If you're going to hit on my partner, I have a right to tell you to eat shit. Not to mention how weird you were in the past, and how weird you are now. Like, if you really cared for Reader you'd delete this number and go on with your life instead of calling like a creep at one in the morning!"

"Fuck off, it was important."

"You fuck off! What's important is that you leave Reader the hell alone.” Vanta practically spits as he hisses at the man on the line, even though his volume is barely below his usual speaking voice. Underneath your grasp, his hand tightens around your waist. The seam of your shirt curls as he pulls you close. “You try that shit again and I’ll tear you apart. Reader’s mine, not yours. Got it?”

He doesn’t even wait for the ex to respond before continuing. “Glad to hear it. Goodnight.” Vanta hangs up without a second thought. You watch the phone’s light illuminate his face as the screen returns to normal, casting a pale glow around his nose and his furrowed brows. “Bitch,” he adds, still frowning at the screen.

Purple eyes glance at you. At the contact, he sighs, placing your phone down so he can wrap both of his arms around you properly. He rests his hand along the back of your neck, thumbing along the soft skin and setting his forehead along yours, eyes now downcast.

“Sorry,” he says, far gentler than when he was on the phone. “I wish you didn’t have to hear any of that.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s just the way that he was talking about you, and your history with him was pissing me off. I just couldn’t hold back. I’m—“

“Thank you,” you choke out.

“—Really sorry,” Vanta says at the same time. “Wait, huh?”

But you don’t even respond. Instead you bury yourself into your partner’s chest, trying to control your breathing. You’re overwhelmed with anxiousness but at least Vanta’s shirt smells like him.

His palm goes from your neck down to your back, rubbing circles as you try to calm yourself. Vanta mumbles. It’s muffled through his shirt and arms around you, but you’d assume it’s consoling. His throat hums and vibrates along your temple in soothing rhythms as he speaks.

Now that the emotional overload is dwindling, your grip tightens around him like you’re holding a stress ball. You murmur. “I really didn’t want to talk to him.”

Vanta’s heart breaks at that admission. You feel him readjust his position and hear the telltale pulse of a kiss at the top of your head. “You don’t have to,” he says. “He’s not worth it.

“Makes me sick thinking that some people are so entitled that they can just hurt you and act like nothing happened,” Vanta continues. “You deserve to be treated like royalty, and you deserve better than him. Screw him.”

Your boyfriend pats your back as you recompose yourself. You bitterly cast a glance at the phone, still resting face-down from the call earlier. “I’m sorry you had to take care of it.”

“Don’t feel bad. That’s the bare minimum.” He kisses you again on your forehead. “You just rest, it’s late for you.”

“It’s late for you, too, Vanta.”

“I’ll manage.” He grins. “Gotta protect my baby somehow.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[cloud-makers-make-pollution]

I mean I realise that I probably should’ve done an intro ages ago seeing as I’ve been active for months but hey Ho hERE WE GO

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

hi!

so

I’m a minor

I’m queer

I’m pro Palestinian

and if you’ve got a problem with that, with all due respect, fuck off.

I HAVE AN INSTA NOW LOOK

I aim to type in all lowercase or some weird combination of lower and upper case but I rarely use capital letters at the start of words, I don’t know why, it just seems aesthetically pleasing.

uhm

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

✨ interests✨

Musicals, especially Les Mis and Moulin Rouge, Hamilton and Six are awesome too

music? I suppose? it depends what’s happening with it

bothering the fuck out of my friends

being as gay as I possibly can

simping over people cause I can and cause they’re sO ATTRACTIVE LIKE WHAT WHO ALLOWED THEM TO BE LIKE THIS

les mis

enjolras, specifically.

more specifically, modern au enjoltaire fanfiction it’s beautiful and the epitome of perfection

marauders

cats. I love cats.

did I mention les mis

languages? I’m learning French and german in school, and according to my teachers I’m good at it, which I’m not so sure about, and I learn Swedish on duolingo

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

✨music✨

I mean my music taste moves around a lot but some of it is Madilyn Mei, EPIC the musical, musicals in general, Chappell Roan is cool, Leanna Firestone, but other than that it jumps around a bit

I do play instruments but I’m not too good at them I’ve managed to get to grade 7 on one of them and I think I died during the preparation for the exam and now I’m being slowly dragged up from hell it’s not fun

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

✨bOOKS✨

I love reading, and I used to read loads but something happened and I don’t read too much anymore which is quite sad but some of my favourite books/series are:

AGGGTM - Holly Jackson

The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins

Harry Potter - that one blonde bitch who abuses her power constantly

Powerless - Lauren Roberts

Gwen and Art are not in love - Lex Croucher

Heartstopper - Alice Oseman

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

there more but I can’t remember, which probably isn’t great, and there were some gay books that I read for the gay but I can’t remember their titles or authors which is awesome but they were great

I mean just generally, I tend to be very opinionated and can go on about something for ages, maybe because I have a lot to say, or maybe because it takes me way too long to get to the point

If you’re a pedophile or a groomer or any of those other horrible things or discriminatory in any way whatsoever please stay away from me thank you kindly

I think that’s it I’m not sure

oh I really like making friends but I suck at doing it because according to my friend I have the “crippling inability to have a conversation” and I also have zero social skills and tend to not like people but making friends is great

most of my posts are either a lot of reblogs, having conversations with my mutuals, or les mis stuff that I thought was funny in the moment.

people who should be mentioned cause they’re great:

@unhingedyetstillhere this is Leyla she’s mentally disturbed and one of the gayest kids I’ve ever seen she’s also one of my kids but I have way too many of those

@noahher this is Noah Noah is great we have many conversations and he gave me a pet ferret that I have forgotten the name of I should go find that

(edit) i fOUND IT HIS NAME IS FREDDIE

@k-is-for-potassium I just met them but damn they’re awesome

@forever-bi-panic also just met but they’re so cool and really nice and goes hand in hand with @nu-get who’s also exceedingly awesome

@im-a-skeleton-in-your-closet is up here too, they’re great and they send asks that make me happy :D

@bleep-bloop-boo FELLOW MADILYN MEI ENTHUSIAST IS COMPLETELY AWESOME

@feernflower I tag them in every tag thing I get even though I’ve never interacted with them properly (I’m sorry you seem so cool) and they’re a marauders fan who posts cool stuff go look at it

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes HELLO this is my sister she’s great and her blog is cool (I’m in your walls)

@ladymoonstardust aux armies!!! vive les gays!!! the revolution must begin!!!!! exceedingly cool les mis person, and with whom one hath a number of enlightening conversation, more often than not to do with the wonderful beings in that one musical about the land of croissant

@sing-me-sweetly-to-my-doom 🫵🫢🫵😮🫢😮

tis my best friend irl <3

thanks for being here!

and as always, free Palestine

<3

[noforkingclue]

Hey, I hope you're having a great day. If it's alright (and if I haven't done so already. I don't think i have but i can't remember) request and Indiana jones x reader which involves the following dialogue "Why don't YOU translate and I'll wave the gun around"

Yeah I'm doing well! I have the week off work so I'm going to be chilling, writing and catching up on some of my crafting projects. Hope you're doing well :D

Title: Shots

“Fucking hell,” you shouted over the hail of bullets, “I thought you said that you had dealt with them.”

“I had,” snapped back Indy, “and don’t swear.”

“Why? Because ladies shouldn’t swear.”

“No,” Indy gritted his teeth and reloaded his gun, “because I want you to stop talking and focus on translating.”

You just rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the inscriptions. Damn Indy for turning up on your doorstep late at night. He had another mad idea and just had to drag you along. You knew you should’ve said no. Things always ended badly when you and Indy went adventuring together. Either the two of you getting shot at or ending up in bed together.

And after last time you swore the latter would never happen again.

Which only left being shot at.

“How much longer are you going to be?” shouted Indy

“Why? Running out of bullets?”

When Indy didn’t give you a smart-arse response you looked over at him incredulously.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you said

Immediately Indy was by your side. He jabbed you in the chest and you sat down on the ground and leant against the wall.

“Keep your voice down,” he said, “or do you want them to know about their advantage?”

“Tell you what, Doctor Jones,” you hissed, “why don’t you translate and I’ll wave the gun around? You never know, I might end up hitting something.”

“Someone,” snapped back Indy, “you think you can have someone’s death on your hands?”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re only Nazis.”

Indy didn’t respond and you smirked knowing you had won. Indy fired another shot and you winced as you heard another body hit the floor.

“How much longer?” he asked

You flinched as a bullet grazed your cheek and hit the wall. You cursed and ran a finger over the chipped wall.

“I got the general gist of it.”

“General gist isn’t good enough.”

“Well it’s all you're going to get! It might’ve been a bit more complete if someone hadn’t managed to get the wall shot up!”

“Not my fault.”

“Well it usually is. Now then, how are we going to get out?”

“Come on darlin’, have I ever let you down before?”

Yes in this moment you hated Indiana Jones but at the same time you couldn’t help but smile. You could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Yes, you had missed this. You had missed the excitement and the thrill or find new objects.

The thrill of the chase and of being chased.

The thrill of new discoveries.

The thrill of being with Indy.

Indy raised a hand and brushed your cheek with his thumb. You let out a hiss of pain and he grimaced when he saw the blood.

“It’s just a graze,” you said, “I’ve had worse. You should know that.”

“Shouldn’t have let that happen.”

Indy cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss against your forehead. You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes. Indy reached behind you and at first you thought he was going to hug you. However, instead he reached behind you and pressed a panel on the wall. You looked sharply behind you as part of the wall slid away.

“How long did you know that was there?” you asked

“Well…”

Indy trailed off and smirked at you. You glared and slapped him on the arm.

“You jerk! I’m going to kill you!”

“I’d rather you kiss me.”

“Maybe if we survive.”

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 8: 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐗

title: let it sink in synopsis: the fight was over, the war was done, but the tension was still there. watching the princess falling victim of her own mind, the navigator has to intervene. [1K] cw: established relationship, insecurity, a bit of hurt and a lot of comfort, this isn't sex it's love okay i'm sensitive about them, shower sex, masturbation.

PREV POST ✰ NEXT POST

The bathroom smelled like tangerines and honey. Hot water melted the layers of dirty, washing away sweat and tears. It was over. It was really, finally over.

Rubbing Vivi’s back, a scent of iron invaded their little bubble of peacefulness. Nami looked down at the bath, just now seeing how rosy the water surrounding them both was. Only then she was reminded of how much blood she lost. Of how much blood the two of them lost.

Sore muscles. Mind tired from all the screaming and crying. Open, bleeding wounds. It was over, finally, but that didn’t mean it all simply stopped hurting. And if her shot feet is enough to make Nami tremble, then she can’t even imagine all the things going through Vivi’s head.

The bathroom smelled like tangerines, honey, and blood.

“You can breathe now”, Nami whispered. She filled her hands with bubbles, placing them on top of Vivi’s shoulder. “You did it. Vivi, you really did it.”

“We”, she said. Vivi played with her fingers, trying to not get lost inside her own head. It was a very crowded place right now, and not kind in the slightest. “I never would’ve done it without you. Without all of you.”

Sweet words, but Nami noticed how off they felt. Their meaning was genuine, she knows Vivi well enough to understand that, but it sounded more like an echo of anyone would expect her to say than what she is actually thinking about. Nami is familiar with lies imbued with truths.

She gets it. Nami really does. Nami knows good things don’t always feel good. Sometimes they hurt for a long time. But Vivi… She doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve to wait until happiness finds her. Vivi is good, she’s kind, and she had enough of pain for a lifetime.

Nami thought a bath would help. At least, it helps her when her mind is a cruel place. Hot water takes care of the body, expelling the tiredness away, and the rest treats the mind. Oils and creams, shampoos and soaps, masks and exfoliants. After a time, muscle memory is all that remains. Not a thought, not a worry, just something new to rub on your skin.

It isn’t working on Vivi.

Calloused hands grabbed her soft hips, fingers moving in circles against her tender skin. Everything about Vivi is so delicate. “You’re thinking loudly”, Nami murmured. “I don’t like this. Not knowing how to make you happier.”

That made Vivi laugh. Nami assumed it was a good thing, although she couldn’t quite understand why Vivi would react like that. Vivi leaned onto her, head fitting in the crook of Nami’s neck. She inhaled deeply.

“Don’t mock me, princess.” Nami pinched the soft thigh. That only made Vivi laugh more. “Here I am, pouring my heart for you. Should’ve robbed you when I had the chance.”

Vivi only rolled her eyes. She took Nami’s hand in between hers, stroking the scar on it. She kissed the raw knuckles, unaffected by the blood on it. If anything, she was grateful Nami would fight for her dreams and hopes. But then again, knowing the navigator, Vivi knew it was the only thing Nami would’ve done.

Somehow, and that still surprises her, Nami cares.

 “You don’t know how to make me happier?” Vivi sighed. How truly stupid Nami has to be in order to not see she’s the only thing between Vivi and a violent sob? “Just by being near me, darling Nami, I turn into the happiest woman this country ever saw.”

“You are so…” Nami giggled, face heating up. The tip of her ears burned. “Darling Nami? Is that so?”

Vivi only nodded.

For a moment, Nami hesitated. There was something she wanted to say, something that maybe she shouldn’t. Fuck it, Nami thought. I faced scarier things that a princess. Still, she hesitated.

“I had no hope for my life”, Nami whispered. There was no need to, they were alone and so close, but that’s something one simply does when sharing a secret. “But now… Every time I look around, all I see is people I care about. People I love. I care about you, darling Vivi. I love you.”

It was Vivi’s time to giggle. Her smile was so big, so genuine, her entire face burned. “My cheeks will fall apart”, she tried to cover her face, but Nami held her hands in place. “I never thought you would be so sweet.”

“And I never thought you would be so furious. We both are full of surprises.”

Vivi kissed the crook of Nami’s neck. Little pecks, sweet just like her. Nami massaged her waist, using the right amount of strength to undo all those knots.

“Are you tired?” Vivi asked, voice lower.

“Exhausted”, Nami sighed. Her fingers moved to Vivi’s thighs, caressing them gently. “I guess we feel the same way.”

Leaving open mouth kisses on her shoulder, Vivi whimpered as those skilled fingers touched her lips. It was a weird position, her arm contorted in an uncomfortable angle, but she managed to draw circles around Nami’s clit.

There wasn’t a need to rush. There wasn’t a goal they both needed to seek after. At that moment, Nami and Vivi simply needed to be together. As close as possible.

“Thank you”, Vivi whispered. With two long fingers inside of her, a sob escaped her throat. “For being born. This world would be a boring place without you.”

Nami kissed her. She wanted to kiss Vivi, she needed to kiss Vivi, but the main reason she did so was because Nami couldn’t figure out something to say.

Hearing those sensitive whimpers, feeling as Vivi turned limp against her hand, she felt whole. “Princess”, Nami called. She rubbed her nose against the blue hair, legs trembling underwater.

Vivi smiled. “Pirate.”

Embracing one another, it was really, finally over.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm

© all rights reserved to MADWOMANSAPOLOGIST

[kuzann]

To the Brink and Back

Been having too many thoughts about this ship and wanted to share this cause it made me smile while writing it and one specific part also made me giggle quite a bit. Still technically WIP cause I'm writing a part before this, but it looks nice enough to post I think. Also plays with some ideas about the ex-Self-Annihilator Sampo theory. 5.3k words, the title is a placeholder for now.

~~~

It was always a joy to travel the cosmos, but he should’ve been paying more attention to what was going on back home. Shouldn’t have wandered so far. Then he would’ve gotten the panicked messages in time. Would’ve been able to do something about it before things got to this point.

But now, it was far too late.

The bitter wind of the Snow Plains dug long vicious claws into Sampo’s back as he watched his adversary. They’d been playing cat and mouse for a little over an hour now, and any attempts at negotiation had failed. He could still escape if he felt like it, the canyon walls were no obstacle for him, but there was someone here that he couldn’t leave behind.

Gepard had not been himself for over a week. It started with bursts of impulsive behavior, then a series of measures toward ‘the protection of Belobog’ that became ever more draconian. Any attempts the authorities made at containing him had failed, but thankfully the moment Sampo set foot in Belobog again Gepard had made it his mission to catch him. Sampo had led him out into the Snow Plains to avoid collateral damage if something went wrong.

Now Gepard pulled himself upright with his shield as if tugged by invisible strings and lifted his head to glare at Sampo. There was a hunger in his eyes, like a desperate beast eying the single prey item on offer for miles around. And the hope that after this catch that hunger would be sated. But there was no salvation down that road.

Sampo had only needed a single glimpse of the sickly teal flames that flickered around Gepard’s body to know what had gone wrong. He’d had his suspicions upon hearing what happened, and sent a few messages to the Trailblazer in the hopes that they might bring someone from the Loufu to handle this. But they were far out of reach at the moment, and any help from the Loufu would take too long to arrive by conventional means.

Gepard shambled a little closer, his shield leaving a long, deep line in the snow. Sampo tensed, blades at the ready, and watched for tells of the coming attack. But instead Gepard stopped and pulled himself upright again, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he did so. “You smell interesting,” the thing wearing Gepard’s body said, the distinctive double voice of heliobus possession echoing through their voice. So Sampo had managed to catch its interest beyond the typical goal acquisition for its host. “How fortunate, I’ll have you next.”

Sampo jumped away as the wave of ice surged toward his feet. He landed on the snow just beyond it, his gaze fixed on the heliobus. A nauseous lump settled in the pit of his stomach as he straightened again—the heliobus would consume its current host entirely once it was ready to take a new one. They didn’t have much time left, and the only option available was one that Sampo might not walk away from.

The heliobus blinked with confusion; Sampo had seen beyond the illusion that concealed the ice. They recovered quickly, probably assuming it was a fluke, and prepared another trap for him.

But Sampo was willing to take the risk; he’d done this before and survived, and Belobog still needed Gepard. Sampo took a deep breath to steady himself, and stepped into the Shadow.

~~~

The heliobus scrambled to keep their host on his feet as the landscape tore away like an old curtain, blinding white snow snapping to abyssal starscape. Their host staggered without the shield to help stabilize him and fell to his knees. The ground was strange, a vast dark lake that stretched endlessly in all directions save for one.

A black hole waited ahead, ready to pull their energy into its endless hungry abyss. Heliobi bragged about being deathless, but a black hole could very well be the only thing able to prove them wrong. And they did not want to find out the truth themselves.

They dragged their host to his feet and turned away from the black hole, searching for any means of escape, and found themselves face to face with a pale figure. The heliobus jumped back, instinctively flinging an illusion at this new enemy, but the darkness devoured it as soon as it left their body and begged for more.

The pale figure gave them a condescending smile, and they realized that this was the human they had intended to possess next, bleached of all color save for a few streaks of red in his hair and his eyes.

Ignoring his attempts at negotiation had been a mistake.

“You know what word I’m thinking about right now?” the man—Sampo, the host’s memories offered—said as he kept pace with the heliobus’s backpedaling. His tone was one of idle conversation, as if they were enjoying a few drinks at a tavern rather than treading on the edge of the abyss. “Entropy. It’s an interesting concept, and it means different things depending on the type of person you ask.”

“Wait, stay back!” The heliobus brought an arm up to ward him off, for what little good it would do.

“The arrow of time, disorder, irreversibility... But I think the most fitting one right now is the flow of heat. The way it bleeds out until the temperature is equalized.”

“Please!” the heliobus begged, allowing Gepard’s voice to take over entirely. “Please don’t kill me!”

Sampo’s gaze sharpened, not that of a predator seeking prey but of a vengeful man preparing to take justice into his own hands. A far more terrifying prospect by far. “Heat’s just another word for energy, right? And that’s what you’re made of.” He lifted one of his blades, its edge glowing with a dull red light. “I wonder how long it’ll take for you to bleed away into nothing.”

The heliobus didn’t see him move, but they felt the blade. It slid into the infinitely narrow separation between them and their host, cold and hungry and sharp.

With a deft flick of his blade Sampo peeled the heliobus away from Gepard’s body, freeing him of its influence at last. The next movement was far more vicious, a slash that hewed the baleful fire in two and sealed its fate.

~~~

Gepard swam back to consciousness, finally free from the sea of teal fire that sought to drown him. He’d come to rest on his knees, and even that much was a miracle in his condition—every part of his body ached as if he’d been on his feet and fighting for several days straight.

A few foggy memories drifted back to him, of how he’d been driven to continue without sleep, the belief that he didn’t need it. He lifted a hand to his face and tried to get his bearings. It was so dark, completely unlike anything he’d experienced in Belobog, and this terrible hollow cold that clawed at body and mind...

How had he ended up here?

Someone sighed with relief just ahead of him. “Good, it worked.”

Gepard tried to raise his head to look at whoever was speaking, but only managed a small twitch. The exhaustion weighed too heavily on him.

“It’s going to be okay. I’ll lead you back,” the voice said. It was familiar, but Gepard’s memories were so scattered that he couldn’t place it. “Here, take my hand. Just keep walking and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

A stark white hand moved into his view, palm up and ready to take his hand. Again the familiarity hung just beyond his reach. Gepard gave up trying to remember. He missed the first time he reached for the hand, and its owner assisted on the second attempt, catching his hand in a firm grip and pulling him to his feet.

For a moment Gepard’s knees threatened to buckle from pain alone as they took his weight. He clutched at his guide’s arm with his other hand, breathing heavily as he sought balance. At last his knees held, and he released his guide’s arm.

Gepard’s guide pulled him along, and Gepard mustered every ounce of strength to follow. Something dragged at him, beyond the sheer exhaustion. It threatened to make every step his last, but still Gepard persisted, still he found just enough will to keep moving forward, one step at a time.

“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Just keep walking.”

Again Gepard tried to recall the voice’s owner, but as soon as he neared the answer it slipped away like water draining through his fingers. Numb surprise was the only constant at finding this man as his helper.

“You’re doing great, just a little farther and we’ll be back.”

Gepard stumbled and lost his footing, but his guide caught him and held him fast before he could fall far.

“I know it’s hard, but we can’t stop. We’re getting so close.”

After a few breaths to steady himself, Gepard dragged his feet into position and stood. “I’m ready,” he managed.

The guide took his hand again, and they continued on. “We’re almost there—”

There was sudden, blinding light that made the hollow ache behind his eyes blossom into a full-blown headache, accompanied by the crunch of snow under his boots. The sudden spike in pain was enough to force him to his knees. Gepard pulled his hand free and brought both to his face with a groaning whimper, trying to shut out as much of the agonizing light as possible. Tears trickled through his fingers, freezing within moments of touching the frigid air of the Snow Plains.

His guide stumbled somewhere just ahead, followed by the squeaking crunch of both knees coming down in the snow. He gave a horrified gasp and tried to get back to his feet, only to flounder and fall back to the snow a moment later.

Gepard took one hand away from his face and reached blindly ahead, hoping to lend what assistance he could to the man who’d rescued him. His hand found a sleeve, then a distinctive piece of metal as he moved up to the shoulder...

“Sampo?” Gepard hesitantly lowered his other hand, squinting against pain and the snow’s reflected light. The shape of the person in front of him was right, but the color... Sampo was as ghastly white from skin to clothing, save for a few stark streaks of red in his hair like blood strewn across fresh snow. A tattered memory drifted back to him, fragile and clinging like a piece of cobweb: the black abyss, the white figure, and the infinitely sharp blade peeling away the thing that had been puppeting him for days. “What happened to you?” Gepard slid his hand to one of the chains that ran over Sampo’s shoulder and pulled him closer. “Sampo? Hey, answer me.”

For a few terrifying moments Sampo didn’t move. Then the muscles around his eyes twitched and he pried them open, even such a small movement taking monumental effort. Even his eyes had been drained of color, save for a few threads of scarlet in his irises. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a silent cloud of mist made it past his lips.

“Come on, say something!” Gepard put both hands on Sampo and gave him a brief shake, as if trying to wake him up. A few more memories returned, of his terror upon realizing he no longer had control of his body, of having to watch that thing use him to terrorize others. Sampo put a stop to it, and now... “Tell me how I can help you!” A surge of adrenaline gave Gepard the energy to force himself to his feet. He tried to drag Sampo up with him, carry him somewhere safer where they could figure out what to do without the cold pressing in on them, but Sampo was like a dead weight in his arms and there was nowhere he could think of to go.

Again Sampo tried to speak, to no avail. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, drawing every scrap of focus together, and forced the words out: “I’m drifting off... Ground me. Make me laugh, or surprise me. Just hurry.”

“Wh—” A fresh wave of panic descended on Gepard as Sampo closed his eyes and fell silent again. Had Sampo asked that he fight some manner of beast to fix things, Gepard would’ve done it in a heartbeat, exhaustion be damned. But surprise someone like Sampo? Make someone laugh on purpose? That would be a tall order even with all of Gepard’s mental faculties in order.

He focused his attention on Sampo again and realized that he could see his own shadow through him. The man was literally fading away right in front of him.

There was nothing but to give it his all. It was the least Gepard could do after what Sampo had gone through to save him; he’d never forgive himself if Sampo died now.

Gepard kept a hold on Sampo as he knelt down in front of him, his battered and weary brain struggling to come up with anything that would meet the criteria. Ideas continued to skitter out of his reach, until finally he pounced on one and pinned it down. It was something that would surprise anyone, especially with the sort of relationship he and Sampo shared. They were running out of time, he had to try it.

“Alright Sampo,” Gepard said as he took Sampo’s face in both hands to keep him steady. He only had one shot with this idea. Best not to miss. “Hey! Pay attention!”

Sampo forced his eyes open, their lids drooping and threatening to close at any moment.

Gepard took a deep breath to steel his resolve and pulled Sampo in for the kiss. He screwed his eyes shut just before their lips met, his face already burning against the cold. Time seemed to stretch around that small point of contact as a sudden flood of sensations hit Gepard all at once. A brief flutter in his chest like the wings of a bird startled into flight, followed by a bubbling warmth that blossomed in its wake and spread to the very tips of his chilled limbs. There was the subtle spicy scent of Sampo’s cologne as Gepard drew his next breath through his nose, and the unfortunate rasp of lips chapped by the cold.

Sampo gave a shocked inhale through his nose upon receiving the kiss, suddenly going rigid under Gepard’s hands.

Gepard held the kiss for only a few moments, then he let Sampo go. It was brief but... Better than he’d ever expected it to be. And hopefully it was enough.

He opened his eyes and sat back on his heels, his face still burning as he tried to avoid thinking about the lingering warmth from the kiss. In truth he’d been expecting a wave of revulsion upon kissing any wanted criminal, but instead...

Best not to think about it for now.

Sampo wobbled upon being released, then pitched back and landed hard on his rear, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he stared at Gepard in plain shock. Color flooded back into him, as if the skilled hand of a painter were bringing him back to life. Blue flowed from the roots of his hair, leaving only the tips white as they always were, and vivid reds led the charge in restoring his clothes. In the space of a few moments he looked just as he was supposed to. “Wh— What was that?!” Sampo said in numb disbelief.

“I’m sorry! It was the first thing I could think of!” Gepard replied, his voice cracking slightly from embarrassment.

After a few breaths to get his bearings Sampo pushed himself up onto his knees and brought a hand to his mouth. “So... Did you mean it, or—”

“No I didn’t mean it!” Gepard snapped, despite not being sure himself.

Sampo looked down at himself and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing that his normal color and opacity were back. “Well it worked either way.” His chuckle ended with an embarrassed sigh. “Guess I owe you a favor now.”

“Let’s just call it even,” Gepard said, waving the idea off. “I still can’t remember much, but I know that thing was planning to kill me sooner or later.”

“It was letting you watch what it was doing?” Sampo said, his scowl showing a bit of canine. “That asshole...”

A sudden shiver cut off Gepard’s agreement. He checked the sky and noted that the day was almost over. They would need to find shelter for the night, or find a way to get back to Belobog before night fell. “Where are we?” Gepard wondered aloud; they were on the Snow Plains, sure, but the befuddlement of exhaustion and whatever that thing had done to him made identifying local landmarks impossible.

Sampo gave their surroundings a brief glance. “I have a hideaway nearby. I think we can make it if we head out now.” He braced himself with one hand and got to his feet, then raised his arms above his head in a long stretch.

Gepard made the attempt, but the adrenaline and its temporary strength had left him, and his legs buckled as soon as they took his weight. He cast about for his weapon in the hopes that he could use it to prop himself up, only to find it missing; there were no footprints leading to their location either, they’d somehow moved without leaving any trace. Gepard let out a long, grumbling sigh. “They’re gonna think I’m dead when they find my weapon by itself. Serval’s gonna have a heart attack!”

“Just text her then.”

“That thing threw my phone away,” Gepard growled. It was probably somewhere on the Snow Plains, still buzzing away with incoming messages.

“Then I’ll do this,” Sampo quipped as he took out his phone. His hand wobbled as he took the picture. He let out an annoyed sigh but kept it regardless. “It’s blurry and you look half dead, but at least it proves you’re alive.”

“Serval doesn’t have you blocked, right?”

Sampo froze. “Uh.” A few more taps and Sampo’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I’m blocked.” He very deliberately avoided Gepard’s glare and continued on, “I’ll just text Miss Natasha and she’ll pass the word along.”

Gepard decided to leave it for now and took a few deep breaths, then slowly got to his feet. “Where’s the hideaway you mentioned?”

Sampo pocketed his phone, then glanced around again. “Just along those cliffs over there. There shouldn’t be many fragmentum monsters around here, too.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Gepard grumbled. He could barely stand against a stiff breeze at this point; fending off monsters was out of the question.

“We better hurry, then.” Sampo took Gepard’s near arm and draped it over his shoulders.

“You don’t have to carry me,” Gepard said as they started off. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I still look better than you,” Sampo replied. “And I didn’t risk my existence just to let you freeze to death out here.”

Gepard lowered his head and focused on putting one foot in front of the other for a while. “Sorry for all this,” he mumbled.

“Don’t apologize. Heliobus possession is impossible to break out of on your own,” Sampo said. “And that one wasn’t interested in making a deal to let you go. Believe me, I tried negotiating while it was chasing me earlier. There wasn’t anything you could do.”

That was worse, somehow. He’d experienced it firsthand as he struggled in vain to take back control, as the heliobus acted in direct contradiction to what he wanted just to spite him, but there was always that hope that he’d be willful enough to break through eventually. But to find out that it was simply impossible...

Gepard’s breath caught in his throat as his airways started to narrow. He would’ve died, and that thing would’ve moved on to its next victim without a second thought. And he knew exactly who would’ve been next. Serval, followed by the rest of his family. And there was nothing he could’ve done to stop it. Resisting was as futile as fighting a blizzard.

Gepard brought a hand to his head and tried to catch his breath, the chill of every inhale painfully sharp in his throat.

“Hey, calm down,” Sampo said, keeping up their relentless march as he brought a steadying hand to Gepard’s chest. “It’s over, that thing won’t hurt anyone ever again. Don’t think about it until we’re inside. Just focus on walking right now.”

Tears started again, as much from the pain and exhaustion as from fear. Every breath was agony—tension traced every rib and muscle with small, vicious needles, and the headache pounded relentlessly behind his eyes. Gepard focused on his feet, clumsily but deliberately putting one foot in front of the other, on and on, while the terror lurked in the background like a vulture waiting for its next meal to stop moving.

Sampo helped him through it all without complaint, no matter how Gepard slowed or stumbled. Gepard had called their score even earlier, but in truth... He might not be able to repay this debt.

The ping of Sampo’s phone receiving a message startled them both. “I bet that’s Natasha. See? Things are looking up,” Sampo said jovially as he paused to take his phone from his pocket. He opened up his messages, tilting his phone so Gepard could see the good news.

Natasha Who is this? How did you get my number? Sampo Please tell Serval her brother is safe

Sampo’s hand had started to shake as he typed out his reply. He didn’t say a word as he put his phone away, his eyes focused on the snow just ahead of them.

It didn’t make sense. Natasha and Sampo were known associates, and surely Sampo hadn’t done anything to provoke her into saying such a thing out of spite. “Sampo...?” Gepard looked up at him, noting how pale Sampo’s face had gone and the tension that drew his lips into a thin line. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s keep moving,” Sampo replied, his voice flat and lifeless. “I’ll tell you later.”

They reached the cliff and continued along in its shadow. It blocked the growing wind, allowing them to pick up the pace. 

Gepard tried not to think as he took one step after another. His body made its complaints known with nothing else to distract him. Chapped lips, long-neglected by the heliobus, had started to crack and bleed. Every inch of him ached, most of all his legs thanks to the fact they had to keep moving—his knees would probably be swollen for days at this rate. The headache was alive and well, its pain pulsing with every heartbeat like a small spiteful blacksmith hammering away at a new project. His stomach added its complaints to the pile, hunger pangs having long since progressed from annoyance to agony. And on top of it all was the sharp, fearful tension that clutched at his chest and throat. He should’ve stopped moving some time ago, yet he pressed on regardless. Sampo’s support was the only reason he’d gotten this far.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, Sampo stopped. “We made it,” he said as Gepard looked up at the span of cliff face in front of them. There was nothing special about it as far as Gepard could see, until Sampo reached up and tugged at a fist-sized rock that protruded from it. A hidden mechanism clicked and a door-sized chunk of the cliff swung back to reveal a rough-hewn tunnel.

Sampo dragged Gepard inside and shut the door behind them.

Gepard gasped at the sudden darkness and stumbled in Sampo’s grip.

“It’s okay,” Sampo said calmly. There was the rasp of his glove running over stone, and then a dim orange light illuminated the tunnel. “See? We’re safe.” He maneuvered Gepard to a bench that had been carved out of the tunnel’s rock and lowered him onto it, then sat down himself and slouched against the stone at their backs.

Gepard stared numbly at the far wall. The mist of their breath was far less obvious now, though he had no doubt that his own lips were as blue as Sampo’s at this point. It would likely be warmer once they were farther inside. They were indeed safe.

Sampo braced one hand against the wall at his back and forced himself to his feet. “Can you stand?” He offered Gepard a hand up, which Gepard sorely needed; his legs threatened to buckle again as soon as he put weight on them.

A wooden door waited for them at the end of the tunnel, with a set of carved stone steps leading up to it. The hinges gave little noise as Sampo opened it, while the floorboards beyond creaked as they stepped inside. Gepard lifted his head and looked around as the lights—a few shades brighter than those in the tunnel—came on. The room was lined with wood on all sides and likely had some manner of insulation separating it from the rock that held it. A memory drifted back to him, of Lynx sharing some factoid about cave camping: you had to be careful about heat on cold rock, since that could cause it to break away and collapse. Any insulation here would have twofold benefit. The furnishings within the room were simple but well-kept: a table with three chairs, a bed, various cupboards and chests, a few crates stacked in a corner, an ice chest, and a geomarrow stove. There was a door across the way that Gepard guessed would lead to some sort of bathroom. Not fancy by any means, but a sight for sore eyes after what they’d been through.

There was no trace of mist when they breathed now. Sampo guided Gepard to a nearby chair and pulled one over for himself, dropping into it and letting his head hang over the back. They remained there for a while, trying to regain their strength.

“Okay,” Sampo said at last as he hauled his head back up. “I’ll warm something up, and then we can sleep like the dead.” He stood without waiting for any reply from Gepard and opened a set of cupboards near the stove, where he retrieved a couple bottles from within. He passed one to Gepard and took a long drink from the one he kept.

Gepard needed all his focus to get the cap off the bottle. He took a sip and found it full of clean water, its cool caress an absolute mercy on his chapped upper lip and dry throat. The smell of sizzling Belobog sausage greeted him when he came up for air, and his stomach very pointedly reminded him that it had been too long since his last meal. Gepard’s grip on the bottle tightened as he held back a complaint—all he had to do was wait and the food would be ready, no need to embarrass himself by whining.

The wait was agonizing, though Gepard knew it couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes. Time just didn’t register correctly at the moment. Probably thanks to the exhaustion.

At last Sampo set their plates on the table, with two Belobog sausages on each. He sat down, his chair facing Gepard and the table on his right, and stabbed one of his sausages with a fork without a word.

Gepard followed suit, too tired to bother cutting the sausages first and instead tearring off chunks with his teeth as Sampo was. The skin of the sausage was crisped to perfection, and the interior just short of being able to burn his mouth. He started salivating the moment the salty, savory flavor touched his tongue. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. Gepard needed all his will to chew each bite thoroughly, if only to keep himself from choking on it. He was determined to ask for more as he made his way through the first, but after finishing the second he felt satisfied for the time being.

Sampo let out a long sigh as he pushed his plate aside. “I’m ready to hibernate. What about you?”

“Same,” Gepard replied. Sampo had promised to explain when they got to the hideaway but now the two of them could barely keep their eyes open. It would have to wait until tomorrow.

Gepard started the laborious task of taking off his armor. He lost track of what Sampo was doing while he worked, and Sampo surprised him by shoving a set of dark green pajamas in his face just as he set the last of his chest armor aside.

“Here, borrow these for tonight. The bathroom’s through that door, you can clean up in there,” Sampo said as he jerked a thumb at the door beyond the table. He was already wearing a set of red pajamas himself. 

“Thank you.” Gepard briefly wondered if Sampo was trying to subtly tell him he stank, then decided it didn’t matter—he probably did stink. He wasn’t soiled by any means but the heliobus had driven him hard enough to make him sweat multiple times under his armor. Even a simple cleanup with a washcloth would do wonders for him.

Gepard slowly worked his way through the rest of his armor, stopping a layer short of his underclothes, then he took the borrowed pajamas into the bathroom.

~~~

Sampo was seated on the bed when Gepard stepped out of the bathroom, and all lights had been turned off save for a small dim one that was only bright enough to allow navigation of the room without turning the others on. Gepard was weary still, but feeling better for having been allowed the simple act of cleaning himself up. Sleep would be easy to find tonight, regardless of the horrors he’d been forced to endure in the past week. He was simply too tired to dwell on them.

“Ready?” Sampo asked, smiling for the first time since they’d arrived in the hideaway. It was a relief to see that smile’s return, regardless of how annoying it may have been in the past.

“Yeah,” Gepard replied. The blush was back, but he would sleep easier if he was able to feel another person next to him. Especially after that person had saved him before. There was no reason to make a big deal of it.

Sampo stood and let Gepard take the side nearest the wall, as if he’d anticipated how insecure Gepard might be feeling at the moment.

Gepard was grateful either way. He settled in and slid his feet under the folded blankets. There was just enough room for the two of them, as long as they lay close enough together. Gepard grabbed Sampo and held him close as soon as he pulled the covers over them, any remaining embarrassment forgotten in the haze of exhaustion. To his relief Sampo didn’t pull away, and he even allowed Gepard to tuck his head under his chin, one cheek resting against the soft fabric that covered his collarbone.

Silence reigned for a time. Gepard was just about to drift off, but he had one worry to ask about first.

“Hey, Sampo.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m... Not going to wake up and find that you disappeared, right?”

“You wouldn’t remember me if that did happen,” Sampo replied after a brief pause. “But this arrangement should make sure it doesn’t.”

The final knot of worry unwound, and Gepard let himself melt into Sampo’s arms. “Okay.” He closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he mumbled as he drifted off.

[ghostoffuturespast]

hey ghostie i was gna get specific for the ask game but I wanna know *all* of it now, the acronyms, the full names, all of em! are they for cyberpunk or other fandoms? no matter how much there is to know, i wanna know! talking about an idea helps a lot, i speak from experience! thanks for the mention, ill get on the wip game soon, too! ❤️

WIP Game Here

Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it :) They are all Cyberpunk 2077 things lol. I’ve largely been a lurker in other fandoms until this one, and this is the first one that finally compelled me to make stuff and that I’ve had the bravery to share. Don’t have many snippets at the moment, all of what I have so far is already out there. Since you asked for all of them though, I shall dish and give you a bit of a peak behind the curtain on how all this got started…

(I’m sorry, this got very rambly.)

And def tag me when you do yours! I will come find you and your wips! 🧡

SIG - So It Goes

(The title is based off the radio song from the game that you can listen to on Morro Rock. Never officially released and credited to the fictional band Fingers and the Outlaws in the game. Officially sung by Ryan Kattner, the front singer of the band Man Man.)

SIG is my current V/River conspiracy theory long fic that I’m working on, and the project is coming up on its two year anniversary. It’s also my first fic. I’m hoping to wrap it up this spring so I can move on to other creative endeavors. There are a lot of art projects, fandom and non-fandom related, that I’ve held off on because of this and I miss those hobbies. I also feel like I’ve been missing out a lot in the writing corner of the fandom too because a lot of new writers have popped up on the scene since I started (back when there was still a monopoly on the tag, but that’s a different story) and everyone else seems to be having fun reading everyone else’s fics, except me… Reading’s complicated for me right now. Writing this had a lot of ups and downs, but overall I’ve loved telling this story, learned a lot, and I’m really proud of it!

I think most people get into fic writing for the ships, the romance, the smut, the processing of internalized trauma, a more satisfactory ending, weird niche interests… And don’t get me wrong there’s a lot of appeal with all that, and definitely those aspects in my own work. But this whole thing got started because of conspiracy theories. I fucking love mysteries and puzzles, so after playing the sun ending and then I spotting Mr. Blue Eyes on the balcony during the conclusion of Dream On, I just about lost my damn mind. I went down the rabbit hole, spent hours reading shards and messages in the game, combed reddit theory posts, and started picking up on all the hints and foreshadowing of something larger looming throughout the game.

I initially didn’t have any answers when I made the decision to start this fic (fuck, high probability I still don’t), it was largely me brainstorming and trying to figure out what kind of story I wanted to write. Seeing if I could even piece things together. But in the process of thinking all that through, I came up with this little theory. I thought it was pretty mind blowing at the time (still think it is) but it’s been my little secret since I got here and I’m very anxious to finally share it.

Most people probably would have just written a theory post and been done with it, but I decided to turn mine into a fan fic lol. Which may or not have been a mistake, we’ll see. This is either gonna be game changing or everyone is going to think it’s dumb and I’m gonna be wearing a dunce cap for the next fifty years.

River Ward. The other half of my reason for writing this fic. I actually wasn’t sure if I liked him at first, it took me a while to warm up to him. But the more I got to know him, the more I started to like him. The more he grew on me. He got hotter over time. Plus, I’ve got a fondness for detective characters and unusual coats, so I should’ve seen it coming.

River’s gotten a lot of flak from this fandom. People claim he’s boring. He’s a cop, so acab. Being unemployed and living in a trailer park with your sister, niece, and nephews isn’t a particularly redeeming quality. I don’t agree with most of those statements, but I do agree with the folks who do appreciate his character, that in terms of development, he absolutely got shafted in the game. This fic is also an attempt to rectify that.

For as underdeveloped as his story arc was, there’s a lot of nuance to his character that I think gets glossed over by the game and most people. We didn’t get much, but out of what we did get, it’s been interesting trying to piece a story together that’s in line with what we got. And I did mention earlier that I like puzzles.

I’ve noticed that a lot of folks tend to lean very hard into the cop aspect of his character, but as far as I’m concerned, River Ward doesn’t give a shit about the law. Conducting an off the record investigation, intimidating a confidential informant, illegally obtaining evidence, breaking into a restricted lab, committing arson for your ex so she can pass a medical exam, conducting another investigation after being suspended; those are not the actions of a man who holds the letter of the law above all else. Those are the actions of man who is determined to get to the bottom of things, and protect people, all while navigating a system that is anything but equitable or fair. They are the actions of a man who is willing to go above and beyond for the people he cares about, even to his own detriment. His own safety. For River Ward, it was never about the law, it’s about justice. And pursuing that sometimes involves breaking the rules.

River is also Pomo. Which is something that was only added in subsequent patches, heavily glossed over in the game, and is only disclosed if you choose to actually romance him. But he’s Indigenous. Native American. And yet he still made a conscious decision to join the NCPD. Given the historical participation by law enforcement and government institutions in North America, and around the world, in the cultural erasure and mass genocide of entire nations, tribes, and communities of people. And given the current state of issues regarding law and judicial enforcement on tribal lands, I think River's character is a rather poignant reflection. Of wanting to good, of wanting the world to be better, but being confined in systems that simply won't allow that. There's a billion other little details I could ramble on about, but his character had the capacity to walk a very fine line of complexities which the game never really did justice to.

Diversity and representation in media are important to me, and I want this fic to reflect that. Being bi-racial, I didn’t get very much of it growing up, so if I can provide representation, even in some small capacity, I think it’s better than nothing. And while I don’t know if I’m achieving that, well, shit if I’m not trying.

I wouldn’t say this story was really meant to be original, but rather to fill in the gaps on the story we got and for me to practice writing. Practice telling a story. CP2077 is a violent game set in a violent world. And I somehow managed to start writing a story that accidentally ended up being a love letter to aikido. (Much to my chagrin. It’s everywhere. In everything. I cannot escape it.) Aikido is a martial art that translates “to the way of peace” or “the path of harmony.” Yet again, another study in dichotomies. How can a martial art, an art form designed to inflict violence, be peaceful? Aikido is as much of a martial art as it is a philosophy. We train to practice and learn that philosophy.

One of the major themes I’m exploring in this fic series is the nature of violence. What it is, the forms it takes, how cyclical it is, that it is a relationship - violence requires your participation. So the question ends up being: how do you break cycles of violence when you live in a world where you are beholden to it? V and River are very much two characters that are caught up in cycles of violence. Will they find peace? I don’t know, but maybe they can find out together.

From The Top

(This one isn’t named after a song. I just decided to start from the beginning.)

From The Top is the VP project I started up last spring where I’ve been taking storyboard style photos of all the main missions. Plus whatever else I feel like. I take all of my photos on PS5 in vanilla photomode and randomly started snapping pictures just because. I did landscape photos, shared a few. Got a bit of nice feedback from people who cared to look and then started branching out. I eventually got to the point where I started a new playthrough for the sole purpose of snapping photos.

Taking VP is very different from writing for me. I don’t have to think about. I don’t agonize about making sure every tiny detail is just right, because for the most part I don’t have very much control It’s candid, intuitive, experimental, it’s straight up play. I simply wait for opportunities to present themselves and capture whatever I think looks or feels interesting to me. It’s easy for me to walk away from it if it doesn’t do well when I post. Unlike my writing, there’s no ego attached to it.

I’m getting to the tail end of this project, I still have a couple of the base game missions to get through, but I’d also like to do Phantom Liberty as well. Not sure what my VP career is going to look like after this, might go into soft retirement. But that’s okay.

NR - Night Running

(Named after Night Running by Cage the Elephant)

Is a sleeper wip that’s currently in the notes, brainstorming, and kitchen drawer phase. It’s part 2 of my Nothing Comes Before Night City series. So It Goes is part 1.

It takes a long time for me to mull over and ruminate on ideas, so this document is largely just a repository for notes and thoughts. Jamming the utensils in the drawer until I’m ready to organize them. I have a very broad idea of what I’d like to happen in this fic, key moments I’d like to hit, but there’s still a lot of refinement that needs to happen, and stories this involved require me outlining. I do already have a running set list of songs to draw from though.

Les Preludes

(Named after Les Preludes by Franz Liszt)

Another sleeper wip, also in the brainstorming phase. These are meant to be one-shots or short stories from the Nothing Comes Before Night City series. Moments I mentioned in the series, but can’t fit into the larger story. Character studies and background lore from V, River, Johnny, Jackie, a couple of OCs and whatever else I can think of.

I will probably start casually working on these after I finish SIG and while I’m outlining NR. I’d like the series to go in chronological order. Should be fun. And I think it’ll be good practice for being more concise. Unlike, this response...

If you stuck around for this TedTalk and made it all the way to the end, thank you! 👻

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for venting?

(Couldn’t think of a better title I’m sorry/TW for talk of suicide)

Alright so a bit of backstory. I (15M) have a younger sibling who I’ll call L (13NB). L has a friend group that I kinda got sucked into consisting of V (13NB) and N (13M) (& another few people who weren’t as involved and I haven’t talked to much/at all). So the group was recently in quite a lot of drama that I for the most part won’t get into because it isn’t relevant & I want to maintain as much anonymity as possible but 4 important details are:

1.There is a group chat that the 4 of us are one (that I ended up muting for my own sanity)

The drama was mostly between V and N

L mostly took N’s side and I was mostly on V’s

I thought the drama was (for the most part) the stupidest thing ever (specifically in terms of the topic vs the reaction)

Now here’s the part where I might be TA. I was getting sick of the constant fighting and it got to a point where I was being dragged into it more. Partially for a small thing that I understand I shouldn’t have done but mainly for something that both then and now while I 100% do not regret. Now I’ve typed this sentence a million times trying to find a way to say what I did vaguely but all of it just kinda makes me seem like an AH for the thing I’m not even asking about so I’ll just say what they were mad at me for. Earlier in the drama N sent a post to the group chat basically saying “Fuck you. This situation is so stressful for me and I’m going to kill myself or at least try” which caused me (who has a history of seriously suicidal friends & suicidality myself) to have a panic attack and text & call his mom (who from what I’d seen & heard was pretty understanding of that sort of thing) at 10PM about it (keep in mind I had a similar thing happen to me a couple years ago except I was the one who’s mom was being called in the middle of the night mid panic attack). I didn’t want anyone to know who told her because I didn’t want to make the drama worse but a few days later I let slip to L that I was the one who told and they told N from there. (sorry that wasn’t really relevant but I couldn’t think of a shorter way to say it.) Anyway, back to what actually happened. I got fed up with them and vented at first to a few tumblr mutuals (no names or accounts were mentioned and it was all to people who didn’t know them) and then when it got worse I made a post about it, first making sure to block N (L doesn’t use tumblr and in retrospect I should’ve blocked V too but I didn’t think it was necessary because IDK they were the ones being yelled at/made fun of/whatever by L and N) and again, didn’t mention any names or urls, just stuff that was said in the group chat. Anyway V ended up showing L and N the posts and they got pretty mad (which TBF I understand) and long story short after yelling in the group chat I wasn’t paying much attention to both of them at different times ended up talking to me on PMs and they both apologized to me/I apologized to them and whatnot and this post is ABSOLUTELY NOT about calling anyone TA for anything except what I’m specifically asking. What I’m asking is AITA for talking to those people and making those posts? I wasn’t doing it to spread rumors or to vaguepost (if I was I wouldn’t have taken the care to make sure they didn’t see it and no one knew who they were) I was doing it because I was pissed and seriously felt like I was going insane, but also I do understand why they’re mad. So AITA?

PS: if you think you might be one of the people involved here I just want to make it clear I’m not doing this to start or continue anything. I’m just doing this because I’m curious about whether I’m in the wrong objectively for this specific thing. When I said I hated drama and it takes a serious toll on me I meant it, I really just want this situation over and would rather it not start up again because of a post (which is why I’m sending this on AITA and not making a normal blog post). Also sorry everybody for the bad formatting 😅

What are these acronyms?

[bryan360]

No “On This Day” posting I’ll be focusing today.

Also….

‼️(NO COPYING OR PLAGIARIZING FROM ME AND ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIEND’S WORK! THAT INCLUDES OUR CHARACTERS, DESIGNS, STUFF, ETC. IMPOSTERS AND SEXBOTS ARE NOT WELCOME TO FOLLOW MY BLOG WHATSOEVER! 😡 That will be all….I mean it.)‼️

2024 Review - Seagate 2TB Portable Drive (Third/Final - Storing game(s))

It’s been a long time coming; not to mention through scheduling at the program all weekdays I’d been in. Nevertheless, I’m finally coming back to this topic for the final time. After that the second half of installing with my gaming console is done, I’m now be storing/moving one of my games from its internal storage; which I’d already got it at early January this year.

⬆️ (From January. 6th, 2024; 3:04 to 6:24 P.M)

The first one is I’d finally gotten to installed Forza Horizon 5; the same game from last year’s Christmas gift for my Xbox One system. You can thank our friend @carmenramcat of ever giving me for Christmas by surprise. Link Here

I haven’t boosted this racing game yet; not until after getting my own potable hard drive in early January 2024. There are plenty of games in it as well, but that’s gonna wait after the final part of this topic review.

So anyways, I’d managed to move this to my portable hard drive which had lot of storage needed. Just how long it will take after installing? Well from checking in actual time (via screenshots information) about 3:04 to 6:24 P.M., it’s 3 hours, 20 minutes, and 33 seconds when calculated by using calculator.net website. Wow. Sure it would make sense due to how big this racing game will be, but taking three hours or less was a bit long. Still, nothing bad happens once it’s done for my portable drive. At least I’m grateful that I’d finally got this game downloaded after months later. The transfer progress should’ve speed things up though. That being said, I can’t wait to dive in unless for further planning to share soon. Or if I haven’t gotten through FH3 progress as of yet. I’d appreciate for having my portable drive with me that I’m willing to transfer other games more. 👍

Update: So I haven’t downloaded just one FH5 updated patch just yet. Not until back in Sunday this week that I got it as well. Now it took me about from 1:52 to 2:23 P.M.; or 31 minutes and 5 seconds shorter. Not bad that didn’t take this long. I won’t be surprised that there will more updated patches for FH5 to check out, just in case.

(Back in March. 24th, 2024) (just after transferring other games that I’d save since February 3rd, 2024)

Now to get into with my other games I’ve previously transfer for my portable hard drive. During the same date of January 6th, I did the second time with 👊💥MultiVersus; a free to play fighting platform made by Player First Games. It took about few minutes than I did with my Forza Horizon 5 game within three hours or less. And then afterwards til February 3rd at 6:20 to 6:53 P.M., I got with two previous Forza Horizon titles, Rare Replay included two Banjo-Kazooie titles, Cuphead, Kingdom Hearts 3, and PAC-MAN Museum+. Talk about plenty of some along the way. Thought looks like it takes minutes for almost all games included this time. That’s good to see that it happened, right?

So anyways as I’d going back to its storage devices setting, my portable drive is about 16.1% within 1.5 TB free spaces. It’s not full enough as of yet. Though who knows if there’s plenty room to pick which I’m going for sooner or later. Other than that, I also pointed out for its internal storage had few games in it. It’ll be for another time to save, I promise.

My Experience/Overall Thoughts: ⬇️

Storing/transferring FH5 (Forza Horizon 5) (plus other games) with my external hard drive was an interesting progress to get through. It depends how many games to transferring within minutes/hours before completion. All in all, I couldn’t done it without my first portable drive that I’d wanted for my gaming console. It won’t be a matter of time before I can get a new one in the near future, but not right now. I’m happy of having a portable drive I’ll be taking care of. 🙂 If you’re curious or interested to get one of those, then it’s available on Amazon.com. It normally cost about $70, so hopefully that you still have your savings left. Link Here

See ya guys until my upcoming topics are coming soon. 👋

Tagged: @murumokirby360 @carmenramcat @alexander1301 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 @paektu

[asshlyyyy]

On The First Day of Christmas

Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x Fem!Reader

Day Two

Yes that’s right, you read the title correct. For the next twelve days I will be posting. These will not be very long, in fact day one and twelve will most likely be the longest one.

These will be posted along side my regular posts as a thank you. As always, my work can either be viewed with Elvis or Austin!Elvis

Masterlist

Warnings: Grammatical and Spelling Errors Most Likely

Word Count: 1.3k

The countdown has finally begun. There were officially only twelve days left until Christmas Day. Every year you tend to do something different, but surprisingly you haven’t done the one thing everyone thinks about. The actual song. The twelve days of Christmas, and you were going to do it. Some of them were a bit ambitious, but that wasn’t going to stop you. 

You got out of the car with a smile and closed the door behind you. Elvis was currently away for the day. Which meant you had enough time to get day one done. As the song goes, On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me… A partridge in a pear tree. 

Now, some problems arrived with this one. You could not get a live partridge. Hell, you wouldn’t even know where to get one. So, you got a stuffed one. Now the next issue was a pear tree. You could get a live tree no issue, it was Christmas after all. You didn't actually get a real-life tree because you figured you could reuse the small fake one. The issue was the pears, which you decided to make yourself. Then you would just tie them on. No big deal and it was easy.

You opened the trunk to the vehicle and pulled out the tree, it was a fake tree okay… so you shoved it in the trunk along with your supplies. You made your way to the front door and pushed open the door. You and Elvis have already decorated for Christmas, but these last days you always did something more. You were going above and beyond this year though. 

“Mrs. Presley, do you need some help?” You felt yourself jump out of your skin at the voice. You looked up and spotted one of the maids that worked around Graceland.

“Jesus, Katherine, you scared me.” You chuckled lightly and pushed the door closed with your foot. “What are you still doing here? I thought I sent you all home for the holidays?”

“Mr. Presley wanted me to come in and give the house a quick clean. I was actually heading out.” She answered your question.

“Why would he do that?” You wondered. You were fine with cleaning the house. You always let the staff go home for the holidays. 

“He wanted to surprise you,” she smiled softly. You blushed gently and shook your head. 

“Of course he did. Well, you go home and enjoy your holidays okay?” 

“I will, see you next year.” She nodded and went to leave the house. She gave you a light wave and made her way to the car. 

“See you next year Katherine.” You smiled and watched as she left. You closed the door once more and made your way over to the living room. You peered over at the clock and checked the time. It wasn’t like it was going to take you that long, but you still wanted to be done before he would be in.

You walked over to the record player and picked one of the records from the pile. You put it on and went to town. You got the tree out of the box and set it up. It wasn’t a big tree, which was the idea. It was supposed to be small enough to be on top of a table.

Once you set that up you got the bird plush and zip-tied it to the tree. You did not want this bird to go anywhere. Not like it could fly… you just don’t want it to get knocked off. You plugged in the tree and sat down on the couch to get your arts and crafts together.

You didn’t have to make too many pears since it was a small tree. You had some twine and punched out a hole so that you could attach it together. You then went ahead and add it to the tree and BOOM.

A partridge in a pear tree. 

“Dammit! I should’ve bought actual pears… Maybe I could catch Elvis…” You rushed to the phone and dialed the number for the building Elvis was in. It happened to be Sun Records. He wasn’t recording anything, but he was going over some new music. 

“Sun Records, this is Sam Phillips speaking. How can I help you?” You heard an answer. 

“Sam! Can you put Elvis on the phone please?” You asked. Sure you could catch up with him, but this was life or death! Not literally but… close enough. 

“Is that Y/n Presley?” You could hear the smile in Sam’s voice. 

“The one and only.” You replied back, a slight smile on your face.

“I’ll put him right on.” He announced. You said a quick thank you and waited for your husband to pick up. 

“Hey sweetheart,” You heard Elvis’ voice. You smiled at his voice and felt yourself melt. His voice was just so soothing and ugh- 

“Hi Elvis, I have a favor to ask.” You said in your nicest, sweetest voice ever. Which was what your voice always sounded like of course. 

“Anything.”

“Can you stop by the store and pick up a few pears please?” You asked. You tilted your head to the side a bit. 

“Yeah, anything else you want me to pick up?” He asked. You smiled at him. It was nice of him to ask if there was anything else you needed.

“Umm,” you thought about it for a bit. You were going to have to go out tomorrow to get the rest of the things but for right now… “No, that’s all. I forgot to pick them up while I was out.”

“Mmm all right. Is this for your twelve days of Christmas?” Elvis then asked. Ever since you two moved in you’ve done this. It was always tradition with your family and you wanted to keep it going. Elvis fell in love with it the first time you did it.

“Hmm… maybe,” You let out a light giggle. 

“I’ll go pick some up, I should be home in an hour.” He announced. 

“Okay baby, thank you. I love you,”  You said with a smile. The phone wire wrapped around your finger. It reminded you of when you were a teenager. Something you always did while on the phone with Elvis. 

“I love you too, darlin’.” You heard the click of the phone and hung up your own. 

You were positive that Elvis was going to know what you were doing the second he came in and saw the small tree. That didn’t mean he knew exactly what you were going to do for the other days. You had to get creative now. Think about it, there were eight maids of milking. You already had a plan for that, but that is what you were talking about.

He could know what you were doing, but there was no way he could know what you would do. If that makes any lick of sense. You made your way over to the living room and plopped down on the couch. You grabbed the blanket that was hanging off the side and wrapped it around yourself. You picked up the book on the coffee table and got to work reading. 

Before you knew it Elvis was walking in the front door. You smiled and said a quick hi before you unraveled yourself from your comfort. Elvis smiled in return and reached the bag out towards you. You made your way toward him and grabbed the bag. You pressed yourself up on your tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss.

"So, what's the theme for this year?" He asked.

"Well, let's see." You said as you made your way over to your tree. You pulled the pears out of the bag and situated them up near the tree.

"Is that...?"

"A partridge in a pear tree," you smiled and looked at him, "because... on the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me... a partridge in a pear tree~" You sang. Elvis chuckled lightly and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"I love it, and I love you." He pressed a kiss on top of your head. "But how the hell are you going to get twelve drummers drumming?"

"Oh, I have my ways, Mr. Presley... I have my ways."

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[catsandgoodbooks]

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

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Technoblade passed Dream a green mug, filled to the brim with chamomile. Dream took a cautious first sip the second the piglin looked away and tasted the signature sweetness of healing pots. Ah. So it was Phil’s recipe then. He’d been trying to get Dream off potions, and, if that necessitated a different transfer method because potions were still all too necessary, so be it.

“Last night was fine?” Techno asked, rummaging through one of his chests as he spoke.

Dream nodded, even though he knew Techno couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I didn’t have any dreams.” He ignored the nightmares from the night prior, the way that he had woken up a cold sweat and could only count himself lucky that he hadn’t cried out. If they didn’t know about that, then Dream wasn’t going to tell them.

“Nice. Phil asked me to help patch up his roof ‘cause it’s drafty and Niki wants to talk about building her own house up here. She has her whole underground city, and anyone’s allowed to stay there, but she wants to be a bit closer to us. Somewhere to stay when she comes up for the Syndicate meetings,” Techno elaborated. Dream could tell he was rambling but wasn’t going to interrupt him. “Like, Ranboo has–had a place up here too, even though he usually stayed with Tubbo.” Techno shrugged. “We didn’t question it. You don’t question stuff like that.”

“Sounds complicated,” Dream agreed. He really didn’t want to get swept up into the Ranboo relationship drama thingamajig. As far as he knew, and as far as he cared, Ranboo married Tubbo who had been killed by Technoblade, whom Ranboo had also been friends with and maybe Techno had been his mentor? Dream had no idea.

“You don’t say,” Techno responded monotonely without missing a beat. “Hey, you ever think doing that? Building your own house up here? Like, we all know you’re homeless, but you wouldn’t be if do that anymore. Now that I think about it, that would cause a significant decrease in my entertainment and probably cause some people to unsub, but who cares about that? I could make a good thumbnail out of that. A title too. ‘Dream finally gets a house’– Of course, you’d have to move out first–”

The cup almost slipped from Dream’s lax fingers, and he didn’t try to catch it. His breath hitched. So this was it then. This is when Techno told him to leave and never come back. He’d been so absolutely useless even since they’d brought him to the Arctic Commune, and now he was reaping the consequences of that. Techno realized that he was just dead-weight, just there to drag them down, pointless, a liability, not worth the effort to keep around.

Dream being there just put Technoblade and the rest of the Syndicate in danger. The server was going to come for him eventually, and they all knew it. Techno’s reputation could only keep them away for so long.

Dream knew this was coming. He just didn’t expect it to be so subtle, so polite. He didn’t expect to care this much. He didn’t expect to not want to leave. He knew it was the best think he could do, what he had to do, what he needed to do keep the Plan going. For all the sacrifices he made to be worth it. He knew he needed to leave before he was forced out, so that he could leave on his own terms and no one else’s, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Dream couldn’t hear anything besides his own thoughts. He couldn’t hear a single think that Techno said. He kept thinking, and he only sunk deeper the longer he kept thinking.

Suddenly, Technoblade was there, snapping his fingers under Dream’s nose. “Hey, you there, buddy? It would be really cringe if I broke you out of prison just for you to die on me. If you wanted to do that, you should’ve done it in the first week. Now it’s just weird.”

Dream scowled and leaned away from him. “I’m fine. Just…just thinking.”

Techno rolled his eyes. “Aren’t we all,” he commented. He paused and lowered his voice. “It was something I said, wasn’t it?”

Dream nodded, just a little bit. “I got worried that you were going to kick me out.”

“I’d never do that,” was Techno’s instant response. “Sorry, Teletubby, but that’s not happening. We’re roomies now, and I’m not going to do anything to change that. You can leave if you want, but I’d never make you.”

Dream smiled faintly. It hurt a little. “Thanks. It helps.” The mug, still held loosely between his fingers, helped warm his hands. He was happy he didn’t drop it.