#someone might think i’m being shitty but like. i have told the story with my religious trauma and family issues

[eepymonstrr]

plsss my dad tryna push religious shit on me 💀 YOU GUYS SEE HOW QUICK THEY ARE TO TURN WHEN THERE’S A MEDICAL ISSUE WITH *THEM*??

[k-hotchoisan]

Almost Natural (jongho x fem!reader)

You didn’t know when or how it even started, but you knew how it ended—in the best way possible.

Genres/warnings: slight angst if you squint hard enough, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, it’s soft sex, orgasms, friends to lovers, cream pie

Word count: 3.3K

A/n: for my girl @yourlocaljonghoe who requested a friends to lovers fic w jongho ✨

I gotta be honest with you, I had so much fun writing this! Hope you all enjoy! 🩷

You don’t know when it started, or even how. But you definitely remember how it ended at least.

You and Jongho have been friends for a few solid years, through the thick and thin in college. While the both of your met under pretty eccentric circumstances, somehow the friendship blossomed and the both of you were joined at the hip for the most part—through shitty assignments and shitty dates.

“You know at this point, I think I’d rather die single”, you groan, letting the notebook drop onto your face.

You feel the male above your roll his eyes before he swipes the book off your face. “You’re being dramatic again.”

You shoot up. “No way. Not when half of the men on the dating apps are mid as fuck.”

Jongho scoffs playfully. He’s heard you talk about it at least a hundred times. He thinks the stories you tell him about your horrendous dates are entertaining to say the least.

You sit up, and stare at him intently, causing him to scrunch his eyebrows in confusion.

“What, do I have something on my face?”

“Maybe we should date each other”, you say, your gaze serious. You’re only inches away from his face as Jongho feels his breath stuck in this throat.

His eyes widen and his eyebrows push downwards even more in shock. That only causes you to crack a smile before you throw the pillow at his face, bursting into laughter.

“I’m kidding! Damn, don’t show me an expression like that, like it’s a death sentence to date me.”

“I guarantee it probably is”, Jongho says, dramatically wiping imaginary sweat from his eyebrow, with his eyes wide. He takes a beating from your pillow attacks for a good two minutes after that.

You lay under your sheets, staring up at the dark ceiling, thinking about the words you told Jongho. And you slap your face, giggling over his absurd reaction.

But then a strange thought flashes through your brain.

Have you seriously thought about dating Jongho? It swims in your mind for a spilt second before being drowned out by your screaming rationale. You shake your head, blinking a couple of times. No way. The both of you met under such eccentric circumstances that it turned more platonic than you thought, not that you were complaining. Jongho definitely drew some boundaries and you were fully aware of it.

You turn to your sides, thinking through the type of girl Jongho likes—someone who you weren’t at all, and it eases your mind.

At least, you think it does.

Jongho’s in your place by the afternoon, with a takeaway meal prepared for you. He’s dressed up a little better today.

“Date?” You ask, digging into the meal.

He shakes his head. “Some girl I met from the frat party like three years ago. You know her.”

Oh right, one of the really pretty cheerleader girls who always has her hair up in a bun. For a while now, she’s always been around Jongho, although you always see him draw the boundary. You wonder if she’s his type.

“You’d never know. You might end up kissing her by the night ends”, you tease, pointing the spoon at him.

Jongho rolls his eyes. “I don’t kiss friends.”

You purse your lips, rolling your eyes, not bothering to reply him. It is a definite reminder that that’s were you stood in his life.

And maybe it should stay that way.

“Y/n, you listening?” The male pulls your attention back to where you are. You snap back, with a blank stare, and then a dreaded feeling of guilt bleeds into you. You’ve been so out of it recently. It wasn’t as if the guy who asked you out tonight was a bad guy, which made you feel even more guilty.

You force a smile as you swallow these feelings, and nod. “Yeah, just had a lot on my mind recently.”

“I can tell”, he replies with a soft smile.

You were about to force another small talk, that is, until he cuts in.

“I can also tell when my date has someone else on her mind.”

You bite your lip, the guilt bubbling back up again. But the male before you only gives another reassuring smile. You part your lips to speak once more but he just shakes his head with a smile.

“Ah, I didn’t mean anything bad by that. It’s just you shouldn’t force yourself y’know,” he advises. “He’s obviously been on your mind for awhile. Wouldn’t hurt to confront it at least.”

No, it would probably hurt very much.

By then, your thoughts are flooded with Jongho for some reason. You rest at the ledge of the wooden flooring at stares out to the front yard of the traditional vacation home your friends rented out for a quick get away trip. You stare into the night sky, letting the cool air kiss your cheeks, soaking in the night ambience.

“You’re not joining the rest?” Jongho asks, joining your side, with a beer can in his hand. “Not feeling it for the night”, you reply, hugging your knees. Jongho lets his gaze linger on you for a little longer, before gesturing you to follow him. You get up, wondering what he was up to now.

He guides you around a couple of shrubs, and you only grow more confused.

That is, until you hear a soft mewing sound. Your eyebrows are raised as you follow the sound, and it leads you to a cat, nibbling on a couple of snacks. You squeal as you kneel down to pet it’s head as it continues to eat.

“We found this little guy when we were walking over to the common room just now,” Jongho smiles as he squats as well, letting his fingers brush through the cat’s fur. You giggle as the cat claws at your fingers playfully, then nudging it’s head against your leg.

“How was your date?” He suddenly asks, and you are taken aback by that answer. You blink for a second, trying to come up with an answer. “It went decent, I guess”, you reply curtly, darting back to the cat.

“Is he your type?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think that matters. If I like someone I just do. He was a nice guy though.”

“There is someone else”, you murmur to no one in particular.

The air was silent for awhile. You wonder what Jongho is thinking.

Suddenly the cat meows loudly before bolting away, snapping you out of your thoughts. You and Jongho turn to look at each other for a moment before a rain drop hits your cheek, and then a whole downpour.

The both of you stare at each other like idiots before bursting into laughter, not minding how the rain is soaking the both of you. But there was a unanimous agreement to quickly get the hell out of there, even though you were both enjoying the night shower.

“Gosh it’s so cold. Jongho, help get this off me will you?” You squeak, lifting your hands up. Your top shifts up in the direction of your sleeves, and the lace below is barely visible. Jongho pauses for a moment, he’s lost in thought, looking at the way the drops of water trickle down your spine, the way the hem of your bra is peeking out from your top. His brain is suddenly in a mess now.

“Jongho?” You call out, still with your hands out, slightly shivering from the cold breeze. “It’s getting cold. Could you get me out of this?”

Jongho barely snaps out of his little trance. His fingers are trembling slightly, and he’s so thankful that you’re not facing him to see it, and that it was dim enough. His fingers hook under your shirt, and he lifts it, tugging past your arms, swallowing hard at every inch your top leaves your body, your bra slowly coming into full view. You shiver from the cold, and a sound of a clothing article hits the floor. Before you could make sense of it, a pair of strong arms wrap around you, and your words are suddenly stuck in your throat.

You aren’t imagining this. Jongho’s hugging you? He doesn’t want to let go it seems, so you let him embrace you a little longer. He removes his arms from you, but his hands are on your shoulders as he gently turns you around. He swallows hard, taking in the full view of your chest, the way your lace bra hugs your tits teasingly.

His fingers are under your chin, as he tilts you to meet his gaze. His other arm is at the nape of your neck, the mix of warmth and cold sending shivers down your body.

“Stop me”, he says. And two seconds is all he gives before his lips press onto yours, enough to burn up your whole body solely from the sensation. Your mind is plunged into a realm you’ve never been as you completely melt into his kiss, parting your lips to taste more of him.

Oh god, he tastes so good, even after being drenched in the rain like you were. You swear that it’s enough to warm you up.

You swallow as he pulls back from what felt like forever. Your eyes meet his for a quick second, before darting away.

“I thought you don’t kiss friends”, you said, barely in a whisper.

“I don’t want to be friends”, he suddenly confesses. Your heart is racing and your head is spinning.

You look up to face him. A sudden strong resolve arises in you, and you challenge to take it on, wrapping your arms around his neck as you take him in his lips again. Jongho is stunned for a quick second but recovers instantly, his strength evidently overpowering you, not like it fucking mattered anyway, as he guides you to a deeper part of the house, his kisses slowly become more desperate.

He doesn’t want to soil the futons, so he asks you if the floor is okay. You nod, your gaze never leaving his as you try to catch your breath.

The way his wet shirt clings onto his chest is driving you nuts, with a combination of how he looks with his wet hair combed back. Your hands roam his body and they end up playfully under his shirt, and it makes Jongho jump slightly from the temperature difference but a small smile cracks from him before his gaze switches back to desire and lust. He sighs in pleasure as your fingers swipe his nipples before you lift the shirt over his head. He never liked being half naked around you, or at least anyone he knew, but his body is so beautifully shaped, and it only adds onto the wetness that’s accumulating at your core. You bite your lips as you take a deep breath.

“You look so good Jongho”, you say, your eyes finally tearing away from his abdomen. Jongho attacks your lips with his, and it’s then when you realise that he had unhooked your bra with his fingers, the piece of undergarment dropping onto the floor, now your tits in full view of the male before you. Now it’s Jongho’s turn to gasp softly before helping himself, diving right into them, squeezing, kissing, sucking. Soft moans only egg him on as he flicks your hard nipples, the sensations going right to your pussy.

Before you know it, the both of you are soon fully naked, you’re straddling him and your hands not leaving each other. The way he’s gently rubbing against your clit as you’re stroking his clothed erection. The moans gradually increasing in pitch and loudness.

His hands stop your movement.

“Let me fuck you y/n, please?” Jongho asks with the most prettiest look. You answer—by wrapping your arms around his neck once more, swiping his bottom lip as you before pulling away. You move away before tugging his boxers off—and his really girthy cock springs out, red, hard and leaking. You wonder if it’ll fit. But only one way to find out.

You go back to straddling him, letting your wet cunt slide against his cock with your wet slick and his precum. A gasp leaves his lips, his fingers are gripping your hips. Seeing him so hot and bothered actually amuses you—you like the way he’s trying to rut into your cunt while getting lost in the pleasure of his cock rubbing against your pussy. But he becomes impatient.

“Please, y/n. I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now”, Jongho whines, holding everything back as much as he could.

The mischievous smile that spreads across your face soon is replaced by an almost fucked out one the moment you let him enter your pussy. He stretches you out so fucking good. It hurts so fucking good. The way he’s planting kisses all over your chest to ease any discomfort only sent more butterflies in your stomach because he was so fucking gentle. He pushes in each inch, and at every inch, your mind hazes.

“Jjong…so good. Oh god you’re so big”, you almost cry as you sink right to the hilt. Jongho is dazed, feeling the way your warm walls hugging his cock so well. He swears he’s never getting used to this because he wants to feel it over and over again. His breathing is going ragged as he fights from just wanting to just fucking cum in your tight and warm cunt.

“So warm, so good”, he hums it like a mantra, kissing your neck, it feels like he’s leaving a trail blaze from how warm his lips feels. You start slowly lifting your hips, the feeling of his fat cock just dragging along your walls as you slowly pull out is enough to drive you up the walls. Jongho doesn’t wait to push you back down on his cock, and a broken cry leaves your lips, your cunt filled up by Jongho’s cock. It doesn’t take long for him to start making you bounce on his cock and it’s sending the both of you dancing on the tip of euphoria—alongside the moans and the wet sounds of skin slapping. Oh you were so glad no one else is back yet.

Jongho, for a moment gets mesmerised by the way your tits fucking bounce it turns him on so much that you whimper at the way he grows slightly bigger in you. Your eyes and mind were in the heavens, because the next moment you know it, he has you on the floor, staring right at him with glazed eyes and teary eyes.

Your hands tighten around his arms as he fucks into you so good, and he hikes your legs up onto his shoulder as he drills his cock deeper into you, sending you deeper into the realms of pleasure and just Jongho.

You’re only mumbling “so fucking good. feels so good”, decorated by louder whines and moans. Jongho is complete entranced by you—the way you look so beautiful when being fucked, the way you’re whining, head only filled with him, him, him. He has never felt this feeling of possession before, and it’s almost addicting, especially when he’s balls deep into you.

“I’m cumming”, Jongho announces softly as he folds you, leaning in to give you a deep kiss, eating ever single moan, cry and praise that leaves your lips as your cunt flutters around his cock, and he paints your sore hole deep with his cum, whispering “I like you so much, y/n. I like you, I like you”, over and over, overlaying his broken moans.

The both of you stay on the floor like that for a moment, before he removes himself off you, but he doesn’t pull out yet. He stabilises himself, trying not to move you too much, so his cum doesn’t leak out onto the floor board (it still does), and carries you into the shower with him, you’re still recovering from your high.

Once in the bathroom, he pulls out of you slowly, and your hands slowly release from his neck. Jongho helps to clean you out and the both of you take the shower together, albeit in silence, which was anything but awkward.

You’re huddled on his chest, snuggled under the warm futons. For a guy who never really liked physical intimacy, he sure doesn’t seem to mind having you in his arms like this.

“How long did you like me?” You suddenly ask. Jongho turns to you.

“I think I only realised it recently. Like it came to me almost naturally. I realised I don’t think I could imagine myself being with anyone else other than you”, he replies. “You?”

You giggle at his answer.

“Yeah. I think it really came naturally”, you reply. “I love you, Jongho”.

His eyes are closed, as exhaustion lures him into slumber. But he slips a couple of words out.

“I love you too.”

[bonus—first encounter]

Freshman year, you were at a party, laughing and giggling with your friends at a comfortable corner. One of them asked you, “anyone caught your eye yet?” You rolled you eyes and said no.

“It’s barely a month in college and you’re already asking me that?” You questioned, taking a sip of your drink. Your friend shrugged with a smirk as she downs her drink, before excusing herself to use the washroom. She left you by yourself, not that you didn’t mind because you distracted yourself with your phone,

That was, until someone distracted you.

You look up at the male before you, priding a letterman jacket already. You don’t even remember his face now if you tried because all he did imprint on you was that he was an absolute creep, asking you for your number and attempting to make shitty small talk. You were darting your eyes, too tired and too annoyed to entertain him, only looking up at him for 0.4 seconds to plaster a fake smile before flickering your gaze to somewhere else as he continued to run his mouth.

“Are you here with anyone, pretty?”

Your wandering gaze ended up landing on a male, who, despite him being in a group of his own friends, didn’t seem to be talking. What luck, he wasn’t too far away from you either. He definitely heard everything.

Another fake smile plastered to the unknown and forgotten male before you, and your arms link to the other male beside you, as you pull him close to you. His eyes are blown in shock as he darted his gaze to the other male’s face, then to yours.

You don’t give him a chance to speak as you haphazardly link your fingers with the stranger beside you and lifted the intertwined hands with a smile. “With my boyfriend.”

The male before you scoffed and rolled his eyes before leaving the both of you alone. You were about to let go of his hand and curtly explain but then-

“You lying ass bitch!” You friend cackled as she pointed to your linked fingers. “I saw that shit. I though you weren’t dating anyone y/n?”

You were about to open your mouth to talk until you noticed the male staring daggers right at you. You inhaled, before wrapping your arm around his. The poor male being dragged in hasn’t even said a damn thing. “Yeah I am. That’s why I said no!”

You noticed that his friends were beginning to echo whispers as they glanced over at their friend as well.

She turned to him, and eyed him up and down. “What’s his name?”

You eyes meet his, and your heart pounded in your ears. Please, just play along, random stranger. At least until he’s not looking at me like that anymore.

The male beside you is the one who eyed you this time, and he seemed to have read your expression, albeit the whirlwind of confusion you thrusted him in. The side parting of his soft, brown hair blew gently under the shitty air conditioning, and his brown eyes stared back at you—at first in disbelief and confusion, before the switch to a hint of mischief. As he spoke, his gaze never left yours.

“Jongho. Choi Jongho.”

[moonstruckme]

feels odd being a marauder fan asking for tasm Peter content but i couldnt help myself <//3 if ur still taking requests id love to see ur take on Peter and the art students meet cute (or not so cute meeting) I always wondered how two vastly different people would even meet lol

Thanks for requesting gorgeous!

cw: mention of animal cruelty (not present in the story)

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 831 words

Peter wonders if he should put on his mask. 

He’s not really sure what the protocol is for non-mutant criminal activity that makes its way into his daily life. But he’d only been trying to lock up the lab for the night, and there you are, spray painting all over the glass panes dividing the workspaces. 

“Hey!” He decides to forgo the mask when you direct your can scary close to a container of samples. “Don’t do that, you’ll ruin them.” 

You turn slowly, tense all over. It’s a look Peter’s not unfamiliar with; fight and flight are warring in your nervous system. You’ve been caught. 

“No one’s still supposed to be here,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the painter’s mask covering your nose and mouth. 

A laugh bubbles out of him. “Oh, my bad. Sorry—actually, since I’m clearly the one breaking the rules, I’ll just go.” 

You remain frozen in place, seemingly waiting to see if he’s actually joking or not. Peter’s not sure what to do. He can’t just…let you continue to destroy the lab, but calling the cops has never been his MO. He crosses his arms and leans back against a table, doing his best to look in control. 

“What are you even doing?” he asks. 

“It’s…” You look around you as if you’d forgotten, to the glass now dripping gorily with red paint. “It’s about animal cruelty. It’s a protest. Do you have any idea,” you say, your voice picking up conviction as you speak, “how many animals die in these labs every day?” 

Peter blinks. “Not really.” It feels shitty to say, but it’s not like he’s around for every class and project that happens here every day; something like that would be impossible to keep track of. 

Your eyes flash. “Too many.”

“So, what?” He looks around, at the red dribbling down the glass panes—blood, that’s what it is—and your paint-spritzed overalls. “You make some maintenance worker have to clean this up tomorrow morning, and then the science department will decide to stop?” 

Your eyebrows bunch. You hadn’t thought of that. “I just want to bring attention to it,” you say. “I’ll come back and clean up if I need to, but I just—I think it’s important that people see it. That they can’t just keep ignoring it.” 

Peter frowns, bending to pick up one of the paint canisters stacked neatly by a backpack. He gives it a little shake, and this one’s still full, the pile it came from larger than the matching one of used-up cans by your feet. Your eyes track his movements, too smart to try and take it from him but attentive nonetheless. You’re watching him with this flaming intensity. There’s something quietly passionate about you, like you’re burning with an energy that would be almost frightening if it didn’t seem so heartfelt. 

“You realize there’s cameras all over this place, right?” he asks. “You could get kicked out of school. This is vandalism.” 

You don’t flinch. “It’s uncommissioned public art.” 

“You think they’ll see it that way?” 

You sigh heavily, and Peter wishes he could see what was going on behind that mask so he’d know what you were thinking. Thankfully for him, your eyes are expressive enough. They narrow as you cross your arms, jutting out a hip. 

“So what, are you going to go and tell someone?” 

Peter sizes you up. He can relate to feeling like you need to work outside of the system to get something done. To being sick of going to the proper authorities after being told too many times that while they really do care, they won’t do anything about it.

“How about this,” he says. “You let me stay here and make sure you don’t damage any of the equipment, and I won’t rat you out.” He might even scrub the camera footage once you go. But he’s still figuring you out, so he doesn’t want to make promises. 

“Deal,” you say immediately. If you’re surprised at his bargain, you don’t show it, only shaking the paint canister in your hand and starting to spray another layer of paint onto the glass. Your brows pinch slightly as you work, evidence of an assiduous concentration Peter is familiar with. 

He makes himself comfy in a rolling chair, sitting back to watch you work. “We actually do some really important stuff here, you know.” 

“I’m sure you do,” you say without pausing. “It’s not like I blame everyone you personally. I get that the research helps people, but, I mean, at what cost?” 

Peter shrugs. It’s a good point. “True. It’s a lot worse for animals in the big labs. We’re small-scale because we’re funded by the school, and we’re also responsible for reporting to the higher-ups.” 

“I know.” Your eyes flit to him, less wary than before. “But I don’t have access to one of the big labs. Change has to start somewhere, right?” 

You can certainly agree on that. 

[aesthetic-bbyg]

might I request 🫣

an Usopp x ditsy y/n where the reader is.. 𝑎ℎ𝑒𝑚, busty, to say the least, and always clings to him (sort of like how Nami does), albeit unaware that the behavior seems to always fluster him

And maybe they end up paired together when everyone splits up to fight someone or whatever, and Uso pulls them aside to hide, obviously, but in a bit of tight spot?

you can edit this however you like, thank you for reading!!

A DAMSAL IN DISTRESS - USOPP

usopp x ditzy,fem!reader

IN WHICH you can’t help but cling onto Usopp, he’s just so cute.

nattie speaks!: AHHHHH I’m so sorry for the wait, I felt so bad that this took way longer then expected so some parts were a bit rushed and a bit shitty🫣🫣. Also, I gave the reader this power, basically like a banshee, she screams and it’s a weapon. It’s only included in a small portion bc I wanted to stay close to what the anon requested!!

USOPP WASNT SURE IF HIS BAD habit of lying constantly was currently a blessing or a curse. You took interest in him after he’d rambled on about escaping the large beast of the sea, the Kraken. Since then you’ve been—he didn’t want to be rude and say obsessive, so..clingy. He’d somehow managed to capture you’re attention with his false stories. You nodded dumbly with big eyes as he dramatized yet another tale, waving his hands around like a maniac while you just giggled.

“Uh-huh, what after?” You leaned closer across the table curiously, your cheek falling to rest on the palm of your hand.

“Then, I took my sword and I sliced his ass from head to toe.” Usopp smirked triumphantly, sucking in a deep breath and releasing as he fell back against the chair. “And that’s the story of how I defeated the monster of the Blue Lagoon.”

“No way!” You gasped, eyes wide with such content, completely unaware of how close your tits were to spilling out of your top. Truth be told, Usopp had dragged out the story as long as possible to see the moment a nipple peaked out. He swallowed before he chuckled, eyes flickering between your bright smile and bouncing breast. “You’re so brave, Uso.” You stood from your seat, walking over to give him a peck on the cheek. “How ‘bout I go get food for my brave Captain, hmm?”

Usopp never nodded his head so quick, both out of being very hungry and because he needed a breather. You had made him so ridiculously flustered, he nearly forgotten to take in air with how close you were. The moment you footsteps faded to enter the kitchen he let out a large sigh. His senses struggling to regulate, all he could think about was you. The sticky gloss that clung to his skin, the sweet scent you left behind, the echo of your giggles in his mind.

He needed to get a grip before he literally exploded. The next few days to Arlong Park would be hell if he couldn’t learn to control himself when around you. But he just couldn’t figure out how it was possible to do that when you pranced around in such low cut shirts and tight bottoms. He didn’t have much time to think about it before you were back, holding two servings of food. You placed it on the large crate that laid between the two of you.

“What did Sanji make?” Usopp questioned, mustering up to the most normal smile he could give.

“Some sort of pasta, dunno, wasn’t really attention.” You shrugged casually, handing him a shimmering silver fork. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, you went unaware of the stolen glances Usopp took of you. He paid far too much attention to your features, especially your most prominent one..but he wouldn’t ever admit that.

You were close to opening your mouth and breaking the silence before Zoro came up, plopping a whiny Buggy between your plates.

“Usopps turn, I’m done.” The swordsman muttered annoyingly, walking away without another word.

“Hey—what!” Usopp shouted back to Zoro, his calls being ignored as the the blue-haired clown chuckled.

“Hiya, pal, nice to see you!” The clown exclaimed with an overly happy tone. “Tell me, have, have you boned pretty babe over here or wh—“

Usopp clamped his hand over the clown mouth, embarrassingly looking over at you, your eyes held an innocent confusion as you stood. “I’ll go ahead and take these to the kitchen, be back!”

Usopp nodded with a smile, waiting for you to be out of ear shot before uncovering Buggy’s mouth. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Shut up.” Usopp mumbled with a flushed face, hiding it by fiddling with his slingshot.

“Oh, c’mon, she’s totally into you and it super fuckin’ obvious in case you couldn’t already see.” The clown commented, “And, hey, I’m not one to give relationship in advice here but you should bone her—“

“Can you stop saying that.” The man snapped quietly as he noticed you approaching. You didn’t sit down, instead placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

“It’s getting dark, Uso, ya wanna head in?” You asked softly, eyes glowing curiously in the moonlight. You shared a space with Nami, but ever since she left you’d didn’t liked sleeping in that empty bed. Instead, you slept next to Usopp every night.

It came as a surprise at first. The midnight sky had caused a dark hue to blanket over the ship. The moon hidden behind indigo clouds, only a few strings of light guided you down to the boy’s chambers. You’d pushed Usopps door open, thankful that it didn’t creak loudly, and slowly entered. You footsteps patting against the hardwood floor, hands out in front of you to navigate the darkness until you felt a soft cushion. You peeled back the blanket and climbed in, without a care in the world except for finding some warmth.

Usopp had felt the bed shift, covers shuffling without him moving which is what caused him to fully awake. He panicked at first, not moving an inch as the person beside him got comfortable. It was until he felt you soft hands caress up his bicep, bare legs entangling with his own, then a sweet sigh that tickled his neck. After a few moments he heard nothing, just your deep breaths as he laid there, completely clueless on what to do. Should he hold you? But that would wake you again wouldn’t it? He chose to go to sleep and see what the next morning held.

And if Usopp wasn’t flustered enough already the next day he was practically dead. Your position had switched in the middle of the night, and so did his. Ass against his hips, his arm draped over your waist, and you back against his firm chest. He wasn’t sure how you two needed in this position but every morning now was like this.

Usopp determined that the best way to continue this routine was if Buggy’s head was shoved into a empty barrel and left there for the night.

“You better bone her if your leaving here—“ The clown angrily shouted before his voice was muffled by the lid sliding over the open top. Usopp let out a sigh, walking over to the sleeping quarters below deck where you’d already gone to get changed for bed.

Your head quirked up at the sound of his approaching footsteps, smiling softly at the sight of him. “We’re nearly there, Uso. It’s best that you get some sleep for the rest of the journey.”

Usopp nodded in agreement, removing his shirt like he always did before bed and climbing into the covers. You shouldn’t be so excited as you are each time you cuddle close to him. It shouldn’t be so rewarded to feel him so close to you as you drift to sleep. Usopp was suppose to be your fellow crew member and nothing more. Yet there was an undeniable feeling that made you cling to him. It made you giddy.

Unbeknownst to you, these feelings struck Usopp tenfold.

“LAND HO!” USOPP EXCLAIMED, ARM raising to point to a spec of land from afar. You lifted your head, squinting to see the bundled up islands from you spot. As you got closer it looked like nothing almost, and when the boat docked it was even worse. The small village looked abandoned, old homes falling apart and grey in color. Most of the plants around were dead, drained of their natural color. One home was even raised above the grown, ripped from the floor and left to rot mid air.

This is when things started to blur together. One moment, you watch in fear, clinging onto Usopps arms. He’s a brave warrior, you thought, surely he’d protect you against the strange atmosphere that this place brought. But the next you were sprinting into the woods, just behind Usopp as a fish man with strangely large lips chased after you.

It was a fight you had no idea on how to win. They were fishman, some of the strongest beings of the world, and here you were running away from one. Even worse, the fish with the huge lips was able to spit out fire with just a sip of his hard drink. There was more than enough evidence to prove that you were screwed.

The boy in front of you turned around, quickly tugging your arm and pulling close, ducked down, rolling to hide behind a fallen tree. You fell atop of Usopp, panting heavily as fishman’s spits barley flew over your head. All went quiet, weirdly quiet but you didn’t dare even blink loudly.

“Hey.” Usopp whispered as you lifted your head from his chest. “Ya think you can scream for me, pretty girl?” You swallowed thickly, nodding, the pure terror of the approaching footsteps muting your voice. “Then wait for my signal, ‘kay.”

Usopp shuffled from under, making it more comfortable for the both, well, mostly you. Being within such a close proximity of your soft skin made him nervous, no amount of comfort was able to calm his nerves. But he ignored the squeezable skin that pressed against his chest, ignored that your core that was hovering just above his dick, ignored the grip on his bicep. He looked at you, waiting for the right moment to give you the sign so the fishman went down once and for all.

You were terrified, that was for sure, but you mustered up some courage to pull the plan off. You felt a tap on your hand, causing to rise up and stare directly at the fishman. But before he could open fire you let out a ear piercing shriek. A wail so loud it launched the fish man backwards. Far enough so he was too distracted in getting up and gaining back his senses to realize that Usopp was sneaking in.

You watched, wide eyed as the fishman sat up, bottle still tightly in his clutch. Usopp loaded in his new invention into his slingshot and directly hit the alcohol. A loud explosion followed, smoke clearing to reveal a motionless fishman.

You laughed in a relief, standing up and slowly approaching the scene.

Usopp shouts in excitement, proudly chuckling at the sight of the smoking body laid motionless on the ground. “Yeah! Take that! The Great Captain Usopp fells yet another notorious villain!” He swallows back his heavy breaths, glancing around. “And..no one’s around to see it.”

“I saw it, Uso!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him with a giggle. The sheer force of your excitement gave you enough strength to drag him down into your chest. His whole face making contact with your tits while you rambled in content. “Just as brave as you tell in your stories! Gosh, I can’t wait tell everyone how you saved me.” You pull his head up, planting kisses along his cheeks.

The boy puffed his chest out pridefully, smirking despite the blush that littered his cheeks. “What can I say, a great Captain like me never fails to save a damsel in distress.” He hooked an arm around your waist, gazing down at you.

“A reward is much needed after this.” You Pat his chest, smiling softly with such a innocent yet antagonizing look. Without another word, you’d pulled away, waking back in the direction Arlong park.

Usopp stared at your fading figure with furrowed brows. “A reward?”

OMG THIS TOOK WAY TO LONG BUT I WAS LITERALLY GOING BACK ND FORTH W THIS FIC BC I FELT LIKE IT WAS SOO BAD. But I need to release smth so this is it!! I really hoped this lived up to the request, ik i added some of my own elements but ignore that🫣

(sucks dick coquettely)

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Two Heroes, No Capes

Summary: Y/N is in trouble, and she knows just who to call for help.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: TW descriptions of a physical assault, mugging, violence implied, injuries, fear and shock, some discussion regarding sexual assault (no sexual assault takes place, or is described, but I want to be extra careful of people's triggers.)

Pairings: No romantic pairing. Jensen Ackles x teen!reader, Jared Padalecki x teen!reader

Word Count: 1,686

A/N: I got a request from the dear @kayyay1219 :

Ok so I’ve been in a J2xteen!reader phases for a while and I can’t help but want another one. So, I was thinking that the reader was out in the city by herself and she gets assaulted by a group of guys and she calls Jared and Jensen for help. So they come to her rescue and they see how bad her injuries are and they take her home and help her clean up.

So, this was what I came up with. I'm so sorry this took SO long to get to you hon! I hope you think it was worth the wait. ❤️

A/N 2: As always, this story is about a Jensen and Jared from a different part of the multiverse and doesn't reflect anything to do with their real life. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

The beautiful dividers below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

The fear was still pumping in her veins, the relentless throb making the newly formed bruises hurt a little more. Y/N raised her hand, and brushed her fingertips across the gash above her eyebrow. When she pulled her hand away and saw the blood dripping from her fingers, her panic increased.

A rational, calming voice floated into her wildly careening mind, speaking softly, deep and soothing.

It's okay, princess, head wounds bleed a lot, it's probably not as bad as it seems. 

She nodded absently to the voice and tried to take an inventory of what was hurting. Her head was pounding, a result of being punched in the face twice, no doubt, but she’d also smacked the back of it on the concrete when they'd pushed her backwards.

Probably a concussion, the voice told her. 

Her ankle was badly sprained, she knew, from when she'd tried to sprint away from them and lost her footing in one of the cracks criss-crossing the alley. Her body felt like one big bruise from where their fists had pummeled her as she struggled against them. She’d struggled, but they won - holding her down and taking her purse, her jewelry, and her new, expensive leather jacket. She breathed deeply and then grimaced in pain; she also thought she might have a broken rib.

Okay, princess, the voice said quietly, reassuringly, time to call for help.

Suddenly it was obvious to Y/N that the calm, caring voice in her head belonged to Jensen. Of course. She'd call the boys. One of them would likely be free to come help her. 

She dialed Jensen's number, glad the thieves hadn't taken her phone from her jeans pocket. It was a shitty old thing, they probably hadn't thought it was worth the bother. 

It rang twice before he picked up. 

"Hey, darlin'. Need a ride into work? I know night shoots suck." He asked, a smile in his voice. 

"No…don’t need a ride." Her voice was a croak, as tears and fear clogged it. Jensen heard immediately.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

"I need…I had…something happened. These guys, they jumped me…I didn’t notice them. I need someone to…I need help."

She heard Jensen's voice move away from the phone slightly as he called out.

"Jared! It's Y/N, she's hurt, come on!"

He spoke into the receiver again. "Hey, baby, everything's okay now." She actually smiled slightly; his voice was exactly as it had sounded in her head 

"Just tell us where you are, and we'll be there right away."

“I’m in the…the alley beside my building.” She looked down at herself and the dirt and blood that stained the white tank top and jeans she wore. “I’m bleeding, and they…they wrecked my shirt, they tore it.”

Jensen’s voice became softer. “It’s okay, Y/N, we're in the car now. We’re less than 5 minutes away. Jared’s calling the police; do you need an ambulance?”

Y/N shook her head before realizing that Jensen couldn’t hear her head shake. “No.” She said.

Her teeth began to chatter and her whole body began to vibrate as shock took over. “I don’t want…don’t wanna go to the hospital. I’m…I just want to go home. I can’t…I don’t think I can walk on my own, my ankle is…and my head’s…I’m kinda dizzy.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t try to move on your own. We’re so close now.” As he said it, Y/N could hear the screech of tires a block away as Jensen’s pickup truck squealed around the corner of her street and headed towards her block. 

She heard doors open and slam shut, and seconds later, Jensen and Jared loomed large, solid and reassuring at the entrance to the alleyway, silhouetted against the streetlights behind them. She sighed first, and then started crying.

They were here; she was safe.

They ran towards where she sat in the middle of the alley, skidding to a stop beside her and crouching down. The light in the alley was terrible, but Jensen did a quick sweep with his hands to see if anything seemed broken, while Jared held her gently, allowing her tears to seep into his t-shirt.

Seemingly reassured that there were no broken bones, Jensen scooped her up and carried her to her apartment. When they finally had her settled on her couch, with the lights shining bright overhead, she watched the fury bloom on their faces as they got their first good look at her injuries. 

“Who did this to you?” Jared asked as he sat down beside her and took her hand in his.

Jensen answered, his voice chillingly cold.. “Dead men. Dead men did this.” 

Jared shook his head. “Jensen.” He said warningly. “That’s not helping.”

Jensen’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he took a deep breath. “You’re right. Killing them can wait.” 

He walked away and returned a half minute later with a first aid kit and a cold cloth. He ran the cloth incredibly gently across her forehead and cheeks, and the coolness felt wonderful against her throbbing skin. They both spoke softly and reassuringly, and Y/N just let their words flow into her, and calm her racing heart and shaking limbs.

As the boys took turns using the first aid kit to tend to the cuts and bruises across her face, Jared seemed like he was working up to saying something. Finally he looked at Jensen and shook his head. In their usual silent communication, Jared seemed to be passing the conversation to Jensen. Y/N was curious what they were trying to say, so she finally just grabbed Jared’s hand where he was cleaning the particularly deep gash above her eyebrow.

“What is it?” She asked, worried her injuries were more dangerous than she’d thought. Maybe she should go to the hospital.

Jensen answered; he was on his knees in front of where she sat on the couch, but he still had to duck his head a bit, to be able to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“Baby, you said…earlier…” 

He took a breath, and tried again. “Sweetheart, you know nothing you say will change how much we love you, and we’ll…we’ll do whatever you need us to do.”

Y/N nodded; she did know that. From the moment she’d shown up on the set of Supernatural, the boys had taken her underwing like protective fathers, and even welcomed her into their homes happily, treating her as simply another member of their busy, beautiful families. They were the protectors and champions she’d always wanted, but had never been lucky enough to have. She trusted them and their love for her completely.

“So…” Jensen continued. “You said that, when I was talking to you before, you said that there was a group of people. They were guys?”

Y/N nodded.

“And you said…” Jensen gritted his teeth again harshly. “You said that they’d…ruined your shirt…tore it? Baby.” He pulled her shirt together where it was torn at the neck. “Baby, did they…hurt you?” At first Y/N was confused. Of course they hurt her, she was bruised and bleeding. But then she heard the way he put emphasis on the word “hurt”, and realized what kind of hurt he meant. 

She turned red, and shook her head quickly, looking at her lap and ignoring the way her skull ached. “No. I mean…no, they didn’t…didn’t hurt anything that won’t heal. They tore my shirt when they were grabbing and ripping at my necklace.”

Her eyes went wide and then filled with tears as she turned to Jared. “The necklace you got me for Christmas. They took it.”

“Oh, darlin’, don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” Jared said as he pulled her head gently against his shoulder. 

Just then a knock came to the door. For the next half hour Jared and Jensen sat beside her as she gave a tearful accounting of the whole incident to the police officers who crowded into her small living room. They acted like twin pillars of strength, helping her through, and lending her their bravery when she needed it. 

Finally, the police left, advising that she go to the hospital because of her head injuries. The boys agreed and then, when she said again that she really didn’t want to go, they insisted.

Finally she caved, and within the hour she was admitted for observation at St. Francis Memorial. The boys stayed with her all night. Y/N dozed from time to time, but the nurses came in regularly to wake her up and ask her simple questions like where she was born or how to spell her name, just to make sure her concussion wasn’t getting worse. 

Whenever Y/N was awake, the boys would regale her with stories from when they were kids, stories from set, stories about their own kids. She had to keep telling them not to make her laugh so much - she had bruised ribs. 

When the morning came, and the doctors were satisfied with her test results and with the results of the CT Scan they’d done the night before, she was discharged and the boys took her home. By the time she got there, she was exhausted beyond belief. So, they simply tucked her up in her bed, and then pulled up chairs to sit beside her.

“You guys don’t have to stay.” She said with a deep yawn. “You must be exhausted too.”

They both raised their feet onto the bed beside her and leaned back in the chairs. “Yeah,” Jensen answered, “but we’re good here.”

Y/N considered arguing against their overprotectiveness, but admitted to herself that she needed it right now. So, she simply smiled at them, and snuggled deeper into her soft pillows and cozy blanket.

“Love you guys.” She said sleepily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it kiddo.” They said together. 

Love it when they talk at the same time, she thought to herself with a smile as she drifted off to a peaceful sleep, knowing she was completely safe, with her heroes so nearby.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[lenaboskow]

I’m a greedy greedy bitch🫡

💀⛪️🔍❤️ por favor <333

mazzy you know i'm in love with you but i also despise you for forcing me to write so suffer <3 (i skipped to that scene in the 5+1 fic specifically for you :) ) but also i'm in love with you so there's two fluff pieces to go with it

💀--

"But it’s very likely… we might never find him, Buck. They think he fell down too deep. The cliff he fell off of opened up into a ravine, and there’s no safe way to go down there. Based on the way the rubble fell, and the fact that they’ve searched the rest of the cave…”

Buck felt like his chest had been ripped open and his heart removed, stabbed 27 times, and replaced with a shitty stitch job. It hadn’t even been a week, and they were giving up?

⛪️--

“Why are you here?” Christopher asked as Buck grabbed the ingredients necessary. 

“I told you, I thought I’d surprise my favorite Diaz with some Saturday morning pancakes. His dad can have some too, I guess.”

“Then why didn’t you stay here last night instead of going back to your apartment? Seems kind of redundant.”

“Oh, that’s a big word, where’d you learn that?” Buck asked, trying to steer the conversation to safer territory. “I know it wasn’t your dad.”

“Hey, excuse you, I have an amazing vocabulary,” Eddie said, appearing in the doorway. He had a towel in his hand and was rubbing his hair dry. Buck rolled his eyes.

🔍--

Three minutes and seventeen seconds. That’s how long Buck was down before they brought him back. Three minutes and seventeen seconds without Evan Buckley in the world, and Eddie didn’t know how to cope with that. 

He’d been the one to start his heart again, and there was probably some poetic drabble that could be made out of that fact, but he didn’t care. Not when he’d felt Buck’s ribs break beneath his hands in doing so. Not when he thought about the fact that he was too emotionally unstable (apparently) to have ridden in the back of the ambulance and get his hands on him sooner, instead being forced to drive.

❤️-- continuation of this

“That– wish I could’ve been there,” he replied, startled by the pet name. If Buck noticed, he didn’t say anything, and continued on with his story. Eddie wasn’t going to say anything with Hen and Chim sitting there, and especially not with Bobby sitting in the front, so he made a mental note to bring it up when they were alone again. 

Too bad someone said the “q” word (not that Eddie believed in that stuff), and they were dead on their feet by the time they got back, causing Eddie to forget about the instance until it happened again.

[plushie-sentai]

King Ohger Drinking Headcanons

Made a little list earlier in reply to @stickers-on-a-laptop but then got carried away in my free time at work and did a whole bunch so. Have fun! I love liquor and spirits (in like. A ooh yummy this is cool bartender way and not in a I love getting drunk way) so this was honestly rlly fun to write!

Character headcanons below the cut with some little stories hidden inside lol

Sorry I’m too lazy to fix the formatting I might do it later lol

⁃ Gira isn’t accustomed to drinking, he’s young and was used to being at the orphanage all the time anyways. When he does drink with the kings he either opts for something nonalcoholic like a glass of sparkling cider or whatever someone hands him. Kaguragi likes to mess with him and give him cocktails that he SAYS aren’t alcoholic but… definitely are. (Kagu learned the hard way the first time he messed with him like this that Gira is a lightweight and ended up taking care of him overnight in Shuggodam’s castle. The only person who knows is Douga since Gira doesn’t remember and Kagu refuses to admit he felt bad about the incident or that it even happened)

⁃ Yanma - drinks watered down bud light ass beer for the longest time. He doesn’t like it, but it’s what his mentor drank and he thinks it makes him look cool. That, and it’s cheap. This is all he drinks until Himeno buys everyone a round of her favorite cocktail of the week and he realizes he REALLY likes sweet stuff. He orders fruity drinks all the time “for shiokara” but if you watch carefully they’re always sharing it and he never finishes more than one shitty beer anymore. Kaguragi hasn’t told him abt craft beer and ipas yet but he knows it’ll rock his world. Absolutely forgot to add that if Yanma DOES order a cocktail for himself openly it’ll always be a jack and coke.

⁃ Himeno - Drinks fancy cocktails all day everyday. They’re usually very sweet, sometimes extra dry depending on the mood, and she loves anything with champagne, but despite how they look they’re always a higher percentage than anything the other kings are drinking. She also loves a good wine and savors any sommelier knowledge she receives from Sebastian, Cleo, Elegance, and of course Jeramie. Her dinner parties are always coupled with tasteful optional drinks planned to fit the meal. At least once she has a drinking contest with Kaguragi and absolutely drinks him under the table to everyone’s surprise (except sebas)

⁃ Rita - Rita also doesn’t drink much, as they aren’t a fan of being drunk around others and certainly don’t enjoy the mood that comes with drinking alone, but once they’re closer with the other kings (especially Himeno, as she and Morphonia get Rita to try all kinds of new things together) they branch out into drinking here and there. More often than not, you’ll find Rita at a king celebration nursing a glass of sake, a Smokey whiskey, or some very expensive vodka on the rocks. Don’t knock it till you try it in the cold of gokkan.

⁃ Kaguragi - Kaguragi of course drinks anything hand crafted from Toufu. His favorite are the Nigori sake and Daiginjo Junmai sake made from the Suzume’s tears rice. Of course, he’s also a big fan of mead! He does enjoy a good craft beer on the occasion, and will often drink whatever Himeno is serving at her dinners, even if it’s not his usual taste. He’s just happy to be included and have an opportunity to mess with the others a little given he has the highest tolerance out of anyone other than Himeno and Suzume and finds himself getting more tipsy while the others are already fully drunk.

⁃ Jeramie - Jeramie LOVES wine. He’s been drinking it for a long time and even has some bottles that he found in his mothers things that he’s never opened (that in my heart him and Gira share at their wedding). He tends to drink a rose or any white wines as he’s cautious of spilling red wine onto his suit, but he does love a nice sweet red blend too. Whenever he goes wine shopping in the different kingdoms he brings a bottle of his favorite reds to Himeno as a gift.

⁃ Racles - Big baby with alcohol. Never drank much due to fear of letting down his guard around others. Will drink whatever Suzume gives him but mostly refuses drinks from others even after the end of the story. When he does drink, he loves Suzume’s Nigori sake or a small glass of orange blossom mead. He does his best to be the “DD” for Gira (or whoever else needs it really but he always says he’s only there for Gira) Is a very loving and silly drunk the few times he has been and always gets snuggly with Gira (familially obviously), Suzume, and Kaguragi. Gira gets a bit embarrassed but always welcomes it happily, and suzu and kagu LOVE the attention and a chance to mess with him.

⁃ Douga - douga doesn’t like to drink a lot since he works a lot, but Gira tries to make sure he and his family are invited to celebrations where douga may partake in the occasional light beer (typically whatever Kaguragi brings bc he knows it’s always good). He used to drink a decent amount when he was younger so he tries to gently help Gira make sure he isn’t gonna over do it�� Gira does accidentally anyways frequently lol

⁃ Kogane and Boone obviously don’t drink alcohol but Gira still makes them Shirley temples all the time as a treat (my sister used to make them for me when we had sibling sleepovers and watch mean girls so this is mostly for me lol)

⁃ Shiokara usually drinks fruity cocktails because he enjoys sour stuff and sodas, which he now usually ends up sharing with Yanma while he poses like he’s still drinking just his shitty beer. Shiokara is also a lovey dovey drunk, but no one is surprised since he’s also like this when he’s sober. Shio is also often a caretaker after parties, even if he himself is drunk, and finds himself helping with clean up and getting people home hydrated and safe, despite usually needing a place to crash himself (hopefully into yanmas arms-)

⁃ Sebastian doesn’t drink super often as he’s worried he wouldn’t be able to keep up appearances as an older gentleman, but when he’s with just the kings or just the ishibana squad, he doesn’t mind letting the veil drop. He’s unexpectedly a bit of a flirty drunk, but knowing this he’ll usually remove his makeup before drinking just so he doesn’t accidentally creep anyone out. Even regardless of that he’s still very aware and occasionally charmingly over-careful about people’s boundaries. He usually drinks whatever he is helping to prepare for Himeno as it’s what’s available, but his favorite is Spumante champagne.

⁃ Cleo - Cleo is a conniseur of all things ishibanan, her favorites being cocktails made with crème de violette and/or white chocolate crème liquor. She doesn’t get drunk often unless she’s having a girls night with elegance and Himeno (and sometimes sebas), but when she is she somehow ends up very quiet and only speaks to either give the wisest advice you’ve ever heard or something just completely unintelligible to anyone but her.

⁃ Elegance doesn’t drink pretty much unless Cleo does, so they’re about on par there. They like to share drinks with each other on occasion so they can try everything sebas and the chef came up with for a meal or party. The first time she drinks with the other kings however they learn that she used to be a bit of a partier when she was younger and always has stories to tell about this time. Yanma (and sometimes Kagu) like to challenge her to arm wrestling but they pretty much always lose. Yanma definitely always loses.

⁃ Morphonia may have started drinking when she was a teen (just for shits n giggles) but she still has a laughably low tolerance. She tried once to drink whatever Rita’s drinking but that night… did not end well. Not that she didn’t appreciate being waited on by Himeno and Rita themselves. She’s honestly a fan of the light beers Yanma never seems to finish, and she thinks the fact he won’t admit he hates them is funny, so she drinks them for him whenever he leaves one open. I don’t think Yanma ever notices it’s her drinking them, lol. She loves to party, but she’s a very chill drunk, and definitely prefers an edible to a glass of anything.

⁃ Kuroko - will typically have the first glass out of any bottle opens for Kaguragi, mostly for safety, but he tends to enjoy the same as him other than will prefer to have beer more often than any spirit. Doesn’t drink a lot because he likes to stay on guard for Kaguragi (though he usually doesn’t need it lol)

⁃ Suzume CAN outdrink Kaguragi, and is pretty evenly matched with Himeno, but often prefers to pretend to get drunk so she can pull pranks or gossip or do whatever scheme she has her heart set on. She also loves a good Suzume’s tears nigori sake, and will occasionally partake in an edible when offered by morf. The few times she does get genuinely drunk, she almost seems exactly the same and lucid?? People are very confused by this lol

⁃ Gerojim, like other bugnarak, have “strange taste” when it comes to liquor. His favorite drinks, on the rare occasion that he feels comfortable to partake, are VERY light absinthe cocktails with a lot of sugar, a bugnarak-made kelp liquor (yes it exists irl), and buganarak algae beer (which also exists, tho very little of it lol. A French brand made some in 2022 and it’s BLUE). Despite his size, he is definitely a lightweight, and is very careful about how much he drinks as alcohol tends to have a bit of an aphrodisiac-like effect on bugnarak and gerojim gets very embarrassed about his behavior during previous fun-times. (note: this is based in studies showing that rejected male flies may turn to alcohol when offered combined with a cursory glance at articles about alcohol creating pheromone signals in fruit flies as well. No promises that this is perfectly accurate but I think it’s fun LOL)

⁃ Dethnarak tends to avoid alcohol, as he both doesn’t enjoy most of it but also is uncertain as to the effect it may have on him in larger quantities.Some worm-descending bugnarak are incapable of getting drunk and find health benefits to drinking it, and others are highly sensitive to it and can do major damage to their nervous systems when partaking. If he drinks at all, it’s usually a glass of expensive smoked mezcal tequila on the rocks. (See again cursory google search at the effect alcohol can have on earth worms, also the joke of worms being in mezcal lol)

⁃ Iroki, Nephila, and Karras have girls nights in hakabaka whenever they feel like having a little fun. Given its hakabaka, they can really have whatever they want, but iroki tends towards a very sharp Namazake sake like she drank made from the rice grown by the dybowskis, nephila a deep dry red wine like an aged Cabernet Sauvignon, and karras a nice bourbon brûlée like she’d have to keep warm and cozy in gokkan. They get as pleasantly drunk as they wish, no matter how much they drink. Their nights are always fun and maybe… occasionally involve some spice.

⁃ Akka likes a good IPA and will often bring a case of somethin new to try to hang outs with the nkosopa gang. He doesn’t drink a lot in general and tends not to get drunk just by preference.

⁃ Mayuta LOVES coming up with new fruity and sour cocktails with shiokara, but also really loves a good IPA like Akka since he keeps bringing them to hang outs. She gets tipsy at parties but isn’t crazy about being drunk either. She just likes to have fun :)

⁃ Asuba drinks a lot of seltzer drinks, basically whatever nkosopas version of white claws and trulys are. He’s happy to drink whatever Yanma and shio are supplying as long as it’s not his shitty watery beer, though. He likes a good party and drinks a decent amount while gaming with the rest of the squad. He’s definitely a goofy/clumsy drunk, telling a lot of jokes but tripping over his words and himself.

⁃ Bonus: Grub! - grub kinda drinks whatever’s put in front of him and has a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance. A lot of people think he’s a bit of a pothead but he doesn’t actually smoke or do edibles as he’s not a fan of feeling high. He can be a bit of a sad drunk, so he’s grateful to have a higher tolerance to keep himself in check, but he’s still a big softie caretaker at heart and will help clean up after parties with shiokara if he’s sober enough to do so, otherwise he tends to fall asleep easily past a certain point and he’s a VERY heavy sleeper lmao. His favorite drinks are margaritas and lemon drop shots, anything sour!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for remaining pokemon go friends with a horrible person?

So I (20F) was friends with “Emma” (not her real name) (20F) for about 2 years, when we met in our freshman year of college. In this time she was�� not always the best person (for reasons irrelevant to the story) but all of our mutual friend group liked her, and I did consider her a good friend. And a thing that we bonded over greatly was our shared love of pokemon go. We were pokemon go friends, sent each other gifts every day on it, the whole thing.

Now about two years into our friendship, Emma did something absolutely horrible and unforgivable to one of our other mutual friends, “Gabby” (also a fake name) (20F). I won’t detail it here for both my privacy and respect for Gabby’s privacy, but it was pretty much the most horrible thing you can think of. The whole friend group cut her off for this, as did I obviously. But I didn’t unfriend her on pokemon go (pogo from now on), because we were so close to the highest friendship tier and I wanted the XP reward for reaching it. So even though I’ve blocked her on everything else, I’ve continued sending her a pogo gift every day, and she sends one back too. I haven’t stopped because now since we’re the highest friendship level the gifts I get from her have really good items. (For people who haven’t played pogo, to clarify, the gifts are free to send, so I’m not sending them to her at any personal expense or at the expense of a different pogo friend). It has been a year since I cut her off and I still send them daily when I send them to everyone else. I only recently re-realized it was her who was still on my friend list at all, and that’s what made me start to worry if it makes me an AH if I continue to do it.

I think I might be the asshole bc even though it’s a free tiny thing, it helps her progress slightly in the game, and it may be seen as condoning her actions to give her even fake “gifts”. But I also think I may not be the asshole because it’s such a small stupid thing to fret about, and it’s not like I’ve told Gabby (or any of my other friends for that matter) this, so what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her? It’s likely Emma forgets it’s even my account she’s friends with. So, AITA for being pogo friends with, and sending gifts to, someone who I cut off for being a shitty friend to me and doing something horrible to our mutual friend?

What are these acronyms?

[umbrellalavender]

Umbrella Academy spoilers:

I’ve just finished the show.

I’m balling my eyes out on my sofa. Yet at the same time I feel so emotionally numb.

I enjoyed this season so much!

I don’t know if the ending was satisfying or not. I just don’t know. It made me feel something.

I was singing along to I Think We’re Alone Now just crying at the end. And I was screaming seeing all the characters back. And when Gabriel Bà was in it! (It might have been better if I watched it yesterday, considering that’s the day Pogo said?)

There were some moments that just really hit! Lila sending her family off to another timeline knowing that she’s going to have to sacrifice herself. Her and Allison knowing that their children aren’t going to have parents. And just seeing them on the field all happy made me cry so much.

I hate to admit that I wasn’t satisfied with Ben’s ending. I thought it would be a bit more emotional, but it just kind of sucked that he didn’t get that time with the others at the end. The effects when he was turning just made me laugh as well. Ben’s my favourite so I’m annoyed he didn’t get that time.

Also, I do kind of ship Ben and Jennifer. I’m not that familiar with MCR lore, but they remind me of the demolition lovers. When I think about them, I think about the ending of I Never Told You What I Do for a Living, “And never again, and never again, they gave us to shots to the back of the head and we’re all dead now.”

Umbrella Ben’s death hit me so hard! I was expecting this really emotional moment, but the lack of emotions in it really made it.

One: Ben was sent on this mission despite not wanting to go.

Two: They were made to blow up something with a living being inside. Ben didn’t want to blow up someone.

Three: Reginald shot Jennifer and his own son with no remorse what so ever. In front of his siblings!

Four: Ben and Jennifer’s body being the title card felt so brutal!

Five: Reginald wiped their minds so they wouldn’t remember what even happened to their own brother.

Six: He put the blame on his siblings! And gave that utterly shit eulogy! Somehow, that funeral scene found a way to become even more shitty, which is quite impressive!

Honestly, I think this was the best way to do it. There are so many questions around it too. Was Pogo aware of what happened? Was Ben? I get the idea that Umbrella Ben remembers being shot, but he probably wouldn’t know who killed him. Ben wouldn’t know that his siblings didn’t know?

I love Abigail and Reginald! It took me by surprise that Abigail was responsible for this and that she wanted the opposite to what Reggie wanted. Reggie had done all this to bring her back and she wanted to end it all. In a way, Reginald is quite similar to the children with his motivations and it really shines through this season. Colm Feore plays him so well! He’s funny and detestable at the same time.

I also really enjoy the subway system! I think it was a really cool way to show them travelling through timelines.

This might be controversial, but I enjoyed the Five and Lila situation. I’ve seen quite a lot of hate for it. But it made an interesting dynamic when they got back. And it also makes sense for the characters. They had been stuck jumping through timelines for 7 years.

I love that there are quite a lot of comic references in here. A small one is that I recognised who Jennifer was before her name was revealed because her name badge was the same design as the comics. Pretty proud of myself for that one!

But mostly that Klaus got to have his Hotel Oblivion story arc (it is Hotel Oblivion, right).

I have calmed down a little bit after writing this. It really feels like the end, you know? There’s no easy way to just bring the characters back in my mind and I don’t like that. I feel like after every season, I just feel smaller and smaller because of how many timelines they introduce. And this one is the same. It does a much better job at making me feel small. I still feel like there are many mysteries, which would be fun to delve into fanfiction for!

So, yeah. Long ramble about season 4. I enjoyed this season so much. And this show has meant a lot to me over the years. I can’t believe it’s over.

[e-to-the-v]

I’m on a journey of figuring stuff out about myself and well I need somewhere to vent.

For a long couple of years, my siblings have suggested over and over that I might be gay. And frankly, I don’t know if I am. To me saying if I’m gay or not feels like, and this is a crazy comparison, it feels like self diagnosing, which I never want to do. I’d much rather someone tell me what I am, but I have to figure that out myself. In the last year or so I’ve narrowed it down to thinking that I’m either pan or aro. But in the last 2 days of self reflection, I think I’m aro.

Where that thought comes from is that I think I accidentally went on a date? I got asked to lunch by a boy I was pretty sure I was just friends with and I’m 90% sure he thought it was a date, which is bad for me because I don’t like him like that. And not only do I not like him like that, I don’t think I have romantically liked some one since I was 10 (and even then might’ve been a misunderstanding of feelings). Like I haven’t even liked fictional characters in a romantic way, and I don’t understand when people like them either.

In high school, I was never in a relationship and only really went on 1 date with someone and I’ve only verbally been told that someone had feelings for me once. I think part of me just feels so unloveable and that no one would ever be able to like me romantically, so it would be very odd if someone did. I also can’t pick up on any signals (i.e. I have a lot of anxiety and easily obsessive over things, so I try not dig to deep into intent behind peoples actions), and need to be outright said that something is a date or that there’s feelings so I believe it, so I might be just missing if someone did like me, but oh well.

There’s only two times in the recent past that I’ve ‘liked’ someone and I think both can be pretty written off. The first was my junior year of high school, there was a girl in one of my classes that I thought was really cool. I don’t think I actually liked her, I think I just wanted to be her friend really badly and couldn’t place those feelings. The second time was near the end of my senior year, I went to prom with some boy I ran in the same circles as but had never really talked to. My friend, who was good friends with him, made it seem that he had a crush on me, and it made me sort of obsess over him. I became hyper aware of everything surrounding him. I think I just got attached to the idea someone could like me and obsessed over the possibility, but I don’t think I ever really liked him.

So why do I think I’m aro? Well I don’t like most romantic actions. I think kissing is gross, I don’t love being touched by most people, I see a interactions that could be perceived as romantic as platonic, and I don’t see myself ever being in a romantic relationship.

Am I asexual? That a great question, I do not know. It’s a high likelihood that I am, but I am just too inexperienced to fully conclude that. The reason that I’m not completely sure is the fact that I have consumed sexual content, but I’ve never read it in a sense of it relating to me. Like I don’t reasonably see why someone would want to have sex. To me it feels like a fictional concept, and solely something made up for stories. That way of thinking might also come from the fact that I grew up religious and sex wasn’t a open topic.

For years what I wanted from a romantic relationship was just someone who was so deeply in love with me and now that I realize that it’s actually a possibility, I don’t think I want that. I think what I really wanted deep down, was the validation that people like me and want me around. I wanted someone who would pick me first, and make me their favorite person. I had some really shitty friends (and some medium shitty parents) that just lead me to believe that I would never be a main person to someone, that I’d always just be a background friend. I have since gotten some better friends. I have people who genuinely like me for me, people who like my little quirks, people who I can tell about the silly fan fiction I wrote or the show I’m invested in and it’s honestly one of the greatest things. I think I’ve realized that romantic love doesn’t have to be the most important thing in my life and it feels great to know that.

And who knows maybe one day someone will come along and just be someone to be my best friend and nothing more and we live as each others main priority, but I’m not at that stage yet. For now I just get to be a college girl who figures out that no, I don’t want to be romantically involved with someone and that it’s okay to say that.

[ihadtomakethisaccount]

this might be controversial but i feel like there’s nowhere near enough nuance in the discussion about the good omens “leak.” it seems to be either “this is so heartbreaking and awful and any fan who reblogs the leak is terrible” or “neil should have seen this coming and he has no reason to complain.”

like on one hand, it’s technically not a leak. like the official amazon page revealed it, it’s technically promo more than a leak or a spoiler. fans reblogging the picture aren’t doing anything wrong cause it’s technically official information and they’re not doing it to spite neil like some people are insinuating. they’re just happily involved in the fandom and had no idea how unhappy neil was about it. he himself has even said he doesn’t blame the fans who are excited and reposting. guilt tripping fans who are spreading the picture is just shitty behaviour

on the other hand, i do think neil should have been consulted as someone so involved in the show and adaptation. this book clearly means a lot to him considering he made it with his late friend and has made the show essentially as a gift for him. while he’s not that involved in promo in general, i do think amazon took advantage of him being on strike and not really being allowed to do anything involved with shows unless he wants to break his strike, which he clearly doesn’t. this is also the type of thing that i think amazon is releasing so they can pull more viewers in and i’m not sure how much they actually care about how the writers wanted the story told. and my personal opinion is that i would rather have experienced this moment as it happened in the show, not as something to anticipate. for me personally it would feel better done and maybe more special to see it happening in the moment. now i’ll just be sitting around bracing for it to happen. i think people have every right to be annoyed this was revealed so ahead of time

i understand both perspectives so i have no idea where to settle my opinion so this is me trying to explain how i feel in regards to both arguments. if i’m wrong on any information please let me know just be polite i’m not trying to say any opinion is wrong cause i don’t think any opinions actually are

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Twenty-Seven

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 6987

Harry stared at me, waiting for me to continue. I sat there with my mouth open, unable to speak.

“Baby...please?” He took my hands and rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs, but his eyes never left mine.

“I’m scared, Harry,” I finally admitted.

“About what?”

“That if...if I tell you the truth...how I really feel...you won’t want me anymore.”

“How could I not want you, Stacey? I mean, unless you’re gonna tell me you don’t love me-”

“No,” I shook my head. “No, I love you. I most certainly love you, Harry.”

“Then what is it, baby? Please, don’t be scared with me. Whatever it is, we can work through it together.”

I looked down at our joined hands and felt a tear drop from my eye. I felt another coming and went to wipe it, but Harry held onto me, so the tear fell on my arm. When the third dropped however, Harry let go of one of my hands and wiped my cheek with his thumb.

“Talk to me,” he urged again, his green eyes so sincere.

“I guess I...I didn’t exactly realize how we were living in a bubble until it burst.”

Harry blinked, trying to understand my words. “You mean after the paps and the press got word of you?”

“Not just that,” I shrugged. “Although that’s part of it.”

“I tried to explain, love, that’s part of who I am. It’s not going away as long as I’m...doing what I’m doing.”

“Yes, and I understand that,” I sniffled with a nod. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. It might take some getting used to, but I think I could handle it.”

“Then...I don’t get it. What’s the matter?”

I felt the tears threatening to fall again, but I blinked several times and swallowed them back. With a shaky breath, I continued.

“Do you like kids, Harry?”

Harry raised his brows. “What?”

“I mean...I know I’ve seen photos of you with kids. Some younger fans, friends’ babies. You’ve met mine and were really sweet to them. But...do you really truly like kids?”

Harry shifted his gaze away from me, then gave an incredulous nod and shrug. “Yeah. I do. Kids are great. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I have kids, Harry. I have two. And they are everything to me.”

“Of course they are,” he agreed. “They’re wonderful, and you’re a wonderful mum.”

Letting a deep breath out through my nose, I hesitated. “I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest before.”

“When?” asked Harry.

“When I had that heart-to-heart talk with your mother.”

Harry frowned. “The baggage comment? She told me she apologized, that she hadn’t meant it the way you took it.”

“I know,” I nodded. “At first, I was hurt by the comment. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right.”

“Stacey…” he said, reaching for me, but I resisted.

“Please. Hear me out. You wanted me to talk.”

With a sigh, Harry sat back in his chair, his expression different from when we’d started the conversation. He looked worried, but also a bit perturbed.

“I agree, maybe the baggage comment was a bad choice of words,” I continued. “But what she told me later made a lot of sense to me. She mentioned how when you and your sister were young and she was single, it was important to find someone willing to accept the fact that she was a mother. My kids and me, we’re a package deal, Harry.”

“I get that,” he held out his arms as though to show defeat.

“As far as that bubble goes,” I said, “I was happy floating along in it with you. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t really worrying about my kids. That sounds shitty hearing it out loud, but it’s true. It’s not that I didn’t care, but I was being selfish. Now…”

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. Harry fidgeted in his seat.

“Now?” he asked.

“Now that the bubble has burst, I’m scared. Like I said, it’s not just you and me anymore. And it’s not just the paparazzi or Jeff or your band or any of your friends. My kids are my life, and you are my life. But I don’t know if…”

I trailed off again when I felt my body tremble. I started to sob, my shoulders shaking. I held my face in my hands, unable to look at Harry. I was afraid of his reaction. I couldn’t face him if he decided he didn’t want me anymore.

“Baby…” I heard him say. He’d leaned forward again and was rubbing my arms. “You don’t know if, what?”

“If…” I sniffed. “If I can do this. I don’t even know if...you want that part of me. I feel like...like I have two lives and…”

“Hey…” he cooed, pulling me by my waist. “C’mere.”

He pulled me onto his lap and rubbed my back, looking up at me with those sincere eyes again. Reaching behind him on the desk, he grabbed the tissue box and handed it to me. I mumbled a thanks as I took a tissue and blew my nose.

“Baby,” he said again. “You shouldn’t have to feel like you’re living two lives. I don’t want that.”

Sniffling, I kept my head down as he kissed the top of it, his arms around me making me feel safe.

“Then what do you want, Harry?” I asked quietly.

I heard him let out a short chortle before he said, “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I replied, lifting my head with tear-stained cheeks.

“I want you. I want us.”

“On what terms?” I choked.

“What do you mean, Stacey? There are no terms.”

He appeared to be on the verge of anger now, his brows knitted and a huge scowl on his face. I felt a sourness in my stomach like I used to get when Tod was angry with me. His arms, however, remained around me and I was reminded once again he was nothing like my ex-husband.

“Remember what I told you?” he asked. “That I don’t have conditions?”

I nodded, my eyes on his chest.

“I mean that, a hundred percent. I have a crazy life; I know I do. But I also know I love you unconditionally. I’m in this for real. I want you. I want you in my life, and I wanna be in yours.”

I sighed, placing my hand on his chest and raising my gaze to his beautiful face, which had now returned to the look of sincerity, though his brows were still furrowed.

“You’re so young, Harry,” I commented.

He rolled his eyes. “Are we going back to that again? I thought we agreed, the age thing doesn’t-”

“But it does matter, Harry,” I interrupted. “It matters more than we wanted to admit. When we’re talking about our connection, our chemistry...no it doesn’t matter at all. We make perfect sense. But when we’re talking about real life…”

“This is real life, baby,” Harry insisted, his hands on my arms as his eyes burned into mine. “It’s not the ideal life perhaps, but it’s ours.”

I pursed my lips and nodded again. He just didn’t understand, and I wasn’t sure he was going to. I didn’t want to fight. And I knew that if I said what I really wanted to - what was really in my head, I’d start one. One thing I hated was when I was the reason for a quarrel. My personality made me always want to have my say, to be heard before trying to resolve a situation. But sometimes it was easier to just let it go. I’d learned that in my marriage, or perhaps in spite of it.

“I guess I’m just scared,” I repeated. It was the truth. I was scared of so much, it made me sick to my stomach.

“I know, my love,” he said softly with a sigh as he petted my hair. “But I’m here. I love you. And I believe in us. Don’t you?”

Biting my lip, I ran my hands up to his neck and pulled him closer.

“Yes,” I whispered against his mouth before placing a kiss upon it.

I wanted to believe. And because Harry believed, I felt like I should too. It broke my heart to think otherwise. So, it wasn’t really a lie, I told myself. Not really.

“Wow!” Harry whistled when I descended the stairs.

While I was finishing my hair and makeup, Harry had gotten a phone call, so he’d told me he’d meet me downstairs.

“You look delicious,” he added as I stepped up to him in the living room.

I beamed. “You said that last time.”

“Did I?” he smirked, wounding his arms around my waist, his gaze on my lips. “Can’t help if my girlfriend looks better than dessert.”

I got tingles from the sound of him saying girlfriend. It still felt new, or perhaps renew, because others were now aware of me. But I quickly came up with a witty reply to his comment.

“Good, because I might have to skip dessert if I want to fit into this dress all night.”

“All night?” Harry quipped. “I sincerely hope you don’t.”

I giggled, pinching his bicep. “You’re naughty.”

He countered with a pinch of his own on my ass. I sniffed his intoxicating cologne and told him he looked delicious too before he grabbed his keys, and we left for adventure number two.

I tried my best not to have the car ride be too filled with awkward silence. Despite my uneasiness about our previous conversation, I was determined to have a good time. I would be leaving in the morning, and I didn’t want to fly home to Texas with a heavy heart.

Harry smiled at me and asked if I wanted to choose the music. Scrolling through his phone, I found a playlist titled Dinner.

“What’s this for?” I questioned.

“What do you think?” he quirked a brow.

“Well, either it’s for dinner parties or you’ve listened to it in the car while taking other women to fancy restaurants.”

Harry let out a loud guffaw. “Or perhaps I just made it ten minutes ago.”

I glared at him before opening the playlist to see the tracks included. It was all music I liked, some of the songs I’d introduced him to like Melody Gardot, some Stevie, Adele, the beautiful songs we’d danced to on the yacht in New York, even some of his own work. All of it was on the mellow side, perfect for a romantic car ride to a romantic dinner.

I threaded my fingers through his and sat back as the music began to play through the speakers. The Buble tune was just about over when Harry turned a corner and pulled up into a circular drive, in front of a stunning building. From first glance it looked like a fancy hotel, but when we stopped and the valet walked around to Harry’s side, I soon realized it was a restaurant.

“Holy crap,” I muttered under my breath as I climbed out of the car and looked up at the building which seemed to shimmer, though I wasn’t sure how.

“What was that, love?” Harry asked with a grin when he met me on my side and reached for my hand.

“Uh...just thinking it’s a good thing I went with the blue dress,” I replied.

Most likely sensing the hesitation in my tone (Harry was good at that), he released my hand and placed his on the small of my back, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

I looked up at him then, his eyes dancing, and I immediately felt myself relax. With a light push of his hand, I stepped forward and smiled at the door man who greeted us before we walked into a large lobby. Again, I was reminded of a hotel, or perhaps a concert hall, complete with a staircase in the back. A second man greeted us, recognizing Harry and he pointed us to a room to the left. We were seated quickly at a table near the back and to the right. And just like clockwork, a third man switched places with the second and took our drink order.

“Wow, that was fast!” I exclaimed in awe.

Harry shrugged with a smirk. I knew he recognized it to be one of the perks of being...well, him. Never in my life had I been seated at a restaurant so quickly, let alone given the best table in the joint.

I gazed around the room the best I could, without appearing obvious. It was a gorgeous place. The tables were adorned with candles, and there was an overall candlelight-type glow in the room, yet it didn’t seem so dark I couldn’t read the menu. Something to do with the lighting, I supposed.

I perused the menu, choosing a couple things that sounded appetizing to me, but then wondered if I should just get whatever Harry was getting. I quickly laughed at myself though, dismissing the idea because it wasn’t like it was our first date, or even our first meal together. I was letting my nerves get the better of me.

“What sounds good to you?”

Lifting my eyes from the menu, I saw Harry leaning forward. I almost caught a lump in my throat. His face glowed in the candlelight, his eyes a sparkling green, his lips red as cherries. He was definitely the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

“Um…” I took a breath and gazed down at the list again just as the waiter returned with our cocktails.

“Are we ready to order?” he sang, his hands behind his back. I noticed he had nothing to write with or on, and I had to hold back a laugh as I recalled a stand-up bit with Ellen Degeneres about that very thing.

“Pardon me!” I coughed, taking a sip of water. I eyed Harry over my glass who came to my aid, bless his heart.

“I think we’ll both have the salmon and the mango salad,” he told the waiter.

“Ah, very good,” he bounced on his heels, took our menus and left with a smile.

“Thank you,” I said after I’d managed to get the cough subsided, but not my embarrassment.

Harry chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I waved my hand away. “Just got tickled.”

“Someone under your dress?” he quirked a brow. “Under the table?”

I laughed harder when he pretended to search for the culprit underneath the table.

“I’ve heard of ants in your pants, but…”

Suddenly, I reached over and grabbed his wrist. “Stop! I can’t breathe!”

Harry laughed with me then, seeing as he’d made me feel at ease once again. I hastily wiped the moisture from underneath my eyes before taking a few sips of my gin and tonic. He watched me with a grin as he lifted his own glass, taking a slow sip of tequila. Then he just as gradually lowered the glass, his eyes still on me.

“I love you,” he declared plainly.

I almost wished I had a tape recorder, or my phone out so I could have snapped a video of him saying it. Not that I didn’t believe it, mind you. Just the opposite in fact. I believed him with all my heart and soul. I just wished I could have captured that moment in time to hold on to forever.

“I love you, too,” I smiled.

The waiter came by again as soon as my glass had emptied with a fresh refill, even though I hadn’t ordered one. Halfway through it, however, I could tell it was already having an effect on me, so I excused myself to the ladies' room.

As I made my way back to the table, I rush came over me. As I unobtrusively scanned the room, other than a couple people who smiled, I made hardly any eye contact. No one was gawking at me, as if to wonder who the redhead having dinner with Harry Styles was. I realized then that I had been unknowingly afraid they would. Once again, I scolded myself for being so paranoid.

My dinner had arrived by the time I sat down, as had a third gin and tonic, despite the fact that I hadn’t finished the second.

“Is the waiter trying to get me drunk, or is that you?” I joked, lifting my half empty glass.

“Well, the intention was mine,” remarked Harry, raising his tequila, “but I reckon he’s helping.”

We clinked glasses as I giggled, clearly already reaping the benefits of the alcohol. Although I wasn’t looking forward to making multiple trips to the bathroom, I felt good.

Dinner was divine, both the food and the company. Harry and I continued to tease each other, both above and under the table. I had just finished my last bite of salad and was almost through my third cocktail when I noticed Harry looking just past me, his eyes focus on something over my shoulder.

“Something wrong?” I asked him, not daring to turn my head to see for myself.

He exhaled and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Just someone with their phone out, and I can tell they’re taking pictures.”

“Oh no,” I muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s always bound to happen,” Harry remarked. “I’m used to it, honestly. It would just be nice to have complete privacy for once. Just a meal to ourselves.”

I blushed at the sound of “our”, meaning he included me. It was a small thing, but it meant more to me.

“Well, we are still in public,” I commented, “even if it is an upscale restaurant.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly with his jaw set. Then he shifted his gaze back to me. “No worries. Do you want dessert?”

“Not unless you want this dress to pop off right here at this table,” I quipped.

Harry laughed, and I smiled, happy that I’d lightened the mood.

“I actually wouldn’t mind that one bit,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“God, you’re so...what’s the word? Cheeky?”

With a smirk, that was indeed cheeky, he leaned forward. “I believe the word you’re looking for is horny.”

My face flushed as I giggled again and covered my eyes with my hand. “That too.”

I’d expected Harry to take me home after dinner, especially after that horny remark. And the way his fingertips played on my back when I rose from my chair gave me another hint. But when he led me out of the restaurant and we made it back to the large lobby area, he turned to the left and pulled me toward the massive staircase.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we climbed the steps.

“You’ll see,” he said nonchalantly. “Something I thought you might like.”

At the top of the stairs, Harry guided me through another set of doors and into a large room. I gasped when I realized what it was. Several tables were scattered throughout the room where couples and groups sipped on wine and cocktails. Along the left wall was a long bar, and in the back was a stage where a complete jazz band played. In the center was a dancefloor, more couples swaying to the old standard I recognized.

“They still have places like this?” was my immediate reaction. I had dreamed of being taken dancing at a ballroom, the scene vivid in my mind from watching so many old movies and episodes of The Golden Girls.

I felt Harry shake with a chuckle beside me as he held my hand and gave it a squeeze. The band finished the song they were playing and everyone clapped. Letting go of Harry’s hand, I applauded as well. Then just as they began the next song, Harry leaned over with his hand on my back again and whispered in my ear.

“May I have this dance?”

I realized then that his other hand was held out in front of me, awaiting mine when I accepted, which of course I did. Following him to the dancefloor, I slid my left hand up his arm and let him lead me. Despite seeing this scene unfold in many a late-night movie, I felt somewhat awkward at first, not sure how to move my feet. But Harry swiftly took the reins, pulling me to him and swaying like a tall tree in the breeze. The singer sang low, his deep voice warm like honey as he seemed to be singing just for us, the bass plucking just at the right points, the brass instruments whining to accentuate the emotions rolling through my brain and down my body.

Turning me slightly, I took a gander around the room before my eyes locked with Harry’s. He seemed to be watching me intently, waiting for my words, or perhaps trying to read them on my face.

“This is a wonderful surprise,” I finally said.

His mouth twitched as he began to smile. “I knew you’d like it. Reckoned it was better than going to a nightclub.”

I smiled. “Well, that would’ve been fun, too. But a lot more crowded.”

“No, I prefer this,” Harry commented.

“It’s very romantic,” I agreed.

“Didn’t know I had it in me, did you?” he quipped.

“No, I did.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked at me. His hand brushing my back as he held me close, I could tell he wanted to kiss me but was hesitant. We were still in public after all, and regardless of how open he wanted to be about our relationship, I suspected he was still cautious of who benefitted from getting the goods. However, we were in a half-empty ballroom, and my guess was that everyone in it was even older than I was.

The band stopped then, and Harry released me as we clapped. When they announced they would be taking five, we made our way to the bar.

As Harry handed me my gin and tonic, I made a mental note that it was cocktail number four of the evening. If we kept this up, I was going to have to pace myself if I planned to make it to the car without wobbly knees, or worse, Harry having to carry me with a sick bucket.

We sat at the bar while we nursed our drinks. I felt Harry glide his hand down my thigh to my knee, pushing up the hem of my dress. He rested his hand there, just above my knee while his fingers continued to play on my skin. I watched him as he lifted his glass to his plump lips, taking a generous sip, the rings on his fingers glistening in the candlelight. I was sure it was partially due to the effects of the alcohol, but I found every single thing about him incredibly sexy. Every movement. Every touch. I wanted him to take me home, but at the same time I was enjoying our evening out along with the anticipation.

Harry continued to flirt with me, making me laugh as well as the bartender who had begun to refer to him as “son”. When the band started up again, he lead me back to the dancefloor.

“You know what this makes me think of?” I mused, my fingers tangling in his curls that brushed his shoulders.

“Hmm?” he sounded, his eyelids heavy.

“Italy,” I replied. “Rome or Venice, some romantic film from the forties where the couples dance all night.”

“Does the man take the woman home after and ravage her?”

“They didn’t have smut in forties movies!” I scoffed. “It was only implied. It had to be classy.”

Harry chuckled, the lowered his head to nuzzle my neck, lightly brushing his lips across it.

“Anyway, I just always wanted to go there,” I said with a sigh.

“Mmm, we should go sometime,” he whispered in my ear.

“Italy in the forties?” I teased, knowing what he meant.

“No, now. Well...not right now...but…” he looked me in the eye then, “maybe after I get back from tour. We could take a holiday to Rome or Venice.”

My legs began to feel like butter at the sound of his voice and his words. Quickly, however, I was brought back to reality.

“Next trip I take will have to be with Jaz and Em,” I remarked. “I worry that I’ve spent too much time away from them as it is. And I promised them Disney World forever ago.”

“That sounds fun, too,” Harry grinned.

I must have given him a look then that made him question.

“What? I like Jaz and Em. And I certainly like Disney.”

With another sigh, I looked down at his chest and back up. “Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really prepared for that?”

“Prepare for what?” he asked incredulously.

“For...Disney World. For taking your girlfriend and her kids on vacation. For being part of that kind of life.”

Harry stared at me for a moment, seeming to conjure up the right words for his response. Truth was, I shouldn’t have asked him. I shouldn’t have had to put him in that situation where he even had to think about it. He was so young. It wasn’t fair to him.

The band finished then, giving us both a narrow escape. As the room applauded, I put my hand on his arm.

“I’m going to the ladies' room,” I said.

“Stacey…” he began, but I shook my head.

“I’ll be right back.”

As soon as I was in the stall, I locked the door and leaned my head against it. I could feel the tears coming so I just let them fall as they may, my shoulders shaking.

I hated myself. I hated myself for wanting more, when there was nothing more to get. I’d been having the most wonderful night, my last night with Harry for a long time and I had to go and ruin it. All I wanted was to enjoy our time together before I had to leave. Why did I have to make a mess of it?

I loved him. I loved him so much my heart ached. I loved him so much I was making my own heart break. I was an idiot.

I heard the bathroom door open and a woman took the stall next to mine. Hastily, I wiped my tears and blew my nose. After relieving myself, I washed my hands in the sink and touched up my lipstick.

“Oh, my dear, you looked wonderful!” exclaimed the older woman who’d stepped out of her stall.

“Excuse me?”

“On the dancefloor,” she beamed as she turned on the faucet next to me. “You and that handsome young man with his arms around you.”

“Oh,” I smiled timidly. “Thank you.”

“I was telling my husband, Steven, that it’s nice to see the young couples come out to dance. We don’t see it as often as we used to.”

I grinned wider, quickly remembering Harold and Millicent in England.

“It’s a lot of fun,” I said. “And I enjoy the music.”

“Oh yes. Now, that was my parents’ music, you know. But I grew up listening to it myself. And nothing like a live band to dance to. It’s very romantic.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” I chuckled.

“What’s his name?” the woman asked me as she dried her hands, throwing me for a loop.

“Um...Harry,” I replied.

“Are you married?”

“No, I’m-”

“Oh, there’s time yet,” she giggled. “How long have you been together?”

I bit my lip and thought for a moment. “Not long.”

“Well…” she patted my shoulder, “not to hurry things along, but that Harry’s a keeper if I do say so myself. I was watching the way he looks at you.”

My cheeks blushed pink.

“Of course,” she added, “you did your share of looking at him, too.” Then she leaned forward and whispered, “And I don’t blame you one bit!”

I laughed again as she held the bathroom door open for me. We walked back to the ballroom together where she waved over her husband, Steven and introduced us. Catching his eye at the bar, I grinned at Harry who weaved through the tables to get to us.

“Harry, this is...oh, I’m sorry, I don’t believe I got your name,” I addressed the woman.

“Joanne!” she beamed. “And this is my husband, Steven!”

Harry graciously shook both of their hands before placing his on my back once again, like a magnet snapping into place. I realized then that it was a safe place. As long as we had physical contact, I felt okay.

“And what is your name, dear?” Joanne asked me.

“Stacey.”

“Well, Stacey and Harry,” she sang, taking a hand from each of us and joining them together inside her own, “I wish you nothing but happiness!”

“Thank you,” we said in unison.

Joanne turned to her beloved Steven and they gave one last wave before leaving the ballroom. Harry raised a brow and looked at me.

“We met in the ladies' room,” I shrugged.

“You seem to be in a better mood,” he commented. “What happened in there?”

I giggled. “Nothing. She was just friendly. She said we looked wonderful dancing together. Made me feel good.”

A smile spread across Harry’s face just as the band began to play “Stardust”. I put my hand over my heart and Harry held his out for me.

“Last dance?” he asked.

I nodded, taking his hand. Once on the dancefloor, I laid my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath of his cologne. I could feel his heartbeat underneath my palm as I placed it on his chest, my other arm around his neck. His hands tickled my back as he ran them up and down before deciding to rest them on my waist.

“Stacey,” I heard him murmur, “about earlier…”

“Shh,” I sounded. “Forget about it.”

“But see...baby, that’s our problem. We don’t finish our thoughts. We just let them go and forget about it until something comes up again. You asked me a question.”

“Harry…” I lifted my head.

“No, let me answer,” he insisted, his face stern.

I opened my mouth, but quickly shut it. “Okay.”

“Maybe…” he began, our bodies still swaying to the music, “maybe I’m not fully prepared. Not in the way you’re asking.”

I swallowed hard, looking back down at his chest.

“But I am prepared,” he added, lifting my chin with his finger, “to love you the best I can. And whatever that includes to prove to you that I do.”

“Harry,” I said, “I don’t want you to have to prove anything to me. I know you love me.”

“Then why do I sometimes feel like you doubt me?”

I let out a deep breath. “Oh, sugar, I don’t doubt you. I do believe you. It’s just...my crazy mind being stupid and I...seriously, let’s just forget it. At least for tonight. It’s not important. All that’s important is that we have this time together now.”

“Yeah?” he asked, returning his hands to my waist.

“Mmhm. And I don’t want tonight to end. I’m having the most wonderful time with you. You’re so amazing, I feel so in love. I-”

With a slight tilt of his head, Harry interrupted me with a kiss. It was soft at first, a light touch of his lips on mine. But he soon deepened it, our lips intertwined like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly. I felt my entire body ignite when his tongue entered my mouth, and I grabbed hold of his curls on the back of his neck. The song had probably changed by then, but I barely even noticed.

“We um...should probably…” he breathed when he released my lips.

I only nodded.

The car ride home was quiet sans for the music playing at a low volume. Harry’s hand had returned to my knee, tracing non-existent patterns while he drove with the other. I began to play with his fingers and rings, making him smile. I felt chills all over from both his touch and that sexy grin. Lifting his hand, I brought his first digit to my lips. I kissed it lightly at first, then gave it a sweet kitten-like lick before putting it in my mouth. When Harry chuckled low, I shifted in my seat, so I was facing him and did the same to the second finger.

“God, that’s hot,” he groaned.

I continued my finger seduction with each remaining digit. When I made it to his thumb, he cupped my chin.

“We’re almost home, baby,” he announced. “And I’m so hard. Let’s finish this in bed.”

My mouth watered at the idea of his erection, and part of me wanted to reach over to his lap and feel it for myself, but I kept my restraint and sat back in my seat. Besides, I didn’t want to make him drive off the road, though I did giggle to myself at the thought.

“What?” he asked with a smirk.

“Nothing,” I said, my tongue grazing my top lip.

“Now who’s being cheeky?”

“You mean horny?” I teased.

Harry was nearly biting through his bottom lip by the time we pulled into his garage. I hastily unbuckled my seatbelt and hopped out of the car, not waiting for him to fully turn it off. Meeting him at the door, I watched as he unlocked it. My first instinct was to race to the stairs, but then I remembered the full art of seduction is to take one’s time.

Backing into the kitchen as he turned on the light, I leaned against the counter to remove my shoes. Dangling them from my finger by the strap, I eyed Harry who took off his jacket and draped it across a chair. With hungry eyes, he came towards me and pulled me to him.

“Shall we go upstairs?” I inquired as he stared at me. I could tell he was good at this game too.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, his gaze never leaving mine.

Neither of us made a move, for the stairs nor anywhere else. I was about to pry myself out of his grip and make a run for it when I came to my senses. As much as I loved the idea of a sexy cat and mouse game, this night was supposed to be special. I didn’t want to get emotional right then and start crying, but this could quite possibly be...my last night with Harry. I didn’t want to think that; that we’d never see each other again in this way. But I still didn’t know what the future was going to hold for us. I wanted this night to count.

“Make love to me, Harry,” I said.

He seemed to search my face for a moment, trying to read my eyes until he simply nodded and said, “Yes.”

He guided me to the stairs, turning out the lights on his way. I took his hand again as he led me to the bedroom. He walked around the bed and opened a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a lighter. He lit the candle there, then came back around and lit the candle on the other side.

“Is that enough?” he asked as he flipped the light switch.

I nodded, reaching behind me for the zipper of my dress.

“No, let me,” he insisted.

His amazing hands wound around my waist before they reached the zipper and pulled it down. As my dress fell to my feet, Harry leaned down and kissed my shoulder, his lips sliding up slowly to my neck. My breath caught in my throat when his soft lips met my ear and his fingers found the fastener of my bra. Pushing the straps off my shoulders, Harry let it drop next to my dress.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled when his hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs grazing over my already erect nipples.

Up until then I was reveling in his touch, his eagerness to undress me. But now I was needing to touch his naked skin too.

Tugging on his shirt, I unbuttoned it with determination. Harry grinned at me when I’d finished, my hands quickly roaming up his tattooed torso. Shrugging out of the sleeves, he dropped the shirt on top of my dress.

“Why does it always seem like you have on way more clothes?” I quipped as I pulled on his belt.

“To torture you, obviously,” he smirked.

I chuckled lightly as I finally got his slacks unfastened and he stepped out of his shoes. Then to give me a hand, he removed his own pants while I shimmied out of my panties.

“C’mere, baby,” he beckoned, guiding me to the bed.

The candlelight bounced off the walls as we lay together, side by side. The smell of lavender and something else I couldn’t pinpoint relaxed me, filling my senses. Harry looked into my eyes as his fingers delicately grazed my back.

“I wanna make you feel how much I love you,” he declared. “I don’t want you to ever forget.”

He kissed me then, not waiting for my response which was just as well. I probably would have said something stupid. Rolling me onto my back, he kissed me harder and deeper. I wrapped my legs around him, needing to feel him as closely as possible.

We kissed for a long time until he lifted his head and said, “I love you so much, Stacey.”

“I love you, Harry.”

Then he shifted his weight and slipped himself inside me, completely, my head reeling. I could feel him deep, so deep already. My toes curled as he pulled back and did it again, hitting that spot.

“Holy shit,” I cursed, swallowing hard when he did it a third time.

“You feel me?” he whispered.

I shut my eyes and nodded, the only response I could manage at that moment. I braced myself for another thrust, but instead, Harry began to move inside me more gently and fluidly. I opened my eyes then and saw his looking back at me. He grabbed my thigh and lifted it as he licked his lips. I held onto his arms that were on either side of my head and watched him as he fucked me.

Yes, he was making love to me, because he loved me. But he was also trying to prove something, which I didn’t mind at all. He was an astounding lover, and we both knew it.

When he sped up his movements, I could feel myself getting close to the edge. A moan escaped my lips which only seemed to fuel him. He held my hands down as he kissed me hard, his hips pumping. I moaned again into his mouth before he made his way down my neck.

He pulled out for a little bit, only to bring his lips to my breasts, his tongue swirling over my nipples. I bucked my hips, needing to feel the friction again. Harry sensed my discomfort and chuckled under his breath.

“Missing something, baby?” he teased, gliding his finger across my slit.

“Please,” I begged.

“You want my finger? Or my mouth?”

“Neither,” I shook my head.

Harry raised his brows. “Really? Nothing?”

“Just you,” I whined, reaching for his hips.

With another cheeky laugh, he returned to his post. “God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he took hold of my thighs.

He slid in with ease again, only this time he was the one who shut his eyes. He stalled for a moment before letting a breath out through his nose. Then he began to find a steady rhythm, gliding in and out. Just as I reached the same point I’d reached earlier, his face began to change. He let out a deep groan, and I knew he was close too.

“Harry…” I breathed.

I locked my legs around him again so that he only had a small area of movement to make. He moaned in my ear, and I thought I would come undone.

“Oh my God!” I screamed.

“Fuck yeah, baby, I’m so close.”

We came together after a few more thrusts, my legs shaking and my entire body on fire. With a delicate whine and a final breath of exhaustion, Harry collapsed on top of me.

“Wow,” he breathed. “That was...amazing.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It felt...different,” he added.

I froze. “Um...bad different?”

“Fuck no. Just...different somehow.” He lifted his head to look at me. “Did it to you?”

I chewed on the inside of my lip. “Um... I guess so.”

“Maybe because...you’re leaving.”

“Maybe so.”

He rolled off of me then and onto his pillow. We both stared at the ceiling, catching our breath and watching the flicker of the candles dancing.

“Harry, I’m gonna miss you so-”

“Shh!” he interrupted. “Don’t say it. Not right now. Please.”

I turned my head to look at him. He continued his focus on the ceiling. My eyes began to water, and I blamed it on my fatigue. But when I began to tremble and I sniffled a few times, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Hey,” Harry cooed, turning onto his side and taking me in his arms. “Shhh. Don’t cry, baby. It’ll be okay.”

I buried my face in his chest as he soothed me, rubbing my back.

“I love you, Stacey,” he declared with a promise underneath. “We’ll be fine.”

I believed him when he said he loved me. It was the other part I wasn’t so sure about.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK | PATREON

[lockandkeyhyena]

This might be callous of me and my wording might be assholish but I am hyper analytical and view things like this extremely objectively so.

but it’s entirely not your fault that someone self harmed over your work. That’s honestly objectively entirely on them and that isn’t your fault at all, they had mental issues to sort through yourself and trying to blame you entirely for it is kinda shitty. If something is triggering to someone they should not be engaging with the work, and if a parasocial relationship gets this bad that’s also not on you. You reserve the right to continue your work however you want to.

It’s also a little bit weird to me that the person’s sibling would tell you, like what are you supposed to do about it? Stop making something you’re passionate about because someone had an unhealthy attachment to you or was triggered by your work and yet continued to engage with it? It’s something that you’re clearly passionate about and you mentioned that you also were venting your own experiences through your work and that shouldn’t be infringed on.

It is not your fault that someone could not manage their mental health and attachments adequately. While this person’s emotions are intense, they are overall not your responsibility. I’d understand if you feel guilty for it, I don’t blame you at all, but I guess this is just the perspective of someone on the outside looking in. Like it’s important to be empathetic but being empathetic is as far as your responsibility goes.

I do not mean to sound like I’m blaming or attacking the person in question — I have similar levels of attachment to things I like (just not people) and I absolutely understand feeling that intensely about things. But it’s something that, as the person suffering it, have to take responsibility for because it can cause damage (see: your writers block with Alvin’s Infuro) that the person in question doesn’t intend.

I just hope they’re going to end up getting help and doing better, and I hope that you can resume your project and find your flow again.

Idk. Sorry for ranting and I’m worried I’m coming across as an ass when I don’t mean to be.

i don’t personally think you’re coming across as an ass anon! your kind words are greatly appreciated <3 idk it just felt weird to me, their sibling reached out to me and told me i wasn’t handling the situation (people disagreeing with me over the idea that the story needed to be told) as well as i thought i was, sent screenshots of their sibling venting to them on discord and deactivated before i could reply. all in all, a very odd interaction

[breakerwhiskey]

217 - TWO HUNDRED SEVENTEEN

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

Breaker, breaker, this is Whiskey Alpha Romeo calling out for anyone else who might be out there.

[click, static]

Maybe my mistake this whole time was not staying in the Northeast—everything is so close here, and now that I know why—or at least, I have an idea why certain people are here and others aren’t—it stands to reason that most of the people who’d be in this place would be in the Northeast. That’s where most of my life was centered and…

Well, I guess there’s no point in using any callsign or code name. If I have other enemies out there beside Junior…well, I’m not sure who they’d be and I’m not sure how it gets worse, so…

[click, static]

Breaker, breaker, Channel 19, this is Abi Rogers driving through New England, looking for other survivors.

[click, static]

Maybe it’s strange to use that word. What did we survive? The last seven years living on our own I guess. Survivors of my mistake.

In any case, I’m zig-zagging as I move up north, just to be safe, and I’m going to be on this channel all day on the off chance I come into someone’s radius. A long shot, I know, but I’ve been feeling more optimistic lately.

It’s odd, isn’t it? Not too long ago, I came face to face with a man who wanted to kill me and then one of my mysterious fair weather friends tried to repeat that particularly unpleasant encounter. By all accounts, I should be feeling the most downtrodden and scared that I’ve felt since I got arrested.

But finding an old friend, someone I truly never thought I would see again…it’s like air in my lungs. Despite being alone, Donnie really is so much the same person he was when we first met. It’s like a warm cup of coffee, talking to him, hearing his ridiculous stories, being teased by him. It’s easy to fall back into the regular patterns.

The other day I said he thought I was softer than I was, but what he actually said was “you seem sadder than you were, Abi”. Which I guess I can’t fault him for noticing. Even with how happy I was to see him, there’s still this cloud…

I don’t know if I realized how much it had sunk into who I am. Loneliness isn’t new for me, hardship, fear—while there have been new kinds of challenges these last seven years, the fundamentals of who I am haven’t encountered anything they can’t bear.

I have been missing people more than I thought I would. As in—if you’d told me a decade ago that I’d be stuck in a place without strangers, a place where I just had to focus on living, and I could technically do whatever I want, I’m not sure I would’ve seen that as a bad deal. But the reality…well, being with Don has just put into stark focus just how much I miss talking to people. Being in New York reminded me just how much I loved getting lost in a crowd.

So there was bound to be some change in demeanor, I think that’s pretty normal. I have no idea how Donnie was able to stay sane by himself all these years, how he was able to stay so much the same.

I think being around Harry has been making me sad for a really long time. It’s a funny thing, that. When I first told Donnie that that’s where I’ve been—that Harry and I have been hiding out—he made a joke that I’d won the top prize in this shitty world. That he often felt like locking the two of us in a room until we could work things out.

I had no idea—that our…dynamic was so apparent to other people. But according to him, it was a point of discussion amongst the other three. Which is absolutely mortifying and also, strangely validating. So he was plenty happy for me that I’d finally been given the time and space to knock down whatever wall was holding us back. He couldn’t comprehend why, over six years, we never managed to do it.

And, of course, I can’t really tell him why, can I. I didn’t understand why myself until the months before I left, didn’t understand why Harry kept herself at arm’s length, I took her coldness for disinterest, not guilt. So I just told Donnie that we’re both too stubborn to make the first step. After all, that’s not exactly wrong.

(sigh) I don’t know, maybe it’ll be different this time. Maybe now that everything’s out in the open, now that we know why we’re here, that it was my fault, now that we’ve got a little bit of the gang back together…

I’m not saying I’m over it. I’m not saying forgiveness is that easy, but maybe…maybe we can move forward.

Either way, I don’t feel sad anymore. Not like I have been. The loneliness that I felt with Harry, that got worse these past months as I’ve driven all around this country, that was at it’s most engulfing when I found Leann…it’s like that weight has been lifted off of me. Moving forward shouldn’t be so hard now that I’m not dragging it.

[click, static]

[docholligay]

The House in Fata Morgana: Door Four -- 1099

I have never reviewed a visual novel before, but iscahwynn made me a very generous offer and a long line of patience, knowing that we are trying something very new. To that end: Please don’t spoil me for the game at all! If you are reading this, I have only gotten through the part written above, and I don’t want to be corrected, even if I’m wrong, even if I’ve missed something, i don’t want to have anything confirmed or denied, and I don’t need any trigger warnings or extraneous explanation. Iscah would like my pure, naive experience of the game. Thank you!

Non-spoilery: There’s a lot to like about this story for me, even before we get into the more…for the sake of not being spoilery i’ll call it “creative elements”. I think I would like the story even if it were simply the face story, but the creative elements allow us to play even more with what is happening outside of the text itself, and it gives a very different element to what has already been an interesting game

SPOILERS BELOW

So the fun about this door is that it’s bullshit, but you have to try and figure out how much of it is bullshit and how much of it isn’t bullshit, and boy would you think that’s easier than it  actually is. It IS a temptingly neat story, full of love, some key beauty and the beast elements, learning to love each other, a promise that can obviously only end in tragedy, dying in your lover’s arms, a horrible bargain, blood in rivers. It’s got it all. I see what the painting was saying about not wanting to accept anything that makes it all just a little too pretty.

Because you would think, ‘Oh no it ends in death and such, it’s not pretty.” Wrong, the story is gorgeous and it provides such a beautiful justification for everything that has happened to the white haired girl, and also, in a way, made it her own fault. It’s also the stuff of fairy tales. Never in any other timeline do we see real magic, or curses, or anything like that. Remember, Yukimasa SAW himself as a beast, but he never was one, he always looked like a reasonably handsome young man. There hasn’t been magic in the story other than in THIS time, and I’m not 100% sure I believe that in 1099 curses were real and the shitty Dark Ages version of Pushing Daisies was coming about. 

I do believe in the witch though, only because I’ve been thinking about her from day one, and this mansion that exists out of time, IS her fata morgana. 

So now we’re left trying to untangle this story, and where is it real, and where is it a lie? The story does a really fun thing with the backlog here, where sometimes the witch communicates through that.

And there are glitches in the visuals, plenty of things for us to be told that parts of this story simply aren’t accurate. They aren’t the reality of what happened in that house. 

I love the spot in the backlog where the witch tells us she’s going to rewrite the woman we loved. What does that mean, to rewrite someone? Are we creating Giselle, which may or may not be the White Haired Girl’s name--he says her name is Giselle, but it’s often xxx’d in the backlog, and the screen still says “White Haired Girl”--out of thin air? Was there ever a Giselle, or, for that matter, a Michel? It’s been hinted at that I may be the White Haired Girl, and if I am the White Haired Girl, is this all being written for me so i can feel sorry for myself? So that I’m the poor little meow meow of my own tale? Because she’s a fucking angel and doormat, and I would love if it turns out that’s all horseshit and this is all being written as something to further fool me into believing myself an innocent. 

And we don’t…see the White haired girl, until we get up into the observation tower. That same tower that we saw in door one when the White haired Girl was telling Mell the story about the girl and the letters on a pigeon. That’s a very interesting choice to me, and it’s a very deliberate choice. See, for a moment there I thought we also might be Michel, because there’s this glorious screenshot:   

Where we deal with the whole idea that we are trying, reaching, begging for our memories here, but those memories are being replaced by the images that are being put in front of us. We don’t know what’s real and what’s not. 

I mean, to this moment, I have no idea if Michel ever existed, if there was ever a curse, if any of it was ever real. The game seems to be telling me the maid is Morgana, but that doesn’t make sense to me given that in door two, it felt like she and the house were two different entities, or is that yet more bullshit, and if it is bullshit, i think i should have been able to see some clue of that on the backlogs, which I couldn’t, or at least not in a way i noticed when I was talking about other chapters. I don’t know what I think about any of this at all! I feel terrible writing my impressions of this door when my impressions of this door were mostly “Fuck man?? I don’t know??” 

But in trying to winnow out what’s true and isn’t, there were a few things that struck me: 

1) I do not for a second believe that the story is just handwaving her survival, i believe the MAID/maybe Morgana is doing that, because we are being actively lied to. If the story were handwaving it, they wouldn’t be so obvious about it, because they would know it was a big problem narratively. Instead, the maid basically goes “Why was she actually alive when we were saying how dead she was, tenderly in his arms like a crushed rose petal. Beats the fuck out me!” They draw ATTENTION to that, that she is telling a story badly. That’s not a mistake, i don’t think. 

2) We of course have all the backlog stuff going on, which is the really obvious thing, but it was so interesting to me when things were xxx’d and when they weren’t, as well as the fact that in the observation tower we had that direct conversation Morgana, trying to remember who we are, trying to remember who SHE is, and, its only in that room. So that room HAS to mean something. 

Anyway, it’s so interesting because it feels so unfinished because it is despite being the whole door. The maid is staring at me right now telling me I’m the white haired girl and she’s morgana and I just can’t bring myself to believe any of it! It feels so fake! But like I need to keep going, not like, that’s the end, it’s a door, but it’s not the end of the tale the way the others were. 

I love how Michel goes on about how unusual her red eyes and white hair are like he doesn’t fucking have them himself. Amazing. 

I did roll my eyes hilariously at “i’m not going to hold your hand because then you’ll die hideous” okay i know we need to make allowances for the tragic ending, but how ridiculous was that? 

On that note, I know this isn’t real, but even if it’s well-trodden road i love the inevitable tragedy of a curse like that. The blood he shed saving her comes to take her away? Beautiful. Love it. I am a simple woman. 

At first i was thinking, ‘Oh so he’s a vampire” and I was wrong, but actually only kinda wrong!

[katkafe]

ok i have a couple really disorganized thoughts after that battle, so i just wanna talk about the stepmother and a little bit about pinnochi-crow. very lengthy post

i don’t think this is too much of a reach, but i’m really getting the feeling that pinocchi-crow is (was?) whatever the original sleeping beauty’s version of diablo is. it’s role in the last battle has me tempted to figure out what specific fairy tale it comes from. i’ve honestly never read the original or the brothers grimm version and i’m not sure if the evil fairy godmother even has a familiar in those, and ik diablo is actually a raven, but we already know that the stepmother is probably also the evil fairy from rosamund’s story. as far as i’m aware there’s no version of the evil stepmother in cinderella that has a crow or raven. we also know she’s probably the evil queen from snow white (being an amalgam of all the evil fairy tale stepmothers), though i can’t find anything about any earlier versions of her that have a raven or a crow. BUT there are versions of the story where the evil queen is snow white’s birthmother, and she’s not a fairy in any version of the story, but she IS a witch, and as brennan (as cinderella, i believe) has told us, some witches are also in league with the fairies.

now that brings me to the cannibalism. we all know about the stepmother eating her daughters in order to gain more power, which the evil queen also attempted to do, she wanted to eat snow white’s heart in order to achieve immortality. someone, i cant remember their url, brought up a grimm’s fairy tale called the juniper tree, which has a good chunk of cannibalism and a few minor parallels to snow white. i read it recently (and wrote a shitty summary that i might post if i remember) and i cant stop thinking about it honestly. in the juniper tree’s case, the stepmother cooks her stepson into a stew, and her husband eats all of it. since this is a grimm’s fairy tale, the story obviously has many religious connotations, so there is speculation that the stepmother is derivative of the devil, but she is not a fairy or a witch or anything magical at all, but while i was reading about it, i saw that there are versions where the devil, in some versions, “the evil one”, either possessed her or influenced her into killing her son. so, based on this, if the juniper tree is involved, i think it’s possible that, if the stepmother is not literally the same person as this stepmother, then it’s likely that she is “the evil one”, and made the woman kill her stepson. i think this idea lines up pretty well with what we know of her so far, and also considering how she acts as a puppet master, literally and figuratively. that’s pretty much all i got. the juniper tree is my new favorite fairy tale now tho, so tysm whoever made that post.