#sorry for being a millennial it will happen again

[kaban-bang]

unrelated to anything but i heard theres an office yuri manga getting its live adaptation

Sorry, I read "The Office Yuri Adaptation"

[spikeyjo]

The two stupidest bitches in my therapy group getting in a debate over Marxism and Leninism. You bunch are gonna put me back in the ward!

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Kansas to Tucson [10/17]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.5k Summary: The fallout from the interview with Oprah comes immediately, but with it is an unexpected attack that rocks you to your core.

Content/Warnings: discussion of women's health issues [notably pregnancy and abortion], deep fakes, political maneuvering, marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: Please pay attention to the content/warnings for this chapter. Thematically, we're going to get into some discussion about family planning, and I do think and hope I've given it the care and respect I think it deserves, but KNOW YOURSELF and know whether or not you have the bandwidth to read this without judgment. That said, if you've read the story to this point - a tenth chapter - and been okay with what I've included politically, I don't think you'll be shocked or offended by the discussions had here.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 12 - KANSAS CITY TO TUCSON]

The next morning, you are eating breakfast on the plane with Steve and Bucky in the private cabin on the Rogers campaign plane on the way to Tucson. You’re trying to hold off on being too tense or apprehensive, but a lot has already happened over social media while you slept. You’ve already done a lot of scrolling of your own and Jake and Lisa have already gone over the landscape of things so far with you and Steve and the core campaign staff.

The negative voices are loud. The hashtag #FakeFirstLady is trending on Twitter/X, along with countless memes mocking your relationship.

The headlines are brutal:

"ROGERS CAMPAIGN BUILT ON LIES: Captain America's Marriage a Sham"

"AMERICA'S GOLDEN BOY TARNISHED: Steve Rogers Admits to Political Marriage"

"CAPTAIN AMERICA OR CAPTAIN BETRAYAL”

But there are some people are praising the honesty, calling it a refreshing change from typical political marriages - and typical marriages, even, pointing out that a partnership built on shared values from the beginning over sparks or chemistry is a sensible and inspiring approach.

TikTok already has shops selling shirts and stickers that say “Blipped and Back,” people are clipping and posting their takes on parts of the interview, and BookTok is eating it up with many creators asking, “How long until we see the book based on this plot?”

You’ve been on BookTok, and so you know they’re speculating over more than that but aren’t surprised the sordid details weren’t included in the professional briefing.

You're trying to focus on your breakfast, but your mind keeps drifting to the swirling media storm.

You can't help but glance at your phone again, scrolling through the flood of notifications. The mix of support and vitriol is dizzying.

"You might want to put that away for a bit," Bucky suggests gently, noticing your furrowed brow. "It's not going to do you any good to keep reading all that right now."

Steve reaches over, taking your hand in his. "We knew this wasn't going to be easy," he says, his voice steady and reassuring. "But we're in this together, remember?"

You nod, squeezing his hand gratefully. "I know. It's just one thing to know it in theory and another to see it all playing out in real-time."

Just then, Jake enters the cabin, his face serious. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a situation developing."

Sophia, Lisa, and Sam enter swiftly right behind him.

Your stomach drops as you brace yourself for more bad news. "What is it?"

Jake grabs the remote from the side table and turns on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the cabin wall. The Fox News logo flashes across the screen as the sound comes to life.

"...and that's why this revelation about the Rogers' marriage is so troubling," a stern-faced commentator is saying. "It calls into question everything we thought we knew about Steve Rogers and his values."

Your heart races as you glance at Steve, whose jaw is clenched tight. Bucky leans forward, his eyes narrowed at the screen.

Another panelist, a woman with perfectly coiffed blonde hair, nods in agreement. "Absolutely, John. And let's not forget their non-answer about having children. When Oprah asked about their plans for a family, Mrs. Rogers was notably evasive." She refers to you as ‘Mrs. Rogers’ with so much sarcasm it’s mortifying.

The first commentator, John, picks things right back up. "Speaking of which, we may have an answer to whether or not Mrs. Rogers wants children from some information sent to us this morning."

Your heart stops as the first image fills the screen.

The woman continues, her voice dripping with sensationalism, "Our sources have provided us with some shocking photos that seem to show Mrs. Rogers entering a Planned Parenthood clinic from two years ago. And as you can see in these images, she appears to be visibly pregnant - probably five or six months along.”

The screen splits to show a second photo - the same woman, a slightly different angle - entering the clinic, and you don’t even know how to react because these images are such high quality you would believe they were real.

"According to our anonymous source," John jumps in eagerly, "Mrs. Rogers was there to terminate the pregnancy. If true, this raises serious questions about the Rogers' values and their fitness for the White House."

“We reached out to this Planned Parenthood clinic for comment, but they would only confirm that Mrs. Rogers had been a patient there.”

“That’s enough,” Steve nearly growls, and Jake mutes the screen.

The cabin falls silent, the tension palpable. You feel like you can't breathe, your mind reeling from the accusations being hurled at you on national television. Steve's hand tightens almost painfully around yours, but you don’t protest because you’re clutching it like a lifeline.

Jake turns to face the group, his expression grim. "I know we're all shocked by this, but we need to address it head-on. We've got to get ahead of this story before it spirals out of control. We've all read the opposition research file on you," he says, gesturing to the team. "There's no record of any pregnancy or abortion in your past, and I won’t judge you either way, but did you ev-"

“Wait a minute, Jake.”

It’s Sophia who takes a step forward, her voice sharp as she says, “She shouldn’t have to answer that question to us or anyone else, period. With the negative coverage that has reared its head since last night, the bulk of it is not being directed at Steve. The fire and the big guns are being directed straight at the woman in the situation - which is unsurprising, but ridiculously unfair.”

Your eyes burn and your throat aches as tears threaten to burst out of you, but you fight to keep them in. You’re gutted by what you’ve just seen on tv, angry at the reality Sophia has pointed out, but also moved by her fierce defense of you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Sophia's right. I shouldn't have to answer that question. But I will, because I want there to be no doubt." You look each person in the eye as you continue, "I have never been pregnant. I have never had an abortion. Those photos are fake."

Steve's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We need to shut this down immediately," he says, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

“There will be no shutting this down completely; it’s out there,” Jake counters, already typing furiously on his phone. "But we do have a press corps traveling with us who are going to want statements as soon as possible and I suggest we make them as soon as possible as it’s the most powerful option available to you to have any voice in the direction this narrative will go.”

Jake turns to you directly, and his voice softens. “Sophia was right to check me,” and at this he glances at your assistant. “I’m not going to step back, but I want to step right in line behind you and have you work directly with Lisa on what you want to say now that we’re stepping into this arena. You have a lot of power in this moment to direct the attention of this situation. And I think we all know this man,” he nods at Steve, “will back whatever you choose.”

You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself amidst the chaos swirling around you. The weight of the moment settles on your shoulders, but you feel Steve's steadying presence beside you and draw strength from it.

"Thank you, Jake," you say, your voice steadier than you feel. "And thank you, Sophia." You lock eyes with your assistant, conveying your gratitude for her fierce defense.

Turning to Lisa, you nod. "Let's draft a statement. I want to be clear and direct."

Lisa sits and pulls out her laptop, ready to take notes. "What key points do you want to hit?"

You consider for another moment, then begin, "First and foremost, I want to set the record straight. Those photos are fake - but rather than saying I’ve never had an abortion, I only want to say I’ve never been pregnant. A woman’s reproductive choices are her own, and I don’t want to elevate or disparage whether or not a woman has been or wants to be pregnant, nor whether or not she’s had or wanted to have an abortion. They’re all deeply personal choices and can change over the course of a woman’s life.

"Second, I want to confirm that I was indeed a patient at Planned Parenthood, as the report stated. But I want to use this as an opportunity to educate people about the wide range of essential health services they provide," you continue, your voice growing stronger as you speak.

“This is an excellent start,” Lisa affirms, her fingers flying across the keyboard of the laptop screen as she types. “We can tie into Steve’s healthcare plans with this, too,” Lisa says.

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing at the front of the press cabin, addressing the reporters, podcasters, and bloggers with Lisa and Steve standing just off to the side of you. After making your first point that you’ve never been pregnant and that any choice about whether or not to have children is deeply personal and can change over the course of time, you move into expanding on the value of Planned Parenthood clinics since you know they’re often misunderstood, misrepresented, and that they provide beneficial services some don’t even know about.

"When I was in college, working part-time and struggling to make ends meet, Planned Parenthood was there for me. They provided me with affordable, compassionate care when I needed it`."

You pause, glancing around the cabin before continuing. "I received my annual well-woman exams there, including pap smears and breast cancer screenings. They provided me with birth control and counseling on reproductive health. Planned Parenthood has been a crucial healthcare provider for me and millions of other women, especially those who are uninsured or underinsured.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of every word. "These clinics offer vital services beyond what many people realize - STI testing and treatment, prenatal care, and even primary care and mental health care services in some locations. They are often the only source of healthcare for many women in underserved communities."

A reporter raises her hand, and you nod for her to speak.

"Mrs. Rogers, how do you respond to critics who may say your support of Planned Parenthood conflicts with traditional family values?"

You meet her gaze steadily. "I believe that supporting women's health and reproductive rights is entirely consistent with family values. Healthy women build healthy families. Access to comprehensive healthcare, including family planning services, empowers women to make the best choices for themselves and their families."

"As for the doctored images being circulated," you continue, your voice growing firmer, "they are a blatant attempt to mislead the American people and distract from the real issues at hand. This kind of dirty politics has no place in our democracy. We should be focusing on healthcare reform, economic policies, education, climate change, and how we can build a stronger country.”

As you finish your statement, a flurry of hands shoot up, reporters eager to ask follow-up questions. You field a few more, your responses growing more confident with each answer. The cabin buzzes with the rapid-fire clicks of laptop keys and the occasional flash of a camera.

After about ten minutes, Lisa steps forward, gently touching your elbow. "Thank you all for your time," she addresses the press corps. "We'll be releasing a full statement shortly with additional details."

As you turn to leave, you catch sight of a young woman in the back, her press badge identifying her as a reporter for a small Midwestern paper. She's not raising her hand or shouting questions like the others, but there's an intensity in her gaze that catches your attention. You make a mental note to speak with her later, sensing there might be a story there.

Steve's hand finds the small of your back, following you back to the staff area of the plane, and the buzz of excited chatter from the press corps fades behind you as the door closes.

Back in the relative quiet of the staff cabin, you let out a long breath, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb away. This cabin, usually a hive of activity, seems almost serene now as some of the staff move around, working on the transcript of your press statement and the questions you fielded, jumping on social media, preparing for the events you’re all headed to once you hit the ground in Tucson.

“You did well,” Jake says.

You glance at Jake, grateful for the praise but still feeling the weight of the situation. "Thanks, but this is far from over, isn't it?"

Jake shakes his head. "You’re right. But you've given us a solid foundation to build on. Your statements were clear, compassionate, and hit all the right notes. We can work with this."

Steve, who's been uncharacteristically quiet, finally speaks up. "I'm proud of you," he says, his voice low and intense. "You handled that with grace and strength. But I can't help feeling responsible for putting you in this position."

You turn to him, seeing the guilt etched on his face. "Steve, we're in this together, remember? We knew there would be challenges. This is just... a bigger one than we anticipated."

Bucky, who's been watching the whole scene unfold, chimes in. He hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I was just thinking this might be an opportunity to do more than just defend ourselves. We could use this to push the conversation forward."

Jake nods thoughtfully. "Bucky’s right. It’s like I said earlier, we've got the nation's attention right now. What do you want to do with it?"

You consider for a moment, then turn to Lisa. "Can we set up a series of interviews and speaking engagements focused on women’s health and the lack of comprehensive knowledge and education? The US has one of the worst - if not the worst - maternal mortality rate among developed nations in the world, if I’m remembering correctly.”

You turn to Sophia. “You’ve been mentioning that I should be thinking about one or two causes I want to truly champion if I were to be elected. Looks like I’m locking in on one for sure.”

Steve pulls you into a tight embrace. "You are incredible," he murmurs into your hair. "Thank you for being so strong."

You burrow into him for a moment. His praise and reassurance bolster you in the moment, but you feel the tightrope you’re walking on getting higher and higher. You can only hope you won’t fall.

Once you pull away from Steve's embrace, you notice his gaze shift over your shoulder. His brow furrows slightly, and you turn to follow his line of sight. In the corner of the cabin, Bucky and Jake have their heads close together, engaged in an intense, hushed conversation. Their expressions are grave, and Bucky's metal arm whirs softly as he gesticulates, emphasizing whatever point he's making.

Steve clears his throat. "Hey, you two," he calls out, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. "What are you two strategizing?"

Bucky and Jake exchange a quick glance before Bucky straightens up, his steel-blue eyes meeting Steve's. "We were just discussing the photos," he says, his voice low and determined. "I want to see if I can track down the source."

The cabin seems to grow quieter, as Bucky continues. “Somebody doctored them, and they doctored them for a reason.”

Jake nods, his expression serious. "Bucky thinks he might be able to trace the origin of those photos. I’d like to know who we’re dealing with - they aren’t amateurs, and I doubt they’re officially on the campaign team of either of your opponents, but they have an agenda, and I want to get ahead of it."

"Is it even possible?” you ask. “And is it legal?"

Bucky's lips quirk into a small, wry smile. "I have some unique skills from my past that might come in handy. As for legal... well, I won’t cross any actual lines."

Steve looks conflicted, running a hand over his beard. "I don't know, Buck. We can't afford any more scandals right now."

"Which is exactly why we need to get ahead of this," Bucky argues. "If we can find out who's behind the root of this, we can potentially stop them before they escalate further."

Steve's jaw clenches as he mulls it over. "What exactly did you have in mind, Buck?"

"I've got some contacts from my previous line of work. They can trace the digital footprint of those images, maybe even identify the software used to create them. It's all above board, I promise."

You and Steve exchange a long look, a silent conversation passing between you. The weight of the decision hangs in the air, but after a moment, you both nod almost imperceptibly.

Steve turns back to Bucky, his voice low but resolute. "Alright, go ahead. But tread carefully. We're walking a fine line here."

Bucky's face is set with determination. "I'll be discreet."

Bucky pulls out his phone and steps into the private cabin to make some calls.

Steve steps across the cabin to where Sophia is conferring with Lisa, their heads bent over a tablet as they likely discuss the upcoming schedule adjustments.

“There’s a Fox News reporter on the plane in our press group right now, isn’t there?” Steve asks Lisa. “I want him out as soon as we land,” Steve declares, his anger dialed back, but still palpable.

“Yes,” Lisa confirms, “Ryan Jackson. But he’s been a reasonably fair advocate for coverage of your campaign up to this point, and he’s actually the one who tipped us off about this before it went live, said his producer gave him an advance about ten minutes before with the instructions to get a response from you.”

Steve's brow furrows as he processes this information. "He tipped us off? Why would he do that?"

Lisa shrugs. "Not everyone at Fox agrees with their editorial stance. Some journalists there are just reasonable conservatives who still believe in fair reporting."

You step closer, joining the conversation. "If he's willing to give us a heads up, he might be an valuable ally."

Steve looks at you, his expression softening slightly. "You're right. I let my anger rush my judgment." He turns back to Lisa. "Can you arrange a private conversation with Ryan once we land? I'd like to thank him personally for the warning."

Lisa nods, making a note on her tablet. "I'll set it up."

You take a seat next to Sophia so you can weigh in if they need you, and Steve crosses back over to talk to Jake. The initial flurry of activity in the campaign cabin has settled into a focused hum, with staff members working diligently at their laptops or speaking in hushed tones on their phones. The plane's engines provide a steady background noise, a constant reminder of your journey towards Tucson and the challenges that awaits, and you try and steel yourself for what’s coming.

[OCTOBER 12 - TUCSON, ARIZONA]

You’ve often felt like days on the campaign trail are equal to three or four days of real life, but by the time you get to the hotel that night, you feel like you’ve lived a full week in this day from hell. The fake photos, the impromptu press conference, the endless strategizing throughout the day in pockets between the campaign events that had already been scheduled, and more interaction with the press corps - and public - as the day unfolded all blend together in an exhausting blur.

Two notable developments changed the trajectory of the day, as well. Once you hit the afternoon and had been asked some of the same judgmental questions - that would never have been asked to a man - you had shot back with your disappointment that once again, double standards were at play. “Beyond fake photos,” you had said, “this is just another display of how women in politics are treated, especially when they dare to challenge the status quo. Shots are fired at women because we’re not given equal footing with men - we’re viewed as expendable targets in a continual hunting season."

That had rattled a lot of cages and been received as a battle cry, as well.

And around dinnertime, Bucky had come back with confirmed evidence that the doctored photos had been given to Fox News by the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today* (CSFAT). He had not discovered yet who gave the photos to CSFAT, but their staff had bypassed checking their validity and wanted to get the word about you out immediately. And though the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today hadn’t worked with their campaign staff at all, CSFAT - as it turned out - were huge contributors to the Republican candidate’s campaign.

Bucky was still working to find out who had created the images and given them to CSFAT.

But Lisa had worked used her superpowers to masterfully reveal Fox News’ source and suggest further commentary and investigation of the matter.

After that final briefing with the press, there had been a meeting to debrief the day and strategize for tomorrow, and then you had quickly and quietly snuck away as quickly as you possibly could and escaped to your room, desperate to get away from everyone and from the nightmare of the day.

But you had only dropped your phone onto the small coffee table in your room when there was a knock on your door.

You shut your eyes your shoulders slump. The last thing you want to do is answer that door.

But after another few moments of your reticence, whoever’s on the other side knocks again, and you know instinctively they’re not going away before they talk to you.

You drag yourself to the door, steeling yourself for another round of strategy or crisis management. But when you open it, you find Steve standing there, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. His face is etched with concern, the worry lines around his eyes more pronounced than usual.

"Hey," he says softly, his blue eyes searching yours. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him enter.

Steve moves into the room, his gaze taking in the untouched bed, your jacket tossed haphazardly over a chair, the room service menu lying unopened on the nightstand. He turns back to you, his expression softening.

"You haven't eaten, have you?"

You shake your head, suddenly realizing how hungry you are. "No, I… I guess I forgot."

Steve's brow furrows with even more concern. "Let me order something for you," he says, reaching for the room service menu.

"Steve, you don't have to—" you start to protest, but he cuts you off gently.

"I want to," he insists. "You need to eat. And... I thought maybe we could talk. If you're up for it."

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. "Okay," you agree softly.

“Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll order us some dinner.”

You nod, grab your bag, and Steve is already picking up the phone as you step into the bathroom.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, comfy in a pair of silk pajamas, you find Steve sitting in the armchair by the couch. He's shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking more relaxed than he has all day. The room service cart is beside him, covered dishes waiting.

"Feel better?" he asks, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You nod, managing a small smile in return. "A little, yeah. Thanks."

You sink onto the couch, feeling the full weight of exhaustion from the day. Steve stands and moves to the cart. He passes you a set of utensils wrapped in a cloth napkin, a drink, which you set on the end table next to you, and then finally a plate of food that makes you gasp.

“How did you know?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“That it’s your favorite? I pay attention,” he answers simply.

Steve sits beside you with his own plate, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

The two of you eat and talk - though only a little bit, as it’s evident you were both incredibly hungry. But once you’re both done, plates are set aside, and Steve shifts, angling himself to face you better, and you do the same, tucking your legs up to be more comfortable.

"How are you holding up?" he asks softly.

You let out a long sigh. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It feels like we're in the eye of a hurricane, and I have no idea what's coming next."

He nods, understanding in his eyes. "I know. It's been one hell of a day."

Steve reaches for your hand, enveloping it in his much larger one. His touch is warm and comforting.

"You've been beyond incredible," he says, his voice low and earnest. "The way you handled everything today - the press conference, the interviews, the constant barrage of questions - it was nothing short of remarkable."

His thumb traces gentle circles on the back of your hand as he continues, and you look up into his blue eyes, which are locked on yours. "Your strength, your composure, your eloquence - it's been awe-inspiring. You didn't just weather the storm; you stood up to it and turned it into something powerful."

Steve's words, filled with such genuine admiration and unwavering support, begin to chip away at the walls you've built up throughout the day. The compassion in his eyes, the absolute confidence in his voice - it hits you like the sun, and it’s warm and powerful, but after the day you’ve had, wearing a brave face of poise and power that took more strength than you even thought you had, it’s too much.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop it, a sob escapes your lips. Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision as they spill down your cheeks. Your shoulders shake as you try to hold back the flood, but it's no use. The weight of the day, the constant scrutiny, the vicious attacks - it all comes crashing down on you at once.

"I'm sorry," you choke out between sobs, "I didn't mean to-"

But Steve doesn't let you finish. He pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest. One of his hands moves to stroke your hair while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. "Shh," he murmurs, "You don't have to apologize. Let it out. I've got you."

And with those words, the floodgates truly open. You cry for what feels like hours, your tears soaking into Steve's shirt. Steve holds you through it all, his strong arms a protective barrier against the world.

As your tears begin to subside, replaced by hiccupping breaths, you realize this has been the hardest day of your life.

When you came back from the Blip to find Jeff had moved on, it had been devastating. But that pain was private, shared only with those closest to you. You could grieve in the safety of your own home, away from prying eyes and judgmental whispers. And you also weren't alone in the world - millions of others were going through the similar losses, a shared trauma that bonded you all together.

But this? This was different. This was a targeted attack, aimed squarely at you, broadcast to the entire world. Your name, your face, your most personal choices - real or fabricated - were splashed across every screen, dissected not only by the media but the millions and millions of people with access to the internet and had decided to commentate as well.

You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say again, your voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to fall apart like that."

Steve gently cups your face, his thumbs brushing away the remaining tears. "You have nothing to apologize for. You're human," he corrects softly. "And you've been through hell today. You're allowed to break down."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "I knew it would be hard, but I didn't expect this. The lies, the scrutiny, the judgment. It feels like the whole world is watching, waiting for mistakes."

Steve nods, his expression somber. "I know. And I'm sorry. I never wanted to put you through this."

You shake your head. "No, Steve. This isn't your fault. We're in this together, remember?"

He smiles softly at you. “And you’ve been so strong through everything - not just today, but every day since I met you.”

You feel a sudden rush of emotions, as if the floodgates have opened. The dam that held back your fears and insecurities has finally broken, and everything comes pouring out at once.

"I've been trying so hard to be strong," you whisper, your voice trembling. "To be the person you need me to be. The person America needs me to be. But sometimes, I feel like I'm barely treading water. Tonight, I feel like I’m drowning."

Steve's brow furrows in concern, but you continue before he can speak.

"You're Captain America, Steve. You're a hero, a legend. And I'm just... me. I worry constantly that I'm not good enough, that I'm going to let you down somehow."

Steve's arms tighten around you, and you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek. It's comforting, grounding you in the midst of your emotional storm.

“You could never disappoint me,” he says quietly, but with a fervent power that seeps into you. “You may not see it yet, but I see how people look at you. With such hope, such admiration, because you’re so real to them. I got a super soldier serum that changed my life. You showed up in your life every day and worked hard and built relationships - people see that and they resonate with that. They could do it, because you could - because you are.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, Steve's words sinking in. The sincerity in his voice is palpable, and you find yourself clinging to it like a lifeline.

"I just... I don't want to let anyone down," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Especially not you."

Steve pulls back slightly, his hands moving to cup your face. His blue eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Listen to me," he says, his voice low and firm. "You could never let me down. Ever. You've already exceeded every expectation I could have had."

He pauses, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "When we started this, I thought I was just getting a partner to help me navigate the political landscape. But you've become so much more than that. You're my rock, my compass. You keep me grounded when everything is moving a thousand miles an hour around us.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease, your breathing becoming steadier.

"You're not just keeping up," Steve continues, his voice soft but intense. "You're leading the way in so many aspects. The way you've handled yourself, the causes you've chosen to champion, the connections you've made with people - it's all been incredible to watch."

You take a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed by his praise. "I'm just trying to do what's right," you murmur.

Steve smiles softly. "And that's exactly why you're perfect for this. Your moral compass, your compassion, your determination to make things better - that's what this country needs. That's what I need."

You surge close to him again, but this time wrapping your arms around his neck. He returns your embrace, his strong arms surround you completely, holding you firmly to him.

You stay in Steve's embrace for a long moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. His warmth and strength envelop you, providing a sense of safety and comfort you didn't realize you desperately needed. For the last three years, you’ve done life on your own, and you’re strong and independent and more than capable. But to be held, and in being held have someone hold part of the emotional battle with you… you didn’t know how much you needed that.

When you finally pull back, you meet Steve's gaze. His blue eyes are filled with concern, but also with something else - a warmth and tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," you say softly. "For everything. For being here, for listening, for... for just being you."

Steve's lips curve into a gentle smile. "Always," he replies, his voice low and sincere. "We're in this together, remember?"

You nod, managing a small smile in return. "I do."

A comfortable silence falls between you, and you find yourself studying Steve's face. The worry lines around his eyes have softened, but you can still see the concern etched in his features. It strikes you how much he's been carrying too.

"Steve," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "How are you holding up through all of this?"

He lets out a long breath, leaning into your touch. "I'm alright," he says after a moment. "It's not easy, seeing you go through this. Knowing that my choices, my campaign, have put you in this position."

You shake your head. "We've been over this. It was my choice too."

"I know," he sighs. "But that doesn't make it any easier to watch. And then there's the constant pressure, the scrutiny. I do still wonder if I'm cut out for this. Fighting Thanos almost seems simpler in comparison."

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, and Steve's lips quirk up in response.

"At least with Thanos, the enemy was clear," he continues. "Here, my opponents aren’t my enemies, but they have enemies attached to them - like we saw today.” He runs a hand over his beard, before he continues. "I've been in the public eye for a long time, but this is different. More personal. And I hate that today you're bearing the brunt of it."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "We're in this together, remember?" you echo his words back to him, squeezing his hand gently.

Steve smiles softly, squeezing your hand in return. "We are."

For a moment, you both sit quietly, the weight of the day settling around you but softer and lighter now that it’s shared between you. The room feels like a sanctuary, a quiet bubble away from the chaos of the campaign trail.

"You know," Steve says after a while, his voice thoughtful, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About feeling like you're drowning sometimes."

You look up at him, curious.

"I want you to know that it's okay to feel that way," he continues. "This isn't easy, and I want you to know that I see your strength, even when you don't."

His blue eyes lock onto yours, intense and sincere. "You've faced every challenge head-on and your support has sustained to me than you know on days when I’ve quietly doubted myself, too.”

The sincerity in his voice, the intensity of his gaze - it's almost overwhelming. You've spent so much time focusing on being strong for him, for the campaign, that you hadn't realized how much you needed to hear those words.

"Thank you," you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know."

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I meant every word."

Steve's hand reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingers, and you find yourself leaning into it almost instinctively. And then you yawn.

He laughs softly. “Come on, it’s late. Let’s get you to bed,” he says, and stands, scooping you up in his arms bridal style. You hold on around his neck, resting your head against his shoulder for the short walk into the bedroom area of your small suite.

Steve carries you to the bed, his strong arms cradling you gently. He sets you down carefully on the plush mattress, the soft sheets cool against your skin.

With tender care, Steve pulls the covers up over you, tucking them snugly around your shoulders. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's savoring each moment. Your eyes are drooping closed, but you still notice the way the lamp on the bedside table casts a warm, golden glow across the room, softening the angles of Steve's face as he leans over you.

He brushes the hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light. Then, with infinite gentleness, he presses a soft kiss to your brow. His lips linger for a moment, warm and comforting against your skin. Then he places another soft but quick kiss to your cheek, and murmurs, “Goodnight,” as he pulls away.

“Mmm, stay?” you mumble in reply, reaching for him.

Steve hesitates for a moment, his fingers curling softly around yours. You can almost see the internal debate playing out behind his eyes. But then his expression softens, and he nods, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Alright," he says softly, "I'll stay."

You hear the soft thud of his shoes hitting the carpet, followed by the rustle of fabric as he removes his dress shirt and slacks, leaving him in only a simple white undershirt and his boxers.

He turns off the lamp next to you, then moves around to the other side of the room. The mattress dips slightly as he slips under the covers behind you. You can feel the warmth of his body immediately radiating through the thin fabric of your silk pajamas.

Steve's arm drapes over your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, a soothing rhythm that begins to lull you towards sleep. The cotton of his undershirt is soft, the scent of him so comforting.

Outside, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren serve as a reminder of the world beyond this room, but here, in this moment, it all feels far away.

Steve's breathing evens out behind you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against your back. His arm is a comforting weight around your waist, his hand splayed protectively over your stomach. You can feel the calluses on his palm, testament to years of fighting and sacrifice, now a source of gentle comfort.

As you drift off to sleep in Steve’s arms, you know everything is far from fixed, but the chaos of the day fades enough, replaced at least for the night by a sense of peace and security you haven't felt in a long, long time.

next part: TUCSON

Thoughts? Feelings?

thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me to work out some of this chapter - you know what you said/did 😎

I had said there were only going to be 12 chapters, but I think we might need to push it to 13, if there are no complaints...

*The "Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today" is a name that I made up - or at least I tried to! I Googled just to make sure I didn't use the name of a group that already exists.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[fallstaticexit]

The Mid Series Finale. That's right, we've made it to the halfway point in this series and dare I say, we're just getting started. I don't know about you, but I'm crying sobbing and throwing up 😔

prev / next

Olive: Be honest, was I your first girl?

Nancy: Would you be jealous if I said no?

Olive: Oh, I’d be sooo jealous.

Nancy: [chuckles] Am I your first girl?

Olive: No, but you are my best girl.

Nancy: You really are just so sweet, aren’t you?

Nancy: [giggles] What?

Olive: Nothing. I just...I miss you already.

Nancy: I miss you too. It won’t be much longer before I see you again.

Olive: You sure you don’t want to just come upstairs? See my place? My living room. My bedroom...

Nancy: Oh so tempting, darling. But I have alot to catch up on. Soon. I promise.

Nancy: Oh! I wasn’t expecting you boys to be here. Geoffrey, what are you-

Malcolm: We need to talk, Mother.

Nancy: About? Is everything alright?

Geoffrey: Please, just sit, Nancy.

Malcolm: You have some nerve. I’ve been running the foundation not even a year and yet you make it your business to humiliate me at any chance you get. Is that your goal? To ruin me and my reputation?

Nancy: Humiliate you? Malcolm...what are you talking about?

Malcolm: Gallivanting at low end strip clubs looking for whores while still married to my father is one thing but parading her around the city and spending over 400 thousand fucking dollars without a care who sees is wow- bravo! Wife and mother of the year!

Nancy: I- I beg your pardon!? Malcolm, do not talk to me like-

Malcolm: Imagine my surprise as I’m just moments away from landing the deal of a lifetime and I get a call from a journalist, itching to sell the story of Nancy Landgraab and her torrid affair. Do you how much I had to spend to clean up this mess? And what are the odds, this woman is related to the CEO of Servo Tech.

Nancy: [gasps] They know?

Malcolm: You’re not subtle and neither is she. It was nothing to find her and her receipts. She’s got you plastered all over her social media. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s you. I guess that’s the price to pay for screwing a millennial-

Malcolm: Did you stop and think how this would make me look? How this would make my father look? Do you have even an ounce of goddamn shame?

Malcolm: Do you care about anyone other than your fucking self?

Nancy: Malcolm, I love you. I love you and your brother more than anything...but what’s happening between your father and I has nothing to do with you.

Malcolm: Doesn’t it? Everything you have done has affected me. Both of us. All you’ve managed to do over the years is push us away. You keep up with this shit and you’ll have nothing and no one.

Nancy: Johnathan...you’ve felt this way too?

Johnny: [sighs] Look Nancy, I’m only here cause Malcolm paid me, ok? I covered all that shit in therapy already. I’m over it.

Malcolm: It’s not too late to fix this.

Nancy: What...what do you want from me? What do you want me to do?

Malcolm: We’re one of the richest, most powerful families in the world. To the public, we’re the perfect family. I need it to stay that way. That means you need to cut your whore loose and be a proper wife and mother.

Nancy: Olivia is not a whore! She is everything to me!

Nancy: I haven’t been very honest about myself over the years���to all of you, but mostly to myself. Being with Olivia has made me finally put it all together—the one thing I’ve run from all my life. I’ll do anything for you, my baby, but please, I need her. I think I’m in l-

Malcolm: [sighs] Mother. You know nothing about this woman. Are you really willing to sacrifice it all for a felon?

Olive: Hey you...I haven’t heard from you since the trip. I miss you like crazy and I want to see you. Preferably tonight at my place. Then maybe we can hit the strip in the morning and you can pick me out something hot- but classy to wear to my uncle’s wedding. Which I’m hoping...you’d be my plus one? Hello? Nancy, are you there?

Nancy: No. No, I can’t. I’m sorry.

Olive: No? ‘No’ is against the rules, isn’t it? [chuckles nervously]

Nancy: Well. We have broken every single rule we’ve made. What’s one more?

Olive: Oook, what’s going on? Are you ok?

Nancy: I think we should end our arrangement. Clearly...it’s gone too far. It’s for the best.

Olive: ...what?

Nancy: Better now before it gets too complicated, right?

Olive: Complicated? Nancy, what are you doing? Why do you want to end this- is it me? Do you...I thought you felt the same way I did..

Nancy: I’m sorry, Olivia. I have to put my family first.

Olive: What? Your husband?? The one you said you were leaving because, uh, hello? You’re gay! Or you meant your mean, spoiled ass kids? What the fuck, Nancy?

Nancy: Please don’t throw my issues back in my face. Granted, you’ve never told me about what you’ve done.

Olive: What are you talking about?

Nancy: Why didn’t you tell me you went to prison? Don’t you think that is something I should know about you? Don’t you think the media could ruin my family with something like that?

Olive: I tell you my name and you look me up? The fuck is wrong with you?!

Olive: I see how it is. You finally get some ass and now you’re done with me. It’s what you wanted the whole damn time. You rich fucks make me sick! You don’t ever have to worry about me ruining your perfect little life. Fuck you!

Geoffrey: Would you like some wine? It’s your favorite-

Nancy: God, Geoffrey. Just leave me alone! You all got what you wanted, right? Just leave me be. Please.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/779634954778935297/i-kinda-get-the-cultural-reason-for-things-like-a?source=share

In the show, that line is delivered by a black girl who is obsessed with magical girls, to a black magical girl.

If it leaves a sour taste in your mouth that a character is excited that not only is her favorite genre of fiction real, not only is magic real, but the magical girl who just saved her looks like her, that's a you problem. Specifically, it's you being unable to understand that for the character, this is really happening. "But I saw black magical girls in fiction a long time ago-" it's not fiction in-universe. It's real. Her dream person is real, is present in front of her, and is actively altering her understanding of what was once possible.

If my queer ass met a queer superhero in person who demonstrated actual honest-to-God superpowers to me, I would also comment on it favorably. Yes, I have read about fictional make-believe not real queer superheroes, but this would be a real person in front of me. It would hit different.

I don't know how to explain this to you, but the characters are going to react to what's in front of them with a level of awe you will not feel, because to you it's fiction, but the characters don't know that. If it puts a sour taste in your mouth to see a black geeky girl react happily to the thing she geeked out about for years happening in front of her... I'm sorry, but do you understand fiction?

I am dead serious with that question. You get that characters' reactions and actions are driven by in-universe motivations, right? You understand that they are reacting not to a media trope but to a thing that is actually happening to them in-universe? You understand that she doesn't know it's a magical girl show pilot, that she doesn't know anything is fictional, that she is being written to respond to something the way someone who's a magical girl nut would respond to it if it happened in front of them?

Because if you do, and you're still annoyed by it, I don't think magical girls are really a genre you should be watching. Lots of magical girl shows have civilian girls who are thrilled to meet a magical girl. "She's just like me!" is an incredibly common plot beat. (Again: meeting a superhero in-person tends to be a high point for people.) What, are you going to send in a complaint every time a girl gushes about a magical girl in-universe in any show, because you've seen magical girls before, so there's no reason to be impressed?

Genuinely I do not know how you watch this scene and come away with the take that it's uncool for a character who is obsessed with something to voice her joy that the thing is not only real, but someone like her is doing it. I get that Gen Z and Millennials are deeply irony poisoned and expressing that you like something is bad. Sincerity is bad, openly enjoying things is bad, to be cool one must be detached and uninterested, blahblahblah.

But if that's your preferred kind of character, magical girls are not your genre. If you're allergic to in-character reactions that make sense for the character because they're not like how you would react, maybe stick to Deadpool or webtoons where everyone knows they're in a webtoon.

Respectfully, I think this show's characterization is too complex for you to understand. You might want to go back to the MCU or something.

--

[whoishotteranimepolls]

You are aware that Ace and Sabo are brothers. That ship is incest. It would be best if you took it down because of how problematic that is

Warning, this turned into a rant

They are adopted/sworn brothers, so the ship is not technically incest.

If that ship bothers you, several One Piece ships should bother you in between adopted brothers or sworn brothers, but I have seen zero complaints. This includes Buggy/Shanks, those two were raised as brothers as far as we know, and Marco/Ace, who became sworn brothers. Remember, Ace joined The Whitebeard Pirates, AKA the Sons of Whitebeard. They all are sworn brothers. So let's please be coherent in your hypocrisy

Isn't this Tumblr? I can't be that old because I remember the heyday of Superwholock. The two most popular Supernatural ships were Destiel and WinCest. Remember, they were so popular that the Supernatural show even addressed this in its meta episodes. What the hell happened? And I remember the Ouran High School Host Club speech where the twins said the whole appeal behind them is when you have two attractive guys who struggle between their attraction and their friendship. Plus, because they're twins, it makes their relationship taboo so even more intriguing. So they were hyper-aware of what they were doing with their whole queerbating/twincest thing, and Tumblr ate that crap up.

It's one of those things where it's fiction, so it's not real, so it's okay because no actual person is being harmed by whatever problematic content is portrayed in whatever fictional media. I personally have zero problems with the most problematic content. But that doesn't include all problematic content. I do have lines when it comes to child characters and lollies. That's why there are rules on my blog. But I can also separate fantasy from reality, and if you can't, you probably need to talk to someone about that because that's a problem.

Again, seriously, what the hell happened to the fandom culture on Tumblr? Why are the moral purity police everywhere? I joined fandoms and Tumblr to escape the oppressive Bible thumpers that I grew up around. Why am I now encountering more oppressive moral policing online from fandom idiots than I do from the Church Karens in real life? I live in the conservative Bible Belt. Those Church Karens are everywhere and in everyone's business

Sorry for my rant. I am tired, and I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened. I've been on Tumblr on and off since 2010, and I feel like I hardly recognize this community anymore. Now, I have been made aware of the anti-shippers/ anti-fandom movement, and I know it's not just a minor thing because this is something I have found multiple academic research papers on. I'll link a good one. But I pray it's something else cuz these are just kids who don't know better at the moment. I hope one day they will realize this behavior is the equivalent of the Boomers blaming all of the Gen Z and Millennial behaviors. They don't like on violent video games. Again, sorry for the rant

[storkmuffin]

The Magic of San of Ateez (1/tbd)

#1: Fangirling San Is Intergenerational (a real life example)

During the unusually long Lunar New Year Holiday, 2025, I spent a lot of time, inevitably, with Family (not family, but Family, you get me?). And because I'd recently concluded that not being shit to women who like entirely harmless things with enthusiasm is actually really important feminist practice, I decided to 'come out' (sorry for appropriating the language but you'll see why I do it) about my interest in the Kpop Idol group Ateez.

I comandeered the remote, in other words. It was in a quiet moment after all the food had been cooked (by women) and eaten (by everyone) and the dishes done too (by women - not all families are like this but my Family is). Up until then what had been on the giant 8K flatscreen had been news, followed by old soccer clip compilations on some sports channel, followed by old fight compilations on another sports channel where really big barefoot men wearing only panties slip on each other's blood as they try to make the other one unconscious by punching him in the face, and back to news.

I turned on the below- Ice on My Teeth performed by Ateez for the MBC 가요대제전 2024.

Oh. My. Gosh. The. Comments.

The choicest one was this: "I suppose everyone has to do all the silly things at some point, inevitably, before they die? So if you were a good, smart teenager and you don't care at all about Idols and all that silly nonsense during that time, you do it later, when you're all grown up." (Derogatory) (Mocking)

The one I'd been expecting was this one, which also happened: "I have never understood those ridiculous 빠순이(derogatory) who follow 연예인 around and ruin their lives, and I never ever thought you'd ever be one of them!" Madam, I literally just put a video clip from youtube on, to watch, because a composer, multiple studio sound technicians, 8 singer/dancers, a choreographer, a dozen back up dancers, stage technicians, camera crew, a director and an editor put a show together for me to watch. Why are we talking about lives being ruined?

Sidebar- Etymology of 빠순이: I always thought that it was a neologism consisting of 오빠 + 순이 (kind of a common, girl next door name of a certain previous generation, like "Betty" or a "Jenny") and it is actually that. But the book by the ethnomusicoloist taught me that it had a second, sexually contempuous meaning: 바 (bar) + 순이 = barmaid + 순이 = whore + 순이. To be a fangirl stan means to be a woman who is expressing, in some way, desire, and in public, and this is shameful. By the by, 빠순이 has been appropriated again by the original set of people it was designed to harm, much like I understand queer to have been done by that community, definitely by millennials but possibly even before that.

The ethnomusicologist discussed having an 입덕부정기 (a period in which one denies that they have, in fact, joined a fandom) for her current most favorite band. She doesn't go into why as a person who studies music she had this internal block against actually liking music and performance but then again, I don't think she needs to say it. We know why.

So, just to be pissy, I put that shit on repeat, and then something really nice happened!

"This is a really fun song!" (yes it is!) And then! "Oh these boys have a really Korean way of singing!" (someone in her 70s). And I perked right up. What do you mean??? "It's just very Korean. They sound like they know our traditional music."

Cue me FREAKING OUT internally but very calmly saying, "You are probably right! Because they had a Chuseok show one time, where they were all making 전, and they just started singing 판소리 among themselves. it sounded practiced to me, too! And, a lot of the newer Kpop does this on purpose - they bring in pansori vocalizations and instrumentals and rhythms, because overseas fans really like it!" (I may have gotten less calm by the end of this.)

So, thus encouraged, I put on this: Killing Voice Ateez, where dance pop makers come out and sing acapella to prove that they can.

And immediately, San's voice popped out for someone. "He sounds like Steve Yoo 유승준!" she said, pointing. For her, this is the highest compliment anyone can give a Korean Idol singer. Such a pretty tone, such clarity, such emotional appeal!

Sidebar: Steve Yoo really did have a lovely voice. He wasn't a bad rapper either even though his stuff sounds so dated now (inevitably, perhaps, since he was active in the 1990s). And Steve Yoo has been entirely erased from all histories of Kpop. It was only after I heard his name in context of how much San sounds like him (clarity of tenor as well as the emotional resonance) that I realized this. Several of the books I read did abbreviated histories of Kpop and Korean pop music, and mentioned representative groups & individuals in successive 'generations' of Idols, some of whom I have never heard of, but Steve Yoo, who was a big huge deal, is so banished that they never mention him, even though he was such an immense star.

WELL IN THAT CASE I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU.

His handsomness kind of went without comment beyond a nod of agreement, even though I prompted, because Idols are supposed to be handsome. But what seemed to grab attention was how 올바른 (proper) he seemed.

Responses: Well mannered, demure, well spoken, respectful.

Me: He's the son of a taekwondo 관장!* He's from 남해!

Sidebar: Getting Taekwondo to the status of an international sport and an official, long-standing part of the Olympics was a major national project leading up to the 1988 Olympics and beyond. They fortified what was already there to distill what we consider the best and most proper parts of our culture - being powerful and fit and fast, yes, but also elegant, refined, well-mannered and respectful. When you want to show a shorthand for a character going from like, being shady to a proper, upstanding member of society, you will have him get into street brawls at the start and end with him becoming a taekwondo instructor.

Responses: Ohhh!! He's a 경상도 boy?? OOOH. And he sings so well! His English pronunciation is so good!

And then, and I have no idea if this will actually translate into English, we had a good laugh about how even now, even though regional dialects, especially strong ones like Southern 경상도, are considered 'cool' because standard Seoul speech has taken over completely, people from my family's root region exhibit a 'change of voice' when they speak Seoul. You have to open up your throat to make 경상도 sounds - the volume goes up, the sound gets 'rounder' and 'bolder,' so when someone whose native speech pattern is 경상도 speaks Seoul Standard, they come off to fellow 경상도 speakers like they're being very cautious. We tend to find this both adorable and comical, in ourselves and each other. So we all cooed at him, whenever he was talking to Lee Mujin.

And see, this is the magic of San. He will do insane gyrations on stage, make the most arrogant sexy bad boy face you ever saw, but 70 something Korean grandmas will find his style of singing comfortingly familiar amidst all the imported African beats, and appreciate the purity and gentleness he's able to project. BLESS!

[maddragonfruit]

hello it's me again the person who asked you to rant about your aus, plz strap in this is gonna be so long-

"So all the sides go to bed as normal one night, and when they wake, they're all in like completely different bedrooms and houses to were they fall asleep, seemingly with strangers in them.

ooooooooo, everything is probably feels a lot more tangible now cuz they're in the real world right? And like I headcanon that Roman wakes up with a lot of fanfare in his room, like birds singing and the lights glowing in a spotlight above his head, so all of that being gone is red flag.

After a while, and from the prompting of their "Families", they all separately figure out they've been made into teenagers.

How concerned are each of them about this, how worried are the families. Like is this a thing that happens often, do their kids just get possesed by random people all the time?

Now, these teenagers before the sides went into them, all still somehow have the same names and interests as the sides, even though they're in the same world as Thomas, I don't know, maybe it's a wild coincidence.

huh- strange coincidence- are the teens fans of Sanders Sides

Patton is the oldest out of five children living at home, and the third oldest of seven total. His "parents" kinda leave him alone most of the time, as they have much younger children to look after, so it's not hard for him to sneak away to meet up with the others, though he does have to babysit a lot.

Poor parentified older sibling- Whose the 'closest' to the Patton who isn't a side of someone's personality? Are they concerned about him? What are his older siblings doing?

Logan is an only child, his "Parents" are both very overbearing and supportive, think rainbow dashes parents.

Logan!!! Support network for you! Go you! (except helicopter parents can suck so also poor Logan, im sorry you have no space) Does corporeal Logan also have anger issues? Is he in therapy for it? I feel like his parents might do that for him! I bet he's in a lot of clubs and acedemic stuff at school.

Virgil's "Parents" are those millennial grey/beige people, who both incredibly disapprove of their "sons" emo "Phase" he doesn't get on with them much.

oh no, poor Virgil- how much like space is Virgil given? Like how much self expression is he allowed? Does he have to wear like grey sweaters and slacks? Did his parents cut his hair for him? Did corporeal Virgil give himself like peircings or whatever? He prolly has to do his makeup at school or something right?

I'm not quite sure for Janus, I'm thinking either a Single mum/dad, or a foster family, but he has a little sister.

for a second there i thought you were talking about him being a single teen parent lol- if he has a foster family is his sister a foster sister or a bio sister? How close are they? How close is Janus to his parents? Does corporeal Janus own snakes? His scales are probably just a birthmark or whatever right? Is Corporeal Janus planning on getting snake scales tattooed over his birthmark?

Roman and Remus don't meet their "parents" until the weekend after the wake up there, they very much just leave enough money for food and leave.

Extremely neglectful parents for the win! Roman's in the drama department right? What's Remus doing? Is he a big like biology student? Does he like art class and making hyperrealistic props

Obviously none of the sides actually view these people as family, or any sort of authority figure, it's more strangers who they live with.

honestly pretty angsty for the families that actually care about their kids. Like your kid starts being more evasive and skipping school and stuff and then they vanish. They don't seem to really care for you like at all and it doesn't feel like a regular teenager thing. Sometimes it feels like they've become a parody of the kid you raised.

Back to the story, all the sides eventually meet up in school, as they all either saw each other on the bus/during lunch/have a class together.

are the sides in different grades? I feel like Logan's 'parents' would drive him to school. How close do the sides all live from the school.

They manage to figure out where they are, which is a few states away from Florida. (I don't know American geography or high schools very well, as I'm not from there, so if I do write this, the high school will probably be more like a New Zealand one)

I know a lot about high schools in America lol (not public schools though which im assuming they go to) <- went to private school in the US. I'd rec using a neighboring state since it'll still prolly take like 6 ish hours to get there (if they dont get pulled over for stealing a car/for speeding and get recognized) South Carolina (7 hours fastest route)

The sides all try and figure out how to get to Florida, and how to get back to side form instead of teenager form. They also all have previous commitments, such as jobs or after school activities, which is annoying when you don't know what's going on. Remus, Roman and Patton's parents will let them waive these things, Janus, Logan and Virgil's won't.

all of this is v frustrating. Logan is prolly better off, since he's all about schedules ya and Roman is v good at pretending he knows what's going on but Virgil probably has a nervous breakdown or whatever. Patton goes home after school and his 'sibling' looks at him and is like 'shouldn't you be at work' or whatever

After a while, they manage to get a car, and just all run-away to Florida, Thomas's house.

Do they steal the car lol?

In Thomas's perspective, he's panicking, as all of his sides have gone missing. He gets a knock on the door, and it's these six random teenagers, all claiming to be his sides? Are these six of his fans? Are they all delusional?

poor Thomas! Does them knowing his secrets convince them? Or do they have some sort of powers or somethingn

After a while, Thomas believes them and lets them in, the issue is, they're all missing children, as they stole a car and ran away, and he doesn't want to be arrested.

makes sense makes sense

That's all I have, I assume at some point they figure out how to get the sides back in Thomas's head, but I don't know how, maybe they all die?"

id feel bad for the kids living their normal lives if they die- maybe Roman Virgil and Janus set up a like occult possesion ritual or something (Roman cuz he's creative, Virgil cuz its a spooky thing, and Janus because he gives off 'knowing occult things' vibes... maybe Logan too-)

OMG THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!! I'll try an answer all of these!!

In my mind it's a combination of everything's more tangible, and these are obviously still different bedrooms compared to what they usually sleep in. Like, in a wip I wrote of this Au, Remus wakes up and jumps out of bed, only to find he's two meters above ground in the top half of a bunk bed instead of his mattress who he went to sleep on, and when he hits the ground, he finds out that instead of his body enjoying the pain and that kinda idea, it just really really hurts in his ankle.

The families aren't aware they're kids have all been body-swapped, it's more that they're like "Don't forget to drop your sister off at school!" or "remember to bring that library book with you to school, I don't want to get anymore emails about it being overdue." and Logan, Patton, Janus and Virgil all kinda figure out enough off what's going on to make it to high school. Remus and Roman don't until a couple days later, as theirs nobody around except for themselves and they don't know what one earth is going on.

In my mind, it's a complete and utter coincidence. You ask any of these teenager if they know what Sanders Sides is and the answer would be "...Sanders? Like the vine guy?"

I'm not quite sure what you meant by this, so I'm going to assume you meant the sibling non-side Patton was closest with, who was his 7 year old brother Jeremy, while Jeremy did notice something was slightly wrong with Patton, (Not remembering facts about himself, general being slightly more mature than a seventeen year old) it wasn't noticeable enough for anyone else to take his concerns seriously. Patton's older sister (Second Oldest) is traveling with her friends, and Patton's older brother (Oldest) is moving into a new house/apartment with his wife.

He is in therapy because of anger issues. However, corporeal Logan thinks it's pointless, so when side Logan shows up and says how much of a waste of time this is and he has better things to be doing, and refuses to speak, It's not much or a surprise for his therapist, at least not enough to be concerning. He is in the most clubs, chess club, debate team, math club (Is that a thing) generally a lot.

Corporeal Virgil is barely given any space, he has pierced his own ears and managed to keep it a secret, but aside from that the emo phase (Which he did already have, he just didn't have any way of expressing it) is trapped inside. Side Virgil has to beg the others to get him make-up/accessories/clothes. He buys that spray hair dye and has to wash it all out everytime the school day ends.

I've decided on single parent, though I don't know what gender yet so we're gonna go with nonbinary. Corporeal Janus is kinda close with his sister? She's 13 and currently has a lot of friends and other things going on, but she thinks he's pretty cool. Corporeal Janus does have a birthmark, and while I haven't put much thought into it, he is going to do that because that's sick.

Corporeal Remus enjoys biology and chemistry, he's also part of the backstage crew in charge of making props, and he does pottery.

They are in different grades. I'm not sure how american grades work. Corporeal Patton and Janus are 17, Corporeal Logan and Virgil are 16, and Roman and Remus are both 15.

Logan's parents drive him to school as they live in a nice neighborhood far away from the school. Patton drops all of his younger siblings off at primary school and high school by using his parents car, he lives like 20 min away from school. Virgil and Janus take the bus, it's how they find each other. Remus and Roman walk cause they live close by.

They appeared in South Carolina, it's been decided.

Yeah, Janus has a part-time job. Logan has a bunch of club things and therapy as mentioned above. Patton also has a part-time job, and he has to baby-sit often. Roman has play rehearsal. Remus has behind the scenes meetings. I don't know what Virgil does, his "Parents" have probably signed him up for something but I don't know what screams "Millennial grey activity!" to me.

The car is stolen.

The sides convince Thomas through secrets you'd have to be a hard-core stalker to know about, and also conversations they've had with Thomas that weren't on camera, as there's quite literally no way except for Thomas and the sides to know about those.

I really like the idea of a possession ritual actually! Just Thomas sitting in the middle of a circle with all the others around, and them all communally possessing Thomas to get back to normal is a really cool idea that I'll probably use.

Thank you so much for this ask, it was so fun to get and read. I really loves seeing all of your questions and reactions to the original post.

[tenearthquakes]

hello Josie ! i fell down the rabbit hole of Jos verstappen lore from ur and gratisdiamanten's (definitely spelled that wrong) blogs, and i was wondering if u had any more resources for jos/verstappen family lore, or just other pieces of insane lore u'd like to share? sorry for this is weird, idek if u're still hyperfixated on this but I thought id ask ! (if u happen to know, im v curious why their acc randomly became inaccessible a few hours ago?)

hello! ansel says he blocked you for crime of no age in bio but he's happy to chat w you about jos on discord or something. I am not so fixated the verstappen family history these days (moved on to slovene ski jumpers) but i'll indulge again.... just this once.... for you. i have no recollection of what i've shared before.

jos verstappens paternal grandfather (who he is named after) is listed by the dutch government as a potential nazi collaborator

same grandfather also profiteered off the war - after his town was bombed to smithereens he opened a scrapyard to sell the ruins of his town off. he literally made bank off this too.

jos's dad grew up in a trailer with three siblings on said scrapyard

the scrapyard was full of semi feral cats that jos grew up playing with

the first time jos ever saw karting was at 8 years old leaving the church in his little suit after his first communion. they were running a little street race with the hay bales and he thought I Want To Do That

his dad (frans) was an ex marine and extremely mid competitive cyclist.

jos has a half brother (from his dad) barely older than max. his half brother also karted.

the affectionate nickname josje that dutch/limburgers use for him is unquestionably a girls name

jos got. locked in the van and left to bang his fists against the window for crashing the kart

dutch people fucking hated jos him and mocked him for being a lame wife beater trailer trash hick from limburg (a LOT of dutch people hate limburgers and see them as miserable, ungenerous, and cheap) who couldn't drive for shit

jos subsequently. did not raise his children in the netherlands and still does not live there (voluntarily pays MORE TAX to live in belgium)

he also did not follow his family's naming pattern with his children. down the verstappen paternal line the men are alternately named fransiscus and johannes for like 4 generations. jos said no and instead has the most millennial baby name choices imaginable

jos really encouraged sophie to keep racing/go back to it

jos did not want max in a kart til he was at least six. sophie put the baby in the kart.

He went to literally one charity event ever in his entire f1 career (that we can find). it was an AIDS fundraiser.

raymond (jos and now max's manager) met jos because he was complaining at frans's bar about his kart being broken and frans said I KNOW A GUY (who was jos) and then raymond left his insurance job to help manage jos (raymond took over managing jos entirely in his final season in f1)

raymond was at the aids fundraiser with jos

verstappen dot com has a number of old images of a very. bed rumpled early morning jos. taken by raymond.

then raymond went on to have an office in the verstappen residence to manage jos's fansite and he changed vic's diapers and drove max to school and now he lives in monaco in the apartment below lando

jos mentored raymond's son in karting (he now drives for Verstappen dot com)

jos is getting very good at rally and has said multiple times he wish he started earlier

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It started out with a kiss, how did it ended like this?

Pairing/Au: Young!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Rating: +18, NSFW

Summary: You meet Joel at a party, everything is fine, he's beautiful... will it end well?

Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, the story is set in 2004 but there is no Sarah so Joel is a 24 year old guy (calculated on Game!Joel's age) who went to university and has no child, smut, angst, a lot of kissing, meet cute?, sex in public places, risk of being caught, reader has breasts and vagina, she wears shorts, a tank top, heels and a dress, no other description is given of her except that she smokes (it happens only once in the ff though), fingering (f receiving), dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (wrap it up irl!), reader is on the pill, cream pie, alcohol consumption, smoking, infidelity, plot twist, dubcon (I’m putting that here because reader is drunk but not so drunk, she gives explicit consent but you know, just to be sure.), brief Tommy appearance (is that a warning? LOL poor Tommy, love him), pussy pronouns, pet names (mostly baby) a lot of swearing, very small age gap but I'm pointing it out anyway, reader is 21 and Joel is 24, some insert of reader’s thoughts, no happy ending (sorry 💀). This story is inspired by something that happened to me personally so please please be particularly gentle with it (you always are tbh, thanks a lot❤️).

The places are places that really exist, they are in Italy but I still tried to leave them neutral so that you can imagine the setting in several places in the world where there is the sea, at least I hope. Where I live it is legal for beach resorts to organize beach parties at certain times established by law, as for music, the songs mentioned are songs that I personally love, I think that more or less everyone knows them, right? Hashtag Millennials music lol

English is not my first language, no beta or proofreading, apologies for any mistake! 🙇🏻‍♀️

Header and dividers by me, sorry if they look like sh*t, I tried my best 🥲

Archive tags: @pedrostories

“Are you a dream or are you real?”

You roll your eyes, while this guy who has approached you and has been dancing next to you for 15 minutes has grabbed you by the waist and whispered these words to you.

Are men really convinced they can seduce with this bullshit?

You turn around thinking you’ll find the usual maniac face who reaches out with shameless hands.

You’re absolutely ready to tell him to go to hell.

Oh.

He’s a tall guy, probably slightly older than you, messy black curls, scruffy beard and mustache and big, gorgeous brown eyes.

Not bad at all.

But it doesn’t mean you can go by your mother’s favorite way of thinking “he’s handsome so he can’t be evil”, it’s fucking stupid and you know it. She used to allow you to ride in your male friend’s car only because he was so hot and wealthy and his family was well known and respected.

If only she had known… but anyway, he belongs to the past, to a group of toxic people you don't hang out with anymore.

Your eyebrow raises and your mouth tug into the most ironic smile you could possibly pull out.

“I’m not Rihanna, you know? So cut off your bullshit”

He’s surprised and he stands there for a second with his mouth open looking dumb.

And then he’s at it again “You’re gorgeous” he whispers in your ear while the music is pumping hard from the disco speakers you are in and he still holds your waist, pushing you towards him “you are the most beautiful girl in this place”

“Yeah, sure” you reply, with a mixture of irritation and pity. He is visibly a little drunk, he moves awkwardly near you trying to appear sensual when in reality he’s as graceful as a brown bear.

You laugh, shaking your head, at least he’s funny.

You lean in close to his ear to make him hear you better “please leave me, I’m with my friends”

Friends who are giggling behind his back giving you the thumbs up.

You look into his alcohol-blurred pleading eyes and damn, this guy definitely knows how to get something. You feel sorry for him, and he’s cute. If he wasn’t so cute you would already left, no point in beating around the bush. You decide to give him a chance, after all it will be a one night stand at most and you’re single, there’s nothing wrong with it.

He has very large hands that wrap around your hips in just the right way and you love hands, it’s one of the first things you notice in a guy. You’re a sucker for a nice beard too and his beard is just the right length to make you want to feel it rub against your skin.

His lips look great too, plumped and perfectly designed, and his nose… big nose. Oh, yes, another box to tick. Big noses are the best.

You put your hands around his neck, you’re reaching him because you’re wearing the highest heels you’ve ever had. His body feels nice against yours, giving you shiver of pleasure down your back.

He towers over you even like this.

Your hips rub together as you dance and his hands end up on your ass. He grabs your cheeks through your skimpy shorts and give them a nice squeeze.

Wow. Audacious. You like this. It looks like this guy knows what he’s doing, horrible opening line aside.

He asks in your ear if you want something to drink and you accept, he takes your hand and escorts you through the crowd to the bar. You appreciate how he made his way through making sure not to lose you.

He leans over the counter to get the bartender's attention and you take the opportunity to take a peek at his butt. Really nice.

You are at a beach resort’s party that you always go to, it was supposed to be held on the beach but the weather didn't allow it so they moved it to this club a few km away.

You know the dj and the bartenders by name but let him make his moves and order drinks, while you nod at your favorite bartender girl and she gives you a wink and her lip reading says "nice catch”.

He looks all proud while he gives you your glass, his big brown eyes are crinkled at the edges along with his lips curved into a grin. He’s so damn cute when he smiles, you tell to yourself.

He takes a sip and he asks you your name and obviously compliments it. “I’m Joel” he tells you in your ear and he reach out to shake your hand.

You smile back profusely and your eyes glare at his biceps hugged perfectly his white t-shirt.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you let it out, your friends are still in the middle of the dance floor but you get a text on your phone saying “He’s really handsome, go girl! If you need anything call us, ok? Have fun!”

You roll your eyes grinning, everybody apparently approves.

Within minutes you discover that he’s 24, he studies architecture, plays the guitar and he has a little garage band with his friends and then you shout “Oh my god, I love this song!” You grab his arm and drag him back to the center of the dance floor. Joel doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He bounces next to you to the beat of Mr. Brightside as you both sing along at the top of your lungs. Halfway through the second verse when the song says “it was only a kiss” Joel grabs you in his arms and pushes you toward a pillar that lines the dance floor, surprising you. He slams into you and kisses you, deeply, hungrily, knocking out what little air you have left after dancing.

His tongue enters your mouth forcefully, licking greedily. A little rough and his beard and mustache are lightly scratching your skin but you don’t mind. In fact, the rush of adrenaline as he pushed you made your heart speed at an insane race and the way he slammed you against the wall made you instantly wet. You feel your panties sticking as you kiss him back just as frantically. The best kiss you’ve ever had, you have to be honest, he’s really good.

You’re panting in his mouth, moaning as he insistently rub his hips on yours, you can feel his erection pushing against you.

Fuck, who would have expected it from the clumsy boy who tried to hook you up so awkwardly before?

You can taste the rum and cola he ordered on his tongue and a faint hint of cigarette mixed with the smell of clean laundry and something else, animalistic and sexy, probably his slightly sweaty skin.

His hands are roaming at your body, on your neck, over your shoulders, on your back as you arch into him searching for more friction, and then on your ass again giving another really nice squeeze.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed someone on the dance floor and it probably won’t be the last but no one has ever made you this feral unless you were completely drunk. You can’t blame the alcohol tonight because you only had one drink, it’s him. He makes you dizzy.

“Wanna talk a little bit outside?” you ask him panting when he pulls away from you to catch his breath.

“Yeah, talk” he says mischievously “of course, let’s go talk”

You laugh, releasing yourself from his grip and tugging at his shirt as you move towards the exit.

He follows you immediately, putting his hand on your back as you walk out. Several people are smoking near the entrance, you pass by a couple of girls who are looking Joel up and down.

You turn the corner and find a fairly isolated spot. You can still hear the music, even if it’s muffled.

You're in the back of the place, he sits on a large wooden crate which likely contained alcohol or equipment and pulls you towards him, between his legs. You take his lips back into yours, lightly nibbling his lower lip and filling your hands with his broad back, caressing it, moving up to his neck.

There is nothing you want more than to feel his tongue dance with yours again, you push gently and he lets you in. You start kissing him greedily, just as much as he did before. His giggle vibrates on your lips “hey, weren’t we supposed to talk?” You laugh looking into his chocolate eyes “oh of course, let me explain better” and you kiss him again, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

He’s so damn good.

It's not very often that you instantly feel this good around a guy, much less feel as confident as you do now, but the adoring way he looks at you and his big strong arms wrapped around your body are comforting, they make you feel at ease.

The September air is cool and the place is surrounded by pine trees, you would almost be cold if it weren’t for Joel.

His hand moves to the front of your shorts, sliding it over the zipper and pressing into your crotch. You let out a moan.

“Can I?”

“Yes” you breathe, nodding.

You’re craving this.

He undoes the button and slides a hand inside, making room for himself past your underwear, sliding a finger between your folds.

“Soaked wet, huh?” he murmurs “fucking amazing”

His index and middle fingers move over your clit, rubbing and applying pressure as you bury your face in his neck, sinking your teeth into his flesh, gently, and then licking the part as you feel him twitch beneath you.

You whimper “Fuck, please don’t stop”

“I won’t baby, I’m going to make your little pussy screaming for me” He slides his two fingers into your opening while his thumb continues to work rapidly on your bundle of nerves.

He begins to pump into you, relentless and precise, curling into you, hitting your special spot, his fingers are thick and long and dig into you like they always have.

“You’re squeezing my fingers so good, keep going babe, keep going for me”

You’re bucking your hips into his palm, riding on the edge of your pleasure, trying desperately to not completely lose it because you would want that to last longer but you can’t, you’re literally gushing over his hand after a couple of minutes, he’s too good at it.

He lets you work off your orgasm as he holds you close and softly kisses the skin just below your ear.

“God, Joel…” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby, just let it washes over you… and by the way if we weren't out here right now I would have made you come on my tongue”

“Mmmm i would love to try sometimes” you smile softly at him, eyes still faded by your orgasm. And the thing is, you want more. You’re on his neck again, sucking and licking and you whisper on his skin. Things are heating up so much you feel like you have to tell him so you look into his eyes and just spit that out of your mouth “I’m not doing sex with strangers that I just met, I’m sorry”

For a moment, just a moment, losing yourself into his gaze, you think about reconsider your position.

“I swear to God, this damn dude” you think.

You feel your integrity wavering, just a little.

“Well, it’s not a problem, we can do other things” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him with a smirk “What would you have in mind, let's hear”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth, holding you close to his body as he moves his hips against yours, he unzips his pants and awkwardly pulls them down with one hand, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He takes your hand and puts it on top of it “could you uhm… touch it a little, maybe… if you like”

You feel your edges getting smoothed out, he just made you cry out of pleasure with his fingers and the least you can do is do something for him.

“Why not” you answer lasciviously “it can be done”

It’s big, much bigger than you expected, and it's rock hard. You wrap your hand around it and can barely hold it all. This guy also has one of the most beautiful cocks you've ever seen, it’s unbelievable. You run your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that's already dripping down his length, and begin to stroke him.

You go up and down its shaft, stopping at the tip, lingering over it and you feel him twitching underneath your touch. “Yeah, baby, you’re so good at it” his voice is low and hoarse, his eyes darker than before, almost all pupils as you continue to work on his big fat cock.

Someone told you before that you’re pretty good at it and Joel seems to agree “Fuck, your hand feels amazing” you smirk feeling proud.

“I have an idea…” Joel whispers, “you could… uh fuck… maybe… use it” he stammers, and you look at him confused not understanding what he means “we already talked about this Joel and I have to admit you have a really magnificent cock but I'm not going to put it in”

“No of course…but you can uhm…wait I'll show you” he opens your shorts again and you get nervous

“What?” what is this guy going to do?

He pulls them down just enough to leave you in your underwear but holding them up for you so they don’t end up on the ground.

He gently takes your hand off his cock and takes it himself, holds it straight and brings you closer “you can keep your panties on, I swear nothing will happen that you don't want” and starts rubbing it on you, on your crack covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You whine “oh fuck” you’re seeing the point of it now and it’s unbelievably hot.

“Use it, babe. Use it to play with yourself” You don't wait long to take the lead, you pick it up again and rub it all over yourself to your heart's content, using its length all over you. Like a big dildo, but better, you can feel every vein throbbing, its heat and wetness through the thin fabric.

It’s almost overwhelming, using his hard shaft to get you off, you squirm as you insist on you clit, letting out moans that sound outrageously pornografic. And he’s getting on the edge too, you can feel it under your fingers and in his deep rasping whimpers that rise from the bottom of his throat.

How did you not think of that? It feels like the most satisfying dry humping you’ve ever done, and you’re a master at it. Your pillow and stuffy animals at home can confirm.

Reaching your peak you clench your jaw and try to stifle the sound of your orgasm, but a long slow moan still makes its way out of you.

“I’m almost there,” Joel whispers to you, his face flushed, his eyes glazed over, you sink a hand into his curls and pull away from him to make him come between your fingers.

His whole body is tense, his mouth agape, he squints his eyes, sticky white streams smear your palm and he comes, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, this was…God” he takes you back in his arms, still shaking as his pleasure run through his entire body.

As soon as he regain the ability to speak you hear his tempting voice whispering in your ear “you liked that, huh?”

“I…more than like it, I loved it” and his laugh vibrates on your neck.

One of your hands is wrapped around his neck while the other is suspended in the air with the mess he just made dripping between your fingers.

You shake it a little and lick the rest, slowly sliding your fingers into your mouth one at a time, running your tongue carefully over each one. He looks at you, mesmerized, “Oh shit, if you keep going like this I’m going to get hard again.”

You giggle and shrug “What am I supposed to do? Wet wipes are in my bag that remained inside”

He laugh “Well, You don't have sex with strangers but you're still cheeky, huh? Good, so uhm… My friends will probably be looking for me to go back home but…can I have your number?” He plead and you say yes, obviously yes.

He takes his phone out of his back pocket waving at you and you grab it, after you’ve fixed your fingers and your shorts, typing down your number. “You know I live 3 hours from here unfortunately but we can manage that I think” he says huskily and you nod.

Yes, you think, I can manage that for you.

It was all so good it felt unreal.

And you know something is actually off when he asks you “do you have a boyfriend?”

Why this question? And why now?

Of course not, you don't have a boyfriend otherwise you wouldn't be here.

It seemed more than obvious to you.

“No, I’m single” you reply, starting to feel really stupid.

And you know something unpleasant is about to materialize between you, a big elephant in a china shop.

You move away from him, scrutinizing his face, feeling a lump in your throat as you ask him with a shaking voice, “Why, you?”

“Oh yes, yes I have a girlfriend” he answers you candidly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world after having done those things with you. Maybe he is even convinced that he did not cheat on her because there was no penetration.

“Are you kidding me? Do you think it’s a brilliant idea to tell me now?” You are speechless.

It’s not like you promised each other something so this confession is unwanted, unnecessary and almost cruel because you were here to have fun and now you feel bad.

And there he stands, puppy dog ​​eyes wide open, like the most innocent person. You would love to slap him.

“It's nothing serious” he dares to say “and we have problems, I want to leave her” blablabla, the usual repertoire of excuses that you have heard a thousand times and that have been passed on to any of your friends.

“Yeah, like I’ve never heard it before… Whatever” You hiss.

“But it’s true, baby!” He whines. He fucking whines, trying to grab your arm “Come here”

“No, we’re done” you take steps back while telling him “go back to your girlfriend”

You can't even look him in the eye anymore "don't text me, okay? I can’t do this”

You feel so dumb and frustrated.

It could have ended there and you would have been fine, it would have been a nice memory.

A guy who made you come twice in a row, great. But then he asked for your number so you thought he could have been something more, like a friend with benefits? A date? Maybe even a boyfriend one day? You’re not one to commit with the first guy you meet but things between the two of you were so hot and steamy and maybe in a little space in your brain you got somehow hopeful about him, that he was someone you could trust.

You don't even understand why he told you that now, to make you feel like a bitch? He ruined everything.

“Yeah…ok” he murmur looking at the ground. He seems really sad, but fuck, too bad for him, you don’t give a damn.

You turn and stride back into the club, looking for your friends.

He follows you inside saying at your back “I’m sorry”

Oh no, you think, you’re not.

You find your friends who immediately notice that you are visibly upset “What happened” asks one of them, taking you to a corner. You look at her and say “Guess what?”

Your friend shrugs and lets out a sigh full of disdain “he has a girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes” you cuss.

Your friend hug you “honey, I’m sorry. Let’s go home, come on” You grab your things from behind the DJ booth and walk out of there. You don’t see Joel on the way out and at this point you don’t want to know where he is.

A couple of days later, you’re at the café having a coffee with your friends. It’s afternoon, it’s hot, and you’re sitting at the tables outside, under white big umbrellas, chatting. There’s a beautiful sun and a pleasant breeze, one of your friend is telling you about a very strange dream she had, and you’re all laughing when your phone vibrates on the table.

It's Joel. What a nerve this guy has.

“Fuck” you hiss and your friends immediately get nervous “what’s going on?”

You roll your eyes and reply “it’s Joel”

“Oh my god” your friend says “and what did he write?”

You click on the notification and read “Hi, I’m sorry about Saturday but I promise my girlfriend and I are over. Can I come visit you so we can talk?”

And you think, “Who can guarantee that? Who can tell me that you don’t have a foot in both camps? I don’t like that. I don’t want that”

Your friends tell you the exact same thing, you live in two different cities, you’ll never know if he really left her, this guy wants to play a double game. It’s always like this.

Fuck Joel.

“There’s nothing to talk about, don’t text me again, please”

Forget about him, you tell to yourself.

Yes, he’s handsome and he made you feel good but no guy will make you his lover. You deserve better and the other girl deserves better too. You don’t even know her but you feel sorry for her.

It’s that time of year again, you’re at the beach with your friends at one of your favorite resort’s beach parties.

You move through the hot, dancing crowd to reach the bar while the dj plays Rock & Roll Queen by the Subways.

You order shots of tequila, salt and lemon, take the salt holder and sprinkle some on the back of your hand just under your thumb along with your friends, you carefully take the lemon slice without dropping the salt and hold the glass in the other hand.

You lick the salt, down the shots in one gulp and pop the lemon in your mouth.

The tequila burns your throat but the lemon gives immediate relief and freshness.

It’s good, it’s all good, it’s your number 4 shots and at this point you’re starting to feel pleasantly drunk, your head is spinning a little and the pounding sound of the speakers makes you feel high but you're still fine, having fun as usual.

6 is your limit, after 6 you’re fucked up.Just another one, you think, and then I’ll stop.

You go back to the middle of the dance floor and hear the beginning of Killing in the name of by Rage Against the Machine. There’s something about this song that makes you feel like you can conquer the whole world, it’s inexplicable but it works every time.

You run to the DJ booth where there are two large, heavy wooden boxes on the sides and you climb onto one of them to dance.

It's kind of like a disco cube, but you're on the beach and if you look ahead you see a stretch of sand and the sea. The dance floor during the day is a basketball court.

A friend of yours climbs up with you while the others watch you from below laughing and dancing.

You sing at the top of your lungs as you dance on the cube and smile at your friends. They are always there for you and they are the closest friends you have.

Your girls are great, the best you could ask for.

You turn to the DJ making a heart with your hands laughing when he does it back to you. You never get bored at these parties and it's certainly also thanks to him and his playlists.

You get off the cube at the end of the song and approach the bar with the girls again.

The last shot is rum and it burns even more than tequila. They serve it with a small glass of pear juice on the side.

You dance some more until you tell your friends you're going away for a smoke.

You stand on the side of the dance floor sitting on a wall, feeling really tipsy but not completely drunk.

You love this place, you always did. It’s like a comforting ritual, coming here every friday night, dancing with your friends, having some drinks, sometimes even hooking up.

You can dress like the hell you want, you can avoid painful heels and stuff, no one has a bad thing to say, you can go dance on the sand barefoot, you can leave your stuff behind the DJ booth without fear of someone stealing it.

You really like dancing, it’s liberating and it’s so much fun.

You throw your cigarette on the ground and put it out under your shoe, then throw the butt in the bin near the entrance.

You head towards the bathrooms, greeting a girl you know, and get in line.

A couple next to you is making out and you think you'd like to do the same with someone.

Damn alcohol, it makes you stupid and horny.

You go into the bathroom and pee, wash your hands, fix your hair and go out. You're trying to get back to your friends when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and see a guy who reminds you of someone but you're tipsy, your vision feels a little blurry, maybe you're wrong.

“Hey pretty, would you like a drink?”

You know this voice, you've talked to this dude before. And suddenly you recognize him.

Oh shit.

It’s Joel.

You haven't seen him in a year, he hasn't written to you since you rejected him. You had him relegated to the corner of your brain where you never look, the one where you put unpleasant things to move on.

He’s still gorgeous, with slightly longer hair. He looks at you with a puzzled face because you haven’t said a word yet, probably he doesn’t remember you.

“Are you okay?” he asks. And you answer “yes. yes I’m fine. It’s just… My hair was a different color last year but…don’t you recognize me?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down. “No…and honestly I feel like a real idiot right now, you’re gorgeous”

It's unbelievable. He didn’t recognize you but he just tried to hit up on you again.

You tell him your name and his eyes widen and his mouth agape: “oh fuck. Oh fuck, it’s you”

“Yeah, here we go again”

He scratches the beard on his jaw “oh well… you’re always stunning” he says, and shrugs his shoulders, raising his arms as if to say “it’s not my fault”.

You don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. After all, if he tried again even without knowing it was you, you must really be his type.

Or maybe it's just a coincidence, he wanted someone and you just happened to be in his sights at the right time.

“So? Do you still have a girlfriend?” You ask, crossing your arm on your chest.

“Not anymore” he smirk and and you look at him full of suspicion, furrowing your brows “Is it the truth?”

“Yes, it is.” You’re still in doubt, you take a deep breath while he add “I swear!”

You roll your eyes.

You shouldn’t believe him and you know it. But he’s incredibly handsome and he seems to still want you and last year he kissed you in a way…and then you’re half drunk and that doesn’t help.

“So, do you want something to drink?” And you should just say no, I don’t want anything, turn on your heels and go back to your friends. But unexpectedly your mouth decides otherwise. He smiles smugly and you feel your knees weak. His beautiful brown eyes, you don’t even know how to argue with them as you watch him showing off his puppy look.

Damn Joel, and his eyes.

He puts his arm around your waist and leads you to the bar. You feel like you’re floating in a bubble of horniness.

Pathetic.

It’s the second time and you just lose the ability to say no to him. The way his hand grip around your side, so big and warm, the way he smells clean and minty and slightly citrusy, his luscious hair in which you just want to bury your fingers intertwined with his curls, his lips so plumped and soft that make you hungry…he’s too much and you’re too tipsy.

He orders a shot for you and you drink it, you slide it down your throat like it was nothing.

Joel drags you to the dance floor taking you in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his hands on your back, your hips move in sync as if you both had a muscle memory that had been dormant for a whole year and was immediately reawakened as soon as your bodies met again.

“God, baby, I want you so bad” he whispers in your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth and nibbling at it.

You shiver at the sensation, feeling your head empty and you body overflowing with desire.

“Would you like to take a walk on the beach?” He teases and you nod.

You push your way to the crowd and it’s like a deja-vu that hits you and leaves you numb, he holds you close to him as you walk down the wooden plank path lined with umbrellas and sun loungers that leads to the seashore.

You get halfway down the path when he stops and looks you in the eye “I’ve missed this” If you were completely lucid you’d think that was a bit of a stretch considering you’ve only seen each other once but right now you’re blinded and needy and incredibly horny for him.

He kisses you, lacing his lips with yours, insinuating his tongue into your mouth, feverishly searching for yours. He’s ravenous, just like you remembered him.

You both gasp and when you pull away you laugh softly looking at each other. There is indeed an inexplicable chemistry between the two of you, there is no denying it.

“Shall we sit down?” he murmurs and leads you to one of the loungers.

You continue to kiss as if you were drinking from each other's mouths in a desperate attempt to quench your thirst.

His lips are gorgeous, soft as a feather pillow, fiery as hell, they taste deliciously of tequila and strawberry syrup like the shot you just had.

The music and the crowd are far away, everything around is isolated and silent except for the sound of waves in the distance. The sand has crept into your shoes but you don't care. The sea breeze makes you shiver pleasantly in his arms, it’s all so confusing but beautiful. Joel makes you lie down next to him on the lounger.

You feel so good in his arm, all wrapped around you as he explores every inch of your exposed skin, fingertips a little bit calloused, thick just like you remembered.

The sound and the vibration of his groans into your mouth are so addictive and make you wet instantly.

So wet it’s almost embarrassing.

“I want…” he mumbles and you purr “what?”

“I want to eat you out, babe” he says in a breath

“Here?” Your eyes widen and you feel immediately alarmed. “What if someone see us?!”

“There’s not a soul here, they’re all at the party, no one will see us” he reassures you “If you don’t want it though…”

“Oh no, i want it” you nod repeatedly “I want it so bad” you tug at his shirt looking at him in his damn puppy eyes .

“Okay…” you whisper, still unsure but eager at the same time.

The lounger is is reclined, so it allows you to lean up to your back on the backrest, he lies on his stomach at the bottom of it, with his legs dangling out on either side.

He lifts your skirt and stares at your wet panties. “Still soaking wet for me,” he grins.

You should be ashamed of yourself for indulging in with this guy again? Probably, but it’s not like you give a damn right now. You only want to feel his tongue on your cunt. Playing with your clit.

So you smile, you giggle and let yourself sink into this mess.

He lowers on you leaving a kiss on the wet spot on your underwear and suddenly stick out his tongue to lick it. Just a little flick that leaves you needy and hot.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You ask impatiently, your arousal deepening your voice.

He laugh and shake his head “Would you like that?” There’s something a little bit too bold about him, a cocky undertone that you’re not bothered to address right now, you’re still yourself though and you’re not one to do so many ceremonies when it comes to sex.

So you reply “Oh shut up, use this tongue of yours to make me scream already”

He smirks and punctuates “Bossy, huh? I love it” and then he lowers over your pussy and licks again at your panties, a long lap this time, grazing lightly at your clit with his teeth. His eyes are still fixed on yours as his tongue moves over his lower lips, savoring the taste of your cunt “so fucking sweet, babe.”

He slides his fingers into the sides of your panties and slowly pulls them down as you lift your hips to help him.

“Fuck, baby, it’s even better than I thought… I can’ stop looking at her”

His fingers run up your thighs, brushing your skin, they get closer to your center without stopping to stare at it “I was right to want to eat you out last time. God, look at her…” and he runs a finger over your folds “perfect..so perfect.”

You can read eagerness and desire in his eyes, and it makes you feel even less inclined to wait, it’s been a while since anyone's done this to you, your toy is very efficient but you reluctantly have to admit that it's not like feeling a man between your thighs.

He finally presses his lips to your clit and you moan, moan loudly and Joel laughs “You horny little thing”

His tongue runs the entire length of your pussy, from bottom to top and stops again on your clit, swirling above it.

“Yes, oh my god YES”

You should try to be quieter but you can't, not when Joel has decided to devour you, opening your folds with two fingers and dipping his tongue inside you, his nose bumping against your clit giving you shocks of pleasure that shake your whole body.

You squirm and you feel his big hand grabbing your hip, holding you in place “be a good girl, let me do my job” he pulls away from you for just a moment and you can barely see him down there but you can feel every single motion so intensely, his scruffy beard deliciously scratching on your skin so clearly, your senses other than sight so incredibly amplified that you almost begin to appreciate being eat out in the dark, you don’t even care about being busted.

You should really stop walking on this dangerous path but the contrast between the fresh air and Joel's warm mouth is driving you crazy, you feel a ringing in your ears, a tingling sensation that envelops you, you want more.

“Mmm baby, I want to drink you all. I want to dig so deep into you you would think that no one will ever make you feel this good again”

There is an underlaying claim in his voice, a need to be praised and recognized, a need to know for sure that he’s doing the best you can ask for so you heap praise on him, burying a hand in his curls, pushing him into your pussy, bucking your hips regardless his large hand digging in your skin, probably leaving bruised that would be your honor badge tomorrow.

“You’re so fucking great, Joel OH. FUCK. Please don’t stop don’t stop dontstop” and your words die a little in your throat as you try to not fall into his rabbit hole, but it’s too late.

You’re there when he makes his way into you with two of his thick fingers, curling them up, reaching for that inner spot that makes you see stars, knuckles deep into you pumping your pleasure up. His lips close on your clit sucking it into his mouth.

His mouth is soft, experienced, licks and sucks on your butterfly wings in purposeful movements, attentive but relentless as a man starved.

You can feel your juice flowing through your folds, dripping on your thighs and Joel’s tongue searching for every drop of it, digging into your hole, flicking on your bud, caressing your outer lip, you feel like he’s everywhere on you and you’re just seconds away from exploding.

“Yeah baby, give it to me, let me see how wild you can be, let me know how gushed you can get”

Your head spins at the sounds of his words and it gets even worse when his hand moves to your breasts over your top and bra searching for your nipple, his fingertips brushing it while he continues to hold his mouth laced with your pussy.

You whine and tug at his hair, calling his name repeatedly like a litany as he circles around your clit again in sync with his fingers filling your hole and you lay down your metaphorical weapons and indulge in a devastating orgasm.

It washes over you like waves of a stormy sea, making you drown completely into that deep part of you that just wants to feel that exquisite filthy hurricane run over you.

He keeps drinking at you until your body calms down and your moans fade away little by little, giving you back the ability to breathe normally.

“Fuck” you gasp “Holy fucking fuck”

Joel laughs “Something tells me you liked it, don’t you?”

He helps you fixing your panties and comes back up next to you and brings his fingers coated in your juice to your lips, smearing it over them “lick them clean, baby, taste how sweet you are”

You welcome his fingers up to the knuckles, wrapping them with your tongue, sucking greedily “such a good girl for me”

When he makes them pop out of your lips, you move closer to him and hide your face in the warmth of his chest while his hand caresses your back.

You're not thinking about anything, not about your friends who will be looking for you nor about how you should have said no to all of this, your head is only full of what he just made you feel.

And you feel the need to return the favor, the burning desire to taste him like you didn't last time.

You move to the bottom of the lounger, sitting on your heels and letting him lean his back against the backrest like you did before.

“Now it’s my turn.” You coo

“Are you sure?”

“I’m 100% sure” you can glimpse a sparkle in his eyes even if it’s dark as you put your hand over the bulge in his denim cargo shorts “someone is going to have a treat tonight, I’m fucking good at it” you murmur as you rub it over the fabric and he gasps at your touch then smirking and saying “yeah? you think you can handle this in your mouth?”

“You bet I can” you reply, your voice playfully offended.

“Then show me how good you are, baby” he order in a hushed tone.

Your fingers play with the button of his shorts, undoing it an instant later and unzipping, putting them down to his knees as he helps you moving his hips hastily.

Your hand is on his bulge again, massaging through the fabric and you see him swallowing and trying to take a long breath and you can see his pearly white teeth in the dark framed by a his mouth tug into a smile. You lower his underwear as well, just enough to pull his cock out, hard and throbbing already. It’s even bigger than you remembered, the most amazing thick, long, straight shaft you’ve ever seen.

His balls are big too, they hang heavy underneath.

It should belong in an erotic museum or something, someone should produce dildos inspired by Joel's cock.

The prominent veins along its length make you salivate and its big, red, swollen tip immediately compels you to lick it, a little kitty lick just to taste his precum that is already dripping from him.

It’s salty and musky as invades your mouth, it makes you even more needy.

He’s silent, just trying not to lose it already you suppose, the anticipation could be cut with a knife right now, it floats in the air like a thick fog between you.

You wrap your lips around his tip, swirling around it with your tongue, and then you go down on him, more and more, taking all you can in your mouth, it’s heavy and hot and intoxicating, you can deny that you’re imagining how good it would be if he also fills your pussy afterwards. Your cunt throb wildly between you legs as it reaches the back of your throat and your nose bumps into his curls.

You feel tears stinging your eyes and you blink them back along with your gag reflex, wrapping your hand at the base and starting working your mouth over his cock a moment after. Your head goes graciously up and down, licking and sucking, focusing on the redden mushroom.

It might be intimidating for someone but not for you, you’re thrilled by the challenge.

He grunts and whines bucking his hips into you hissing “fuck yeah, suck it baby, just like that… you’re doing so good” his voice sounds like it comes from a cave, deep and raspy.

You take it out of your mouth holding it with your hand and go down to lick one of his balls, it’s a little bit too hairy for your liking but you won’t whine about it. You swirl your tongue around it, take it between your lips and suck, feeling him move beneath you. Run your tongue up from the base to the tip, rubbing it with your hand, up and down on his silky skin coated in your saliva.

You pop it out again and you hold it with both of your hands because it’s this long and big and you can rub the entire length this way, he writhes uncontrollably under your touch and you bite your lower lip, you’re loving making him so desperate. You can even hear it in his labored breathing and you can’t resist going down on his tip again, so red and swollen you could swear he’s about to spurt in your face if you’re not fast enough to get out of the way.

His voice is now so broken and distraught that he can pull off only a sequence of “fuck" and “OH MY GOD” and you’re feeling pride rise in your chest. Still fucking good at it, like you said.

You put it in your mouth again, sucking on it like the most amazing lollipop you’ve ever had and little streaks of saliva slip down your chin, pooling at his base.

You’re probably under a spell because no cock has ever felt so tasty in your mouth, you just can’t stop. And you don’t, until you feel him squirting long strings of semen onto the roof of your mouth and down your throat.

His moans fill your ears as his spending is filling your mouth and your clit ache terribly.

You suck him clean and he relaxes between your lips.

“Fuck, you weren't lying.” he whispers and you proudly reply “I told you so”

“Come here, you little slut” and you laugh ‘cause even this slur feels good. Fuck this guy.

You move in his arms again. You hide your face in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent and he says “Just give me a minute, we’re not done yet.”

You look at him, raising an eyebrow “Oh yeah?”

“As long as you let me fuck you” he says simply “it’s your choice, baby” and those words are enough to make you gushing in your panties again.

“Good job, mister, you asked very nicely” you coo and he smiles taking your lips again in a sweet gentle kiss that feels like heaven.

He’s crumbling your beliefs to not have sex with strangers. Well, technically, he’s not a total stranger and you’re never been so horny before.

The two of you kiss for a while until he asks you to straddle him. You pull his shorts down to his ankles so they’re out of the way and you do. You take his cock in your hand and feel it hardening again, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile mischievously at him as you pull your panties aside and begin to move down on him, keeping one hand at the base of his cock.

You're soaked but you still have to proceed slowly, inch by inch his shaft makes his way inside you, he grunts as he feels your walls widen for him, stretching your core.

He's trying hard to let you do it and not move his hips but you can feel his cock throbbing, it burns a little at first but quickly the sensation turns into a pleasant warmth.

“You’re good?” He asks and you instantly reply “Yes, yes, I feel so full”

“Right, so full of me, baby” he says huskily.

You take a deep breath as you begin to move on top of him, your clit rubbing against his bush, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, his hand squeezes your hip over your dress, accompanying your thrusts “Yes, just like that, baby, keep going” He’s bucking his hips into you, sinking deeper and deeper into your pussy, you’re on the verge of losing your mind and you just lower your dress and bra and reveal your breasts, you grab his arm and put one of his hands on your breast “touch me” you beg him between moans “touch me, please”

“FUCK” he cuss as he grabs your tit and squeezes it, your nipples rubbing against his palm, you continue to ride him and feel your fluids slipping out of you, wetting your thighs and sliding over his skin.

You place your hand on him, moving it in circles with his, seeking more friction and he takes up the invitation, rubbing harder on your bud.

“You feel so good, so fucking good baby” he groans “go ahead, choke my cock”

You whimper, placing your hands on the lounger and leaning your back backwards while you fasten your pace.

He pushes into you relentlessly, you keep moving swinging your hips, you feel him slamming against your cervix just right in this position, again and again in lewd squelching sounds.

“I'm coming, I'm coming Joel,” you stammer.

“I feel it, I feel it baby, come for me, come all over my cock”

Your cunt clench around him, you feel delirious, totally cock drunk, and yet you can't help but place a hand on your clit, jerking it furiously “Oh my God yes- Fuck - yesyesyes” you’re a babbling mess and Joel too, neither of you are thinking anymore about the fact that you are out in the open and someone might see you, you’re loud and frantic and a moment later you’re gushing over his cock, your orgasm dripping all over him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks in a broken voice

“Inside”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes - FUCK - I'm on the pill” It's true, you started this year due to some period problems you had “Fill me up - just - fuck - fill me up, please” you mutter.

A couple more thrusts and he explodes inside you, painting your walls, squeezing your hips tightly, his fingers buried in your flesh.

He keeps thrusting into you until he’s calm and then slips out and takes you in him arm. You abandon your head against his chest, feeling his seed slowly trickling down and it’s a sensation you never experienced before, you’re not used to make guys come inside but Joel it just felt right. You don’t even feel drunk anymore, you’re drunk on him.

“God darling, that was so amazing,” he whispers as he kisses your hair and holds you tight.

And you smile. You smile like an idiot, a totally well pleased idiot though.

And just when you're thinking that nothing could ruin this moment you hear voices approaching from the seashore, you look at Joel with wide eyes and you dress faster than the light and run across the sand to return to the party. Was it someone returning from a night walk? The police? You'll never know. You stop as soon as you reach the end of the walkway, you look at each other and laugh out loud while you feel your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“Fuck” you hiss under your breath “I hope they didn't see us!”

“Maybe they enjoyed the show” Joel says mischievously.

You are officially sober after the scare, you slap Joel's arm laughing and rolling your eyes "come on, mister exhibitionist, help me find my friends" You take his hand and you make your way towards the DJ console, where luckily you find the girls again. They all open their eyes wide when they see you come back with him but your smile this time tells them a different story.

They don't even ask you where you were and you rush to apologize for leaving without warning.

They look at each other, still suspicious and you can understand why, they love you and don't trust Joel. Joel for his part smiles at everyone and introduces himself, casual and self-confident as if they didn't know what happened last year.

You talk to them for a bit and you think he really knows his stuff because your friends seem a lot less nervous than before, in the meantime you see a boy with dark hair approaching, he has a mustache and a bit of a beard and features that resemble Joel's.

He taps Joel on the arm and exclaims "Hey! Where the fuck were you?"

Joel immediately turns to him and it's clear that he knows him "Hey Tommy! Um... actually, I was with her"

Tommy shifts his gaze to you and his big dark eyes scrutinize you carefully as he shakes your hand "Nice to meet you, Tommy, this idiot's brother"

Oh.

You didn't know he had a brother, he never told you about him. In your new state of sobriety you realize that you haven't talked about a damn thing.

You were so euphoric that you didn't think about it until now.

Tommy is slightly shorter but just as attractive, you smile warmly at him and he smiles back but then turns back to Joel “me and the others are going home, are you coming?”.

Joel sadly replies “yeah, sure, just give me a minute”.

He takes your hand and you move away from them a little, you look into his eyes and think that maybe you could think of getting lost in that look, despite your lack of faith in relationships and especially in men.

“I have to go” he says squeezing both your hands in his “do you think I can use your number this time?” He has such a sweet look that you can only say “yes, sure” and you kiss him again, feeling like you’re in one of those stupid romantic comedies.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Joel whispers when you break the kiss.

He smiles with his whole face, eyes crinkled at the edges and lips curved into a smirk. He’s so damn beautiful.

You walk back to Tommy and your friends and Joel says “we can go” turning back to you and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. You feel your knees buckle and a tiny twinge in the corner of your heart at the thought that he lives 3 hours away and you don’t know when you’ll see him again. It doesn’t matter, you think, it’s worth it.

You and your friends grab your stuff behind the DJ booth, say goodbye, and head out to the parking lot. You know they're all waiting until you get to the car to pepper you with questions and giggles.

You feel like you're walking on a cloud.

The parking lot is pretty big and dark at this hour, you hear voices coming from some cars to the left and at first you don’t pay attention, then you clearly hear “Holy shit Joel!” and you stop.

It’s Tommy’s voice and from his tone he doesn’t seem happy.

You stay still without making any noise, hoping that the darkness will come to your aid.

“What do you plan on telling Tess when that girl calls you? Are you going to keep this a secret from her? Are you going to leave her?”

Your heart freezes.

No, not again.

“She’s been your girlfriend for three years, for Christ’s sake.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response, just Tommy screaming.

And you don’t care, he still has a girlfriend. Joel still has a girlfriend, even though he swore he’d dumped her.

You don't need to know anything else. You take your phone out of your bag, scroll through your contacts and block his number.

Your unaware friends have already reached the car and are putting their bags in the back seat. You reach them before they can call you out loud and slide into the back seat next to the bags, while they argue about who should sit in front you close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.

You don't have the strength to admit that you were wrong, you don't have the strength to see them sad for you.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we want it to, you'll swallow this morsel too in the end. It's just more bitter than you expected.

You're not shaking, it's just a little bit of you that's gone.

[anyamaris]

My Unlikely Hero

Word Count-3027

Summary-An unplanned trip to the store has you seeing your shy roommate in a new light.

Pairing-Jeongin x f!reader

Trope-Roommates to lovers AU

Warnings- Vulgarity, sexual language, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), mentions of blood and minor injuries, mild harassment to reader, implied physical fight, MINORS DNI 18+

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @babesindestroyland @lemonhongjoong @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @flowerboykun @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @kthpurplesyou @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @ssaboala @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren

As always, thank you to @cafekitsune for use of banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- This is for an ask for @labyrinthonmymind I got a bit ago, sorry it took so long for me to get to it! I'm new to writing SKZ so I hope I did your ask and him justice. This was on my mind so I hope you like the idea I got from your ask!

You’d been hesitant at first to accept a male roommate when Jeongin showed up to look at the room.  The friend you’d originally moved in with had moved out of town and you needed to rent out the room.  When you’d put out the ad, you hadn’t thought to ask for only females, and only after receiving the call from him had it occurred to you.  

Regardless, you’d had him come to look at it, trying to figure out how to turn him down if he made you uncomfortable.  Despite your reservations at first, the man who had shown up was adorable, and his bright smile had you immediately letting down your guard.  His almost shy demeanor was actually what drew you in, and he was very respectful the entire visit.  

So when no one else had inquired about the room after a few more days, you’d called him to let him know it was his to move into at his convenience.  His delight was conveyed through his voice and you couldn’t help but smile at the infectious cheeriness of his personality.  

Within two days he had moved in, and he’d been exactly what you needed, financially, and as an ideal roommate.  He was clean, respectful and quiet.  Sometimes almost too quiet, you think, watching him shut his door to head out to wherever it was that he was going for the day.  

It had been three months since he’d moved in and you’d gotten a little closer to him.  He was sweet, caring, and very upbeat when you’d gotten him to actually talk with you about anything, but the majority of the time you attempted, he would just blush and clam up.  

When he was with his friends the rare times he’d had anyone over, he was loud, laughing and smiling, teasing them when they played games.  You’d even caught a little bit of his savage sense of humor, smiling to yourself as you happened to catch him prodding at one of the guys.  

Worried that you probably just made him uncomfortable, you pulled back a bit on being too pushy.  If he wanted to open up to you, he could.  You just couldn’t help wanting to know him better, possibly even become good friends.  So as he makes his way to the door to put on his shoes, you can’t help but go to say goodbye to him.  

“Jeongin…I’m um…making cookies today!  Do you have a cookie you like best?” you ask him, smiling at him.  His eyes get large as he looks up at you, darting back and forth as he seems to think about your question.   “Um..anything you make will be good.” he shrugs, a cute little smile on his face as he stands up, unable to meet your eyes.  

“Oh..uh okay.  Well…if you come back later I’ll have them on the counter!” you say, and he nods, turning to go out the door.  “Bye!” you wave at the closing door, then deflate a bit, wondering if you’d once again been too pushy.  Sighing, you just go back inside, turning up the music to dance along to now that you were all alone.

A bit later, after getting side tracked from your baking by some phone calls and random chores, you finally make your way to finish your cookie preparation.  You frown as you realize you don’t have enough eggs and you sigh, looking at the clock.  It was after 9pm so you’d have to just run to the corner store to grab them.  Shrugging at your bad planning skills, you slip on some shoes and hope it’ll be a nice quick trip, and that not many people will be out.  You just had on some sweat shorts and a tee, hair a bit of a mess, but it’s not like you were trying to impress anyone.  

Opening the door, the bell chimes and you notice there aren’t many people, and a wave of relief washes over you.  You notice the bored cashier reading some kind of book and make your way to the cooler to see what they have.  Grabbing a few snacks, along with your eggs, you make your way to the register when a group of young men enter the store.  

You just keep your head down and thank the uninterested cashier as you make your purchase, then turn to head out the door.  “Hey there cutie…” you hear but ignore the voice, pushing open the door.  “Awww, where you goin?” you gasp as your arm is suddenly grabbed and you’re yanked inside.  Scared, your eyes dart to the cashier who is turning away and you curse your bad luck.  “Uhh, please let go.” you manage, looking at the three guys.  

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” another asks and you yank your arm away, clutching your bag to your chest as you eye them.  “None of your business, excuse me..” you say and push open the door to leave.  You almost let out a sigh of relief but then you hear the chime of the door as it opens again, and the laughter of the men.  

Starting to walk fast, you glance behind but then your foot catches on the curb and you land on your knees, scraping them.  “Shit…” you mumble, checking your bag to see if you broke anything.  “Aww honey, did you hurt yourself? Let me make it all better..” “Please leave me alone..” you tell them, looking up at the men hovering over you now.  “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Come on, I’ll kiss it better for you-” one says, grabbing for you, but then you hear shouting.  

“YAH! HEY!  Get away from her!” you hear a male voice from behind you, then a bag is flying over your head, hitting one of the guys in the face.  Then a figure is launching himself at the men, a bunch of shouting and commotion causing you to just stare in confusion.  Startled, you jerk away as a hand settles on your shoulder.  “Are you alright?” a voice asks and you look up into a familiar face.  “Hyunjin?” you whisper, remembering one of Jeongin’s friends.  

“Yeah, are you hurt?” he asks, then frowns as he looks over at the men fighting, another having joined the figure you’d seen flash by.  Before you know it, it quiets down and all you can hear is the heavy breathing of the two men who had chased away your harassers.  “Idiot, what are you trying to do?” you hear one berating the other before a figure runs over to you, kneeling in front of you.  

“Oh my god, what did they do to you? Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”  it takes you a moment to recognize Jeongin, his normally cheerful smile replaced with anger and concern.  Realizing that they’d come at just the right time, you sniffle a little, trying to hold back a sob. “Thank you, I … they were kinda scary…” you manage. Jeongin is frowning at your scraped knees, his hands shaking as he seems to want to help but doesn’t want to touch you.  

“Thank this moron, flying over people and screaming.  Holy hell, I’ve never seen him run so fast.”  You look over and notice Changbin standing to the side, glancing down at Jeongin as he worries over you.  “Hyunjin, let’s go make sure those dicks aren’t coming back.  Can you get her home ok?” he nudges Jeongin with his toe and he just nods, waving them away as he never takes his eyes off of you.  

“I’m ok, really.” you tell him, but when his eyes meet yours, you don’t push it.  They soften as he watches you wince a bit at his glare, holding his hand out as he stands up.  “Come on, let’s go home.” He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you up.  “My eggs!” you say, then check them.  Luckily they weren’t broken and you breathe a sigh of relief.  “Here, let me…” he says, taking the bag.  “I’ll protect your eggs with my life, promise.” he says, giving you a reassuring smile.  

He holds his hand out to you and you blush shyly as you take it tentatively.  “Just to make sure you don’t trip, if it makes you uncomfort-” “No! I…thank you….I’m ok with it…” you manage and he nods, turning to watch the other two walk away.  You both start towards the apartment, the silence between you almost comfortable as he holds onto your hand, checking to make sure you’re walking alright every so often.  

“I’m sorry that those men were bothering you.” he says, and you glance up at him, the concern back in his dark eyes.  “I’m so grateful that you came along, really.  They were just being annoying, but it was a little scary.” The long pretty eyes that you loved to watch squint into a smile were now filled with anger, his mouth twisted into a grimace.  “I wish I’d hit them a few more times…” he growls out and you gasp, the realization that he’d been in a fight finally hitting you.  Your brain is a little slow, but now you look down at the hand holding yours and feel your heart hurt over his bloodied knuckles.

“Jeongin! Oh no!” you cry, stopping to look closer, pulling his other hand up.  “It’s fine, really I-” “It’s not fine! You were hurt because of me!” you exclaim, feeling your eyes fill with tears.  “Really…” “Inside, now!” you drag him along, despite his protests behind you.  Once inside, you frown at him, pointing to the couch as you set the bag down in the kitchen.  “Sit.  No! Don’t argue-just go sit. That’s an order!” you tell him, running off to get your first aid kit.  

“Wow…ok ok..” he mumbles, and you hear him going into the living room.  He’s perched on the couch, a little lopsided smile on his face as you sit beside him.  “Really, I’m alright.” he tells you as you pull out antiseptic spray and bandaids.  “Jeongin…” you sigh at him, putting on some ointment after you clean the injured knuckles on both of his hands.  “Why did you throw yourself at them like that? You could have been hurt even worse…” you swallow hard, thinking what might have happened if they had fought back or …

“It doesn’t matter, they were bothering you.” he simply states and you glance up at him as you put the bandaids on.  His eyes were soft and caring, causing your breath to stop.  The elongated silence as you watch him has your cheeks heating up, and you see the telltale sign of pink on his as well.  “You…you saved me….” you blink at him, realizing at that moment that you just might have it bad for this man.  

Before you can stop yourself, you cup his face in both hands and place a light kiss on his lips.  He stiffens, then a small whimper escapes him as you draw back, hand over your mouth.  “Oh..oh…Jeongin..I’m so sorry.  That was horribly rude of -” You’re abruptly cut off as he dips his head to recapture your lips, but this time it's less soft, more eager as he tilts his head to lean into you.  

Shocked but excited, you throw your arms around his neck and part your lips for him.  Gasping, his tongue tentatively searches for yours, deepening the kiss as they meet.  He slows, then pulls back for a moment, tipping his forehead against yours.  You search his eyes as he watches you, his gaze almost questioning.  “You’re hurt too..let me…” he says, but you shake your head, watching his lips, going to lean in again. 

As your lips press to his, he smiles and laughs a little, then pulls you back again.  “Hey..you yelled at me…let me at least clean your wounds before…” he blushes again, biting his lip and looking at your scraped knees.  “Before?” you ask breathily and he groans, immediately reaching for the antiseptic spray with shaking hands.  

“Jeongin…” you murmur as you watch him clean your wounds hurriedly.  “Mmm?” he continues to apply ointment and bandaids much like you did for him.  “I..I like you.” you finally get out, your cheeks burning even though moments ago he was kissing you back.  You still feel nervous, worried he might be just reacting to the adrenaline of the fight.  

At your words, he fumbles the box of bandaids and they fall, then he’s picking them up, not even looking at you.  “I just…sorry…that was probably-” “I like you too.” he says, finally turning to you as he places the box on the coffee table.  “I really like you…I just didn’t know if it was appropriate…” he manages, glancing around the apartment.  

“Because roommates?” you ask him and he nods at you as he takes a seat next to you once more.  You reach out and take his hand, feeling even more bashful.  “I..yeah it’s a little…well…” you stammer, but as you look back up at him, his eyes are filled with want as he watches you and you can’t stop yourself as you grab his shirt to pull him in for another kiss.  

He hums as your lips meet, his hand finding its way onto the nape of your neck, caressing the bare skin there.  A shiver runs through you as you melt into him, your arms around him, fingers delving into his silky hair.  Suddenly he’s lifting you into his lap and you press yourself against him, feeling bold as your hand slips down to unbutton his shirt.  

A small whine escapes him as your hand skims the bare skin of his chest where the shirt is parted, and you feel the telltale sign of his arousal growing where you’re seated on him.  “We-I-oh god-” he gasps as you rub a thumb over his nipple, turning to adjust on him, straddling his hips as you push him back on the couch.  “Too fast?” you ask him, but he’s shaking his head as he lifts your shirt over your head, his arms wrapping around you.  “Whatever you want…I only want what you want…” he professes as he looks up at you as you cup his face in your palms.  “I want you.” is all you say and he groans, then he’s lifting you, carrying you to his room as you wrap your legs around him.  You let out a little giggle as he makes cute noises trying to maneuver around things, finally falling with you onto the bed.  He props himself above you, taking in your bra clad torso.  

You bite your lip as you slip your hand behind your back and unhook it, drawing it off to throw to the side.  His eyes glaze over at the sight of your naked breasts, then he’s shedding his unbuttoned shirt as well.  “Jeongin-” “Oh…are you alright-?” “Pants, take them off…” you whisper and he stops in shock for a moment, then he’s stripping everything off as you giggle at his expression.  

Your laugh is cut off as he grabs your shorts and yanks them off along with your underwear, then he’s between your legs.  “I’ll stop anytime it’s too-” “Don’t you dare stop.” you demand, fingers back in his hair and leaning up to reclaim his mouth eagerly.  “Want to feel you-” you mumble against his lips, drawing out a long moan from him as your hips lift against him.  

You can feel the underside of his rigid length slide along your slickness as he rubs against you, the pressure against your clit has you already gasping in pleasure.  “Jeongin, please…I want you so much…” you whine, and he slips his hand between you to grip himself, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.  “Please!” you cry as he hesitates once more, then he’s stretching you, hips thrusting forward to bury himself deep within you.  

The collective moans you both let out are the only sounds as he just pauses as you pulse around him, then he’s pulling back, thrusting back into you with a wet slap.  “Oh god, yes!” you cry out, your hands on his shoulders.  He lifts your leg a bit and slips a hand under your ass to tilt you up, letting him go a bit deeper.  His face is contorted in bliss, watching you as he slowly builds up the power behind his thrusts, speeding up gradually.  

“You feel amazing, oh-god-” he groans out, lowering himself a bit to kiss you, his hand gripping the sheets as he sets a steady pace, drawing out cries from you that mix with his own.  The sounds of your bodies coming together, and the soft cries and moans from him has your womb throbbing, tightness building inside of your abdomen and your body starts to shake as you realize you’re close.  “Jeongin…JEONGIN- I-”  His hips stutter as your walls clench around him and his breath hitches.  “Oh GOD-I CAN’T …FUCK- “ he groans, but you lift your hips, urging him on.  

“Cum, Jeongin, cum with me…please….” you cry, your orgasm finally stealing your breath as you scream, then his cries are blending with yours as he thrusts once more inside of you, emptying himself in a flood within you.  “Oh-GOD–GOD YES-” he chokes out, your legs around his waist as you hold him against you.  He shudders on top of you, gasping as he finally gets his breath back, and goes limp on you.  

Swallowing and catching your own breath, you just run your fingers through his hair and smile as you kiss his forehead.  “Mmmm” is all you manage and he echoes the noise back at you, then you’re both giggling.  He rolls you both to the side, pushing your hair back, both of you damp with sweat.  “I really like you.” you whisper and he smiles, his grin a little cheeky.  “I sure hope so…after that…”   You giggle as you slap him playfully, then his mouth is pressed against yours again.  “So, I’m your boyfriend AND roommate now?”  he asks, an eyebrow raised. “My roommate, my boyfriend.  My hero.”

[queencoldart]

A Dog's Mother is officially canceled

Maybe you saw this coming, or maybe this comes as a surprise. I feel terrible because I repeatedly promised to continue updating this story. Now that I have a full time job, I realize I bit off so much more than I could chew.

I initially took a break from updating the story because I was basically pouring all of my free time into it. Every new upload consisted of many different drawings, not including the editing. I was fatigued.

Then I lost the entire script and was never able to recreate it to my liking. After that I began to rewrite parts that weren't great to begin with. This is when I realized that the way I've set the story up in previous uploads, I created some problems down the line. I tried to painstakingly fix them before continuing to upload. Twice after I attempted to continue drawing, I lost a whole bunch of my progress due to files getting corrupted. Then I lost access to the medication that helps me focus, which I still haven't regained. The more I tried to return to the drawing board, the more I couldn't force myself to do it, especially when I became incredibly busy with school and finally work.

It's been so many years now and I sense that people have had their fill of generational trauma stories. I like to keep my promises, so this hurts to do and I am sorry to all of those who have been anticipating the rest, but I think it's time for me to retire the project and move on instead of worrying about releasing it and feeling guilty any time I draw anything else.

Since I am not finishing this project, what I'm about to say isn't going to spoil anything.

Garble softens his approach to Cinder after being confronted by Smolder and seeing the final confrontation between Torch and Sconce. He was never fully convinced that he was doing right by Cinder by being extra hard on her. We learn that Garble is actually very worried about his sisters, because the world they live in is changing so quickly and the only reliable way he knows how to protect anything is by being tough.

The earthquakes, as shown and alluded to in part 2, were precursors to a massive volcanic eruption that creates very hazardous conditions for Ember, and for Torch when he saves her. Sconce returns and prevents Torch from being injured during his rescue mission. By doing this, Sconce demonstrates enough love for her son that Ember wants to give her a chance. It makes no difference to Torch, however. He doesn't believe in rewarding his mother with a rekindled mother-son relationship for doing something right. This insults Sconce and both she and Torch double down instead of making up, subverting the (Millennial) Parental Apology Fantasy trope.

Sconce's double standards prevent her from validating anything her son tells her and Torch insists his mother stays far away from him. Ember gets in between them again but this time she acknowledges her father's feelings and takes responsibility for ignoring his boundaries. She thanks Sconce for saving her father and promises to stay in touch, but implores her to leave. Sconce's emotions have exhausted her so much she has no fight left in her and she goes home.

In the epilogue, a very conflicted Sconce shows clear signs of cognitive dissonance. Her husband's snide remarks about their son make her uncharacteristically upset. While she doesn't have a change of heart immediately, it is implied she may have one later.

Several things happen after the epilogue. This isn't a part of the story, but I may draw related pieces at some point.

Ember stays in contact with Sconce, as she promised. Sconce is fond of her granddaughter and tries to ask about Torch, but never gets any details besides that he's "doing fine". Sconce writes to Ember that Torch accuses her of wrongdoing, yet never told her exactly what she did wrong. Torch is incredibly dismayed when Ember tells him this and says he isn't interested in hearing what she and Sconce have to say to each other, although it is abundantly clear he wants to know whether or not his mother is badmouthing him.

Basalt passes away. Torch has no reaction to this news, which upsets Sconce when she hears it. At the same time, she feels like she should be more saddened herself. Sconce doesn't feel like she can stay in the south anymore and begins wandering. She meets different dragons along the way, who teach her how her son's leadership affected dragons. She becomes gradually more pleasant, in no small part due to a lack of Basalt's influence, and even begins to learn bits and pieces of the truth about her late husband — information she is initially very resistant to. She encounters Torch by coincidence. This time she doesn't confront him and leaves immediately. This surprises her son, but he doesn't pursue her. He asks Ember how his mother is some time later. This piques Ember's curiosity, to which Torch simply states that he wants his mother to be well, nothing more.

The process of Sconce's reformation and eventual redemption is a long one. She and Torch eventually mend their relationship to the point they are friendly with each other, but Torch never forgives her, not even after she's willing to make amends and accepts she isn't owed forgiveness. She watches Grandma Griddle enjoy the joys of motherhood that could have been her own if she hadn't been so stubborn and counts her blessings.

I didn't intend for there to be a moral of the story, but if there is one, the main takeaway shouldn't be that those who redeem themselves will eventually get rewarded for it. It should be that it took Sconce more than two thousand years to repair her relationship with her son. Most people don't have that long, so... don't be awful to your kids, I suppose!

[lephamquynhnhu]

Millennial Aegis

Chapter 6 (End)

Jing Yuan x Fem! reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Arranged marriage, the reader has a default name, OOC, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~3000

Summary: He is so stubborn to give up on you, and you are too hard-headed to reciprocate his affection. When do you both stop torturing each other?

Note: The first line I wish to express my sincere appreciation to Tanpostblog, crazy-ghostwriter, babymarshall, lady-cryptstone, mikakosama, thatanonymouschocolate, xdrin, Jingyuanbeloved, and briacee for your constant support on this series. I planned on finishing it in five chapters, but it was longer than expected.

You were falling into an unlimited spiral abyss and witnessing how the flame phoenix was born. Suddenly, a horrendous scene unfolds in front of your eyes while running restlessly. The desolate landscape with appalling carnage full of heads, limbs, and gnawing bodies sprawling on the ground burdened on a red spider lilies field. You could practically hear their spirits accuse and curse your name for not saving them when the wind carrying a foul smell breezed. Everything was dyed in a dead vermillion hue as the bloodred moon glared upon soil permeated with millions of innocent lives. 

You agonized over long and hard what to do, just fleeting from the dying world. You kept running until you saw the familiar shape on the apex of a hill built by multiple deceased bodies. Your eyes widen when you recognize Jing Yuan hanging on the wooden cross with a tored throat, limbs dissipated, and crows hovering above. Before you could scream out of horrifying, rotten hands rising from the surface grabbed your legs to sink you to hell. The last thing that remained was the cursed moon bleeding its black mud down. 

The dreadful sight dispels as you jolt awake with cold sweat beads on your brows and forget everything about the nightmare as the utmost sore strikethrough your body. Only a little stir is enough to accumulate the aching. However, the coziness of Jing Yuan's embrace soothes your pain, which must be solace for his roughness last night. The sound of you waking up makes him smile slightly as he feels you cuddle against him. His hand reaches over to stroke your hair gently, causing a sense of warmth and comfort. 

"Jing Yuan! What were you last night? A wild beast devoured his spouse alive?" You point your index finger at his nose, scolding him. The amber eyes waver, then alight with mischief when he looks back at you, trying not to laugh and shaking his head. He is unascertained if he wants to answer that question.

"Don't you dare to laugh! Do you have any idea how much it hurts right now?" You intend a feathery tap at his face, but the general quickly stops your wrist before it lands its target. His eyes narrow as he stares down at you, still holding your arm in place as he speaks calmly. 

"I am truly sorry. I went overboard last night, so I beg your pardon, my lady."

He seems apologetic and genuine about what happened last night when Jing Yuan leads your hand to cup his cheek and kisses your palm. The free hand runs over your bruising chest with his hickeys when you caress his cheekbone affectionately and grant him amnesty. Then he leans forward to kiss you, slipping his tongue out and meeting yours whilst fingers lightly running along your neck. As he pulls away, Jing Yuan winks at you slyly.

You both were supposed to have a blissful marriage if the Stellaron Disaster was not downcast. 

Your heart ached when the general returned from battle in an unconscious state again, and you began thinking of his laden responsibility. Being protected and protecting are two separate things asunder. What did it feel like to present as Luofu's General for millennia? Has he ever been tired of being bestowed with unparalleled intellect and peerless swordsmanship? Maybe you have hidden behind his wings and rested for too long. Hence, it was time for your turn to be his guardian, to fulfill your wish under that silver moon.

However, the mission got more challenging since Jing Yuan forbade and blocked your exploiting investigation of the case. A red denial ablaze brightly on the monitor whenever you try to access the information, and even agents of the Cabinet who were well-informed about the Stellaron refused to answer its topic. To obtain sufficient data for analysis, the intel of battling with Lord Phantylia is an invaluable fragment. As a result, the sole method is infiltrating his archive room to duplicate the data. 

Your palms sweated, and Adrenaline coursed through your bloodline rapidly as you heard footsteps resonating closer to the archive's vicinity. Luckily, the replicating progress indicates successful copying before the general entry. Your heart beat loudly at the eardrum when concealing under the trapdoor and overhearing their off-topic chit-chat. A bizarre feeling settled in your ribcage as soon as Lieutenant Yanqing shifted the conservation into Lady Tingyun's affair; Lord Jing Yuan cleverly avoided discussing it and walked out once he found the needed document. 

Your suspicion was soon confirmed at night when he asked you to bring his demanded file from the study room. This Arbitrary-General only needs an excuse to pull you into his lap with arms secured around your waist, preventing you from running off. The papers fall messily on the cold tile floor for all he cares while Jing Yuan settles you steadily on his thigh.

"You sneaked into my archive room today, didn't you?" 

Your blood froze on the spot when hearing the sternness laces in his voice, and you could tell he was mad by the intense stare in those narrowed eyes. You were sure to successfully hack and insert illusion into all the surveillance cameras without leaving a doubtful trace. Nevertheless, the moment you prefer to object, your husband points out the undeniable evidence that keeps your mouth shut because you would never expect every existence in the archive to live for a purpose. His brush pen laid oblique compared to the original place indicated in your presence since only you two shared the accessed authority. Therefore, Jing Yuan takes your silence as an implied answer. 

"A Zhi, please do me a favor just for this time." - He dives head into your sternum, exhaling his favorite scent. - "Whether it is a felony or misdemeanor in Luofu, I will assign it to you as you wish in exchange for retreating from this Stellaron's study." 

The nuance in his beseech expresses its critical level, so your reason to follow the case magnifies significantly. Being consorts for centuries, the general can sense your definitive response before you materialize it vocally. 

"Don't force me to impose on you more restrictions." - His voice mutates as strictly as iron, and the mild amber orbs morph into icebergs. Jing Yuan interprets your stubbornness, so he must not falter because he swore an oath to his name, even your father, to keep you from harm at all cost. Thus, this is not a rash threat. 

After sharing a long stare competition, you attempt to push your luck by tracing fingertips along his hem's collar and start negotiating. Nevertheless, he does not back off, remaining immovable as a stone figure. 

"I had better understand that 'The same trick won't do twice.' more than anyone else as a Strategic advisor." - You chide yourself while pushing your hands up in a surrendering manner and claiming your withdrawal. The general knows it is a lie, yet he wants to believe in your lie. 

However, the cost of defying reduces your chance to zero. You never think he could be this ruthless when it comes to warfare. The first dispute you two have encountered leads to the bitter end when he constrains you as a punishment. Not only do you hand the USB over to him, but Jing Yuan also forfeits your accessed authority to his archive and temporarily discharges your position in the Internal Affairs Bureau. Although the man chooses to put faith in your dishonesty, that does not mean he sits duck and forecasts the second rebellion. 

"The guest room might serve your service." - You press cold lips against his earlobe to fake a kiss, breathe in slowly to suppress the fury that awaits to explode. - "Begone, out of my sight." 

Both of you know that he does not even mind sleeping in the corridor in the condition to get you off Stellaron's case. To you, this argument and those limitations are nothing more than gravel scattering in your path. Conversely, they may be a potential opportunity to exploit. From now onward, it is an underground battle of wits between the Luofu's general and his strategist. Whoever gets the fastest information will win. 

With your interim situation, continuing to collect and analyze the data in the Cabinet is no longer a feasible option. Hence, the Astral crew will be one of your allies now, but you cannot let your guard down to directly connect to them. Every step and each alternative you take will stake your liability if Jing Yuan recognizes the intrigue. Employing spies to mine their information is a sensible way to conceal your hands, and thanks to the brief time interacting with them, you can depict their personalities. March 7th and the Trailblazer are amiable friends who are inclined to share the intel. As for Mister Yang, you should be wary of this man when assigning your subordinates around him. 

In addition to your partners, Blade and Kafka might not escape Luofu yet because their wanted posters cover every alley. And a competitive merchant could acquire benefits if taking advantage of quid pro quo. You deem the Arbitrary General was too tolerant to restrain someone. If he were cruel enough to shut you in a cell, you would not contract with Silver Wolf. With this genius hacker, you can unauthorized access the network of Internal Affairs freely to obtain top-secret information. 

"You will become a political criminal and be accused of national betrayal, Lady Jin." - The angelic voice of the purple-haired woman singsong at your side while making a deal. Her saccharine smile dripping with nullifying nerve poison did not cast a jinx on you. As long as you are eligible to rescue Xianzhou, you do not mind hand-tarnishing and playing the villain's role. 

Furthermore, to prevent your information blockchain from leaking or any accidents, you divide the source into two segments: electronic data and physical version. As for the software, you are confident about Silver Wolf's system, and the spy team will develop a coding system that only you can decipher those materialized documents. 

You are now very close to the truth of Stellaron and the purpose of Tingyun's missing. This battle is not just about wits, but also about psychology because your mentality will break at any time when working under intense pressure, and you are positive that Jing Yuan still keeps a tab on your actions. It seems like walking onto a rope since any stripped steps will lead you to fall into an abyss. You have already gambled everything into this Stellaron case, so trivial mistakes are unacceptable. 

"Xianzhou is in its dead end, huh?" - A hopeless sigh leaves your lips as you drum the Ambrosial Abor's bark on the table. It was once a remnant of Phantylia's physical body and still lingering her power. You ordered a reconnaissance mission for Yu Ye - one of your spies, to scout Scalegorge Waterscape and collect some observations. According to the final analysis, it turns out like you used to suspect. Disciples of the Sanctus Medicus organization have an inextricable link to the path of Destruction, and Danshu is their leader. The bags under your eyes connote white nights of restlessly investigating the case and strategizing an offensive plan. However, the more you try, the more desperate you get because the end of Xianzhou is nigh. 

"General will rampage..." - You pungently laugh while considering the ace to rescue the ship from its wreckage. 

Three days after your finding, Lord Phantylia ambushes with another appearance and boundless potency. She synthesizes with the Ambrosial Abor and devastates all axis avenues to isolate the Divination Commission. The bell of an urgent evacuation was announced deafeningly as the defensive force assembled under the general's order. The Internal Affairs determines this turmoil with the highest rank: The Grand Calamity. Jing Yuan and the Astral Express, including the support of Imbibitor Lunae's incarnation, combat valiantly to repel her attacks, even rip off her earthly body again. But alas, the assault was no more than bait to whittle their stamina. 

The vassals of Destruction are truly twisted creatures because Phantylia used Tingyun as her backup vessel to manifest as a pseudo-embodiment. The circumstance gets dire when Jing Yuan eradicates her presentation. Phantylia's insane laugh echoes across the frontline when she obtains her end, revealing that Stellaron's core gained its humanoid attribute inlaid into the tree, which has grown maturity and is about to blow away Luofu. Everyone roots their feet on the ground, trucking with astonishment when they realize it took Tingyun's features for preference. In the meantime, you have fully prepared and hurriedly advanced to the battlefield. 

"You will die." - said Fu Xuan, who abruptly hinders your way with two Cloud Knight soldiers standing behind. You silently commend her clairvoyance as clutching on the long sleeve. General's order or not, you will not be backward this time and instinctively initiate the combat stance without saying. However, to your surprise, Fu Xuan raises her hand to display a military-style greeting. 

"Farewell, Tactician. We will always remember you." 

The usual stoic face transfers into solemnness, and a faint smile decorates her complexion when you reciprocate her respects. The Apocalypse has befallen Luofu, so either going to the gallows today or tomorrow, your destiny is inevitable. Reversely, Xianzhou will be safe if she lets you go.

"Then, I go first. Goodbye, Master Diviner." 

Little do you know, as soon as your turning heels march forth, tears cascade like small streams on Fu Xuan's features because she knows this is the last conversation. Her hand keeps in place while watching your figure gradually shrink into the bands of light, embarking on the suicide mission.  

Twilight dyes the Cetral Starskiff Haven into a honeyed hue, pouring his shadow long onto the cemented ground. The evening breeze wafts in the scent of mid-summer, causing the scarlet hair tie to dangle slowly while Jing Yuan is grazing the sunset. His mind winds up reminiscing about your record, about that fatal day. 

You confessed all your sins, described detailed tactics of your scheme in a willing video, and pinpointed your study's whereabouts in the first half.

[...Luofu needs you, Lord Jing Yuan. I was always the one who was protected, so this is my turn to protect you as well as the whole of Xianzhou. As a discerning general, I ascertained you know it is impossible to win without casualties and sacrifices more than anyone else. Even though offering up my life cannot redeem my crime, I still hope you will forgive me.]

Your arrival at the frontline was most opportune when everyone was on their knees. Jing Yuan's pupils squeezed at the scene of you proceeding forward with a peary shaman uniform. As you acknowledged your presence, a sudden sensation of a familiar and alien mixture boiled up his blood like a deja vu phenomenon. He foresaw a vicious omen when the milieu gradually shifted into a foreign landscape according to your spells. Precisely, the one with a flowery blooming hill and roseate pastel petals looms freely. Because the Stellaron's core was attached to the Ambrosial Arbor's ley line, the sensible way to destroy it was using your fate to cut off the link between them by creating a Bounded Field. 

You acquired the relic and its summoning rhapsody from a nomadic entrepreneur for your collecting hobby. At first, you thought it was no more than a myth until you nearly died in an impromptu trial. Jing Yuan never barked orders to you before, but he did back then because this ancient omnipotent power of Divine Phoenix would consume your life and shatter your spirit core, which meant you could not reincarnate.

However, staying in the cosmos of the Imaginary Hanging Garden, he was but a spectator who bore witness to the sacrificial rite. 

"Breath of flame, wings of iron

Resurrect in the evening shroud

We seek for thine salvation 

Hear me, and materialize thineself, Millennial Aegis!" 

The light of four directions rendezvous immediately at the melody from your jade flute. Aurora borealis proudly formed the cupola shape aloft while the Orion constellation blazed in the vermillion sky. All the exaggerated phenomena used to welcome a gigantic phoenix descends. 

A paramount terror besieged Jing Yuan's features when he saw the Extreme Crevasse covering your hands and creeping up your face. 

When Millenial Aegis beat its wings and annihilated the Stellaron's core, the Bounded Field progressively faded, and so did you. The general darted toward you as quickly as possible, but your body completely evaporated into the ether, leaving behind your belongings before he could reach you. The jade flute carving of an elaborate phoenix rolled beside his heel whilst Jing Yuan held your shaman attire dumbfoundedly. 

"Glory to the Xianzhou." was your last sentence with a peaceful smile. 

Immortal is supposed to be a heavenly gift but turns out to be an eternal torment when it carries an unrecoverable wound and chronic affliction, which causes him half-dead, half-alive. Autumn left, Winter came, Spring withered, and endless loops of seasons with time dusting the old memories cannot replenish his hollow soul. Even in another life, you two will never have happiness because it is a perpetual partition. Jing Yuan does not usually tolerate liars, yet he made an exception for you because no matter how hard he tried, the man could not nurture grudges whom he loves to the world beyond. His heart still throbs beside your memento-the red Camillia hair ornament that neatly stays at the inner chest pocket but no longer shows vital signs. 

[I am not afraid of falling into limbo. I only mind that my contribution becomes meaningless. Please live a happy life henceforth devoid of me because this is the last time I say 'I always love thee.']

Jing Yuan was just dreaming. Dreaming of having another chance to protect you and see your smile once again. 

Millions of possibilities cannot bring you back; he knows because he tried.

Millions of tears either, he knows because he cried. 

Footnote: I intend to write for Dan Feng next, but it will take a long time, and I won't post any fics in the near future. Therefore, you can unfollow me if you want. Again, thank you to all readers who love my fanfic.

[unhingedcanadianbacon]

I’m gay for a raccoon and the raccoon is just as gay as me send help

Okay…

So, I understand “hopping on the gravy train” is kind of cliche, but I promise I have a good reason for it!

…I guess I should start ‘Rambling on about it’ then!

(I’m so sorry, none of these puns were intentional, but they were too good to miss)

—So, Indigo Park;

what even I would’ve expected was another quick cash-grab game in the mascot-horror genre, turned out to be a game that managed to make me start binge-watching livestreams and video-essays about the game, it’s characters and its development on the whole,

Just like every other millennial and gen-z’er out there.

I know it’s absolutely normal for people to become invested in something so quick…

But it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so attached —so spoken to,

especially when I haven’t really been part of those big ‘band-wagon’ trends at all,

at least with the exception of forcing myself to watch shows with my friends —which again, I don’t do much of that either.

From what I understand, there are technically multiple small factors that have led me to become attached to this game.

But frankly, there all of really part of the one major reason why there’s just, that, ‘something’ —a “spark” if you will—that makes me click with a game for the first time in so many years that it physically hurts.

He’s the star of the show, the elephant in the room:

Rambley;

A cute, furry-raccoon —who likes trains!

Now, as anyone who knows anything about me will tell you, these two factors are inherently weaknesses in my mental psyche.

Why, you may ask? It’s simple!

Firstly, —I too— like trains.

Also, I come from Toronto, Canada — a city famously (or to some infamously) known for its love-hate relationship with its unofficial mascot: the trash pandas! They’re an animal which I got to know well over 13 years, 10 months and ~15 1/2 hours of being a Torontonian.

—Which leads me to the second-half of the other reasons I resonate so god-damn hard with the game, and Rambley in particular:

Isolation

It felt quite funny that the number of days that poor-old AI racoony’ spent alone in the abandoned park was almost exactly double that of the days I’ve been a ‘Quasi-Canadian’ living in the United States, with not much interaction with my family back “home”. I had a single trip back for the first time in multiple years.

—It brang back a lot of memories which so happened to be similar to the ideas mentioned during Rambley’s post-chase exposition.

That little break in his character just made my heart literally melt and shatter and implode all at the same time;

“A little heart-to-heart” as they say, but just.. the way he breaks and talks like a true person, things he isn’t sure about, didn’t know, shouldn’t have done, is painfully, gushingly personal somehow!

It’s also extra cool when he gets excited about restoring the park, as being a former (small) volunteer and hearing about railway preservation stories, you start to realize and appreciate just how much having that other person helping you means when fighting in these “David and Goliath”-esque battles to keep old or unloved things going when everything is telling you it’s impossible.

(Side note, the extra lines where Rambley showcases his sentience and lets you into the staff-only area after realizing Mollie is chasing you made me love him just that much more, and is also what makes me feel the game is just that extra bit special.)

Long story short (TL;DR):

The honesty, personality, and just general likeness of the characters hits very close to home for me,

if for no other reason than that I happen to have (in concept at least) similar experiences in terms of feeling (though thankfully not literally being) isolated from friends.

Cheers, Critters!

—A.

[galderthefuzzy]

The Cryomancer

I had the pleasure to work on this piece for the winner of the 14k Giveaway, Selanna. Congratulations! The character was quite exciting to depict - having a draenei battlemage cryomancer to work with was something new and enjoyable. I hope you like the final result!

Here is a background story for Cyana, provided by Selanna. 

Cyana was born on Draenor, in a village called Embaari. Her mother is a tailor and her father a Talbuk rancher. She was a very shy a quiet child, having trouble to go to others, she started to think she was worthless. She sacrificed her happiness so other would be happy. It made her cry but that's how she grew up.

Some day she started to get interested in magic and more specifically the school of ice. Despite Draenei having a culture tied the arcane for millennials, they lost a bit of their trust in this magic after her people felt for power on Argus 25000 years ago.

Years of  being introverted made Cyana think she wasn't welcome amongst her people.

When the burning legion struck Draenor, she hid in Zangar with her parents and other refugees until they flew from that world with the Exodar.

Due to a sabotage, the ship crashed on Azure mist. Luckily, she and her family survived, but being completely disoriented by everything that happen, she ran away from her people, finding solace with the alliance and more specifically the Kirin'tor who helped her to pursue her learning.

A couple years later, the scourge awakened. Being now an accomplished  Cryomancer of the Kirin'tor, she was detached in battles against the undead. She fought well during many battles, but she met a young mage that would change her life.

This was the first battle of that mage. Being worried, Cyana tried to comfort her and stand by her side to watch over her for the upcoming battle. At first it was going well but it was before a Death knight managed to cross the front line and reached the back line. Cyana tried to protect the young mage, but her power sealed away by the death knight, she was powerless. A paladin killed the abomination but it was too late, he had time to stab the young mage, bleeding on the freezing snow.

Cyana crawled to her, cursing herself for all of this. She felt so weak at this moment and kept saying she was sorry. She received a smile and a few  last words : "I'll be watching over you. Always".

This is Cyana's biggest failure in her mind. She realized that her power alone wouldn't be able to protect others. What if she can't use them. She decided this had to change. She would pick a weapon and wear an armor, combining it to her spells. She would get in the front line, risking her life so others wouldn't have to do it.

For years after that, she fought fearlessly of death, being convinced she had nothing to lose.

She stand against threats that appeared on Azeroth but without denying principles. She would not take part in the conflict between the horde and the alliance.

When Garrosh opened the timegate to Draenor, Cyana had the chance to see a homeworld once again.

This was as beautiful as it was painful. She swore to not let this Draenor fall like the Outland.

She fought again and again, until she had the lead of a small unit to attack the hellfire citadel in  Tanaan Jungle. A big assault went on the citadel. Breaking the gates, they were here to take out the frontline.

The joint effort of every soldier managed to make an opening but the canon were still active, shooting infernal at them. Cyana protected her unit, with all her power and was badly wounded.

She survived and after months to recover, she went back to Dalaran. The burning legion soon came back as well, infiltrating the flying city. Cyana took place as a guard of Dalaran.  Her only implication on the field was to infiltrate a camp, turning herself into an Eredar thanks to illusions and artefacts to disguised her aura.

She was proud of what she accomplished and yet she was feeling empty. All those years of casting away her emotions, she was slowly losing her light and her will.

The new conflict between the alliance and the horde didn't help and little by little she got weaker. It's only after she met a lightforged that she found some solace.

She felt in love with her, and after some time, a bound was born between the two Draenei. The lightforged reconciled Cyana with her people and her parents that she didn't see for 12 years.

She almost retired from fight only taking her armor back when the scourge and the creatures of the shadowlands attacked Azeroth. She was affected at the silver tournament in Northrend.

The scenario of her old fight  almost repeated itself, a young mage being powerless against an enemy who could resist to her powers. Cyana took the hit, stabbed by a long spear.

This wasn't the end for her though. She had something to live for. She wanted to live. She was saved at the last second and healed in Dalaran.

Since the remaining of the war was taking place in the veil and most of people ignoring what was happening there, Cyana was just wandering on Azure Mist, trying to find a new goal in her life.

Being in love and in a serious relation for years helped her to become more mature. She decided she would help her people now. She started to teach magic to young Draenei and joined as an assistant in the townhall of Azure watch. The city has expended well with time and is now bigger than her home town Embaari.

Instead of protecting people, she now wants to bring light and happiness in their heart without sacrificing her happiness this time. She would still take her weapon if the situation ask for it like when the primalist were rampaging some region.

Cyana aims to be a beacon of hope. She'll guide people who needs her help or advice, she'll give her everything to bring a smile on a crying face. No matter who you are, you deserve a chance if you want one. She will forgive if you truly want to change things. But mostly, she won't let anyone down so they can see the peaceful future she wants to build.

[everyepisodeofallymcbeal]

S1 E4 - The Affair

This episode is all about Women in STEM:

Sexual impropriety

Telling Lies

Entrepreneurship

M - ok, take the M, turn it upside down so it's a W, and the word for this letter is Wigs. The wigs this episode are positively demonic.

Let's dive into the episode.

---

Jane Krakowski has never been more Jenna Maroney that when she is wearing a face bra and trying to find investors. If I said this sentence to a mental health professional with no context, they would have me institutionalized. And I would be grateful for it!

But seriously folks, if Ally McBeal took place in 2025, Elaine would get on TikTok, start selling her Face Bra (which is essentially already a TikTok trend), make enough money to leave Cage & Fish, and then be cancelled and return to Cage & Fish by the end of the episode.

Ally tries to dim Elaine's light and crush her entrepreneurial dreams. Ally McBeal is not like other girls, she's worse. Thank GOD Richard walks over to support Elaine! Richard Fish -- feminist ally! I think Richard's quote "there's no embarrassing way to make money," was a prescient statement about the turn from Gen X's fears of "selling out" towards to the Millennial Hustle Culture and the influencer #sponsoredAd economy.

---

THE WIGS!

Ally's wig in the flashback is so bad! I know they had to do something to make her look younger, but that is a Party City (RIP) wig from a "Shrill Attorney" costume.

AND THEN they put the dead professor's daughter in another horrible wig! Why did they do that? What was wrong with the daughter's hair? Surely, if there was a problem with the child actor's hair, they could have cast a different 9 year old girl to turn around and look sullen.

---

Professor Dawson...

...is a liar. Obviously, to his wife. Definitely, to Ally, when he mischaracterized his marriage to make it seem like it was over.

And then the flashback when he was like "Ally, you're the love of my life, I only love you, etc. etc." he is either unstable and fallen in love after like 6 months with this anemic 25-year-old, OR he's lying to manipulate Ally (sorry, not trying to wade too far into Gen Z age-gap discourse, but like, oh no this doesn't seem healthy), OR, and my favorite explanation -- sorry, my favorite explanation is that while guys in powerful positions can/do/will lie, but my favorite ALTERNATIVE explanation -- is that Ally McBeal is an unreliable narrator and her flashbacks do not reflect reality. While we "see" Professor Dawson in love with Ally, what probably happened was that Ally was a fling as part of a mid-life crisis. Ally is obsessed with the idea of being in love and being the object of love. Of course, as a young woman, stressed from year 3 of Harvard Law, she sees the attention of her professor as fulfilling her desires to be loved and wanted. That would explain the melodrama of the flashbacks where Prof. Dawson says such out-of-pocket things as "Ally, you're the person I've always dreamed of." Sorry, people don't say shit like that, TV hunks and the brooding antiheroes of YA fantasy novels say shit like that.

To take this theory further -- Later in the episode, Ally "lies" to the widow but in fact is telling the truth when Ally explains that it was a mid-life crisis, and Prof. Dawson loved his family more than Ally. It is emotionally painful for Ally to reconcile her fantasy of the relationship (as we saw in flashbacks) with the reality of the situation. We are constantly shown how Ally's grip on reality is fleeting. Time and again, we are shown that Ally has a difficult time judging when to act honestly, and when to perhaps cover the truth or hold her tongue. Speaking the truth of the situation out loud makes real the lack of love and desire she feels. In real-time, she is trying to rectify this past version of herself and the truth as Cheanie breaks up with her! The pain of reality is unavoidable. This pain drives her straight into the arms of Billy, and she is now set on ruining his relationship with Georgia to feed her insatiable desire for love.

---

Does Ally have a cluster B personality disorder? I do not know, I am not a psychologist, just a boy without a job. But I do think she could benefit from psychotherapy. I would hope the benefits at Cage & Fish would cover mental health treatment!

---

In the end, Ally delivers an inappropriate and unhinged eulogy at Professor Dawson's funeral. Funerals, as they say, are for the living. And whether Ally's eulogy reflects the truth is frankly, less relevant than the myths told about the deceased, and the truths we tell ourselves and each other as we try to construct our lives and our realities.