#the steroid thing is very weird to me!

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! Weird question time. Medical related, but not super detailed so I'm not putting it behind a read more Since I moved, I have a new endocrinologist, who is pretty great! He ordered a whole bunch of tests, some I'd never had before, and I tested negative for like...everything. He wants to put me on short course steroids to see if it helps*, and if it does, he wants to test me for autoimmune arthropathy. I had to look that up, but it looks like that a broad term for autoimmune issues involving the joints? Here's the problem: I don't have joint issues. Can autoimmune arthropathy just like skip the joints and only affect other systems? *it will help. It always does. Also, it is extremely weird to me that I tested negative for everything, had zero symptoms in his office, and the guy is just giving me steroids. I will never get used to Tennessee's medical system compared to California's

[mars-ipan]

god i cannot wait to be off these steroids…

[seventh-district]

.

[adultbabystories]

< Old bully, New boss > The past is in the past, and after high school, you set your mind only on the future. 

High school can be so cruel, kids can be so cruel. As an adult, you knew there was nothing wrong with being a little overweight or being a bit weird, just being yourself is okay. But your teen years were awful. You were being picked on by bigger, older, masculine kids. Nobody showed real interest in you. You had a good friend or two, but that was about it. Not to mention you had no young love at all. To this day, you're thanking the universe for the fact those bullies didn’t know about your bedwetting problem. You knew that if high school was rough, it could be much worse.

In college, you decided to make a change. To become fitter, healthier, stronger, physically and mentally. The past is the past, and you have the whole future ahead of you. In time, you fell in love with sports and decided to take a break from studying and take a course to become a personal trainer. 

Your hometown is long away, this is the new you. Not the little bedwetter weirdo kid, but a large-ass fit-looking man. You felt that when you sent your resume to the local gyms.

After a day, a well-known gym called you back and booked you an interview with the owner for the next day. You were so excited that you picked out the best outfit you could think of. Sporty, but classy and serious. Showing your worked-hard body, but not overly revealing. You had to make it just right.

Walking into the gym, you were a bit overwhelmed by how pristine and well-maintained it was, probably for the rich and famous. A receptionist greeted you and led you to the owner’s office where she knocked and opened the door for you to get in.

A huge man stood up and greeted you. By the looks of it, he was doing steroids, but you weren’t completely sure about it. Not to mention he was very good-looking and got you a bit nervous just for it. There was something familiar about him.

“Nice to meet you Mark, the manager here told me it’s your name. Sorry but I still didn’t go through your resume, he just said we need to call you in, and we did.” He said and gestured to the chair next to you.

”Thank you, I’m honored by the thought of working here. Not only it is one of the best gyms in the area, but I feel like there are so many potential opportunities to develop my future clients, and myself.” You said, still trying in your mind to figure out why he was so familiar.

”That’s great! I like your attitude! So my name is Will,” his name was Will.

Fuck! That was Will! One of your high school bullies! Shit he had changed so much. He surely took steroids, he wasn’t that big at all. But look at him now, he’s massive, bigger than you. Plus, he owns this place, and he is more successful than you. He is the owner, the boss, the interviewer, the one in control.

”Now let me check your resume real quick, for formality and all,” he winked and took a look.

”Wait, Mark Spencer? Shit, I knew I recognized you, from high school! Well, most of the time you were facing me while I gave you good wedgies. Ha!” he laughed and gave the table a loud knock. 

It made you flinch a little, while your mind raced to the whole humiliating things Will and his friends did to you in high school.

”Bla bla bla, you’re hired! My manager said we should hire you and I trust him completely. Congratulations! Now for the real question -“ suddenly something changed in his behavior.

”Is it true you were wetting your pants and wearing diapers to bed? It was a rumor that went around just after we graduated so we couldn’t pick on you, but you are lucky because kids can be cruel with this kind of information! Ah, Mark the bed wetter! In my gym!” Will talked and laughed, while you sat there, blushing red from embarrassment. 

“Well, that job is your pampers, you want it?” He asked and waited for your reply. 

“Yes, yes thank you Will” You answered, trembling a bit.

”Off you go then, my manager will contact you. But I have only one demand for now.” He said and waved for you to come closer, and you did.

”The equipment here is very expensive and I can’t have big babies wetting it. So either you control yourself or we can help you with buying adult diapers for you to wear around here as a uniform! Ha!” He couldn’t help but laugh right in front of your face.

”Go go” he waved you off, still laughing. 

You turned around, degraded, humiliated, holding your crotch while running for the nearest bathroom to release your full and erupting bladder. ------------------------------------ Our past, complicated as it is, makes us who we are today. It forms our dislikes, but also our likes and desires.

[scientia-rex]

Best Things I Have Bought

I'm not sure how successful I will be in remembering all of it, but I'll try. These have all been game-changers for me, in a variety of ways. If teen me had had access to all of these, I would have been a vastly happier person.

This one is long, so I'll put in a cut.

-outlet timers. Not having to go around and manually turn off lamps at bedtime? Amazing. I bought these but you can and should get some that have a grounded outlet with three prongs so you can attach good extension cords to them.

-famotidine. aka Pepcid, it's the safest option I currently know of for managing acid reflux. I get nauseated when I get acid reflux, so this is a necessity for me.

-T-Gel shampoo. The only one that keeps my husband's insane dandruff under control. Coal tar shampoos smell peculiar, but are totally worth it if they work. For my hair, I like anti-dandruff conditioner--I apply it to my scalp and my other conditioners to the length of my hair. After bleaching my hair, I use Olaplex 3 to prevent more severe damage; the difference is very noticeable.

-white vinegar for a laundry rinse. I get horrendous contact dermatitis and adding this in the "fabric softener" cup in my washer keeps things from making my skin burn.

-on a similar note, all Oxy laundry booster. Doesn't make my skin burn but does make stains and smells noticeably better than detergent alone.

-Aquaphor. If you have eczema, nothing helps like Aquaphor, unless it's hydrocortisone ointment (the same white petrolatum base as Aquaphor but with hydrocortisone) or a prescribed steroid.

-Bissell Stomp 'N' Go pads. I have stomped. The stain goes.

-Prune puree. A packet a day keeps the chronic constipation at bay. Less volume to consume than prune juice and, in my opinion, slightly more palatable.

-Chinotto is a bitters-based beverage that I discovered by accident really helps my chronic nausea. I've tried other brands, and San Pellegrino is definitely my favorite. Tastes weird at first, but when heavy-duty ginger ale doesn't ease it, Chinotto can. And when that doesn't work, I have Zofran (ondansetron) my doctor prescribed me for the nausea I get with migraines, and that's an effective anti-nausea agent for more than just migraines.

-"You Just Need to Lose Weight (And 19 Others Myths About Fat People)" by Aubrey Gordon.

-rolling laundry cart. Doesn't have to be this one but if you CAN roll your laundry to and fro from the machines, do it.

-"Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men" by Lundy Bancroft. If you Google, you can usually find a free pdf floating around.

-"The Vagina Bible," by Dr. Jen Gunter.

-satin scrunchies. Wet Brush. Terry cloth lined shower cap. AOA terry cloth hair turban (way, way better than similar ones from drugstore).

-stretchy work pants.

-bra liners. For large-chested people who tend to get sweaty underboob, this is a life-saver.

-Goo Gone.

-Dr. Scholls medicated foot powder and the Earth Therapeutics tea tree oil foot spray. The foot powder works for super long days and the spray for lighter days.

-Reflective heat pad. I use this on my car seat in the winter and I am so happy for that every single chilly morning. I've repurchased it... once or twice? now.

-Retin-A. I used to use Differin, which is adapalene, the most potent retinoid available over the counter, but the switch to prescription-only Retin-A has been very noticeable. Decreased wrinkles, clearer skin. More inclined to flake and burn but it's worth it for me.

-Red LED therapy. Near-infrared stimulates collagen production in the skin. The only other thing that really does that is retinoids. I bought the Omnilux mask, which is certainly high-end, but HotandFlashy (a YouTube content creator) did a great comparison of different masks available by specs and this was the best at the time. The difference is noticeable within days. I've tried other, lower-powered masks, but what made me make the jump to high-end was that I got the Dennis Gross red LED eye mask for crows' feet off eBay and I was like "holy shit, this is better." And Omnilux is better still. It makes sense, since they were the OG of the models that have been in dermatology clinics for a couple of decades now.

-AOA foundation has been at least as good at my TooFaced foundation, and it's like 1-2 bucks instead of 40. There are light, medium, and deep shades, each on different pages; I'm linking to light because that's what I use. The lightest shade works for me, and I'm basically translucent.

-AOA VitaGlow tinted moisturizer is absolutely my go-to for lighter coverage days.

-AOA PawPaw blending sponges. Best out there and also the cheapest.

-(do not buy any of the AOA eyeshadows. Total waste of time, zero pigment. I've tried repeatedly and they're just garbage. The highlights are generally fine though.)

-Direct acid foot peels. The calluses come off. Just don't do it when you have ANY open wound on the feet, because it's acid and will sting like hell.

-blendercleanser solid cleanser for blending sponges and brushes. Actually a) gets them clean and b) rinses out.

-PureWine wine wands. I let these puppies sit for three minutes in a glass and suddenly I can drink red wine without migraines or hangovers. Fucking miraculous.

-Dustbuster. Holy shit it's amazing for ADHD peeps. Small thing bugging you? Can't get yourself to bust out the "real" vacuum? USE THIS.

-Crocs. Don't @ me. I wear a black pair around the house and for garden chores and they make my feet happy. Salonpas patches and/or BenGay for a topical when you're sore--topicals are great pain relief.

-Vibrating neck pillow. Don't need it right now? Wait until your next head cold. Vibration clears sinuses.

-PooPourri. I love not having to smell poop. This, and similar products, work pretty well by trapping scent particles in the oil layer instead of letting them evaporate into the air.

-Electric snow thrower. I can't manage a large, heavy snow blower and I don't want to deal with a gas engine. This little guy helped me clear my large driveway in 3-4 hours instead of 12.

-The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, by Carl Sagan.

-Handheld home IPL for hair removal. I ordered this exact one and I like it. You can get these on eBay or Amazon for cheaper sometimes; just make sure you PROTECT YOUR EYES during flashes. Targets pigment in the hair bulb so lighter skin and darker hair work better, and deeper skin tones may burn.

-Lanolin chapstick. Makes all other chapsticks I've used look like garbage.

-Steam eye masks. ShopMissA sells these and you can find them on a lot sites; shouldn't cost more than about a dollar per mask. I ended up buying an electric eye mask because I wanted to treat my dry eye and that just felt more environmentally responsible, but I love falling asleep with these on and I can't do that with my plug-in mask.

I think this is where I'll leave it--I've gone back quite a ways in my shopping history across multiple sites and thought about my daily routines--but if any of these problems torture you, these are my suggestions.

[transformation4life]

Peak Musclenity

Josh was your average skinny american blonde. Average grades and average life. There was nothing remarkable about this guy... besides maybe one thing.

Josh was gay. Very very gay and was trying to get big like the men he admires over the internet waves. And against all odds he managed to make a friend at the gym! A czech bodybuilder named Alois. Unlike Josh, Alois was as straight as can be and understanding gay people was the least of his problems, but Josh was failing at using a workout machine so bad it led to the two to meeting and becoming workout buddies.

Josh was never one to give up and despite his currently lacking frame he continued to workout even after weeks of no results. Alois noticed this and was starting to get worried Josh's body just wasn't able to get big like his. Alois wanted to do something so do something he did and it was going to be drastic...

"Hey Alois! My man, my big burly man! How's it going?" Josh ran up to Alois mid-flexing routine.

"Oh hey kid, what's up?" Alois replied back.

"Nothing much! Just excited to work out with you!" Josh smiled.

"Great, great...." Alois frowned.

"Is... something wrong?"

"Be honest with me Josh, I've noticed you haven't been gaining muscle for weeks now and you keep that damn smile like nothing's wrong. Your lack of muscle has to be bothering you!" Alois put his hand on Josh's shoulder

"I'm just concerned for ya-" Josh politely removed Alois's hand.

"Don't worry about me! I've noticed this myself actually... and I don't mind at all! I'm just glad to be doing with you!" Josh smiled again.

Alois looked down to his pockets. Alois knew that he had to do this. He needed to give Josh what he DESERVES.

"Look Josh, you deserve to get big like me so I got this supplement for you." Alois grabs a bottle from one of his shorts pockets.

"Don't worry. It ain't no steroid. Just lather it on your face and the effect should spread to your body." Alois put the bottle in Josh's right hand.

"Please, for me." Alois said sweetly.

Alois's deep voice was always something Josh adored so despite his reluctance to accept the gift he did keep it.

"Alright then... uh... are we going to work out now or-"

"Nah. Let's go to your apartment. Just us two."

"Oh! Ohohohohohohoh!" Josh started to blush a beet red.

"A-Alright let's go then!!" Josh quickly turned around as Josh led the way to his apartment.

After a 30 minute drive for both of the men they both arrived at Josh's apartment. Josh unlocked the door with his keys and put his arms towards the apartment living room as if to showcase it.

"Here it is!!! It's not great, but it works!" Josh said with confidence.

Just looking at the place tightened Alois's resolve to go through with his plan.

"Yes... very. Say Josh, how about you apply that supplement now?" Alois gestured to the bottle in his pocket

"Hm? Why now? We're not even at the gym plus I don't think we're gonna be at the gym again until-"

"Just apply it for me please." Alois interrupted Josh again.

Josh was getting really confused at this point, but if the bulging man is asking you to do something you might as well. At least that was Josh's reasoning. So Josh unsealed the lid to the bottle and removed the foil covering the liquid inside and dipped his fingers in and out of the bottle before applying it to his face all over. The substance was a bit thick and a very dark black and it made Josh's skin crawl, but somehow Josh could feel the liquid seeping into his skin leave his face clean again.

"Woah... that was weird! Hopefully it actually works..." Josh looked at Alois for some affirmation only for Alois to be deep in thought.

"Alois? you good?" Alois jumped at the mention of his name.

"Yes, yes! I'm fine!!"

"Okay then, so now that we're at my apartment do you want to do anything?" Josh asked a bit nervous.

"Oh, sure! Though there's something I've been meaning to ask you, Josh,"

"Yeah?" Josh gave a really curious look this time.

Alois opened his mouth only to pause for a second... only for Alois to shake his head before speaking again.

"Josh, when did you have such a beautiful manly beard?" Alois knew there was no going back from this.

"A m-manly what?!?" Alois implying Josh had a beard certainly wasn't something that Josh was expecting.

"Yeah, that beard of yours is thick like mine. a real item," As Alois spoke little by little hairs began to grow on Josh's clean shaven face.

The growing didn't stop for a long while and before long a beard that looks to have been growing for years was now on Josh. Unexpectedly though the facial hair was a deep black and Josh's blonde hair was now black to match the beard. A quick pain went through Josh's head before Josh's confusion turned into confidence.

"Oh thanks, I did always pride myself on not ever shaving it! Doesn't really fit my frame but my genetics blessed me!" Josh smiled as he caressed his beard.

"Of course! Can't forget that almost shaved head of yours too!" Alois continued his trek across Josh's body.

"What are you talking about Alois? I love my curly locks!" Alois stopped messing with his beard and grabbed his hair to show Alois that he did have the locks he said he did.

"No need to lie to yourself, Josh. That shaved hair is a good look with your beard!" And just like Alois planned Josh's hair began to fall off and melt into the floor like it wasn't even there until there was barely any hair on Josh's head.

Josh was still grabbing his hair but his mind caught up with the new reality and smiled again.

"Silly me! You're right! I love the kind of masculine look it gives me! Still no muscle though haha..." Alois knew that last comment wouldn't last long.

"That masculine look really suits you, Josh. Especially with those big muscles and tattoo of yours," Now Alois was the one to smirk.

This absolutely flabbergasted Josh. There's no way Alois was telling the truth. Wasn't it just an hour ago Alois was worried about his muscle gain. Josh was a stick!

"Alois I appreciate your compliment but it's simply untrue... I'm a twig and I definitely have no tattoos. I hate tattoos!!"

"That was what you thought years ago, but look at you now! Gruff and tough and just as old as me!" This was the big one and Alois was ecstatic to see Josh's frail body begin to grow.

Before the growth could start, all of Josh's clothes evaporated off his body. The growth now began in Josh's chest as he developed two large pecs that were dying to be popped. Next was Josh's stomach as it became a strong gut and slight hint of abs being there. Josh's back expanded like a large map meanwhile his stick arms were sticks no more as they were now more like tree trunks and his hands grew into sausage like fingers with very rough texture after years of lifting weights. Josh's legs weren't far behind in growing until they were two thick rocks of pure muscle. Josh's flat ass ballooned up into the perfect bubble butt and his feet grew a couple sizes too. Josh's face was next up to bat when it began to physically age and become much more gruff and masculine. Josh's neck thickened as his adam's apple became more prominent. Josh already looked like a completely different person at this point and Josh was none the wiser, but the show still wasn't done. Out of nowhere ink began to surface on Josh's skin with various patterns running all over his arms, back, fingers, pecs, and chest. The most unique one being one that was just "5%" etched on his left pec. While this was happening Josh's dick became quite the well endowed one with a generous 9 inch schlong. The final change wasn't too major with Josh's body being flourished with body hair all over his now huge frame. Josh didn't speak through the whole ordeal, but with a quick change of Josh's memories he just smiled.

"Yeah... you're right. I am BIG and I am a true man!!" Josh flexed his bulging arms and with a shiny gleam a ring appeared on his ring finger.

Alois was quick to notice the accent and deep voice Josh now had. Alois supposed the "just like me" comment changed his birthplace. He also noticed Josh's face being more like his own as well. Alois couldn't believe the black liquid worked. That purchase from the black market was worth all the money he spent. Alois just wasn't sure what to do now-

"Hey Alois, do you see this ring on my ring finger? I don't remember putting this on... Did you pull a prank on me? Pretend we're married? Haha!" Ah right, Josh was still as gay as ever.

Alois thought for a moment. Should a gruff and tough guy like the new Josh be gay? Alois was straight as an arrow and didn't feel like he had the right to change Josh's sexuality.

But... imagining Josh in his current state as gay didn't seem right to Alois. This Josh belongs with marrying a woman! Atleast that's what Alois reasoned. So Alois readied his response and spoke.

"Oh come on, Josh you know full that-"

"Wait we're actually married? I thought you were straight," It was time for Josh to do a little bit of rearranging.

A wedding ring appeared on Alois's ring finger and memories were injected into both men. Memories of meeting way earlier than they actually did. Memories of falling in love through the power of bodybuilding. Memories of their wedding as they kissed under the altar. It wasn't before long after the memories of their lived changed as they passionately kissed right in Josh's apartment which slowly changed into their joint home.

"Babe, у теб�� скоро фотосессия..." (Babe, you have that photoshoot soon…) Alois spoke after the kiss ended.

"I know... I have to take a shower.." Josh spoke back.

Josh was still naked and wasted no time hopping in the shower. Josh turned on the showerhead and hopped in letting the cold water lay waste on his large muscular body. Alois while watching his beloved get in the shower realized they were no clean towels in there oh no! Alois quickly grabbed one and rushed to the shower.

"You forgot a towel!" Alois slammed the door open right as Josh finished his shower. Guess it was a quick one.

"Thanks babe, but I can get my own damn towel next time alright" Josh grabbed the towel and started to dry himself.

Before he continued drying himself off he flexed to his husband just to make sure he knows that he loves his man. Josh even did a little pout with his lip!

After Josh finished drying, Alois handed his husband the clothes for the photo shoot later today. Josh quickly put on one of the American flag branded shorts and underwear then went straight to grooming his beard for the shoot.

"Удачи в фотосессии. Я тебя люблю!" (Good luck with the photo shoot. I love you!) Alois said to Josh as he started to leave.

"Тоже тебя люблю!" (Love you too!) Josh left his house completely different than when he entered it moments ago.

Josh became the man of his dreams and Alois was along for the ride as his husband. Josh's photo shoot showed off the new Josh in a glorious way.

First picture by the pool...

Second picture with a cat...

Third picture lifting some mad iron...

And the final picture by the local beach...

As the shoot finished Josh couldn't help but flex in triumph. This was the life! a huge husband, a huge him, and a promoter for products! Josh was a true man. Always has been and always will be with a muscular husband by his side.

[doonarose]

GOAD Writer's Guild presents: Give Me Jizz or Give Me Death - A Choose Your Own Jizz (CYOJ) Adventure

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARLOTOFUPDOG OMG!!!!!!!!

(yes, you should feel equal parts pleased and terrified, we wrote you choose your own jizz/graveyard/dark/ghost/crack/weird fic)

And yes, the rest of you can read it too!

Summary: It is a dark and porny night. Everything feels… spooky. And salty. Really, really salty. Tread lightly in this Choose Your Own Adventure fic, our Ineffables have the odds stacked against them as they step foot onto an island with danger around every corner. All they really want is to have a nice picnic… Well, maybe a bit more than that.

Enter if you dare.

TW: Although this is very much for fun (and yay happy birthday, we love you!), we have hit the big ones: major character deaths, graphic violence (and death), noncon. As well as disgusting jizz, ghosts and cameos by characters you perhaps would rather not see in ways you definitely don’t want to see them. Basically: dead dove, don’t eat. On steroids. But for fun.

A/N: Yes, so happy birthday u/harlotofupdog!!! And welcome to the second iteration of the @goodomensafterdark Choose Your Own Adventure style fic. This wasn’t meant to happen. We only had a week or so to whip up something quick and easy to celebrate our dear, dark, jizzy Harlot, and instead here we are with some of the most ghastly, gooey choices a reader will ever have to make.

The premise is simple, borrowing heavily from Harlot’s own very brilliant Good Omens fics, our story begins with Crowley and Aziraphale on a windswept island, out for an adventure and choosing to explore the lighthouse (of course), the graveyard (obviously), or a pub (the trifecta of Best Ever Fic Settings). Within each, our heroes could find their bliss or their very worst endings. How happily they end up depends entirely on your choices.

At the end of each chapter you will have to choose what happens next. Navigate by clicking the links, NOT by clicking ‘next chapter’.

Amazing thanks to u/wingsofopal and u/nosferatini for thinking this was at all a good idea to try to pull off in a week and for wrangling our exceptional writers, betas and cheerleaders!

Shout out to each and every author: u/adverbian, u/-cheeseplants-, u/blackjeans93, u/startledplatypus, u/FuzzyGoblinoid, u/depressedpenguin2, u/yes-its-unholy, u/Natyu0815, u/gaiaseyes, u/nosferatini, u/happynachohologram, u/wingsofopal, u/paperclip_ninja, u/badbitchbarenziah, u/blackjeans93, u/likeafuckingninja, u/sensiblesquirrels, u/she_makes_things, u/doonarose, u/dbacklot99, u/hakunahistata, u/zin_lynn and u/PurpleMoonPagan for the intro limerick.

I think we all found out some interesting things about ourselves and each other during this journey into the darkest, weirdest, jizziest corners of our brains! Many authors also helped beta each other’s work, as well as special shout-outs to u/pepper_bird, u/ghst_signal and u/tawnyowl95 for extra beta help!

Enormous shoutout to u/IneffableCrankShaft for that amazing cover art!!!! And also to u/likeafuckingninja for some extra special saucy art within the fic!

All of this spunky, gooey, frankly quite weird jizz is for u/harlotofupdog to celebrate their birthday!!! And as a little thank you for their lovely/soul-shattering fic!!

Excerpt:

“Well, this place feels…spooky.” Crowley’s words are whipped away in the wind as it lashes relentlessly through the grass. It howls past them, across the red sandstone cliffs and down to the docks they’ve left behind one trudging step at a time. There’s no turning back, not with rain threatening to pour forth from the evening skies at any moment. Not now that they’ve made it this far up the narrow path to the highest peak of the island, panting and heaving a picnic basket back and forth between them. How many books did the bastard pack, exactly? “WHAT?” Aziraphale calls out, and Crowley turns to face him, locks of his own hair flickering like flame across his vision. “I said, this whole place feels spooky .” “That’s why we’re here, my dear.” Aziraphale has properly caught up to him now, his cheeks pink and his pale curls hopelessly tousled. Crowley’s heart twists at the sight, beating faster. “WOT?” Crowley shouts back, attempting a grin. Aziraphale hands him back the picnic basket with a hearty shove and the makings of a smirk about his lips. “I thought you liked spooky! Big, spooky, um, fan, wasn’t it?”

Read the fic here! And don’t forget your amazing bingo card to play along as you go!

[beatrixstonehill2]

Stella started up a stream for her fans. An unfamiliar woman was behind Stella, looking very mischievous. "Hey everyone, Stella here! And ummm...."

"I'm Corinna! How's everyone doing?"

The chat lit up, looking very excited to see where this was headed. "Soooo, I met Corinna a couple weeks ago. We went on a date. She looked so gorgeous, when I saw her reach out on Tinder I immediately wanted to spend the night with her."

"Mmmmm, come to find out Stella here is just a poor, little fakegirl!"

Stella blushed. "The second she saw my cock she smiled and said she knew I was just a boy playing pretend....."

"That's right! I had my suspicions that he was a boy. But of course I'm right! And what a shock, he's got an OnlyFans and a bunch of adult social media profiles for him to dress up and flaunt his hormone-pumped body. Why, just look at these things!" Corinna grabbed Stella's breasts, shaking them. "So full and fat? How long have you been pretending to be a girl?"

"Seven years...."

Corinna grabbed Stella's breasts until they ached. "Poor dumb boy. I bet you begged mommy and daddy for all this estrogen so you could live out your fantasies of being a porn-addicted adult film star. Did you even consider getting a real career? Or did your teenage boy brain just equate being female to being a porn star?"

"Ummmm..... I, well.... really wanted to do porn once I turned 18. Yeah..."

"Soooo pathetic, my dumb little gooner princess..... Tell your fans what you told me. How many times do you masturbate a day? For how long?"

"I.... um, I masturbate at least eight hours a day. Pretty much all I watch is porn....."

"Such an addict. What a shame. A bright young boy so corrupted and twisted by porn you thought you'd become a big-titted bimbo and get gang-banged for a living? My, such high aspirations, Stella! Er, Steve. Sorry."

"No worries..... I'll have to get used to it....."

"You guys should see how erect he is right now! And he just jerked it to some pregnant college girls giving birth in public like an hour ago. Weird, a bunch of guys were watching and jerking off but no girls. Almost like you're just a boy with fat boobs and a pretty face.... but we'll see if testosterone changes that."

Stella blushed even redder. "I bet I'll look totally different. I'm really gonna be a guy...."

"Sweetheart, you already are. To Steve's fans, we already threw out his hormones. On Monday he starts testosterone, and I convinced his doctor to put him on steroids to help move things along nice and fast. I need his balls nice and bloated with cum if he's gonna breed me!"

Stella bit her lip, starting to jerk off under water. "I'm gonna be such a horny stud..... I'm gonna breed you and any other girls you want.... My mistress."

"That's the spirit. That cock is mine, Stud, and your purpose in life now is to fill wombs with cum until their pussies look ready to gush. No more big-titted bimbo getting fucked in the ass for hours on end. Say goodbye to your pervy little boyish fantasy. It's time you become a man and do what men do. OK, darling?"

"This is so sudden.... but, my cock gets so hard thinking about breeding so many pretty girls. Getting big and strong....."

"Losing these embarrassing fat tits?"

"That too..... I guess I'm really not a girl after all....."

"Finally coming to your senses. Now how about we switch, and you can show your fans how to treat a girl!"

[terukosnumberonefan]

Levi’s Former Identity: A Danganronpa Despair Time Theory

Levi is one of the most interesting characters for me, and I remember when I watched him and Eden discuss his backstory. I found it weird when Levi mentioned wanting to be a good person, since he had shown himself to be kind and caring towards his classmates. So when he said he didn’t actually care about anyone, that sentence finally made sense to me.

However, as I watched that episode, I began to ponder when I thought about another fictional character with antisocial personality disorder, and that’s when I began to realize they had a lot in common. At first, I struggled to believe the realization I came to, like I’m sure you guys will as well. After all, what I’m about to say sounds outlandish and ridiculous. But after looking through all the evidence I compiled, I do have reasons to believe this.

Personally? I believe that Levi used to be Nicole from Class of ‘09.

Now you may be saying to yourselves “But that’s not possible, those two can’t be the same person, right?”. So I ask you to listen to my argument, and by the end you will understand why I believe that these two are the same person.

Argument one, appearance

Firstly, I want you to take note of one really important thing:

The appearance. Appearance is everything you know. Arturo would be pleased to know we are currently focused on appearance.

So let’s focus on appearance.

Take a look at Nicole. Notice the following:

She has blue eyes, brown hair and is wearing blue, a cool color.

Now look at Levi and notice the following:

He has blue eyes, brown hair and is wearing purple, a cool color.

Do you see the similarities?

Now, I know what you may be thinking:

“But… they clearly have different shades of brown in their hair.”. Which is a fair argument to make, young reader, they do indeed have different shades of brown in their hair.

However, as you age there is the chance of your hair becoming lighter, and while Arturo mentioned being 18, that doesn’t inherently mean everyone else is 18 too.

So yeah, for all we know Nicole could have either dyed her hair lighter, or she could have her hair go lighter.

Furthermore, they have almost the exact same shade of blue in their eyes, perhaps from all the stuff Nicole has gone through her eyes turned more gray or she now wears contacts to disguise herself (even though she doesn’t wear glasses). They also have similar-ish shaped eyes minus the fact Nicole doesn’t have two little lashes on the bottom of hers, but who’s to say she doesn’t just grab mascara or false lashes?

So we agree that they look similar, right? Well, perhaps you’re saying “But Levi is more buff than Nicole, they can’t possibly be the same person!”

Well, from those who play Class of ‘09 would know, Nicole is a drug user. We’ve seen her take quite a lot of stuff throughout the series, so who’s to say she’s never taken steroids?

“They have different face shapes”, contour my friends. Nicole can contour up her face.

And yeah they have different genders, however who’s to say that Nicole isn’t disguising herself as a man for reasons that I will get to in a bit? And yes, I do think that Nicole is disguising herself as Levi and not vice versa, and my argument and what I believe happened will clarify this.

So appearance isn’t the problem, they have similarities in appearance and while they may be different personality wise, there’s another thing they have in common that honestly solidifies my theory that Nicole and Levi are indeed the exact same person.

Plus, we don’t know where Nicole’s originally from besides “Coastal America”. I asked the Class of ‘09 subreddit and they pointed out since she’s from Coastal America, doesn’t have a regional accent, obviously not from the west side, then the most likely state could be Connecticut.

Plus, that state is close to New York, which has a fairly high Italian population. Where the last name Fontana originates. Do you see where I’m getting at? It is very likely that Nicole’s last name is Fontana.

That’s evidence 1, they look very similar and the slight differences they do have can be explained through characters and who they are.

Argument 2: Their fault

As we know from the chapter 2 trial so far, Levi had mentioned he killed his dad. But we don’t know how he killed his dad. Technically there are many different definitions we can use here for “killed”.

And one of those definitions? Driving someone to suicide.

As long as we don’t know how his dad died, we can come to our own conclusions. While NOW we know Levi wouldn’t do that anymore because he feels a sense of duty to do “good” even if he doesn’t care about the outcome, how do we know younger Levi- the same person who killed three people (admittedly one in self defense)- would have that same principle?

He wouldn’t.

And do you know who canonically drove her dad to suicide even if we have no clue how she did it? (Not even she knows herself)

Nicole.

Even then, we can use Levi’s duty to do good as even further evidence of him and Nicole being the same person. Yeah, Nicole might not hold the same principle, but people can change as well.

We also know they both have at least one brother, and a mother, and that their families were dysfunctional and toxic. And bad influences on each other.

While yes, Levi mentioned having more than one brother, I believe he’s lying about this due to him and Nicole being the same person and very soon I’ll explain why.

We don’t know how Nicole caused her dad to kill himself, and we don’t know how Levi caused his dad to die. And would you honestly believe that Nicole wouldn’t track guys down and kill them if she got something out of it? And we know Levi NOW wouldn’t have done a lot of the stuff Nicole did… but we also don’t know about Levi's past. We know he killed people, we know he holds no remorse, but why would he care about being a good person? At some point he developed a sense of doing good for others.

What caused him to change and become the person we know him as today? Why would Hope’s Peak scout Nicole as a Personal Stylist of all things? Was Levi responsible for the destruction of the Photo Lab? What happened to the other Class of ‘09 characters?

I think it’s time for me to explain the entire story of what I think happened in order for all of us to truly understand the mystery behind Levi’s past identity.

The story on how Nicole became Levi

So back in High School for Nicole, after her dad killed herself, we know Nicole started doing drugs as I mentioned earlier. At some point however, Nicole messed up. Perhaps this was after breaking Megan and Hunter up, or this was revenge from Mr. Lorre after Nicole and Emily ratted him out. In any case, they sent guys after Nicole and in the process the guys killed Jecka, Nicole’s best friend. When they went after Nicole to attack her, she killed the leader in self defense and then went after the other guys several days later as revenge for killing Jecka. Before Nicole could go to jail however, Emily used her connections with drug dealers to get Hope’s Peak to scout her as the Ultimate Personal Stylist, as she knew Nicole looked good and everyone agreed Nicole was beautiful and pretty fashionable.

And so, Hope’s Peak agreed, and they wiped out Nicole’s past. Nicole realized she probably wouldn’t get bugged by men if she disguised herself as a man and thus she did so. She changed her first name to Levi but kept his last name in order to hold some memory of the past. He cut his hair, dyed it, and started contouring his face so he wouldn’t look like his old self. From the depression of losing Jecka, he stopped caring for good, and he started taking steroids which now give him the muscular appearance. It worked, and Levi started to try and do good things for the sake of Jecka and for her memory. And that’s how we got the Levi we know and love. But was it all worth it in the end?

In conclusion, the story behind Levi and Nicole is a tragic tale, and I do hope this essay proved to you why I think these two are the same person due to being brunettes with ASPD. Thanks for reading the truth. Wait, what do you mean not every brunette with ASPD is the same person and this was a waste of time, what?

[georgiapeach30513]

I'll be honest, while Deuxmoi always and still does post a ton of BS, thanks to the development of this never-ending saga...I'm starting to really feel like she's been used intentionally to push this narrative along all the way from the very beginning. Aka 2021.

A very out there theory but hear me out: Early on, the fandom had the general consensus DM was BS. Especially in regards to CE. Because DM was the one that first started spreading his super secret GF nonsense back in 2021, right before the introduction of Soba Saga. Her almost nonsensical rants about her having legit sources on this secret GF - while doing weekly podcasts where she insisted she never got any intel on him because his circle was so tight knit (interesting how that suddenly changed out of nowhere when someone showed up) - just made her seem like crazy cat lady gossip conspiracy Marjorie Taylor Greene on steroids.

She was the first to post that "dating Soba for over a year and everyone in PT/her circle knows about it" in early 2022.

They go public in late 2022. 2023 There's some Sunday Spotted (I could be wrong) vDAY post about CE and "fiancé" being seen in town at dinner (sounds very similar to the most recent vDay sighting). That was about 10 months before the super secret wedding and there had been no announcement of being engaged, minus the Tumblr blogs and random third rate tabloids and troll twitter accounts passing on the rumors. DM starts spreading around the same time some Tumblr blogs get the intel about secret engagement, wedding, rift in the family, people on his side not liking Soba, etc. Eventually it is revealed DM was right all along???? In a complete turn of events her credibility goes from zero to 1 (grudgingly of course, while she continues to spill BS daily)

Meanwhile, DM gets the first RPatz sighting with Scarlett and crew at dinner. Nobody believed it - as Nancy mentioned, it just seemed too farfetched with the way that restaurant was set up.

Then in early 2024 we get an actual RPatz sighting with with Soba/CE, and separately, sightings with Scarlett and Colin. Now there's more "credibility" to that random other sighting even if it still can't be proven.

Now...possible project with RPatz and CE's name circulating. Maybe just gossip fodder, maybe some truth to it. Time will tell. Coincidences once again.

DM gets the sighting of CE in LA with Russos. He actually confirms that one himself a month later.

Simultaneously, DM gets random sightings of CE doing other stuff where soba is not mentioned. Nobody knows really what to believe anymore.

But for every 15 BS things she posts, she actually gets 1-2 right. It starts to completely make her a hit or miss source but enough to get people riled up and worried if/when she gets something related to CE/Soba.

In a way, this strategy, if it were to have any salt to it, is kinda interesting. It also sort of enforces the idea of possible foul play. Because if CE is truly in such a happy, private, loveful relationship, why use somebody as uncouth as DM to throw out breadcrumbs? Especially since, in the past, his fanbase and most Tumblr blogs believed it was only legit if it came from someone like People Mag (his team's go-to). Ironically, Page 6 has been getting most of the exclusive scoops this time around, in addition to weird low rate tabloids that eventually make its way to the top.

I know I sound like crazy qanon conspiracy theorist, but I guess people see what they wanna see. But for the people who believe this relationship isn't as genuine as some want to believe, it kind of tracks that somebody's PR team pushing this out in ways to sort of make you wonder, question, and push back on the validity. Just enough to make you think, maybe, maybe there's something going on BTS that they're not saying but they're kinda telling. But you'll never know what the truth is. At least not for now.

I do find DM’s role since 2023 to be very interesting indeed. You missed nothing. Not one thing. She’s made herself be credible enough during this, but also, she’s questionable. So of course, take everything she says with a grain of salt.

I made this comment a bit ago to someone else, he still uses People. Who got the Jinx articles first. Think about that for a moment. He. Just him.

As far as the last paragraph, what I will say is celebrities need to be talked about. Good or bad, they need the press. They need to be in the front of people’s minds. What better way to have them in people’s minds, and to have fans talk about something long past their expiration date than by playing a game. PR has become such a hot topic word, and I think very few people even understand it. But to me, if you’re having to play so many games, what really is real? Live your life. Isn’t that what we continue to be told they’re doing?

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[brayneworms]

love you (just a little too much) | jolyne cujoh

kinktober day seven: praise kink

word count. 4.6k

content. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, smut, praise kink, cheating (jolyne cheats on her boyfriend with reader lol), reader is kind of scummy, obsession, childhood friends, mentions of drinking, gender-neutral reader, implied unrequited love, sub!jolyne + dom!reader, oral sex (f!recieving), pet names (pretty girl, good girl, angel, princess—all used on jolyne)

♩ serial killer - lana del rey

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Contrary to popular belief, Jolyne doesn't mind people knowing she's soft.

The others—particularly the ones she met at the prison, like Ermes and Anasui—think that she tries very hard to maintain a tough reputation, that she puts effort into her hard-as-nails routine that scares off the bad guys. And that's not to say it doesn't, but most people tend to assume that this means she spurns being seen as soft, or compassionate, or even girlish.

But you know better.

I mean, obviously you do. You've been at her side since you were both six years old, meeting on the playground of your relatively shitty elementary school. You remember burning asphalt painted with volleyball-court lines, arches cracked with flecks of black stone. You know every part of her, even the parts she maybe wishes you didn't.

And you've been in love with her for far longer. Longer than that waste of oxygen Romeo, longer than Anasui or Ermes. They can make all the assumptions they want, but you know the truth. Jolyne is soft. And she is sweet, and thoughtful, and loyal, and you know there is nothing she loves more than being reminded of it.

You remember the first time you watched her do her own makeup when you were thirteen years old. Sat in her bedroom, the teal walls and pink carpet, and you were too young and lacked too much taste to feel the nausea that the colours would later induce as your eyes grew more sensitive. You sat cross-legged on her bed as Mariah Carey blasted out from the stereo, watching Jolyne's reflection in the mirror. Her big emerald eyes outlined in messy dark liner, lips outlined in green.

Messy, but she liked it. And she whirled around, brandishing a tube you had no name for.

"Nah," you said flatly. "No way."

"It's just mascara, dummy," Jolyne sighed. "It'll make you look pretty."

"No, it won't."

"It made me look pretty."

"That's 'cause you are, dipshit." You pressed your spine flat against the wall, and as you watched, the skin of her cheeked flushed, soft baby-pink.

"You think?" she whispered, looking shyer than you'd ever seen her, and you felt your heart do something funny.

"Yeah. I mean, don't be weird about it." You bit the inside of your cheek. "Jolyne, you're gorgeous."

She made a strangled, squawking sort of noise and chucked the tube of mascara at you. It bounced off your head as you threw your body to the side to avoid it, and when you looked at her in disbelief, her face was scarlet and blotchy.

"You can't just say things like that," she whined, burying her face in her hands. "Although, feel free to say it again, I guess—"

"Idiot." Your own face burned. "You are not doing my makeup."

That was the start of it, you guess.

The start of looking at her differently, of watching her out of the corner of her eye; putting up her hair into a ponytail, applying lip balm with a careful pinky finger. You've been freinds for so long that you're comfortable changing in front of each other (you used to share baths, for fuck's sake), and suddenly you're seventeen and she's stripping off her shirt right in front of you and it's not innocent anymore. It's something else.

Of course, you're not the only one to notice. The way she sort of... glows when she enters a room. Other people do, and that dipshit Romeo with barely two braincells to rub together between the steroids and the peroxide, he managed to catch her eye. This hulking, seething jock who looked at you like you were a piece of shit under his shoe, who called you weirdo behind Jolyne's back (because he knew he'd catch a fist to the face if he ever did it in front of her).

"I know you want to fuck her," he growled one afternoon, after school, senior year. He crowded you against the wall of the locker room whilst you both waited for Jolyne to change out of her volleyball uniform inside.

"You don't even know what you don't know, you fucking prick," you snarled, staring right up into his eyes. Narrow pupils and bloodshot in the sclera.

"I've seen the way you look at her," he whispered. "You're obsessed with her. And I'm warning you, back off."

"Yeah, big boy?" A smile that was almost hysterical tugged at your lips. "Except you don't really want that. 'Cause you know if I left, she'd go right along with me without even looking at you. You're nothing, and you'll be gone soon, and I'll still be here."

Romeo laughed. "You're fuckin' crazy," he said wonderingly. "Are all Jo's friends this insane?"

"No. Not all of them," you said quietly. "But I am. I'm pretty insane. And you're going to ruin her life. I can fucking feel it. One day you're going to ruin her whole life, and I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"Romeoooo~" The singing voice soared over the thick tension. The two of you barely had time to step apart before Jolyne came sauntering out the locker room, her face alight in a pleased flush. Her eyes widened when she saw you, and she squealed delightedly. "You stayed!"

"I told you I would, dipshit," you said fondly, grinning as she launched at you and pressed a green kiss to your cheek. Over her shoulder, Romeo glowered.

"Wasn't I amazing?" she said cheerily, linking hands with her boyfriend and swinging their joined arms. Her eyes practically sparkled as she stared up at him, lips stretched in a perfect smile.

After a moment, he grunted. "Yeah, babe. Exceptional as always. That's my Jo for you, huh?" A kiss to her temple, and Jolyne squirmed delightedly.

Strictly speaking, you guess—you ruined Romeo's life before he could ruin hers. Not that he knows it. Oh, you want him to know. You want to throw the evidence in his face and make him seethe, all the while knowing there's not a fucking thing he can do about it.

It happens on Jolyne's nineteenth birthday. You hadn't seen much of her in the day, unfortunately—you'd gone for breakfast, which was tradition for the both of you. You drove her to Denny's and your plates were loaded with pancakes, bacon and syrup, drooling sticky piles of sugar that you scooped up eagerly, talking enthusiastically between bites. She was spending most of the day with Romeo—gag—but you'd see her at the party later.

It takes place at your house, actually. Jolyne's mom won't stand for that kind of stuff, and she's gracefully turning the other cheek to the underage drinking because she adores Jolyne. Her dad had sent a card that arrvied two days early, the inscription typically blunt:

Jolyne, Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn't be there. Be responsible and have a good day. Best, Dad.

"Best, Dad," she snorts derisively, tossing the thing dramatically over her shoulder. But she doesn't trash it. She never trashes the stuff from Jotaro. She keeps it all in a silver box under her bed like a shameful secret, and she reads them when she wants to cry but can't get the tears out. "What an asshole."

She goes home for a bit to get ready, and you prep the house for the party. By the time she comes back, hand-in-hand with Romeo, the place is already crowded. Projections of shapes and colours glide lazily over the walls, filming the bassy music that thumps through the mortar.

She looks fucking angelic, weaving her way through the crowds; she gives an excited little skip when she spots you slouched against the wall, halfheartedly entertaining some drunk guy. Jolyne rushes up to you, clasping your hands excitedly in hers.

"This is amazing!" she gushes. "It's all so amazing! Don't you think, Romeo?"

He barely grunts in reply. "Where's the booze?"

Jolyne's smile falters; something hard sets in her jade eyes, the kind of look that has your mouth suddenly dry. "Eh? Why are you being rude?" Her shoulders square, knots of hard muscle. "Y/n put this whole party together for me! This is their house!"

"Yeah, Romeo." An oily smirk slips over your face, unseen to Jolyne. A vein twitches in his temple over his lusterless eyes. "This is my house. How 'bout a little thank you?"

A spasm crosses his ugly face. "Fuck this," he growls, and Jolyne's jaw drops. "I'm sick of this creep trying to make me look bad in front of you. Jo, I'm leaving. Are you coming, or what?"

"You're joking." Jolyne's eyes are round and hard; an angry blush is starting to bleed across her cheekbones. "It's my birthday, Romeo."

"We'll do something," he presses, picking up her small hands hamfistedly; you bite the inside of your cheek at the touch, wondering if he even noticed the nails she got done especially for today, whether he even cared. "C'mon, Jo, I'll take you to dinner. That Italian place."

Jolyne's face screws up. "I don't like Italian food," she says, which is true. She doesn't like cheese or tomatoes much. Her favourite food is dark chocolate, actually, but if you're talking dinner than Thai food is a safe bet. She likes to make out that she can handle more spice than she actually can.

Romeo grows visibly frustrated; you slouch back against the wall, barely blinking, trying to bite back a smirk. "Anything, then. C'mon, Jo, I can't—I won't leave you here with this creep. Can't you see? Can't you fucking see how obsessed they are with you? It's fucking freaky!"

"Get out!" Jolyne screams. "You horrible pig. How dare you talk about them like that?!"

"You're so dumb you can't even see it!" Romeo yells, his voice starting to rise up over the music. Eyes shift, people turn; you can't have that. As much as you enjoy seeing Romeo squirm, this is Jolyne's day, and you won't let some roid-chomping ape ruin it. You slide between them, setting a hand on Romeo's chest and shoving him back—not violently, not really, you can't have Jolyne thinking you're as bad as him—just enough to make some space to breathe.

You're so close to Jolyne, her shoulder touches your back. You can feel her breathing raggedly, taut with fury.

"That's enough," you say, looking Romeo dead in the eye. "I know we don't exactly get along, Romeo, but I was willing to put that aside for Jolyne on her birthday. I'm sorry you weren't."

Romeo's face flushes slowly with purple colour. "You fucking—you—"

"Romeo," Jolyne says harshly. "Leave. I don't want you here."

His jaw clenches. "Fine! Fine. See if I fucking care." He spins on his heel and storms out, and you physically feel the tension in the air thin as the front door slams behind him.

You turn around immediately as everyone else awkwardly buries themselves in cups and conversations again. Jolyne's arms are wrapped around herself, staring at the floor. Genuine sorrow twangs deep inside you—you wonder, hardly for the first time, whether you would be this instigatory if she was with someone who actually deserved her.

A smaller, bitter part of you that you usually try to ignore insists that nobody really deserves her. Not even you. But you'll try your best.

"Hey," you murmur. "You okay?"

"H-how can he be so mean?" Her eyes are big and luminous as she turns them to you, shining with tears. Something deep inside you dies at the sight—Jolyne is rare with her tears. More often her intense emotions manifest as anger. You swallow, glancing around.

"Okay. Come on, let's get out of here," you mutter. You lead her through the crowded hallway and up the stairs, heading for your own room. The music becomes muffled as you shut the door behind you, blaring softly through the floorboards like you've dipped your head underwater. Jolyne sniffles, her eyes already drying; she knuckles at them dispassionately, smearing her carefully-applied eye makeup.

"What a mess... I ruined it all," she says, flopping down on the bed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be stupid, dipshit," you say fiercely. "It's your thickhead boyfriend. God, I can't stand him."

"I know." Jolyne picks miserably at her nails. "Maybe he's not... as perfect as I thought he was. But I love him. I mean, I think I love him? Just not when he's like this."

"He's like this all the time," you deadpan, and Jolyne's lip quivers. You sigh, melting down to sit next to her on the bed.

"I don't know what to do," she sighs. "I thought everything was so perfect, and now..."

"Jolyne." Always her full name. You never presume to shorten it, to chip off even one perfect syllable. Every time Romeo calls her Jo, you feel your bones grate together. Like he can't even be bothered to remember who she is. There are thousands of Jo's. There's only one Jolyne. "You deserve so much better than him."

Her throat flexes when she swallows, glancing up at you between the wisps of her green bangs.

It's funny—you know Jolyne inside and out. Every molecule. And yet you still don't see it coming.

Her lips press against yours for the briefest moment, shy and tentative and they taste like aloe vera. You freeze up completely in shock, not even having the werewithal to blink, and Jolyne rockets back, blushing madly.

She waves her hands frantically. "I—hang on! I'm sorry! I shouldn't... I didn't mean to..." Her voice gears up for a wail. "I'm ruining everythinggg!"

"Jolyne!" You clamp your hands upon her shoulders, your pulse thundering in your ears. "C-calm down. It's okay. You haven't—you haven't ruined anything."

Jolyne's brows draw tight together. "I can't betray Romeo," she says, twiddling her fingers. "But I... I'm so fuckin' sick of feeling like... he never compliments me! Never! And tonight, it was my fucking birthday and he just blew me off! What a pig! I'm so sick of him sometimes, I just want to—to—"

Her soft, cold hands land on your face and she kisses you again, harder this time, with intent, and you feel every cell in your body come alive. You hardly believe it's real, but this time you're not going to waste even a nanosecond not concentrating. Your eyes slip closed and your hands move, dropping from her shoulders; one slides down her arms until it wraps around her waist, drawing her close, feeling her soft, toned body press flush against you. The other cups the back of her neck, cradling her like she's something precious. She is, of course. She's the most precious thing in the whole world.

It's overwhelming; it's everything you've dreamed of for the last six years or so, and even as it's happening it barely feels real. You feel the urgent need to make the most of it before you snap out of this dream, or Jolyne reverts back from the delirium that's cleared seized her. It's your chance, after all—to finally show her what someone like Romeo could never give her.

Your left hand slips unde the hem of her shirt, fanning out over the warm skin beneath, and Jolyne shudders. She pulls back from your lip momentarily, her eyes searching yours so intensely that your heart lurches.

"Isn't this wrong?" she whispers, as though she's truly conflicted.

Your free hand brushes a lock of her from her face. "Does it feel wrong?"

There's a moment of hesitation—you can see her conjure Romeo's face in her mind—and then she shakes her head. "It should feel wrong," she mutters, and your thumb strokes soothingly over the small of her back.

"Jolyne," you murmur, and you watch in shivering euphoria as her body shudders as your voice slips into something lower, rolling over the both of you like hot honey. "Lemme take care of you, okay?"

A painful dark blush melts over Jolyne's pretty cheeks. "This won't ruin anything, will it?" She keeps you pinned for now, not letting you carry on. So bold, your Jolyne. People like Romeo want to stamp it out of her. You can't even imagine it. "I dunno what I'd do without you."

"Jolyne," you groan. "Don't say stuff like that right now."

"Eh? Why?!" Her expression twists. "I'm just trying to make sure—"

"You're kind of having an effect, princess," you grit out. Jolyne stops short, her mouth working soundlessly for a few moments.

"Ha! Am I really?" she gushes, her eyes sparkling. "Let me see!"

"Wh—no!" You swat at her hands, cheeks burning. "Cut it out, dipshit. You'll..." You pause, weighing your words. "You'll see soon enough, anyway."

The smile slips off of Jolyne's face, replaced by nervous anticipation. Your heart beats at the speed of sound, jackrabbiting against your ribcage.

You shake your head, scrub a hand down your face. "Lay down, okay? I said I would take care of you, and I mean it." There's a spot of hesitation on her face before she cautiously scrambles up against the headboard, peering down at you sat at the foot of the bed. You strip off your shoes quickly before clambering on over her, fitting your legs neatly over her waist.

She bites her lip. "Y-you really wanna..."

In answer, you lean forward and tuck your face against her neck, breathing in her perfume. She shivers as you nose at the delicate skin, finally putting your lips on it like you've dreamed of doing, and she's just as receptive as you've always thought she might be, letting out a squeak before her head tilts up, baring her throat to you.

"So cute," you whisper, running your hands up her sides. She's small, but so toned—she works out a lot, and it's a unique kind of torture seeing her in gym clothes, all sweaty with her hair pinned up, heading for the shower. "God, you drive me fucking crazy."

"I—I do?" Her breath is caught, trapped. Her hands push under your clothes and skim over the flesh there, cool and clammy, and you shudder so violently that you inadvertently press yourself against her.

"You have no idea." You mouth at her neck almost frantically, sucking skin between your teeth, laving with your tongue, pinching lightly with your teeth before moving onto the next; dotting lines down her neck, collarbones, putting your teeth over the jut of bone and sucking. Jolyne moans, high and shivery, and the sound makes liquid lightning rush to the place between your thighs.

You curse your own impatience, too hurried to savour her like you really want. You reason that you'll have time, after, later, some indeterminable point in the future as you reach down and hike up her shirt, over her head, flinging it to some distant point in the room. Jolyne stares up at you, unabashed; why would she be? You know every inch of each other's bodies already. You smooth a palm from her sternum to the waistline of her jeans, through the valley between her breasts, and Jolyne groans, eyes fluttering shut. You can see the smokey green makeup painted over her lids, the clumps of mascara caught in the delicate lashes.

The flesh beneath your hand is soft, warm muscle. You happily think that she could break you apart if she wanted—but that's the really incredible thing about your Jolyne. She doesn't. She is capable of great violence, but it's never what she wants to do.

She's so, so special.

"You're so beautiful," you sigh; your pupils are probably heart-shaped by this point. "Oh, god—princess, you have no idea how bad I want you."

Jolyne shudders, pushing her hips up against you and you nearly choke. "Show me," she grunts, a challenge in her eyes. "Show me—please."

"'Course, pretty girl," you murmur, watching the flush climbs down her chest. "Anything for you."

Your hands move to the front of her jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper before you drag them down her thighs. Jolyne perks up and helps you shed them, and they too disappear into the nameless void, where everything but Jolyne ceases to matter even an iota.

Next goes her underwear; she wears boxers a lot, and today is no exception. Emerald-green briefs that you drag down her legs so clumsily that they end up dangling from one ankle. Jolyne sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, face lit up bright red as she watches you knead the flesh on her knees, her thighs. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, the heat in your abdomen almost unbearable—but you can't even think of touching yourself. This isn't about you.

It's all about her.

You push her thighs apart, gently, and only now does some tension coil up in Jolyne's stomach, her breath shaking.

"It's okay," you remind her softly, and press soft kisses to her right knee. "It's me, yeah? You have nothing in the world to hide from me."

Jolyne's whole expression seems to melt into something dreamy, like she's home, and you could weep. A soft smile plucks at her mouth.

"You're right," she says, swallowing hard.

"'Course I am, pretty girl," you say lazily, skimming your lips against her inner thigh, a hint of teeth just to hear her gasp. "'Cause I know you, yeah? Better than anyone."

"Y-yeah," Jolyne whimpers, and your eyes practically roll back into your head at how wrecked she sounds already.

You prop your face on her inner thigh, gazing up at her dreamily. "Want me to make you feel good, angel?"

"W-well, obviously," she grunts, squirming her hips. You use your free hand to pin her down.

"Say it," you can't help but poke, watching as her blush darkens. "Say, I want you to make me feel good."

Jolyne glowers. "Eh... you're the worst kind of pervert, aren't you? How didn't I guess..." She throws an arm over her eyes. "I want you to make me feel good. Dummy."

Something intense and hot rolls over you as the words leave her mouth, and without another moment of hesitation you grab her leg, wrapping your fingers around one slim ankle and pulling it up so it bends. "Can you hold that there for me?"

Wide eyed and mouth agape, Jolyene reaches for her own leg to hold up, fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs.

"What a good girl," you murmur, and Jolyne squeaks again; her fingers dig into the fat of her own leg, and she stares at you like she's hardly seen you before. There's something gratifying in that disbelief; proof that you're not the awkward thirteen-year-old you've feared she's always seen as you as. You're her equal, her soulmate, and you're both all grown up, now.

Some more than others.

You press your lips to her cunt and she moans, fingers scrabbling desperately to retain a hold of her leg. There's a soft dark thatch of hair that tickles just slightly as you shuffle down between her legs, using your fingers to spread her open. She's wet, and your mouth fills with saliva as you dive in, burying your head between her thighs. With her free hand, you hear her clap her fingers over her mouth to stifle the shriek she lets out at the contact.

The moment your tongue makes contact you know you're lost. Your eyes slide shut as your mouth works at her, feeling her hands slide into your hair and grip, hard, hard enough to remember that it's real. And that notion sends a whole new delirium rushing through you, until you feel literally high, drunk on Jolyne, your perfect girl and her perfect body. She tastes so good, practically addictive, and when her thighs tremble and squeeze around your head you think there would be no better way to die in the world.

She's saying something—choked, hoarse gasps of your name. You pop off her clit with a lingering suck, gazing up at her with a smile you can't quite remember to dial back. Jolyne's pupils are blown wide and dark, barely a ring of green surrounding them.

"It—it's so..." She squirms. "Please keep going."

"No worries on that front, angel," you murmur, sliding your hands under her thighs and pulling her even closer. "I'm gonna make you come for me, yeah?"

A hard shudder wracks her body. She never—it's so strange to hear such filth spill from your lips so easily. You're barely comparable to the friend she's known almost her whole life.

And yet—you are. This could be nobody but you. She doesn't know how she didn't see it before.

You dive back between her legs with unparalleled vigour, and Jolyne's head spins frantically. She's never felt anything like this. Romeo went down on her once in a blue moon, and before that had only been awkward teenage fumblings, sticky and awkward, never this—this worship. It's honestly the best word she can come up with for it. You look like if someone tried to pry you away from her right now you'd kill them without a thought.

The thought shouldn't make her shiver in pleased delight—and yet here we are.

Your tongue rolls over her clit, glides between her folds, presses in, and loops all over again until her hands are fisted in your hair and she's crying out against the muted blaring of the music.

"Fuck, fuck," she curses, blinking hard to try and stay focused. "Gonna come, I'm gonna c-come—"

"I got you," you moan against her, the vibrations sending a whole new set of jitters up her spine. "My girl, my good girl, c'mon, give it to me, I need it, fuck, I need you to come for me—"

Your lips latch onto her clit and suck once, harshly, and Jolyne comes so hard she feels her body separate from herself. Seeing stars has always felt like a dumb expression, but she swears white rockets across her vision, tears it open to perfect clarity. Her thighs clamp down on your head, hips rocking up against you as she shudders and moans through it, and all the while you keep your fingers on her, stroking slow and soft until she twitches from overstimulation. Her foot kicks out on instinct, catching on your shoulder.

She comes back to herself when she hears you wince. "Sorry," she says hoarsely. You just roll your eyes fondly and tap her ankle away.

You flop against her as she attempts to pick her breath back up. She can feel her own release dripping down her thighs and she looks at you, unexpectedly shy. It's surreal, but—but even as reality sets in cold as stone, she cannot quite bring herself to feel guilty.

You press a lazy kiss to the size of her bared breast, making her flinch in surprise. "Heh. You animal."

"Yeah," you agree readily, your voice hoarse with want. "For you, yeah."

Jolyne's eyes flutter. She doesn't quite know what to say to that, to any of this. Instead she swallows, looks around to try and get her surroundings. Your bedroom is intimately familiar—the dark walls, the posters, the fishtank and blinds and assortment of blue stringlights and lamps. Your room has always kinda felt like being inside an aquarium.

A lump settles in her throat. She's grown up here. You both had.

And though she knows she should get dressed and find her phone, although she knows she should call Romeo and try to cover up the hickies dotted haphazardly all over her throat, she can't quite bring herself to do it. Any of it. Because you'd made her feel more loved in twenty minutes than Romeo had in months.

So she curls back up next to you, jamming her head aginst your heart. She feels your breath hitch at the contact and squirms delightedly.

"J-Jolyne?" you say weakly.

"Shut up, dummy," she says as matter-of-factly as she can manage. "I wanna sleep."

"...Okay, angel." Your voice is soft, soothing. "Anything for you."

[iheartcabbyiii]

I didn't want to make this post, and I still don't, but I don't think I can keep my silence on the situation for any longer. I've only told a few people about this, so I'm here now, telling all of you about what happened.

"The Henry Stickmin Artist Community" discord server is a server I am currently in; you may be too, you may not. If so, you also might know the owner, Stick, aka Suppishstick on discord. I definitely do. My experience with them was not a good one, and I'll be sharing my experience with them in this post.

1: Starting off.

How we met:

A few months ago, I joined a THSC community based server along with another close friend of mine, looking to communicate with some other THSC fans outside of twitter (only platform I posted on back then). However, I didn't start talking until a few months afterwards. Once I had started talking, I had gotten to know a few of the people there; one of them being Stick. They didn't talk much, but the first interaction we ever had (I believe) was when I was talking about an artist I disliked (this artist was fairly controversial for their predatorial creations and actions, btw).

When I explained what they did to Stick since they wanted to know, we just talked about how disgusting that behavior is, and so on. Conversation ends.

How it started:

However, a few hours afterwards, they'd started dming me with random shit. It wasn't wrong, it just felt a little weird because I didn't expect to be dmed after our previous conversation was already done and over with: also because we didn't know each other. There wasn't anything wrong with just talking, so I went along with it.

One day, he suddenly said that he was thinking of making me and my friend mods. However, he said it like if he made me a mod, he'd have to make them a mod too. Despite this, I was extremely happy. I don't know WHY I wanted mod perms, but overall you can't really do anything other than ban and kick people; can't even invite a bot to the server. It wasn't worth it, but now I see why he made me AND my friend both mods. (This will come up again.)

3:

Then, the more they talked, the topic became based on serious topics, their IRL life, and their problems. (I'm going to be very vague with their problems they had for privacy reasons.) It started off with them talking about having a crush on their friend, and it basically backfiring on them.

This is basically what started it.

From then on, they began to vent in my dms almost daily about any feeling they had, and I would reply every time, despite being uncomfortable yet not having the guts to tell them to stop.

He went from that, to talking about how he wanted to bleach his skin, which is OBVIOUSLY harmful. His reasoning was that he would maybe get a girlfriend because he would be white, and saying that he should do what MJ (Michael Jackson) did, which is also untrue. Besides that, when he said this, I felt extremely uncomfortable with what he said he was going to do just for people to like him, since I didn't want him to harm himself. I wouldn't want ANYONE to do this just so they could be liked by other people. (As well as me telling him another time, not to vent in my DMS.)

Then, afterwards, they had started venting in my dms without permission again. This screenshot one of the various times I'd told him not to vent w/o perms.

All he talked about was the situation with his friend, and everything that was going on in his life. However, then he started talking about using steroids and harming himself. (I may come off as dry in these texts because as I stated, I was uncomfortable.)

I didn't know how to react when I saw these messages. I didn't know if I were to comfort him, discourage those actions, or just not reply in general.

When he said he didn't vent in DMS anymore, which was pretty much just contradicting himself, I pointed it out that he had been doing that for weeks.

His motive for doing most of these things was to make people like him. And I understand that you might not be liked by too many people, but harming yourself and your health to fit in is not the way to go.

He argued that it wasn't "angry or suicidal stuff", so I guess it ... Wasn't venting??? (SS of convo down below)

3:

I'd also like to talk about the typa shit he'd talk about when he wasn't venting to me. Most of this stuff was stuff I didn't know (or really care, I'm sorry to say it,,) about.

A few of the things he sent stuck out to me, specifically because it was NSFW content.

One of these examples was a newgrounds animation. Why was I trusting anything they sent that was from newgrounds? Because I didn't want to just not acknowledge the shit he was talking about.

This animation, however, was a video of a fucking Creeper getting assaulted.

I did not request to see the animation, all I said was that I hadn't seen it, yet he still sent the link.

The image of the video is blurred because it contains slight gore, and I'm not taking my chances,,,

Yeah, some people might be able to handle it, but like, if someone doesn't ask for a NSFW link, YOU DONT SEND IT!!!

Now, here's my message I sent after I didn't want this to go on any longer. I sent this message to request that he stop talking in my dms in the politest way I could. Although, this is the response I got.

Yes, he did apologize for saying it like that, but it didn't feel as if he really meant it.

If he had problems, I wanted him to seek help for them, and not tell someone on the Internet who he didn't know basically every thought he had.

I wasn't comfortable from the start.

Before I start my conclusion on this, I'd like to mention the time he promoted his rants,...,, To be specific, he sent a message in the main chat of the server, saying, "check rant, it's bad."

Not only did he say this in the server, he also sent it in my dms as well. (I cannot provide any more pictures because I've reached the limit of images tumblr will allow me to add, but if anyone would like to see them, I can show the messages he sent.)

If Stick sees this, I will not argue with him about this. If he bans me from the server, that's fine. I still believe what he did was wrong.

[lukesaprince]

https://www.tumblr.com/lukesaprince/760333452093603840/guys-i-just-had-the-best-first-hookup-of-my-life

Did you go all the way?

Wait Omggg give us the teaaa (only if you want ofc)

I didn't!! I'd love to tell every single detail because there were just so many hot moments and good moments I could write an entire fic about it but I'll give a good summary of the highlights HAHAH.

This has decent detail below so if you’re not interested or don’t want to know just warning youuuu. He also knows I’m spilling what happened lol

For some context we started speaking Friday night and then went out for drinks Saturday which was VERY spontaneous of me like I've never done that before but I just had a good feeling about him. Last week I nearly went out with this other guy and didn't go because I just felt so sick like my body knew something was wrong before even meeting him. I didn't feel that at all with this guy so I was like yolo

I'm going to try and keep this as short as possible haha but before meeting up I kinda said that I wasn't very experienced. The app we met on is like tinder on steroids and very sex/kink based like it's used a lot by the kink community and those in open relationships or whatever (which I had no idea about before joining lol) so his bio was very open about him being an experienced dom.

When we met for drinks we had a really good chat! Started off with basic first date things and then it went into a more sex based conversation. It was a really good open, honest back and forward conversation about our experiences and what we want. I was very open about all my past issues and my inexperience and my anxiety and he was just so good about everything.

After a lot of back and forth and flirting hehe we decided to go back to his place. He walked me to my car and we exchange instas and he sends me his address. Then all of a sudden he grabs me by my neck and pulls me in for a kiss but stopped with like an inch gap between us and I was so confused and kind of laughed and then he deadass whispers 'say please' and I wanted to die then and there. 😭

Before we did anything we just kissed a lot and he gave me complete control over what we were going to do. It was all up to me and what I was comfortable with which I really liked and then from there he took control.

Before going down on me he really took his time kissing me and touching me and he was so hot like he was just touching my clit a little and asked if I had any toys like a dildo and I said I did but I get bored using it HAHA. THEN he had the fucking audacity to ask if I knew where my g-spot was and I unfortunately have short fingers so I do not and he goes ‘it’s right here’ and deadass right on here he pressed right against my g-spot with his finger I thought I was going to DIE. Definitely wasn’t bored after that let me say that haha.

So then he starts going down on me and is using his fingers and it was really good like he knew what he was doing. It was a weird feeling going from my vibrator to something softer and for a second I thought I wouldn’t cum because it felt good but different and more internally than on my clit? Idk if that makes sense. Anyway it felt really good and all of a sudden he stops and he’s like ‘wait’ so he gets up to get a towel and then comes back and guys he made me squirt I was SHOCKED. that’s why it felt different because it was a completely different orgasm I was like woah

Anyway HAHA he comes back up to lay with me and he asked me if I was okay and if it was okay and I was like yeah… and so he says ‘I bet I can make you squirt again’ and I doubted him fr I was like ‘the second orgasm is always slower’ THEN HE GOES ‘I bet I can even count down’ guys I fucking died you don’t understand. Anyway he made me squirt again in like two seconds and yeah 😶‍🌫️ and somewhere in there he spanked me right on my clit and ugh

After that I started to go down on him and I loved it like genuinely I loved every second. He was guiding me a lot and talking me through all of it which was so hot and helpful because I had no idea what I was doing. I started between his legs on the bed and then we kept switching positions so I could get a feel of different things. My mouth was so dry though so we had to use lube but genuinely I couldn’t get saliva in my mouth. He kept fucking my mouth a bit which was hot and kind of helped because I was gagging on him but we still needed the lube which was so fine and no big deal at all. At one point he just grabbed my hair and spat into my mouth too 😭😭

We did 69 for a bit with me on top 😶‍🌫️ and then I laid at the end of the bed with my head hanging off and he fucked my mouth 😭😭 AND part way through he pulled me up by my hair and kissed me like he didn’t give a fuck his dick was just in my mouth.

Then I got on my knees on the floor and I think that was my favourite because I loved when he looked down at me 😭😭😭😭 he was just guiding me and tugging on my hair when I asked him to. He ended up grabbing a riding crop he had and spanked me a bit while I was down there which I loved too. I pretty much love everything lol.

He was saying the dirtiest things too like he was praising me and guiding me 😭😭

Then we got back up onto the bed because I wanted to make him cum and he was explaining exactly how to do it and deadass with his cock in my mouth goes something like ‘your mouth is so good are you sure you’re not lying’ like about not giving a bj before and I DIED!!! I felt like the hottest person alive in that moment I was having the time of my life.

Once it was all over we cuddled a lot and had a debrief about everything and just random chats too. We probably spent a good half an hour just laying on his bed then sitting on his couch talking about it all and what I liked and thought about everything. He was so good at making me feel safe and comfortable and he kept joking about my fics and including details from our night in there and ugh.

He walked me to my car and kissed me goodnight and we both kind of hinted at seeing each other again so I really hope we do. We’ve been texting a bit since so fingers crossed I can see him again because I honestly just want to try everything and I feel like he’s a good person to do that with. I don’t want to get too attached but I already don’t want to go back on the dating app because I want to see him again but yeah that’s it

I genuinely can’t get over how safe and comfortable I felt the entire time like I didn’t think about what I looked like once I was just having fun and loving every second of it. I think for my first experience it couldn’t have been more perfect 😭

If you’ve made it this far thanks for being nosy I guess I hope you enjoyed the story HAHAHA

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! It's weird question time again! So that doctor I mentioned before that I wanted to make a dog plushie for because he has improved my quality of life so much* (and also inexplicably reminds me of like a greyhound or a borzoi) is my endocrinologist And, as my endocrinologist, he recommended back in December that I go see a rheumatologist, because he thinks I might have rheumatoid arthritis**. The staff at his office have been trying to get a rheumatologist for four months now. I know that, because yesterday I got a call from the rheumatologist's office and the nurse I spoke to said "Your doctor's office has been very...persistent about getting you this appointment" So now I kinda want to get something for the whole office? But idk what I could get them or make them. Like, in non-medical contexts I'd make cookies or brownies for a group, but I can't bring cookies to a doctor's office. I mean, I guess I could, but if I were them I would definitely not eat them, and I run the risk of allergy-ing a fellow patient. Is there like a gift basket or gift card or thank you card or something you can recommend?

*I mean he maybe should have found a diagnosis before offering me steroids about it but the low dose steroids have made such a HUGE difference in my quality of life I am thrilled with Tennessee's weird (to me, with my experience in California) medical practices **I don't think I have enough joint pain for it to be rheumatoid arthritis, but he's like the fourth doctor to tell me it's weird that when I got hives they usually started on joints, so maybe I'm wrong? I have the weird version of enough medical things that at this point I would not be surprised if I had Weird Rheumatoid Arthritis.

[shadesofmauve]

Colors!

My thumb's been fucked up by a steroid shot to the point where I can't hold a pen to draw, but the light touch of a watercolor brush is mostly okay, and I had dot cards for Daniel Smith and DaVinci paints, so I've spent the last few weeks unleashing my manic color goblin.

Friends, I've painted so many happy little rectangles. And it has been a journey.

I've found that one of the most-referenced sources for pigment lightfastness is a hard-coded website straight out of the 90s that also talks about UFOs and human evolution. (I don't know what the guy says about human evolution, because I'm afraid to find out, but it makes me very happy that a site like that still exists).

I've learned you can make lovely purples with a cool red and phthalo green, which actually MAKES SENSE, I GUESS, but is still a bit weird and awesome even though I understand the color theory.

I've painted with the Danger Colors.

(Cobalt, manganese, chromium, and cadmium. DO NOT LICK).

I've finally spelled phthalo often enough that I can remember it!

And I've fallen deeply, desperately in love, then had my heart broken.

It's name was DaVinci Phthalo Turquoise (pigment code PB16). When I painted it out it was beautiful; smoothly flowing into a perfect fade, the deepest, most inviting pool of cool, saturated perfect teal. I burst into song. A choir of angels descended to sing backup vocals. I never used to believe in love at first sight, but I was wrong.

...then it dried.

It dulled so much. It was still fine. Nothing special, but fine. Whatever. I'm over it. I am a strong, independent artist. I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.

There's still all the other colors. Colors that didn't betray me. Much.

Here, Monkey is helping model the last swatch tests, which helped me choose which cool red to buy. The phone doesn't capture all the nuance, but they also started out fairly close. (I went with column 3, DaVinci's PV19 quinacridone rose madder).

So... if you're one of those tenacious, patient people who follows my fic, and you've been wondering why I haven't posted, I suppose I really just have one thing to say:

Colors go brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.