#this is a memory that exists in my head that never happened
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My Headcanons about
Jack Marston
(Post RDR1)
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𐚁
Jack Marston spends years wandering with no real purpose. He drinks to forget, but it only makes the memories louder. Whiskey burns, but not as much as the ghosts in his head. He sees John in the bottom of every bottle, Abigail in the morning light that filters through the saloon window, Uncle in the ache in his bones. He drinks anyway.
𐚁
The West is dying, and he’s dying with it. Horses are slowly replaced by cars, dirt roads by pavement, outlaws by men in suits with pens that kill faster than bullets. The land that raised him has no place for him anymore.
𐚁
“You're John Marston's boy, ain'tcha?” He hears it in every town, every bar, every two-bit gambler who thinks they know his story. He stops correcting them. Maybe it’s easier that way. Maybe Jack Marston doesn’t exist anymore—maybe he never did.
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He tells himself he doesn’t care. That he never cared. That revenge didn’t leave him hollow, that his father’s last words don’t echo in his head. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, son. Jack laughs about that sometimes.
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His mother’s grave is the only place he visits every year. Rain or shine, he sits there and talks to her. Sometimes he's drunk, sometimes he's sober, but he always asks if she’s disappointed in him.
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He never stays anywhere too long. Towns blur together, faces fade. He learns to keep his heart locked away—attachments are just another thing to lose.
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But then, something happens. Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t flinch at his name. Maybe it’s the way a horse still feels more like home than any house ever could. Maybe it’s just waking up one morning and realizing he’s still here, still breathing.
𐚁
Jack tries. He’s still bitter, still mean, still has blood on his hands. But he stops running. He lets himself have something—someone—worth staying for.
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Jack gets old. He wakes up one day and realizes he survived where none of them did. And maybe, just maybe, that means something.
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And so he writes. He writes it all—the fall of the Van der Linde gang, his father’s last ride, the blood, the dust, the ghosts that never quite let go. He calls it “Red Dead”.
𐚁
Maybe no one will read it. Maybe no one will care. But at least, for once, the story is told by someone who lived it.
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Here's some angsty headcanons I wanted to make for quite some time :'
core and sunset dividers made by @deltamel !
→ Check 𐚁 mel's graphics for more!
#rdr2 community#red dead redemption two#rdr2#red dead redemption community#rdr1 jack#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 1#rdr1#jack marston#john marston#jack marston rdr1#john marston rdr1#rdr headcanons#rdr2 headcanons#jack marston headcanons#gta 5#gta v#easter egg#jack needs more love ❤️#headcanons
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Not sure if you're still active but do you happen to know any fic featuring an older time traveling Keith and a younger Shiro? I have a hankering :3
Yes, there's a bunch!
Equalize - stardropdream
11k. Teen.
Shiro watches as Keith (Keith, different, with long hair in a braid, broader shoulders, and older face) looks around the room wildly, trying to place where he is. Then he closes his eyes and laughs, a soft, disbelieving chuckle. Shiro watches the tension ease from Keith’s shoulders. “Right,” Keith whispers. “I remember this now.” Or: Keith from the future ends up in the present. Shiro copes the only way he knows how-- by squashing all his feelings back down again.
you can always find me here (the coming home remix) - perfectlyrose
7k. General.
Keith continues to watch himself fade and flicker. He’s staring straight at Pidge’s terrified face watching her form words that he can’t hear when he blinks out of existence. There’s a long moment of darkness, endless and complete, before he fades back into physical existence. He blinks into the dim light and recognizes the dull metal walls and purple glow in an instant, stomach sinking to his feet. Just his luck that the failed wormhole transported him straight into a cell on a Galra cruiser. A quintessence experiment gone wrong sends Keith skipping backwards through time, back to a Shiro he hasn't seen in years, and one he's never seen. Keith just wants to get back to his Shiro and his time.
Up and Down Memory Lane - SaltiSnacks
8k. Mature. Contains: Shiro/Curtis, Keith/OMC
A time-traveling Keith is on board the Atlas. Shiro overhears a conversation. The house of cards crumbles.
Yesterday, We Begin - arcadenemesis
13k. Explicit.
"Where did you come from?" Keith huffs a laugh. "A long, long way from here," he says, plucking the cherry from his glass. Shiro's eyes follow it all the way to his lips, and Keith watches his throat bob when he bites down and plucks the stem. It's an evasive answer, but if Shiro had any follow-up questions, Keith thinks they're long gone. "Do you want that?" he asks when the silence drags, gesturing at Shiro's cherry. It seems to snap him out of his trance. "N-no! You can take it," Shiro stammers, pushing the glass toward him. "Please."
A mission takes Keith back in time, and leads him straight to Shiro.
Stars Fading - zjofierose
2k. Teen.
Keith knows where to go because Shiro had told him, knows the little house by sight from the many pictures Shiro would scroll through when he was feeling melancholy or nostalgic. He’s been waiting for this chance his whole life, wondering when the moment would come - the second his ship breaks orbit above Earth while simultaneously displaying a date in the past, Keith knows: it’s time.
twenty-thousand leagues above the ocean - ErinNovelist
8k. Teen.
“Please,” he begs, glancing up at Keith again, heart throbbing against his ribs. Bare bones are the only thing stopping him from throwing himself at the man he’s known forever. “Just tell me who you are.” Keith looks up at the silver sky, at the worn jacket Shiro clenches close, at the shaky hands shoved into deep pockets to keep warm. “My name is Keith, and I know that doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but someday you’re going to be someone very important to me.” He sighs and tightens his grip on Shiro’s shoulder, leather soft beneath his fingertips. “You already are, and you’re the only reason I’m not lost right now.” “I don’t understand,” Shiro tells him because he doesn’t know what else to say. Keith only cocks his head and smiles. “I’m lost in time, Shiro. And… well, you’ve always been my guiding light, I guess.”
Life We Chose - stardropdream
3k. General.
Not too far out from the Kerberos launch, Shiro finds an unexpected guest waiting outside his quarters, both familiar and unfamiliar.
Stuck in Gravity - stardropdream
11k. Explicit. Contains: Keith/Keith/Shiro
Keith thinks that everyone should be a little more concerned about this supposed "future" him. He's just not buying that any version of himself could be so confident, so happy... so clearly loved. (Or: the "I had to go back in time to teach my younger self that he's worthy of love" time-travel threesome.)
Only an Echo - stardropdream
10k. Explicit. Contains: Shiro/Shiro/Keith/Keith
Shiro should have guessed that things were about to get weird when a wormhole opens up in his bedroom and out step the future versions of Shiro and Keith. “Right,” the older Keith says, smiling a little. “Well. There’s no easy way to explain it.” “We’re—” the other Shiro begins. “— here to fuck you,” the other Keith cuts off. “Not quite how I’d phrase it, baby.”
Or: Recently married Shiro and Keith decide that the best wedding present they can give each other is "let's go back in time and fuck our past selves." So they do.
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dnf visiting each others animal crossing islands and just chasing each other around with nets and axes for 2 hours straight laughing the whole time doing weird emotes at each other
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Watching the Husbands of River Song with my parents
Dad: I don't get it, why does River not have Capaldi's picture?
Me: Well, Time Lords generally only have a set number of regenerations, so she thought Eleven was the last one. But then some... some...
My brain: *Speedruns the Time of the Doctor and the crack*
My brain: *Speedruns the Timeless Child*
My brain: *Speedruns the forced regeneration into the Master and back into Thirteen*
My brain: *Speedruns Fourteen and Fifteen's bi-generation*
Dad: ...Some?...
Me: Some... stuff... happened... Point is, he has more regenerations than she knows about.
Dad: Ok.
My brain: * Still stuck on "Kidneys! I don't like the color." *
#i really went through 10 years of doctor who in a second and my head HURT#doctor who#the husbands of river song#river song#twelfth doctor#honestly in that moment i mostly forgot about the bi-generation. i've blocked fourteen's existence from my memory.#and i had NO way of trying to articulate it to my dad who just casually watches random episodes with me and mom#SOMEHOW. HE'D NEVER SEEN ANY RIVER EPISODES. i don't know how that happened.#my mom after the episode wanted to immediately go back to Silence in the Library and i'm like mom no it's 11pm#maybe some other time we'll make him watch it. very funny for him to literally see river's last episode and then her first#but timeline wise he'd be in the correct order and the show itself was not#i tried to explain this to him. and my mom was like 'she was in the astronaut episodes' and i say 'he didn't watch those.'#and mom was like 'WHAT? he had to have!' and i say 'nope. shh. so basically River meets the Doctor out of order...'#basically my dad really loved River herself and was confused but overall enjoyed the episode#and i had to be like 'look those of us who lived through the 7 years of backstory were DEVASTATED but also happy'
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i think my brain should be studied i'm being fr
#surely this isn't normal#my dreams are like a portal to another life#sometimes i dream about the next day in advance#like with full details. and i often plan lessons in my sleep#sometimes i dream up entire stories with full fledged characters and backstories and intricate plot points etc#last night i dreamt up not just one but about ten such episodes#in the same night i also dreamt that i started taking T and had sex with a random girl and then had. a kinky adventure with dean winchester#(i love being ace about also this dream sex was pretty nice!)#i'm not gonna tell all the stories bc we would be here all day but#there were a Lot of different stories in my dream#full stories that all felt like they happened over the course of days or weeks or months or years in some cases#god i met so many different people in one night and they don't even exist#how i am expected to function properly when my head is so full of memories from lives i never lived but also kind of did#i feel like there's a hundred different universes in my memories and they're all from dreams but they all feel super real#like oh yeah remember that time i was part of a forest dwelling society that started gaining powers and we all thought they were#evil powers but it turns out the forest had given us the ability to communicate with it and to fly and to heal#or oh yeah i traveled the world once and then on my way back i had to cheat customs that wanted to charge me an exorbitant amount of money#for my luggage#by jumping down the luggage slide and travelling with the luggage#or oh yeah i was on T once and actually lost my T pills in a swamp but i dug around and ended up finding them#and i started to grow facial hair after like a week#like stoooop that's too many lives to live#every single night i go through another portal and live a whole ass life#rain.stuff#rain.dreams
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have realized the way my sister talks to me is a trauma trigger and I can't escape it because no matter what I do she still talks to me that way and i've told her to stop because I hate it and it makes me feel horrible so please try to talk to me differently. but she just rolls her eyes and continues to say worse things. she gets to live her best life and be happy because the way she treats me doesn't affect her at all, while I have to spend the next week with trauma related flashbacks and rumination and feeling like shit against my will. and she doesn't care. it's my problem that she's my problem! she doesn't need to take responsibility for anything! she grew up being taught she's invincible and can treat me like shit and never get punished. she learned to fake cry and get me in trouble. no one believes me or cares. i'm the bad kid and she's a perfect angel. because of that, my parents don't care and tell me to "ignore/get over it"
IF CURING TRAUMA WAS EASY AS DECIDING TO GET OVER IT– 😒
#its nice when shes not here. i can leave my room and do stuff without being insulted for every little thing#as soon as she comes home she has to made rude and nasty comments about my entire existence every chance she gets#NO ONE IN THIS HOUSE TAKES MY TRAUMA OR MENTAL HEALTH SERIOUSLY. IM JUST A USELESS BURDEN TO THEM. A PUNCHING BAG#BUT I HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO GO. NO ONE WANTS ME. NO ONE WILL HELP ME. IM STUCK HERE. I DON'T HAVE ABILITY TO LEAVE AND BE ALONE#theres no “one day it will get better” when you have no ability to make your situation better so please for the love of gods dont say it#lee rants#ALL I WANT IS FOR MY MOM OR SOMEONE TO TELL HER TO STOP SPEAKING TO ME IN SUCH A RUDE AND ARROGANT WAY#but my mom never stands up for me. never did. always told people she knows im a horrible kid. always yelled at me for other people's crimes#ugh no one ever stands up for me and i cant stand up for myself because no one cares or takes me seriously. it feels so horrible#theres nothing i can do about it. sometimes it makes me want to use violence because a punch speaks louder than my strangled words#no one ever takes seriously the melting down autistic. if you say they caused a meltdown they will act innocent. blame you for being monster#ugh exhasuting. how to stop trauma from triggering over and over and over and causing sleepless nights and nightmares#why does sometimes the dissociation veil come off and trauma spirals happen. how to dissociate on command!!!!!#whys thr dissociation head gremlin that usually holds the traumatic memories and keeps them hidden not here right now 😭😭😭
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𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʙꜱᴄᴇɴᴇʟʏ ʜᴏᴛ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ꜱʟᴀꜱʜ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ, ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴊᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ?
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14ᴋ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʟᴏᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ꜱᴇx, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ꜰ. ʀᴇᴄɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ)
ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜰᴜʟʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴɪɴᴇ ʏᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜᴄʜ, ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ʟᴏʟ ɪ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ɪꜱ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛᴇʟʏ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ!<3
—
You couldn’t contain the maniacal laughter that escaped your throat as Wonwoo choked on his drink, a coughing fit erupting as he reached for the closest napkin he could find.
“I’m sorry… what did you just say?” He held his forearm to his mouth, desperately trying to contain any remaining coughs still threatening to escape.
“You heard me.” You leaned back against the foot of the couch, your legs sitting criss cross on the floor while you knocked your head back to take another shot. You giggled afterwards, wiping any leftover soju from your lips. “No man has ever made me come. Not even Si-woo.”
It was an embarrassing thing to bring up in retrospect, especially to your roommate of three years who up until now you’d only ever sparingly told the details of your intimate life to. But who the hell even cared about pride anymore?
Certainly not you… and certainly not the copious amount of alcohol currently traversing your system.
“But… you two were together for so long?” The confused expression on Wonwoo's face was downright adorable, and the subconscious urge to pinch his cheek was immediately pushed down.
“All relationships take sacrifice, mine just so happened to be any chance of ever achieving orgasm.” You cringed outwardly as you thought back to a particularly tough memory. “I remember one time he rubbed my inner thigh for like fifteen minutes thinking it was my—“
“STOP!” He croaked out, cheeks flushing brightly as you released a loud cackle, your eyes tearing up at your precious best friend.
You and Wonwoo had first properly met at the start of college, which was baffling considering you both had gone to the same highschool for four years without uttering so much as a single word to one another. It wasn’t to say you'd been completely blind to his existence that entire time, he had just always been much more reserved and quiet back then.
Not to mention way too handsome for you to even think about approaching.
If anything, the only people he ever really spoke with was your current mutual group of friends. You remembered meeting Seungkwan junior year, but it wasn’t until you were actually partnered as lab buddies in college that you’d grown close enough to get invited over for a pool party at his friend Soonyoungs place. Kwan had been in the middle of introducing you to Jihoon when a few people shouting from across the yard had stolen your attention, you could hardly recognize the goofy grinned boy who was getting flicked after losing a punishment game to be the same shy Wonwoo whom you’d only ever snuck spare glances at for the past four years.
The first thing you noticed was just how effortlessly funny he secretly was. Never in your life would you have guessed that Wonwoo, who only a few years prior refused to even make eye contact as you borrowed his pen, would’ve been right in front of you borderline screaming his lungs out into a karaoke machine. You and everyone else couldn’t breathe laughing as he strained to sing as high as his uncharacteristically deep voice could manage, all in an attempt to beat Soonyoung's high score. The entire night he continued to crack the most absurd one liners, which somehow felt even funnier because of just how impassive he usually was at school. You couldn’t contain the fit of giggles that escaped you practically every time he spoke, all while his hyungs encouraged him and wheezed in fits of laughter by your side.
The second thing you noticed was just how much the two of you actually had in common, your first real conversation sparking from an in depth discussion of FPS games, resulting in a borderline nerd off between the two of you for the rest of the party. You both got along so well that you had made plans for a duo match later that night, which then led into exchanging numbers, and then discord tags. You soon discovered a mutual love of classic movies, which turned into weekly film nights, then sleepovers, which led to grabbing breakfast together, then lunch… The two of you eventually spent so much time together that Wonwoo suggested you become roommates.
It was an offer that you agreed to almost instantly.
It worked perfectly. You each liked to have your own space, but not too much as you both got lonely pretty frequently. And the best part about two introverts living together meant that you also understood each other's social battery, which for some reason never really drained around Wonwoo. It wasn’t uncommon for one person to knock on the other's door out of boredom, asking to have a movie night or a meal together, or even just relax quietly in each other's presence. He was easy to talk to, listened to your ramblings and never judged. You’d rant to him whenever anything bothered you or made you upset, but you always made sure not to take it too far as you never wanted to risk making him uncomfortable.
But you were feeling a bit too loose tonight, maybe it was the alcohol buzzing through your system or the fact that you had just dumped your boyfriend a few days prior. Maybe it was the frustration you’d been bottling up at how shittily your, now ex, treated you for the past year. Everything was slipping through your lips a lot easier than usual, even the information you typically kept close to your chest was pouring out without any filter.
As was evidenced by the abrupt confession about your sex life.
“I thought things were, um, really good between you two on that front?” Wonwoo let out, his brows furrowing together in pure confusion. “I mean you never really talked to me about that stuff, but the noises coming from your room—“
“Fake. All of it.” You snorted, and the look on Wonwoo’s face was so comical you had to force your dizzy head not to fall over laughing. “What can I say, I’m one hell of an actress.”
Wonwoo had to practically wrench his gaping mouth shut, taking a swig of his beer as he seemed to mull over that information. You knew he wasn’t a big drinker, but after you came home practically begging to have a few drinks together to get your mind off of the hellish week you’d had he couldn’t just say no. Letting him have a few beers was the best you could compromise, as you were left to down the harder alcohol sitting in front of you both.
“Is that why you guys broke up?” He asked carefully, testing the waters. Your eyes widened slightly, realizing you’d never actually explained the details to Wonwoo, partially because the wound was still fresh but also because it was yet another embarrassing situation that made you feel small and vulnerable. You gave him a gentle smile and shook your head no, allowing the alcohol to explain for you.
“He’d been texting other girls for the past three months.” You sighed, pouring yourself another glass. “Wasn’t even careful about it either, he got a tinder and a hinge notification while I was over one night. What a dumbass.”
You downed the shot, this one burning your throat slightly more than the rest and you scowled at the feeling. It pissed you off, the fact that you wasted a year of your life with such a shithead and there was nothing to show for it in the end. Wonwoo’s silence might’ve been your cue to shut up if you’d been sober, but your inebriated brain just took it as an invitation to continue.
“I think the part that confused me the most was that I actually felt so relieved when I found out.” You put the shot glass on the coffee table, Wonwoo raised a brow in surprise. “I mean yeah, I was fucking furious about it. Woke that asshole up by dumping a cup of water directly on his head, packed my stuff and didn’t look back once.”
You fidgeted with the soju bottle, thinking over all the conflicting feelings you’d been working through the past few days. “But once I saw those notifications on his phone it really just kinda put everything into perspective for me, I guess. I don’t think I ever once actually imagined a future with the guy. I think, secretly, I always wanted some kind of excuse to end things.”
You adjusted your hand, even all the alcohol in your system suddenly wasn’t enough. “It probably makes me a bitch to say this, but I don’t think I meant it a single time I told him I loved him.” You winced slightly at your own words, a sliver of guilt trailing up your spine. “I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t say it back, you know? We were together for a while, and it’s not like I’m getting any younger.”
Wonwoo shook his head. “You’re not a bitch.” Your eyes shifted to study his face, his expression concerned but his eyes soft. “I’ve been here the entire time, every fight and every argument. The guy was a douchebag.”
You offered him a grateful smile, Wonwoo was always there. He comforted you and listened to you during even the absolute worst moments of your relationship, but never once did he tell you to break up with him. It confused you, since most of your friends came to that very same conclusion any time you so much as brought Si-woo’s name up.
“... Why don’t you ever… talk bad about him?” You remembered sniffling into a crumpled tissue, leaning into Wonwoo’s shoulder after finishing a particularly rough venting session. You’d just bawled your eyes out after the usual spat with Si-woo, and Wonwoo was rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.
He furrowed his brows together and paused his motions. “What do you mean?”
“You listen to me cry and complain about him so much, usually Hao or Jihoon get sick of it and tell me to just dump him already.” You hiccuped slightly, and you noticed his lip curl up in amusement. “But you never say anything… Doesn't it bother you? That I still stay with him even after all of this?”
“I hate that you’re hurting, and I don’t like seeing you sad.” He frowned slightly, and brushed a strand of hair from your tear stained cheeks. “But if you have to cry, I’m just glad I can be here so you’re not feeling these things alone.”
He playfully placed his index finger between your eyebrows and pushed your head back softly, you laughed and another hiccup escaped “I trust that you would leave him if you felt like it was the right thing to do. I don’t think offering up solutions and badmouthing him while you’re in so much distress will help anything.” His gentle smile practically froze you in place, the genuineness in his tone melting away any lingering tears.
“I’m always here, if you ever need someone to just listen.”
That singular moment provided you more comfort than you could ever remember receiving from someone. You weren’t scared to talk about your feelings anymore, you didn’t have to hide your emotions around Wonwoo like you might’ve done around the other guys. But it also disappointed you to a certain degree, because in all honesty if there was anyone you wanted to tell you to end things with Si-woo… It was him.
You knew you’d developed feelings for Wonwoo about a month after meeting him. It wasn’t hard, with how easily the two of you had bonded and how breathtakingly handsome he was. It was more difficult to actually keep it a secret, as you were both practically inseparable and he was always looking at you with such kind eyes and the prettiest smile.
The thought of confessing never so much as crossed your mind. You never dared even speak about it aloud, not even to your friends, but the feelings involuntarily stuck around longer than you anticipated. One month of friendship turned into two, then three turned into four, and when you hit a year was when it all came to a crashing stop.
Your friend Mingyu had set Wonwoo up on a blind date with someone from his job, and they ended up becoming official not long after.
Hana was her name, gorgeous with long dark hair and wispy lashes, she had a model figure and the most charming Daegu dialect. She suited Wonwoo well, the two of them immediately becoming an absolute powerhouse of a couple in terms of visuals. You congratulated your friend and his new girlfriend with smiles and squeals of course, but it did nothing to stop the silent cries you’d given your pillow the weeks following. It took time, it took effort, and it took a lot of strength, but you eventually got past it.
Si-woo was your first venture into dating after properly getting over your little crush, about a year after Hana and Wonwoo got together. He treated you like a princess in the beginning, and you had to admit it helped soothe that leftover ache.
It was the small moments, the good moments with Si-woo where you felt yourself properly moving forward, moving past all those lingering feelings. But it was the bad moments that made you regret it, the ones where he would search through your phone while you went to the bathroom, the ones where he would ignore you for days because you were laughing a little too much at one of Dokyeom’s jokes, the ones where he wouldn’t take you on any dates unless you agreed to pay for them.
It wasn’t right, all your friends knew it and you did too, but routine can be a scarily addictive thing.
You remember being proud of yourself for not feeling much when Wonwoo had told you he and Hana had broken up, roughly a month into your own relationship with Si-woo. Obviously you felt concern for your friend’s wellbeing, for his mental state and whether or not he was heartbroken over it all. But you didn’t squeak in concealed excitement, you didn’t jump for joy behind closed doors, and you didn’t go to bed picturing yourself and Wonwoo’s first date like you probably would have a year prior.
You might’ve felt a little bit of happiness. But only a little.
“Look at you, finally saying something bad about him.” You chuckled, watching your own hand pour soju into a glass as if you had no control over it. “I’m surprised you held back for so long, Hao always had lots of creative words to describe Si-woo. “
“I’m not gonna lie, keeping it in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” You snickered outwardly as he exhaled. “But you needed someone to listen. That was much more important than making it known how badly I wanted to shove his head into a wall.”
“Tell that to Cheol, he almost strangled the guy when I told him half the shit he did.” A sigh escaped and you softly swished the soju against the shot glass. “I mean honestly, when he used to get mad at me for hanging out with the guys? Calling the video games I played childish, nagging me if I wore something even slightly revealing to class, the list goes on and on.”
Wonwoo shook his head with a huff. “I never knew how you dealt with him, I respected it, but I never understood it.”
“I honestly have no idea either, dude.” You exhaled, your cheeks puffing as you leaned your head back to look at the ceiling fan. “What’s even worse is I faked so many orgasms for that fucker just so he wouldn’t feel bad, I gave the performance of a goddamn lifetime too!”
“You were doing charity work honestly.” He chuckled, sipping his beer once more. “I don’t think I remember you ever saying a single good thing about the guy while you were together, isn’t that crazy?”
“That’s because there wasn’t.” You snickered, your eyes glancing to look at Wonwoo once more. “The worst was when we fought about you, though.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Me?” You nodded, smiling at his expression. “You never once mentioned you guys having arguments because of me?”
“I never wanted you to feel bad because of it.” You shrugged a single shoulder, the rest of your muscles completely relaxed. “You’re my roommate. You’re also an attractive guy. He was a controlling and jealous asshole. It’s pretty easy to put two and two together with how he’d react.”
Wonwoo seemed conflicted, as if unsure whether to apologize for causing issues or to agree with the sentiment of Si-woo being a terrible partner. Your next words came out like an echo, and your mind was much too slow to stop them from spilling out before they reached your tongue.
“To be fair, he was right to be worried.”
A stifling silence fell upon the cozy living room, and you weren’t even able to fully process what you had actually said because you were too busy taking another shot. The movement of it made you feel fuzzy, and the look Wonwoo was giving you made you giggle.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes were slightly narrowed, and his mouth looked oh so attractive at the moment you just wanted to crawl over and nibble on it. A stray laugh escaped your mouth.
“I had a crush on you, dumbass.” You hiccuped, using your hands to emphasize something large. “A biiiiig one, a long time ago~”
You reached down to pour another shot but Wonwoo stopped your hand. You frowned, watching as he brought the soju bottle and glass to his side and away from you.
“If you’re just gonna sit there drinking your little beer like a baby, one of us has to at least finish all the real alcohol!” You whined, pushing your arm out and attempting to snatch the bottle back weakly.
Wonwoo was still for a moment, and instead of giving in to your complaints proceeded to take a long swig from the bottle itself. You couldn’t hide the dumb grin growing on your face as he drank it all down in one go, a couple of coughs escaping to show his unfamiliarity with the drink.
“There, all gone. No more for you.” He spoke while clearing his throat, and your head was barely able to comprehend the fact that he was right. The bottle Wonwoo had just finished was the last, everything else on the table being empty or with just enough to fill a cap full. You groaned.
“We should go get moreee, you need to get on my level so we’re even.” You grunted, attempting to stand up from your seat on the floor but stumbling and falling back down in your original spot.
“I don’t think any amount of alcohol would ever get me to the state you’re in right now.” Wonwoo chuckled, his voice low and deep, practically giving you goosebumps. “You should get ready for bed before you black yourself out.”
“You promised you’d distract me from my shitty week, if you send me to my room all I’m gonna do is drive myself insane thinking about everything.” You pouted, swaying slightly and giving your roommate a questioning brow. “Are you going back on your word? Abandoning your drunk, sad, pitiful friend like this?”
Wonwoo let out a deep sigh and you knew you had him, he grabbed his beer once more and took his final sip of it before placing it on the coffee table. “Fine, what do you want to do?”
“Games.” You clapped excitedly, shaking your head when Wonwoo started crawling over to set up the PlayStation a few feet from you both. “Not video games, board games! Or a card game or something.”
“I’m pretty sure we left all our physical stuff at Jun’s place last time we all hung out.” Wonwoo frowned after peering through the glass cubbies of your media cabinet. “I’m not sure we have anything here to play with.”
You thought for a moment, eyeing down the empty shot glass when the idea sprang up almost instantly. “What about ‘Questions’? We haven’t played that in so long!”
“A drinking game? Did you forget that I just downed the rest of the alcohol?” Wonwoo motioned to the table, scratching the back of his neck. “The whole point is to drink if you can’t answer.”
“We can just answer everything then!” You snickered, watching as Wonwoo rubbed his eyes under his glasses, no doubt exhausted by your behavior tonight. “Orrrr we can bet. Whoever doesn’t answer first has to do whatever the winner wants.”
He looked at you for a moment, considering. Those spare seconds allowed your delirious mind to subtly ogle your roommate, your mouth drying up just from a mere once-over of him. He picked out the most basic, comfortable clothes he owned, a plain cotton black tee with loose fitting black sweats, and yet it always baffled you how he still managed to look runway ready. His long black hair was messy, and the itch to run your hands through it all was interrupted when Wonwoo moved to settle in and leaned his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm.
“Fine, deal. You first then.” He nodded towards you and you couldn’t help the feelings of excitement and happiness that bubbled up in your stomach. You sat up straight to think.
“If you had to make out with one of the guys, who would you choose?” You cackled loudly as Wonwoo scrunched his face in disgust at the question. He hesitated for a while, and you grinned thinking you might’ve already won.
“Jeonghan, but specifically when he had his long hair.” You let out a noise of approval but he visibly shivered at the thought. “I’d simply close my eyes and try not to think about it.”
“Hot.” Wonwoo threw a stray couch pillow at your face in retaliation and you snorted a laugh. “Jokinggg~ It’s your turn.”
“… So, when exactly did you have that little crush on me?” You rolled your eyes.
“Not letting that confession slip past, I see?” You scoffed at his small self satisfied smirk, the urge to kiss it off fighting every nerve in your intoxicated head. “You’re so obvious, trying to fluster me… but I’m over it buddy. Those dazzling charms don’t work on me anymore!”
“I’m not hearing an answer.” Wonwoo hummed, the corner of his eyes crinkling to match his smile. “Should I take that as me winning? Or~”
You sighed and gave in reluctantly. “A few weeks after becoming friends.” His smile turned to a look of genuine surprise and you suddenly felt a bit self conscious at airing it all out.
“That early on?” He spoke uncharacteristically gently, and you nodded slowly. His brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me—“
“Woah there buddy, not your turn anymore!” You laughed a bit anxiously, already trying to think of a question that would get him to lose lest he keep pressing the subject. “My turn now!”
Wonwoo appeared disappointed but motioned a hand for you to continue. The hammering in your chest was a little too hard, and you weren’t sure if it was just because of the soju anymore.
“Why did you and Hana break up?” You spoke softly. In your head it was a sure fire way of winning, he had never told anyone the reason, not even the guys. You respected his privacy enough not to prod the subject, but you figured if there was any time to casually ask about it, it was while the soju was still thrumming strong in your veins. He stayed quiet for a few beats, and right when you were sure you had won, he sighed before answering.
“We never actually loved each other.” He spoke quietly, almost to the point where you had to strain to hear him. “We distracted each other for a decent amount of time, but that’s pretty much it.”
You knitted your brows together, shocked at how his one answer managed to cause a million other questions to run through your mind. What on earth did he mean by that? Him and Hana were a match made in heaven as far as you were able to see, both of them practically glowing whenever they had each other around. They never fought, always went on dates, hell she even stayed over at the apartment a few times.
“When did it stop?” Wonwoo’s voice tore you out of your own racing thoughts, and you looked at him dumbly.
“What?”
“The feelings you had for me.” He specified, his tone a lot more serious compared to when you began. “When did they stop?”
You swallowed dryly. If you were to be completely honest with yourself, they never went away. The overwhelming crush you had on him had been gone for a while now, but nothing ever really stopped those lingering feelings that still sat heavy in the back of your chest. If they were gone, why were you still finding him as gloriously kissable as the day you’d met.
“When you started dating Hana. I officially gave up around that time.” You let out whatever the liquor allowed you to, trying not to ponder too hard on it. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly have feelings for a taken guy, what would that make me?” An awkward chuckle escaped as you did your best to diffuse the tension a bit.
Wonwoo’s expression was unreadable, and your brain wasn’t even focused on the game anymore. Your head simply became muddled with questions, barely able to remember that you were only allowed to ask one at a time.
“What do you mean by ‘distracted each other’?” It was an odd thing to say no matter how you put it, and there was no guarantee that even if Wonwoo felt that way that Hana did as well. And maybe it was a delusional one track minded bias towards your roommate, but you didn’t want to think that he was just using her either.
“When Mingyu set us up, I had feelings for someone else at the time.” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the new piece of information, Wonwoo distracted himself by picking at his fingernails. “And when I met Hana, she told me she had feelings for someone else as well. But she said that it would never work out, she was extremely resigned to that fact.”
It took you all but a minute to put the pieces together.
“… Mingyu?” You asked, Wonwoo nodded.
“The person she liked most set her up on a dozen blind dates, how much harder can you really friendzone someone?” You nodded in understanding, feeling a heavy amount of pity for the poor girl. “My own self confidence was pretty low at the time, so we kind of just saw ourselves in one another. We did actually try dating at first but it never really felt right, it became more like a mutual partnership than anything else. We talked a lot, mostly about how hard it was to bottle everything up. We’d go out but would never hold hands, we’d sleep over but I would always take the floor, I’d pat her back while she sobbed over Mingyu and she’d listen to me vent till we knocked out. We just… helped each other. Distracted ourselves for a bit.”
You nodded in thought, noticing a small weight lift off your chest. What he had with Hana was companionship, it was sweet and caring but never romantic. It slightly fascinated you that they were able to maintain such a platonic relationship for an entire year, and baffled you even more that neither even came close to falling for each other when they were both such attractive people inside and out.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Wonwoo’s voice came out slightly strained, prompting you to give him your full attention. He suddenly seemed… frustrated? Upset? You weren’t sure, but the tightening of his jaw and downward gaze made your heart clench just from looking at him.
You could’ve lied, you could’ve said a half truth like being scared of ruining your friendship or that you just hadn’t thought about all that in forever. The alcohol flowing through your bloodstream had other plans though, and you had no restraint as you felt the real answer pour out without a second guess.
“What? And embarrass myself?” You laughed airily, watching Wonwoo’s expression tighten slightly. The most you could offer him was a shrug. “It was more like a fantasy to me, something I used to daydream about. Trust me, I am very self aware of where I rank on the attractiveness scale, especially compared to you. Telling you would’ve done nothing but humiliate the shit out of me, and getting rejected would have sent me spiraling.”
Wonwoo frowned, looking up at you with his brows scrunched in concentration. “Did I do something to come across as unapproachable to you? I hope you know I’d never ever make you feel bad over something like that.”
You shook your head immediately. “Nothing like that at all.” The fuzziness in your brain made your words slur a bit, and you paused before continuing. “I just meant I’ve always thought of you as way too out of my league to even consider—“
Silence.
Wonwoo’s conflicted expression dropped altogether, a small smile forming not too long after. Fine, maybe you’d just hinted that you still thought that way now. But what did you have to lose at this point? He knew about the crush, and there wasn’t much else for you to really expose about yourself. The feeling was oddly liberating, not having to hide or keep it all in anymore. Surely your sober self will be mortified in the morning, but right now you were simply enjoying the freedom that came with your inebriated state.
Just when you were about to scoff out something about never boosting his ego like that ever again, you noticed that the smile that had appeared faded just as quickly. You held your breath, his gaze becoming stone serious.
“I never want to hear you bringing yourself down like that, you have it completely backwards.” The sudden sincerity in his tone took you by complete surprise. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever come across as indifferent to you, but I do think you have severely underestimated just how breathtaking you are.”
Your eyes widened, utterly dumbfounded by the abrupt admittance. In the past three years Wonwoo had only explicitly called you attractive a handful of times, each one forever being burned into your memory as something to cherish. Granted it wouldn’t exactly have been appropriate for him to constantly be calling you hot while he had a girlfriend or when you had a boyfriend, but it just made the flattery he did give that much more heartfelt and genuine.
You felt your cheeks burn warm and you suddenly became incredibly overwhelmed by the temperature of the living room, pressing the back of your palm to your forehead briefly in a half-assed attempt to cool your face. You offered him a small smile, trying to play off how affected you become just from his praise alone.
“Jeon Wonwoo,” you begin, a mock warning in your voice. “You’re not sly, I know you’re still trying to fluster me.”
“Maybe my goal is to get you to fall for me all over again~” He wiggled his brow, and you felt your eyes roll back for the millionth time that night. “Your turn, go.”
You tried to think of anything other than the one real question that kept stubbornly pushing its way into the front of your mind. You knew it had the power to either help you move on, hurt you, or… something else. You weren’t sure, but one look at Wonwoo and it felt almost as if he knew what you were thinking. Without wasting another second, the question tumbled out without a spare thought.
“You mentioned having feelings for someone when you started dating Hana…” You licked your lips, trying to sound as casual as you could but failing miserably. “Who was it?”
The stare you gave Wonwoo was anything but subtle, but you didn’t care. Your heart pounded, palms sweated, face heated as you found that you didn’t care to hide it anymore. It had been years since the “end” of your crush and you had already spilled everything tonight, the least he could do was give you the closure you’d been craving all this—
“You.”
You froze, your breath catching in your throat as Wonwoo offered a genuine smile. You simultaneously wanted to smack it off and kiss it off at the same time. You had to remind yourself that this was years ago he was talking about, not now. It was the only thing grounding you to the spot and keeping yourself from lunging at him.
“You’re such a dumbass.” You let slip, making Wonwoo’s smile fall slightly from his face. “What kind of idiot gets into a relationship with another girl when he has a crush on someone else? Talk about self sabotage.”
“Now how the hell was I supposed to know you liked me too?”
“Dude, you really think I actually enjoyed just sitting there and watching you play League for five hours straight?”
“Do you think I enjoyed driving you to the official Sanrio store every week to look at the same five plushies you were never gonna buy?”
“… Touché.”
You both let out a stream of chuckles, but your muddled mind couldn’t let go of the fact that at one point in time, you both had feelings for one another. The guy who you dreamt and fantasized about for a year straight had liked you. Not only that, but he’d liked you even when he was with Hana, one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever seen. Your heated blood combined with the temperature of the room grew to be almost unbearable.
“If you don’t mind me asking, then…” You picked at a stray thread coming from the bottom of your shorts to keep yourself busy. “When did the feelings stop? On your end, I mean.”
You looked up at Wonwoo when he remained quiet, his expression unreadable. You raised an irritated brow at him when you couldn’t handle the silence anymore, and he grinned mischievously.
“I would answer, but it’s not your turn~” He hummed, you groaned.
“Fine, go.” He didn’t even hesitate to ask his next question, your entire body tensed.
“You said the thought of us together was like a fantasy to you,” your finger that had been picking at a thread pulled it out a little too harshly, “what kinda stuff did you fantasize about?”
The copious amount of alcohol in your bloodstream wasn’t nearly enough to answer any easier than if you were sober. You couldn’t quite look at his face, but felt only a portion of the truth slip past your lips. It took every ounce of strength in your body to restrain yourself from exposing more than needed.
“Just, you know, stuff that everyone thinks about when they like someone.” You shrugged, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “Going on dates, holding hands, sometimes kissing…”
“Being intimate?” Wonwoo asked and you froze, indirectly answering the question for him. “Was I good at it? In those fantasies?”
You didn’t need to look at him to realize he was probably just messing with you now, and you suddenly felt a small rush of regret for the potential ammo you’ve just given him to tease you for the years to come. Sure, he’d confessed his past feelings too, but that was still nothing in comparison to just how much you’d spilled about yourself tonight.
“Have you ever thought about me? When you were—“
“It’s my turn!” You interjected, eager to get a break from embarrassing yourself further. “You need to answer my question first.”
He shut his mouth and nodded, sitting back slightly with his hands relaxing in his lap. Perhaps it was wishful thinking or the soju clouding your brain, but after finally looking at his face again you noticed he seemed to be more genuinely curious than joking. His posture was straight, and his demeanor was surprisingly serious for someone who only meant to tease you.
“Same question I asked before.” You spoke softly, looking him up and down. “When did your feelings stop?”
Your heart practically stopped beating when he shook his head, his posture still stiff and seemingly anxious. You crinkled your brow, unsure if you actually understood the meaning of his response.
“They didn’t.” He spoke a bit shakily with a nervous grin plastered on, you felt a clump form in the back of your throat. “I ended things with Hana because I started feeling bad. We used to be pretty balanced when it came to communication, but after you started dating Si-woo… Let’s just say she listened to me vent a lot more than was healthy for either of us.”
You stayed quiet and unbearably still, afraid that moving would wake you from the potential dream you were currently experiencing.
“No matter how hard I tried, I’ve just never been able to stop thinking about you.” He mumbled carefully, eyeing your reaction. “But that’s not to say I can’t suppress it, as long as I have you in my life at all I’m more than happy. Even if it’s just as friends—“
“I used to go to sleep imagining what your lips would feel like.” You croaked out before you could stop yourself. Wonwoo’s eyes widened. “They just… they always looked so soft… I wanted to kiss you until I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.”
“Wh— What…” He stuttered out, swallowing loudly. “Um, what else did you think about?”
“Whenever I went into your room while you were playing a game, I’d imagine you grabbing my waist and pulling me into your lap.” You shuddered slightly, watching Wonwoo’s eyes darken. “I thought about h-how your hand might feel squeezing my thighs, my waist… brushing under my shirt.”
“You remember that heat wave we had a few months ago? The one where our AC broke for a week straight?” He tilted his head slightly as he looked you up and down, you nodded your head slowly. “I lied about the maintenance guy being booked. I just wanted to see you walking around the apartment in that skimpy little tank top and those silk short-shorts a little longer.”
You smiled at that, your blood pumping faster at the thought that you might’ve affected him just as much as he affected you. Your eyes locked on the pair of lips that had plagued your mind for years and your mouth went dry.
“I used to think to myself a lot, about how hot you look in those glasses.” You spoke dumbly, biting your bottom lip as if to reign it in for the time being. “I always wanted to know if they stayed on. Whenever you…“
His brow raised almost instantly at your question, he smiled a little and adjusted the pair of glasses almost instinctively. You all but drooled at the sight, finding it nearly impossible to control anything at this point.
”They tend to either fall off or fog up, so I typically just take them off.” Wonwoo said, seeming to think over his next sentence carefully. “But I guess I wouldn’t mind trying to keep them on, if it was something my partner was into.”
You had to force yourself not to nod subconsciously, your veins thrumming at the very familiar fantasy of a half naked Wonwoo holding himself above you in his dorky little glasses. Instead you chose to shift your position to sit on your hands, lest your arms decide to reach out and touch the very tempting man seated across from you.
“Have you ever thought about me?” You scrunch your nose at Wonwoo, making it clear you didn’t fully understand his question. He let out a slightly shaky breath but spoke in a voice that oozed seriousness. “When touching yourself… Did the thought of me ever make you…”
You grinned and bit down the blunt ‘orgasm?’ that attempted to spring from your throat haphazardly. You looked towards the floor, still a slight bit anxious despite everything already having been aired in the open.
“I’d say nearly every time.” You chuckled softly, the silence that followed not going unnoticed. “I felt really guilty and awful, especially since I was dating Si-woo at the time and I also felt like I was objectifying my best friend. But then somehow it kinda ended up being the only way I could get that release, it’s fucked up I know… I should’ve just tried porn or something—“
“I thought you said you stopped liking me after I started dating Hana?”
You froze, gaining an entire arms worth of goosebumps at the note of realization in Wonwoo’s tone. You licked your dry lips, willing your voice not to crack.
“Uh, y-yeah. I did.”
“But you started seeing Si-woo after me and Hana got together.”
“O-oh, yeah you’re right I was probably just confused—“
“So you lied then?” Wonwoo’s posture was arrow straight, not a single hint as to what could possibly be happening in his brain. “You still liked me, even after I started dating Hana?”
You looked him in the eyes, mouth opening and closing but the words remained stuck in the back of your throat. He waited patiently, eyes locked in and tracking every move you dared to make, from the ragged breaths you took to your fidgeting fingers gripping the carpet fibers.
“… I lied.” You nodded, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. “I-I mean the enormous crush I had on you disappeared but… those feelings are still—“
Wonwoo didn’t wait for you to finish, he stood from his place across the coffee table and walked over to sit next to you. Your eyes followed his movements nervously, shifting awkwardly to give him a few inches of space.
Both of you now sat with your backs to the foot of the couch, your bodies facing forward with your heads turned towards one another. Wonwoo studied your face carefully and you swore you felt your cheeks burn an impossible shade of red.
“You know I won, right?” Wonwoo smiled softly, causing your intoxicated brain to stutter at the sudden shift in topic.
“What?”
“You lied to me. That counts as refusing to answer a question.” He shrugged slightly. “That means I won the game.”
You huffed out in mild annoyance, acknowledging that there was some validity in his reasoning. You were the one who rattled on yourself, there was no sense in fighting him.
“Fine, you won.” You admitted with a sigh, pouting out your bottom lip. An act that immediately caught Wonwoo’s gaze, and you felt your heart pick up its pace slightly.
“I believe there was a bet in place too,” Wonwoo spoke slowly, inching slightly closer to your side, “the loser has to do whatever the winner wants,” he brought his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek and causing you to shiver, “do you remember?”
You nodded softly, anxiety and nervousness and excitement all bubbling up together in one big mesh of feelings within your chest. The proximity of your face to Wonwoo’s was close, but he was hesitating slightly and you were itching to pull him into you already.
“Is this okay?” Wonwoo asked shakily, cupping your chin and pressing his forehead to yours. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
You nodded once more, a little too enthusiastically this time. Your hands slid up to wrap around his neck and lock him in place, as if subconsciously terrified of him changing his mind.
“God yes…” You practically whispered, Wonwoo smiled softly at your words. “Please, I—“
The kiss was gentle, at least at first. Nothing but the soft feeling of pressing lips together and the closeness it provided. And yet at the same time it felt like a gong being smacked in your head, ringing throughout your ears and reverberating throughout your entire body. The motion of his lips moving against your own combined with his scent, the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking your cheek so carefully, it made you feel lightheaded. It was as if you were floating on nothing, completely weightless, the only thing grounding you being Wonwoo’s lips on yours.
He pulled away too quickly, looking at you seemingly for some kind of confirmation that what you both were doing was still okay. You gave him another quick nod, and he immediately dove back in.
The second time was much more intense, both of your eagerness quickly surpassing Wonwoo’s original intent to keep it slow and steady. Your lips moved languidly, opening slightly in an attempt to deepen the kiss to which he hungrily accepted. His hand hurriedly shifted to the back of your head to grab a handful of hair and tug it gently, it lowered to your neck, to your shoulders, to your arms, your waist. He gave you a squeeze and pulled you closer, almost like he couldn’t feel enough of you as quickly as he wanted. You clung on to the back of his neck like your life depended on it, relishing in the firm grip of his hands on your waist.
Your blood was on fire, every inch of you burning to be touched and to get closer to him. Your head grew dizzy from the very thought that any of this was actually happening, that Wonwoo was kissing you like he needed it to survive, that you were kissing him back. You almost didn’t believe it was real, that any moment now you’d wake up in a puddle of sweat in your bed and panting like a damn dog. If your hands weren’t the only thing steadying you from the exhilarating feeling of Wonwoo’s lips on yours you might’ve tried pinching your thigh to wake yourself up.
After a few breathless moments Wonwoo pulled his mouth away, moving to kiss your jaw up and down, his favorite spot being right below your ear. The sound of his heavy breathing caused your entire body to shiver and you practically felt his smirk press into your skin. His mouth moved to the crook of your neck, licking slowly and sensually before sucking the places he especially liked. His mouth trailed back up your neck to nibble on a particularly sensitive spot and you involuntarily let out a small whine.
Wonwoo froze, and you started panicking.
“Oh god I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I sound like that I’ll be more quiet—“
He dove back in to kiss you with a renewed fervor, his hands gripping your sides as if to anchor him as he let out a muffled groan. You gasped into his lips as he kissed you roughly, drinking you in as much as physically possible.
You couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that grew on your lips as you climbed yourself into Wonwoo’s lap, causing him to release an incredibly strained moan. His arms tightened around you, and his hands dipped under your sweater to make skin to skin contact with your waist. You arched into it, encouraging him as those same hands trailed up your back and down your spine, sending waves of tingles throughout your body.
The two of you continued to kiss heatedly as Wonwoo proceeded to explore your stomach and upper ribs, not allowing himself nor you the pleasure of touching just a little higher and causing you to whine repeatedly. He seemed to partially enjoy being a tease, partially hate torturing himself by holding back.
“I-I can’t… Touch…” Wonwoo mumbled out between wet kisses, you eventually detached yourself from his mouth to return the favor of sucking and licking his neck, somewhat allowing him to get a few more words out. “I can’t touch you…”
You frowned slightly and nibbled on his collarbone before pulling away to face him. His hair was a wreck and sticking up everywhere, his glasses were fogged and barely hanging off the edge of his nose, his pale skin was beginning to flush and his eyes were lidded and dilated. If you hadn’t known that the guy had been sipping the same beer for the past two hours you might’ve thought he was completely hammered.
“Why? Why not?” You crinkled a brow, placing your hands around his own that had been gently stroking the skin just above your stomach. “It’d feel so nice, soft, sensitive…” You slowly inched his hands higher, and felt his fingers subconsciously brush against the underside of your breast. Wonwoo let out a surprised grunt and you silently celebrated your choice of going braless beneath your oversized sweater. You tilted your head all the way back and leaned into his touch with a whimper, trying to get him to do it again.
“Fuck, fuck…” Wonwoo practically whispered, his breath hitching as he closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his control. He took a few deep breaths but froze his motions completely much to your irritation, you huffed out in frustration and wiggled in his lap impatiently causing whatever remaining strings were left in him to snap.
He removed one of his hands and used it to pull you closer to him. His hand roughly gripped the back of your head to rest on his shoulder while his other traveled to your sternum, still not quite close enough to touch your breasts but enough to make you audibly groan out.
“Are you trying to fucking torture me, huh?” He choked out, his already deep voice managing to go two octaves lower. “I’ve thought about this moment for years. You know how easily I could make you come right here? Right now?”
You whined and nodded quickly, feeling his hand sliding back downwards toward your navel. His mouth was pressed right against your ear, and the sound of his heavy breathing was fueling the boiling ache between your legs like nothing else.
“But no. I’m gonna take my time. I want to spend hours on you. I want to make sure you come back begging for me to touch you again.” His fingers trail the outline of your panties, causing you to shiver. “I’ll fuck you so good and dirty that it’s all you think about for months. You’ll be coming to my room in the middle of the night craving my tongue, and I guarantee my face will be buried between those thighs till you’re dumb and limp.”
Your entire body tensed up as the fire in your blood burned hotter, your whimpers became desperate as the desire to grind down on Wonwoo grew exponentially stronger. He seemed to catch on to this, immediately moving his hands to your hips to stall any movement. You groan out in irritation.
“But, I refuse to do any of that when you’re drunk.” His once incredibly lustful tone turned into one of gentleness and patience. You moved back from his shoulder to meet his eyes, gleaming with sincerity. “I need you to be completely aware of what we’re doing. I need you to be one hundred percent certain that this is something you want. And you definitely can’t do that right now.”
You pouted and were about to argue when you felt a spell of dizziness hit like a slap to the face. You gripped his shoulder to stabilize yourself, and his hold on your waist hardened to help steady you.
“See I know you’re right, but part of me is even more turned on that you’re being a good person and not taking advantage of me.”
Wonwoo laughed audibly, his goofy smile warming your heart and instantly reminding you of how you came to fall for him in the first place. You leaned in to offer another slow, languid kiss to which he accepted. The fact that you could do that now, just kiss him whenever you wanted to, it was genuinely like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. You sneakily attempted to escalate the kiss before you felt your head being tugged back.
“That’s enough, bedtime.” You whined.
“Now tell me why the hell you riled me up that much if you were just going to send me to bed.” You frowned, pouting as Wonwoo chuckled.
“I held back for three years, do you have any idea how much self control it’s taking just for me to stop?” He smiled, fidgeting with a loose strand of your hair. “I can wait one more day, but first I need to make sure you don’t wake up regretting all this.”
You shook your head quickly, not wanting that thought to plague his mind for even a second. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned in to hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.
“Never. I could never regret any of this.” You murmured, feeling your eyes flutter shut. A rumbling from his chest that indicated a soft laugh reverberated through your body, and you distantly felt yourself getting picked up off the ground and taken into your own bed.
As you felt the familiarity of your blankets and sheets being tucked in tightly around you, you realized he had no intention to stay. It took ninety nine percent of your inebriated brain’s capacity, but you managed to quickly snatch one of his hands before he turned to go to his own room.
“Stay tonight..” you mumbled out without even opening your eyes, you felt his hand tense. “I won’t do anything, just stay…”
The last thing you felt was the feeling of the bed sinking in next to you as you drifted into a dreamless sleep.
-
You were hot.
Extremely hot.
Did you forget to take off your clothes before bed last night? You typically slept in your underwear for that exact reason.
You shifted your legs slightly and grunted out when you felt the thick lining of your favorite sweatpants rub against one another. No wonder.
You adjusted your position in an attempt to remove the pants when you suddenly found yourself locked in place, a heavy weight over your shoulder pressing down and restricting you from moving freely. Not only that, a warm, soft hand was gently wrapped around your own.
Your eyes flew open as you suddenly became extremely aware of the predicament you’d put yourself in. His breathing felt slow and steady, indicating that the former still hadn’t woken up yet. His mouth seemed to be directly behind your neck, if the warm air continuously tickling the back of it was any indication. You let out a small shiver at the feeling.
And to make matters even worse, the hard length that seemed to be poking into your leg definitely belonged to none other than the guy you viciously made out with last night.
IT WAS REAL?!
The splitting headache you’d initially felt completely dissipated as you instead focused on your actions last night. Your first thoughts began with denial, the truth that you’d spilt the entirety of your guts and more to your roommate and best friend who’d just been trying to cheer you up… it was humiliating. Not only that, you practically threw yourself into his lap and shoved your tongue down his throat.
You closed your eyes tightly as you held back the urge to sneak out of bed and run to the nearest airport. Maybe you could vacation to America for a bit, you spoke a decent amount of English, you could get by. Just long enough for Wonwoo to forget how desperate you had behaved last night—
I will never recover from this…
Next came the anger at yourself for drinking that much in the first place, what did you think was going to happen?? You were freshly single, drinking an absurd amount of alcohol around the guy you’d been fantasizing about since you MET him. You could barely control your hormones when you were sober, nevermind when you’re completely wasted.
Yeah, big genius you were.
Not only that, the two of you are roommates. What if things got awkward now? What if you had to avoid each other, what if he’s grossed out—
Wait.
…
He wasn’t grossed out.
In fact, if you remembered correctly, he had muttered absolute filth into your ear about what he wanted to do with you. He’d even been encouraging it as much as you were egging him on, he liked you back. He admitted it himself—
OH MY GOD?!
WONWOO LIKED YOU BACK?!
Your eyes opened once more and your jaw dropped slightly in realization, the soft snores from the man behind you had slowed to a halt and you felt your body tense. His limbs stirred and he lifted his head groggily to check if you were awake.
“Good Morning…” His raspy morning voice caused a tingle to run through your spine, and he didn’t even hesitate to offer a small kiss on your temple before laying back down. Your heart melted, and you slowly moved to pinch yourself slightly just to double check.
It seemed he was hit with a reality check of his own too though, because not long after the kiss you felt his entire body stiffen. He stuttered out, trying to form a sentence but struggling.
“I— uh… are you? O-OH!! Oh I am so sorry—“
He cleared his throat and shifted back slightly, enough so that you wouldn't be able to feel his “morning problem” against you. Your face flushed as you found yourself disappointed by its absence.
“I—it’s okay…” you coughed out, voice hoarse and mouth dry from all the alcohol you’d consumed the night prior. “I didn’t really mind…”
Wonwoo hesitated for a beat but never removed his arms from being wrapped around you, which you took as a good sign. You placed your free hand atop his and squeezed, boldly snuggling further back into his arms to let him know you were okay with being held by him. His muscles relaxed, squeezing you tightly in return and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“Do you… Remember last night?” Wonwoo mumbled into your skin, goosebumps prickling your arms at the feeling. “You drank so much, I wouldn’t be surprised if you blacked any of it out…”
“… I remember everything.” You confirmed in a small voice, still a bit anxious for some reason. “At least I think I do? I could have definitely just imagined some portions, I’m not too sure what was fantasy and what was reality.”
Wonwoo laughed softly and you had to admit it was a bit embarrassing, knowing that he was practically sober all night while you had drowned your sorrows in soju and were unable to trust your own recollections.
“How about you tell me what you remember and I’ll let you know if it happened or not then?” Wonwoo suggested, and you felt your heart rate quicken at having to say it all aloud again. You knew that at least some of your memories had to be real, judging from the forehead kiss he’d given you and the clinginess he’d been showing, but what if you had completely imagined the steamy parts? It would be even more embarrassing…
You were way too sober to go through this again.
You sucked in a breath and started easy. “I confessed that I used to have a crush on you last night.”
“Wrong.” Your heart stopped briefly. “You confessed that you still have a crush on me last night. Present tense.”
You elbowed his side softly, causing a deep chuckle to escape his chest. “You know what I meant.” Still, a small bit of pressure was slightly lifted off your shoulders at his confirmation. “You told me you have feelings for me too.”
Wonwoo nodded his answer, his head still buried into your neck. You smiled at that, never once thinking that him returning your crush was even a possibility in the past.
“We—“ you paused, treading into dangerous territory. “We kissed… a lot. I got on your lap.”
You felt him clench his fingers around your own slightly. And before he could confirm or deny the claim, you rushed to get the rest out as well.
“You said some things… Some really, really dirty things…”
“I did.” Wonwoo spoke stiffly, probably embarrassed in his own way. You felt a rush of excitement at the confirmation, and a bit of nervousness as his rigid body tensed up behind you.
You both stayed that way, still and quiet for a few minutes, processing everything that had happened and where to continue from there. It was a lot easier and a lot less nerve wracking when you were drunk, but you gathered enough courage to softly press your behind into Wonwoo’s front.
A grunt of surprise escaped his throat and you sucked in your lip, hoping that it wasn’t too late to collect on last night's promises. You pressed back again, this time rolling your hips slightly in encouragement.
“Y-you… you still want…” Wonwoo groaned, his hand instinctively clinging on to your lower waist to pull you closer into him.
“Yes.” You sighed, wiggling slightly as you heard him suck in a sharp breath. “And for fucks sake touch me this time.”
Wonwoo didn’t need to be told twice, his hand immediately dipped under your sweater, once again exploring your navel, your sternum. An incoherent moan forced its way from your throat when his hand finally cupped your breast, kneading and prodding.
“It fits so perfectly in my hand, doesn’t it?” He gave a soft squeeze, using his index finger to play with your perked nipple. “God what I would give to see them bounce while I pound into you…”
You couldn’t do anything but whine when he moved his mouth to kiss your neck, never once stopping his ministrations on your chest. The feeling of his tongue traveling up to your earlobe then back down to your shoulder was almost enough to make you scream into your pillow, you clung to his bicep desperately as you practically melted into his arms.
You could barely register this was actually happening, hell you would’ve thought you’d been dropped directly into one of your dirty dreams if it weren’t for the fact that his physical presence around you was so strong. His scent, his weight, his voice… God you would have never imagined Wonwoo would be so vocal in bed.
.. Not that you were complaining one bit.
“Speaking of…” He spoke directly into your ear, causing a pool of heat to rise in your lower belly. His hand released your breast, finally exploring lower and dipping beneath your underwear. “Let me see just how fucking wet you get for me baby.”
You were practically panting at this point, and the soft pressure he provided as he prodded your folds almost made you come on the spot. You were getting impatient and he knew it too, proceeding to circle your clit with a deliberate smirk as he moved his hand faster, his eyes observing every detail of your desperate expression.
“Are you gonna look like this when I put my dick in you? God I bet it would just slide right in…” He let out a hollow chuckle as he inserted a single finger, making sure to also put pressure on his palm. You instinctively attempted to grind into it, shivering when he let out a deep groan. “What kind of noises do you make when you come, huh? I wanna hear them all.”
You gasp as his hand picks up its pace and he curls his fingers inward to find the perfect spot. You attempt to ground yourself by gripping the sheets, crying out and pleading for any kind of release from the intense pressure threatening to burst.
“Wonwoo… fuck! Pleaseeee!” You whined out, any leftover teasing in his voice seemed to dissipate at that.
“You’re gonna come on my fingers, then on my face, then on my cock.” He spoke carefully, inserting another digit and causing you to hum out in relief. “Then we’re gonna repeat it, over and over until you’re completely satisfied and your legs can’t even function anymore.”
You were gasping for air, eyes screwed shut as you focused in on the strings in your body tightening enough to snap any godforsaken second. He used his other arm to shift you from your side to your back, his face right above yours as you involuntarily spread your legs even wider to grant him better access. He chuckled darkly.
“You look so fucking good all desperate like this.” He mumbled, slamming his digits into you as he watched your reactions. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I make you come.”
You struggled to focus but eventually your lids fluttered open, finding Wonwoo’s direct eye contact nerve wracking at first but soon realizing how much more intense it made everything feel. His finger curled once more and you arched instinctively, reaching a hand up to grip onto his muscular shoulder as an anchor.
“You like that baby?” He smiled slightly, eyes darkening with every small reaction you let out, you nodded quickly. “When you told me no one’s ever made you come I took that as a challenge, you know?”
You whimpered as he shifted to use his free hand to lift your top, nipples hardening as they made contact with the cold morning air. He took a moment to quietly admire their shape and size, but before you could begin to feel even slightly self conscious Wonwoo had leaned down to take one eagerly into his mouth.
You squeaked in surprise as the pleasure began to overwhelm you, your eyes screwing shut against your will and your mouth forming a giant ‘o’ as Wonwoo flicked his tongue around your breast, nibbling softly all while pressing his palm onto your clit.
“F-fuck!!” You cried out, moving your hand to grip the back of Wonwoo’s hair in encouragement. “Please please pleaseeee!! You’re gonna make me comeee!”
Wonwoo picked up his pace and sucked harder, causing you to scream out as all the sensations combined into a height you’d never even come close to replicating with your own fingers. You tugged Wonwoo’s head back suddenly to pull him off your breast, opting instead to pull him into a sloppy, messy kiss that was all tongue and teeth.
Your breathing staggered and an embarrassingly throaty noise escaped as the pressure finally burst into a feeling of complete euphoria. Your entire body twitched involuntarily and you groaned as Wonwoo pulled away from your lips to watch you ride through the sensation.
His fingers never stopped toying with your clit and his whispers of encouragement kept coming, creating an orgasm that felt more intense than anything you’d ever experienced before.
“That’s it baby, I want you to feel so fucking good, I want you to feel everything.” He muttered softly, not once slowing his fingers' pace. “I’m gonna make it so you feel this good whenever you want. You look so perfect like this, you’re so good for me.”
You whimpered when the stimulation grew too intense, and Wonwoo removed his fingers carefully. He leaned down to kiss you softly, sweetly and your heart fluttered at how gently he placed his hand on the back of your neck to pull you into it.
“Did you feel good?” He asked, pulling back to observe your face, scanning for any sign of regret or hesitation. “Was that okay for you?”
You breathed deeply, body limp with barely any energy remaining but you managed to nod enthusiastically. He chuckled and you immediately leaned in to kiss him once more.
“God, yes.” You murmured into his lips, using both your hands to pull him in deeper. “I could’ve probably come just from you speaking to me like that.”
He laughed heartily into the kiss and your chest warmed as he held you close, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You bit his bottom lip and prodded his mouth open, meeting each other's tongue once more.
A needy whine escaped your throat when his mouth's pace remained steady against your own, you decided that he was way too calm for how hard he had just made you cum. He finally let out a deep growl when you gripped the back of his hair tightly and you felt the corners of your lips quirk up into a satisfied smirk.
“I want you to feel good too…” you muttered in an attempt to be sultry, moving your hands down his body to graze his hard length. He groaned loudly, pulling you in tightly as you ushered him on to his back, moving to straddle him.
“I thought I told you.” He grinned and pulled back from the kiss, using his own hand to stop yours from unbuttoning his pants. “This is for you. You already came on my fingers, now I want to taste you.”
You tensed at the idea of Wonwoo putting his mouth on you, a spark of both excitement and nervousness flooding the pit of your stomach in a dangerous mixture. The instant pooling of moisture between your legs was your body’s own indication that it had no qualms with his suggestion, but Wonwoo could sense your hesitation almost immediately and sat up to look at you.
“I hope you know I would never do anything you’re uncomfortable with though, are you okay?” His concerned expression softened your resolve almost immediately, and you nodded your head.
“I’m okay, it’s just… No one’s actually ever done something like that to me, down there…” Your face reddened slightly and Wonwoo’s eyes widened in pure shock. “I'm just worried it might, you know, smell or taste weird or something.”
“So it’s not just that Si-woo was bad at sex, but he never even tried something as simple as that either?” Wonwoo questioned in disbelief, you nodded with an embarrassed chuckle. “… Two years together, and the guy never even thought about eating you out?”
You felt your neck beginning to flush at his reaction. “I asked him if we could try once or twice, but he was kinda grossed out by it. I just gave up on the idea after a while.”
Wonwoo’s jaw went slack in a mixture of horror and incredulity, and you couldn’t help a stray giggle from escaping as he didn’t even hesitate to flip the two of you around. Your back was once again flat against the mattress, and you bit your lip in anticipation as he wasted no time in pulling your sweats down.
“I’ve wanted to do this for three fucking years…” He muttered, his tone giving your arm goosebumps at how deep and serious his voice was. “The amount of times I’ve thought about how you might taste… And that fucker couldn’t even be bothered to— You know what, I’m not going to bring him up right now.”
Wonwoo leaned down to take your mouth in his for a desperate kiss, his tongue circling yours and tingling deeply as if cherishing the closeness and intimacy. He pulled away slowly, trailing his tongue down your cheek to your neck and up to your ear while nipping at your most sensitive spots.
“Right now, all I want is for you to think about how good I’m making you feel,” he whispered, you let out a pathetic whimper as he traced the outline of your soaked panties with his fingertips. “I want you to scream out my name while I fuck you with my tongue.”
He leaned back and pulled up your sweater, taking a moment to blatantly admire your chest once again before diving in to take your left breast into his mouth, his hand palming the other. You squeaked at the sudden stimulation, arching into his wandering tongue as he proceeded to lick lower, and lower.
His kisses peppered along the top of your underwear and you tensed, he looked up at you reassuringly and brushed his lips softly along your inner thighs, squeezing and licking. You held your breath in anticipation but noticed his kisses had softened as if to soothe your very obvious nerves. You held his gaze as he nuzzled his cheek into your thigh, he was very obviously waiting for your approval to proceed any further and all it did was turn you on even more.
“Please…” You whispered, nerves on edge and the heat in your stomach only growing hotter. You wanted him to rip your underwear off already, to finally feel what someone’s mouth would feel like down there. His warm breath grazing against your heat was already exciting you even more, and you held your breath as a teasing grin bloomed on his face.
What you weren’t expecting was Wonwoo to lick you directly over your panties, right where your lips were. Your eyes widened and a guttural groan left your throat without meaning to. The feeling sent an electric shock shooting straight down your spine, and you braced yourself as he teased you, pressing his hot mouth and wet tongue against the already soaked barrier of your underwear.
“Oh… oh my god…” you gasped, shocked that simply feeling his mouth kissing you down there could elicit such a strong reaction from your body. Your mouth was stuck open in silent screams as he finally pushed your underwear to the side and began devouring you without restraint.
You barely even recognized the noises you made as your own, mind going completely blank as your muscles tensed at the vibrations of Wonwoo humming into your pussy. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, lapping up from top to bottom, swirling his tongue and licking up every single crevice like he was a man starved.
It was an experience you’d never felt anything like before, your skin and blood on fire from the heat his mouth emanated. Every lick stoked a flame that burned hotter and hotter until you were practically chanting his fucking name over and over again.
“Fuckkk, Wonwoooo!!” You cried as his pace slowed down, his desperate slurps turning into long, slow licks right down your slit. The tip of his tongue circled the nub atop your sensitive folds and you were groaning at how you could feel him smirking into your cunt.
“Hmmm.. I love when you say my name~” He mumbled darkly as he continued to flatten his tongue over your folds, chuckling as you blindly reached for the back of his hair to steady yourself. “When you come I want you to scream it out for me, okay baby?”
You nodded exasperatedly, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head when Wonwoo decided to insert a single digit. You cried out as you felt your walls clench around it, the feeling of something filling you almost enough to send you over the edge. His pace quickened, and you swear stars blinded your vision once his tongue began to flick your clit in time with his finger.
If your brain wasn’t currently MIA you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he was about to make you come again.
“Pleaseeee, Wonu!“ you opened your eyes to look down and realized he’d been observing you the entire time. You arched helplessly and released a strained moan. “Please I’m so fucking closeeee!”
His speed picked up slightly at your desperate tone, but it was him inserting a second digit along with his tongue lingering a little too long over your clit that sent you finally careening over the edge.
And fuck did you feel weightless.
Your entire body shuddered, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your orgasm plummet you off a cliff and free falling into the air. Waves of unbridled pleasure crashed through you as Wonwoo continued his ministrations the entire way through it, and you heard in the far distance the sound of your own voice screaming his name out deliriously.
Your eyes opened to a blurry ceiling, your head and body still reeling from the aftermath of bliss you’d just experienced. Wonwoo remained between your legs, peppering soft kisses against your thighs and you couldn’t help the actual audacity this man had to be so talented with his tongue.
“Come up here before I ask you to do that all over again.” You pant out, completely spent and only half serious. Wonwoo smiled giddily and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“You might need to pry me away… Because fuck if I could eat this every day—”
You tugged on his shoulder insistently with an exhausted giggle, and he reluctantly came up to your side to wrap his arms around you. You burrowed your face into his chest with a content sigh, smiling to yourself as you timed your breaths to the sound of his heartbeat.
“Good?” He questioned as if he didn’t already know the answer, you scoffed but nodded anyway.
“Phenomenal, outstanding, unparalleled!“
“Same goes for how you taste~” Wonwoo grinned. “Delicious, exquisite, absolutely delectable—“
“Next time I want to taste you too~” You teased, tracing the outline of his muscles, watching them tense up as you neared his nipple. You looked up as his expression suddenly strained, and you mentally smacked yourself as you noticed his obscene hardness poking into your side.
“Please don’t worry about it.” He shrugged casually, snuggling you further into his chest with a happy cat-like grin. “Close your eyes, let’s enjoy the rest of the morning and sleep in.”
You frowned, you knew he was trying to allow you ample time to rest and recover. Two orgasms back to back was practically unheard of when it came to your sex life after all, and your body was definitely not used to it. But three years of sexual tension was a long time to wait, and you were not about to blue ball him after everything he just did for you.
“I thought you said you were gonna make me come three times?” You questioned boldly, reciting his words from earlier this morning. Your hands trailed down to the top of his sweats and you noticed his jaw clench. “First on your fingers, then your face, then your cock—“
His mouth was back on yours instantly, his fervent kisses already winding you up and sparking a dim heat in your belly once more. You knew it wasn’t likely for you to finish again, but you also knew your body was aching to feel Wonwoo inside you. It was a carnal desire that went past pleasure, you just needed him as connected to you as physically possible.
“We don’t have to, we can just relax if you want instead.” Wonwoo mumbled out as he pulled away from your lips. His eyes were dark and heavy but there was still enough clarity in them to show he was still able to control himself. “I know you’re tired, if this is just for me I don’t want you to feel obligated—“
“I want you.” You interrupt, watching his molten eyes dilate and most of the clarity disappear all too quickly. Your hand reached lower, gripping the hardness of his length through his pants and he inhaled a sharp breath. “I need you inside me. I’ve never needed anything more—“
It was the last confirmation he needed to hear before attacking your lips again, crawling above you while sliding his sweats off easily. You grinned into the kiss and let out a gasp as he prodded your entrance with his finger, swirling your clit with his thumb.
A mewl escaped you as your sensitive bud was played with gently, you released his mouth and he immediately dipped down to flick your nipple with his tongue playfully. He kissed and sucked at your breast until you were careening into him once more, a faint rush of heat pulsing in your core as he slid his finger inside.
“It’s so soft in here.” Wonwoo breathed out, his patience very obviously wearing thin. You shivered at the sound of his voice, knowing that he definitely felt the swell of wetness that came just from hearing him talk. “Are you gonna let me fuck you nice and good, baby?
You cried out at the overbearing stimulation combined with his words, moving your hips in time with his fingers thrusting inside you. He entered another digit and you immediately knew it wasn’t going to be enough.
“Put it in. Fuck!” You groaned as he put a bit more pressure on your still recovering clit. You felt him shuffle with his underwear, kicking it off somewhere that you couldn’t be bothered to think about at this moment. “Put it in me right now. Fuck a condom, I’m on birth control.”
Wonwoo stuttered in his motions and let out a shaky exhale, muttering curses under his breath as he tried to keep his composure at the new information. You needed him raw, you needed to feel every inch of him pounding into you and you needed it immediately.
You relaxed your body when you felt him lining himself up to your entrance, and you both moaned cohesively as he rubbed his tip along your folds to moisten it up. He pushed in softly, slowly, carefully as you felt yourself fill up inch by inch.
He was big. Not too girthy but exquisitely long, and the further he entered you the more you were shocked at how easily your body allowed him to slide right in. You could feel the veins pulsing alongside his length and your walls clamping down around him, effectively keeping him locked in place. The two of you breathed out deeply as he finally bottomed out, and you’d never felt more full in your entire life.
“Oh… fuck! Oh my god…” Wonwoo gasped shakily, his hand gripping your waist so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it was bruised in the morning. You groaned as you clung to his shoulders, itching for him to move already. “You’re so fucking tight… I can feel everything…”
“Wonwoo please…” you all but begged, he took one more deep breath and proceeded to thrust downward, resulting in an obscene moan from the both of you. “Please! Fuck meeee!”
Any semblance of self control remaining in Wonwoo seemed to have snapped at that, as he proceeded to drill you into the mattress furiously until you let out the most animalistic groan either of you had ever heard. It did nothing to quell the fervor in which he rammed into you, if anything causing his passion to escalate tenfold.
“Oh yeah? You fucking like that?” He grunted out, the slapping noises of your bodies meeting making you feel lightheaded. “You like when I fuck you like this? Raw and hard?”
You whined out and nodded exasperatedly, gasping as he paused to lift your legs over his shoulders, grabbing you by the waist to lift and pull your body up into his. A strangled cry escaped at the new angle, his length deliciously hitting you right in the sweet spot as he plunged himself into you full force once again.
“Tell me you fucking want it.” He panted out, a light sheen of sweat forming on his chest and his eyes locked in on where your bodies were connecting, in and out, in and out. “Tell me you want me to fuck you like this over and over again.”
You screamed as he brought his hand down to play with your clit once more, and you found yourself absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that you were yet again on the brink of orgasming for the third time this morning.
“Pleaseeee Wonwoo, I want you to fuck meeee!” You begged out, your words pitching up with every thrust he gave. His free hand reached down to play with your breast, your other one bouncing liberally as he proceeded to pound into you.
“You look so fucking hot like this…” He muttered, practically to himself which only fueled the ever growing knot in your stomach. “F-fuck!! I’m gonna—“
“Cum in me, pleaseeee fucking fill me up—“ You cried out, and it was the last thing both of you needed to hear before finally climaxing together.
If your last orgasm was like a free fall, this one was like being hit with a freight train. Wonwoo’s thumb on your clit combined with his last full force thrust shoved you over the edge so hard and fast you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. The added feeling of him filling you up simultaneously was so intoxicating that you swore from then on that you would always let him come inside.
Wonwoo collapsed atop you, panting heavily into your shoulder as you stroked his back, equally as breathless. The aftermath of your body spasms calmed down after a few minutes, your simultaneous heaving settling down into long, deep breaths.
Taking a second to gather some energy, you couldn’t help but wince as Wonwoo pulled himself out slowly and slumped to your side. You nuzzled up to him, throwing your weak limbs around his body and practically melting into the mattress. You heard him exhale loudly.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Wonwoo murmured tenderly, obviously still dazed and reeling. You let out an airy laugh.
“And now we have all the time in the world.” A cheesy grin grew on his face at your words as he squeezed you tightly, and you’d never felt more comfortable and safe than you felt in his arms at that moment.
“You’re right.” He smiled, gently stroking the back of your head. He ran his fingers through your hair sweetly, kissing your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut and his last words echoed in the distance.
“And I’m never letting another second with you go to waste.”
#seventeen#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen requests#seventeen wonu#seventeen masterlist#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo#wonu#wonu x reader#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#SVT#svt wonwoo#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt smut#svt scenarios#svt fanfic#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonu#seventeen reactions#seventeen smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fic#seventeen x y/n
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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.
I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.
A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.
"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.
She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"
"What's a tulip?" I ask.
"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."
"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.
I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.
"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.
I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.
It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"
I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.
"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."
I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."
We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.
I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.
By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.
Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.
When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.
After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.
I never see grunge girl again.
That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.
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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Part one
Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.
Under the cut⤵️
Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?
Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?
For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.
Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.
It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.
Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.
His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!
But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.
Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.
He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.
Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.
Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.
He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.
So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.
That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?
Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...
His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.
Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?
Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.
Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.
It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!
People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.
In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.
He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.
Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.
Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..
He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.
Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.
In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.
Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.
Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.
But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.
Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.
Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.
Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.
Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.
Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.
Uggh.
The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.
Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.
When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.
When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.
The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??
Freaking cursed.
Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.
One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???
Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.
It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.
If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--
He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?
He's going to get sick.
He needs to talk to Jazz right now.
____________
Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.
They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).
“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”
Jazz frowns
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.
“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”
Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.
“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”
Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.
“Mech, what the hell?”
“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.
Before thinking for a bit, and adding.
“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”
And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.
This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.
Prowl looks confused.
Jazz looks absolutely frantic.
“SWERVE????”
Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?
Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.
Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.
“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."
Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.
“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”
“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”
There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.
“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”
Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.
Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?
“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”
He pauses dramatically.
“The long version is...”
Jazz raises his hand
“What's a holoform?”
Swerve sighs.
“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”
Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl
“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“
Prowl hums
“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”
Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.
“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”
Jazz laughs
“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”
“ I was.”
Prowl frowns.
“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”
“.... I had a lot of practice...”
Jazz claps his hands.
“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”
“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.
Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused
“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”
“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”
“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.
Swerve blows the hair out of his face
“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”
Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.
“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”
Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets
“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”
Prowl twitches his door wings
“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”
Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.
He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.
He's thinking.
Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!
Then he remembers the mess he left behind.
Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.
Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”
“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”
Jazz looks...puzzled.
“Is that bad?”
Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...
“It's...complicated.”
This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...
And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...
Hahahahah oh fUCK.
He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.
It's also probably too late.
But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.
And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.
Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face
“ That expression you have...”
Swerve puts the smile back on his face.
“I need to get to Earth.”
___________________
Swerve is not an idiot.
Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.
He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.
Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.
The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.
He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....
Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.
“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”
Swerve laughs.
“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”
“It's not harmful?”
Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.
“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”
Jazz tilts his head
“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”
Swerve bites his knuckles.
“ I have some unfinished business?”
“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”
Swerve only laughs in response.
_______________
Concentration is tricky.
Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?
Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost
Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.
What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.
He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.
The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.
After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.
He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--
Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.
This is the place where he was last.
He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.
Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.
Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.
Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.
All right.
He's got things to do.
_______________
He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?
He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.
He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.
Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.
All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...
He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?
The answer is probably none.
Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.
A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.
Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.
Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.
Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.
Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.
It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.
He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.
It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.
Blurr's name isn't there.
So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.
He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.
That's...something's wrong.
He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”
Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.
“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?
Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.
Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”
This is it, Swerve thinks.
He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.
He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.
He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.
Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi
Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.
Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.
Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.
Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.
Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.
“'Got bored without me Swindle?”
Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.
“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”
Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.
“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”
Swindle adjusts his glasses
“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”
“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.
Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”
He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.
Goes back to his seat.
“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”
He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.
“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”
Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again
“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”
Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.
“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?
Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose
“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”
Blurr blinks.
“Why are you telling me all this.”
Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.
“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”
Blurr's eye widens
“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”
“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”
Blurr runs his fingers through his hair
“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”
Swindle puts his hat back on.
“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”
The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.
Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”
They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.
“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”
Blurr smiles sourly.
“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”
Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.
“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”
Blurr bites his lip.
“I..don’t know...”
Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.
Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.
Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.
The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.
The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.
Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.
Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.
Ah, damn it.
Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.
And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.
Blurr ... is crumbling.
Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.
But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.
He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.
And continues to act like a jerk of course.
The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.
Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.
When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.
Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.
It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.
It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.
Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”
Investors say, “I think he likes me.”
Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”
Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.
Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.
On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.
Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.
Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.
Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.
Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.
But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.
It makes a difference. Small one. But still.
It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.
From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”
More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?
There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.
While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.
After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.
“Good show.”
Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.
“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”
Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.
Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.
“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”
Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.
“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”
Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.
“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”
Blurr freezes.
No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't
“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”
Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.
“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”
Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.
Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.
“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”
Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.
“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”
Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.
“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”
He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.
“You are broken. I can fix you.”
Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.
“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”
Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.
“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”
Blurr flinches.
“I don't need your help.”
“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”
...
“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”
Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.
____________________________
Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.
Holy shit...
Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm
“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”
“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”
Jazz laughs
“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”
Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.
“Ah...”
“So it worked?”
“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”
Jazz rubs his hands together happily.
“I'll take it.”
Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.
He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.
He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.
Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.
Left to himself.
He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.
....
Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?
He looks at Jazz and Prowl.
“You two get along really well.”
Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.
“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”
Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.
On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.
_____________________
”Are you a ghost?”
Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.
He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?
“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”
Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.
Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.
“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”
Blurr squints amusedly.
“You can walk through walls?”
“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”
He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.
“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.
Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.
“ Show me more?”
“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”
“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”
Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.
Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.
“They really drugged you huh?”
“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”
He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair
“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”
Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.
"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?
Race???”
He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???
Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket
“I won't.”
He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.
“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”
Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.
“Well...at least you're alive....”
Blurr shakes his head.
“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”
“...”
“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”
Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.
Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.
“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”
Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.
“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”
“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”
Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...
Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.
“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”
“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”
Swerve stiffens.
“I...Wwhat?”
“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”
He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues
“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”
Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.
Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.
“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”
“You'll tell me later?”
Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.
“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”
---------------
Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.
“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”
Swerve snorts.
“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”
“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”
Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.
“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”
Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.
“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.
Swerve laughs.
“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”
_______________
His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.
He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.
They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.
Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.
Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.
Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.
Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake
“Mind some company?”
Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.
“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”
Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.
“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”
Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly
“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”
“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”
Pharma tilts his head
“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”
Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.
“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”
“What do you mea...”
“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.
“No I'm just...”
“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”
“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”
Swerve shakes his head.
“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”
“Wh..”
Blurr rolls his eye.
“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”
“Wait..”
“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”
Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.
“Can at least one of you shut up??”
Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner
“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”
He raises his eyebrows knowingly
“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”
Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.
“…..Wha....there's rumors?”
“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”
He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself
“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”
Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.
“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma
Swerve shrugs.
“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”
Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.
A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.
“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”
Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.
“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”
Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.
Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.
Then he reaches out his hand to him.
Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.
Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.
Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.
Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....
“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”
Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.
“You're real???”
Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him
“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”
Blurr shrugs.
“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”
Swerve twitches.
“Third??? How are you still standing???”
He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.
“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”
Blurr laughs quietly.
“I'm glad you're back.”
_____________________
He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.
When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.
“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”
“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”
Jazz smiles
“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”
“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”
“Worried about what your human friends will think?”
Swerve swings back and forth on his heels
“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”
Jazz frowns
“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”
“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”
#maccadam#tf mecha universe#blurr#Swerve#mecha writing#mecha kef writing#mecha bs writing#if you saw any mistakes - no you didn’t#it’s six am I need to go to bed but I wanted to post it before my brain shuts down completely#mecha pilot jazz au#jazzprowl#jazzprowl happens on the background lol#Swindle#two nano seconds of Vortex#Shockwave#Pharma
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Ok but what if Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu were the same person.
Little YQY is used to little baby SJ being a little strange. He talks about missing 'the internet' and one night when they almost freeze to death he solemnly informs YQY that "this transmigration experience sucks, 0/10 would not recommend."
As they grow SJ stops talking about odd things, but since he never explained about his past life to YQY he doesn't realize SJ is forcing himself to forget those memories of being warm and safe and happy because they hurt too much now when he is none of those.
The System is still there if course but since LBH isn't even born yet it's in low power mode. But that night locked in Qiu Manor after YQY leaves it pops up with a notification he's finished the 'Sorrowful Parting' quest and he loses it.
He alternates between insisting it doesn't exist and demanding to know why it only shows up when something bad happens to him. The System explains this is all necessary character development before he meets the main character.
SJ rages, not because he's not the main character but because he apparently needs to suffer for them, this person he's never met. Eventually the System turns off all notifications except essential ones, and that at least leaves SJ mostly alone in his own head.
And he takes that buried ache of his past memories and that he was apparently born to suffer and uses them to save himself when YQY fails him. Even though he promised. And he's fine- look, he's a Peak Lord! He's fine.
Until LBH turns up at the peaks, the System lights up for the first time in a decade, and SJ looks at this little boy and hates him. SJ can't see him without thinking about all the hurt he suffered, which the System insists was necessary for this boy's story.
So he does all those horrible things to LBH that he railed about as SY a lifetime ago and doesn't regret it. (PIDW is mostly lost to him, buried under the trauma, he doesn't know who LBH is, or who he is)
Until the qi deviation, which wipes all his memories except the ones he has buried. So he feels like he's a different person. He thinks he's transmigrated in late because he can't remember being 5 and teaching YQY carmeldansen.
A week after the deviation YQY hears SJ mutter something about Google and he relaxes, he does recognize this SJ after all.
Meng Mo pulls the memories out of SY's head after all. For all that SY draws the line between himself and SJ as different people he still remembers SJ's memories. But crucially not the ones from when he was little where his past and current lives overlap the most.
Sometime after the series ends SQQ is humming something modern- my heart says 'Never Gonna Give You Up'- and YQY casually mentioned he's always liked that one most of SJ's songs.
SQQ: What songs?
YQY: The ones only you know. You used to sing them all the time when you were little.
SQQ's head is spinning and he finds some privacy and questions the System which confirms he did in fact transmigrate as a baby like SQH did.
The memories come back slowly after that. He remembers telling LQQ he'll kill him after a bad fight, street kid him trying to explain to YQY what a T-Rex is... exactly what was going through his head when he dumped a cup of hot tea on an orphan he'd just met.
And SY has to deal with the fact that yes actually, that was him. That wasn't some other asshole. It's him, he's the asshole. Maybe that was the worst possible version of himself, maybe he got a second chance and changed for the better - but it was still him, and he's still capable of being that man again if he isn't careful.
#this would absolutely effect his relationship with LBH but this post was already so long#svsss#shen qingqiu#shen jiu#shen yuan#svsss au
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it's been a year since i lied to you and told you that yes ive moved on so can we please be friends again. can you really blame me? i thought getting good at suppressing our memories from that one month meant moving on. i didn't know that i would feel a lump in my throat when you called me suddenly in the middle of a sunday even tho the plan was to talk once a week and we had talked only 3 days before. i didn't know i would feel butterflies in my stomach when i heard your laugh so close to my ear, but can you really blame me for being reminded of you giggling talking about the logistics of kissing on your study table?
but it's been another year since we've talked on the phone. those memories are so distant and blurry and full of light and happiness that i can't even believe they happened to me, it feels like they happened to a different person. so you don't have to worry, because ive moved on now.
remember when i used to tell you that i miss you so much i can't think about anything else, that i spend all my day reading our old chats? and you used to say, you need to stop and there are other people in the world? well, you don't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable now. i passed the exam i failed because i was too heartbroken over you. i go to tuitions and then i go to internship and i come home so late that all i do is eat and sleep. ive been doing better these days.
and you were right, there are other people in the world. but do you know, i asked a girl to come watch barbie with me, and she made a disgusted expression and said she'd already watched it and she hated it? this happened after we shared a coffee and realising we live next to each other and finding out that she watches kdramas and i listen to kpop. so surprising isn't it? someone who probably understands toxic masculinity and gender roles are fucked up still has internalised misogyny in her? nobody can compare to you, you lecturing me about feminism in tenth standard and your little book club with assigned reading as a thousand splendid suns and you having tears in your eyes showing us harry styles with pride flags in his concerts and you being mean and blunt saying i need to talk about my internalised homophobia. im starting to think you were one in a million and i was a fool to lose you, and an even bigger fool to have had you back and then lose you again.
but do you understand now? you told me you didn't, two years ago. i asked you, don't you understand that i was going crazy dealing with my psychotic family and i was depressed and tired and couldn't talk? and you said no, you're sorry, you really don't, you don't understand how someone can not share why they're sad to the person they supposedly love the most in the world. as i was writing this, daylight by taylor swift started playing. ironic, isn't it? there are many memories ive tried to erase from that one month, but this one i cannot forget- me coming into your room the night we planned and asking you if you're sure about this and is this like an experiment thing a oh what's kissing like thing or is it a we're in love with each other thing, and you smiling softly and saying girl yes i am sure it is one hundred percent a we're in love thing.
ive been getting better at sharing my sadness with my loved ones. my parents haven't stopped fighting, my dad shouted at my mom today morning because my brother lost the car keys, but it's okay, ive learned to tune it out. he only lives here for half a month, he stays somewhere else the other half so it's been easier to bear. my sister moved out, finally. ive been sad because of it but i know she's obviously happier there so it's okay. we have a neighbor and they have this tiny tiny annoying si kid she always comes to her house after her mom scolded her to sulk and watch tv with us. how is your little sister doing? i think of her when our neighbor devil comes. and how is your mom doing? are they settling in well to the new city? and how are you doing? have you been okay? we don't have to be exes trying to be friends again. but can't we just be childhood friends (if age 15 was childhood) who drifted apart briefly but found their way back to each other? please?
but it's okay, if we can't. cause like i said, ive moved on.
#it's 2:29 am and i can't sleep#do you get sad on these specific dates too? probably not cause you don't remember dates well#30th july my exams ended 5th of august we had a sleepover with our mutual friend it was the last time we were ever okay before i fucked#it all up permanently it was the last time you let me kiss you in the balcony last time you let me hold your hand tho you pulled away under#the pretense that you were cold. i still don't know if you were really cold or just mad at me#fast forward 28th august you said we should end this and i didn't put up a fight i just said okay if that's what you want#sept 12 we again had a sleepover and you let me rest my head on your shoulder for the last time ever and i rmbr not watching the movie at#all just silently wiping my tears on your shirt#and was it sept 21? you left here forever and you said you'll never come back to this shitty small town and you've kept your word#all of this probably makes you think i haven't moved on at all right?#but i have because i know that the person in my memories no longer exists and i have made my peace with it im glad it happened#and i also know i don't know anything about the person you are today#but id like to know#and you have a tumblr so if you're reading this and you maybe miss me a little too#text me?#okay bye kuch zyada hi bol diya#messages i can't send
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Dear My Dear -
an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow
At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…
*now what?
Its lore time. omg theres so much-
The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.
THE BIGGER PICTURE
This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.
I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.
Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.
ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…
Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.
(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)
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my dear wingdings,)
Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.
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you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)
Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-
Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!
(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)
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i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)
the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans
The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.
Or if Wingdings just became him.
A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.
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i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)
2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.
The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things
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but i cannot live like that.)
Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.
Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!
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and it seems you cannot live any other way.)
another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.
I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”
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when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)
When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.
As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.
But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!
He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**
Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.
Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”
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i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.
Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.
The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.
Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.
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theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)
Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying
“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego
I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.
Thats the good man within him
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you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)
the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.
The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.
Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later
Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-
Its not that deep…but still-
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i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)
CALL BACK!!!!!!
Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.
As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.
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i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)
GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!
Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.
cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out
EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and…hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…
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and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.
- your brother
As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!
Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.
Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.
the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.
FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!
weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day
also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!
Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.
un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-
well I mean that-….. hm…
does that…? hmm, well….
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Hope everyone is having a good Tuesday <3
#vent#I’m uh. definitely feeling some sort of way haha loolollol#I’m having sooo many thoughts rn is a </3 not feel good hooho#I had to make myself eat a snack less I starve for the following hours#waow what a lovely way to spend valentines: alone at school. alone at home. alone at dentist. then alone at home again <3#hm hm it’s ok it’s been like his for as long as I remember#I just have only recently become aware of it#and acknowledged it#*ahem* well uhm <3 anyways ahahshgoo#what was I tryna say uhhmm. valentines today#it’s a day that exists definitely lol hmm ya idk what happened for me to think like this again but here I am since. 6am </3#hohoooho bro wtf why am I suddenly so desperate for people and relationships and attention and commitment#wagg I just got overly fucked up over losing a friend in 2018 and just haven’t been the same since </3 just slightly worse </3#hm I keep on thinking about all my misfortunes thru life and all the instances that. looking back on. were me being bullied </3 sosoo havaga#yeaa. friends don’t pull out chairs from under you and make you cripple yourself from hitting your tail bone </3 and they don’t confuse you#on whether or not they like you for entire week </3 and they shouldn’t ignore you when your sitting in the backseat with bird shit on your#head cus you were the one thing in an entire empty parking lot that made a good target for a bird </3 and they don’t laugh when you get your#face obliterated by basketballs and kickballs and soccer balls and softballs and volley balls and foam balls etc.#and they don’t. ignore you. fasghgshsh okay that’s enough of that I’d rather not feel anything and I often wish to have never been close to#anyone because I’m only left with bad hollow memories when they aren’t around anymore#gghoovo g h iugghq guugg what mental illness is it when your head and face is hot from thinking lots#but your body is cold and unfeeling from lack of feeling#idk mAnnn#jus vibinn jus thinkin and vibin#I’ll be ok I’ve made it this far yknow and I don’t think I have any permanent physical damage so 👌#can’t say the same for my neurons lol but they’re still kickin
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I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.
[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]
“Are you sure ?” she asked.
I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.
“Why do you ask ?” I say.
“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”
That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.
I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:
There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.
I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.
And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.
Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.
Or did it ?
Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?
But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?
“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”
Neither do I, RIGHT ?
Oh
Or do I ?
Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?
How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?
And what do we say to that ?
Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.
Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?
All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.
No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.
No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.
And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.
If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.
To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.
And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.
So I’ll explain very carefully.
See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.
And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.
I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.
Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.
Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.
#lgbtqiaplus#ftm#trans#transgender#mental illness#trauma#tw trauma#tw psychophobia#psychophobia#tw psychosis#lgbtqia#genderqueer#ftx#trans rights#actually psychotic#psychotic disorders#psychosis#psychosis mention#neurodivergency#trans mental health#queer#transmasc#trans issues#psychodivergency#mad pride#insanity#anti psychiatry#psychiatry#actually mentally ill#madpunk
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I recently learned that a particular sub of mine still had some conditioning from a while back that hadn't been used in quite a while, specifically that she had a bit of a tendency to become incredibly dazed and begin dropping into trance when presented with a cock (though, talking to her afterwards, she doesn't think that this conditioning would activate for most people). I learned this through a tiny bit of teasing on a call, when she saw my wonderful Bitchbreaker through the shorts I was wearing, her eyes rolled back and her tongue came out. Learning that on its own was very interesting. More interesting was just how effective this conditioning was, just how deeply she dropped from such a small tease, from only seeing it through my clothing. Naturally, seeing the effect that already existing conditioning had on her was quite a "blood in the water" moment for me, and, with her permission, I continued. After teasing her a bit more by showing off, it became incredibly clear that she was very, very suggestible in this state. I took my fingers, made a circle, and told her that however far down those fingers were on my girlcock, that's exactly how much she'd feel thrusting into her mouth. With her eyes rolling back and her tongue out, she took that cock like a wonderful, adorable little slut, so much passion and energy pouring into this imaginary girlcock fucking her face over and over and over. When it leaked and I told her to lap it up, she did, she was so empty, so mindless, so focused on serving this perfect Bitchbreaker, and I decided to have a bit of fun, to break my pathetic bitch a little more. I made her choke on it, put the whole thing down her throat as roughly as I could over and over, watched her drop even deeper with every single thrust, and reinforced this particular little piece of conditioning, just a bit, making it stronger, making it apply to my tits as well, making it easier to activate, even if she just saw me playing with either through my clothes she'd begin to feel the effects. Watching her empty little head take all of that new conditioning in with so little resistance as she kept mindlessly serving was absolutely wonderful. And of course, I couldn't just leave things there. I had her listen to me. I told her that, if she did a good job, if I finished in her mouth, she'd simply fall asleep. She'll get a nice little taste of Mistress, of her sweet, irresistible girlcum, and then she'll sleep for me. And she did such a good job, following along, listening, and when I finished, I simply told her to sleep for me. Her tongue twitched, lapping it up just as she had done earlier, and she collapsed onto her bed. I ended up staying in this call with her for a bit after that, just staying nearby, whispering little affirmations, until I was sure she was properly asleep rather than just in trance. Afterwards I left the call, left her a message telling her I hope she had enjoyed herself, and about an hour and a half later, I received a message from her saying that she had woken up covered in drool, and that her memory of what had happened was fuzzy at best, (which is rather interesting because I had never given her any commands related to memory during this, but regardless, it was incredibly cute). I'll admit I haven't done sessions that intense, that explicitly sexual (and especially focused on my own body) very often, but it was very, very fun. Seeing her eyes rolled back for that long, her drooling and sucking on a part that wasn't even really there with so much passion, it was wonderful, and I need to do something similar to her in the future, because the look that adorable, pathetic bitch had on her face made me want nothing other than to find ways to break her in even more.
#t4t nsft#hypnok1nk#hypnosis#hypnodomme#brainwashing#mind control#t4t ns/fw#trans nsft#t4t hypno#fem domme
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୭ 𝗔 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9c34c2f70632e5dc07a8b46e7a062301/fd99c0a2de048e50-32/s540x810/dca458f53cffa04ea2bb648d8730f9a8e20da1be.jpg)
୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled
୨୧ Ok, so, I realized this would be TOO long, and I decided I'll turn it into a little series, this will all be mostly fluff, I hope you like it ;)
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
Ekko stood just outside the bustling doors of The Last Drop, his fingers brushing against the worn metal frame. He should go inside. But his feet felt rooted to the ground, as if stepping through the threshold would make this dream—this impossibility—permanent. His head ached, pounding from the sensory overload of it all.
Zaun was alive.
Not just scraping by, not the grimy, cutthroat existence he knew from his world. This Zaun thrived. The sunlight poured into the streets, and it wasn’t muted by the familiar haze of toxins. The air was clean, crisp even, and the people walking by wore smiles so wide it made his chest ache.
No one carried weapons. Children darted through the alleyways, laughing and chasing each other without a care. There was no shimmer-induced violence, no crime, no constant fear. It was… wrong.
He took a deep breath and stepped inside, the familiar ring of the bar’s bell announcing his arrival. The sound brought with it a rush of memories—the Last Drop wasn’t a place for laughter in his Zaun. But here?
Laughter echoed off the walls, bright and unrestrained. His stomach churned.
Near the bar, Silco leaned against the counter, with a glass in hand. He was laughing—Silco was laughing, that man had ruined lives, poisoned Zaun with Shimmer, and killed countless innocents. And now, he stood here, calm and smiling as if his sins had never existed. The sight nearly sent Ekko spinning. Vander was there beside him, his booming voice and broad grin like something out of a half-forgotten dream. They clinked their glasses together, joined by Benzo, whose hearty chuckles filled the room.
Benzo.
Ekko’s breath hitched. He’d never thought he’d see his old mentor again, not in this life. But there he was, as real and alive as the air filling his lungs.
The sound of scraping chairs brought his attention to the two figures approaching him.
“Yo, Ekko!”
Mylo’s voice. Ekko’s stomach twisted again. Mylo and Claggor—older now, but unmistakable—waved at him, wide grins plastered on their faces. They strolled over like this was an ordinary day.
Except it wasn’t.
Not for him.
“Where you been, little man?” Mylo asked, clapping a hand on Ekko’s shoulder like they hadn’t been dead in his world. Claggor chuckled, adding, “Thought we’d have to drag you in here.”
Ekko’s throat tightened. It was surreal talking to ghosts, and his eyes darted between them, searching for something—anything—to ground him. They were so casual, so alive, as if they’d never been stolen by the explosion. The undead boys said something about going to get their drinks and that they would be back in a moment, but their words were white noise against the pounding of his heart. It was as if ghosts had stepped out of the past, solid and warm.
Ekko struggled to keep his breathing steady, his gaze darting between the faces he had mourned and buried in another life. He had thought he’d moved on. He was wrong.
“Are you all right, my boy?” Heimerdinger’s soft voice broke through the fog.
The old yordle was there too, standing on a stool at the far corner of the bar, his ears perked up.
“No,” Ekko admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”
Heimerdinger nodded knowingly, as if he had expected the answer.
“Adjusting to a reality that isn’t your own can be disorienting, to say the least. But don’t worry. We’ll sort it out soon enough.”
The cheer in his voice was almost infuriating. Ekko wanted to demand answers, to ask what exactly had happened and why he was here, but before he could say anything, the bell above the door jingled.
The air shifted.
Ekko turned instinctively, his senses on high alert.
What walked through that door wasn’t danger or threat, but it hit him just as hard. A little boy, no older than six, darted inside with a burst of energy, his laughter echoing like a bell.
His heart stopped.
He looked just like—
“Dad!”
The high-pitched voice shattered his thoughts, and a small body barreled into him. Ekko stumbled back, his arms instinctively wrapping around the boy who had launched himself into his chest.
The little boy looked up at him, a bright, joyful grin lighting up his face.
Ekko froze.
The kid had his eyes—wide and curious—, his hair, even the same nose, the same cheeky smile. It was like looking into a mirror of a younger version of himself.
“Dad?” he repeated, his voice barely audible.
The boy tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. It was a gesture so familiar it sent a chill down Ekko’s spine—you always did that when you didn’t understand something he was saying.
That was Wyeth. His baby. Except he wasn’t a baby anymore.
“Wyeth…” Ekko whispered, his voice cracking.
The boy beamed.
“That’s me!”
It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him.
“Look at you, big guy,” Mylo teased, coming up behind him with his drink on hand. “You’re gonna be taller than your old man in no time.”
Wyeth giggled, the sound light and carefree. Ekko stared at the three of them, his throat dry.
This was wrong. It was all wrong.
Why didn’t he remember any of this? Why didn’t he see Wyeth grow? Why did it feel like he had been robbed of something so precious that his chest ached with the loss?
“Little Wyeth causing trouble again, huh?”
Claggor laughed.
“Like father, like son.”
This wasn’t his Zaun. And this wasn’t the Wyeth he’d cradled in his arms just days—or was it hours?—ago in his world.
“Papa?” Wyeth’s small hand tugged at Ekko’s collar, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Ekko blinked, swallowing hard.
“Just… thinking.”
The door opened again, and Ekko’s breath caught again.
You stepped in, radiant and full of life, your eyes scanning the room before landing on Ekko. Time seemed to slow as you approached, the crowd parting instinctively for you. You looked different. Less burdened, happier, but still undeniably you.
Your gaze moved between Ekko and the boy, and you set your hands on your hips.
“My love,” you began, a stern edge to your voice. “What did I say about helping Wyeth with his inventions?”
Ekko blinked, caught off guard. He struggled for an answer, but Benzo stepped in with a sheepish grin.
“Don’t look at him, it was me,” Benzo said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Kid’s got a knack.”
Your brow furrowed, a mix of exasperation and affection in your expression.
“Your innocent grandson broke a window with that innocent rocket, Benzo.”
Mylo snorted with laughter, only to catch your pointed glare and immediately fall silent. Ekko couldn’t help the corner of his lips twitching upward. You were always like this, commanding a room with little more than a glance. Even here, in this strange world, you hadn’t changed. But as he stared at you, a sinking feeling tugged at his chest. This wasn’t the you he knew—not exactly.
You turned your attention back to Ekko.
“He’s grounded,” you said firmly, then softened. “Where’s Violet?”
For a moment, he thought you were talking about Vi—his Vi, the fierce protector who had been his friend and hero.
He faltered.
“Vi…?”
Before he could stumble over an answer, Claggor spoke up from behind him.
“She’s with Powder.”
Powder? That name didn’t fit the person he knew now. Powder was long gone, buried beneath the chaos of Jinx. And yet, here, it seemed to mean something else entirely.
You raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle shift in Ekko’s demeanor.
“You okay?”
Ekko forced a smile, though his heart felt heavy.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just… tired.”
You reached out, brushing your hand against his arm in a gesture so familiar it sent a pang of longing through him.
“We’ll talk later,” you said softly, your gaze lingering on him before you took Wyeth’s hand and led the boy toward the back of the bar.
You're going to have a serious talk with that little one about his recklessness.
Ekko watched you go, his mind racing. This world was a dream come to life, a version of reality where everything he’d lost had been restored.
But it wasn’t his world. He has to go.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
tags: @moonlight-dreamer04 @serena6728 @kriss-w @sturngs @iloveavatar @chaeisbroke
You can ask me to tag you in future chapters if you want! 😸
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