#which I have experience with because me and my roommates share a few accounts

[glitterandmoondustofficial]

Had a thought while mopping the kitchen that in modernish AU (I don’t really agree with the modern AUs where there’s no magic, that’s lame) and Yrelia had already moved in with Gale, he would 1000% buy Yrelia that really expensive brand new steam mop that she had been eying for months but won’t buy due to hesitancy to spend money.

He gives it to her as a gift for like a birthday or holiday and his family is like “did you really just give your wife cleaning supplies for her gift?” but then Yrelia is so happy that she’s nearly in tears and she kisses him all over his silly face.

[minas-linkverse]

Hi again 😃 I was wondering if you would feel comfortable with kinda elaborating on paranoia ( I think you said you have it yourself?) this is the first time I have seen it represented in media properly, and have also lately been questioning wether I have it or not, as a person with adhd and autism. I’m not really sure how to phrase this well but if it’s okay with you do you have any tips/parts of paranoia that could maybe help me in my consideration on wether I have it or not (I would get an assessment btw ) Please please don’t feel any pressure at all with sharing, having such good representation already in your comic is epicly awesome already and I don’t think people should have to do stuff that they are not comfortable with sharing.

I love your comic, your art and greatly appreciate your representation it’s so cool and awesome , sorry for the long ask I hope you have an nice day 🤩👋😃😊

I wasn't planning to answer this ask but I am in an odd mood tonight and felt it might be beneficial for the both of us. 👍

I'm also autistic, but I think my paranoia also mixes with my OCD, so that may make my experience appear different. I also have never been diagnosed with paranoia, but it is a symptom I've often discussed with my therapists over the years.

For me it has been present since I was around 12, when I would struggle to take the dog for a walk because I feared the air was poisonous or a sniper would shoot me down. (I live in a country that's not had any kind of shooting for decades.) Honestly I'm not entirely sure what caused those, besides the fact I had a lot of unchecked anxiety. I started going to Therapy at age 13.

A lot of things happened between then and age 15 or so. Including my OCD manifesting and a few years of emotional abuse inside my home.

Since then my paranoia has fed my OCD many ideas to use to cause me compulsions. Possibly more relatable-- it has also turned into periods of hyper-vigilance, which is a state where a person is hyper aware of their surroundings and constantly looking for threats and escape routes.

Thankfully all of the above mentioned symptoms have gotten better for me with years of therapy and hard work. Although I will likely be living with them for the rest of my life, it's more like a bad roommate than a danger.

Some advice I can give to anyone who relates to what I've said here is to research things, especially hearing personal accounts can be a huge relief. Another thing is to not ask yourself "What's the worst that could happen?" but "Whats the most likely thing to happen?" It's simple but very helpful.

But yeah, my understanding is that it's more of a symptom alongside other disorders, but I'm not a professional nor have I studied this stuff. My sources are experience and 10 years of therapy. I highly recommend seeking out a professional who gives you a good vibe with their presence.

Also others are free to add to this! ✌️ I'm sending my support to anyone reading this.

[scarrabear]

QUOGAN HEADCANONS PART 1

Hi hello <3 first time post from me on this account. I realized I had a lot of thoughts of my own on these two dweebs and I LOVE reading everyone else's thoughts, so I'm being brave and sharing my own. :)

Yes it's long and there will be a part 2. I talk a lot lol. Feel free to send me asks or recs if you want more :)

While Secretly Dating

They would text each other every single morning with Logan saying things along the lines of "good morning beautiful <3" and Quinn saying "good morning cutie :)". Sometimes these messages would cause them to giggle and/or blush leading their respective roommates to question what they were looking at.

Meetings at their secret hiding spots would take place nearly every morning, in between most classes, and every night. This was both of their favorite parts of the day because it's where they could talk, flirt, vent, and yes, make-out. (Michael & James notice that Logan always shows up to their first class completely giddy and when they try to tease him about it, Logan simply shuts them down with a snark comment.)

While at meals with their friends, the two would secretly try and play footsie or touch fingertips under the table.

Around the second or third month of them secretly dating (show canon: in-between Coffee Cart Ban and Chasing Zoey), they start experimenting with kissing, i.e, French kissing, necking, ear kisses, and even leaving small hickies. Quinn is the one who wants to try the latter to which Logan was nervous, excited, and turned on. Hesitant, they leave small ones on areas of the shoulder that can be covered by sleeves. Logan really likes having his ear nibbled and neck kissed especially while Quinn touches his head. Quinn realizes she loves being spoiled with kisses all over her face and neck.

Sometimes after basketball practice, if Logan is sore Quinn would insist on giving him massages.

Logan realizes how turned on he gets whenever Quinn talks about science or shares a fun fact. One day Quinn is helping Zoey fix her Jet-X and Lola almost catches him drooling.

Yes, dating Quinn doses cause Logan to improve his grades. This is something he does willingly because he truly wants to be the best version of himself for her. I imagine the first Michael & James walk in on him truly studying they are visibly shocked. Every time Logan gets an A or B on an assignment he proudly tells Quinn to which she is equally as ecstatic.

^^ Quinn also finds Logan studying hot.

They leave little notes for each other in their backpacks or textbooks.

For prom, when they agree to take different people as dates, Logan begs Quinn to tell him what color dress she plans to wear because he wants to match his pocket square. (You can see in the show that he's wearing one to match even while he was with Stacey.)

Openly Dating: JR Year Summer

Lola/Zoey and Chase/Michael/James sat Logan down separately and made sure his intentions were not to take advantage of Quinn. Both of those sessions lasted about 5 minutes until they realized that Logan was truly in love with her.

Yes, their friends (lovingly) teased them about their relationship. Lola and Zoey made sure to shut down anyone around campus that judged them or made harsh remarks.

Chase and ESPECIALLY Michael were beyond happy for them (Michael apologized for laughing in their faces when they tried to tell him they were dating months ago).

Logan cried when Quinn went back home to Seattle.

Quinn asked to take one of his t shirts with her back home to which Logan requested one of her jackets.

They spoke on the phone every single day, usually in the morning and at night. Quinn liked to fall asleep to the sound of his voice.

Quinn works as a camp counselor for a science day camp for children.

Quinn visited Logan (Malcolm Reese & Chauncey remembered her which made her happy) mid June for a week to which she got to meet Lyric (age 5-9 years old) for the first time.

Quinn brought Lyric a few Magic Tree House books and a mini science kit as a gift.

While in California, Logan, Mr. Reese, and baby Lyric showed Quinn around Los Angeles (movie sets, Disneyland, museums, and shopping.)

Logan and Quinn take Lyric to see Kung fu Panda in theaters.

Lyric is immediately fond of Quinn and wants to be as smart as her. She even draws a picture of Quinn as a scientist and gives it to her before she goes home.

It makes Logan's heart all fuzzy and gives his stomach butterflies seeing Quinn and Lyric interact.

Malcolm and Chauncey catch Logan drooling over Quinn multiple times and never fail to tease him.

Logan takes Quinn on a romantic dinner date on the beach and gives her a heart necklace that has their initials and the date they officially started dating engraved.

Quinn gifts him a portable hand held mirror that she quinnvented before she arrived. The mirror also has his name engraved along with the date they shared their first kiss. It has adjustable lighting and various settings such as a zoom feature and background blurring to focus more on his reflection.

For 4th of July that summer, Logan visits Quinn and her family in Seattle. She was nervous at first because her house is notably smaller than what he is used to but Logan was quite happy and comfortable and assured her that he didn't care about her wealth.

Logan is nervous as hell to meet Quinn's parents and her Bubbe (she had to explain to him the meaning of the word and is surprised and flattered how much Logan wants to know about her family's history.)

The Pensky family shows Logan around Seattle and he's shocked at how cool the Washington air is. He loves the trees and the mountains. His favorite activity is going whale watching.

Bubbe teaches Logan some of her Jewish recipes. The two form a close bond.

Quinn shows Logan photos and videos from her beauty pageant days but he's more interested in seeing the collection of her childhood science experiments.

SR Year - SR Year Summer

Logan replaced the photo of himself he normally kept on the dorm wall with one Bubbe took of him & Quinn in Seattle. (They're smiling at each other while he's hugging her from behind.) On the wall next to his top bunk are a collection of smaller photos. Some of just him, some of just Quinn, but mainly solo ones of Quinn.

Quinn keeps a mini scrapbook in one of her bed cubbies that has her favorite photos of Logan and notes that he wrote her from last year.

Lola & Vince break up at some point which leads to Lola & Zoey having a moment where they are jealous of Quinn & Logan's relationship. They get over it...eventually.

Quinn is granted early acceptance into Caltech and Logan takes her out to celebrate (also they make-out in a hammock)

Logan gets into UCLA on his own accord (his dad did not buy his way in) to major in business and minor in chemistry. PCA's head chemistry teacher wrote Logan a stellar letter of recommendation. He also took a few science ACTs (and did exceptionally well) at the beginning of senior year to help boost his chances.

For Logan's birthday, Quinn gifts him his own golf club set that she quinnvented. The clubs are perfectly designed for his height, grip, and other golf terms I don't know enough about.

For Quinn's birthday, Logan rents out sushi Rox for the night and and throws a surprise party for her. He has the party end 30 minutes early so he and Quinn can have the place to themselves so they can slow dance. Michael plays the flute for them.

For their one year anniversary, they have a moonlight picnic. Quinn makes him a personalized cologne (one of you lovelies said this and I 100% agree!!!) and his own zap watch but with baby settings with their anniversary date and the message "I love you" engraved.

Logan bought her a personalized lab coat, a designer lab bag, and dozens of flowers.

They do it *stream ChloexHalle* on their anniversary weekend in Logan's dorm room (he paid Michael & Chase to stay out of the room that night).

They're both nervous at first but as soon as they're in each other's arms, love and a whole lot of lust takes over. All they want to do is please the other.

Quinn is obviously valedictorian and her speech makes Logan the proudest he had ever felt up until that point.

Logan sent Quinn's mother and Bubbe flowers for mothers day (to which he would continue to do in the future)

In the summer, Quinn visited Logan's family again for a week to which Lyric was beyond excited.

At night, the two would sneak into each other's bedrooms for intimate moments. This is when they would really discover their pleasures and what they like/don't like in bed.

So yeah. Thanks for reading if you got this far!!!!! Sending everyone love <3

[sa7abnews]

My roommates and I share groceries. We all bulk shop for our apartment and save $300 a month.

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/11/my-roommates-and-i-share-groceries-we-all-bulk-shop-for-our-apartment-and-save-300-a-month-2/

My roommates and I share groceries. We all bulk shop for our apartment and save $300 a month.

My roommates and I bulk shop for our apartment and share groceries.René MorrellI'm a Chicago-based creative in the art world and restaurant industry.I have two roommates who also bulk shop and share groceries with me.Our system may not work for everyone, but it aligns with the values we were raised with.This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with René Morrell. It has been edited for length and clarity.Even with the nuances in our experiences, my roommates and I were all raised in households emphasizing the importance of community and resource sharing.This common value, which we've maintained as important in our adult lives, allows us to share our food and other resources in a cooperative and communal way.My roommates and I started sharing our bulk groceries around 2018, but my journey with sharing bulk groceries began even earlier. A couple of years ago, I worked for a nonprofit, and during my time there, I started a program where we gave food to families in bulk. That experience really piqued my interest in implementing bulk grocery sharing in my own home.We may have different titles, but we're all creativesI'm a creative with a somewhat split life between the food service industry and the art world. I work as a server in Chicago, where I was born and raised and still live. In 2023, I graduated with a BFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.My two roommates are fellow creatives, and we knew each other before moving in together. One of my roommates is a fashion designer, and I actually have a familial connection with my other roommate, who's a makeup artist. We've known each other since we were teens.Being creatives, sometimes we don't always have the money to compensate each other financially. I might log in to my account and find it's negative. To foster a safer environment at home, we've transitioned into doing more of a barter system over the years. The barter system not only makes sense for us, but it also helps us avoid creating food waste, which we all take issue with.We all contribute to our bulk grocery-sharing routineWe all participate in our bulk grocery shopping and sharing routine and shop at a few different stores, so there's variety in what we bring into the space. One of my roommates, a fashion designer, juices, so he buys a lot of produce in bulk at places like Costco or even restaurant wholesale stores he has access to. A lot of times, he makes juices for the entire house, but sometimes, he makes specialized juices just for himself.My other roommate, a makeup artist, gets bottled water and grains from Trader Joe's, Pete's Market, or sometimes even food pantries for the house. I'm the meat buyer of the house and tend to shop at more mainstream grocery stores.My last bulk grocery run was to Jewel-Osco. I honestly think they partially created their app because of me. I'm always giving feedback related to their customer experience. In the past, the app would not include accurate information on the items specific locations had in stock. The app has thankfully gotten so much more user-friendly compared to how it used to be, which is particularly important to me since I don't drive or have time to peruse around the store leisurely.Sometimes, I use the app for pick-up orders, or if I'm in the store, I can search the app for blueberries and see the different types of blueberries and the deals they have, so I know exactly which kind to grab. The last time I used the app, I saw they had great deals on filet mignon. It was marked down from $11 to $5 a pound. There was also an additional sale on meat that was around 30% off — I left with six steaks for around $30.Since we began bulk shopping and sharing our groceries, we save around $260 to $300 a month.Depending on how much we save in a month, some of our bulk shopping money will go towards collective household bills. For example, if I make a bulk purchase of meat and end up saving $60, I'll take that $60 and think of it as free money to be put toward our bills. Our system has shifted as we've figured out what works best for usSince starting, we have tried different methods of splitting our groceries and paying each other back to figure out what works best for us. Sometimes, we send each other money directly, but we'll often also do things like compensate each other with produce of an equal amount. For example, I really enjoy passion fruit, and sometimes, it can run $3 a piece, so if my roommate who enjoys juicing, wants to give me passion fruit in exchange for the steak I just bought, that would be fine.Although we primarily use the barter system, we do still make grocery purchases that are specifically for our personal use unless we check-in with each other first. Between our constant communication and learning more about each other's habits over the years, we're able to pretty easily identify when certain items are not for our bartering system. For example, I will sometimes make dishes with truffles, and my truffle products are primarily off-limits. My other roommate, the makeup artist, buys items that specifically contain prebiotics and probiotics to help with occasional stomach issues. In other words, when we open up the refrigerator and see truffles or a probiotic drink we all know who it's for.I realize our system would not work for everyone or every household. Some prefer to navigate life as more of an individual, and some like to work with others, but only if there are very clear-cut rules. It all comes down to your group's core values. Our core values lie in supporting our community and making sure we all have the resources we need, and that's what we try to model in our home.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Otherworldly Lovin’

Pairing: Alien Taehyung and Human Reader

Word Count: 6,319

Genre/Rating: NSFW - Alien AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Smut - PWP - Fluff - Rated R

Overview: Not only did he crash land into your yard, but he also crashed right into your heart...among other places.

Warning: oh boy. Alien sex - masturbation - tentacles - light bondage(?) - throat fucking - breast and nipple play - oral sex (fem and tentacle receiving) - Taehyung has the ability to extend his tongue - size kink - Taehyung can change his dick to any size - there’s slime from said tentacles - multiple orgasms - multiple penetration - breeding kink - cream pie - tiddie fucking(it’s a tentacle mushed between boobs having the time of its life if that counts?) - unrealistic sex - hentai, it’s basically hentai - swearing - dirty talk - maybe some sub (fem) and dom (Tae) undertones if you squint - cum play - talk of pregnancy.

Main Master List:

Wish Upon a Star Collaboration Master List

Tagging: @thedarkwinterrose​​ @thatlongspringnight​ @ggukcangetit​ @ezralia-writes​ @hidinginmycupboard @ifntelyinspirit​

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

The breeze felt like chilly kisses along your skin during the late-night walk home. It had been fun to see your friends, but as the house party grew in numbers and space became limited, that was your cue to head out before there had been a visit from the men in blue to break it up.  It wasn’t Cara’s first time throwing a party that climbed into the triple digits, and despite being on a first name basis with law enforcement in regards to her wild parties, it wouldn’t be her last party.

Kicking at the gravel, you gathered up the hair off the back of your neck with both hands, leaning back your head to look up at the night sky while still walking. The stars were bright, brighter than diamonds, and not for the first time you found yourself grateful that you had made the decision to move to the outskirts of Arizona. Was it hot? Of course. Were people behind the wheel absolutely insane? Fuck yes. Was it risky living on your own, in the desert, in an area where crime was going up again? Extremely. Maybe it was childish and stupid, but between the sunsets and mother nature’s natural landscape, it was all worth it in your eyes.

By the time you reached the front door, you barely glanced at the ten-foot ditch that was only a few feet from the side of your house as you went inside. The ditch hadn’t always been there, and as you turned the three set of locks behind you, a cooling sensation wrapped around your calf to begin its ascent up your bare leg.

“How was the party?” it asked.

You raised an eyebrow, unphased with having a conversation with the green blob.

“Alright,” you said, holding out a hand for it to jump on to like it usually did. This time, it simply shook its little nub of a head. “I mean, it was nice to hang out with her and have a few drinks, but her house filled up fast.”

“And it’s not good for humans to be surrounded by so many people?”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you walked to the kitchen, feeling him climb up to your knee this time. “I mean, it can be dangerous when there are over a hundred people partying in a small house while intoxicated, a lot of people don’t care though.”

“But you care.”

“I do.”

Opening the cabinet, you pulled out a glass and went to the water cooler to fill it up, dropping in a few ice cubes for that extra chill, trying not to think about how cooling and enticing it felt to have the little alien crawling up your bare leg, nearly reaching your thigh. He was a slow mover but he got around.

It was this little green blob, no taller than a hand, who had been the one to create that lovely ditch in your yard, and had succeeded in scaring the absolute shit out of you at four in the morning when it happened. The last thing you ever expected in the world was for aliens to be real – yes, you had been one of the many who was a non-believer – but Taehyung had been the one to convert you quite quickly.

“You don’t look like an alien,” you said, watching as the green, see-through blob slid around on the kitchen table.

“And what does an alien look like?” it asked.

“A crap ton taller,” you immediately answered, rubbing your eyes to try and see just how it was able to talk, let alone have a voice. You could see the wooden chair that was behind it, and there was nothing inside of it. It was just a blob about the size of a softball, from space.

Apparently, that offended the creature, as it suddenly formed two small nubs – what you assumed to be arms, which were promptly placed on its side - and a nub on top for its head. “Excuse me, I don’t know what it’s like here, but where I come from, it’s extremely rude to point out someone’s size. And I’ll have you know; On my home planet I am quite larger than this.”

You blinked.

Maybe it was because you were still wondering if you were insane to be talking to a green blob claiming to be an alien, but a sudden pang went through your chest at having hurt the little guy. Sighing, your footsteps papped against the tile floor as you pulled out one of the chairs at the table to sit down.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, leaning your cheek in the palm of your left hand to look at it. “You’re right, it was rude of me. Let’s start over. What’s your name?”

It stared up at you. At least, you assumed it was as it turned its body to face you. For a moment, the green blob stood there until finally taking a few steps towards you.

“Taehyung.”

These last few months had been an unforgettable experience, but it would be a lie to say that it hadn’t made life more interesting. The ship he had been flying in was a small metal contraption that could have easily been mistaken as a toy drone. At his request, you had brought it in the house that next morning, and after inspecting it, Taehyung announced it to be completely damaged, but not unfixable. Since then, there had been several times where you stumbled upon him trying to form the arms that he needed to try to patch it up himself, but the crash had forced him into his smaller form for protection, and made it impossible to expand himself the way he needed to.

Only a few days into his stay, you learned that his people – the Flubbers – were similar to that in regards to human height and features. Unlike measly humans, they were able to turn their bodies into this green blob at will, but mostly it was used as a defensive measure to protect themselves or when they were traveling in their small ships. As a result of the crash, Taehyung had trouble returning back to his regular form and with nowhere else to go, he became your new roommate.

But as he began to crawl underneath the fabric of your shorts, the coolness of his body was enticing in more ways than one. Your breath turned shaky as you hurried to reach down and remove him from your thigh.

“How was your night?” You suddenly asked, not wanting him to question why you removed him.

He tilted his body, but settled down in your palms. “I watched more of those shows on your Netflix account.”

“Which ones?”

“Black Butler.”

You gasped, narrowing your eyes at him as you carried him back to your room. “Come on, we were supposed to finish that together.”

“But you were gone, and I wanted to watch it,” Taehyung only remained still for a few more seconds before stretching out himself to begin crawling up your arm.

It was perhaps the weirdest sensation in the world, but it reminded you of the end result of making slime when you were back in college and your roommates dragged you out to the craft events put on by campus. Taehyung was sturdier, more solid, and less gooey. Okay, he wasn’t gooey at all. But as he crawled his way around your arm and shoulder, you were suddenly awfully aware of the fact that you were only wearing a skimpy black tank top with spaghetti straps, allowing him to feel every inch and curve of your body and soak in your body heat. He was naturally cool but he usually warmed up after crawling on your arm for a while.

The fact that he was crawling up to you wasn’t unusual. Tonight however, it was like he was attached to your body and trying to feel every single part of you.

“That’s not nice,” you murmured, shakily inhaling as he slid a tendril-like arm across your neck, his body slinking across your chest. You kicked off your shoes and glanced at your reflection in the full-length mirror. Cheeks flushed, throat bobbing as you swallowed, and you could see that he was forming another limb, stretching it out to wrap around your bicep.

“You said I could watch whatever I wanted. And I wanted to watch Black Butler.” Taehyung said.

In the mirror, you could see his small head glance down, his body suddenly pausing at the discovery that there was something underneath your shirt. He was an alien. Since his arrival, you made sure to get dressed in the bathroom so that he didn’t see certain things.

In addition to that, you hadn’t been entirely sure if he slept or not, so you had created a small bed for him on the floor of your bedroom out of a box you had and thrown in a bunch of soft towels to make it comfortable for him. He seemed to enjoy it since he slid to his bed every night, even tucking himself underneath some of the towels. So not only had you been sharing a room with an alien, but these last few months had been incredibly, touch starving, especially since you were single. It wasn’t like you could suddenly make yourself feel good when Taehyung was right there and would probably ask what you were doing and why.

And now…now you were feeling incredibly horny.

You watched him create another limb, only to close your eyes to feel it softly slide down your sternum, heart racing as it followed the curve of your breast, your pussy clenching around nothing. A second – or was it a third? Maybe a fourth? - limb slipped underneath the shirt to encircle your other breast, but this one was more curious, feeling the size and tightening around the boob when it suddenly ran over your nipple. You stumbled back against the foot-board of the bed until you sat on it, accidentally pressing yourself against the frame and hitting your clit, resulting in an audible gasp.

His limbs suddenly retracted at the sound and before you could stop yourself, you whined at the loss of them only to realize what you had done. He was an alien. You were a human.

“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung asked.

You shook your head, opening your eyes to remove him from where he had wrapped himself around your neck and set him on the bed. Not once did you glance at the mirror, already knowing how flustered you looked. “No, I’m fine.”

“Then what was that sound?”

Damn him for being so curious. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go to bed? I’m going to get dressed.”

Before he could ask another question, you grabbed the spare bed and hurried to the bathroom, taking several deep breaths when certain that you were, in-fact, alone. Not once during these last few months had he touched you like that, and now that he had, you found yourself craving more. It reminded you too much of those hentai videos you occasional stumbled upon while on the hub, and as you hurriedly kicked off your shorts to slip your own hand underneath your panties, you softly moaned when you felt how wet your panties were.

He had created those limbs like it was nothing. Easily curling and wrapping himself around you like second nature, and as you ran your own finger over your clit to take care of yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what he would have done had you let him crawl up your shorts like he had started to do. Taehyung typically kept himself in the shape of a blob, but you were certain that he would have no issue in filling you up completely.

You pressed yourself further against the wall, another soft moan escaping you. Eyes closed, you were so focused on getting off, that you missed how underneath the doorway, a flat green blob slid its way underneath the door. A limb shaped itself, watching your general direction like it was absorbing your reactions, only to disappear the same way it came when you were satisfied.

A few nights later, you sighed as you shifted under the blankets once again. The fan had done its job and made the bedroom chilly, but you still couldn’t fall asleep. You tried warm milk, listening to instrumental music, counting sheep. Nothing seemed to work.

“You’re not sleeping?” Taehyung asked.

You glanced at the box on the floor, seeing his towels shift as he moved around. He hadn’t spoken about what happened the other night and neither had you, and for that, you were grateful. He was a friend. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the only friendship he had while he stayed until his ship was fixed.

“Just having a hard time,” you softly answered.

He was quiet for a moment. “Would you like to talk about it?”

A soft chuckle slipped out of your lips and you rolled over, holding a hand out over the edge. In seconds he was wrapping himself around the limb and crawling on to the empty space next to you.

“Do you miss it?” You asked, slipping an arm underneath your head. “Your home? Your friends and family must miss you a lot.”

“Parts of it,” Taehyung admitted. For being a small green blob – or a small green Flubber – he had a deep baritone voice, and when he spoke softly, there was a calming effect that washed over you. It was the type of voice that not only promised protection, but had the power to be absolutely sinful. “There’s my family and friends that I do miss, but it was a strict place. We’re not a species that was intended to survive you see. A long time ago, the very first of my kind had been created here on your planet by someone…a doctor Jacob, Philip, or Robin, someone at least made a mistake, and from that the first Flubber was born. Over the decades we’ve evolved and managed to repopulate ourselves, but even I can’t remember how we managed to leave this planet and end up on our own. Some poor Flubber had probably been somewhere he shouldn’t have been.”

He shifted and for some reason, if he had facial features right at that moment, you could imagine him lifting an eyebrow with the smallest of smirks. “That’s why our society is strict. We were a mistake yes, but we quite like being alive and would rather keep it that way Flubbers are expected to do as they’re told and I wanted to explore. To see other worlds and galaxies. Granted, crash landing in your back yard was not at all part of the plan, or ruining my ship, but things have had an unexpected way of working out. After all, I did go off in search of the unexpected.”

Gently smiling at him, you nodded in agreement, wetting your lips. “Do you think you’ll go back? Once you fix your ship and explore for a while?”

“Good question. Maybe. I’m not entirely sure. The human race is, well…you people are certainly the most complex creatures I have ever met. I could spend a century here and still be trying to understand everything.”

You rolled on to your back with a laugh, feeling him slide his way up onto your stomach, the sensation sending shivers running through your body since the night shirt rose up at some point. Glancing down, Taehyung stretched a limb out, running it along your waist.

“Humans are very complex,” Taehyung repeated, his voice turning husky as if this was affecting him as well. “Complex, but perhaps, the most fascinating of all creatures to exist.”

No words came from you. Once again, your breath was stuck as he extended his other limb and you watched it crawl its way underneath the shirt, this time rubbing itself right over the nipple. Like he had memorized your reaction to it last time. You shakily gasped again, but you didn’t stop him. You could barely think, unable to look away as his body shifted, expanding itself to a larger version of himself.

“I’ve been practicing to regain my normal form,” he said. “It’s been hard, but I believe I can finally go back and stay in it permanently again.”

The two short nubs he had for legs elongated and thickened with his body. No longer was he a small blob, but he was taking on a new shape. One that was leaner, taller than you, and for the first time, he was gaining features that individualized him. The more he changed, the less green and see through he was. Instead, it turned into a very dark green tint on sun kissed skin, with dark brown eyes delicately painted with streaks of green. Looking down at you - like you imagined - a smirk had found its way home on his face while at the same time, a thumb harshly squeezed and rubbed against your nipple again. You moaned and leaned back into the pillow, wanting him, wanting more.

“Like I said before, us Flubbers are very similar to you humans, only we have…something extra.”

“And what’s that?” You forced out; eyes closed as another moan slipped out when his hands grabbed both breasts. He didn’t need to answer though, because as he played with your chest, something wrapped around your leg. It was similar to his limbs that he normally curled along your body, just as cool and thick to the touch. The thing making its way up your thigh was nearly forgotten about when Taehyung suddenly yanked off the shirt you were wearing, not wasting a second to kiss and suck at your breasts.

Chest heaving, it was impossible to think straight. Parts of your body had chills running across them while others felt hotter than the desert. He wasn’t letting up. Once satisfied, Taehyung gave his complete attention to the other, determined to leave behind a purple and wet path of where he had been. Every now and then there was sharp pain, but he was quick to quiet your whimpers by running his tongue over the marks and leaving a sweet kiss. The thing that had been crawling along your leg was at mid-thigh when it tightened, drawing your attention to its existence when suddenly, something else was sliding inside of your shorts.

Your eyes immediately opened and when you looked down, common sense went out the window as you swallowed the saliva building up in your mouth, pussy clenching. The limbs that you were used to seeing were back. One was coming out of the middle of Taehyung’s back, another appeared to be coming from his side, and as you watched, two more were forming and extending themselves. Unlike the rest of his form, they were completely green, nearly see through.

“We call them Extenders,” Taehyung murmured as he left thick kisses on your skin. “Extra limbs to help carry items and with everyday tasks.”

He lifted his head, eyes searching yours as his eyebrow quirked at you. “But I believe the term that you’re more with, is, tentacles.”

Oh. Oh, you were absolutely fucked.

A soft whimper slipped out when the tentacle that had been sneaking its way underneath your shorts purposely rubbed hard over your underwear. Taehyung must have heard it because his grin widened, and his Extenders were moving your legs to cage him against you.

“Usually I’m not like this,” he continued. “I think my body is still adjusting to this planet but thinks I’m back home. During this time of year, this is normally our season when we mate. That’s something you humans don’t have here, do you?”

Despite how much you wanted the tentacle to slip underneath the underwear, it stayed right where it was, content with teasing you. “We do that whenever we want,” you finally answered. Your gaze met Taehyung’s just in time to see his eyes light up in curiosity.

“Really?”

An ache was growing the longer you remained empty, and if the Extender underneath your shorts continued rubbing the way it was, you weren’t going to be lasting much longer. So, without caring about the consequences, you cupped Taehyung’s face and kissed him deeply. The sudden action allowed the tentacles around your legs to loosen just enough for you to wrap them around his hips, pulling him closer to you. Something thick pressed against your pussy, much larger than the other Extenders growing out of him, made both of you groan at the sudden pressure.

“Mate me,” you breathed out in-between kisses. His form was solid like a human, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through the locks. “Please Taehyung, please mate with me. I’m begging you.”

For a moment, Taehyung just stared down at you. Even the tentacles that had been sliding along your body paused at your words. It only lasted for that one moment. The corner of his lips curled upwards and the green streaks in his eyes darkened before he kissed you again, pressing himself completely against you.

Taehyung’s normal form may have appeared human, and besides the tentacles that moved on their own and were currently crawling their way up your sides and arms, it seemed that he was able to extend not just them, but every part of his body. The kiss was a frenzy from the start, and when the tentacle finally slipped underneath the underwear like you wanted and began to rub your clit earnestly, butterflies swarmed as your lower belly tightened, the orgasm that had been building was now forced from you.

He abruptly broke the kiss and pushed himself up, his hungry gaze running down the length of your body as you gasped in the fresh air. There was no break for you because he ripped away the remaining clothing and threw your legs over his shoulder to lick at your pussy. You lost track of how many tentacles were wrapping along your body, barely noticing that it wasn’t Taehyung holding you open as he ate like a starved man. Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes from over-stimulation, but when he suckled at your clit and something long entered your pussy, you cried out in pleasure at finally being filled. It was different from the tentacles caressing your body, more tapered and thinner, and when your walls squeezed around it, Taehyung groaned and every vibration sent your nerves into overdrive.

Glancing down at him, you realized that what was inside you was not another tentacle. There were two green Extenders holding your legs in place, and one currently held your wrists together bound above your head as numbers four and five slid along your body. One of them curled around your chest, leaving behind a slippery green slime in its path that felt cool to the touch as the other made its way closer to your face. You dropped your head back down on the pillow and tried to lift your hips to grind against Taehyung’s face, but a harsh suck made you gasp and stop all movement.

The tentacle reached your face, lazily poking your cheek until you rewarded it with undivided attention. Its movements were gentle as it traced the shape of your lips, the slime it left behind smearing across your face elicited a moan from the alien that was on the receiving end of you being turned on. This was one wet dream that you had never thought would become a reality, and now that it was happening, you didn’t want it to stop. Relaxing against the bed, you wet your lips out of habit before opening your mouth. Like you hoped, the tentacle went in to inspect this new place.

It was slippery as you ran your tongue against the tentacle, discovering it had some weight to it, and the slime that it oozed was sweet like the honey you used in teas. Out of curiosity you swallowed around the limb. A strangled groan came from Taehyung, and it twitched within its confines but didn’t try to remove itself. The more you sucked, the more it appeared to lubricate itself, forcing you to alternate every so often.

“Fucking hell,” Taehyung moaned. Sitting on his knees, he gazed down at you with eyes dark enough to appear black, those green streaks bright enough to glow in the dark. He was finally able to see what his tentacles had gotten themselves up to while he had been busy having his own meal, his chin wet as his tongue shrunk back to normal size.

Taehyung stared at you as the tentacle went further in your mouth, his chest heaving when you relaxed yourself to take it even further. All of the tentacles tightened at your actions, but his gaze went to your chest where one Extender had succeeded in wrapping itself around your breasts to squeeze them together and was currently rubbing itself between the small space, creating a slippery mess that made your skin tingle until it was numb.

“Look at you,” Tae murmured, lowering himself back down to your lower half. “You’re a mess darling.” He kissed your hip sweetly, quite the contradiction to everything else as one of his tentacles was in the midst of thrusting itself down your throat. Butterflies fluttered when he kissed his way across your belly, following the path of slime that had been left behind until his lower half was firmly pressed against yours, his hips grinding against yours so his cock rubbed along your lips.

“An absolute, fucking mess.”

You were so used to the jokes and pleasantries from Taehyung that to hear him swear, to call you darling as he rubbed himself against you, to have him use you as he wanted, it made your head spin until there was nothing but pure desire and need on your mind. He had already gotten you to orgasm twice without cumming himself and you still felt empty. He had yet to give you what you really wanted.

He went higher, not stopping until he was leaving wet kisses on your throat. “Such a beautiful, fucking, mess, and we’re not even done. Think you can keep up with me and my friend’s darling?”

The tentacle pulled out of your mouth then, allowing you to sharply inhale as Taehyung wiped away the string of saliva connecting you to it. He was patient as you caught your breath, amusing himself by continuing his kisses up to the back of your ear. Strands of hair were plastered to your forehead and despite everything, you felt more alive than you ever had.

 “More,” you softly whispered, throat a bit sore.

Taehyung softly hummed. Palms trailed up your sides, smearing the slime all over and up on your breasts, not caring that there was a tentacle obsessed with loving them.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” Taehyung taunted. There was a shift in his hips and this time, the head of his cock was now pressing against your pussy.

You tilted your head, capturing his lips in an open mouth kiss. Out of habit you tried to wrap your arms around his shoulders, but the Extenders tightened around your wrists. He didn’t even try to coax his tongue in your mouth. He slipped in with ease and you groaned when you realized that you tasted yourself on him. His hands settled on your hips and this time, to your pleasure, he pushed his cock in. The stretch stung but after finally having him in like you wanted all along, it satisfied the ache of being empty that had been growing since this all started a few nights ago.

“Fuck,” Taehyung groaned, knuckles turning white from his grip on your hips. “So different. You’re so warm.”

His cock moved but his hips remained pressed and still against yours, drawing your curiosity to look down. Taehyung had pushed himself balls deep, but you felt his dick changing within you. It was growing thicker, longer, and when he pulled back to thrust back in, you gasped as the new ridges that were along his shaft. He was accommodating himself to fit you perfectly. A one true fit that was made just for you.

The green in his eyes flashed, the tentacles still wrapped around your body tightened to hold you in place as Taehyung’s pace picked up, the ridges rubbing against your inner walls with each stroke became more prominent. You closed your eyes as you pressed back against the pillow, and when there was an eager poke at your lips, your mouth simply opened for the tentacle to slip inside. You were just as eager; the honey flavored slime was addicting to the taste. It was only when there was new wiggling pressure on your clit that you looked down, past the tentacle that was fucking your tits with a newfound passion as it tightened around them to make the space smaller, to see that there was a new Extender rubbing itself on your clit. The pressure was enough to make you moan, legs shaking even in Tae’s grip, but as you watched, it appeared that it didn’t plan to stay there very long. With every thrust from Taehyung, your pussy grew slicker, allowing this appendage to nudge its way into your pussy alongside his dick, all while still rubbing against your clit with each thrust.

Your cry was muffled, the stretch almost becoming overwhelming when more tentacles appeared to cover your body in an attempt to soothe and draw your focus away from the pain. Two more latched themselves on your nipples and by some magic he was able to shape them into mouths that pinched and sucked the same way Taehyung had done earlier. Another two appeared in the palms of your hands with similar ridges to his cock, and not wanting you to be too empty, a thinner tentacle slipped inside your mouth as well. You were completely and utterly stuffed, and had lost count of how many of them there were now with all senses on haywire as your nerves felt like lava with his every touch and yet, somehow, something was still missing.

The headboard thumped against the wall as Taehyung went faster, almost erratic as he chased his own high that he had been holding back from. In the darkness of the bedroom, a green light radiated from Taehyung and the Extenders that were wrapped around you, and when his gaze locked on yours, even his eyes took on the faintest glow. It was otherworldly. For a brief moment, everything slowed around the two of you as the tentacles in your mouth suddenly removed themselves. He swooped down to replace his lips where they had been, his kiss sweet and gentle as he cupped the back of your neck.

A chill racked through your body as the tentacles hugged your body, but your mind was focused on the softness of Taehyung’s lips, and how they made your heart flutter. For a split second, he pulled back to press his forehead against yours while murmuring a foreign word. Despite not knowing what he said, you softly hummed and brushed your nose against his, making him smile. He tried to kiss you again but kept breaking out into a smile that you found yourself unable to resist.

It was when he recaptured your lips in a kiss that the glowing grew brighter, lighting up the room completely. A tingling sensation ran through your body, the temperature skyrocketing as beads of sweat dotted along your skin. Taehyung thrusted one last time, his hips hilting against yours as he reached his release filling you with a green tinted substance that also spurted out of the tentacles, coating your body in goo. You would have been grossed out, but the cum that oozed out of his tentacles along with the slime from earlier was cooling to your feverish skin.

You moaned into the kiss, the Extenders that had curled and twisted around your arms suddenly dropped down to the pillows spent and exhausted. Now free, you were able to tangle your fingers through his hair. Neither of you cared how the goo dripped down your wrists or matted itself in his locks when he leaned down to leave several kisses on your cheek among the sweet words of endearment that he whispered along your skin. This gentle and tenderness was reminiscent of the Taehyung you had known while he was still in his blob form.

All of his Extenders had released you from their grip, simply resting themselves on your bodies before Taehyung called them back. You had gone to kiss him once more when his hips pressed further against yours, his dick still inside you as some of his cum spilled out from around him and down your thigh.

“Shit,” Taehyung murmured, glancing down at where the two of you were still connected.

You softly chuckled. “Is mating season usually this messy?”

He looked back up at you, a boxy smile appearing. “Sorry about that. It’s meant to ensure a successful mating, which entails with the female being pregnant by the end of the season. But it’s never been this pleasurable before.”

Even though you had never met a female Flubber in your life, a sense of pride flashed through you. You weren’t his first apparently, but you were the first to make it feel good at least. “Does that mean you have kids back home?”

“No,” he shifted his weight, lifting an arm to shove his fingers through his hair and off his forehead. “I had only come of age five winters ago, and it’s expected that Flubbers who participate for the first time are not likely to have a successful mating. This would have been my sixth attempt.”

“Sixth attempt?” You asked, leaning your head back against the pillow.

Taehyung carefully sat up. He was mindful this time of his dick keeping his cum inside you, the last thing he wanted to do was risk losing another drop. “When there is a successful mating, the two Flubbers then join in unity until their deaths. If they can produce children the first time, then they’ll be able to have another successful pregnancy next season.”

“So, if I get pregnant, you’ll stay?”

The room fell silent. The glow that had been emanating from Taehyung dimmed now that he was no longer caught up in the moment of his orgasm, but you could still see the way he pressed his lips together. One of the tentacles curled around your arm once more, slightly squeezing you in a gentle manner that reminded you of a hug.

You didn’t want Taehyung to go. Even before tonight, you had enjoyed his company greatly, and if he were to leave, who were you going to finish watching Black Butler with? There wouldn’t be anyone who would spend hours asking about what it was like to be human, who offered help around the house, or would tell you stories about what it was like where he was from. Even going to bed wouldn’t be the same without his check ins, wondering if you had enough blankets, a glass of water on the nightstand, and not so casually reminding you that if you scrolled through your phone until three in the morning again, you’d be cranky when having to go to work the next day.

It wouldn’t be home without Taehyung.

“Actually…” his fingers dug into the fleshy bits of your thighs, his thumb moving in circles as it rubbed some of his cum into the skin. “I was hoping that I could stay. Even if you never got pregnant. If…if that’s okay with you of course.”

Not able to really move, you stroked the length of one of the tentacles still on you, watching Taehyung’s body shiver at the touch. “Nothing would make me happier than that Tae.”

His thumb stopped moving, the green streaks in his eyes once again brightening as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. The Extenders came back to life then, each one slipping underneath your body in a tight hug as Taehyung lifted you off the bed when he stood. Your legs squeezed his waist but he merely laughed.

“What are you doing?” You asked when he carried you to the bathroom. With the help of one of his tentacles, the light flickered on.

He lightly nipped at your collarbone. “If you hadn’t noticed yet darling, I am still lodged inside you, and we are covered in various liquids. We are in desperate need of cleaning ourselves.”

Glancing in the mirror behind Taehyung, you were finally able to see the result of tonight’s love fest. The slime had left a clear green tint that had dried down to your skin, and the release of his cum had even gotten in your hair. Tae had not been lucky either and was fairly covered in the goo himself.

“Besides,” he murmured, recapturing your attention as the water from the shower head suddenly turned on. You however, were focused on the way his eyes darkened and his smile curled into a sneaky grin that sent your heart racing. “Like I said earlier, my body is still adjusting and thinks that it’s mating season here. This is not a one-night occurrence my darling.”

One of his tentacles roamed over your chest, paying particular attention to your breasts as Taehyung stepped into the shower, the hot water only seeming to help his Extenders in their movements. At least with a shower, the result of this round of love making would be easier to clean than your stained and ruined bed sheets.

[bellakitse]

Today April 21st is AML World Awareness Day, and I thought I would share some facts about it as a survivor.

AML stands for acute myeloid leukemia. It is a type of blood cancer in which the bone marrow makes abnormal myeloblasts (a type of white blood cell), red blood cells, or platelets. While AML is the most common type of leukemia in adults, it is still fairly rare overall, accounting for only 1% of all cancers.

Key Statistics for Acute Myeloid Leukemia”

The American Cancer Society’s estimates for leukemia in the United States for 2020 are:

About 60,530 new cases of leukemia (all types) and 23,100 deaths from leukemia (all types)

About 19,940 new cases of acute myeloid leukemia (AML). Most will be in adults.

About 11,180 deaths from AML. Almost all will be in adults.

For percentages purposes, that’s 56% of the people diagnosed not surviving this illness, with only 1 in 4 of all AML patients reaching the 5-year survival rate.

Some of the symptoms of AML include fatigue, recurrent infections, fevers, night sweats, and bruising easily.

I was diagnosed on August 7th, 2017, on my mother’s birthday. I had all the symptoms listed above, along with stomach issues, dangerously heavy bleeding when on my period, and impaired eyesight due to retinal hemorrhaging. After I was diagnosed, I was admitted into the hospital just 10 days later to start chemotherapy, my blast was already high, so my treatment was aggressive.

My first round of chemo required me to spend a month in the hospital, the first few weeks, it was fine, but once chemo hit me, it hit me hard. I can say without any hesitation that it was the most challenging, most agonizing experience of my life. I felt awful all the time. I went from being a normal young woman to feeling like I was 80. I had no energy, I couldn’t eat without throwing it all up, I lost my hair which was a harder blow to my emotions than I expect. Depression hid me hard.

There were unfortunate setbacks to my treatment. I was rushed to the ER by my frightened parents more than once. I almost hemorrhaged out twice and had multiple blood infections, one of which nearly shut down my kidneys and other vital organs. I was moved to the ICU three times and spent a few weeks there.

I said my goodbyes more than once and even begged my loved ones to just let me die because I wanted the pain to end. And you want to know the crazy thing? Even with all that, I’m one of the lucky ones.

My doctors would comment on how well I was handling treatment and how strong I was. I responded to chemo, going into remission quickly before moving on to more chemo for consolidation. I didn’t end up needing a bone marrow transplant. All that pain and fear, yet I know others on the same hospital floor as me being treated for the same had it worse. I had 5 different roommates in my months in the hospital, and except for one, none of them are here today.

One of the lucky ones.

I was officially done with treatment in February 2018, on my best friend’s and my doctor’s birthday. I think that’s a bit poetic, don’t you think. My best friend and I have been soul mates, friends, and sisters since I was four years old, and she and the man who saved my life share a birthday. The following month, she gave birth to my godson and gave him my name as his middle name. I get to see him grow up, and hopefully, I will for a long time.

None of that would be possible without my doctors, but also without donations, not just money, but blood and platelets. I had hundreds of blood transfusions while going through treatment. It kept me alive while the chemo did its thing. Due to covid, there is a nationwide shortage of blood products. So if you’re still here reading this, I ask you to consider donating if you can.

Blood, platelets, cord, bone marrow, if you do, you will save someone’s life—the way people saved mine.

I’m leaving links to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and The American Red Cross below.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Leukemia & Lymphoma Society + American Red Cross

[docholligay]

An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave I-- Morrison’s Ghost

All thanks for the sponsorship to @keyofjetwolf. 4,500 words 

Jack Morrison was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. HIs death was registered in both the United Kingdom and the United States, and his small pittance of a savings account and a life given over to a quick signature. Jack Morrison was as dead as a door-nail. 

Wilhelm Reinhardt was dead, to begin with. Died that same grey and cloudy day in a pile of rubble. His coffin, sent to the Lindholm family plot in Sweden, with nary a stir from the occupant, and buried there, a name carved in stone, dead as the man below it. 

Lena Oxton was dead, to begin with, though her grave had not yet even sunk into the ground, dirt still piled high over the top of it, but please know that it was no less sure, that she was dead. Angela Zeigler had pronounced her herself, and while a bit harried, these last months, she was never one to miss a heartbeat. 

No, all of them were dead, when our story begins. 

Did Ana know they were dead? Of course she did! Ana was Jack’s partner and roommate and perhaps sole great friend in this earth, and Reinhardt was her sometimes companion and always admirer, and the silence of Tracer ever missing from a room was impossible to ignore. She saw their pictures hung in the Overwatch headquarters, having given their lives in the pursuit of making the world they occupied a better one. 

Besides all that, she was no great fool in matters of the mind, however you might find her in matters of the heart, once I allow the tale to truly begin. 

And so, you might say, why all the preamble? Why not let the story speak for itself? Well, I tell you this, because if you do not remember that our assembled parties have all taken their last breath long before this day, nothing wonderful can come of the story laid before you here. 

But enough. This is a story you know, and a story you do not know, and like all stories known and unknown it begins with a hero, or perhaps a villain, or, in the best stories of all, simply a main character, with affiliation to good and evil fleeting and half-decided. 

So brings us to Ana Amari. 

There are people, in this world, immediately assured of their own correctness, and Ana was one of them. This is not to say that she thought of herself as having done everything in the most perfect way possible, or that there had never been something that might have gone differently, given different choices, but simply that she had nothing on this earth for which to apologize. Ana was a child of revolution and struggle, and it was well known that all people did what they had to do, and she had always and ever done that. 

Ana was a genius in some respects, as most of us are, and a particular point of her genius was her ability to justify everything she had ever done as being rooted in a good idea, an impossible choice only she was willing to make, and her skill in deciding others were simply looking for someone to blame.She had changed, she reasoned, in the way many people who fail to see the original problem do. The balance of power no longer held her, and her child was grown, and these changed circumstances allowed her to believe that it was a changed self. 

Ana moved through her life as if she were on trial, every conversation twisted into something that made her into a criminal. She would not be forced to speak against her own effort, and so she antagonized and snapped and refused to answer. They would not force her to admit guilt, to imprison herself. 

Only the weak did such things. 

It was a terribly chill December day, and the grey pall of a London winter cast out of the city as she moved to the cafe on her side of the Thames. She watched London always--she had never learned quite how to not pay attention to every given moment and movement--looking at the people who passed by, their clothing and manner changing as she moved through the city. 

The city was dressed up for Christmas, tinsel in windows, softly glowing lights strung up inexpertly, banners of evergreen strung over the streets as the inhabitants of the areas got richer. Happy Christmases were exchanged along the street between shopkeepers and customers, acting as if they knew or cared for each other at all. It was not a time of year Ana especially relished, not so much for the fact that she had never celebrated it herself, though she did not and would not, but for the fact that it reminded her even more keenly of a universally held truth. 

They were fragile. Londoners were mostly spoiled children who had no idea of what a harsh life might look like. The Omnics had come, those years ago, but they had not needed to rebuild a society out of the flames of the old one. They did not know what it was to have to be strong. To be firm. They were the sorts of people who let a date on a calendar upend their entire lives, pretending at all these childlike ideas. Take away some ridiculous pudding, and the whole of society might collapse. 

A mother crouched down by her daughter on the sidewalk, holding her small hand and telling her that it was was very disappointing when we couldn’t get a little cake to take home, she understood. 

Ana chuffed and shook her head as she walked by, her mental point proven. This was how children were prepared for the world to listen, to give them what they wanted. To hide from them the fact that sacrifice was demanded of people who wanted any good to come of it. It was no question that the sorts of people who attempted to empathize with a four year old’s want of pastry couldn’t understand Ana. 

In some ways, she found comfort in this. If people accustomed to the plush robes of a gentle life could not understand her, it was merely that they did not understand the sort of things that needed to be done. She almost could not fault them, though she certainly found occasion to do so anyhow. Sheep do not understand the sheepdog.  People like her were made to protect the world for people who did not have the strength to be like her, to do difficult things.

The cafe was a simple affair with a black awning, and in summers, Ana imagined there must be plenty of seating on the sidewalk in summer, but now there were only a few small tables crowded into the place, covered in a red gingham plastic. Black and white photography covered the walls, every square inch devoted to a memory that was certainly somewhat different from the lived experience of it. It smelled of bacon and beans and eggs, and it didn’t make much sense for Ana to be there, but the coffee was some of the most competent she’d found, the prices were right, and the English insistence on beans at breakfast was one of the few sensible things about them, this place preparing them with a bit of cheddar, if lacking much else by way of seasoning. They had a ready selection of newspapers, it was at nearly the halfway point between her apartment and her work, and she was accustomed to her little spot in the corner. 

Today, there was somebody in it. Not a tourist, but perhaps worse. A blonde woman with a round, almost dollish face, and bright blue eyes, a cozy pink sweater wrapping her like a blanket. 

Ana found sentimentality a crime, regret a worse one, and found weakness in softness. For these reasons, Ana Amari had never particularly bonded with Mercy, who had encompassed all of these things from the first time Ana had met her. She was a brilliant doctor, and few people could reasonably say otherwise. Her work was integral to the development of several new weapons. She was a private physician to Overwatch’s most complex cases. She was all of this, and Ana could admit it, but she was also the sort of person who cried in her office at times, who questioned the good of what they were doing because the means made her uncomfortable, the sort of person who let her heart overtake. Mercy was as bad as Moira, in her own way, Tracer had once struck her for saying, even if it was true. 

All of this might have been complicated enough, but then, while Ana was temporarily dead, Mercy had gone and married her daughter. 

Mercy sat looking at Ana with a small smile on her face, hands folded in her lap and what seemed to be salmon on toast in front of her. Across the table, there was a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of beans with cheese on toast. 

“I asked them what it was you were ordering every day.” Mercy nodded. “They know you very well.” 

Ana closed her eye and sighed. Mercy never knew when to leave anything alone. Which might have been fine, if she had ever bent Pharah’s ear to understanding what Ana had done was all to the good. But she seemed to constantly be needling Ana to apologize, to reach out to Pharah. When was it going to be Pharah’s responsibility to admit that she was wrong? The she had never tried to understand her mother? 

“Do I look like I need you to buy me breakfast?” She stood, looking down at Mercy, who shook her head. 

“Ana, please. Sit?” 

“I don’t know what possibly we could share here.” But she sighed and sat down anyway. At least there was breakfast, and the order was right. “But go on.” 

Mercy nodded hopefully. “The baby is doing well, the doctor tells me,” she gave a small giggle, looking off away from Ana, “Though, I am not needing too much input, I remember my rotation and have been studying up. A new mother’s anxiety, it must be, you know how that feels.” 

Ana took a drink of her coffee. “I was running an operation to my eighth month. But then,” she shrugged, “ I was so much younger. Less to worry about.” 

She looked back to Ana a moment, and then looked down at her salmon toast. “Yes. We have....we want this very badly, so I am, more nervous.” 

Ana said nothing, simply began to eat her beans and sip at her coffee.

“Ana,” Mercy straightened her back, “I was thinking. Wondering. If you’d like to come for dinner, on Christmas.” 

Ana looked over at her with a long, flat stare. 

“Not to celebrate! But, we always, everything is closed, and, Fareeha is making a wonderful dinner, we watch movies, you would be alone, and with it almost being Fareeha’s birthday,” She leaned forward, “And the new year, there are so many changes that will be coming. I thought that, maybe, since there are so many new things--.”

Ana set down her fork with a high clink, and chuckled. “Now we get to it. What do you want?” 

“Nothing. For me. Ana, you can snap at me, and be--be dismissive of me, all you are wanting for the rest of your life, that was before Fareeha, even, but I love her--” 

“You have never understood things between me and Fareeha. You can’t.” 

“All you would need to be doing is apologizing. Things have been,” Mercy gave a little sigh, “Fareeha, I think, would forgive you, if you tried. With the baby, and with the sadness of Lena--” 

Ana chuckled. “Just because you will hold my grandchild hostage doesn’t mean I’ll apologize, Angela,” she shook her head, “I did what I had to do. There is absolutely nothing to forgive. Just because Fareeha refuses to understand, does not, even for a minute, mean I will bend my knee to--” 

Mercy stood up, hands balled at her sides. “Then--then don’t! I--” she lost the words a moment, tears streaming down her face, and she wiped at them, buying her face in her hands, “I was wanting to help you, is all of it! I want to help her! I want,” She let out a sob,  and continued, very softly, “My parents are dead, Ana. For our child, I was wanting…” She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “No. I will go, now. I won’t try again. You can...win, if you are thinking this is winning.” 

She stood up and smoothed the front of her skirt, puling the coat over her shoulders, tears still streaming down her face. Mercy was like this, Ana thought. She was soft, in all the ways Ana was happy she wasn’t, and she good too emotional about things, things that didn’t even really concern her. What she and Pharah had as problems, was her and Pharah’s business. 

As she moved to leave the table, dropping a few pound coins next to her coffee, she turned back, stopped, and then took one look back. 

“You, are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength, “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath, “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” 

Ana sat back in her chair, and picked up a newspaper. 

Ridiculous.

____________

Ana lived alone, now, in that tiny and dark apartment in Brixton with the two small bedrooms barely enough to be called such. It had never occurred to her to live anywhere else. The hallways were dark and dank in the best of times, but the place was cheap, and she didn’t need any kind of frills to entertain all the guests she didn’t have. 

There was a chill coming up the stairs, and Ana attributed it to the cool of the December air, wet and icy on her face, and the poor maintenance of the building. It hardly mattered. The hallway was dim and still, a lightbulb at the end of it flickering out the last of its life in some desperate Morse code Ana could not decipher. She turned to unlock the door, when her sniper’s eye caught the movement, just a little. 

She turned toward the flicker and shadow. Silence. Nothing. Of course nothing, this hallway was always quiet as the grave, small people in their small lives coming and going like mice nibbling for crumbs. Another flicker, and he was there. 

The dark shadow at the end of the hall, strong and bricked and dead for years. Darkness again.

Ana dropped her keys in the moment, and bent down to pick them up. Had she eaten today? Clearly she was seeing things, if she needed to--

She raised her head, and he was there, grey and dead and big as life, standing next to her. She did not even have the time to gasp before his mouth through open and emitted a yell of pain and agony and deep loneliness, one that cut into her spine and made her shiver. She jumped back to ready herself to fight, but another flicker and it was gone. Nothing there, just the dingy carpet that always had been. 

She took a slow breath. Another. 

“Ridiculous.” She opened the door and went into her apartment. 

It was spartan, only a few small things giving any identity to the people who had lived there at all. Ana had made few changes since Jack’s death, other than emptying out his bedroom not because she needed it so much as she wanted the memory gone. There were two pictures on the mantle. A small television. Two tea cups in the small area that passed for a kitchen. 

She was unnerved, no matter how much of a hallucination the incident in the hallway had been, and her training kicked in. She swept the place quietly, examining every space, every nook every corner for signs of life. There was nothing, nothing at all but the long shadows the light cast across the floor. 

Her shoulders relaxed. Of course there was nothing. She needed to eat something, was all, she was no longer young and could not rely upon her body in the same way she had. There was a carton of soup in the refrigerator, and she dumped it into a pot unceremoniously, stirring it until it boiled and she put it into a deep, wide mug that served as a bowl nowadays.

She turned off the unpleasant florescent overhead light, and flipped on her small lamp next to the couch, the one small bit of soft warmth in the place, something that had been her mother’s from a lifetime ago. There was a book on the table, though she likely couldn’t have told you what it was, simply something to wile away the hour while she ate her soup. 

Her only minor concession was the knife set upon the coffee table.

The night had been dark, but somehow grew darker, the shadows drawing into the room, as if night itself was being sucked into that tiny apartment that served as fortress for Ana’s personal war. Ana tried not to notice it, at first. It was silly. She was unnerved by the hallucination in the hallway, and part of that had probably been thinking about the past. It was quite natural to think of the past, when someone stalked you to your cafe and tried to wield it as a weapon. 

Then someone knocked at the door. 

She looked down at the knife, and went to grab it, and then Jack’s bedroom door started knocking too, and then her bedroom door, and the knocking continued, louder and louder and louder, echoing around her as the darkness closed into the room. 

Ana opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out. 

It stopped. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. 

Ana considered herself to be grounded and logical, as a person. She wasn’t given to flights of fancy, she didn’t see the world as she wished it were, and she knew what to believe with her own eye and her own sense of instinct. She had never doubted her senses, before. She was a creature that fully inhabited them, that required them to survive. The day she could no longer assess a situation would be the day she died. 

It nearly had been, years ago. 

But now a prickling doubt hung over her head, that she might be losing touch with those same protective senses, even in the silent darkness of her small apartment. Losing her edge. She had always assumed death would come first. It had for the rest of them. 

But there was no angel of death in the corners of this room, only the silence being broken by the sound of heavy, slow footsteps, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. The floor creaked beneath the thing she could not see, and a low groan of pain and deep sorrow came echoed off the walls. 

Ana leapt to her feet, grabbing the knife off the table and exposing the blade. 

“You picked the wrong flat for this.” She growled. “I’ve had enough for today.” 

But the room was so small, Ana could not figure where the creeping, moaning, creaking came from. She looked behind the couch, only to find nothing. Behind her bedroom door, only shadows. Jack’s room had been closed since London, and it was windowless besides. But still the footsteps, and still the creaking, and still the sense of being watched. 

A face. 

Ana jumped into action, slashing at it quickly, sticking the blade where between the ribs would be, and coming up with only shadow and smoke in her hands. The face became a body, and the body took shape, even in the dull lamplight, as real as it was spectral, shimmering in the line between life and death. 

“Who are you?!” she barked, refusing fear. 

The ghost took full form now, a familiar shape against the darkness. “When I was alive, I was your partner. I was your best friend. I was your roommate, Ana. You know me.” 

The ghost glowered and Ana cocked her head slightly. It occurred to her, briefly, that she had also once been dead, but that was a different matter entirely. It couldn’t be. Jack had died in the Battle for London, she had selected how to deal with his body herself, she had seen him taken away and she had gone home to that same empty apartment that they had shared. She knew Jack. She had known Jack for more than 30 years. Jack was dead. These things she knew. 

“Ridiculous.” she spat.  “Impossible.”

And yet, it had to be. She moved closer to him as he looked at her, shaking his head in frustration and irritation at another one of Ana’s petty arguments. He did not wear his visor now, the shattered eyes he had only let her see fully visible in the shimmer of his presence. There were chains coming from him, dragging across his back and binding him, some attached to rocks, some attached to nails, all of them heavy, and hard, and he moved slowly even as he did not stop. 

“Jack? Jack.” Even his name sounded strange in her mouth. 

She nearly reached out to touch him, and then stopped herself. “No. No,” she waved him off, “This isn’t real.” 

There were ideas that were worse than losing your edge. 

He paced around the living room slowly. “Yeah, because you’ve always been a hallucinator. Why would this be fake? You don’t drink. You don’t do drugs.” 

“I buy sushi from Tesco. There’s the reason all itself.” Ana stopped at the side table, and sipped at her tea. “I have some sort of brain tapeworm from a fish. That is all, and I will go to bed, and, that will be all of it.” 

“Ana.” He said in that tone, that tone that was too close to real, that too carefully mimicked his annoyance and affection, “Come on now.” 

Ana sat down at the edge of the couch and looked over the chair near her. “Can you sit?” 

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I can sit.” 

Jack, for lack of another thing to call him, did so, setting himself in the chair he had occupied so many times in life. Ana herself was still unsure that she believed any of it. 

“Chains? How dramatic.” She sipped at her tea, determined to be unruffled, even as a chill hit across her back. 

“I made these chains, and I’m stuck with them. I made them every single time I set myself apart, every time I used my work as an excuse to build a wall,” he indicated to the rock near his foot, “I build this myself, link by link, with my own excuses and my own behavior.” 

Ana leaned back. “Comfortable.”

“Don’t joke, Ana. You should see the chain you’re wearing.” He shook his head. “It’s too late for me, but it doesn’t have to be for you.” 

Ana sat a moment, looking into her tea, considering all that she had seen, considering the things in her life that she knew were impossible and yet were somehow, still possible. This could be so many things. It could be the beginnings of some mental illness. It could be a hallucination borne out of stress or loneliness. It could be the aforementioned Tesco. But it could also be real, and if it were real, than the world at larger had it all wrong about them. 

“You did what you had to do. To save the world. We both did.” She waved a hand and scoffed. “We gave up so much for it, and then they hated us for it. We never got any reprieve.” She leaned toward him, pointing, “We made the sacrifice.” 

Jack gave a weak chuckle. “Did we? Or was it just always easier to fight?” He smiled softly. “We could have had families. We could have...built connections. The crisis ended, but we never stopped being there. We forgot how to be people, me, and you, and Gabe.” 

“I--”

“You were the most important person I had.” Jack rose to his feet. “I’m here to help you. I don’t want this to happen to you.” 

“And how, exactly,” she raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to help me, with all of my supposed problems?” 

“There will be three spirits: The ghosts of Christmas Past, Present--”

She stood up, laughing. “Why Christmas? I don’t even celebrate Christmas. I’ve never celebrated Christmas. I--” 

“It’s for narrative structure, Ana. Call them the ghosts of Last Tuesday Past, I don’t--” 

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know why we need to--” 

He shook his head again, “You will be visited by three spirits, one tonight, at midnight--” 

“I don’t have time for this, have them all come at once, so I can go back to--”

“ANA!” He howled, and raged toward her and the force of it knocked her into the wall, those empty eyes burning, burning like coals in the darkness of his own death, “I am trying to help you! Do you want to die alone? Do you want to be completely separated from every human being? You can live a long time Ana, and start to realize it’s a hell, and all you’ll do is wait, and stare, at visitors that are never coming, and birthdays you’ll never celebrate, and you’ll know,” He pointed his finger in you’re face, “You’ll know! That you put yourself there.” 

“Jack…”

He sighed heavily and plopped into the chair, his hand at his temples. ‘While I was alive, I couldn’t help you, or save you. You were so damn--we--were so damn determined to put walls around ourselves, thick ones, like we were fortresses, and keep everyone else out. And we did a good fucking job, didn’t we? You and me, side by side, shooting down anyone who tried to come over.” He removed his hand but did not look at her, “When I died, who truly mourned me? You?” he chuckled, “Maybe not even that.” 

“I did.” 

She hated herself for saying it, at first, and knowing that it was true, and then there was a second, smaller hate there, one she could not place. 

“Okay. If you say so.” He looked out the window. ‘This isn’t a discussion. You’re going to be visited, and for God’s sake Ana, please just listen. I could never get you to listen. I...that’s all the time I have. Listen.” 

He stood up and stepped toward the window as if not under his own power, drifting more than walking toward the dark London night. Ana stumbled to her feet, confused and angry and afraid, calling after him. 

“Jack? Jack, why can’t you just--Jack!” 

He faded through the window, though Ana knew it to be double tight, and she was left alone in the dark, with but one word, surrounding her and echoing off the walls. 

“Listen.”

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 6

Day 6 - When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area

Pairing(s): Analoceitmus [ambiguous, can be read romantic or platonic, or a mix], QPR Royality 

TWs: Injury mention, swearing, Remus being Remus near the end 

–

“I’m going to sue him.”, Logan hissed, attempting to sit up in his hospital bed, “Soulmate or not, how can one man possibly be so irresponsible?! I’m definitely going to sue him.”

He winced as he tried to get comfy, but the tough mattress and uncomfortable bunching of the sheets said suffer. 

And boy, was he. 

Logan Sanders was an immaculate, careful man. Had been since he was a child. A neat and tidy lad who - upon learning of the rules of fate - made it his utmost mission to spare his soulmate any pain or anguish for as long as he could manage. 

His soulmate, however, didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

From childhood, Logan found himself with sudden knee pains from scrapes he never fell for, abrasions he had caused no friction to gain, and the occasional shoulder or back pain as if he’d been pushed over when he was standing perfectly upright. At least the universe had decided to spare humanity the anguish of leaving soulmates with the physical injuries that came with the pain, but it was only a minor comfort.

Logan couldn’t say he hadn’t expected a lot of rough and tumble from his soulmate after his elementary school years, but really; a broken leg, facial burns, and a splintered forearm? “This is absolute bullshit.”, he bitterly muttered, “Barely hours apart! How is that even possible?!”

His ranting went ignored by the nurse who came to administer his medication; thankfully science had worked out a wonderful little clear pill that could banish the pain from particularly debilitating soulmate pains. The little bastards were expensive - the true pain is always capitalism within the medical world -  but Logan’s job paid handsomely. Say what you will about computer nerds and whatnot, but programming for the right people lets you make some seriously high end bread. None of that homemade farmer’s market shit.

Unfortunately, he’d have to wait about a week for his pains to ebb gently into nothingness until the klutz of a man fate paired him with got into MORE trouble. Thus Logan couldn’t get back to his work. His leg was, for all intents and purposes, broken so the staff couldn’t let him go home. He couldn’t simply drive home himself either, his splintered forearm saw to that. And Logan couldn’t even ask his roommate Emile to bring him his work laptop to try and keep his workload at bay, his left eye was too cloudy and painful to concentrate on a screen. 

Yes; his soulmate BETTER be paying his hospital bills.

Realisation struck Logan; his soulmate is obviously just as injured, ergo it’s a high probability that he could be somewhere within the hospital too. Using his good hand to reach for a pen, and absolutely dreading adding to his pain, Logan poked the tip into his good arm, wincing as he first attempted to contact them with simple morse code, “My/ Name/ Is/ Logan. Who/ Are/ You?”

He waited for a response, fearing he would have to start scratching his name onto his arm when he felt the little jabs in response,  “Janus.” Great. He FINALLY had a name to put on the lawsuit. Logan, already wincing at the bee-sting pain from the pen, he jabbed out another message,

“Are/ You/ Currently/ Staying/ At/ Stokes/ General/ Hospital?”

The reply came cryptically,

“Yes / I / -”

Logan wasn’t sure why his soulmate had suddenly stopped replying. Had a nurse confiscated whatever his soulmate was using to poke himself? Either way, Logan would have to be content with the knowledge his soulmate was at least close by. He truly had no idea how close until two very disgruntled voices were within earshot of his room door,

“Brilliant, I just adore being ousted from my comfortable bed so I could spend even longer looking at your delightful face.”

“Oh, like you’re the victim here, asshole! You’re the one stabbing yourself and fucking up my unbroken arm!”

Logan watched them both argue outside of his room door. Both men were sporting similar injuries to his own; the first one that had spoken, refined looking gentleman with sharp features and neat blonde hair, had the left side of his face bandaged heavily. Meanwhile the other man, sporting raven hair and eye bags that could carry a month’s worth of groceries, was fitted with a cast on his left forearm. Both of them were on crutches, though Logan couldn’t see if either had a genuine cast.

“Ahem. Gentlemen?”

Logan called to them, watching as both turned to meet his gaze. He lifted the pen in his hand and asked, “I take it one of you is Janus?”

The man with the bandages over his eye, Janus, nodded, “That would be me.”

The man with the broken arm looked confused, “Wait, so, you’re the one who was ramming a pen into their arm? Damn.”, he turned, begrudgingly to the first man, “I guess I owe you an apology then.”

“Really you needn’t-”

“Then I shan’t.”

Janus glared at the other man’s snark, but Logan found it rather delightful. Clearing his throat once more, he breached the topic, “I take it that means we three are soulmates?”

“Four.”

Logan and Janus looked to the third man as he explained, “Your leg doesn’t have a proper cast on it, this asshole doesn’t have one either,”, Janus gifted the man a half glare and a middle finger before he continued, “And since I don’t have one, it’s pretty obvious there’s a fourth musketeer.”

Fair to say, Logan was impressed, even Janus was hiding the tiniest hint of admiration as he retorted, “And are we to call you Sherlock or D’artagnan?”

The man rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, fuck you. My name’s-”

“VIRGIL!!”

The man, Virgil, nearly lept out of his skin, jerking his arm and giving the three of them a jolt of pain. Logan felt relieved he’d only have to put up with it for a few more days once the medicine took effect. 

In the doorway stood a man who could only be described as unnecessarily handsome, clad in a burgundy bomber jacket and a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt that seemed out of place on someone who stood poised like the protagonist of a romance anime. Logan noted he and Janus both checked to see if his leg was broken; good to know they had similar tastes even if the man’s lack of a cast dashed their hopes. Said handsome man made a beeline for Virgil, only to receive a swat and a motion to back off, 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Princey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!!!”, Virgil hissed and took a deep breath. ‘Princey’ let out a fond huff, “You should be so lucky, Bring Me The Depression, do you know how worried Pat and I were when we couldn’t find you!? This, dearest Emo Nightmare, is karma at its finest-!”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Roman. Where’s Pat? He’s gonna wanna meet my soulmates.”

Roman blinked, finally registering Logan and Janus just watching the two of them reunite. Clearing his throat, Logan made the introductions, “I’m Logan Sanders, this gentleman is-”

“Janus Delgado. Charmed I’m sure.”, Janus butt in, “Really, Logan, I can introduce myself. Unlike some people.”

Virgil flipped him off just in time for Roman to frown in confusion, “And…. you’re all sure you’re soulmates? I mean, no offense but you don’t...”, he picked his words carefully, his face contorting at the effort, “....act like soulmates?”

The three of them looked between one another and shrugged, “To be perfectly fair - Roman, yes? - we have all literally just met today under…. Less than optimal circumstances. I doubt you and your soulmate, assuming you’ve found them, hit it off instantly.”

Roman blinked, “Kind of, we didn’t have any problems like this, quite honestly...”, he almost sounded guilty at that notion, “The worst we have to deal with is his cat allergies-”

Out in the hallway, a couple of nurses hurriedly walked past and allowed another man into the room who immediately lit up at the sight of Roman and Virgil, “There you both are!!! I got held up at the vending machine, but when I came back you were both gone!”

“Patton! How glad I am to see you once more!”, Roman beamed, pulling the taller man into a hug and planting a dramatic kiss upon his cheek, to which Logan, Janus, and Virgil simultaneously met with an ‘ugh’. Perhaps they were more alike than they first assumed. 

Patton turned to meet Janus and Logan’s gaze, looking back to Virgil who explained, “They’re two of my soulmates, Pat.”

For a moment, the tall excitable ball of sunshine looked like he was about to pop with joy when Roman held up a hand to interject, “Pardon me, but ‘two of’?”, and cast his confusion towards Virgil who explained, “Our last soulmate has a broken leg, it’s the only injury we can’t account for.”

Patton and Roman shared a momentary look, drawing Logan’s attention, “Roman? Patton? Are you both alright?”. The two seemed to play eye contact rock-paper-scissors to decide who would answer, with Roman losing apparently.

“When exactly did you feel the pain in your leg?”

“Couple hours ago” “Around three?” “Precisely 3:27 pm.”

Came the chorus of answers. Janus and Virgil both shot Logan a look, to which he quietly murmured, “It never hurts to provide a little extra clarity.”

“Apparently so,”, Janus began, before shifting his partial gaze to the couple, “So, are you lovebirds-”

“Qpp’s.”, Patton corrected quietly, to which, Janus did apologise, “Pardon me. So, are you queer platonic saps going to clue us in to why exactly you asked us such a specific question?”

Roman sighed, “I ask because my brother, Remus, broke his leg at that exact same time today. Pat and I were going to visit him right after we’d checked in with Virgil.”

The three soulmates shared a collective look, but the first one to pipe up was Virgil, “You have a brother?! Why am I only finding this out now, I’ve known you for 12 fucking years, Roman! What the fuck!?”

Logan exasperatedly ran a hand down his face as he tried to maneuver himself out of his bed and into one of the hospital’s wheelchairs, Janus offering a hand to him, “Virgil, as much as I would love to listen to you and Roman bicker back and forth, could we possibly save such trivialities for after we meet our fourth soulmate?”

This time Patton piped up, “Oh, um, you may not want to do that just yet-”

As if on cue, roughly six or seven medical staff rushed by, causing Patton and Roman to quickly look around the doorway, only to turn back to the others, “Well, no time like the present. Patton, if you help Virgil, I’ll help Janus once Logan can shimmy into that wheelchair.”, Roman assigned as he offered an arm for Logan to hold onto while he got himself in the chair. Noting the context clues, Logan was rightfully worried, especially as he felt a new pain in his hand, only to note that while Roman and Patton helped them move, Virgil and Janus seemed to be experiencing more pain in their legs than before. In the moment, Logan did feel a little bad that the pill he’d taken hours earlier was saving him from too much additional pain. Approaching the hospital room the medical staff had gathered within, the group were greeted with a wild scene.

A scruffy man strikingly similar in looks to Roman - albeit sporting a thin moustache and silver hair streak - wearing a leg cast was holding a crutch in one hand and an honest to god butterfly knife in the other, standing atop his hospital bed, raving like a lunatic and gesturing frantically to an empty space in the room,

“NOW WILL SOMEBODY FINALLY LET ME OUT OF HERE?! ME AND THIS BEAR WANNA GO CATCH HORNY FISH AND SHIT IN THE WOODS!!” 

Charming. 

Logan glanced over at Patton and Roman, the question clear on his face just like their answer. That was Remus alright. He watched Roman talk with a nurse trying to calm Remus, “We gave him some painkillers to ease his leg pains, but it shouldn’t be affecting him this much!”

“Oh, Remus has always been like this with medication, I should’ve warned the nursing staff.”, he groaned, “But that doesn’t explain-”

“He must’ve pushed the blue button behind his bed,”, Logan sighed, already anticipating Roman’s question, “The medical staff likely assumed Remus was coding and thus went into action. That’s why they’re here right now.”

Roman’s expression confirmed that was indeed going to be his question. As Roman went to help the nurses tranquilise Remus’ wild flailing, and while his other two soulmates stood by to watch the chaos - in varying degrees of worry and strange admiration bordering on attraction for his disregard for social norms - Logan tried to come to terms with the facts.

He had three very different soulmates, and by the looks of it? He’d have to get used to frequent hospital stays….

--------------

This one’s probably on the weirder side, but uh, yeah, I hope it’s still a good read! [Also sorry these have been a little late lately TTvTT] @tsshipmonth2020 Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[sa7abnews]

My roommates and I share groceries. We all bulk shop for our apartment and save $300 a month.

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/11/my-roommates-and-i-share-groceries-we-all-bulk-shop-for-our-apartment-and-save-300-a-month/

My roommates and I share groceries. We all bulk shop for our apartment and save $300 a month.

My roommates and I bulk shop for our apartment and share groceries.René MorrellI'm a Chicago-based creative in the art world and restaurant industry.I have two roommates who also bulk shop and share groceries with me.Our system may not work for everyone, but it aligns with the values we were raised with.This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with René Morrell. It has been edited for length and clarity.Even with the nuances in our experiences, my roommates and I were all raised in households emphasizing the importance of community and resource sharing.This common value, which we've maintained as important in our adult lives, allows us to share our food and other resources in a cooperative and communal way.My roommates and I started sharing our bulk groceries around 2018, but my journey with sharing bulk groceries began even earlier. A couple of years ago, I worked for a nonprofit, and during my time there, I started a program where we gave food to families in bulk. That experience really piqued my interest in implementing bulk grocery sharing in my own home.We may have different titles, but we're all creativesI'm a creative with a somewhat split life between the food service industry and the art world. I work as a server in Chicago, where I was born and raised and still live. In 2023, I graduated with a BFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.My two roommates are fellow creatives, and we knew each other before moving in together. One of my roommates is a fashion designer, and I actually have a familial connection with my other roommate, who's a makeup artist. We've known each other since we were teens.Being creatives, sometimes we don't always have the money to compensate each other financially. I might log in to my account and find it's negative. To foster a safer environment at home, we've transitioned into doing more of a barter system over the years. The barter system not only makes sense for us, but it also helps us avoid creating food waste, which we all take issue with.We all contribute to our bulk grocery-sharing routineWe all participate in our bulk grocery shopping and sharing routine and shop at a few different stores, so there's variety in what we bring into the space. One of my roommates, a fashion designer, juices, so he buys a lot of produce in bulk at places like Costco or even restaurant wholesale stores he has access to. A lot of times, he makes juices for the entire house, but sometimes, he makes specialized juices just for himself.My other roommate, a makeup artist, gets bottled water and grains from Trader Joe's, Pete's Market, or sometimes even food pantries for the house. I'm the meat buyer of the house and tend to shop at more mainstream grocery stores.My last bulk grocery run was to Jewel-Osco. I honestly think they partially created their app because of me. I'm always giving feedback related to their customer experience. In the past, the app would not include accurate information on the items specific locations had in stock. The app has thankfully gotten so much more user-friendly compared to how it used to be, which is particularly important to me since I don't drive or have time to peruse around the store leisurely.Sometimes, I use the app for pick-up orders, or if I'm in the store, I can search the app for blueberries and see the different types of blueberries and the deals they have, so I know exactly which kind to grab. The last time I used the app, I saw they had great deals on filet mignon. It was marked down from $11 to $5 a pound. There was also an additional sale on meat that was around 30% off — I left with six steaks for around $30.Since we began bulk shopping and sharing our groceries, we save around $260 to $300 a month.Depending on how much we save in a month, some of our bulk shopping money will go towards collective household bills. For example, if I make a bulk purchase of meat and end up saving $60, I'll take that $60 and think of it as free money to be put toward our bills. Our system has shifted as we've figured out what works best for usSince starting, we have tried different methods of splitting our groceries and paying each other back to figure out what works best for us. Sometimes, we send each other money directly, but we'll often also do things like compensate each other with produce of an equal amount. For example, I really enjoy passion fruit, and sometimes, it can run $3 a piece, so if my roommate who enjoys juicing, wants to give me passion fruit in exchange for the steak I just bought, that would be fine.Although we primarily use the barter system, we do still make grocery purchases that are specifically for our personal use unless we check-in with each other first. Between our constant communication and learning more about each other's habits over the years, we're able to pretty easily identify when certain items are not for our bartering system. For example, I will sometimes make dishes with truffles, and my truffle products are primarily off-limits. My other roommate, the makeup artist, buys items that specifically contain prebiotics and probiotics to help with occasional stomach issues. In other words, when we open up the refrigerator and see truffles or a probiotic drink we all know who it's for.I realize our system would not work for everyone or every household. Some prefer to navigate life as more of an individual, and some like to work with others, but only if there are very clear-cut rules. It all comes down to your group's core values. Our core values lie in supporting our community and making sure we all have the resources we need, and that's what we try to model in our home.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Without You (Keanu x Reader)

Summary: Part 4 of Always the quiet ones series. Keanu is gone and you have to deal with his absence and fixing your brandnew apartment on your own. Part 1 - Always the quiet ones | Part 2 - The Proposal | Part 3 - Dark Paradise

Author’s notes: Finally a new part of this series. I’m still in love with it, I promise. Feedback is always appreciated. I always want to know what you folks think!

Wordcount: 7115

Warnings: alcohol consumption; smut (masturbation; use of toys; dirty talk and squirting)

You woke up with soft lips pressing wet kisses all over the exposed skin of your shoulder, coarse beard tickling you, and making you smile against the goose feather pillow beneath your head.

Soft rays of sunshine warmed your body, trying to pierce through your closed eyelids but you refused to give in. You were cozy and comfortable, the only thing missing was the solid body next to you but you had a feeling that if you put a bit of effort, you could maybe convince Keanu to return to bed and sleep in a little longer.

“Come on, sweetheart. Time to get up. I know you’re awake.” The sharp slap on your ass made you jolt and yelp. Keanu’s deep and throaty chuckle making you glare at him. “I did try a nice way first.”

He pressed his lips to your pout for a quick kiss before he got up from the bed, revealing his attire of dark trousers and white button-down, not formal enough for meetings at Arch but not casual enough for a stroll in the city. Your gaze moved past him and you caught sight of his suitcase resting against the wall next to the empty closet.

You had forgotten Keanu would be leaving today. Or maybe you were in denial about the fact because this past week had been one of the best of your life and you didn’t want it to end. You had spent all your free time with Keanu, mostly in bed, talking and fucking and just getting to know one another a little better.

At first glance, Keanu had appeared to you as smooth and charming, completely in control of everything but as you spent more time together, you began to realize that, yes he was all that, as well as a genius, his interests varying from technology – as expected considering his company – to motorcycles, art, literature, cinema, and music. However, you were pleasantly surprised to realize that, once Keanu let that carefully constructed public image fade away, he was a complete, lovable dork.

It was in the way his eyes burned brighter with excitement when he was talking about the latest book he was reading or the wild hand gestures that accompanied. His awkward little laugh whenever he was unable to operate something simple like a coffee machine, or the outraged tone of his voice whenever you made him watch a movie or a show he didn’t like and Keanu was left to complain to you and the screen at the absurdity of the characters’ actions.

You were beginning to realize that the real Keanu was quite different from what he let out to the world and you were thrilled and touched that he was beginning to trust you enough to let you see this side of him.

You only feared that this was making it even easier for you to fall for him and you had to keep reminding yourself that this was mostly business and casual for him, so it should be the same to you. Maybe it was for the best that Keanu was leaving again, give you room to shield your heart instead of getting caught up in his spell.

“What time’s your flight?” You asked, stretching and yawning. Letting his gaze drink in your naked body.

You were starting to feel much more comfortable being completely bare whenever you were together especially because you never knew when Keanu might pounce you and ruin a perfectly good pair of underwear.

“In four hours,” he replied and you smirked, crawling closer to the edge of the bed, your face hovering inches away from his crotch as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“So we could stay in bed a little longer?”

“We could,” Keanu smirked down at you. “If someone didn’t have class.”He pulled away from you, walking over to the small sitting room of the master suite and you groaned in disappointment, getting up and putting on a shirt so you could follow him.

“I can skip it,” you said, humming appreciatively as the smell of coffee reached your nose. Keanu had ordered room service and food was already set on the dining table.

“You could, but you’re not going to.” There was a warning in his eyes and even if you knew he was just thinking about the best for you, you couldn’t help but pout. You wanted to spend a little longer with him. “Besides, I can’t stay. Apparently, I’m needed at Arch.”

Keanu rolled his eyes and pulled the chair for you, waiting until you were seated to push it in place and start serving you. It was kind of his thing, taking care of you like this even if you insisted he didn’t have to. Keanu just liked to do it and after a couple of days, you stopped arguing and just let him get his way, as he always did.

“Well, the branch is just starting, makes sense they rely a little more on you,” you reasoned and Keanu snorted as he poured your coffee: two sugars, just a splash of milk like you liked it, setting on your left.

“I pay these people a lot of money, so they don’t need to rely on me.” Keanu settled on his chair across from you once he had filled your plate, sipping on his coffee. “What I need is someone I can trust to oversee things for me, be my representative.”

“Maybe you should stay a little longer, find someone to fill that role,” you said, trying for a nonchalant tone but from the little smirk Keanu flashed over the rim of his cup, it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I really wished I could, but I have a lecture at MIT this afternoon, a conference in London in two days, and several meetings back in LA for the next three weeks.”

You knew that Keanu was a busy man, of course. Being CEO of one of the leading technology companies in the US took time and effort, still, you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment in your heart. This week, you had him mostly to yourself so you were going to miss not having him at all.

“I guess we’re going to have to learn to do this long-distance,” you said, managing a smile that didn’t really reach your eyes.

“That reminds me…” Keanu said, getting up and for the first time you noticed the dark paper bags on the couch. “I got you a few things.”

With a frown, you got up too and stood next to him as he unveiled the items. You gasped when you realized he just got you the most expensive laptop from his company, as well as an ARCHpad, one of those tablets everyone in your class seemed to have.

“Keanu, I can’t take this…” you said, even if your fingers were running over the smooth dark surface of the laptop, the sunken lines of the word ARCH in bright red making the device slick and modern.

“You can and you will,” he took a seat next to you on the couch, one arm around your shoulders as you explored the illuminated keys of the laptop. “I’ve seen that piece of junk you call a laptop and I’m surprised you can get anything done with a thing that old. Besides, having an ARCHbook will make it easier for you to sync up your account with your ARCHpad and phone.”

“I don’t have an ARCHphone,” you told him, and Keanu just smirked, reaching inside his pocket, and pulling a mobile. “Keanu, I…”

Before you could form a protest, he sealed your lips with his, distracting you with a searing kiss that had you burning with need for him.

“Ok…” you sighed against his mouth once he let you away for breath and Keanu grinned. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” setting the phone on your hands so you could explore it. “Just don’t let anyone take too close of a look. That model isn’t out yet.”

You nodded, still distracted by the device, noticing that it was already set up and there was only one name on its contact list: Keanu’s, along with one of the silliest looking ID pictures you had ever seen, which made you giggle.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough,” you said turning your attention back to him and finding him with another box in his hand and a big smile on his lips. “What’s that now?”

“Take a look,” he encouraged with a wiggle of his eyebrows and you tugged on the ribbon, untying the box before you could lift the lid.

“It’s a key,” you frowned in confusion and it took you a second to realize what that meant. “Oh my GOD! Is this…?”

“Yeah,” Keanu chuckled.

“So, I can…”

“Whenever you want,” he assured and you couldn’t contain yourself, you just climbed on his lap and pressed kisses all over his face, chanting your gratitude as he laughed. “One last thing and I promise I’m done.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you slowed your kisses, focusing on his lips now and making them longer, sensuous and you could already feel him hardening underneath you.

“That’s the point, sweetheart.” He lifted his hand by his head, a black credit card between his fingers and you knew what that was without even looking. “For furniture and other expenses as you settle in the new apartment.”

You hesitated in taking the card and you had no idea why. Keanu gave you an apartment, why a credit card linked to his account was the thing that gave you pause? Why taking his money made you guilty when you had been very willing to enjoy the nice, expensive things he bought you with it?

“I can hear you overthinking it,” he whispered, freehand coming to your nape to pull you closer and catch your mouth in another searing kissing that left you gasping and rolling your hips against him. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t feel comfortable with it, but if you don’t you’ll have to wait a month for me to come back and we can get that place furnished. Do you really want to wait?”

You didn’t and he knew it too. For this week, you had experimented the heaven that it was to have an actual comfortable place to live with plenty of space and without a noisy and annoying roommate. A place where you didn’t have to share a bathroom with several other people and you could study without anyone interrupting you or worrying about slow wi-fi or working hours.

You had had the taste of freedom and Keanu knew you weren’t ready to go back to the hell that was your dorm. So, you snatched the card from his hand with narrowed eyes at his little victorious smirk.

“You’re sure I shouldn’t skip my class and you shouldn’t tell everyone at Arch to fuck off?” you asked, lips brushing against his as you grabbed his hand and brought between your legs, to your soaked folds.

“No,” he heaved a sigh, biting your lip before he grabbed his phone and brought it to his ear. “Cheryl I can’t make it to the meeting. Just email me the issues and I’ll take a look at the plane.”

Keanu hung up before there was even a word out from the other side of the line, which made you smirk. Especially when he wrapped his arms tight around you and got up from the couch, your legs coming around his waist to give yourself some more support.

“You, young lady, are a bad influence,” he declared, walking back to the suite.

“I learned with the best,” you grinned, catching his lips in a new kiss.

You could feel the weight of the stares at your back as you made your way to the breakroom. After a week of coming and going from the presidential suite, everyone in the hotel knew about you and Keanu and the whispers and rumors started flying. You were trying your best not to let it affect you but it was hard when every time you stepped into a room, everyone fell silent making painfully obvious that you had been the topic of conversation.

Still, you only had to deal with it for another week since you had delivered your two weeks’ notice. You could handle some gossip for another week. It wouldn’t be enough to make you fall from your high of having a brand-new apartment and the shot of a better life for yourself

Leaned on the reception desk, you flashed a big grin at Maggie, showing her the key. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands, muffling her little squeal of excitement, getting weird looks from one of the other receptionists.

“Already?”

“Yes!” you grinned, happiness brimming in your heart. “What time do you get out? We’re going to celebrate.”

“Seven.”

“Perfect!” you pulled one of the notepads closer, scribbling down the address before pushing it her way. “Just drop by when you’re done.”

“I’m so happy for you!” Maggie grinned wide and you could feel the sincerity in her tone and her eyes. She had been your first real friend in New York and supported you through thick and thin. You knew she would support you through this too.

You waved at her, walking out of the hotel with that silly grin in your lips, wide enough your cheeks were starting to hurt but you couldn’t help yourself. Things were really starting to brighten up for you and it was hard to disguise the relief and excitement. Maybe it wasn’t the way you have pictured, but was that so bad? Plans didn’t always happen how we imagine, but that doesn’t make it a bad thing, right?

You took a taxi to your dorm room, having way too much expensive stuff to risk taking the subway and as you strolled around campus you couldn’t avoid having a little spring on your step, giddiness filling your chest. You were almost hoping that your roommate was around so you could give her the finger as you left your personal hell.

However, she didn’t show up, so you had to settle for leaving a note while you hauled the two suitcases with your possessions, plus your backpack out of the dorm. You paused at the sidewalk just outside the building that had been your home for the last three years. They had been good years despite everything, but you weren’t going to miss it. Not when you knew what was waiting for you on the other side of the cab ride to Morningside Heights.

You rested your forehead against the cool window of the car, watching the city lights passing you by in flashes, excitement bubbling in your chest as the metal of the key heated up against your hand. You couldn’t let it go. It was the ultimate sign that your life would never be the same.

The cabbie parked by the front doors and helped you with your bags, leaving the doorman to take them inside for you while you paused by the front desk to sign up, all the documents needed in your phone.

Once all formalities were concluded, you could take the elevator to your apartment. No, penthouse. The giddiness growing as the numbers moved up and finally the polished metal doors slid open, revealing the well-illuminated hall with one solitary door.

With your suitcases resting by the wall, your hands trembled as you tried to push the key in the hole and you giggled like a kid at the click of the lock and the silent sway of the door, revealing the ample space of the living room, dark except for the dotted lights of the buildings all around you the came through the window panels.

You hesitated, wishing Keanu could be doing this with you, stepping inside your home for the first time. The thought was almost enough to deflate your entire mood, so you quickly shoved aside, taking your first step into your new life. This was it. This was your world now and you would be damned if you were going to let anyone stand in your way.

Flickering the lights on as you walked through the empty space, you took deep breaths, letting the smell of polish wood floors and gleaming new metal fill your nose. There wasn’t any furniture except for the kitchen cabinets and basic appliances, and you tried to imagine how each space would look as you walked around, hands touching the walls and windows.

You wanted a big dinner table and a long couch so you could always have people over and a chandelier – nothing too flashy – above to brighten up the room. You wanted the halls in a light shade of grey and the rooms white to soak up natural lights.

In the master bedroom, you wanted the bed to face the windows so you could always wake up to the sun rising in between the buildings, the orange hues of the sky turning blue as the sun brightened up. You also wanted a window bench so you could sit and read with the city as a background. Your work desk, however, couldn’t face the windows. You would get lost in the view.

Sitting on the duvet you spread on the ground in the exact place where you envisioned your bed, you let your mind wander with home design options and ideas until you heard the intercom and jumped to your feet, knowing Maggie would be waiting outside.

“Oh. My. God!” she said with round eyes as she shoved the sparkling wine in your hands and walked around the apartment. “Oh. My. God.”

You just chuckled, putting the bottle in the fridge and following as she explored the place. When she stepped on the terrace, her eyes grew even wider and her grin brighter.

“OH. MY. GOD!”

“I know!” you giggled covering your mouth. You couldn’t believe yourself just yet.

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” Maggie’s smile was soft and sincere as she drew you into her arms. “I really am. You’re one of kindest, good-hearted people I’ve ever met in this city and you deserve a good life.”

“Thanks, Mags,” you grinned, your eyes burning with the unshed tears. Your heart bursting with emotion. She really was such an amazing friend. “Let’s pop that bottle and order Chinese?”

“Fuck yes!” she cheered, following you back to the kitchen.

The days blurred together as they went by. You still had class every day and finished your two weeks-notice at last, which gave you plenty of free time. More than you knew what to do with. So you focused your energy on getting the apartment livable.

You took Maggie shopping for furniture. Your first purchase was a bed because your back was starting to hurt from sleeping on the floor. You got a king-size bed with padded headboard, bedside tables, and an office desk and chair because you were never good at working in bed without falling asleep or getting distracted. Next was the kitchen stuff you needed since you couldn’t live off takeout forever.

You never knew nice china and cutlery were that expensive. It was almost as if the uglier they got, the price went up, even more, to convince buyers it was worth it. Fortunately, you weren’t a moron, so you settled for plain white ones because you were planning to eat from them not put it on display.

Keanu was less than thrilled with your picks though, and everything you two video chatted and you showed your latest buy, he would get that look on his face that told you he was trying to pretend he didn’t hate it. Or when you sent a link of something you were planning to get, and he just shot it down in three seconds.

“Oh my God! You’re so pretentious,” you complained good-naturedly at your nightly chat as Keanu vetoed the couch you intended to by.

“It’s not being pretentious, sweetheart. It’s having a taste for the finer things in life,” he replied with a smirk, laying back on his luxurious bed in LA.

You could see dark sheets and an elegant bedframe of twisted metal in decorative loops. His torso was bare, and his hair curled slightly behind his ears, showing he had showered recently and let it dry naturally.

“You’re saying that just because your bed cost twice as mine…”

“A little more than twice,” he corrected, making you roll your eyes.

“Fine! Just because your bed cost an obscene amount of money, doesn’t mean it’s better than mine.”

“Ours,” he corrected again and this time, you smiled. “Our bed and yes, it does. I make sure to only get the best for my places and that penthouse isn’t going to be an exception.”

You mulled over his words, tapping your index finger on your jaw. Truth was, you did walk by Horchow and Modani that first day, but the posh looks of the displays and salesperson made you run to the familiar halls of Ikea. At least there you could blend in. Everyone went to Ikea and you still remembered the days that you walked between their products, picking the furniture for your dream house, which you were doing right now.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of dreaming a little bigger, love,” he smiled gently at you once you confessed that and that familiar warmth that you always felt when Keanu granted you that look, all soft and caring, filled your chest. Damn you missed him.

Saturday after your conversation with him, you were awakened by someone leaning heavily on the doorbell and when you finally managed to groggily drag yourself from your bed and pad barefoot to the open it, your apartment was invaded by a small entourage of overly energetic and sharply dressed people.

“He was right! It is perfect!” the man that seemed to be leading the party cooed, walking past you like you were part of the furniture as he admired the window panels and the morning light that filtered through it.

“I’m sorry, but who the hell are you?” you asked after a moment of watching them scattering around your place, browsing through everything, measuring tapes coming out every once in a while.

“Didn’t Mr. Reeves tell you?” he asked, spinning on his heel to look at you, his lips crisping in distaste at your messy hair and oversized sleeping shirt. “I’m Ryan, the interior designer that did his offices here in New York.”

“I guess he forgot to mention,” you replied, rubbing your eyes and moving towards the counter to get some coffee. “I’m guessing you’re here to fix the apartment?”

“I wouldn’t say fix…” he trailed off, looking around, but his grimace was quite obvious. “Alright, I would. Honey, do you have any idea how lucky you are? You got a high-end apartment in one of the best areas of the city and unlimited funds to get it just the right way. Think big!”

“People keep telling me that,” you sighed, leaning against the counter, holding your mug like it was a lifeline in the brand new world you had just been thrown into. “I’m a simple girl with simple needs.”

‘I can work with that,” he smiled at you and this time you could actually feel some warmth behind his words as he moved closer, ARCHpad in hand. “And simple doesn’t have to mean cheap.”

You spent the rest of the day with Ryan and his team, going through each room of the apartment selecting the right color scheme, wallpapers, and furniture, browsing the website of some of the most expensive design stores you had ever seen.

Ryan tried his best to be gentle and kind with you but you could tell he was losing patience with your hesitation every time your gaze landed on the price of a specific product, making you once again scared by the amount you were spending.

“You know we could furniture several small houses with what we’re investing in this one apartment?” you asked Ryan as he kept pushing you into buying this gorgeous couch that costed more than what your mother made in a month.

“Yes, and that’s dreadful,” Ryan heaved an annoyed sigh. “Would not buying this couch fix anything?”

“Well, no…”

“Good!” he cut you off, clicking on the purchase button. “That settles then. And we’re done for today, tomorrow Alicia will come over with options for your wardrobe.”

You looked down at yourself. After Ryan and his team invaded your home, you put on a pair of leggings under your sleeping shirt and pulled your hair up in a bun. You didn’t think you looked that bad, did you?

“What’s wrong with my wardrobe right now?” You asked and Ryan let out a sharp laugh, putting away his things in his briefcase.

“You’re funny. I can see why Mr. Reeves likes you,” he pecked your cheek like you two were best friends and led his crew to the door, handing you a card. “Call if you need anything else.”

You waited until they were out of sight to grab your phone and text Keanu, asking if he was available to talk. His answer was to make a videocall you.

“I have five minutes before an acquisition meeting, so talk fast.” You could see the tension in his shoulders, on the crease of his brow and the steel in his eyes. It made you immediately regret having reached out at all.

“It’s not important. Have a good meeting,” you said, thumb already hovering over the end button.

“Wait,” Keanu sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. It’s been a shit week. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“No, I just…” you paused, looking away. Part of you wanted to be there to ease whatever tension seemed to be lingering in his frame. Part of you didn’t know if you should feel like that considering you were just his… you didn’t even know how to describe it. “Do you not like how I look? How I dress?”

“What?” Keanu frowned in confusion. “Of course, I do. What makes you…” he paused realization coloring his features. “Alicia.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“It’s not like that, sweetheart,” he explained. “One: I could care less about how you dress. As a matter of fact, if you could walk naked for the rest of your life, I’d die a happy man.” That made you giggle, a blush creeping up your cheeks because Keanu was talking about you two in the long-term and that made you undeniably happy. “Unfortunately, I can’t take you to a charity ball in t-shirt and leggings… I mean, I could…” he smirked, and you chuckled again. “That’s where Alicia comes in. I’ll make sure to tell her not to bug you with anything other than event clothes. How about that?”

“I can handle that,” you smiled at him, tucking one lock of hair behind your ear as you looked at his considerably more relaxed expression. The creases in his face this time from amusement and not tension. You preferred those much better. “I miss you.”

The words escaped you and for a moment you regretted, but Keanu’s expression softened up even more as he gazed at the screen.

“I miss you too,” he breathed out. “Wish I could fly over for the weekend, but there’s so much shit going on…”

“It’s alright, Ke, We can handle another two weeks,” you tried to fake a cheerful tone but from the look in his face, he didn’t buy it and neither did you. Someone called his name from out of the frame and he looked away for a second, nodding before glancing back at you. “Have a good meeting.”

“Thank you. Call you tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The next day, you were dressed and caffeinated when Alicia knocked on your door, also with her small crew of people. You had given a lot of thought about the entire thing after talking to Keanu and even if you didn’t want to do a complete makeover, you wouldn’t mind changing a bit to better fit in his world. In your new world.

Maggie agreed that if you had the chance to look a little nicer, with fancier clothes and professional help for your hair and nails, what would be the harm? It would even help with job interviews. Every advisor you had even been to always told you that the way one looked could make or break their chances.

So, you let Alicia and her team work on you. Waxing every hair of your body – and sweet Jesus that hurt – leaving you so smooth your skin felt soft like a baby’s. Cut your hair in a modern new long bob that flattered your face; fix your eyebrows and give you tutorials on makeup for different occasions as well as saddle you with so many beauty products the marble counter of your sink looked like it housed a small army.

When it came to clothing, Alicia took time to hear your needs as she offered several new choices with your style in mind and you loved every single one of them, from the basic tees and jeans to the pencil skirts and button-downs for business occasion and the party gowns and cocktail dresses. They were all gorgeous.

“Now, lingerie…” she said, opening a different case and giving you a sly smile. “There are a few sets that Mr. Reeves picked himself.”

“He did?” Your voice squeaked slightly, as you rubbed your nape and looked anywhere but, Alicia.

“Yes. He has excellent taste,” she said, spreading five pairs of bra and panties, three corsets, two slips, and a robe on the bed.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, touching the rich lace and silky soft satin of the slip and the robe. They were all gorgeous and heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of putting these on for Keanu, letting him devour your shape and curves as you paraded for him. A shiver ran down your spine and you finally met Alicia’s eyes.

“Yes, to all of those,” your gaze moved to her case. “What else do you have?”

By the time you were done picking all kinds of lingerie imaginable, the sun was starting to set and you knew Keanu would be calling soon, so you said your goodbyes to Alicia, thanking her profusely as you guided the way to the front door.

“One more thing,” she said, digging something out of her bag, a square black box and handing it to you. “He told me to give you this.”

“What is it?” you asked with a frown, undoing the bow on top, but before you could open the lid, she rested a hand over yours.

“Maybe you should take a look in private,” she smirked at you, eyebrows raised and the rush of blood to your cheeks made your face hot.

“Oh.” Alicia winked at you before stepping out, leaving you alone with the black box and your thoughts.

You let the box on the bed, still too afraid of opening it; choosing instead to take a long bath. It had been a long weekend with too many people coming and going. You just wanted the chance of soaking up in the bubbly water, enjoy yourself before putting on one the slips Keanu picked and settling in bed to take a look inside the box.

It wasn’t as terrifying as you first thought, just a purple silicone thing, shaped like a U and for a while, you wondered how exactly it worked. You had never owned a sex toy before, so you had no clue what to do with that one. And from what you could see, there weren’t instructions included.

The vibrations of your phone made you startle and you scrabbled to put the toy out of view before picking up, sighing in relief when you saw it was Keanu. You accepted his video call, leaning back on the headboard to make yourself more comfortable.

“Wow!” he breathed out when the video connected and he saw you, making you grin. “You look… wow.”

‘I made you speechless,” you chuckled. “That has to be a first.”

“Not a first, but very rare,” he said, his voice turning lower and you could already feel the shiver running down your spine. “Let me see all of you.”

With a nod, you moved to stand in front of the mirror, shifting cameras, and Keanu let out a sharp and shaky exhale, shifting in his own bed and you could once again see his bare torso.

“You look amazing, sweetheart.” The hunger in his eyes was enough to make you flush, your skin suddenly hot. “Did you get my gift?”

“You mean this?” you asked, returning to bed and showing the toy. “Yes, though I have no idea what to do with it.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t get it for you to play alone,” he smirked at you. “Now, I’m going to send you a link so we can move this to a private channel. You’re gonna need your computer for this.”

You obeyed his instructions, setting up the computer between your legs and clicking the link he emailed you, it loaded into a simple videoconference app with no identification and you wondered if Keanu made this especially for these occasions.

“That’s better,” he smiled at you and now you could see more of him, of his naked body and you swallowed hard at the sight of his cock resting on the nest of dark hair.

You could never get tired of looking at Keanu like this, completely naked for your hungry gaze. He was fit, but not overly defined. You knew his broad torso housed solid muscles, hard and strong and he was capable to pin you down or lift you up and that was all that mattered. The sight was much more appealing than a model’s six-pack.

“This is safe?” you asked, the idea of doing this on camera making you shy.

“Perfectly safe. I promise,” Keanu smiled reassuringly. “Now, I want you to touch yourself. Pretend it’s my hand.”

You settled back on the pillows, letting your fingertips travel down over the hollow of your throat, and the valley of your breasts. You closed your eyes to try and imagine his hand, his touch, but your digits were too small, too soft in comparison. Still, his pleased hum was enough to spur you one and you, circled one nipple over the silk of your slip, making the nub harden, raising goosebumps on your arms and legs. You could feel the slow, lazy tendrils of pleasure waking up in your center, sending tiny sparks of enjoyment and heat through your veins.

“You look so fucking sexy like that,” Keanu breathed out, his voice rougher than before, breathier. “God! I miss your taste. I miss your smell. I just wanna bury my face on your cunt, lick you up until you’re writhing and riding my mouth.”

You keened softly, pressing your legs together as the throb in your core started, his words panting such an enticing picture.

“We haven’t done that yet, have we? Have you sitting on my face, let you ride it, suffocate me with your juices.” His smirk was one of the dirtiest things you have ever seen and as the need grew inside you, your grip on your breast tightened, making you moan. “Do you want that? Do you want to ride my face?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed out, shoving the straps of your slip down so you could better touch your breasts. You sucked a thumb, flickering against your nipples and you arched at the sensation, your skin so hot, your lungs tight, making your breath come out in desperate pants.

“And after you drench my face, I’ll put you in all fours and fuck that pretty cunt,” Keanu continued, making the throb more intense and your core wetter. “Are you soaked, sweetheart? Dripping on the bed?”

You lifted your skirt and spread your legs to the camera, watching as Keanu cursed and fisted his hardening cock.

“Yes, sir,” you pushed one finger inside yourself and swirled your clit with your thumb, making a bolt of pleasure shot through you. “So wet.”

“Good,” he growled. “Get the toy. You’re gonna put the larger end inside your cunt, the smaller one should press against your clit.”

You obeyed through the hazy of your pleasure. It felt weird at first, the texture foreign against your entrance and your walls clenched slightly, keeping the toy out, but you played with your clit a little more, while you teased your slit with the rubber and finally, your walls allowed the toy passage.

It wasn’t a large as Keanu’s cock, but it did give you a sort of fullness and it teased your g-spot slightly, but not enough to do anything for you. You figured there should be some kind of vibrating function, but as far as you could see, there weren’t any buttons.

Before you could ask Keanu, the toy came to life, making you shout and shake, the vibrations coursing through your clit and center, kindling your pleasure like an erupting volcano and when you managed to finally open your eyes and look at the screen, Keanu had a huge, shit-eating smirk and was holding his phone in hand. He was controlling the toy.

“Feels good, sweetheart?” he asked, stroking his cock and you nodded, getting lost in the sensations. “Keep those thighs open, baby. I wanna see you.”

“Sorry, Mr. Reeves,” you whimpered, forcing your legs apart. The pleasure was so intense your first instinct was to close up, keep that pulsing deep inside so you could enjoy every second.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he asked.

“So, fucking good,” you sighed, rolling your hips, trying to find more of that sweet pleasure, your hands squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

“Better than my cock?”

“No,” you whimpered, looking at him with heavy lids. “Never.”

“Good answer,” he smirked, and the vibrations went up, making you moan and writhe, your walls convulsing around the toy, as if unsure if they should try to push it away or deeper inside you. “Fuck! You looked so pretty all flushed and undone for me. I wish I could record this. I can almost taste how desperate you are to cum.”

“Please, sir,” you whined, head thrown back, back arched. The knot in your center so tight and so good but you still needed something, that little nudge to send you over the edge.

“If I was there,” Keanu said, his hand working faster around his hard, leaking cock. His words punctuated by little grunts. “I’d have you on your knees, sucking my cock while that toy worked that cunt. I’d make you choke on my cock until you could feel your throat around my head. Do you want that?”

“Fuck! Yes, Mr. Reeves,” you were rocking your hips steadily now, tears of frustration running down your temples as the pleasure got unbearable, but not enough to make you come undone.

“Or maybe I could fuck that tight ass? Take yet another virginity of yours?”

The mere suggestion coupled with a sudden increase of vibrations nearly made you scream as your orgasm surged through you like a crashing wave, pulling you under. You cried out his name, feeling the gush of warm liquid soak your thighs and the sheet beneath you.

“Well that was unexpected,” Keanu chuckled at little, breathless and flushed himself, his belly and chest smeared with pearly white cum as he turned off the toy. “I didn’t know you could squirt, sweetheart.”

“I, uh, I didn’t know either…” you panted, your cheeks burning, and you could barely look at the screen, too busy staring at the huge wet spot under you.

“It was fucking hot,” he called out, making you peer at him. “Next time, I want you to do it all over my cock.”

“Yes, sir…” you gasped, your center pulsing as you looked at him. “Thirteen days and counting.”

“Too fucking long,” he sighed, looking almost angry as he cleaned his chest with a tissue. “I just want you with me. One week together and I already miss having you pressed against me when I sleep.” Keanu chuckled to himself. “I’m spending most of the night awake because you’re not there. How pathetic is that?”

You bit your lip and shifted in the bed, avoiding the wet spot as you met his brown eyes, your hearts doing acrobatic flips due to his confession.

“It’s not,” you whispered. “I miss you too. I miss your smell. I even bought a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon to see if I can get the room to smell like you. It didn’t work.”

Keanu snorted, his gaze locking you in place as he stared through the screen.

“What did you do to me, sweetheart? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way.”

“Me either,” you confessed, that giddiness returning along with a boldness you didn’t recognize. “Keanu, I think…”

Before you could finish your words, his phone started ringing and he looked over at the caller ID and cursed.

“I need to take this, sweetheart. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

He turned off the videocall before you could reply and you sighed, lowering the lid of your laptop down and cuddling the pillow. Were you really about to tell Keanu you loved him? A man you barely knew? That your entire relationship was based on a contract? Did you lose your mind?

Then again, could you even deny to yourself anymore? You did love him. You were pretty sure you fell the second your lips touched his that first time around. Even if you shouldn’t have. Even if it would only bring you trouble.

But whenever Keanu said stuff like that; bared himself to you like that, you felt maybe you weren’t crazy in wanting him as much as you did. You thought you saw through the cracks of the armor he kept raised something that went beyond the contract. More than plain affection or desire.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be more to his, but if you were to find out, you needed to be with him in person, push past his walls until you could find out if you were right or out of your mind.

You needed to go to LA.

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[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Slippin’ Mickeys

Only 3 stories by Slippin’ Mickeys ended up at Gossamer, but she’s written many more stories than that. She’s also one of the few authors who posted numerous stories during the show’s original run and then again in the revival years. I’ve recced some of my favorites of her stories here, including Last Chance Falls and Currahee. Big thanks to Slippin’ Mickeys for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I would say that it does and doesn't surprise me. It surprises me that anyone would want to read something I wrote all those years ago, (only in that I was an actual teenager at the time, and had no chops at all -- I've grown a lot as a writer, and honestly have trouble reading my old stuff because I would have made much different creative decisions now). But the fanfiction that came out of the original run of the show -- from almost day one -- was so rich and varied and a lot of it so well written that I am not the least bit surprised that people want to read it today. I go back and read old favorites often, and am always thrilled to find something that's new-to-me, even if it's 27 years old.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

The first thing I think about when I think about my fandom experience are the friends I made along the way. The X-Files came up with the internet, and there was a whole new way of connecting with people that liked the things that you liked. To this day, I am good friends with many people that I met through the show back in 1997-98. When the revival came about, I dove back in, and made new, more recent friendships that are just as rich. I love the show, but I also love the people I met along the way.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

I first got into the show's online community on some random message board that I think I probably found through a Yahoo search one day in a computer lab on my university's campus. I connected with one woman from Greece named Fay that day, who invited me to join a group of women that chatted about the show after it aired on Monday nights. After the first time I hooked up with them, we talked almost daily via ICQ. Later, in the early aughts, I found the forums on Mighty Big TV/Television Without Pity, where some of the most intelligent discussion was going on. The forums were heavily moderated, and so they were always on topic, and it was just a smart, funny, great place to be.

Eventually, I started working for TWoP as both a writer and moderator (surprise! A lot of people don't know this because TWoP protected the identities of their mods so well, but I was the X-Files board mod after Jessica left!). It was my first paid writing gig and opened doors for me both professionally and personally. Two TWoP recappers were in my wedding!

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Fanfiction opened my eyes to storytelling as a medium. I'd obviously gone to school and read books, but it opened my eyes to words to could do and be. It was a heady time. There were stories of every stripe. Short, long, canon-compliant, AU, experimental, you name it. We had such gifted writers, too. To this day, I'd almost rather read a piece of well written fanfic than a good book. Fanfic made me want to be a storyteller myself.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

It was the 'ship. God bless the ship. My first episode was Never Again, but I didn't watch again until I was sitting with my college roommate freshman year and she was like "sorry, but I have to watch The X-Files on Sunday nights." That first episode was Redux. The next week was Redux II, and by then it was all over for me. The lengths Mulder and Scully would go to for each other? And the relationship wasn't even sexual? Here were two people who loved each other. Really loved each other. Selflessly. I was SO IN.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

At first, I started reading it. This was back when you could only watch the show in reruns or on those VHS tapes that were sold in three packs that had two eps on each tape (I still have the trading cards that came with them), so after I burned through the VHS options (of which there were few), and set my VCR to tape the weekly reruns on FX, I needed MORE. I found fanfic. And in fanfic, Mulder and Scully actually like, kissed and maybe even had sex! I read everything I could get my hands on. Pretty soon, I wanted to write it myself.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Things are tough these days. It's a hard world to live in, and politics aside, it just feels like everything is falling apart around us. When I first found the show, my life was in a bit of upheaval and I dove into the fandom to distract myself. I'm doing the same thing these days. When the show ended, I left the fandom and lived without it for about 15 years. But when the revival came (and really only after finishing season 11 -- season 10 didn't do much for me), I dove back in. I have quite a few more responsibilities these days, but when I can't watch the news anymore, I log on to XF Twitter (I use my fandom account far more than my IRL account) or Tumblr and get lost for a while. And most nights find me reading or writing fanfic before bed. When the world gets better (I'm cautiously optimistic) and the show has been off the air for years and years, will I leave again? Maybe. But for now, it's once again my happy place.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Nothing hardcore. The X-Files is my ride or die.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I do an occasional episode or movie rewatch. Not too often, but when I'm jonesing and have 45 free minutes, I'll put one on. But I'm writing fanfic again, and I get hit with inspiration at random and odd intervals, so it's safe to say I find myself thinking about Mulder and Scully probably more than is healthy.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

All the time. The old stuff, the new stuff, the good stuff. If I have five minutes and my kid is entertaining himself? I'll happy pull out an old favorite.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I'm reluctantly abstaining from this question, as I'm still active in the fandom and I know that naming favorites will hurt some feelings.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Of The Eight Winds is probably my favorite. I've had a lot of fun writing AU's lately. It's a nice creative outlet, taking our favorite agents and plunking them in a totally different world.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Do I! I have a whole ass queue. It's frankly irresponsible.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I was writing professionally before I had a baby, and I took years off to be a stay at home mom. Once my kiddo was finally in school full time, I started writing again. With the pandemic, that's for the most part on hold, as I just don't have the bandwidth to dedicate to professional work. Fanfic is easier to play with when you only have five minutes here or there, and it's also great exercise when it comes to plotting and prose, so I'm  sticking with fic for now. When the kiddos are all back in school, maybe I can start getting paid again.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I get a lot of prompts that I just adore. And honestly, a lot of times, I'll post a stupid picture or ridiculous prompt of my own on Twitter and get dared to write it. If the idea gets stuck in my craw, I generally have to exorcise the demon.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Bad Blood had just aired and I was obsessed with it. I wanted to pay homage to it, so took Mulder's "who slipped him the mickey?" quote and ran with it. Do I regret that? Sometimes.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband knows and is supportive. He's a working writer, so he supports my endeavors, though I know he wishes I were doing something I could monetize. But it makes me happy, and ultimately: happy wife, happy life and all that jazz.

The friends of mine that I've made through the fandom all know and are super supportive.

As for the rest, well... I have a nom de plume on purpose!

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

All my newest work is on AO3. My old stuff can be found on various archives. Like the truth... it's out there.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I'd leave it with: we're a blessed fandom. The show we stan (even with the real stinkers, there's always something to love) keeps giving, the fellow fans are all some of the smartest, sweetest, and most dedicated people out there... we've been blessed for 25 years, and I don't see that stopping any time soon.

(Posted by Lilydale on August 11, 2020)

[writingtoforgetreality]

Just this one time (Steve Rogers x Reader - College!AU)

Request: Hey love I see that you are taking requests and I’m just in desperate need of a college au Steve Rogers moment lmaoo💀 maybe they’re best friends and there’s like this party that’s coming up and she dresses to the nines and was planning to confess her feelings there but sees him with another girl but happy ending and lots of fluff please | Or maybe a steve Rogers fic based on the song are you bored yet by wallows (by @jazzzhargrove), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Steve & you have been roommates for two years now. You were best friends even though you have started to develop a crush on him. One day, Steve asks you to accompany him to a party of one of your friends. You agree, planning on confessing your feelings for him. At the party, a bad surprise awaits you…

Words: 4,310

Warnings: slow burn? (idk man, I didn’t mean for it to be this long), lack of experience when it comes to college (pls don’t blame me), Steve going from angel to devil to angel, a bit of angst, happy ending (I swear)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

College. You imagine something when you hear this, am I right? Like, the cliché teenage movies with not enough budget that make you think you know what college is like. You were thinking the exact same not too long ago. Now you were here & nope, it was nothing like you ever imagined.

A bit over 2 years ago, you graduated from high school. Finally. You hated that place. The only reason you continued going there was because you wanted to get a well paid job in the future. Yeah, it was a hell ride but you made it out alive. Time to focus on college.

The first real problem had begun before your actual classes had started. Living far away from college meant that you had to live somewhere on the campus. You looked at the rent & almost shitted yourself. There was no way you could pay for this on your own. Your parents already made sure to pay your college tuitions so you could not ask them for more. So you decided to use your twitter account for something important for once. You sent out a tweet, asking if anyone would be interested in sharing an apartment near your college, preferably someone who studied there as well. Not too long after that you got a private message from the account @steve_rogers. He said that he was interested in moving in with you since he could not afford an apartment himself. Before you wrote him back, though, you checked out his account, making sure it was not a kidnapper or someone like that. His tweets seemed truthfully & he was of equal age. Perfect, right? You replied with an address of a coffeeshop near the campus & told him to meet you there. Two days later, you guys were sitting there, drinking a coffee & planning everything out. You were happy that he really was a Steve Rogers who would be studying at a college & not a…50-year old creep. What was even better was that this Steve was handsome as hell & had the personality of an angel. You also found out that he would be studying the same thing as you, Fine Art. He would be a good roommate. The two of you exchanged numbers before saying goodbye so you could stay in contact & ask if more questions appeared. You were happy. You found someone trustworthy who would share an apartment with you. That meant that both, Steve & you, had enough money to pay for the rent & to have leisure, too. You could not wait to move in & start your college-journey.

A month later, your parents rented you a truck to move all of your stuff into your new apartment. You were so excited. Not only for your new home but also because you would be meeting Steve again. Ever since the coffeeshop, the two of you had been texting & calling each other all the time. At first, it was simply because of your apartment but after some time, you just started talking casually & became fast friends. Steve told you he was already at your new home & told you you would love it. The drive seemed to last forever but eventually, you arrived. Steve was already waiting for you outside, wanting to help you with all of your boxes. You got out of your car, sprinted towards him & hugged him like you had known him forever. Weird…you had never had such a connection with someone. This was the start of a great friendship, you were sure.

*Present Day*

What's wrong? You've been asking but I don't have an answer How come? I'm still thinking, let's pretend to fall asleep now When we get old, will we regret this? Too young to think about all that shit And stallin' only goes so far when you've got a head start

“(Y/N)?“ Steve screamed from the bathroom. He always did that. “You know you can still ask me when you finish showering, yeah?“ you screamed back. “That’s not as much fun, though.“ he answered. You shook your head & let out a low chuckle.

A few minutes later, Steve exited the bathroom, wearing just a white towel which hung low on his hips. He did that so casually, like it was the most normal thing on earth. You wished he would not have this effect on you. When did you catch feelings for him? You were not sure. All you knew was that he acted like the best friend you had always craved. Why did you have a crush on him? You would never make a move though, not wanting to ruin your friendship. He did not like you that way, you were certain. He was just nice, that was his personality. He treated everyone like that.

“(Y/N)?“ Steve asked again. “Yeah, Steve, I heard you the first time.“ you said, trying to look at his face ,& not to his white towel, which was incredibly hard at that moment. Staring would make everything even weirder. “Trevor is having this big party tonight & he asked me to come.“ Steve looked into your (Y/E) eyes. Why did he tell you? It was not like you attended parties that often. He was someone who enjoyed these “college activities“ but you always got overwhelmed with big crowds. Steve knew this though. Usually, whenever someone had asked him to come to a party & you had told him you did not want to go, then he had always stayed with you at your room.

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, "Are you bored yet?" And if you're feeling lonely you should tell me Before this ends up as another memory Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie? Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?

“Um…okay? And?“ confusion was written all over your face. What was his intention? The two of you made plans earlier, wanting to stay in to study together. “Well, I wanted to ask you if you wanna accompany me. Trevor would be fine with it, I’m sure.“ he scratched his neck, knowing damn well that you never were in a party mood. “Are you serious? I thought we’d study tonight? We have very important exams coming up, y’know.“ you tried reasoning. “I know, I know & I’m sorry but I canceled Trever so many times & he insists on me coming.“ Steve came a little closer, your eyes still focused on his. “Okay, then go? I’m not gonna force you to stay with me. Go & have some fun, we’ll study on another day.“ you tried to keep up your strong voice but deep down you were kind of disappointed. You were looking forward to tonight. Your late night study sessions always ended with extremely serious conversations & then with popcorn & a movie. “Nah…um, I actually want you to go with me. I really don’t wanna show up alone. Come on, please? Just this one time, I swear!“ he pleaded. Steve said he did not want to show up alone but in reality he just wanted to spend time with you & wanted to show you off. You guys were not a thing yet but every person saw that you were pretty close & assumed that you soon would be dating. Maybe you were just too oblivious to see it. “I haven’t been to a party in forever. I don’t even know if I have the right clothes. I don’t wanna look like an outsider.“ “You always look perfect, though.“ the second he said this, he started blushing. You did not realize & he continued. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Besides, I’m not gonna leave you there alone. We’re gonna stay together & if you wanna go back to our apartment, then I’m gonna go with you.“ you smiled at his words. Did he even know that his words affected you that way? Maybe he was being sincere & you were the only person who heard him say such cute words. On the other hand…was this not just his personality?

You agreed on accompanying Steve but only because of one reason. Tonight was finally the time you would confess your feelings for him. The party was in a few hours & Steve decided he would go back to the library for a while to start studying. He needed a bit more time to get everything into his head than you. “See ya!“ you screamed at Steve while he left your apartment. Enough time to make yourself look presentable for tonight. You wanted to impress him, to let him know you were this dressed up only because of him. Still, you could not exaggerate. Staying true to yourself was one of your priorities but you got this.

At first, you took a long shower, washing your hair. Stepping out, you dried yourself off with a towel.  For now, you stripped over one of Steve’s shirts. Sometimes, when he was not looking, you would go to his dresser & grab some shirts. He never cared too much, saying they looked better on you anyway. After the bathroom, you went over to your bedroom. Back then, Steve let you grab the bigger room because he knew how much you loved a lot of space. You sat down at your white dressing table. It was a mess, as always. You put makeup on every single day, there was no need for you to move the stuff back to its place. This way, you could find the needed products faster. You wanted to impress Steve, yeah, but you never went crazy with your makeup so you would do a tiny bit more than your daily look. It took you longer than usual, wanting to make everything as perfect as possible. In your eyes you succeeded. For your hair, you decided on (fav/hairstyle). The mirror showed your reflection & for once you were content with what you saw. Steve had come back by now but he did not want to bother you in your room. He simply went back to his own bedroom, deciding it would be time to get ready for the party himself. Now, you were standing in front of your closet, unsure of what you wanted to pick. You searched through everything but nothing seemed to fit. Great, what would you do now? Shortly before you wanted to give up & tell Steve you could not go, your eyes skimmed over a black dress at the back of your closet. You almost forgot about this one. Your hand grabbed the hanger & examined the dress. It was short but not too short. You had worn it once, when your mom went shopping with you & kind of forced you to try it on. She bought it for you, saying it would come in handy one day. Bless her, she was right. You stripped the black fabric on & went over to your floor-length mirror. The dress hugged your figure perfectly. You almost could not believe that the person in the mirror was you. A smile spread across your face. Tonight was your night.

“Sweetheart? It’s time. Trevor called me. He said there are already a bunch of people. Are you ready?“ Steve knocked at your door. He was not sure if he could come in or not so he stayed outside. He did not want to walk in on you changing or something. “A second!“ Steve heard your hurried steps. You grabbed your black shoes, put them on & walked over. Then you opened the door & he was shocked. He had seen you in dresses & all but this time? This felt different. You saw his stare & smiled at the floor, suddenly not sure if you looked good anymore. Steve answered your question before you could say anything. “Wow…You look…You look gorgeous. I mean, you always do but this, um, you know I-“ he stuttered. Did you just make him embarrassed? To stop him, you simply answered. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.“ you smirked & looked him up & down. He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt, a pair of jeans & his go-to black vans. How did he look this good while literally wearing the most basic clothes on earth? “Ma’am?“ he faked an accent, holding out a hand for you to grab. You laughed at him, took his hand & let him lead you to his car. Trevor’s party was at his house, his parents were away on a business trip. Arriving at Steve’s car, he opened your door because, duh, he is a gentleman. All you could do was smile at him. The butterflies got more & more present. Stupid, stupid crush. You did not even noticed that Steve got in the car too, starting it & driving away. He was never the biggest fan alcohol & neither were you so you trusted him with driving. Shortly after, you came to a stop in front of a big house. Even though Trevor & you had been friends for some time now, you had never been to his home. You were impressed. Steve helped you out of the car but he did not stop holding your hand. He was the cutest. This had to mean something, right? As the two of you walked in, hand in hand, you could already smell the alcohol from everywhere. Looking around, you saw many people already being too drunk to realize a thing. It was barely 10 pm. That was one reason why you did not like parties. There were so many people, you were glad Steve was still holding your hand, otherwise you would have lost him. Where he was going? You did not know. Though he turned around, screaming something at you, you could not hear anything. The music was blasting way too loud. People really liked that? Suddenly you came to a stop. The music was a bit quieter, thank god, & Steve talked to someone. You looked over to find Trevor. As soon as he saw you, he took you in for a hug. Yeah, he had been drinking. He was not someone who would hug you. Nevermind, you still hugged him back. Trevor said how happy he was that you both could make it & that you should feel like home. Feeling like home? That was a bit hard with this crowd around but you tried. You looked over your shoulder for a second, thinking you heard someone say your name. Apparently you misheard someone because nobody was behind you. Turning back, Trevor was gone. Where did he go? It did not matter. At least you had Steve next to you still. You would literally die without him here.

“Hey, let’s head outside, yeah? Trevor said it’s more fun out there.“ Steve looked at you, letting go of your hand. Suddenly you felt cold. Why did he let go? “Um…sure.“ you followed him outside, making sure not to lose him. You were not sure anymore. Did he like you more than a friend? Maybe you were too embarrassing to show around at a party. He said he wanted you to come, right? You should not stress about it too much. Arriving outside, you could feel a cold breeze hitting your skin. It was quite nice though, fresh air. You could not help but feel a bit lost, even next to Steve. You went to grab his hand again, wanting to feel his comfort but as soon as your fingertips touched him he moved his hand into his pocket, avoiding your gaze. Was that a coincidence? Or did he not want to hold your hand anymore? You were confused & you frowned. Maybe tonight was not your night after all. You were lost in thought until someone bumped into you. “Ssssorry.“ a drunk male said, well…tried to, at least. You were glad he did not have a drink he spilled over you. Your dress, your look in general, was still intact. “No problem.“ you hoped he would just leave again. You definitely were not in the mood for this. As soon as you turned around to tell Steve you would like to leave you were shocked to not find him next to you anymore. Where was he? He promised you to stay with you the entire time. Great. Just great. Looking around, you tried finding him which was a bit hard because of the large crowd. He was not outside. Walking back inside, you tried finding someone you knew from your classes but without success. Trevor was not in sight either. You started panicking. Steve knew how much you despised this.

Feels like I've known you my whole life I can see right through your lies I don't know where we're going But I'd like to be by your side If you could tell me how you're feeling Maybe we'd get through this undefeated Holding on for so long

You had been looking for him for 30 minutes now. He did not pick up his phone & neither did he answer your texts. Deciding you would give it one more try, you started wandering around inside the house yet again. At the corner of your eye you saw a broad figure, a dark blue sweatshirt. Finally, you thought. You took a closer look. No, this could not be. This was Steve, locking lips with some bitch. Was he serious? Tears started welling up in your eyes. He wandered off to kiss a random girl? You thought you knew him well but apparently you were wrong. Steve tried fighting off the girl who just came at him & started kissing him. What the fuck? She obviously never heard of consent. He opened his eyes to push her away only to find you a few feet away from him, obviously upset. He could see your tears. No, no, no. By the time he managed to push the girl off & told her it was completely dumb what she just did because she was obviously drunk, you were already out of sight. Fuck, he lost you. Of course it looked like he was kissing her. He needed to explain himself but he could not find you anywhere. Your phone was not on, making it impossible for him to reach you. After seeing Steve kissing this girl, you started running. You did not want to cry but you were so angry at him & yourself. He saw you as a friend, that was it. Why could you not see this before? Before you even knew where your feet dragged you, you were stood in front of your apartment door. Did you just run the entire way back home? You were tired, you wanted nothing more than to take off your makeup & that stupid dress. Your bed was waiting for you. After ridding yourself from your shoes, makeup & dress, you threw on your pajama. You usually wore Steve’s shirt but tonight, you did not want to smell his cologne. All you wanted to do is put your blanket over your head & try to forget all that had happened. No matter how hard you tried, the tears kept streaming down your cheeks.

Steve searched the entire house & the garden for you but you where nowhere to be found. He knew how you acted at parties, especially when you where alone so he started to panic slightly. Trevor was in the entrance hall & Steve walked over to him. “Dude, hey! Why did (Y/N) leave earlier? I thought you drove her here?“ Trevor managed to speak out. He was done for tonight, that was sure. “Fuck.“ Steve whispered. “She ran outta the door? Did she say where she was heading?“ Steve’s heartbeat got faster & faster. He fucked up big time. “Yeah, sure, because she had the energy to talk to me while she was literally bawling her eyes out.“ Gosh, Trevor’s sarcasm when he was drunk was the worst. Steve wished he could slap him but there were more important things to do. You. The only thing that made sense to him was you running back to your shared apartment. Even though the both of you had been living there for two years, you still were not that familiar with the neighborhood. You would never run into the dark without knowing where to go. Steve was still sober, he got into his car & drove back home, hoping he would find you there. There was light radiating from your windows which meant that you where inside. Steve let out a sigh, his heartbeat slowly going back to normal. Now the only thing he had to do was explaining himself to you. He had to confess, otherwise you would think the absolute worst of him, if you did not already.

You did not hear the main door opening, too lost in your thoughts. Your tears had dried by now but you were exhausted. Falling asleep was not an option though, you were overthinking. A knock on your door startled you. “(Y/N).“ Steve whispered, leaning his forehead on your door. He closed his eyes, hoping you would answer. Hell, he would wake you if you were asleep already. His instinct told him that you were not but he did not get an answer either. Nevertheless, he slowly opened your door. You thought that if you kept silent he would go away again. There was no way you could face him right now. Steve knew you better than anyone. You were not sleeping so he walked over to your bed, sitting down at the edge of it. It was now or never. Steve’s hand moved to your blanket, pulling it off of you. His heart broke at your sight. You had been crying because of him. You were feeling like this because of him. Your eyes were open, looking up at him through your lashes.

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, "Are you bored yet?" And if you're feeling lonely you should tell me Before this ends up as another memory Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie? (Yeah, oh) Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?

„Sweetheart?“ one of his hands started caressing your cheek & you were too tired to tell him to stop. “Please don’t sweetheart me. Not after what happened.“ your voice broke while trying to talk to him. You hated being so weak in front of him but you could not hide anymore. He had hurt you, a lot. “If you could just let me explain…“ “Go ahead then, it’ not like I should care, right?“ you slightly chuckled but Steve could hear the pain behind it. “I know you wanted to hold my hand back then. I only put it in my pocket because I didn’t want it to happen at a crappy party with drunk crackheads everywhere.“ that made you smile a bit so Steve continued. “I looked around for a nice, quiet place & then suddenly Dylan dragged me back inside even though I told him you were still outside. He told me it wouldn’t take long but I shouldn’t have trusted him.“ you rose up to sit in front of him, feeling a bit better. “It’s Dylan, what did you expect?“ you told Steve with a chuckle, an honest one this time. “You’re right…“ Steve chuckled. “Anyway, he simply wanted me to meet his new boyfriend aka a complete stranger he had met 2 hours prior. When I told him I need to head back to you I couldn’t find you anymore. So I assumed you went looking for me so I went looking for you. Now, sweetheart, I need you to look at me when I say this.“ he lifted your chin so your (Y/E) were locked on his blue ones. You nodded for him to continue. “Suddenly, this drunk girl came running at me, saying how much she missed me. She called me her boyfriend, Max, so I knew she was completely wasted. Before I could tell her that I am not her lost boyfriend, she started kissing me. She caught me off guard but as soon as I realized what was going on, I tried pushing her away. You had already seen me, though. (Y/N), I didn’t kiss her. Why would I ever kiss someone like her? I only wanna kiss one person & this someone is sitting right in front of me.“ he finished. Did he just? “W-What? Did yo-“ but before you could finish, Steve pulled you closer to him, putting his lips onto yours. You had dreamed for so long & it was finally happening. Steve & you were kissing each other & it felt like everything the two of you had ever imagined. As you broke apart to breath again, he kept staring into your eyes & rested his forehead against yours. “(Y/N), sweetheart, I love you, only you.“ his voice was barely above a whisper, making sure you were the only one who heard him even though it was just you two. Your eyes filled with tears again but this time because of pure happiness. It was your plan to confess to him tonight but who thought this night would end this way? “I love you too, Steve.“ you kissed him again, this time with more passion to let him know how long you had waited to do this. He stripped off his sweatshirt & jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. At first you were confused. What did he have in mind? But the second he laid down next to you, spooning you, you new what his intention was. He wanted to stay with you for the night & you were not complaining. Steve & you fell asleep, cuddling, relieved that this night, in the end, would be life-changing for the both of you.

Published 04/15/2020 by Cathy

[theskyeandsea]

Dark Waters || Leah & Skylar

Timing: January 4th, 2021

Location: Nic and Skylar’s Home

Tagging: @phoenixleah & @theskyeandsea

Description: Leah wants to understand why Skylar’s behaving this way. Skylar gives her a Lift

Warnings: Drug use, addiction, depression, chronic illness, drowning 

Something had to be done about Skylar, and Leah would be damned if she wasn’t going to be a part in helping. Ever since the moment she healed her at the library, Skylar was different, isolated, and standoff-ish. And maybe it was true that Leah didn’t know her enough to care so much, but with the only experiences they ever had together being on all accounts pretty traumatic, there was a sort of invisible bond there. Skylar could claim all she wanted that they weren’t friends, but Leah knew better; it was as if they were closer to family. Skylar said she had a way to help Leah understand, which to her just meant she was finally willing to reach out and accept some help. It was a little unexpected, but it was definitely good news. She let out a breath as she walked the final steps to Skylar’s front door, remembering how disheveled and out of it the girl seemed the last time she dropped her off here. After shooting a quick text to Skylar that she was there, she knocked on the door gently to reiterate. As the door opened, she tried not to let herself react at what met her. Skylar looked like a shadow of her former self, and it brought back flashes of the bloodied, injured girl on her library’s reading table. “Skye”, she said, pressing her lips together. “How have you been?”

Gripping the side of the sink, Skylar splashed some water on her face. Her skin didn’t look right, it was dark and patchy and when she pressed it, she knew that she should probably feel some kind of pain but… Thanks to the Bliss, she didn’t. Thanks to the Bliss and the shavings of blue mushrooms that she’d carefully scraped, she was doing just fine. The world was a cloud of nothingness and everything at once. There was sensation without pain, thoughts without meaning, it was all just a blur and she was being pulled along, like a boat without a rudder. She’d been able to hide it from her new roommate, had written off her giggling fits as looking at something funny on her phone, and taken to holing up in her room to avoid Rio. He wouldn’t bother her in her room. And right now, he was… Well, she wasn’t sure where he was. Her phone buzzed against her leg and she pulled out the device, staring at the screen for a moment before comprehending what she was looking at. Someone… Leah? Leah was at the door?

Confused, Skylar grabbed her hearing aids from where they sat on the bathroom counter and slipped them in. She made her way to the door, Dundee trailing behind her as she padded barefoot across the cold floor. Pulling the door open a crack, Skylar blinked for a moment before shaking her head. “Why are you here? Leave me alone, Leah.”

In just a few weeks, Skylar had managed to collapse into herself, leaving a pale, sunken, and bruised mess behind. The more Leah looked at her, the more disheartening it became. She got a small glimpse of an animal behind her, and a small smirk grace her features for a moment. At the very least, Skylar wasn’t completely alone all the time here. The thought barely offered relief, though. “I’m here because I care about you”, she said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. I’m here because I wanted to make sure you were still alive. She blinked, looking to the side. “And because, well…”, she let out a breath, unsure as to why she felt nervous. She was here to help her friend, rejection be damned, so why was that feeling in the pit of her stomach so gnawing and distraction. “You implied that there are ways you could make me understand what you’re feeling, Skylar. So make me understand.” Once Skylar knew she understood, she had to accept help, right? That was why she hadn’t been accepting help so far. This had to be the solution, whatever it was.

Blinking at Leah’s words, Skylar did her best to process what was happening. She still didn’t know how to react to the woman’s presence, here, at her doorstep. The words she said, they were words, but they didn’t make sense. Why would she be here? Why would she care? At Leah’s mention of ways to understand, Skylar remembered what she’d typed in a fit of hasty rage. Gabe had slipped a rolled cigarette into her pocket one night, when she’d broken down in tears. He’d said that it was on the house, that she should use it when someone wanted to understand. She’d thought it was just weed, that his words hadn’t meant anything at all. But the scent of the lightly wrapped cigarette was different and she had a feeling that there was something else about it. Which is why she’d said that. That’s why she’d written that, right? She didn’t really know, didn’t understand. It was hard for her to keep track of much of anything these days.

“You don’t really want to understand. But, I can show you.” Skylar said quietly. How could Leah possibly understand? How could this… Lift, how could Lift ever make her understand? But, she wanted to try. Because maybe then, Leah would finally leave her alone. Maybe then, she’d know just how much this place had broken her. 

“I do want to understand”, Leah insisted, shaking her head slowly. “Especially if it’ll get you to accept some help.” Maybe Skylar would resent that part, but whether she liked it or not, she needed help. It was clear just by looking at her that she wouldn’t last on this path much longer. “Can I come in?” she asked, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She’d never even set foot in Skylar’s house, when she really thought about it. The only time she’d been here was to drop the woman off a few times. Was Skylar right, then, in her insistence that they weren’t friends? She couldn’t be. Friendships were more than a length of time or how often you saw someone. The two of them had been through a great deal of trauma together, and it made them connected whether Skylar liked it or not. Still, she was curious about this change of heart that her friend seemed to be having. “How do you want to show me?” she wondered, looking around as if the something that Skylar had might appear in front of her.

Backing away from the door, Skylar let Leah follow her inside. The house was neat and tidy, kept that way out of necessity now that Rio was living with her. She didn’t want him asking questions, wondering why she was around the house more often. She didn’t need to have that conversation, just as long as she could make sure that the lights stayed on. “You… should stay here.” She said, gesturing to the couch for the other woman to sit down. She didn’t want Leah to see where she kept her things, where she stashed the needles and the empty vials of Bliss. Dundee hopped up onto the couch, expression unblinking as Skylar made her way back to her room.

Pulling open the drawer, Skylar took the box that she’d taped to the underside of the drawer, rummaging around through the pills and the vials and the small baggie of dried mushrooms until her fingers brushed against the small rolled cigarette. She quickly replaced everything, tucking it away before returning to Leah. “This is called… Lift. It’s supposed to help people understand. Understand what’s going on with each other.” She said as she sat next to the other woman, wincing slightly at the way the sores on her back rubbed against the material of her shirt. “If you really want to know, I can show you. But only if you want to.” She said. 

Leah couldn’t help but glance around the house as she walked in, trying to find any other signs of distress that might pop out at her; any clues that might help to make this easier for Skye. She nodded at Skylar’s words, sitting on the couch she was offered, but not at all relaxing. She looked over and stared at the dog, pressing her lips together to offer it a tight smile. “You protecting her?”, she asked it, holding her hand out for it to sniff as she spoke. She hoped it was at the very least offering Skye some semblance of companionship, especially when she seemed so keen lately to push the people who cared about her away.

Skye’s entrance back to the room broke Leah out of her thoughts, and she turned to look at her, searching. Lift. She’d heard of it, briefly, or at least rumors of it, but never enough to know that it was really a real thing. “Where did you get this?”, she asked, itching to take it out of Skylar’s hand to study it further. “Is that what you’ve been… what that creep gave you that day?” she asked, her eyes finding her friend’s. “What does it… Is it addicting, Skylar? I won’t be able to help you if…-i-if I become addicted, too.” Maybe the implication that Skylar had an addiction would be too forward, but Leah was not going to mince words about the truth of the situation Skylar was putting herself in. It was too dangerous to lie to her about it.

At Leah’s words, Skylar’s eyes narrowed slightly. She didn’t want the questions, didn’t want to think about what her words meant. She didn’t have a problem, she didn’t need these things. They just made things easier. They made life more bearable, numbed her to the things that only ever hurt her. “It’s not.” She said, thinking back to what Gabe had told her. “People don’t buy this often because it’s not… a high, not really. It’s just so people can get what’s going on with someone else. A shared experience. That’s it. If you don’t want to, you don’t need to. But,” Skylar paused, her voice calm and even as her bones ached with pain, “if you decide you don’t want to do this, you’re leaving my house. And you’re not going to talk to me again.” She said. Skylar stared at the other woman with a level, unwavering gaze. “Do you want to understand or not?”

Leah’s eyes didn’t stray much from the cigarette as Skylar explained, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. She really needed to weigh her options here. She didn’t come here to do drugs with Skylar. In fact, that was the opposite point of her trip. The goal was to get Skylar to stop what she was doing. But the younger woman was so insistent that nobody could understand. If she believed that Leah understood, would that make her more inclined to accept her advice? She claimed it wasn’t addicting, surely she’d tell the truth about something as serious. She let out a heavy breath, her eyes traveling back to Skylar’s swiftly. “I’m not giving up on you, Skylar”, she said sternly, despite the tears filling her eyes. “I want to understand, because I want to help, because I care about you. And if this is the only way you feel that can be achieved, then let’s get to it.”

All Skylar needed to hear was Leah’s agreement. Once she had that, Skylar produced a small lighter from her pocket and lit the end of the rolled cigarette. Without hesitation, Skylar took a long inhale from the end, letting the smoke rush into her lungs. It washed over her-- it didn’t provide the relief that Bliss or blue mushrooms did, but that wasn’t why she wanted it. She just hoped the Leah would understand, that someone would finally understand. Holding the cigarette out to Leah, Skylar waited for the other woman to inhale as the world began to swim and twist and shudder around her. The room began to waver in her vision, the walls seeming to fall away one by one, until they two of them remained in a void, the contents of the living room the only thing that remained with them. Skylar let out a deep exhale and curling plumes of dark blue smoke flowed from her lips, splashing onto the carpet like water until it filled the void around them into a churning ocean of deep, endless blue. It was everything she hated, everything she feared, and it roiled around them both. 

Leah was taken aback by how quickly Skylar moved forward with what they were doing. She would have protested that she didn’t need the lighter, that Leah could have taken care of that for them, but maybe telling her how amazing being anything but human could be wasn’t appropriate, given their current situation. Was she enabling Skylar by doing this? Would it help at all? She didn’t have much time to think about it before she took the cigarette from Skye, taking a deep inhale herself. And then, everything was warping and morphing and melting all at once, the floor beneath them disappearing before her eyes. As a blanket of blue surrounded them, her focus fell on Skylar, a mix of awe and cautiousness filling her up. “How does this work?”, she wondered, her voice sounding distant and far away. 

Even though Skylar had her hearing aids in, Leah’s voice sounded crystal clear in her mind, closer and sharper than anyone else had ever felt. There was no mechanical distortion from the receptors, no slight hum to her words. Was this how Leah always sounded, to hearing people? Shrugging, Skylar reached her hand out to touch the water that pulled around them. “I don’t know. It’s… magic.” As her fingertips pressed against the surface, a shudder went through the moving waves, a sharp ripple. It spread across the sea, calming it. But as the ripple spread from her fingers, Skylar watched as the ocean turned into a glassy sheet of black. Every ounce of pain, of sadness, of loneliness she’d ever felt in her entire life, it filled this endless ocean. It was the color of tar, of pitch, dark and all consuming. Sadness, grief, loss, pain, every awful thing she’d ever felt was in this sea and she could feel it pulling her down, down down. And she wanted to give in. She wanted to let it consume her. But, her eyes shifted up as a glimmer of light glinted at the edge of the glassy sea. A sunset, weak and dying but peeking over the horizon line. Rays of light crystalized around them, bright sunbeams of… happiness. Fleeting moments, memories. 

The appearance of so much water made a panic rise in Leah, especially when it appeared in such an unruly, untamed way. But as the water danced around them, so too did a certain sense of calmness, too. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t hurt her. It was a release to accept that- was anything real? Perfectionism and pride seeped from her, a pool of lava somehow seamlessly mixing with the ocean’s waves. But then Skylar was touching it, changing it, and suddenly everything was so much more. Despite their weightlessness, everything felt heavy, like she was falling through thick sludges of pain that were all too intense to identify. Her parents, discovering she was something other- different. A monster. Had she ever really been enough if she was so easy to throw away? But they weren’t her parents, right? That had never happened. Still everything she felt was all encompassing, there was no achievable exit. She was drowning in it. Even the light in the distance felt too small to fix what was here now. She looked at Skylar, at a loss. How did they escape this? 

As they sat their, floating above the expanse of darkness, Skylar looked up to the sky. What had once been a serene cloudless landscape shifted and stormed until dark clouds hung around them. The constant storms that ran through her life-- flashes of lighting struck around them, striking against the black surface of the water. But, the water remained unmoved by the brilliant flashes of crackling ozone that crashed around them. Spasms, sharp stabs of pain, the lightning reminded her of every month she’d spent in agony-- she could see the moments, when she’d been consumed by pain, too tired to move, body aching too much for her to do anything other than curl up in her bed. That was the life her parents had chosen for her. And now, thunder broke with a reverberating roar. Water, rain drops began to drip down on them, pitter-pattering against their skin. Each droplet that hit her skin, Skylar could feel the memories pouring over her. The bones of a boy’s wrist breaking under her teeth. Her father emerging from the water with a bloodied chest, blown apart by shotgun fire. Her mother telling her to never return. Remmy, lying on the floor, ripped in half and sobbing. The rain clouds above them poured and poured. 

Everything hurt. Everything. Leah could feel all the bones she’d ever broken, snapping and cracking under circumstances that any human would be able to uphold. And there was Skylar’s pain too, shooting and spurting through her, determined and yet slow and miserable. As tiny droplets began to fall on them, Leah looked up, the sensation being completely foreign to her. Was this what rain felt like, then? She gazed at the skin of her arm, utterly fascinated by the water droplets dripping clean off, like her skin were made of rubber instead of ash. Memories surrounded her conscious, both good and bad- training with her grandparents, meeting Beatrice for the first time, surpassing her older brother in control of her fire, striving and trying and working and still failing to meet the expectations placed upon her by her parents, shame, shame, shame, a phone call from Nell that still rang in her ear everytime her cellphone rang, even months later, when everything was okay again. But her memories were mixed and muddled with Skylar’s. Like oil and vinegar, never quite combining, but slinking by each other time and time again. But she felt them like they were her own- the heartbreak and the hurt encompassing her before she had the chance to process what was happening. Her hand, distant and far away, reached down to squeeze Skylar’s as she took it all in. Somehow, she felt the squeeze in her free hand as well.

Memories that weren’t her own filtered in on the warm breeze the drifted through the scene, the wind curling through Skylar’s hair as she let it wash over her. The warmth of fire, something that should have scared her, felt like home. A deep friendship with a woman she’d seen in passing in town-- Beatrice? And pain, pain and shock and sadness over what had befallen her. But, there was still warmth to the memories that filtered by, a glow about them. Meanwhile, the rain continued to fall. They continued to fall and the dark water around them continued to rise. Skylar looked down at the glassy reflection and saw her reflection waver and split. Ricky, staring at her with disgust and pain on his face, before turning his back on her, washing his hands clean. Dave, pityingly staring back at her, stunned by her incompetence before fading with a ripple. Lucky, chasing after her with hope and dismay on his face, gone with the move of the current. And then her father, his blood broken form staring at her. He looked like her, so much like her. This isn’t the life I wanted for you. His words echoed in her ears. This wasn’t the life she wanted for herself either. As she stared at the reflection in the ocean of black, the water continued to rise.

Water sputtered and rose around them, violent and threatening to consume them with each added inch. Leah feared it would overtake them any second, and there’d be nowhere left to turn. She needed a way out. A way out from the pain and the shame. A way away from the dread that filled her with each passing memory that didn’t quite belong to her. Every feeling felt like hers, though. Every disappointed gaze, all the heaviness of abandonment, the questions of if she was enough, as she was. The self-hatred, the longing for a life that no longer existed. Skylar’s feelings swam through Leah, hitting every violent twist and turn until nothing felt enjoyable at all. The bonedoggles, ripping at her shoulder, and then lying on the table at the library, her own face looking down at her in concern. Then nothing. No memory of the trauma she just endured. The water hadn’t covered them yet, so why did she feel like she was drowning?

The dark water continued to flow around Skylar simultaneously pushing higher and dragging her down into the depths. It churned around her, ever present, ever growing. She continued to stare at the ripples in the water, the people who had touched her life. Nic, promising her a home and then leaving the house they’d shared for who knows how long. Winston, drunken and smiling as they exalted over the ball of fire they’d conjured up, disappearing without a trace. Remmy, holding her, helping her, leaving because this town asked for too much of everyone. And they needed more. People she loved, people she’d lost, they joined the stream of faces that flowed through the water. Her mother, reproving and hateful. Her father, spineless and cowering. Her brother and sister, so perfect, so good, everything that Skylar wished she could be. And the water flowed higher and higher, beyond her shoulders. Looking over at Leah, Skylar stared at her with dry, dull eyes. She had no more tears left to shed. This was her life, this was all she’d known since coming to this cursed place. “Do you understand?” She asked, as the water began to trickle over her chin, “Do you know?”

It was a strange sensation, to feel a deep disdain for the town that Leah loved so much. Like oil on her hands, she couldn’t escape the feeling no matter how hard she tried. All the awful things that had happened there that she’d witnessed there lay present in her mind. Bea’s death, the Chen family’s disappearance, all the lives she lost before she ever turned 18. But there was good, too, sprinkled throughout. So much good and so much to learn about. Her gaze fell to Skylar at her question. She’d never had a chance to experience the good, yet. All of her memories up until now, they were laced with pain and loss and grief and injury and abandonment. It was really no wonder why she couldn’t feel the wonderful of White Crest. Leah could barely feel it herself, now, with all the heaviness of Skye’s time here weighing on her chest. The water rose above their noses, but in her moment of clarity, Leah could finally breathe again. “Yes”, she answered through the water, tears escaping her eyes and contributing to its massive volume. “Yes, Skye. I can see, now.” She wanted so much to reach out- to wrap Skylar in love and take it all away, but she was still stuck, staring off at a bright horizon that seemed just out of reach. “I see you. I feel it, too.” She was breathing again, somehow. Was it over? “I’m here.”

The water was over Skylar’s mouth, black and all-consuming. Like tar, it clung to her and dragged her further down into the depths of her own despair. She could have lifted her head to talk to Leah, to say that it was okay, that having the other woman understand was enough. But, it wasn’t. And she didn’t want to talk anymore. Leah may be here, but it wasn’t enough. This town had taken too much from her and Skylar was tired of fighting the tides of change. She was too tired to say anything more. And so, she let the water rise over her eyes until the sea of darkness had swallowed her whole.

For a moment, Skylar remained submerged and surrounded by every ounce of pain that this town had drawn out of her. Sadness, longing, hatred, fear, self-loathing, confusion, and a deep, undeniable sense of loss. This town had broken her. She’d lost herself here. And Skylar didn’t know if she’d ever be able to find that girl again.

The haze of Lift broke, dark water dissipating into thick clouds of smoke that cleared and the two were once again sitting on the couch. Skylar could see glittering tears running down Leah’s cheeks and she looked away. This wasn’t-- she didn’t want pity. She’d thought that Leah would understand. That if Leah could feel what she felt, understand the weight that Skylar cared with her every day, she would understand. “You said that… you see. But seeing, it’s not the same as understanding. Do you understand now?” Skylar repeated.

It was over. Just as quickly as it started, the haze had worn off, the water had dissipated, and they were back in Skylar’s living room. Everything was real again. Leah wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand, composing herself. All that she had just felt was swimming, processing in her mind, and Skylar was already talking to her, asking her questions. It was over, but her voice still felt distant and far away. Did she understand now? She turned to Skylar, her eyebrows furrowed, and reached out to grab her hand. “I understand, Skylar. I understand e-everything you’ve been feeling. The pain, the shame, the abandonment and loss… I absolutely understand why you would feel the need to turn to the means you have to cope with it all.” She blinked, turning her head forward and squeezing her hand again. Everything that had happened to Skye even before she arrived in White Crest was muddled and painful. But the drugs- what Skylar was doing to destroy herself? That was only going to make it worse.  “I understand why you feel like you need to, but you must understand, too. Why I know this isn’t the best choice for you. Why I know there are other ways to handle… all this hurt you’re holding inside, Skye. We can find another way… together.”

At Leah’s touch, a hand that was impossibly warmer than her own, Skylar wished that she could believe what the other woman was saying. But she’d seen the writing on the wall all those months and months ago. That day she’d gone to the carnival with Morgan, she’d seen her fate etched in the glass of the Hall of Mirrors. She’d seen herself, curled up and wasting away, her skin peeling and pelt rotting. Her body destroyed, spirit long, long gone. And she didn’t have it in her to fight fate any more. “There’s nothing that can be done. This is… it. This is all there is for me. All there ever was.” She said quietly. “This town takes and takes from everyone. And I’m running out of pieces of myself to give.” Swallowing, she looked at Leah through tired eyes. “You should go.”

Starring ahead, Leah shook her head back and forth.  Skylar was wrong.  This wasn’t it.  This was barely half of it.  For every tragedy this town had to spill, every heartbreak and loss and broken promise, it had that much more to offer.  Wonders you could never dream of if you’d never been there.  How unjust it was of White Crest to only offer the worst of itself to Skye upfront.  She shouldn’t go.  She should stay here and help-... Help with what, though?  The place was essentially spotless, not the disheveled mess she expected to show up to.  She stood up awkwardly, her gaze locked on Skylar’s.  More tears sprung to her eyes at the broken girl who stared back at her.  “I’ll be back”, she promised, swallowing.  “Please call me next time you feel like… we can talk instead, okay?” Skylar wouldn’t, she knew, but the offer was there, ready for the taking.  If this experience taught Leah anything, it was that she couldn’t go about getting Skylar better on her own.  It was time to bring in reinforcements.