#why did i waste half my life doing things the hard way? why couldn't it have been easy?

[dredshirtroberts]

god. no one prepares you for the irritation and anger that comes when assistive devices and medical equipment actually fix your problems.

[cheegu3]

Can you please do yandere twice reaction to their s/o saying they want to have their first time with them

warnings; (18+) yandere themes, sex, obsession, teasing, humiliation kink, possessiveness, masturbation, some kinks, insecurity, threesome, swearing, dub-con?

note; g.n reader

Twice - reaction to s/o saying they want to have their first time with them

Jihyo

Being a woman who does not waste time, she wouldn't hesitate to just pull you towards her and kiss you with more passion than you'd ever felt before. You would pull away, a look of shock on your face, and all she did was smile teasingly at the way your mouth was hanging open.

You had gone out with Jihyo on your day off. She had planned for you two to have a day you'd spend together, all alone. First she took you shopping, eager to show you all of the dresses in the fitting room and hearing your opinions.

Then she took you to the cinema, where she let you pick whatever movie you wanted. Slowly, you started to see her in a new light that you hadn't previously done.

Whenever you tried to pay for anything during the day, she'd hurry to press her card against the reader and then flash you a big grin, saying, '' My treat, hun. ''

It made your heart beat faster. Had she always been so nice?

When you arrived home, she started unpacking the food on the table and made it very nice with romantic candles and flowers. You watched her in silence, your gaze softening as you took her in.

She looked so beautiful today, even more than usual. She had a radiant glow on her cheeks, and suddenly you felt very guilty that you had rejected going out with her so many times.

At that moment, you couldn't see her toxic side anymore. You saw someone who was warm, giving, full of life and love. Your eyes traveled down after inspecting her face and you caught yourself blushing when you noticed that her skirt had ridden up a bit.

'' Are you okay? Why aren't you eating? ''

You snapped back to reality and tried your best to look normal. You straightened yourself and smiled shyly, coming up with a lie.

'' I was waiting for you. ''

At this, she hurried to sit down and started eating so you would do the same. But, you couldn't swallow a single bite of food, your mouth felt dry and your thoughts kept being invaded by the wrong things.

'' Are you sure you're okay? ''

She came over to sit on the edge of the table and lightly brushed the hair out of your face. It was the worst thing she could've done, you knew if you spoke you'd come off as a nervous, stuttering mess.

You nodded, swallowing harshly. Slowly you were able to muster up the courage to look at her. A certain boldness came over you.

'' I...want you. ''

Silence fell over the room. Her eyes widened and her smile faded. You thought you had offended her for a moment and were just about to profusely apologize when she pressed her lips against yours so hard that you forgot what you were going to say.

Nayeon

Although she had happily waited patiently for a long time, she froze once you finally said what she'd been wanting you to.

She nodded, '' Soon, baby. ''

You'd be just as confused as she was deep down. It was strange. Wasn't this what she wanted?

Time passed and it was your turn to give her space until she was ready.

After a week or so, during which your relationship was quite awkward, she finally figured out why. You were watching a movie with her when a steamy scene came up. Shyly, you two only half-watched it but afterward, you said under your breath while laughing, '' That was hot.''

She almost let out a gasp when she realized - she was nervous! Nayeon turned away from you and bit her lip. She wanted it to be perfect and was terrified of leaving you disappointed.

She almost felt like a loser when she went to all her friends for advice and browsed the internet to find answers and solutions.

'' y/n? ''

You rose from the chair you'd been sitting on and followed the soft voice calling for you. Rounding the corner, you were met with the sight of your girlfriend sitting by the vanity.

She was doing her makeup, and you both smiled when your eyes caught in the mirror. You went up to stand behind her, prompting her to take a deep breath and close her eyes before she looked at you.

'' I'm ready, '' she turned to look over her shoulder so you were face to face.

You frowned. '' What do you mean? ''

Her hand immediately moved to your waist, curling around it and then pulling you closer. She didn't say a word, she didn't need to, her eyes dark with lust wandering all over your figure told you everything.

Jeongyeon

'' I want you ''

You cringed at your sudden boldness and looked away, but when you felt ready to face her again, her reaction was something you hadn't expected.

'' To what? '' she blinked, utter confusion plastered on her face.

The words - to fuck you, echoed in your head but you weren't sure you could ever say that out loud.

You felt extremely embarrassed and snuck away to avoid having to explain it to her. A few minutes later, she popped into your shared bedroom.

You internally groaned when she came to you, sitting as close as possible on the double bed, and you could tell she was going to ask you what you meant.

But as always, she caught you off guard again when her lips curved into a smug smile.

'' Sorry, I knew your embarrassment would be adorable. ''

You hit her arm and gasped, '' You knew! ''

She shrugged and looked away, the smile not leaving her face as she was having the time of her life teasing you right now.

'' Oh! '' you squealed and fell back against the bed so you could roll over and hide your face in the pillows.

She laughed.

The bed moved as she shifted around to lay next to you. Stubbornly, you refused to look at her, so she did the thing she knew would get your attention.

A cold hand hovered over the small of your back; fingertips grazing it as if it was barely there, but it was still enough to make you curl your body, chills running down your spine.

It took everything in you not to turn over and throw yourself at her, all that showed signs of this was a shaky exhale that made her snicker.

'' Are you done yet? Having your little temper tantrum? '' her mocking somehow made jolts shoot inside your body again.

She sighed when you didn't respond and she leaned in closer, her warm whisper tickling your ear, '' I'm waiting for you. ''

Momo

You were making out like you regularly did, when you pulled back and Momo could tell that something in your eyes was different that night.

You took her hand and led it down your body which almost made her tremble with excitement.

'' Are you sure? '' she mumbled several times, still drunk from your kisses.

You nodded, and as she got closer and closer to reaching in between your legs, her smirk grew wider. Right before doing so, she stopped and pulled away. You could only watch in astonishment when she looked to see if you were following her to the bedroom.

You looked dumbstruck, making her giggle. You felt your whole body beg of desperation so naturally you followed her, almost with some eagerness to your step.

Instead of getting on the bed, like you expected, Momo sat down in the chair in the corner of the room. You adjusted quickly and came over to her, but she pushed you away by the shoulder.

'' What- ''

'' Get on the bed, and take off your clothes, '' she demanded, her tone shifting to sternness.

You obeyed, still feeling a bit confused, and even more so when you were done and she wasn't moving from her chair.

'' Babe? '' you sounded small, and almost cursed yourself right then and there for playing into her hand.

This must've been what she wanted all along when she was so overly possessive and passionate in the beginning, to control you and then humiliate you once she had you.

Your face soured and you got up, eyes shooting daggers at her. Just before you had turned your back on her, she spoke up, amusement lilting her voice.

'' I want you to do what you usually do when you think I'm asleep. ''

Her words were cryptic but they sent a wave of shock over you, because you knew exactly what she meant. You turned back to her and saw that she was watching you.

You crawled back on the bed again and did what she asked while she looked very pleased. She had meant all those nights you had touched yourself while you thought she was sleeping - now she wanted you to show her what she had missed out on.

Sana

You whispered it into her ear while you were out drinking with other people. Expecting her to blush and lose her composure, you did it while everyone was standing up and giving a toast.

The corners of her mouth tugged upwards in a small smile, and she only turned her head towards you while her eyes remained on the birthday girl; as if to say, I don't have time for this now.

If it weren't for the smile on her lips, you would've felt offended, but you knew she was toying with you a little.

'' Tonight, my love, '' Sana tenderly said, leaving you gushing at her for the rest of the evening.

She proudly claimed you by holding your hand in front of everyone and didn't care that the two of you got looks when you went away in a taxi together.

Back at the apartment, she made you wait in the lobby while she ran upstairs. It took so long that you began to doze off for a bit, and that's how she found you in the lobby too.

A look of adornment struck across her features. She brought a hand up and shook you gently until you woke up.

'' Hey. You fell asleep. ''

You yawned and took a few seconds to rub the sleepiness off and when it did, everything hit you again. With some hesitance, you looked at Sana to see if she also remembered or if she'd been drunk.

She took your hand and then led you up to her apartment where candles and flowers awaited you, paired with the delicious scent of freshly cooked dinner.

You gasped when you saw it was your favorite food and smiled in secret, looking at her full of love when she showed you around.

Once the tour was over and you had gotten your bouquet of flowers, you sat down together at the table. The tension rose the longer the dinner dragged on, you both knowing what was waiting afterward.

Mina

She flinched when your hand snaked around her waist while you were making out with her. When you pulled away to apologize and ask what was wrong, you were met with a cold, emotionless face.

Then she slipped away from your arms completely and stayed in her room for the rest of the day. That night in bed was awkward, you laid next to her and didn't get any reaction or response, therefore, you cried yourself to sleep.

The guilt was killing you the next day and you couldn't let it go on any further. Gently you tapped her shoulder as she was making food in the kitchen.

She had dark circles under her eyes; her usual flawless appearance looked a bit disheveled. Your stomach flipped. Did she not sleep because of you?

'' Are you okay? You ignored me yesterday...did I- did I do something wrong? ''

A few seconds of silence passed, making you feel like dying. The long pause made you dread her answer even more, feeling like the obvious reply would be ' yes '.

But she surprised you by shaking her head, a half-smile appearing on her lips for a moment. Then you saw something else on her face, something she tried to hide by looking away.

'' I was...nervous, '' she admitted with a sigh.

Nervous? You had never seen your girlfriend be nervous or lose control like that. She was always quite hard on herself and had impossible standards.

You gave her a knowing look and instantly felt yourself relax. That must've been why she reacted the way she did, she felt embarrassed that you saw her like that.

A small part wanted to take the opportunity to tease her, she looked so adorable with her eyes flickering on everything but you; her usual confident gaze wavering.

Instead, you took her hand into yours and made her look at you.

'' It's okay, '' you softly whispered.

She still looked doubtful, but when you brought your hand up to her cheek, she melted visibly, unable to control herself again which made both of you laugh.

'' Come on, '' she ran ahead again just like she had yesterday, only this time she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Dahyun

The thought had come into your mind before and even more so recently. It was like something had shifted in the air. You went from having no interest in your girlfriend to finding that she had a glow around her - suddenly she was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

When her kisses started trailing down your neck one night, the words left your lips before you could stop them. '' Please. ''

Her movements froze for a second, a breathy scoff slipping past her lips before she continued. You tried to fight against the tingles you felt inside, and even more so when you turned your head and saw that she was watching you intently, loving every reaction.

You pulled away, already feeling your body stiffening in awkwardness. Dahyun, however, knew exactly why you had pulled away. With a playful smile, she turned you back to her, kissed you passionately, and then surprised you by lifting you up on the kitchen counter.

You almost moaned and then bit your lip to stifle it quickly. The smile hadn't left her face, and it was turning more smug by the minute.

She let a hand rest on your thigh. '' Say that again. ''

You swore internally. She was making you choose between your dignity, to beg for her again, or to keep quiet, full of frustration. Your eyes flitted nervously from her to the ground as you tried to make up your mind.

You were fighting with yourself silently, while she watched on with the level of amusement a child would have if they went to the movies. Her lips were quirked upwards, never going down even for just a second, and her eyes were scared to leave you, sure she'd miss something if they did.

'' Well, '' she said drawly, '' have you made up your mind? ''

You held back on answering, but you both knew what you'd say in the end.

Chaeyoung

You asked her outright one day in the dark while the two of you were laying in bed, ready to go to sleep.

Her silence after your question about why you hadn't had sex yet, left her speechless and she took some time to gather her thoughts and respond to you. You thought that she was ignoring you or that she had fallen asleep, so defeatedly you rolled over on your side.

But then her soft voice spoke. She sounded very unsure of what to say despite taking so long to answer; like she could never have enough time to find the right words, and you found it adorable.

She was usually so cool and confident, seeing her like this was different.

'' I- well, I wasn't sure if you wanted that...I wanted to wait, to make sure that you did, '' she said, her voice having a faint hint of shakiness to it.

'' I thought that you weren't attracted to me, '' you earnestly confessed.

That broke her heart. The sheets ruffled as she turned towards you so she could see you. She hesitated and then gently started stroking your hair.

'' I'm sorry. I had no idea you felt that way, '' then she added like a scolding mom, '' you should've told me. ''

'' I'm sorry, '' you mumbled in the dark.

'' I would hate to make you feel like that, ever. ''

You didn't know what to say, several times your mouth opened but nothing came out. It was like you just couldn't say what you wanted to, so instead you spoke in another way.

Chaeyoung almost flinched when she felt your cold hand on her arm. She was thankful for the dark hiding her sudden shyness when you climbed on top of her and leaned down to kiss her.

'' I love you, '' you said in between kisses.

She kissed you back with a hint of desperation.

'' I love you more, '' she laughed and in one swift movement she flipped you over so you were under her instead.

The air was knocked out of you, and now it was your turn to be shy. You knew what kind of night was ahead of you after all.

Tzuyu

You had come close several times, in more ways than one. But it seemed that whenever the two of you were deeply lost in each other, and your hands wandered all over, something would interrupt it - there was never a perfect time to do it.

Months had passed so it almost became a bit of a joke in your relationship. Any time you started making out, your eyes always watched the door. Either your mom barged in, or your friends, Tzuyu's friends, or people from her company and you jumped away from her while she tried to respond to whoever came in. You were always too flustered to respond, Tzuyu liked teasing you about your rosy cheeks afterward.

One night, she took you completely by surprise. Just as she was stumbling towards the door while her lips occasionally, hungrily attached to yours again; the door opened and instead of stopping like usual, she pulled her friend in and then locked the door.

Her friend Nayeon, just stared at you both, eyes widening the more her gaze traveled over the state of you and she put two and two together.

'' Oh, I'm so sorry! '' she squeaked, '' I was just gonna pick something up. ''

You squirmed when your girlfriend leaned in and whispered in your ear, '' Do you want her to join us? ''

You stared at her, shock written all over your face. Your mouth fell open and she took the opportunity to shove her tongue in, right in front of Nayeon.

When she pulled away, you could feel how much you were blushing just by the heat on your cheeks. Automatically, your eyes fell on Nayeon again.

Unexpectedly, something arose in you when you did so. You had expected to feel extremely humiliated and to turn down Tzuyu's offer, but before you could stop yourself you mumbled dazily in her direction, '' Yes, please. ''

[strom-in-the-sky]

Bsd husband who...

NSFW mention, fluff, bsd men being your husband. Pure fluff and smut. Maybe a little projecting my ideal of love.

These men are so whipped for you that it isn't even funny. It shows in their eyes, actions, even the way they just act so differently around you. They don't regret marrying you. In fact, they would do it all again. They hardly understand half the time why you chose to still stick to their side with all their shit and troubles. But they couldn't think of anyone better to spend the rest of their life's with. The one that stuck through their lows and highs. The one person that understand them or just clicks so well with. The ring on their finger they will never take off and the love they get from you thet seem to crave so much after a long day. The arms they want to be in and cuddle in an embrace almost as a baby still in it mother womb. It only fair that they show in some ways they can, words are never enough, gifts no. They need to show it. Pressing you into the bed as they rail or make love to you slowly and ever so lovingly, watching every single expression never getting enough, tracing the body they know so well yet seems to froget when they have you like this. Falling apart on them as he did with their walls no matter how hard they tried to keep it up with you. It's only fair that they made you fall apart as well. Holding onto your hands with their bigger rough ones or touching your body like a straved person. Mumbling praise, kissing your face,leaving love bites for the world to see. That this person was the one they loved so much it hurts at times. This person they would risk their lifes and every single penny. You can give them a whole glass- no bucket of you, and they never get enough. Never. Not that they were ungrateful, no. They love you so much that they would take every single drop and don't even waste it. Ever single drop. So much happened in their lives, and they this one joy. They don't want it to slip from their hands now. Please not now. Let this be the one thing they can hold onto as long as it can. They would break into two or distory themselves in process if they lost you. You dug to deep into their souls, and they can't leg you go. They love you now and forever. Fuck even in the next life they make sure they find you just to do it all again. don't forget that now you're your lovely husband that just can't seem to get enough. You're their world, comfort, and home in so many ways. Let them have this just this once. They just want you to love them and never let go. Hold them tightly they don't care. Just love them - be you anything, they take it as a man thirsty for water. They love you more than you love them. So please. Keep calling them husband they never get sick of it. Their drugs more than drugs. So please.

"One more kiss? Please...I can't get enough..."

~♡

Chuya, dazai, Akutagawa, sigma, oda, Fukuzawa, Kunikida, ranpo, poe, Author, Paul, adam, Fukuchi, ango, Nikolai...ect ♡

[barleyo]

Your requests are open... you've put the words "Corrupt Cop Daichi" in my brain... Imagine you're just like. Driving on the highway and you're not even speeding but somehow he knows what you look like so he pulls you over because you're a cutie patootie... Dubious consent follows... Daichi in a cop uniform... Reader bent over the backseat of the cop car, door open, fully visible from the road but not caring because CoP dAiChI? AHHhhhhHH? (Idek if this counts as corrupt but cop daichi is cop daichi you know)

It's 9:30 in the morning but it's never too early for Cop Daichi argargargargargarg

Mr. Officer.

Cop! Daichi Sawamura X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: CORRUPT COP DAICHI IS MY EVERYTHING!!! Ugh dirty nasty cops who abuse their power :3 I wanted to make him mean, but my sweet, sweet Daichi could never be mean to a pretty girl... he still gets crazy with power though!

Tags: power play/imbalance, alcohol mention, small age gap (18—23), dub-con, p in v, quickies, coercion n all that good stuff :3

Wordcount: 900-ish

God, you were lucky that you were pretty, because you certainly weren't smart or slick. Daichi knew college kids were stupid, always doing risky stuff for the hell of it, but really? You were too drunk to walk in a straight line, let alone to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He couldn't help but feel the pang of interest he felt when he got a good look at you after pulling you over. With the way you were driving, he was certain you'd be a blind old lady, but no. Just a college cutie. Damn it, it was hard to be stern with those. 

"Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked, trite words second nature to him by now. 

If you googled the definition of the word "wasted," your face in that moment would be the illustration accompanying it. 

Your face was red and warmed, no doubt tinted by all the cheap liquor you threw back at whatever frat party you came from. Eyes lazy and half-lidded. Hiccups and inconsolable giggles.

"No," you said, drunken euphoria flooding through your system. "I'm sorry, Mr. Problem, is there an officer?"

"Jesus Christ."

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, not entirely sure what to do with you. On one hand, it was his job to take you into the station, take your name down, and rat on you to your parents. Maybe scare you straight with a few nights in a holding cell.

On the other, well, you were a sweet little thing. Drunk and stupid as you may have been, he didn't have the heart to haul you away like a criminal. Girls with pretty faces aren't meant for life behind bars, even if only for a couple of hours. 

"C'mon, let's get you out of here. Step out of the vehicle, please," he ordered weakly, still conflicted. 

You complied, of course, stepping out and stumbling, falling forward. He caught you, letting you hold onto his forearms during your spell of dizziness. 

You stayed in his arms, drunkenly fiddling with the walkie talkie strapped to his shirt while you prattled off whined and pleas.

"Am I in trouble?" you asked while running a hand over his arms. "You're not gonna be a 'cop' about this whole thing, are you?"

He held back a snort, peering down at you. He made no effort to get you off of him, in fact, he rather liked the way you were feeling up on him. His nightly patrol was getting a little boring, and he usually had to deal with violent, dumb-as-hell college guys who drove drunk.

Cute, touchy, drunk, dumb-as-hell college girls were the easier route by far.

"Kinda my job, hon," he replied, struggling to keep a stern tone. "How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"Nothing, I swear," you slurred, shaking your head at him in defense. "Totally sober! Promise!"

Bullshit.

"Yeah, right. 'Nothing' meaning every drink handed to you, I assume?"

"Okay, maybe, but I can drive fine!"

"You almost served into a tree earlier," he deadpanned, placing his hands on your shoulders with an unamused look. 

You giggled right in his face, pressing your warm face against his chest. 

"You're funny."

What the hell was he supposed to do with you now?!

Once he clicked his bodycam off, he knew he was going to give in. He was only a man, and men are weak. Something about you, how easily the situation was playing out— it was too tempting. It almost felt like a set-up, or maybe that was just his guilt and paranoia acting up.

He wasn't alone in this, his buddies in the force pulled sly shit like this all the time. No harm, no foul, right? You get off scot-free and he gets a little something in return. 

Everyone's happy. 

You definitely sounded happy, squeals and moans falling from your mouth while he bent you over the hood of your car. 

He knew he was wrong for this. He didn't care. It was dark out, chances of someone catching him low. Besides, it was hard to focus on anything other than the wet, warm hole clenching over him. 

"Lower your volume," he warned, pace unsteady and sharp. The hand he had wrapped over one of your thighs tightened its grip, warning you. "You want someone to see you like this?"

He could see the back of your head shake 'no,' and could hear your moans start to muffle themselves with a bite of your bottom lip. 

"Awh, didn't mean t'shut you up," his voice was softer, hand running over your hip apologetically. "Lemme hear you, jus' don't get too loud."

He was already sloppy with how he was fucking you, but when he heard the pathetic cry that you let out, his body was inconsolable. He wasn't in control anymore, he just let himself be led by pure lust. 

He pressed a shaking hand on your lower back, deepening your arch for him. He bullied your cervix's tip, acutely aware of how sensitive it was. This was far deeper than any guy had ever reached for you, way deeper. 

An intense flush of pleasure ran over you while you came. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the risk of it all, or maybe just the hot officer doing it to you, but your orgasm felt much stronger than you had felt any other time. The feeling of his cum landing on your ass and the sound of his deep groans were just the cherry on top of it all. 

[thebottomfromhell]

ONE-SHOT

Female Human (later Demon) Reader becoming Muzans lover

Ok, I will be evil with this one. This is the typical "reader/oc is yeeted i to the Mary Sue role because she is oh so special" but done my own way, which is basically destroy the promt into something more in character, so it might not be everyone's taste. Also being Muzan's part from this post.

Warnings: Manga Spoilers, Sexism, Power imbalance, Non-consented body modification (being turned into a demon), Narcissistic character, and Slight yandere behavior.

Muzan would never admit humanity has impressed him more than a fingers count of times. There have been several humans he found himself amazed with, but honestly? That only makes them less special. But the fact is still the same, when a human is capable os such a thing, it means they are worth of being more. Of being... almost perfect. Because no matter how many times he finds himself linked to human, humanity is a desease. The desease of getting tired, old, injured, weak and dead.

Not that he would ever go as far as to get rid of humans completely, what would he eat if he did? And raising them as cattle seems rather cruel, not only that but he must admit he enjoys human's products. The technology, the arts, the arquitecture... it would be a waste to get rid of it.

You were, are, impressive, not at the same level of Tamayo, but still an impressive woman he met as he was passing by as human. There was something about you, something he wanted. He couldn't ignore it, even if he did try, even if he had a hard time recognizing it. Specially because he didn't know why. With Akaza, it was his strengh. With Nakime, it was his wickedness. With Enmu, it was his... oddity. With Gyutaro, it was his hatred. With Gyokko, it was his art. With Rui, it was their resemblance. With Hantengu, it was his will and madness. With Kokushibou, it was his power and pride. For fuck's sake, he transformed Douma because of his shitty eyes! But in every case he knew exactly what he was doing and why at giving them their position in the Kizuki system.

Meanwhile, you can't compare to any of them. You aren't half as strong as most humans who called up his attention, you are sane, you are normal, average. Why are you here? In his head? Why does he let you stay near him, even when he should have killed you after switching to a new life. You met Muzan as a child, an odd one, very mature and smart for his age, but also had something you couldn't describe, but it set you off. Specially as he kept staring at you while you followed your routine.

You always made sure to show him bare minimum courtesy, he was the child of someone rich, after all. You didn't really care, until a young man came to you, he was very attractive and you did consider for a few seconds asking to meet or something. You are already an adult but haven't married yet, so people talk a lot about you, mostly condensending or nosy things. Maybe getting someone would stop the talking, as, depending on particular people, can be from annoying to hurtful. But after considering a few seconds, you decided it's not worth it, since you didn't know this man. You never wanted to come off as "desperate", that would make the rumours about you worse.

The thing is that. You didn't know this man, "Hello, Y/N." and yet he knows your name. He has a sweet voice, but something upseting from... you don't even know from what. "Excuse me, do we know each other?" You ask nerviously, and every second you look at him, he somehow manages to be more scary. There is something in the air, something... almost cursed. "We do, actually. But that doesn't matter. Tell me, dear, what do you think of your life?" He asks, but honestly? It feels that this is more to make up a conversation than to actually know about you.

You answer, lying in some details, saying some things mostly because it's correct to say it. In some aspects, you don't feel like other women, like you are not like the other ladies, hence you are also treated differently, maybe that is the reason you never got a fiance, even is it's considered unsightful that a young lady doesn't get any attention at all. Most men think you are "hard to manage", so they don't. You don't really like it but at this point you learned not to care. You also tell some truths, but not really giving so much detail. You just want to leave. There is something about this guy giving you creeps.

"I see." He chuckles a bit, and while it sounded nice, melodious even, it only made you tense up. "Honestly, I don't know what I was expecting asking such a silly question. But I guess you do have something interesting, you want to scape your life." That is not odd to find, most of his demons felt that same way. Akaza wanted to scape his family's death and lack of purpose, Kokushibou wanted to scape his weakness and sense of inferiority to his brother, Douma wanted to scape the numbness of the cult, Hantengu wanted to scape his criminal record and death sentence, Nakime wanted to scape her life as a poor wife of a gambler, even Rui wanted to scape his sickness.

You are no different. You are not special. And yet, annoyingly, he can't shake off his interest towards you. Maybe, because you are not special, he should enlist you with the others. In the best case scenario, you will join the Kizuki system. At the worst? He will get bored of you when you prove to be useless. Because, while attracked, he doesn't have the patience to stay by when there is so much to do. He can only have the best and the most useful assets by his side. Prove yourself then.

You didn't even manage to blink before you feel a potent sting of pain in your skull, the smell of blood that runs through your face makes you panic, but you can't move. The pain becomes numb as a liquid, an odd liquid, is... injected to your brain. It burns, but every pain is subdued. Then you feel cold air against your flesh as he removes his hand. "Join me, my dear. Prove that you deserve to be at my side." Everything else goes in a flash, as you become more overwhealmed and your body stretches, your skin becomes ick, your blood preassure rises. Everything becomes pain for a moment... and then nothing.

No pain, no cold, no nothing. Just hunger, hunger for more blood. For him. But humans will have to do, because you are just so hungry you can't think straight. Did you ever? Because now. It's just your hunger and him what matter. "You are doing well, Y/N. Prove yourself worth it, and I will have an special gift for you." How could you reject that?

[constantvariations]

actually it would be very easy to see why adam liked blake: she gave him affection. that's it. i think he would be confused over platonic/romantic feelings but that someone loved him despite his scar and the things he did would be enough for him and he would be a bit scared to lose her

but he was so cool with blake running away v1 that it's difficult to imagine any romantic feelings as "canon". plus i think adam would see relationships as something below him and that would only distract him

I said before in a post about the comics that Adam came off as super ace to me because the way he reacted to Blake’s affections was the same way I did on the rare occasion people flirted with me. Like "oh, affection; neat! Why am I uncomfy" lol. I even dated some of those people too because I was young and dumb and following the "normal" path, so Adam doing the same is a good possibility (funny enough, my longest relationship was also a year and a half. Life imitates art ig?)

And yeah, Adam letting Blake go is the biggest evidence that he wasn't originally written with abuse in mind, and the flashback in V3C7 shows him less affected by Blake's leaving than Banesaw. This is only a few episodes before he starts spouting incel nonsense, so I'm really surprised at how many people swallowed this development wholesale considering the stark contrast. There's no bridge between "Forget her, I'm returning to Mistral" and "All I want is you, Blake🎩" (pretend it's a fedora kthx)

Adam is strictly business, which is why the romantic reveal falls flat out of left field. That's why it's hard for anyone to picture how Tauradonna actually went down. Even the writers of the comics couldn't think of anything outside of WF missions, which is such a waste

I wish canon had given us something from Adam's pov during/after Blake's departure to get an idea of how that affected him and what feelings he shoved aside to focus on the mission. Or just anything that treated Adam as an actual person/character rather than a lazy hatesink

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.103 Every day I'm hustlin'

For the next week, I hustled harder than ever. I went to every spa I knew of and taught 2-3 classes a day. I even went back to our gym in Willow Creek to see about teaching, but they had a full-time instructor. We were in no way hurting financially, but I hadn't worked since we got engaged. And honestly? My work activities slowed significantly when I moved in with Sophia. I wanted to spend time with her and be home when she arrived, but she got off work so early it just threw off my whole day. The money tree was in progress and my SimTube video was still doing great, so I didn't have to work so hard. But I felt compelled to, especially after our last conversation about the money tree and my family history. I had to ensure my family would be set up for success by doing any and everything I could while I had few obligations. I didn't enjoy getting home late and seeing my wife only a few hours a day, but I was willing to sacrifice for a short while.

One morning, I woke up and caught Sophia doing push-ups outside. When we chatted on Social Bunny back in the day, she always talked about how much she loved fitness, but I never saw evidence of that when I moved in. Her job sucked the life out of her, leaving her too physically and emotionally drained to do the things she loved. But she was free now and started prioritizing her health and wellness. Her delicious curves would start slowly disappearing, and I mourned my loss but took solace in knowing she'd be happier and healthier.

An idea fell on me, so I went outside to greet her.

"Good morning, my sweet."

I grabbed her hand and kissed it so over-the-top dramatic like they did in the old movies.

"You're awfully romantic this morning!"

That was a new one. I never saw myself as a romantic.

"I'm going to teach at the Desert Bloom Resort today. Would you like to come?"

"Really? You want me there?"

I chuckled.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know... Some sims get nervous about friends and loved ones seeing them in action."

"Oh. Well, that's definitely not me, seeing as I used my friends and family to get started."

"Okay then! Let me text Rashidah. She was gonna come by this afternoon, but I'll tell her to come later."

We ate, got dressed, and headed to the spa. The class was almost full, which made me happy, but I never had so many sims unwilling to try. Like, I knew everyone came with varying levels of fitness, and I never did complicated routines because of that. Alternate poses existed for that very reason, but half of my class just stood there. Why pay and not participate? It must be nice to have money to waste.

Sophia had taken a mat in the back, so I couldn't see her very well. But every time I caught a glimpse of her, she struggled. By the end of class, she looked miserable.

"Everything hurts," she said. "I pulled muscles I didn't even know I had!"

I didn't enjoy seeing her miserable, but her talking about muscles she didn't know she had made me chuckle a little. I knew just the thing to cheer her up.

"Come with me."

I led her upstairs to the massage rooms and found a masseuse who wasn't busy.

"Hi," I said.

"Oh, hey. You're the yoga guy, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Luca. This is my wife, Sophia. Would you mind if I borrowed your table? I'll pay if-"

"Have at it, bro. I get paid the hour. But if you don't mind, I'm gonna stay in the room. Can't let them see me slacking, ya know?"

"Sophia? Do you mind if she stays?"

"Not at all! This is so exciting and romantical!"

She changed into a towel and hopped on the table, and I attempted to melt away her pain.

I wondered why she thought it was romantic, though. Was it because of her history? Or was it mine? I had an unused skill, and my wife had a need. Was being a good husband romantic? Regardless, I was glad she enjoyed the massage. Too bad weren't alone, though. I could have massaged everything and made sure she had a very happy ending. But I behaved, and Sophia left feeling much better. Maybe I should get a table for the new house....

She wanted to check out the rest of the facility as she'd never been before, so I went downstairs to the gym. The punching bag made me remember me, Maia, and Dub's debate about the best exercise, and I told him I gained all my muscle from yoga, never lifting weights or punching a bag. I went a few rounds, and it was honestly kind of fun. I let out steam I didn't know I had and felt my muscles engaging and contracting so much I knew if I kept it up I'd be walking around looking like Llama Man. No disrespect to him, but the superhero look was not for me. The weights and punching bag would have to remain an occasional activity.

Rashidah came by later, just like Sophia said. I didn't want to be rude and ignore her, but I also didn't want to be all up in their business, so I stayed and chatted with them for a little while before excusing myself. It occurred to me I hadn't checked on the money tree in a while, so I hurried outside to see if it was okay.

Good thing I caught it when I did because it was full of weeds, and the leaves had withered. The soil was still pretty damp from my initial watering, so I guess the weeds were choking it out. I never aspired to be a gardener. Apart from Mama making me water and weed her soy plants, I didn't know a thing about it or care. But my family's future now required me to get on board. Luckily, I only had one tree to tend, not an entire garden. I could manage that for a lifetime of financial freedom.

[thelustybraavosimaid]

"Loneliness is a terrible thing, but so, too, is the hunger," Aemon felt for the lit candle before him, held onto it to warm his frail, wrinkled hands. "And with that hunger...when we do not heed it, we waste. Valyrians are meant to live long lives, as long as the dragons we claim—barring any maladies or ill-fated events, mind you—but without a soulmate and their blood, our lives are cut by half at the very least..."

Jon watched him as he adjusted the heavy chain resting at his thin neck, wondering. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand. Why is he telling me this? He was perplexed enough with his dreams...yet he couldn't help the curiosity that bloomed in his mind.

Jon may not be a Stark, but he felt Ghost's desire for fresh elk as if it were his own craving, the feeling so sharp on his tongue, the thought of hot crimson and chunked meat cascading down his throat mouthwatering. Was that common among werewolves with bonded loves, as it must be for vampyres? If so, mayhaps the Targaryens and the Starks were never so different, after all.

"...there was a girl I loved, did you know?" The skin around his milk-white eyes crinkled as he grinned. Jon was surprised by that; knowing how young he had been when he joined the maesters, he found it hard to believe he ever would have been romantically involved with another. Aemon sighed in remembrance. "I remember some about her, even still. The colour of her hair, the fairness of her skin, the soft way she spoke. I had already forged maester's links by then, devoted to my order and the lord I served. Yet I couldn't help the way I felt when I saw her.

I met her by chance; she served the lord as well, as a cupbearer. For a while we had gotten close, until I received the letter of my father calling his sons to the Red Keep. There was some...relief in leaving Oldtown. My father urging me to return home was a sound excuse, but there existed another reason why I had to, a deeper reason. A vampyre's bloodlust when it comes to our soulmates is almost consuming at times. It is painful when they're near and we cannot have them. In the past, such torment had driven some to madness.

My greatest fear was hurting her. I was torn back then; all I had devoted my life to was challenged with a single gaze of hers. Despite it, I had to choose my work instead. The both of us were miserable when I departed, but I knew it was for the best. I never would have forgiven myself if I had harmed her with my selfish impulses..."

Aemon's wizened voice drifted off as he fell into his memories. Jon sat in the silence as he dwelled in his own thoughts. Lately, his dreams had been strange, all-consuming, eerily real...but how much to reveal?

He decided on a far safer approach. "Do you remember her name?"

"I told you all the things about her that I can remember for a certainty," his smile carried a hint of morosity. "It has been nine-and-seventy years since last I glimpsed her. When you get to be as old as I, when the bond between soulmates is severed so early, you begin to forget certain details over time. My mind is still as deft as a blade, for the most part...yet I cannot remember her name..."

Silence fell over them once more, the quiet cut through with the occasional crackle of the hearth's firewood. Jon poured him a glass of wine, relieved when he accepted the goblet.

Aemon's white eyes peered over the rim of the goblet, finding him with ease. "You have had similar dreams, have you not? Do you know her name, Jon Snow? The one who plagues you so?"

...how could I forget?

Five years, eight months, and a fortnight had passed since he had last seen her, and yet the memory was fresh in his mind as if he had left Winterfell but a few hours ago. Jon closed his eyes, thinking of the last time he had seen her. She jumped into his arms when he gave her that skinny sword, stung his arm when she whapped him with the flat of her blade, drowned him in shy kisses in gratitude...

He thought of when she laughed and how the world felt warmer in response, chipping away at the jagged anger that lanced him.

He didn't want to leave, not her, not then...but after this, perhaps it was for the better. When he thought of her as she appeared in his dreams, of her striking grey eyes, her slender legs springy and longer, and the smell of earth and snow that clung to her skin, Jon's breath choked on a trembled gasp. His teeth sharpened, pressing down into the meat of his bottom lip. No matter how many years one had spent here, men did not forget their loyalties, their loves, their wants, and that rang true for him, as well. There was a darker edge to his love now though, if this was the painful bond the good maester had warned him about.

Hunger coiled in the pit of his stomach, worsening the more he thought of her.

Was that truly what she looked like now?

"You need not speak it aloud, dear boy," Aemon's hand drifted over Jon's, warm from the dying candle, "the love you bear her is plain enough, even without the seeing. And I hear the pain all the same."

He was grateful. He didn't want to say it in fear of being judged. Hells, he could even be wrong; dreams were but fragments of memory, often making mockery of men. If he wasn't, though...wouldn't the good maester understand, what with his Targaryen ancestry? Of course he remembered her name, though, and Jon was sure he'd never forget, no matter how much time would weather them both.

Arya Stark.

Jon stood. "Thank you for your time, Maester Aemon."

"Before you go, I suggest you take this," he rested his palm over a thick tome, the cover black and without a label. Along the spine, it said, Soulbonds and Bloodlust: On Vampyrism. "Septon Barth was a great chronicler of dragons, wyrms, wyverns...but little know how extensive his work had been on the lore of vampyres and our soulbonds. If you have the time, perhaps it can be of some use to you."

How could it be of any use when the last trueborn vampyre in Westeros was sitting before him, kept alive by the Wall's purported magic? Jon did not want to be disrespectful, though, so he took the tome from his hands. The book was massive, with a sizable weight to it. It was about vampyrism, of course, but maybe he could glean some understanding of his wolfish cravings all the same.

The old man smiled again. "And who knows, perhaps you may see your beloved far sooner than you believe."

Dare he hope? With a flex of his hand upon hearing the words, Jon thanked him, tucked the book under his left arm, and retreated back to the confines of his quarters.

[gifti3]

Okay i wrote this in record time for me. i just got the urge and boom here it is. I wanted to get this out fast so I didn't forget about it.

I called it a CEO AU but honestly its just an AU where MC works as Lucifer's assistant and is ready to wrap up this part of their life and move on to different work.

All the brothers are mentioned in this. And this can be whatever you want honestly. Platonic not so platonic. Maybe MC is dating one of them, maybe not. I kept it pretty vague!

MC is gender neutral.

_________________________

_________________________

"What is this?"

You push the envelope forward. "My letter of resignation."

Maybe it was a bit much handing it to him in person like this, but emailing just felt too cold. And yea he was your boss, but you considered Lucy a friend too and wanted to leave on the best note possible.

"I know you're busy but I wanted to let you know asap so we can plan accordingly."

Surprising to you, Lucifer seems slightly caught off guard. "Did you find new work?"

You nod with a smile. "Yep! It’s pay and benefits aren't as good but it's practically my dream job."

Lucifer observes you. It was obvious that working as his assistant was a lot of stress on you. Asmodeus mentioned your frustrations to him several times. But you always pulled through in the end. 

Did he overestimate you? No, overwork you?

"When do you leave?"

"2 weeks!"

-------

"They're literally going to the other side of the world you guys!"

“They’re what!?” Mammon responds, bewildered.

"They're moving to the other side of the world! A completely different country--this sucks!" Asmodeus lays his head down in his arms.

Unease fills the meeting room. This was new information to the rest of the brothers, including Lucifer. MC had never mentioned anything about moving and now an unwanted change had become much more unpleasant.  

-------

"Hey MC! Why didn't ya mention ya were moving to the other side of the world?" Mammon approaches from the meeting room, wasting no time.

"Ohhh... right, I forgot to mention that part to everyone. But it wasn't really that important honestly."

“What do ya mean it’s not important. It’s kind of a big deal!”

"....Okay yeah you're right, but it honestly slipped my mind. By the way, not on the other side of the world. Asmo likes to exaggerate, I swear. Either that or his geography could use some polishing."

You continue dropping random items from inside your desk into a box. You still had a week and half left but you wanted to take all your personal non-work stuff home to avoid forgetting anything. You were honestly surprised by how much unnecessary crap had found its way into the desk. It was a stark difference compared to your first couple of months working here.

When you first started, it sucked honestly. If it wasn't for the amazing pay you would have quit fairly quick. 

The first several months were rough, but with time you started getting used to working for the overbearing perfectionist that was Lucifer. Things started to feel routine, you could access possible issues before they happened. And Lucifer’s brothers coming in and out of this building stopped being an annoyance and began to be something to look forward to. You made friends with each and every one of them. Then even Lucifer eventually came around. And before you knew it had been 4 years.

You always thought about moving on to new work but would forget about it and go back to the usual routine. But recently, you were starting to feel content--no resigned. Like "I guess I could stay here forever…" resigned. And it scared you! So you immediately started job searching more seriously and your months of work paid off.

But I'm still gonna miss this place.

Next, Asmo is out of the room. He walks straight for you and wraps you in a tight hug. "MC don't leave us please!"

"I must--AH you're squeezing me too hard!"

He loosens his hold. "Sorry."

You pat his arm.

“Aren't ya gonna miss me--us? Whatever new people ya meet couldn't measure up to the Great Mammom!”

"That’s definitely true, but I need to spread my wings and fly you guys. Hmm…that sounded better in my head."

You notice Leviathan standing off to the side listening so you give him a smile. 

"Levi, why are you standing over there?"

He jumps but makes his way over from your prompting.

"S-So you really found your dream job. It sucks you're leaving but maybe it's a good thing too…"

You nod. "It's new and a little scary, but just consider it me starting a new arc in life."

"And honestly if you guys really want to talk to me, then keep in touch. You literally all have my number."

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to help much for cheering up Levi or the other two.

Fortunately though, Satan appears before the silence becomes unbearable.

"So you're finally escaping Lucifer MC?”

"Ha! I guess you could put it that way..."

Asmo crosses his arms, his frown deepening. "Please don't let him overhear that."

Satan shows what he's hiding behind his back. "I'll miss your company but I'd like to send you off on the right foot so I brought you a couple of items."

He hands you the gift bag.

"If this isn't a book, I'll be shocked," you say.

You peep inside and realize there's multiple things.

A hardback book from a series you and Satan are currently reading (of course), a neck pillow, and a kitty eye mask.

"Oh wait there's something else."

You dig in and pull out a bracelet. But not just any bracelet. A very limited edition one. It was official merch for one of your favorite series, but you couldn't afford it at the time when it was released.

"What the heck, how'd you find this? This came out years ago!"

"Lots of online searching, and thanks to Levi and Asmo we found a somewhat reasonable price to all pitch in for."

You put the bracelet on. 

“And in such a short time too…Im.never taking this off!” 

You grin. “Well…now I gotta hug you all!”

Before he responds you're crushing Satan, managing to fluster him. You then pull (a blushing) Levi and then Asmo in for a hug, the latter eagerly returning it. 

“No way ya guys are making me look bad,” Mammon says.

"Get in on the collab next time!" Asmo quips.

“Don't worry Mammon, I'll give you a hug later.”

“What? I didn't say anything about a hug…”

“So you don't want one. Got it.”

“Hold on, wait a second…”

You smirk and shake your head. “Okay help me move my stuff you guys so we have a reason to keep talking.”

-------

"Is Belphie still ignoring me?"

Beel nods. "Sorry MC. I think he just needs more time to process."

The other day after leaving the meeting room the youngest made a beeline for the elevator. He didn't even look your way.

"Ah he wounds me..."

"I'll talk to him. Maybe eating out together would help clear the air?"

“Oo, you, me and Belphie. Let's do it!”

Beel smiles that way you love and you give him a sudden hug. It couldn’t be helped, you had a soft spot for the two youngest brothers.”

“Beel, I’m gonna miss you so much!”

He returns the hug. "Me too. I wish you didn’t have to leave, but what makes you happy is most important."

You pull back to look at his face. “I swear you're way more mature than some of your older brothers.”

-------

As your last day gets closer and closer, the brothers (6 out of 7 at least) accept your impending departure. And along with that came endless gifts. It was like Satan triggered a competition to see who could do better. And it looked like you'd have to spend extra money on moving all this extra stuff that had been dumped on you.

Especially after that shopping spree Asmo took you on.

Start your new life with a new wardrobe MC!

Even Belphie had gotten over his initial shock after your dinner with him and Beel and gifted you several items. 

Please make sure to answer mine and Beel’s messages right away.

Don't worry I won't miss any of you or your brother's texts!

Who's talking about those others?

You chuckle at the memory. Belphie was too much sometimes.

You shake your head and sniffle. 

….Oh god. 

You wouldn't see them in person like this anymore! These moments with them. They would be far and few between once you started your new job.

And for some reason while you're surrounded by half packed boxes in your home, it’s finally hitting you.

Your phone pings and you wipe your eyes.

A text from Lucifer.

That was the last person you expected. He hasn't really been talking to you much outside of work since you gave him your resignation, and even then it was purely professional. It made you feel bad. Like your relationship had regressed.

So you quickly respond.

L: Did you already schedule transportation to the airport?

M: of course 👍 don’t wanna wait last minute

L: Make sure you double check the dates too.

M: lucy are you gonna miss me? :3c

If you didn’t bring it up, he might not say it out right.

L: You're so troublesome.

L: But yes, I will miss you.

L: And I honestly don't understand why you're leaving.

You stare at the messages. How were you supposed to respond to that?

M: i have to. it's what i want to do with my life…

L: Okay. Make sure you're on time tomorrow.

That's it? 

You let out an annoyed sigh.

-----

You're in Lucifer's office first thing in the morning. He looks up with you with a raised eyebrow when you barge in.

You drag a seat directly in front of his desk so he’s forced to look at you. "We are handling this right now. I want to leave here with no loose ends"

"What is there to handle exactly? Youre leaving this job in 3 days to start your new one."

"Lucifer, you're obviously upset at me and I want you to be happy for me....like everyone else."

"I'm not like everyone else."

"Obviously, everyone is different. You're all different. That's not what I meant..."

You take a deep breath, lean forward and rest your arms on his desk. "Be vulnerable with me this one time. I know you're going to miss me but I feel like that's not enough for you to be so cold towards me like this..." 

He’s quiet.

"Please Lucy?"

"...I don't want you to leave. The idea that I won't get to see you easily bothers me."

He looks away

"And I feel like I'm the reason you're leaving."

Oh.

“I'm so sorry, I know sometimes I joke around with your brothers but Lucifer it's not actually you. Work like this has always been stressful for me. It's always been. And I just happened to find where my limit was in this particular job.”

“I love you and all your brothers but my final goal was to always aim for work that would be easier on me mentally in a place where it was enough to sustain me. I just got too used to being here.”

"You handle every situation so calmly though. You're always on top of everything

"Heh my acting skills are just that good! But you're starting to understand I hope?"  

He crosses his arms. “I can’t be happy about you leaving MC.”

Your brows furrow.

“But I suppose I can support you going for what you really want.”

“You know what…I’ll take it!” You rest your head on your arms.

He smirks. “Now get out, I'm busy. We can talk more afterwards.”

[coffee-in-veins]

Hey there,

Sorry to hear about the entire shitfest with the DD contest and I think you argued your case well. It adds insult to injury that you showed your picture beforehand but the disqualification came right at the end of the deadline.

It's also double standards that Dismas' manspread bulge in the CC is fine, so is Amani and Audrey's backstory but someone has a seriously troubling view on what counts as erotica and they kick you out for it.

I saw this picture and thought "this looks familiar" but I couldn't really place why until you showed the For Honor reference (shame on me, I played that game like an addict for a while, even made a Reynauld character) and that is a pretty cool kill move. And you did the reference justice.

I hope that in time you will be able to look at the piece and not think of it as a waste of time. Sometimes it's hard to love a product when the people behind it disappoint us so much.

I for one would like to thank you for sharing your wonderful art with us and wish you all the best!

hello hello o/

thank you for reaching out to me. i really appreciate that. those two days were a mess and a half, not gonna lie. and i'm really happy to hear that you like the picture! the support shown for it definitelly dulled some of the "this is such a waste of my effort, love and care" feel, thank you and everyone else for it

the real salt to injury was that disqualification came *after* the showcase was posted. it's been an hour since all participants were shown in a new channel, and i started to get nervous and had to ask around who should i even talk to to get any info on what happened with my work. i thought that maybe i messed up and sent confirmation to rules from one email and the work itself from another... so the "too violent" (as i understood at the time) disqualification was like a kick to the throat.

when i started posting about the fact that i was disqualified for "violence" and people started wondering, then the mods came into picture. and the first one who contacted me even was on my side, seeing this as some mistake as well. so i had my false hopes.

i didn't include those snapshots because they were basically a couple of words with a promise to look into things. it was Lux, if anyone is wondering.

then the gem who wasted a few hours of my life appeared, trying to gaslight me into believing that incel interpretation of an execution pose is somehow my fault... you know the rest. by that point i wasn't meek or baffled. i was pissed.

now i'm mostly numb. double standards are the way to go, i suppose. when the guy argued that depiction of canonical events is bannable in the Hellsing he brought out of nowhere, i knew it was a lost cause.

heh, glad to hear you faintly recognized the pose and think i did it justice! that's always reassuring to hear. a small part of me wonders if it would've helped if i sent those pictures and video alongside the progress pictures we were required to send. most likely no. maybe i'm just trying to see if there was anything i could do to make things work... a faulty way of thinking, i suppose. the burden of evidence for accusation is on the accusing side, after all, and there was no evidence provided. and again, most of me just hopes for feeling closure in a day or six.

thank you again for your kind words and reassurance! it means a lot to me <3

p.s. also i know what my author's notes for each and every RRR chapter will be from now on ;}

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

The great regular sleep experiment of 2024 part "REM"

Again I get into bed by 10 or 10:10 ish and an undoubtedly asleep by 10:30... again I sleep, wake briefly, sleep again and wake to find it is 1:44 or 1:45...

Again I lay in bed 2 extra hours trying to sleep before giving up to go pee and feed my cat, alert as can be. Tired, but so so alert.

Again I have had dreams of being back in circumstances involving ex's ex friends and old roommates... This time I am trying to tell someone, "No really, the skinny corset style top isn't mine, it is too small, my rib-cage alone would break it and I don't wear girly things with pink print all over them, it has to be Fine's. IDC if it's black or if you think it would 'suit me'..."

And why? Because men in my life, friends or otherwise were always doing that. They'd find a "girl clothes" in their/the house that's about 2-5X girlier than my gay ass would ever wear, and insist on repeat that it "MUST" be mine, that I am just not remembering and getting defensive, sometimes accompanied with comments of thinking it would look good on me or wanting to see me in it... Always until some other "woman" [because they would not acknowledge my masculinity, other women are women, i'm just a gay] would come forward and be like "Yeah, no I left that here."

And always always always it was someone who should have known me better than that. Someone who could have only missed what I generally wore if they hadn't bothered really looking at me for years at a time in close proximity. And often either my partner, or someone who seriously had no business picturing me in ANY clothes/outfits [like being 20 years older than me]. Very often they would have me confused with another 'girl' with dark hair, even when they are dating me. There is an insult inherent to this.

And now I have to fuckign DREAM that? Bullshit.

Who did I piss off?

But I guess my point is, it's becoming clear that I have been sleeping like this all along, but usually strung together on one end of the day instead of spaced out, so I couldn't really tell that when I am sleeping 8 hours I might only actually be getting half that many REM cycles.

Because either:

-I am having REM cycles faster than most people which means I am getting two in 3 ish hours of sleep, which explains waking in the middle and having dreams on both sides of that [8 hour equivalent in terms of raw REM cycles]

-I am only having one rem cycle per sleep, interrupted, which means currently having 2 per day [4 hour sleep equivalent to most people]

And if you have recommendations for affordable home equipment to measure that I am all ears, because I wouldn't survive going to a sleep clinic.

Every trick I have ever used to combat insomnia is failing me. Self hypnosis, meditations, other things you do before bed that knock people out cold sometimes... Any medication that's made me sleepy before, all of it, none of it.

And I just get to wake up vaguely annoyed I am wasting my precious vivid dreaming time talking to people I removed from my personal space for a reason, and other generic dream actors.

And the night sleep, well that's the one that butts up against the nope-time, 5-10 am... but the day sleep, I have tried to encourage the day sleep to extend itself with no luck either.

If I stopped sleeping at night, I might get the two sleeps crammed back together, but then it's exactly what I don't want, sleeping all day, and also -by virtue of it being regularly scheduled sleep- I won't be sleeping any longer than I am now.

I always liked a half day schedule. I liked it in theory and in the moments I could hold onto it in practice. It solves a LOT of my problems including waking up halfway through the night and not being able to sleep again, and it being too hard to force myself awake all the way till my next sleep time, that's only half a day away at most now.

I just... I need more than 8 hours of sleep, and I am getting 6 on a good day.

And that brings me to the next point... I am pretty sure the conflict is this:

-I have a delayed sleep phase disorder that sometimes looks like a non-24 hour sleep disorder because of how it keeps pushing my bedtime back when I sleep at night [I am a 'night person']

-I am a "super sleeper" in that I have the genes to have shorter sleep cycles or for my body to think it needs one fewer to be alert

-I also have chronic fatigue and require extra rest/sleep regardless, maybe specifically sleep to help with healing and converting adenosine, and this is incompatible with also having the genes of a "super sleeper"

-I am one of those people hardwired to "two sleeps" as was once more fashionable, and this doesn't stack well with everything else or with the societal expectation that I should sleep 8 hours in one block and only at night.

-My most natural time to fall asleep is right after sunrise and that is the ONE time it is most safe for me to run errands now, due to 'infectious dose' [or the dose of virus I -personally- react to, short of infection] vs 'viral load' [virus levels that build up in the air in buildings through the day] and the fucking perpetual plague, so it is the one time I need to be habituated to being alert enough to go out. First thing at opening, after walking there.

In a world without the plague I could probably sleep from midnight to whenever and only have to deal with SOME of the... Byproducts~ of a regular sleep schedule, a lot of people don't expect you to be an early morning person when you are disabled.

Anyway I am just going to start biting people now. [In dreams? who can say! It worked on the sleep paralysis demons didn't it?]

Love that I decided to do this to myself just to make SUPER SURE that regular sleep wouldn't solve my problems...

At least I am not hallucinating or having night terrors, sleep paralysis etc.

[anulithots]

"You get in the way."

(Philo isn't in this one that much but I don't have anymore sketches of faer right now :)

The tumblr houseplant series: Philodendron. Episode three.

The tumblr houseplant series: Growing a garden of houseplants based off this weird thing called existence, "planted" by others from tumblr.

The Philodendron from @rainisawriter

"I think one of the biggest things I struggle to overcome is taking things to heart. I'm quite sensitive, see, and I tend to take things personally even when it isn't personal at all."

Episode one - Weather you like it or not

Episode two - What a debut

Note - this is still a first draft, any feedback is much appreciated <3

TRIGGER WARNING - slight self-deprecation.

------

Philo strolled around the garden's walls, making sure to keep to the shadows and the foliage. Fae tucked faer leaves close enough to faer sides to hurt.

During the last festival, Rose didn't want Philo to take part with faer group. Fae said Philo's leaves would get in the way, that faer leaves lacked the dexterity needed to win the festival games....

Philo shook faer head, swallowing faer acid bile. No, no. That whole 'woe is me' session already lasted a week, with faer avoiding faer plant and any reflective surface. It shouldn't affect faer anymore. It shouldn't matter.

Philo unfurled faer leaves. It would be fine...

They would tell fear that faer leaves took up too much space...

Philo squeaked and gibbered the embarrassment that singed faer wingtips away. Wobblily rocks filled faer throat.

Philo pressed faer paws foreward. Ignore, ignore... Why was this so hard to ignore?

Fae spent the last THREE DAYS unmoving from faer dusty corner. Three entire days where it could've rained or the clouds could've formed pictures or the wind could've had interesting patterns.. and it was all wasted on fretting over a simple question. How long before Philo's entire life consisted of nothing but recovering from passing comments?

Philo scowled. This was why fae needed to keep faer guard up constantly, especially when was excited. It always happened when fae was excite-

"Hello again!"

Philo stumbled over faer paws and fell into a heap, dust puffing into a cloud. Fae coughed.

Dottie.

Not Dottie.

Fae was nice and all but..

'How would that work?'

Philo squeezed faer eyes shut, for a moment, two. Perhaps fae could pretend Dottie didn't exist and fae would be gone when Philo opened faer eyes.

Dottie held out faer paw. "I couldn't find you for AGES and I thought I scared you away and my entire dust cleaning idea would fail before it started and - oh no, I'm oversharing... Whoops."

Philo propped faerself up and tried cough up the rest of the dust.

Dottie tilted faer head. "Ohhh... that's- that's a lot of - you know."

Philo's insides lit aflame. "Yes. Astute observations... goodbye."

Philo tried to rush away before fae melted into a green puddle, but Dottie stumbled in front of faer and - why did fae have to be so persistent? Philo found it much easier to avoid all faer previous friends....

...that was pathetic.

Dottie grinned a half-smile. "Well you miigght need a dust cleaning. If you want to, obviously, not forcing you... hopefully. I'm not forcing you, right?"

Philo would spontaneously combust if fae did not leave. right. now.

Fae growled. "Yes you are forcing and annoying and do not ask me about any 'cleanings' because I. do. not. want. on-"

Philo coughed on another cloud of dust and proceeded to implode.

Perhaps the group would swallow faer up and fae would be free from this mess.

Dottie padded closer. "Are you alright? Dust is really painful if you let it get bad but I'm sure I can hel-"

Philo snapped.

"No you cannot come closer because if you do you will judge but in such a nice way that I can't say anything in return and I CANNOT deal with that right now or ever so can you please mind your own plant for once and stay over there thank you very much."

Dottie blinked, eyes watering.

Philo recoiled.

By the stars... why did fae say that? Fae made it so, so much worse.

Well, there goes one more ruined friendship, add it to the list.

.... This would repeat in faer head for days.

[next episode - You're being unreasonable]

[nihilnovisubsole]

Thank you! That actually helps a lot. I'm the anon who sent you that question you about what your writing journey has been like. I just recently graduated from an M.A program in English and so I'm sorta in a slump and feeling dejected as I look for jobs, so I think it is more so professionally as I'm in an in-between moment in my life. I've been writing for a long while, my own snippets of original works as well as fanfics in my free time while I was earning my degree, though right now I do feel in a similar spot that you describe being in during your late teens. I'm scared of failure, the thought I might be wasting time, and that I'm not good enough. Writing is something I love and hunger for in a professional scope, but my worries are also getting in my way and make me feel as if I am at a standstill or making no progress. Though I know I just have to start and go and that writing something is better than not doing anything at all. So I just need to get out of that funk I'm in now.

And if it's no trouble, I would love to hear about your job-hunting. I think it would be very useful to hear.

well, it sounds like you're already most of the way there. you're right. we do just have to start. the only way out is through. i find transitional phases in life are, in general, hard, and it's difficult to set off when you don't know where you're going. i think it's why i've thrown myself at so many over-scoped, half-cocked, abandoned story ideas in the past three years. pandemic time is altered, and you have to put that energy somewhere, even if you later find out the project isn't going to work.

so, job-hunting. full disclosure, i can only speak to game writing, because that's what i've been working in since 2017. game writing - or narrative design - is odd. full-time, salaried NDs are a small group, and big studio openings are very rare. i also take rejection hard, which made things interesting, because applying to jobs is like baseball: 90% failure. you have to have a thick skin to make it in a creative industry. i do not! i've just developed coping mechanisms for it. there's nothing like vacuuming the whole house when you're upset. you know that scandinavian guy who said, "i chop wood until i'm too tired to care?" he gets it.

[although, it's funny, since you brought it up: the "academia to gamedev" pipeline is more common than you might think. i work with a former professor, and i have another pal with a Ph.D. my theory is that all the research trained their brains to crunch systems.]

sometime in 2019, i became unsatisfied with the mobile romance job. it happens. time to go somewhere else. i learned fast that i couldn't go on indeed and search "narrative design." most openings came through word of mouth, and some weren't public at all. in short, if i were to hear about a writing job posting, i'd hear about it through the grapevine, and that meant networking. being active on twitter became non-negotiable. i had to meet other game writers and see what they were up to. there's an inherent tension there, because you're looking for a job, but you have to genuinely want to share your work and learn about theirs. i mean, we should always be genuine, but people can tell when you're only out to get something from them. [not that you would! it still bears bringing up.]

if this sounds excruciating, remember, despite the permanence of the internet, people don't get hung up on awkward encounters like we think they do. i was so annoying that first year, faking it 'til i made it, like a 21-year-old who insists she's mature enough for her parents' martini lunch. in time, i met people who were closer to my pay grade. i did a couple of game jams. i settled in. it felt good.

but i still wanted a job! so i timidly applied to a few studios. it took me three months to land an interview. i bombed it. it was humiliating. the thing about being early-career is that every app feels life-or-death, like every interview will be your last chance to prove yourself. "if you screw this one up, nothing will ever come around again!" and it often didn't, for months at a time. but i was stubborn. i kept at it.

still, after a year of that, i grew so burned-out and desperate that i had to swallow my ego and ask people for help. a friend of mine hooked me up with another indie contract. i got job coaching, which prescribed some hard-to-swallow pills. mainly, i needed more experience. mobile games could be a tough sell to AAA studios, and dangerous crowns would never substitute for game work. i can't lie, that frustrated me. i had to go through a grieving process. when i emerged, i gained a level of emotional detachment about it. when you realize you have homework, it doesn't matter how you feel. your assignment is to do a good job and meet your intended goal. i made contrition. i joined a portfolio-building workshop. i began planning dressed to kill. if that was what it took, that's what i had to do.

that's when, mysteriously, things shifted. i got more interviews. in summer of '21, i applied to obsidian for the first time. i said, "what the hell, college-me would kill me if she heard i didn't apply to The New Vegas People." i got rejected, but learned i'd made it to the final round. that was different. that was intoxicating. they liked me. i'd almost made it. they encouraged me to apply again, something i once found unthinkable. but, hey, i'd gotten close, right? so i took the company of heroes contract, which ended up being great. and in winter, when obsidian posted another job, i applied again.

there were other things. participating in the VOW writers' strike put my friends and i in game news. that was a pleasant, intimidating surprise. if nothing else, i learned that, like love trouncing your fear of failure, your desire to push through has to be stronger than your shame. trust me, i know. i'm ashamed of everything. but when it really counts, i think your instinct will tell you that it's worth sticking with it.

[no-mes]

Took me too long to write this down.

Too long that now, my mind has overcooked my thoughts and abd this version might now be heavier, weightier and still mean nothing at all.

This is my POV, there is no part of this that reflects anyone in a way I did not perceive them, their image in these words are from a mirror that I made from my mind, my memories. Nothing else.

I hear the word codependent and think 'That doesn't describe me.' I've found out now, I'm at risk.

I talk about how much my friends save me, that's now. Before, things were different. I've always been in danger of getting my heart broken by myself, how I wholly immerse myself in being that one friend you can't discard, shaping myself to please, to impress, to look up to, to emulate. It's always with one particular person, thank God. There'd be nothing left of me otherwise, stretched to thinness from my folding and cutting over multiple people, my friendship monogamy saved my life.

I don't remember a first that is not B, she was the moon to me, I longed for her approval, ready to be her minion. All she had to do was exist, I wanted to be seen by her, cherished the way I cherished her. I tried so hard to hold on to her but I saw even then that I didn't fit her mould, she wanted things and people and an image and sometimes, I wasn't in these images and so I was left behind, often. At Navy for GCEs. That's all on that episode, that was the first time it started. Or the first time I saw. Years passed and texts looked like that line from the Eilish song.

Our conversation's all in blue, eleven 'hey's.

I saw her convos with other people and I wanted to be them, have half of what she had with them. It couldn't happen, maybe it was me, maybe it was her, it doesn't matter. I wasn't used by her. I used myself by myself. I wanted to be close to her so much and I was, I took every part of her she gave but I was never going to get what I wanted but I didn't think of that and so never realised it and I held on and on. Used myself up to fill a longing for kinship. Why? I don't know. My retrospection has left that corner of my mind.

I don't regret. It's such a waste to regret. I hate that I didn't learn this part of myself sooner, that way I'd have avoided doing the same for M. I don't remember much, she was not as intellectually challenging as B. There was no game to her words, they showed all the depth that they had immediately she spoke them but still I bent, backward and forward for her to see me, to like me. I am my own danger, years again of being what I would hate later, something I couldn't forgive. I gave her precedence over my sister. More than once. That's all. I do not remember how I came to devolve. But M came with more drama, a ruined reputation and a family gathering where I wasn't there. It's a pity really, that event taught me shame in a weird way and still I fold. In bigger pieces now but still for her, for her family. I forgive myself her.

I am needy and selfish with people, that is the core of my problem. Like a leech, I am clingy to the point of pain. I will not leave till I've been embarrassed. I will also not turn back.

It isn't shocking then that the last time I'll cling, it will be to a MB. Oh, how closely did I cling. It's not embarrassing this time. I started to unravel myself with her, started learning what my issue was. Spoke about it like a warning. 'Be careful, I'd die for you. Just please don't hang out with your other friends too much.'

Insane, very insane. I'd coordinate outfits and be rejected and in rejecting me she shamed me and in my shame, I learnt there might be strength in my knees, I could stand up and walk away. But she did it first. That MB and the imperial need for me to leave her space.

That's enough unspooling. For now.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Temptation - Chapter 32 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

Going home from school I feel a bit better but not really.

Even though making up with Jay was a good thing that I'm glad happened, the other negatives in my life overpower it.

I'm attempting to do my homework after staring at it blankly for half an hour when I hear a knock on my door.

Assuming Lucien's just come home, I say...

"Come  in."

The door opens slowly and I scramble to stand up from the bed.

Because it's not Lucien.

It's his son.

Daemon looks worn down and scruffy, obviously having just gotten back from his mission.

"I know I'm being a fucking pain but I just... I couldn't go home without seeing you," he says, his voice raw and vulnerable.

I feel a whirlwind of emotions as the words leave his mouth, yet all I can do is tear up at the sight of him.

"Daemon," my voice trembles when I say it.

I put my hands over my face, turning away.

How do I face him now?

I don't have to think long about how to deal with the situation because then he's embracing me from behind, pulling me against him.

"I'm sorry, Ash. I'm so sorry," he murmurs, my back to his chest. 

It's like the strength has left my legs and I sink to the ground, Daemon going with me.

One touch and I'm weak, realizing how much I've missed the warm cage of his arms.

"Daemon..." I say his name with anguish.

"I-I shouldn't have let you leave like that. I'm sorry for turning you a-away," I start to cry, the regret of everything flooding in.

"Don't apologize for anything. I'm the one who fucked up."

I shake my head, sniffling as he pulls me in even tighter.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I was shit to you."

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, kissing me tenderly there.

"I'm so sorry."

I take in a few deep breaths, hiccuping and trying to calm down as he just holds me, his grip tight yet not painful, just enough to show me that he doesn't want to let me go.

I don't want him to let me go, either.

My hands come to grasp his strong arms that wrap around my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

He takes this as a sign to loosen them and when he does, I turn, throwing my arms around his neck.

"I forgive you," I say softly.

He wastes no time crushing me in his embrace again, pulling me fully into his lap.

"The redhead's right, you know. I don't deserve you," he says quietly, his brows creasing in sincerity.

"No," I shake my head.

"She's not. I'm the one w-who doesn't deserve you."

Daemon frowns.

"Why would that be?"

"Because I'm s-so stupid sometimes. And I frustrate you. A-And I'm a burden that you never asked for. I f-feel guilty that you even have to d-deal with me," I admit.

He brings his forehead to mine, his expression pained.

"That's not true baby. None of it. And I'm a piece of shit for making you feel that way."

I look at him a moment before I start to cry again.

How am I supposed to believe that?

Does he really not see me as a burden?

"Shit," Daemon pulls my head under his chin, gently stroking my back up and down.

"I didn't mean to make you cry more."

"I'm sorry," I sniffle, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly in my hands.

"No more apologies," he kisses my forehead.

"Don't feel bad for having fucking emotions. It's better than keeping everything inside until you explode at the worst moment. Like I did."

We're quiet for a while after that, my head resting against his chest as I try to ground myself.

"Why do you do that, Daemon? Why do you keep it inside?" I finally ask.

He's quiet for a moment.

"Because... it's hard to talk about. I have this feeling of dread when I think about how people will react. How they'll think of me once they know."

I can relate to that all too well.

That's why I've never told anyone about what my stepfather did to me.

Because I don't want them to think of me as an unstable freak.

To pity me.

"I-I get it. You don't have to tell me what happened if it's uncomfortable for you."

"No," Daemon immediately dissents.

"I want to give you an explanation. It doesn't excuse me lashing out like that but... I at least want to tell you why."

"You can trust me. I'll never judge you," I reassure, snuggling up against him.

He takes a deep breath, absentmindedly stroking his hand up my arm.

"Okay... The day you came to the pack-house.

It was the anniversary of my mother's death.

Rose's death.

Rose wasn't actually my biological mom.

Lucien's not my real father, either.

My real parents were both rogues.

They had been cast out of their pack and traveled across the continent searching for a place we could start anew.

But they caught Xaerva.

The disease killed them slowly.

I didn't catch it, I don't think.

I didn't understand what was going on.

I was only three.

And, I don't even know how I fucking remember this but my mom sat me down one day..."

[bellshazes]

happy halloween, here's my horror-inducing bdubs wild life episode 2 fic. some director's commentary notes:

the title is from t.s. eliot's the waste land, and i didn't know how the fic was gonna end when i decided this, so it's more earworm than the fact that bdubs is so fear death by water-coded.

the prose is heavily influenced by calvino's under the jaguar sun, but bdubs' imposition of hidden rules on nature is all renfield from dracula, specifically the 1931 film which repurposes jonathan's initial stay at casle drac as renfield backstory to the servitude

there are a lot of half-baked puns that exist mostly to make me laugh: whetting appetite and teeth, the ciphers and "code" of the wildcard food mechanics which is a mod, all of the bad jokes about "keeping time" because, get it, he ate a clock! it's in his tummy. that's where he keeps time

I was really fascinated by how the constant attempts to block or whatever led to accidentally eating valuables, and what it meant that it seemed the food was what changed when there were mechanical effects on their character bodies. and in his group at the wildcard roll, bdubs being the first to notice the hunger change....

also every build bdubs has ever done on the life series loudly proclaims his relationship with safety and an attempt to impose his particular worldview at the time on the world via physical form but his use of the golden ratio in this episode and separation as defense was really convenient. break down nature! manipulate it for power and safety!

I did not want to write about human hunger or eating issues; it was important to me that the hunger be mostly strange and alien and a compulsion toward devouring/consumption, but strictly a la a magic curse, or slow descent into madness. obviously it couldn't be avoided entirely, but i did try very hard to make it distinct.

bdubs does eat polished deepslate he knows will infest him in the storage cave with joel, as joel is going through deepslate blocks' edibility. why? he has grass and dripstone. honestly my version is more logical, in a bdubs-in-the-fic-type-logical way. when i noticed, i sat there and had to think about whether i really was going to commit to the whole renfield motif of eating animals that have eaten other living things and well. there was only one way it could go (sorry)

i wanted to do more with liquids - the initial hungry salivating, the arrows' blood, the dripstone after going down smooth "like the arrows" (due to the blood) and of course the clock-conduit/water breathing/final scene complications. there are threads there, if i tell you to look for them, but it's too short of a piece and my writing too slow to spend another 1000 words trying to weave it in smoothly. but i do think it's etho's secondhand blood-drawing that kickstarts the real madness that differentiates bdubs' mania from the others'.

Almost all spoken lines are from canon or close to them, with some modifications for clarity or - for the final scene only - omitting one or two lines in a conversation for pacing. (and eliding some too-gamey elements - Strength V is just strength, etc.) Etho's "slide them down your gullet and say thank you," and in particular the way he said it also contributed heavily to the vibe and need to write this beast.

Also, on the list of things I wish I'd had the time to spend refining and making consistent, but the idea was - the sentences are long and rhythmic with stacked clauses, comma after comma et cetera when Bdubs is confronting or succumbing to the hunger; it's short, staccato sentences when he thinks of order. The meter of the sentences is different, although I could NOT stop alliterating because, I don't know, too much Anglo-Saxon poetry in my youth? They're two sides of the same coin though; the clock's steady rhythm is part of the mania and craziness, not an antidote to it. It only serves to drive him deeper into the long winding passages of being consumed by consumption.

with a wicked pack of cards (gen/horror, 3.3k)

The nothingness choked him, slid down his throat, settled achingly in his belly. He gasped, swallowing yet more nothing with each panicked breath, tension rising, strangely certain that it was the deepening pit in his stomach that was consuming him. He was dust empty, mouth wool-watering, desert dry - and then that lingering at the tip of his tongue resolved into speech, loud with all the empty air inside of him released like a high pressure valve: I'm zombie hungry.

Bdubs tries to put order to his wild hunger, no matter what it takes to satisfy it.

On AO3 or below the cut. Content warnings for body horror, implied physical transformations, implied (non-permadeath) murder, insect eating, mild self-injury, and cannibalism. Inspired by Bdubs' interaction with Scar while fording the river in episode 2.

At the dealing of the second card, the body, whose previous unruliness had some sense in it, now had senses that fled, revolted, confounded, fell apart, misfired.

The first sensation had been familiar, lingering on the tip of his tongue like a word once known and now forgotten, or perhaps misplaced, or misused. The weight of its absence sat heavy in his mouth, drawing down saliva and anxious air. The nothingness choked him, slid down his throat, settled achingly in his belly. He gasped, swallowing yet more nothing with each panicked breath, tension rising, strangely certain that it was the deepening pit in his stomach that was consuming him. He was dust empty, mouth wool-watering, desert dry - and then that lingering at the tip of his tongue resolved into speech, loud with all the empty air inside of him released like a high pressure valve: I'm zombie hungry.

The others knew, because they had none of them escaped some desert, some zombie, some brief terrifying hunger in any number of worlds - but faces contorted and limbs jerked as if the strings that drew them across the body and dove hands into pockets or slid palms over mouths had snagged and knotted, contorting intent into some misunderstood action. Objects stuttered in hands, and across the group amongst the incoherent concerns, Mumbo's voice rang all in one breath.

"I can eat my pickaxe," he said.

The strange language of other bodies resolved a little, the glass between himself and the world wiped clean. The angle at which that pick hovered in front of Mumbo had, in the peripheral vision, been easily assumed to be merely a defensive posture, but now with focus resembled more a skewer just picked clean. It was only wood and stone, but reflected the sun just in front of Mumbo's open mouth.

Reflexes tensed his arm and raised it, the grip of his fingers around uneven cobble convulsing, poised as if to examine or divide or reduce it, to throw it away from him, preparing a decisive action, and when his hand had traversed the full arc, he felt stone at his lips.

The hunger was already fully there, but several people had levitated away after scooping dirt into their surprised mouths before Bdubs could make room for anything. Cobble made him nauseous, all the emptiness of his stomach now gnawing at muscle, sinking into bone. It occupied him, infected him. He could no longer rely on this body to obey his intent in ways that had once made sense - or in ways he had once thought they did, perhaps.

Even in the oldest games like this, your body and the usual laws of the world were subordinate to the survival urges. Finite bodies, bodies which did not heal, bodies which even death did not restore, conditions on the sating of hunger were all familiar, grown natural. The itch of the killing curse was only a temporary sickness. Swords arms had twitched, footsteps crept too close to new targets - but it was controllable, had been controlled, until the last, when he told himself he had decided to act.

Looking out at the world, the first wild card had only made perception more true: slinking toward the ground brought you closer to the overlooked and immeasurable small things, so that all the world seemed to tower over the little forgotten kingdoms of earth and stone; reaching upwards, jumping, ascending all made the world smaller in comparison to your own vantage point. But it had been the body that changed, always changing, subordinated to conscious will but equally governed by absentminded instinct.

In the night, Etho came running to the river, arrows in hand, laugh a little manic. "Eat the arrows, slide it down your gullet, and say thank you."

Bdubs drew out his own small stash of arrows scavenged from skeletons. Tango took one from Etho and snapped it in half and set to chewing. Had Tango always had that many teeth? Had they always been so sharp? The light was low, the moon thin, the hunger urgent; he could not read his body, its signals and ciphers and code.

He tilted his head back toward the sky, held the arrow at the fletching, let gravity settle its pendulous swing above him. He smiled and his mouth opened wide. The arrow fell, pointed head drawing blood from his tongue, throat, washing away the accumulated desperate spit, food and drink both, and he let the roiling emptiness consume it.

Not long after, he made a clock and swallowed it whole. To keep time made him feel more whole, more of himself, and this way there could be no losing it. The clock sat heavy in his stomach, providing a steadying, mathematical precision against which he could mete out the following days and nights. He saw more clearly, and was drawn to water, but did not enter it, though he marked out the eventual course of a moat to keep their island safe.

Even unruly bodies could build and bring order to the landscape. The area needed cleared, devoured, made empty for the next steps. They needed walls between them, some container to keep the hunger from spilling, mixing, combining, growing out of control. The clock beat metronomic agreement as the emptiness clawed at his low ribs, its weight a comfort even as it dragged the pit of hunger deeper, down and down and down with each twitch of the gears.

He only got as far as laying the law down for three tower island before the natural order changed again. The polished deepslate he'd kept at hand now barely satisfied the beast in his belly; he was suddenly aware of how the dark cold stone ground only to loose chunks between his dull molars, coating his mouth with dust and grit. How had he not noticed before, the way it choked and grated, clogging his throat? He swallowed thickly, some rubble caught there, and swallowed again, trying to dislodge it, all attention narrowed to the constriction of his throat, salivating desperately, swallowing, a little movement, swallowing and swallowing, until it dislodged and he could no longer swallow, for it was crawling back up his esophagus, writhing, a thousand sharp edges prodding his flesh, frantic as if all the desperation he felt were escaping with animal fear, scrabbling against the back of his teeth.

Panicking, he stumbled toward Etho, reaching out with one hand and tapping his fist soundly against his chest with the other. But Etho fled before he could communicate, sickly green and twitching with poison shock. He began to scream, but the only noise that left him was the sound of silverfish falling from his gaping mouth.

The silverfish scurried away as everyone scrambled with their own crises of sound or physical affliction. Bdubs snapped back to action as Cleo arrived, and shared her stalactites. They went down like the arrows had, soothing his sore throat and washing away the dust. The taste of cracked eggshells lingered not unpleasantly on his tongue; his pulse settled back into the clock's stable rhythm. There was something like a congestive drip in his throat, but he didn't feel sick. He felt fine again, his appetite whetted.

Etho needed saving, as usual, cowering inside their temporary structure with fistfuls of lapis, unable to get full. He passed dripstone through between the cobble post and the wall, aiming a couple at the small of his back to get Etho's proper attention, and despite his initial skepticism, Etho ate. He'd come around and listen someday, Bdubs told himself. He would get his team to take care of themselves before others, take the world as it was in all its cruel order and get them to build up their own defenses.

In the morning, he crossed the river to visit Gem and Joel, who were eating grass.

"It's even better than dripstone," Gem said, pushing a fistful at him. Her fingers were stained light green; when he took the grass from her, there were thin, reedy lines across her empty palm.

More visitors arrived, pulling her attention away. Bdubs ate and found she was right. He ran his tongue over his teeth and considered his ground-down molars. He had nearly forgotten there were permissible organics, all the leaves and once-inedible plant life - but then, it had a certain soundness to it, that life could be better prolonged by consuming living things. A kind of natural order, like the golden ratio - common, comforting, exploitable.

His throat itched. He followed Joel into the storage cove, watching him rifle through chests and consider a variety deepslate configurations before swallowing them. Joel's teeth looked sharper, too, like he had imagined Tango's were the night of the arrows. They certainly held up and broke down stairs and walls and polished tile with ease, without breaking.

Joel looked up and grinned wide and thin through cracked lips. A little trickle of blood was trailing from the corner of his mouth, carving a path through the dust Bdubs hadn't realized was coating Joel's face. "Polished deepslate stairs are pretty good," he said before turning back to his chests for more supplies.

"Is that so?" said Bdubs. There was no stonecutter, but he did have one last block of polished deepslate on hand, from before the re-shuffling. He thought of the silverfish, the infestation - they must eat small plants or fungal growth, down in the caverns and mountain hollows where they normally lived, surely accumulating many little grasses within them - and if grass was good, better than stalactites…

He popped the deepslate into his mouth and bit down, cracking it like a bone. No panic, now; he swallowed and chased the rubble with one deep breath, drawing in more air than he knew he could hold, ribs and chest straining under the expansion of his lungs, the weight in his stomach, counting tick, tock, tick, tock until he could breathe in no more and began releasing all that breath even more slowly to the tick tock, tick tock.

The silverfish came crawling up, but they were less frantic or perhaps he was more prepared, as when they spilled into his mouth, he widened his jaw with shut lips just enough that when they moved forward, seeking an exit, he snapped his teeth closed again, crushing them. He repeated the action without thought; taste and texture had long ceased to matter, imparting no feeling other than the briefest of satiation, and after so many rocks and stones the thin, vulnerable carapaces and tiny limbs of insects were almost gentle.

If Joel noticed his rhythmic soft crunching seemed different than gnawing on stone should, he didn't say anything, and then Impulse arrived with a watchful Gem at his heels, and Bdubs let the chaos of the scene carry him away.

The day waned. He stuck to the surface, planting trees to harvest logs and leaves. He was losing patience with other people, who he instinctively felt wouldn't appreciate his discovery, his new science. Pearl and Scar had swum across the river only a minute after he returned home and were such a nuisance he barely registered Etho prodding him to use the enchanter for fear of Scar taking it away or worse.

Impulse showed up too, because two troublemakers following him back from Gem and Joel's simply wasn't enough. "What you guys eating on?" he asked.

"Stalagmites," Bdubs lied, cleaing up the dripstone he'd tried to use to protect their only fortification.

"Did anybody hear that?" Pearl said before he could even finish the word, standing presumptuously in their doorway, shouting a little over the din of thunder and people squabbling about what the meal of the day was.

"Yes, of course there's noises, Pearl, everything's going - going crazy," Bdubs huffed, drawing out the last word and snapping the two syllables apart into distinct pieces. He turned on his heel toward the back of their island-to-be, away from all the hullabaloo and static that drowned out his strong pulse, the perfect mechanical motion of the body he was cultivating.

He fumed while chopping trees. How could anyone only just now register the full range of immediate effects, while he was discovering the hidden ones, the intricacies of consumption? Pearl herself had protested when Gem accused her of already going red in the day, with her one beaten-up eye - a familiar sight to Bdubs, who knew what a bad fall could do. But Gem and Pearl were both wrong, as Pearl was neither red nor merely scuffed, her sunken eyes and thinned-out cheeks a clear warning not to succumb to the hunger or else suffer its changes.

It was so clear to him now, scuttering energy propelling each swing of his axe in perfect time, that it was not the food that changed but them, their bodies, their teeth and mouths and ears and stomachs and eyes and hands, skin and bones and flesh. Not only changed but changeable, just as it had been with the changing of size, if you only bothered to understand the rules. Even the strangest rules had logics to unravel, spiraling out into encompassing, comprehensible patterns; or perhaps spiraling inward, smaller and smaller until every piece and fragment of the world could be expressed in its strange ciphers.

The last of Gem's grass got him through enough trees that by the time he returned to drop off the wood and foliage he'd harvested, the disharmonious crowd had left again to bother some other poor soul. But it wasn't satisfying even as he knew he was full and not falling prey to the emptiness' unending desire for more; since consuming the silverfish, mere harvest lacked that vitality. There were few other options, as there was no more deepslate to induce them. He knew the pattern well enough now to follow its long arc toward the only satisfying next target: if living things made old stone unsatisfying, and live creatures surpassed picked plants, then this cultivated hunger could only be fed by some larger, hungrier thing than silverfish. All the usual animals were out, meat of any type inducing terrible starvation-weakness, that old zombie hunger; the unusual animals had nothing to give beyond that had not already been tested and found inferior.

He bit into the last of the oak saplings he'd been planting as he approached Scott and Etho, who were blessedly calm and outside the fortification and, apparently, talking about him.

"Bdubs is working hard," Etho said, and Scott nodded appraisingly.

The green growth of the sapling went down easily, barely reminiscent of more lively stuff - but then, a burn spreads from his chest and down his arms, lighting up the nerves and veins, branching out and drawing his hands closed, one going to the sword at his hip. "Oh, what do I have here," Bdubs said, and lifted the sword from its sheath in one hand with an airy smoothness he had never possessed before. "Strength," he said, flourishing the sword and tossing the last saplings to Etho. "From an oak sapling."

"Be careful not to get annoyed and punch anybody. You could practically one-shot anybody on the server like that," Scott said eyeing his posture, and Bdubs was pleased that someone recognized his transformation, all the work he had done.

"Oh, I wanna kill somebody," Bdubs said through gritted teeth, striding toward the river with long, strong strides. The hunger and the adrenaline reminded him faintly of his time as the boogeyman, but he had never felt so clear-headed, so in control.

"Scar's about ready to cross the water there," Etho said behind him, a little softly and with a laugh.

Bdubs wasn't laughing, his eyes fixed on Scar and the cow in the water, Cleo trailing. "It's so juicy - I'd take him out."

He couldn't make out the words, but he recognized Scar's cries of frustration and Cleo's amusement. The cow tread water aimlessly, trying to follow the wheat in Cleo's hands despite Scar tugging on it, occasionally dragging its head under the water for brief seconds. They were going to breed the cows, foolishly in anticipation of when they could eat like they used to, obsessed with the wrong consumption and overly sure of their place at the top of a food chain that had been totally upended.

Bdubs ran his tongue over his teeth and between one tick of the clock and the next made his decision and dove into the water, swimming direct and efficient over to the ruckus.

Scar managed to notice the noise of him cutting across the river even over the cow's sad braying. "Look at him, I told you!"

Bdubs placed strong hands on his shoulders, so that Scar's grip on the buoyant cow kept them both afloat. His nails dug into fabric, and he pulled himself closer, treading water. "Hello, delicious!"

"I told you this man was hungry!" shouted Scar as Cleo giggled helplessly in the background, both of them acting as if it were a joke. "Go eat grass, that's the only thing that works."

They didn't know better, but they'd learn, just as his teammates would learn that it had to be every man for himself, every person against the world, and eventually, the rules dictated that there could only be one, all the others falling by the wayside, consumed. He could teach that lesson even if he could not win.

"No, you know what's better, what's going to make you foam at the mouth? A sapling gives you strength, enough to one-shot anybody on the server."

"Oh, wow," Scar said, attention finally leaving the cow, interest piqued by bloodlust as usual.

Bdubs smiled. "Wanna see?" he said, and without hesitating, sunk his stone-sharpened teeth into Scar's shoulder, through the fabric of his vest and shirt and deep into the meat of his shoulder. Suddenly, the playful crowing turned to an animal screech, driving the cow further away and blocking Cleo's view.

"Cleo!" shouted Scar, but without the cow or anything else to hang onto, it was him that slipped under the water's surface, gurgling and trying to orient himself.

Water did nothing for the hunger, but with sharp pulls Bdubs could widen the rip in Scar's shirt and finally, finally tear into flesh of that living thing which had grown stronger from all the accumulated life, and he swallowed it whole, blood leeching into the water, confusion from above now loud enough to drown out Scar's bubbling desperation, concern from Cleo and even faintly Etho's nervous holler, surfacing to reaching arms as he backpedaled and gasped for breath, lungfuls of air that invigorated him even as Scar tried to thrash in his hold, wild-eyed and hoarse.

"I told you," Scar croaked, but Bdubs held Cleo's worried eye and was sure, knew with total confidence that if anyone understood it would be Cleo, who could not fault him for his hunger and his desperation, since he had betrayed no one, and if she did find fault then that was good too, to protect her own self from the threats that would come not from the world and its next deal of the cards but the players, and with a red and toothy smile that revealed how this injury was dealt, he tried to prepare one last push before the strength left him, and bit into a sign because he had left the sapling with Etho.

With a moment's lull, Scar began to kick and nearly got away, bloody and carved-out shoulder now visible to all bystanders who had all also failed to understand what hunger meant until they saw it fulfilled, but the birch imparted a familiar feeling, and Bdubs announced:

"Water breathing - and now, I'll see you all later," before sinking into Scar's outstretched, flailing arm and deep into the water, down the underwater ravine, and finally, finally, ate until he was full.