#problems with feeling like i'm not real and i don't exist. and it helps me tether myself to know that there are certain things i love that

[chemicallywrit]

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! It's been a long week and I'm exhausted, but art exists and stories are beautiful and I love getting to see people's work. Let's get into it.

⚡️ This week I listened to the first episode of @heartglasspod and was just blown away. Like not only are the writing stellar and the characters instantly fascinating, but this concept is so beautiful and weird that I am all in. There’s something very tempting about being able to talk to a loved one who’s passed, especially one whose death is suspicious, but the memory issue and the actual cosmological distance between our characters is bound to cause problems. I can’t wait to see where it goes.

🧛🏻‍♂️ The thing about @theholmwoodfoundation is: I love Tom. I love him. I can’t help but compare our characters to their predecessors, which I think Jeremy in particular would hate, but they all fill very different roles. That said, Tom is still decisive and funny and refuses to let Jeremy panic, which is very Van Helsing of him. The writing here is so nuanced, and the way these characters developed works so well. Can’t wait to figure out what the heck is up with Jeremy.

🪐 This episode of @iriscasefiles has it all. Gangsters. Linguistics. Violence in the face of unspeakable injustice. Soup. I am constantly impressed with Brian as a character—something about how “nice” doesn’t mean “helpless” is really delicious in the context of this particular anticapitalist setting. And it’s encouraging. You can always do something to fight injustice. Even if you’re just a waiter.

☀️ I don’t have much analysis about @thetowerarray’s finale of Calling All Adventurers, except to say I just love this show. The narrator’s first real adventure has come to an end and asked more questions than he started with. The slow burn mystery and eventual victory (but at a cost) was so skillfully crafted. I am very much looking forward to season two. And in the meantime, listen to the show! It’s wonderful.

🩸 There is a risk when crafting a dark fantasy like @last-dance-audio-drama to deal death willy-nilly. For shock value, for "realism," for the sake of keeping the tone. You all know the type of story. Last Dance isn't that type of dark fantasy. I'm caught up now, and 3+ devastating character deaths in and two episodes left to go, I feel like every single death has been earned. None is taken lightly or treated with scorn. Not a one has a background haze of a writer being like haha, gotcha! And each one hits like a truck. I am worried about what's about to happen to these characters, but I trust the story. Not for a happy ending--I think that's a little too optimistic--but for a good ending.

♾️ I'm like, years too late to The Big Loop, but I'm here now and WOW. The Big Loop started in 2017, a project of audio drama OG Paul Bae, and although it's an anthology, I would say all the stories fall into slipstream fiction. The setup is realistic, everything seems pretty normal, and then...things get weird. I'm only so far in, but every single episode has been a new and fantastic little gem. My favorite so far has been "All God's Children," which is very hard to explain without ruining the several twists. If you want to understand where audio drama as a medium came from and hear some absolutely killer writing and acting, please check it out.

That's it for me! I hope my fellow Americans have an Independence Day that is full of resistance and doing what you can, and I hope everyone else has a lovely week where you don't have to hear about what we're up to for once. See you next Sunday!

[themonkey2025]

i love being an older sister and indoctrinating my younger sister with all my interests and maybe this is evil of me to say but at this point i just need something to call my own

[iamthedukeofurl]

Discworld is an interesting beast in the age of ACAB. Like, the city watch books are a story about police and the way in which a good police force can help and protect people. Which would make it copoganda. And I'm not going to say that the City Watch books are completely free of copoganda, but they also do something interesting that fairly few stories about heroic police officers do, and I think it has a lot to do with Samuel Vimes. A lot of copoganda stories like, say, Brooklyn 99, are perfectly capable of portraying cops as cruel, bigoted, and greedy, but our central cast of characters are portrayed as good people who want to help their communities. The result is that the bad cops are portrayed as an aberration, while most cops can be assumed to be good people doing a tough job because they want to help protect people from the nebulous evil forces of "Crime". The police are considered to be naturally heroic. Pratchett does something very interesting, which is provide us with Vimes' perspective, and present us with an Unnaturally heroic police force. In Ahnk-Morpork, the natural state of the watch is a gang with extra paperwork. It's the place for people who, at best, just want a steady paycheck and at worst want an excuse to hit people with a truncheon. Rather than be an army defending people from the forces of Crime, the Watch is described as a sort of sleight-of-hand, big burly watchmen in shiny uniforms don't stand around in-case a Crime happens in their vicinity, they stand around to remind people that The Law exists and has teeth. The Watchmen are people, when danger rears it's head, their instinct is to hide and get out of the way. When faced with authority, their instinct is to bow to it out of fear of what it might do to them if they don't. Carrot is a genuine Hero, but his natural heroism is presented as an aberration. Normal Cops don't act like Carrot does. The fact that the Watch ends up acting like a Heroic Police Force is largely due to the leadership of Sam Vimes, but Vimes himself is a microcosm of the Watch. The base state of Sam Vimes would be an alchoholic bully of an officer, one who beats people until they confess to anything because that makes his job easier. Vimes The Hero is a homunculous, an artificial being created by Sam Vimes fighting back all those instincts and FORCING himself to behave as his conscience dictates. Vimes doesn't take bribes or let his officers do the same because, damnit, that sort of thing shouldn't happen, even if doing so would make things a lot easier. Vimes doesn't run towards sounds of screaming because he WANTS to, he forces himself to do so because somebody needs to. It's best summed up in Thud “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Your Grace.” “I know that one,” said Vimes. “Who watches the watchmen? Me, Mr. Pessimal.” “Ah, but who watches you, Your Grace?” said the inspector with a brief little smile. “I do that, too. All the time,” said Vimes. “Believe me.”

In the hands of another writer, or another series, this exchange would be weirdly dismissive. To whom should the police be accountable to? Themselves, shut up and trust us. But from Vimes, it's a different story. Vimes DOES constantly watch himself, and he doesn't trust that bastard, he's known him his entire life. The Heroic Police are not a natural state, they're an ideal, and ahnk-morpork only gets anywhere close. Vimes is constantly struggling against his own instincts to take shortcuts, to let things slide, but he forces himself to live up to that ideal and the Watch follows his example. Discworld doesn't propose any solutions to the problems with policing in the real world. We don't have a Sam Vimes to run the NYPD and force them to behave. We don't have a Carrot Ironfounderson. But it's at least a story about detectives and police that I can read without feeling like I'm being sold propaganda about the Thin Blue Line.

[bluegiragi]

I don't want to sound rude, you may have already answered this question (if so, I'm sorry, I didn't find that answer), but I'm wondering why you're so against AI bots specificly. Obviously, this is a personal matter for everyone, but I'm a little confused by such harshness. Of course, I'm not going to prove anything to anyone, but I just wanted to understand the roots of your position. I really like your work, but to be honest, your last answers have thrown me into a kind of stupor :(

i have an ideological opposition against AI as a whole to be fair. a lot of it comes down to it's environmental impact

Globally, AI-related infrastructure may soon consume six times more water than Denmark, a country of 6 million, according to one estimate. That is a problem when a quarter of humanity already lacks access to clean water and sanitation.  

but i also believe it's inherently anti-human.

In a time when global literacy rates are diving (did you know that half of american adults read at a 6th grade level or below?) , I think it's incredibly short-sighted to be essentially surrendering your ability to write your own emails/essays/messages to an AI, when doing it yourself, despite what online contrarians will say, does have value (emails teach you how to communicate professionally, messages improve your social skills, essays improve your critical thinking skills). In this political landscape, it also feels dangerous to have your ability to read critically by yourself get dampened by AIs which are, at the end of the day, owned by silicon valley billionaires many of whom attended trump's inauguration, which is a good indication of where they lie politically.

Generative AI when it comes to art is also killing culture, removing opportunities for existing artists who are the ones who can extend the ceiling for human creation and helping society devalue art even more even though it's the only thing keeping us all sane. How would you feel if all you had in your life was just school or work, leaving out music, movies, tv shows, books, art? Doesn't art bring enough value to your life that it's worth properly compensating the people responsible for it? Why should we ever encourage or normalise throwing art into a meat grinder and feeding on the approximated soulless sludge it generates?

For AI chat bots, my beef with it is that it's an inherently anti-social product. All it does is remove the need to ever communicate with another person, which is horrible for people's brains. Some people are "falling in love" with their ai chatbot, some people are using their ai chatbots as therapists. The desire for real human connection is getting lost. An AI chatbot also makes RP obsolete, which is a foundational part of fandom which, i always feel like i need to remind people, is based on community. The point is to connect with people! I just fear that the popularisation and normalisation of this technology is going to end up with people shut in their homes their entire life, lost to whatever toxic pipeline their anti-social behaviour inevitably leads them down.

i know people love to play with AI like it's a fad, and it's "not that deep bro" but i think it's shameful and embarrassing to act as if you don't have agency in your life. You can choose to abstain from technology, you can choose to find entertainment elsewhere, you can choose to be a person independent of technology. If all AI went away tomorrow, would you be able to still do your job? Write a story? Read a book and understand its meaning? AI is a product built on instant gratification and entitlement - not to get too deep on an ask about AI chatbots, but i think art, relationships, culture, all of it is worth the journey to get there.

[simjaexy]

𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing — professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis — you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre — smut, angst

warnings — MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he’d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

[viperify]

AHHHH CONGRATS ON 1k LOVELY MWAHHHH

Running to be ur first ask bc this is all so delicious I'm holding back I fear

House rivals (or enemies to lovers, whatever is easier)

Smut, maybe dabbles of angst

“I know every sound you make. Every spot that makes you shiver. Don’t pretend I don’t still own you.”

"You keep coming back. You don't want closure—you want me to make you feel again."

1k celebration | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Feel Again.

Short Summary: You can’t let him go, can’t forget him. Tom knows and thrives on it.

Warnings: 18+ only! rough sex, manipulative!Tom, toxic!Tom, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, impact play, degradation, praise, creampie, cum play

A/N: ahhh my first fic for my event!!! (This is really long. I can’t write under 1k words, I fear—which will probably become a problem.) Thank you so much for requesting, @juliet-017!!! I hope you enjoy and ilysm!! <3

wordcount: 1,8k

In this fic, you will find HINT NR #1.

You leave Dumbledore’s office with a heavy sigh, fingers clenched tightly around the note he’s given you—and as soon as you’re back in your dorm, you cast Incendio on the paper.

He must really hate you, damn it.

Pairing you for tutoring lessons with Tom Riddle. Slytherin’s know-it-all, prefect, head boy, every professor’s favourite student… Merlin, a shiver runs down your spine at the mere thought of having to spend another two hours with him—especially when it’s Ancient Runes he is going to be helping you with.

You still question to this day why on earth you decided to choose it as an elective. However, back then, when you heard Tom would be doing it—you just couldn’t resist. You thought it’d be easy to beat him, to finally show him he wasn’t as intelligent as he thought. Coming from the Muggle world surely meant he would have a disadvantage, and you’d just study hard the summer before, using the countless ancient books in your home’s library to get familiar with the topics covered in the first year.

Now, it all played out just a little bit differently.

A tiny bit.

Turns out you shouldn’t have underestimated Tom Riddle, because obviously he is a natural at it. Translates and identifies the runes in seconds, shines in participation, sucks up to the teacher—who can’t help but praise him each time gets get something right.

And his eyes would always find yours briefly, smug expression on his face, because he knows. He knows why you chose the same subject as him, he knows what you were trying to achieve.

He just knows you too well, and you hate it. You hate that you let him in back then, letting him make you believe in love—which, naturally, sounds ironic when speaking about someone like Riddle. But it felt so good. So real. You shared your secrets with him, invited him to your house, let him meet your parents. And he was so polite, too—charming smile on his lips, calculated and respectful answers. They loved him.

Until, one day, he stopped seeing you. Out of the blue, he paid no more attention to you. He went as far as to pretend you didn’t exist whenever you tried to speak to him.

You being a Gryffindor didn’t make it any easier either. He spent more time in his common room or dorm, giving him a place you couldn’t access. And your friends—well, they didn’t understand why you dated him in the first place.

It broke you. At first, you wanted to know why. Why he left, why he cut ties as if you never mattered.

But later, you just wanted him again. His warmth, his kisses, his hands on your bare skin, the softness in his eyes he only had when he was with you.

You wanted to hurt his ego by challenging him academically, by ruining his perfect streak of being the best literally everywhere.

And now—Dumbledore ordered you to take tutoring lessons with none other than Tom Riddle himself. In the very subject you thought you had a chance at beating him in.

A long sigh leaves your lips before you step out of your dorm. It’s five minutes until your meeting at the library, and you really wish you had just studied more. The thought of having to speak to him for two whole hours, act like nothing ever happened makes you want to curl up in bed and not get up for the rest of the day.

Tom’s casually leaning against the wall when you round the corner, books pressed tightly to your chest. When you walk up to him, he turns towards you.

His eyes take you in, scanning your body before they meet yours—the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk when he reads your expression.

“Library is too busy,” he says, cold and calculated. “I suggest we go to my dorm instead, as I can’t enter yours.”

You swear when you passed the library just an hour ago, there were barely any people. And even now, most students would be getting ready for dinner. You glance towards the entrance, back at him, and just stare for a second.

Then, you nod, following him into dungeons. To his dorm. You haven’t seen it in what feels like ages. Made bedsheets, very little decoration, tidy bookshelves. Although he’d spend most of his time studying, his entire dorm was spotless. The smell—sandalwood like his perfume. Mattress so much softer than yours. His arms, wrapped around you—

Merlin.

“Are you even paying attention?” He asks, and you are snapped out of your thoughts in an instant. “Clearly you are failing because you can’t concentrate for more than three minutes.”

You huff. “It’s not that. It’s not that, and you know it.”

He looks at you as though you just spoke a foreign language. Eyes cold, expression controlled, but the tension between the both of you is undeniable at this point.

“Do enlighten me.”

Your knuckles turn white at how tight you are gripping your quill.

“You act like nothing happened. Like everything is fine and we don’t know each other—all while I know every single corner of this room, because—“ and you have to swallow to stop your voice from breaking. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Because you showed me. Made me believe you truly felt for me, just to leave and treat me as a nobody. That is why, Tom.”

He just stares at you for a moment. Not in disbelief, because obviously he knows. Lets his eyes linger on yours for just a moment, just to make you feel it. The tension, the want. He isn’t sorry for what happened—never. But he’d hate to admit he did miss you too—in his own twisted way.

"You keep coming back. Nobody forced you to accept the tutoring lessons with me—and yet, you did. You don't want closure—you want me to make you feel again."

His words punch the air from your lungs. Because deep down you know he is right.

“I don’t—“ you start, but then shake your head, stopping yourself from explaining any further. “Forget it.” Instead, you get up, gathering your belongings, and you turn to leave—before his hand wraps around your upper arm, stopping you. You flinch at the contact—even through your robes you could feel his warmth.

”Feisty like a true Gryffindor. Dumbledore would be proud.”

The next moment, he’s got you trapped against the wall, your favourite dark brown eyes slowly transforming into those you knew from back then—fiery, hungry.

His hand wraps around your throat, softly, thumb deliberately tracing along your vein—exactly like he knows you love it. What will make you gasp, lean into his touch. Because you’ve been craving this feeling for way too fucking long.

"I know every sound you make. Every spot that makes you shiver. Don't pretend I don't still own you." His voice is low, barely above a whisper when he says it. And when you open your mouth to complain, tell him off, even though you know he’s right—his lips crash on yours.

You’re left gasping when you part—but he doesn’t even give you time to collect your thoughts. The next second his hand tugs on your robes, pulling them off you without any effort whatsoever—and you do the same to him. Fast and hungry, as though you’ve been starving and he is your last meal.

Fuck it, maybe he is. You don’t care. You just want to feel him again.

Hands stripping you from your clothing faster than you can blink, and soon enough you are left bare on his bed, face pushed into the pillow below you, back arched at an angle it hurts. You don’t care. 

His palm comes down on your ass once, twice, three times—leaving a stinging feeling each time. You love it. You’ve missed this. Missed him like this.

You don’t even care when he pushes inside without wasting another second on foreplay—because you’ve been wet for the entirety of your tutoring session anyway.

Tom doesn’t hold back—his thrusts are merciless and quick. Fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, pulling you back against him as you rock forward with each snap of his hips. You are sure you’ll be bruised by tomorrow, and again—you can’t bring yourself to care.

“That’s a good slut. Still as tight as ever.” He rasps, fingers curling in your hair, pulling your head up as he slams into you. “Missed this pussy— fuck— mine.”

His words make your head spin—and you clench down tightly around him, drawing a groan from his lips. You threaten to drown in the feeling of him stretching you open so perfectly, the feeling of his tip brushing against your cervix with every single thrust.

“Who do you belong to? Say it.” He growls, pulling you up by your hair so your back is flush against his chest. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Say.” Thrust. “It.” Thrust.

You’re lucky you can even make sense of his words at this point—mind hazy with lust and the new angle that has you seeing stars, vision going black at the edges.

“You. I am yours, Tom— fuck— all yours!” You whine, and he pushes you back into the pillow. Firm and rough, making you stay there.

It doesn’t take long before his other hand slips beneath you, finding your swollen clit—rubbing tight circles on the sensitive nub, just how he knows you’ll shatter.

And you do. A moan slips past your lips as you tip over the edge, so loud not even the thick fabric beneath you does a good job muffling it. “Oh God—“ you repeat like a mantra as you shake and convulse, walls clamping down around his cock, so tight he follows your lead seconds later—not even caring to pull out, thick, hot ropes of his release painting your walls white. You don’t care to complain—not right now.

“Good girl. Still taking me so well.” Tom fucks you through it, only pulling out when you whimper in overstimulation. He disappears into the bathroom then, returning two minutes later with a wet towel in his hand.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, and you jolt slightly when you feel his fingers between your folds, gathering his release. “Fucking dripping with me. Can’t let it go to waste, can we?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, you figure—a broken whimper leaving your lips as he pushes his cum back inside of you. 

To your surprise, he allows you to stay that night. Pulls you into his side, even—lets you cuddle into him. You don’t speak much. You don’t have to.

Except for that one time he starts talking.

“Library was empty, by the way.”

“I know.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | 1k celebration. <- event masterlist.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, a minor disagreement that ends up in hurt/comfort. | wc: 1.4k, reading time: ~5 minutes

“I’m coming with you.”

Your remark is firm while you practically chase after Dante who slumps down in the chair behind his desk for the briefest moment, pulling equipment from the drawers of his desk and putting it into his pockets. 

“No, you’re not.”

It irritates you how he won’t even look up, preoccupied with getting out of here. Your jaw slackens, eyes narrowing.

“Why not?”

Now he looks up, his own teeth clenched. 

“Because I’ve said no ten times and meant it every one.” 

He hates fighting with you. In fact, he hates telling you no about anything and you’re all too well aware of it judging by the way you seem to think you can wear his defenses down into a yes right now. 

Disengaging by looking down, he loads a few bullets into his guns which further irritates you. 

There’s no such thing as a truly unexpected job in his line of work. He gets calls at all hours of the day or night sometimes, reporting to wherever he needs to be to take care of business, but you don’t understand why he won’t let you come. It’s midday and he’s clearly playing coy about the threat level of whatever is out there meaning there may be a need for help.

Laughing sarcastically, you stand in place in front of his desk. 

“It amazes me how you are never this serious about a no until it has to do with what I want.”

Whipping his head upward so fast his hair falls out of place against his forehead, the man you love more than any other curls his lip and points all five of his fingers toward you, eyes wide.

“And it amazes me that you’ve never bothered to wonder why I'm so serious about it. How many times have we had this exact conversation?" 

There has never been a time where he’s raised his voice at you and he has no plans of starting now but you are seriously testing his patience. 

You fold your arms across your torso and raise your brows adversarially high. "I wish you’d just admit it’s because you think I'm weak and can't protect myself. Your little liability."

Finally, you push Dante to the point of a frustrated, humorless chuckle punctures the tense air of the room. You flinch in place, averting your eyes from him to other corners of the room that seem a lot easier to look at. Walls don't have eyes that pierce to your very soul the way his are right now, feeling them even if you don't see them.

"Will you please stop thinking the worst about me? I know better than anyone you can take care of yourself." 

He scoffs, another ironic chuckle following it. 

"In fact, this isn’t even about you. Have you ever thought for even a second that I keep you away from my jobs because I don't know what I would do if something happened to you? That nobody does?" 

You look up and he looks directly at you, brows furrowed. 

"Yeah, I've been called out about it before. By Trish and Lady and everyone who has ever seen the way I am when it comes to you." He shakes his head, rising from his seat behind the desk, reaching across it and grabbing your trembling hands. "They’ve all had the same thing to say about how you can't be around because my focus becomes keeping you safe."

He looks away from you, retreating to somewhere distant in his mind. 

"I catch myself thinking about a world without you sometimes and it's dark and heavy and...and I know I couldn't do it if I didn't have you."

"Do what?"

"Any of this.” He waves his hand around the waiting room of Devil May Cry dramatically. “Exist."

"Dante..." 

You click your tongue, chest aching at his words. They’re well meant but even the faintest insinuation of him stumbling into the bad shape he was when you first met makes you feel hollow.

"I mean it, sweetheart. You could come up with a hundred arguments and probably already have but I wish you wouldn't waste your time arguing with me about what the truth is. It’s not that you're weak, it's that I'm weak for you."

Now you feel like a real problem, pouting like a little girl while he airs out the truth. “Stop it.”

“No, you stop. Let me tell you how I feel and maybe, just maybe, actually listen to me for once.”

Pushing your fists against your eyes, you take a deep breath and allow the pressure of your knuckles to keep the levy holding back your tears from breaking. You probably look as pathetic as you feel standing there like this, shoulders slumped inward and breaths coming in staggered pants. 

Merciful man that he is, Dante never lets you suffer for long. 

You hear his footsteps round his desk in the  same pattern you memorized a long time ago, his warm arms coming to cradle you even if you won’t look at him. Your body naturally leans against his chest, fists pressed against his shirt, face hidden. 

“You’ve made me a man, not just someone pretending to be half one.” He unburies your face to kiss the tip of your nose, pulling you against his chest to bury your head beneath his scruffy chin. “And you’re one thing I wanna keep safe forever because of it. Is that so wrong?”

Shaking your head no, you sigh in lighthearted defeat. How can you put up a fight, especially when he is safely nestling his beating heart in your hand? You protect it, he protects you. 

It’s not all that bad of a deal when you really think about it. 

“You’re starting to give me a stomach ache,” you joke, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It’s a little brush of lips against lips, far less searing then how you usually approach. 

Still, it says everything. The pair of you remain locked together - two bodies and one shared soul - refusing to part even to continue the conversation. 

“Sorry for thinking the worst.” 

Your apology is only slightly muffled, mashed between his mouth and yours. He parts his lips to reply but chooses to kiss you instead, tongue dipping between lips he could not successfully exist without. You’ve given his world more than color, you’ve breathed life into every last corner of it. The least he can do is tell you so once in a while. 

Smiling against your lips, he stops for a breath and backs away enough to look down at you. 

“Let me know next time that happens so I can get ahead of it, okay?”  

A lighthearted reminder, sealed with another small kiss. The tension in the room gradually soothes itself, minute by passing minute. The safety of his arms even improves your mood slightly, your fists pressed against the center of his chest rather than over your eyes. 

“Please stay behind and let me come home to you in one piece.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you fight the urge to insist you need to continue fighting for your place in his life. He’s telling you clearly that you’ve earned it. 

“Alright,” you acquiesce, raising yourself up on tippy toes to kiss him again. 

Opening your mouth to continue speaking he shoots you a look, not venomous or dangerous, but serious. He doesn’t wanna argue about this again. 

You lean into him, big eyes staring. “Fine, God, okay. But you need to call me as soon as you’re done because I don’t know what I’d do without you either and cannot think about it so please don’t make me.”

Dante nods, chuckling. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Later on, after you’re less emotional and he’s home safe and sound, you’ll admit he’s right. You’ll mutter against his hair that he’s not merely a good man but the best one for thinking of you the way he does and that you constantly question if you deserve it or not. He’ll whisper to you that nobody has ever deserved it more, rocking you gently until you fall into a fitful sleep and leaving him awake for a little longer. 

Only then will he find himself alone enough to silently thank whatever force brought you, this stubborn, beautiful woman, into his life to save him. He’ll insist to this same force that he’s only making up for lost time by protecting you from danger to begin with. 

It happens every time.

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word count: 4360

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Rader is a little mean to the boys in this chap, but she's just defending herself! everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 -)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hii beautiful people!! I'm finally back with the second chap of this story! It took me longer than the first one, sorry for the delay! hope you enjoy it a lot! You would help me a lot by liking, reblogging and commenting! Without further ado, thank you very much and enjoy!

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... that sound definitely wasn't the rain....

Your senses were sharpened to the maximum again, your hand gripping your weapon tightly and securing it close to your body. Your heart and breathing seemed to be in a race to see which one was faster, but you could be sure that your heart was the winner, as you could literally feel it pounding in your ears. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, nerves and anxiety on edge, you tried to swallow to moisten it, but your attempts were futile. You could feel tears stinging your eyes from the desperation you felt.

"Holy shit..." your voice was barely a whisper as you tried to process what was happening. You tried to calm yourself and sharpen your hearing so you knew how many men you were up against. Your room suddenly seemed suffocating and tiny, you felt the bubbling of a panic attack in your chest, you felt like you were going to die, your mind kept telling you that your minutes were numbered. You started to shake as one shudder after another went through your body like lightning, it was desperate and terrifying. You quietly climbed down from your bed and approached the door of your room on tiptoe. You wanted to listen better, because despite your fear, dying was not an option, not after surviving for so long. Breathing shakily, you leaned your ear against the door of your room, trying to catch a sound. Fuck, you had no idea what to do, fear made your legs shake slightly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the intruders were breathing heavily and panting, a sign that they had been running. Their clothes were soaked from the heavy storm outside, so the floor was filled with small puddles of water and some mud "Fuck, that was close..." one of them said, trying to catch his breath, putting a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart as he leaned against the front door, holding it shut.

How stupid you were. In the midst of crying for your mother, you'd forgotten the most important thing: securing the fucking front door of your house.

"It was all Jake and Ni-ki's fault, we almost got caught by the police!" another voice shouted, pointing at the named ones who looked at him with a mixture of indignation and disbelief, while the first boy who had spoken looked at him with wide eyes, signaling him to shut up.

"Excuse me? no no, no way, it's not our fault, no one forced you to come with us Jay..." another of the voices said with a distinctive accent, his words tinged with contempt "And try not to scream, the police might still be around.." Jay frowned and approached this one with indignant steps "Don't be an idiot Jake, we can't let you go off alone in the middle of the night, you know crime has risen too much in the last few years, there's a reason the government declared a curfew after midnight, fuck..." his voice sounded frustrated as he looked at him seriously. "'You're a grown man, you should have a little more conscience, you both could have been killed..." he said this time with more seriousness and concern, scolding him firmly in a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air.

Definitely none of them wanted to die, let alone go to jail, Jay was right, they couldn't just leave in the middle of the night and put themselves in danger and worry the rest of the group. It was a miracle they had found this house, a few more minutes and the police would have caught them.

"Well, sorry, it was my idea Jay Hyung..." another deeper voice said as he scratched his neck a little embarrassed and looked at the elder "Anyway, we're all fine," he said this time with a little cheeky but guilty smile trying to break the tense moment.

A sigh was heard, followed by another clear voice. "It's okay Ni-ki, make sure you don't do it again please..." he asked firmly but at the same time calmly as he looked at the one named and also at Jake who nodded silently, feeling a little guilty, he had quite a bit of leadership in his voice. Ni-ki nodded, "Okay, Jungwon Hyung..." Ni-ki's deep voice hung in the cold air of the house as Jungwon sighed again.

The house was silent for a few seconds as the boys looked around and surveyed the place, ignoring the fact that they were freezing to death from the water that had fallen on them in the middle of winter. And it had occurred to Ni-ki that it would be fun to leave (escape) from where they lived at three in the morning, Jake saw him trying to leave and joined him on the pretext that he "couldn't let him go alone because it was too dangerous", which brought them all here.

Ni-ki was the youngest of the group, which of course made him the most rebellious, and someone like that always needed an accomplice, which was Jake most of the time, which led to both of them getting into trouble quite often.

"It's a nice house...strange that it's abandoned..." another voice, different from the others, a little softer, broke the silence, praising the architecture of the place, your place. And it was true, it was a huge house, with a modern vintage style. Another of the boys nodded in agreement as he shook his head a little, trying to get the water out of his hair, "Yeah, Sunoo's right...it's pretty nice for being abandoned..." The words hung heavy in the air as the boys looked at each other, seemingly searching for answers, there seemed to be an immediate understanding between them as the named one nodded and the seven began to explore the living room, their steps cautious in the new suspicion that someone already lived in the house. Even though it seemed empty, they had to make sure they were out of danger.

On the second floor, you had managed to identify seven voices from your room, where you were still trying to calm down. So they were being chased by the police for breaking the curfew, tsk...men. Your breathing was still fast, but as you listened to their conversations, you managed to calm down a bit, knowing that because of their actions, it wouldn't be very difficult to deal with them.......

or so you thought

You could hear them walking around your living room and decided that you needed to listen more closely, their voices were a little muffled by the distance. You were about to open your bedroom door slightly, but what sounded like something falling to the floor startled you slightly as your free hand instinctively grabbed the doorknob, as if holding on to it would somehow protect you from them.

"Shit..." cursed the voice of one of the guys whose name you hadn't heard yet, furrowing his brow slightly "Pfff...what an idiot, Heeseung Hyung..." Ni-ki said, letting out a laugh as he sneered at the older one, watching as he crashed into a nearby shelf, causing a ceramic jug to fall and shatter into several pieces on the floor.

Heeseung turned his head to look at Ni-ki with narrowed eyes, "Aish...hey, what a brat...i can't see..." mild annoyance ran through his dramatic voice as he defended himself and pointed at Ni-ki who was still laughing. The other five boys chuckled a little at the amusing situation between the oldest and the youngest of the group. They got along so well, you could hear a certain camaraderie in their voices, as if they had known each other forever "I mean, ....Ni-ki isn't wrong..." the other boy, whose name you didn't know yet, remarked with a slight sideways smile that showed his fangs a little longer than usual, a cute, not-so-usual attraction.

Heeseung looked at him without any amusement on his face, judging him with his eyes. They had this habit of teasing him, not that he really minded, but he was tired, hungry and soaking wet, not in a good mood "Really, Sunghoon, you too?" he shook his head in disapproval as Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders without saying anything else and let out a small chuckle. He was really stressed out too and fuck, the current situation had affected him a lot, he hadn't had pussy in over four fucking years and he fucked so often that he was really going crazy.

Not that he was a pervert (or maybe yes), but he excused himself by saying that "fucking relieved his stress and made him perform better in his daily life"

But he had never experienced falling in love, only one-night stands, just like the other guys. The hope that he could have pussy faded deeper and deeper in the back of his mind, and he resigned himself to settling for his own hand. But he refused to accept that idea, he still had some hope. He didn't just want to fuck, he wanted a woman he could love and who would love him, he wanted to be a good love and he also had a dream of being a father, something that obviously seemed unattainable for Heeseung, in fact it seemed unattainable for the seven men.

They really wanted to fall in love...

In fact, they were all stressed about the lack of pussy.... Even Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were still virgins and had never been able to bury their sad cocks in real pussy, were sexually frustrated. But for Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon and Sunoo, the feeling of being trapped inside a pussy was like nothing else in the world and now they could only remember and even imagine because fuck, four years without sex, it was like being a virgin all over again.

But come on, their hearts needed to be stimulated as much as their cocks.

Jungwon cautiously approached the now non-existent jar on the ground, bowing slightly and examining it, "If someone was here, they would have heard us by now..." he mused with a calm expression. He straightened as he turned to look at the other boys, they were like his family, he had known them for many years and loved them like his brothers.

The only thing that illuminated the living room at the moment was the light from the occasional thunder light that came through the window like a horror movie. It was a huge place, enough for everyone to be comfortable "I think we can either spend the night here or keep the place, after all, the one we had was getting too small for the seven of us..." he looked at them, waiting for a sign of denial, but they all seemed to agree.

It wasn't a bad idea, after all. They were in the middle of the forest, far away from the city, where there was more crime by the way, and the place seemed quite cozy. Besides, if Jungwon said so, it was because it had to be. He always made sure that everyone felt comfortable, even though they often fought like siblings, which was sometimes funny, Jungwon always prioritized everyone's well-being.

"Well, we should look for the bathroom, clothes and blankets, I'm freezing...we could take a bath..." Sunoo spoke for the second time, articulating each of his words with his hands. The boys nodded. A hot shower sounded great after running through the forest in the rain, so much that their legs felt tired.

"Good idea, we should split up, go through the rest of the house and look for the things we need..." fuck no, if they went through the rest of the house they would definitely find you and that couldn't happen, they couldn't find you, so you had no choice but to find them before it was too late.

Sunghoon's voice was full of determination as he explained his idea to the others, who immediately agreed. But before they could take action, you beat them to it for your own good.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you..." Your voice finally echoed through the living room with newfound certainty, causing a sudden hush to fall over the place. Your gun was pressed against the large back of one of the seven boys, who was now undeniably tense, you could tell by the way the muscles in his back were contracting under his clothes. He was tall, blond, and seemed to have well-defined biceps.....

"No, idiot, this is not the time to think about biceps, concentrate" You mentally scolded yourself.

Instinctively, he raised both hands to let you know that he was not going to attack you. His hands were shaking slightly and he was completely stiff as he felt the cold metal of your gun against his back, which, in addition to your distinctly feminine voice, sent shivers down his spine.

From your vantage point, you could see the faces of the other six boys, pale and still as if they had seen a ghost. And no wonder, they must be more confused and shocked than ever. The torrential rain that pounded against the windows and roof was the only thing that filled the deadly silence. It was the first time you had seen people in years, your heart was beating fast in your chest and you couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement...

or perhaps a mixture of both.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of them tried to move forward, his hair was a deep red, but quickly there was an instant click in your head as you pulled the safety off your gun, making him flinch in place, your survival instinct was at its peak "Take another fucking step and I'll blow your friend's head off..." your voice was cold as was the expression on your face, your breathing rapid, matching that of the guys in front of you who seemed more nervous than you.

Your eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and even though you were scared shitless inside, you didn't want to let it show, you didn't want them to notice your weakness. This time you leaned your gun against the back of the blond boy's neck, indicating that you meant business.

Fuck, they couldn't let something go unnoticed, something they thought didn't exist anymore and that they would never see again in their lives, suddenly the reality they lived in took a 180 degree turn when you appeared, you were a woman, fuck, you clearly were, and you stood in front of them and threatened to blow Sunghoon's head off with one shot. It all seemed like a lie, the last four years of their lives began to have an unbearable weight on their backs when they saw you. They began to think they were hallucinating and had to blink several times to process the information. Even so, their throats felt dry and their eyes couldn't take their eyes off you. Sunghoon began to feel impatient, yes, he was scared, but he also wanted to see you, so he gathered all his courage to speak

"M-Miss...we don't want to hurt you..." you idiot, he mentally cursed himself for stuttering slightly and scrunched up his face in an expression that clearly said 'I screwed up', he who never hesitated in front of any woman had just done it with you, which left his ego a little bruised, but he didn't care.

You clenched your jaw as you heard him speak, pressing the gun harder against his head, making him tense up even more, if that was possible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...really, we don't mean any har-..."

Pathetic, he begged pathetically, but a mixture of fear and emotion controlled him at that moment, he couldn't control it.

"Shut up...you talk too much for someone who is being targeted..." your voice was cutting and harsh, making it clear that there was no room for discussion in your words, making Sunghoon shut up immediately as he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

You had to find a way to control the situation, no matter what. You grabbed the boy's soaked shirt from behind and pushed him down, "Get on your knees..." you ordered firmly and he obeyed immediately, kneeling on the ground, you don't have many options when you have a gun pointed at you, making it so that everyone could see you better now. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you couldn't trust them, not yet, "You too, idiots, what are you waiting for?"

Yes, maybe you were too harsh, but you had to guarantee your survival first and foremost.

With the seven men now kneeling on the floor in front of you, you sighed and thought about what to do next. You weren't going to kill them, you weren't that kind of person, even if it gave them a free hand to hurt you, you just weren't that kind of person. But letting them go wasn't an option either, what were you going to do, stay with them? you didn't know them, the most you knew was their names and from the way they looked, they were all around your age.

"Are you really a woman?" the voice of one of them broke through your cloud of thoughts. Oh God, you didn't think they were that stupid, he really just asked you that?

You raised your eyes to look at the boy who had spoken, your brow was clearly furrowed, he had some blue strands in his black hair "Jay, shut up for God's sake," Heeseung spoke softly, clearly scolding him, really, he couldn't believe his friend had asked that. But he didn't blame him, he was just as or even more stunned than Jay by your presence, which made him move slightly in his place, not wanting to alert you, he really couldn't believe his eyes either, actually none of them could.

While you thought intently without saying a word, your gun still rested on Sunghoon's head. You bit your lower lip, trying to think of a quick solution, but damn, this was clearly going to take a long time. A sigh left your lips, you were sleepy, your body was aching and your head was going a mile a second, which made your mental situation difficult as well as putting your thoughts in order. In addition, you couldn't see much because there was no light and everyone's eyes were on you, which inevitably made you a little nervous.

Meanwhile, the boys' minds were no better off than yours, still trying to process that you actually exist and are not a figment of their imagination.

Hell, they even wanted, no, they had to be in Sunghoon's place. Just knowing that you were a woman got them going, but what about your assertive dominance? The way you had brought Sunghoon, who was probably one of the strongest in the group, to his knees with a simple command from your lips was fucking attractive.

The tension in the air was thick, not only because they were threatened at gunpoint, but also because there was an undeniable sexual attraction and tension between you and them. It was impossible to control, something instantaneous that left them with their breath caught in their throats and their cocks already half hardened in their pants, including Sunghoon himself. They didn't want to look like dogs in heat or perverts, they didn't want to scare you and make you think badly of them, but it was something that was simply out of their hands.

The cold they had felt from being soaked earlier vanished at a ridiculous speed and was replaced by warmth. Their faces were slightly flushed and now that they knew you were real, they couldn't help but imagine a lot of situations in their twisted minds, but damn, besides being hard, you were beautiful, a temptation at a glance that made them clench their thighs as their erections went wild.

Sunghoon, who was closest to you, was the most affected, he could even smell your scent, so soft and delicate, the scent of a woman. He stopped himself from inhaling your precious scent with all his might, forgetting that the tip of a gun was pressed against his head.

Jungwon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in your presence, which was quite strong, "Miss, please..don't hurt us... we can just go and..." a dry laugh came out of your throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, cutting off his words, "Sure, I'll let you go so you can shout that you found a woman all over Seoul..." Your words were clearly sarcastic, rejecting his suggestion outright, making Jungwon quickly shake his head in an attempt to contradict you, but your gaze was enough to make him stop trying.

"Then you'll have to let us stay here..." the rational sense of Heeseung had left his head when he dared to say those words with a tone of boldness and obviousness as he looked at you with slightly half-closed eyelids, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It infuriated you, how could he be so arrogant when you could literally kill him at any moment? You looked at him as you let go of Sunghoon and approached him with quickened steps. You grabbed his jaw with one of your hands and roughly lifted his face to look into his eyes while resting your gun on his forehead. Your eyes betrayed your anger, but he seemed too relaxed for his own good, "You better shut the fuck up, because if you don't..." the asshole didn't let you finish as he blatantly interrupted you, "If I don't, what?..." he dared you, not only with his voice, but also with his eyes.

How fucking dare he?

"You're not going to kill us..." he said, his fucking grin getting bigger and bigger, "if you wanted to, we'd all be dead by now from the moment you walked into this room, precious..."

Oh fuck, he couldn't be that fucking arrogant, but he was right, you wouldn't kill them and you hated that he could read you so easily without even knowing you.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to break his ridiculously attractive face, because that was one little detail you hadn't been able to overlook, they were all fucking attractive, but you couldn't afford to think about that when your top priority had to be keeping yourself safe.

You clenched his jaw with your hand, your fingers digging lightly into his skin, causing a small sigh to leave his lips, "You're right, i may not want to kill you...but I'll blow your fucking balls off if you keep spitting shit..." this time he didn't dare interrupt you, instead he seemed to be lost in limbo. His gaze was fixed on your lips as you spoke each word with furious determination....

Fuck, you had fire in you

The formula was simple: danger equals adrenaline, adrenaline equals thrill, and thrill equals arousal. There was no other way to explain why they enjoyed danger so much.

The others were waiting for the scene to unfold in front of them.

So you weren't going to kill them. A relief settled in their chests when they realized that you weren't a bad person, you were just defensive, which was completely normal when seven intruders enter your house in the middle of the night. Jungwon had quickly understood and realized that Heeseung had been the first to notice, that's why he dared to talk to you like that. Now the group was less tense, they trusted their oldest member, they knew that Heeseung wouldn't risk doing something he wasn't completely sure about.

"All right, no need for anyone to get hurt, miss..." Jungwon interrupted what seemed to be a dueling stare between Heeseung and you, his words a little more confident now that Heeseung had taken it upon himself to break through the layer of harsher tension, but still he was being cautious.

Your eyes didn't leave Heeseung's and you didn't take the gun away from his head either, but his words echoed in your head and honestly, you didn't have much of a choice. Curiosity bubbled in your chest, you wondered what to do, you had been alone too long, you remembered nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so scared. Maybe letting them stay was your best option, you knew you were the last woman on earth, you were sure that if you asked them to do something, they would do it without hesitation and maybe they could protect you. Bring you out of your state of loneliness, which seemed to grow with time.

The boys' knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long, but the tense situation in the living room was too tense for any of them to try to make a move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, including you.

A sigh escaped your lips when you realized that you would have no choice but to let them stay here, but if that was going to happen, it would be under your own rules. You didn't want to be alone anymore, which didn't mean that you were going to blindly trust them overnight, because trust was a luxury you could pay dearly for if you decided to put all your cards on the table.

You let go of Heeseung's face and slowly lowered your gun, your gaze, still quite hard, shifting from him to the other guys as you took your time to study their expressions.

"Alright..I'll let you all stay..." you finally declared and your words were an immediate comfort to the seven men in front of you, but before any of them could say anything you continued "But..." you fell silent for a few seconds, letting the anticipation fill the air "if any of you do anything stupid, i swear...

i will kill you..."

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @suhwife @elairah @merwdusa @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonly @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsaika @immelissaaa

[callmearcturus]

tobias

radiation

fox

is working on the new soundtrack to OFF

hang on the interview with them is actually interesting

What did you think about composing some tracks for the new soundtrack? Well, it's a complicated feeling. Let me clarify. Obviously, Fangamer and Mortis wanted to use the original soundtrack. They tried to reach out to the composer, ACC, to get the rights to use it... but ultimately, he felt nervous about signing anything and disappeared. However, he has stated that he doesn't mind that his music isn't being used, and he has no problem with the new soundtrack. So, it's a bit weird, but everything is chill. That being said, OFF is a very atmospheric and memorable game, and the soundtrack contributed a lot to that. It's an integral part of the memories that people have built of this game. Trying to replace those songs feels like breaking into somebody's house and pasting your face into their family photo album. But, Mortis asked me if I was interested, and, given that his game really inspired me, and he's a super nice guy... I decided I would try my best to help. To ensure that new players, even if they didn't get the exact same experience, would get a pretty cool one. I ended up handling a lot of boss tracks. I attempted to match the game's "style" by aiming for idiosyncrasy and atmosphere over everything else. I think the results are pretty cool. I also was assigned... the normal battle theme. I'm gonna be honest, just feels like I got assigned to take a bullet in the back for everybody else. I looked up almost every jazz song from the 1920s, I commissioned Carlos to make an entire fake jazz song for me so I could cut it up into samples, I tried making like 6 entirely different songs, but nothing I could come up with on my own felt quite right. In the end, I summoned Camellia to help me out by re-remixing my first track into multiple versions, and so ultimately I think it will feel pretty cool as you go through the game. (But, I'll be the first to say that I can't replace your memories...) By the way, I did the music for free, and I'll upload my tracks for free after the game comes out. Personally, I don't think the original music is replaceable, so I want to treat what I made like "fanmusic", made just out of love and respect for the original. Alright, see ya.

Love the remark about "assigned to take a bullet" because for fucking real, imagine being a game music composer and being asked to make a new "Pepper Steak"

for people who are not Certified Game Likers, it's like being asked to make a new version of The Fifth Element. nothing you do will replace the original and most likely you were heavily influenced by its existence, so what do you even do?

/slinks off to listen to "Pepper Steak" again

[rosedpetal]

Until Death Do Us Part

Summary: Harvey and you have been on a rocky road lately, but hopefully, you can still find each other.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 932

Warnings: stablished relationship (reader and Harvey are married), mentions of body image struggles, hints at +18 themes.

Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not." Your husband frowned when you came out from the closet wearing your 'costume'.

A huff of annoyance leaves your lips.

"What the fuck is wrong now? Did I gain weight and suddenly you can't get up or something?" Venom drips from your sarcastic remark and Harvey rubs his temples.

"Why are you like this? Jesus Christ, Y/N, it's not about some shit like that, stop trying to make me a bad guy at every given chance!" He snaps. "It's just your stupid wings, okay? You look like you came straight from a Barbie movie, when you said you'd like to roleplay being a fairy, I thought you'd use one of those Lord of the Rings-"

"Those are elves. Not fairies. They don't have wings!" You seethe, taking your plastic wings off and accidentally pressing the light button on them, turning the pink leds on, and Harvey's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry if my knowledge in a fictional world lore is lacking, it's because I actually have a real job."

That was cruel and uncalled for and he knew it. Harvey had a bad habit of saying the most callous things without even thinking. It didn't help that he hated the idea of roleplaying from the very beginning.

"How could I forget, it's the only thing you care about!" You raise your voice, and it breaks in the end. "Tonight was supposed to be fun!"

Harvey immediately regrets the jab he made at your wings. Well, it's not that he couldn't get himself to be motivated by you while you were wearing them... It's just that it was fucking weird because he was a grown man and he was pretty sure his kid niece wore the same pink fairy wings every Halloween.

And he could explain that to you, but you just had to make a self deprecating comment about your body and imply that he wasn't man enough to look past his partner putting on some weight.

Which was another ridiculous thing, because, seriously? He couldn't care less if you were a size 2 or 20. It didn't matter. He married you because he loved you, inside and out, and you weren't an airhead that couldn't carry on a conversation with him. He respected you. He was interested in what you had to say (most of the time, at least).

But for months now, you two have been fighting nonstop, and more than often saying some hurtful shit to each other and no longer searching for the comfort of each other's arms in the middle of the night.

He wondered if your sudden self consciousness regarding your body was because you've been stress-eating ever since the chasm between you two was created.

Harvey was selfish, harsh, arrogant and snappy, but he wasn't insensitive to how women sometimes had insecurities that ate them alive.

He sighed, following you in the closet, his chest tightening at the sigh of your angry tears while you put on sweatpants and a top (the sleepwear you wore on nights you made sure no intimacy was gonna happen).

He even agreed on going to therapy with you, which he thought was an admission of defeat, that you two weren't mature enough to solve your problems on your own.

"Honey." He called, his voice soft with regret.

He hates the 'homework' your therapist gives you every week. A dinner date, a little getaway, a road trip, sitting down and talking for an hour. He feels like his own relationship is being scripted and that you can't find common ground anymore.

"What?" You wipe your tears, unable to look at him in the eyes.

"We don't roleplay." He said in a teasing tone. "Why would I want you to pretend to be someone else when you already exist?"

He gently holds your face in both hands, wiping the remaining tears with his thumbs.

"I'm an idiot. I promise my reaction has nothing to do with whatever's been making you feel vulnerable right now. Seriously. The wings just reminded me of halloween, and halloween reminded me of children going trick-or-treating and you don't want your husband to be thinking of children in the bedroom, do you?"

You grimaced. "God, no."

"Glad we're on the same page, babe." He gently pressed his forehead against yours. "Dance with me."

"There's no music." You sniffled.

"We have a nice record player in the living room. Come on, baby."

Gently, he guided you out from the room, his fingers intertwined in yours as he put on some sappy jazz music. He sways barefoot with you on his arms, your head on his chest, and it takes you back to simpler times.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He's the first to speak, and you appreciate the sentiment, because you know how hard it is for him to apologize, specially when he's the first one to bend the knee to make peace.

"We'll get through this." You mumble, and he kisses the top of your head, and suddenly the golden ring on your finger feels lighter.

"I love you more than anything in the world, darling. Please, don't doubt that. I need you to remember that every single day, specially when I'm at my worst."

"I love you too, Harvey."

He knows there's a long way to go, but the little progress you made tonight makes his heart feel more at ease, as long as you're both on the same side, because he knew with every fiber of his being that he meant it when he said 'until death do us part'.

[copperbadge]

It is wild to me, not in the "I don't believe it" sense but in the "what must that be like" sense, that one of the biggest issues facing neurodivergent people (and people with trauma) in emotional regulation is naming your emotions and feeling them.

Like, this is a genuine issue, this isn't a metaphor or some kind of weird fakery, to the point where almost every psychological practice everywhere is like "Well the first step in managing your emotions is knowing what they are" and they give you like, "feel wheels" and emotions lists and stuff. We spent an hour solid on this idea in DBT class and I was genuinely baffled. I thought I must be missing a step, because I am always extremely aware of what I'm feeling for every excruciating second that I'm feeling it.

Like, surely there must be more than just saying "I feel [name of emotion]", I must be interpreting that instruction wrong. But nope, lots of people just have problems naming what they're feeling. And I get it! Lots of my friends have this issue, it is real!

But not one of mine. Which I guess makes me an outlier (again).

It's starting to become an issue in that there's no branch around it. Every guidebook to emotional regulation eventually cycles back around to "Name your emotion, allow yourself to feel it, connect with it in your body, and if none of that works, your therapist can help" but that last bit is like an offsides rule, everyone knows it exists but nobody knows how it works. And there's just...nothing else out there, when those don't work so you sidestep around them you're just in a field of static. There is only one real recipe for processing your emotions and if your souffle comes out flat you're just kinda fucked, I guess.

Disheartening. I can see why so many people self-medicate.

[cloverapple]

Do you have any advice for someone who can't concentrate on their thoughts for the life of them? I'm a maladaptive daydreamer and have dabbled in shifting, but I always find myself thinking about some random thing (or falling asleep. Usually both). Even when I focus on the feeling of being there, I get distracted 😭

I really like your blog!!

First of all, I suuuuper reccomend this guided meditation by Alunir. It’s the solution to the problem you just described, trust me.

My take on this as a maladaptive daydreamer myself:

My dear, I think your daydreaming is the way you concentrate on your thoughts! Don't get me wrong, maladaptive daydreaming can be harmful when it interferes with daily life, but in the context of focus, have you ever considered that this might be your mind’s way of saying “Hey! This is how we concentrate easily!”

There’s no single “right” way to focus. When people talk about concentration, they often imagine a clear, still mind, deep breathing, and allowing thoughts to pass without attachment. And yes, that is one way to focus, but it’s not the only way. Everyone’s brain works differently.

For example, I have ADHD, and I process information better when I’m listening to something while doing another task—washing dishes, drawing, anything that keeps my hands busy. That’s also what triggers my maladaptive daydreaming; the second music hits my ears and I’m occupied, I’m gone. Fully immersed in another world.

And here’s the thing—daydreaming is a state of awareness. Just like being awake, asleep, or in the hypnagogic state, daydreaming exists on that spectrum. If you're prone to it, slipping into that awareness is effortless, which is why it can feel disruptive to real life. But when it comes to focusing on your thoughts, you can use this as a tool rather than fighting it. This makes visualization, shifting, and other mental techniques so much easier.

So what triggers your daydreaming? If music does it, try lying down with a playlist that reminds you of your desired reality and let the scenarios play out. That’s just as valid as any shifting method. The difference between daydreaming without meaning to and daydreaming to shift is intention.

If you spend time lost in a scenario and then think “Damn, I just wasted all that time when I could have been shifting,” you weren’t setting the right intention. But if you go in thinking “Alright, let me do my shifting method” and let yourself naturally fall into daydreaming—then trust that your mind knows how to shift—you’ve already increased your chances of success exponentially.

And you don’t have to be in bed to do this. You can move around, do it throughout the day, so long as the intention and self-trust are there, your subconscious will recognize it and follow through.

Always strive to improve for the sake of your mental health, but never be afraid to work with your mind instead of fighting against it.

I hope this helps in some way ♡

[finnglas]

So I can't remember if I voted in the 2016 election.

I voted in the primaries, I remember that. For Bernie actually. I didn't like Hillary; I fell for the decades of smear campaigns. The right wing has been shining a spotlight on any real, perceived, or straight up fabricated less than savory detail about her since she was a political advocate in college in Arkansas who insisted on wearing pants when pants were not "professional" for women. And I, old enough to know better, fell for it.

2015 and 2016 were two of the hardest personal years of my life. I had lost my job, my cats had been super sick, we'd spent tens of thousands of dollars trying to pinpoint a mysterious health problem my partner was having, my mom had to have surgery on a crushed vertebrae -- there was a lot. I was exhausted, I wasn't excited by the Democratic candidate, and the polls all said Hillary had it in the bag. I meant to vote. I thought about it. But to this day, I don't know if I actually did. I have a sneaking suspicion that I didn't, that I ran out of time because I kept putting it off. My memory has trauma shaped holes in it, though, and I don't know for sure.

I do remember the gut punch of the election results though. I remember the breath stealing feeling of panic. I remember writing electors and asking them not to certify. I remember donating to Jill fucking Stein who said she was going to sue over the scandal with the voting machines.

(She did not; she kept that money for herself like the grifter she is.)

Most of all I remember crying for the entire month of January, because I knew what a Trump presidency meant. I watched as multiple queer and trans friends contemplated - and in some cases, carried through - plans for suicide because they were so terrified for what would happen to them under that government. (Note: I understand the impulse, but please do not do their job for them if you can help it. They don't deserve that and neither do you.) The trauma of several online contacts not existing anymore because they took what they saw as an emergency exit.

And I don't remember if I voted. I am haunted by the suspicion that I and others like me simply were not excited about the candidate we had, and had other concerns that took precedence. We relied on everyone else showing up in our place. Friends, there is no one else to show up in your place. You are the only person who can cast your vote.

If I could go back to 2016 now, I would drag my ass off the couch and go stand in line for however long it took, because not voting means I was complicit. It means I did not stand in the way of the damage I saw coming. I did not take what action was available to me to prevent or reduce harm.

I will never do that again. And honestly? You shouldn't either. There is no scenario in which handing over our basic safety without even the bare minimum of resistance is the moral high ground. It is just regret waiting to happen.

I know what I'm talking about on this one, ok?

Thanks for listening.

[cheeseceli]

We cry together

Pairing: Idol Hyunjin × non Idol Gn!Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, drabble

Request: Can I request reader who’s an en empath and when she senses that hyunjin has been sad lately she starts crying and then that makes hyunjin cry too and finally open up to her about what’s wrong😭🩷

Warnings: none I can think of

A/n: I think you requested this like last year💀 I'm sorry for taking so long but hopefully you'll like it!

Hyunjin hasn't been himself lately, and you knew that better than anyone else.

His eyes were darker than usual, like he was feeling tired all the time. He'd barely joke around anymore or do his dramatic antics. You knew he wasn't being his normal self, however you didn't know why.

"I'm fine, don't worry" was his usual response to any approach you'd have. Just like now. A whole week had passed and he still was walking around like a zombie - a zombie who'd always fake a smile to try to make you feel a little bit relieved.

You didn't know what else to do. You tried to talk just to hear lies about how he was feeling alright. You tried to comfort him just to realise that he was wearing a barrier around him. You tried to be there for him just to realise that he himself wasn't there, nor anywhere. He was so inside his mind that the real world was inexistent to him.

With this dilemma inside your mind, the whole day had already passed and it was time to bid goodbye. He didn't look at you though, and his "goodnight" was such a whisper that you doubt he meant to say that at all.

Now that's a funny thing about loving someone. You don't only have feelings for them, you have their feelings. If they are happy you're gonna share their smiles. If they are angry you're gonna share their screams. And if they are sad, even if you don't exactly know the reason, you're bound to share their tears.

So when you hug Hyunjin as a farewell, you can't help but cry. You didn't mean to, but the more you cried the more helpless you felt and just tried to find comfort in your lover by hugging him tighter, hoping that you wouldn't disturb him. However, your sobs made Hyunjin come back to earth and back to you.

"Love?" he asked with a soft voice "are you crying?"

You didn't reply at first. Oh, how embarrassing it was to cry like that for no apparent reason. But Hyunjin took your face in his hands and looked at you with the kindest eyes to ever exist. It was the first time in the whole week that he looked at you properly. You didn't realise how much you missed it.

"What happened?"

"I should be the one asking this, Hyunjin. You've been weird for God knows how long and you refuse to tell me what's wrong."

A mixture of confusion and guilt showed up in his eyes before he dried your face with his thumb "You're crying because of me?"

You smiled. Not because you found it funny, but because you couldn't believe the situation itself.

"I just... I just want you to know that you can trust me. I'm here. For whatever you may need or want. Even if I can't solve the problem, I hope that at least we can cry together."

Hyunjin hugged you closer before you could see his tears forming. It was kinda contradicting, really. But for Hyunjin, the way you were already crying together ended up solving the problem in his head, at least for enough time for him to breathe again.

"Do you think I could sleep here tonight?" His voice was a little bit muffled, his face in the crook of your neck, but his words resonated in your skin. You felt he was little to little coming back to life.

"Of course. Why's that?"

"I wanna trust you tonight. I'll tell you everything. Just let me be here with you, please."

"Always."

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @enchanthings

[chosaraki]

In The Dark, She Shines.

—————————————————————————

Shintaro Yamazaki x R.femele. ( Blind daughter )

—————————————————————————

OC : Hana Yamazaki

—————————————————————————

Let's imagine this alternative reality where he survived the events of the clan, moved away from violence, but carries the past as a scar... and now he is the father of a blind, independent, intelligent daughter with a strong temperament like his.

—————————————————————————

.

.

Rural Japan. A traditional house, surrounded by bamboo bards. The Yamazaki clan no longer exists. Shintaro lives in seclusion, far from the world that almost destroyed him. Next to him, a 14-year-old girl - his daughter, Hana Yamazaki.

Shintaro watched from the porch while Hana trained alone in the garden. Her eyes - white, opaque - did not prevent her from moving accurately. The adapted cane hit the ground with almost martial rhythm. She heard everything. I felt everything.

- "You're putting a lot of weight on your right leg when you turn," he said, with the calmness of someone who was once a warrior.

- "I know," Hana replied without stopping the movement. - "But I'd rather feel this mistake than hear it."

She was just like him. Rude in words, sharp in reasoning, but with something he never had: courage to be fragile and still keep fighting.

- "You don't need to train all the time," he murmured.

- "And you don't need to hide from the world, but you're sitting there, right?" - she replied without hesitation, the dry tone.

Shintaro sighed. That girl was the only person who could challenge him without fear. The only one who talked to him as if he wasn't a fallen legend... just a father. A man.

Later, he would help her prepare tea, even though she refused to let him cut the ginger. "I'm blind, dad. Not useless." - she always said.

And he smiled. A small, discreet smile... but real.

Because even with all the shadows of his past, Shintaro knew: she was his redemption. Not because he is fragile, but because he is stronger than he has ever been - without sacrificing herself.

———————————

The morning breeze whispered among the bamboos around the property. The old Yamazaki house was now silent, away from the world, with the weight of a past that no one else dared to mention. The clan was dead. And Shintaro Yamazaki, the one who was once feared for his inflexible ideals, now lived days of contemplation - and silent observation.

In the inner garden, Hana Yamazaki, her 14-year-old daughter, trained alone. Her eyes were milky, expressionless - blind from birth. But she moved with a dexterity that defied the darkness itself. Every step, every rotation, every arm lock with the adapted stick... it was precise, studied.

Shintaro watched in silence. He didn't interrupt her. Not out of respect - but for something more primal: she didn't accept being treated as fragile. And he... admired that. Seeing in her the reflection of everything that was - and what never managed to be.

- "If you're going to watch, at least let me know before you stand there like a ghost," - she said, with a slight squeal, without stopping her movements.

He arched an eyebrow, discreetly.

- "If I can get closer without you noticing, then there are still blind spots, Hana."

She snorted. - "Everyone has blind spots, dad. The problem is that you still think you don't have it."

That touched the bottom. But he didn't react.

Shintaro was a man of silence, discipline and scars. He had killed. He had lost. And he had decided that he would never do to his daughter again what he did to the world. Not even when she provoked him. Not even when it hurt.

Later, she walked around the house with firm steps. He touched the walls with his fingers. I knew where each step was, where each imperfection of the wood warned that a loose nail lived there. Darkness was her habitat - not a prison.

In the kitchen, she chopped ginger and vegetables, listening to the light pop of the wood under his feet.

- "You don't need to cut, I can do it," he said, calm.

She stopped, without turning her face. - "You always try to do everything for me. You think it's care, but it's guilt. I don't need your fault, dad. I need you to trust that I can handle it."

Shintaro stood still for a few seconds. Then I just said:

- "You talk like your mother."

- "Were she strong?"

- "More than me. That's why he died before."

Silence fell between them. Not for discomfort. But by weight. Hana didn't ask questions in vain. And Shintaro didn't offer answers without wounds.

Later, at dusk, she appeared in the training dojo with one of the wooden sabers he kept as relics. Her arm was firm. The expression was tense.

- "Teat me for real."

— “You don't need—”

- "You trained me to defend myself. Now train me to attack."

He looked at her for long seconds. And then he got up, took the other saber and walked to the center of the dojo. Finally, he replied:

- "If I train you to attack, you'll learn where to hit to break someone. And if you do that... there will be no turning back."

- "Then teach me how to break what needs to be broken. I don't want to be just your legacy. I want to be your opposite. I want to be... free."

He nodded with a single movement of his head. And for the first time, Shintaro felt fear. Not for the daughter... but for everything the world could still do with her. Because she couldn't see people's eyes. But I saw the soul. And the world is cruel to those who see too much.

—————————————————————————

The Future, with Hana now an adult, married and mother of twins who love her grandfather. Shintaro, now aged, lives in seclusion, but life finds ways to touch even the most hardened hearts. This part of the story brings sweetness, redemption and a kind of silent but deep love.

—————————————————————————

The years had passed. The bamboo house was no longer as quiet as before.

Shintaro Yamazaki, now with gray hair stuck in a simple bun, moved more slowly. But his eyes were still alive, and his presence - even quieter - still carried that serene intensity of someone who was once a shadow over the world.

Sitting on the balcony, he heard the small steps of two children running through the garden.

- "Grandpa! Look, look! I managed to do the spin that mom taught me!" - said an excited little voice.

It was Ren, one of the grandchildren. His twin brother, Souta, was right behind, laughing with messy hair and crooked children's kimono.

Shintaro looked up and let out a small smile. One of those rare ones.

- "You missed the center of gravity. It will fall if it repeats itself."

- "Then show me!" - shouted Souta, already pulling his grandfather by the hand with the strength of a child, without any fear of the legend he was.

Shintaro allowed himself to get up, even with his knee complaining. And with a patience that the old warrior never imagined he would have, he reproduced the movement for the boys, guiding them with firm but delicate touches.

Hana watched from the doorside, her arms crossed, her smile contained. She was now a woman made - strong, elegant, with the same frankness in the blind look of when she was a girl. Her husband was waiting for her further on, carrying a basket with groceries for her father. But Hana wasn't in a hurry. She liked to see her father like that.

- "You're a soft old man, you know?" - she said, approaching slowly.

- "They don't have their thorns," he replied. "There's still time to ruin both of them."

She laughed.

- "I Doubt It. They love you. Ren even said he wants to be like Grandpa Samurai."

Shintaro arched an eyebrow, pretending not to like it.

- "A samurai who cut everything he loved?"

- "A samurai who survived. And who continues to teach. That's worth more."

She sat next to him. The twins played with bamboo branches, turning them into swords and shouting "Yamazaki!" As if it were a battle cry and a joke at the same time.

- "I was afraid you would die alone," Hana said, with raw sincerity. "But I think... they saved you."

Shintaro was silent for long seconds. So, he replied:

- "It was you who saved me. They only remind me of that."

She didn't say anything. He just put his hand on his knee.

And for a brief moment, on that old balcony, the past, present and future coexisted in silence - in the sound of the wind in the bamboos, in the children's laughter, and in the blind look he saw more than anyone else.

There, in that house marked by blood and redemption, old Yamazaki found the only victory that really mattered: to be remembered... with love.

—————————————————————————

[ghostinthegallery]

This scene wouldn't leave my head, so congrats it's the world's problem now.

In which Ratchet has a graveside chat with Wing, aka the dead guy that fixed his husband for him.

“I want to be very clear.” Ratchet placed the small cup full of engex at the base of the stone plinth. “I don't believe in ghosts or spirits or any of that nonsense. When we die, we die. That’s it. No Primus or Guiding Hand or cushy afterlife and definitely no looking out for the living. Got it?”

The grave did not respond, which was good. It was what Ratchet expected. He sat down, legs crossed, careful not to crush any of the shimmering blue flowers beneath him. 

“I'm just on the fragging necroworld, and I'm not above respecting the local customs.”

Sunlight warmed his back plating as he settled into place. It was a nice day. Most days on the necroworld were nice, when nobody was trying to kill them. Not a place Ratchet would want to stay long term, but it made for a decent rest stop. Even with all the reminders of how fragile life was. The death flowers and the graves.

Carved into this grave was simply the name Wing.

“He really wanted to find you, when he found out what this place was.” Ratchet said. “Drift, I mean. Or Deadlock, you might've called him that. Got all excited at the idea of visiting. You’re one of the only things in his past he'll talk much about.”

He stared at the engex he'd offered, then pulled a flask out of his subspace. No sense making the ghost—who did not exist—drink alone.

“Since he probably never mentioned me, I'm Ratchet. Medic. Drift's conjunx, but that’s a recent development.”

Had he seriously just introduced himself to a rock? Maybe he'd gotten knocked in the helm and forgotten about it and this was all processor damage. Still, it felt right to speak, so he did. Not like anyone else was around.

“I saved his life once, a long time ago. He stood out to me. To this day, I don't understand why, but maybe you saw it too. Maybe you saw something in him that made you want to help. Sounds like you did a lot for him. Probably more than me, if we're being honest. I got him back on his feet, but after that…” Ratchet sighed. “He was still poor as scrap. He still watched enforcers shoot his friend. He was still angry.”

The image of Drift walking away from the clinic, off to sell his frame to anyone who wanted to use it made Ratchet's tank feel sour. It worsened when he thought about what was actually going on at those clinics. He wondered what he would have done if he'd known.  

“It sounds like I have you to blame for all Drift's spectralist nonsense. So frag you for that. It's annoying as hell,” he continued, eager to change the subject. “Yeah, it helped him sort through things. Even I can admit that. When he's not using religion to hide from his problems, it…it gives him some comfort. Still killed a lot of good bots, but hey, he’s in good company.”

Ratchet had no desire to hunt down Drift’s statue and see how many of the necrobot’s death flowers surrounded it. Or how many surrounded his own statue, for that matter. 

“War’s over, and we’ve all got to move on somehow. Frankly, he’s doing better than most. Brave, resourceful, too self-sacrificing for his own good. You fixed him up nice.” Ratchet studied his flask. “And I get all the benefits. Doesn’t seem fair but, thanks. I guess.”

He sighed and adjusted his position. “He feels real guilty about what happened to you. Thinks you'd still be alive if you hadn't helped him. Maybe he's right. Who knows? But you don't sound like the kind of person that would regret helping someone. You sound better than that.”

Heaviness settled over Ratchet's shoulders as he said, “I don't regret saving him either. I never have, even when Deadlock was a name autobots whispered in the same tone as necrobot. And considering how things turned out,” he chuckled. “I don’t know if that makes me a hypocrite. I’m happier with him. Less tired. He just feels right.” Ratchet added, “Probably don’t have to explain that to you.”

The strangeness of this one-sided conversation hit him again, but not harshly. It was an easy way to unload his thoughts. Like a waking defrag. 

“The swords were a nice touch.” A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Drift looked good wielding those blades of his. Ratchet didn't mind the view when he trained. Didn't mind it in the slightest.

“He still carries your greatsword. Doesn't use it much, but it's always on his back.” Ratchet took another pull from his flask. “Been hearing some of the other bots say he should fight a duel with Cyclonus and his big greatsword which even I think is a bit sacrilegious, but—”

“There you are.”

Ratchet started then turned towards the familiar voice. Drift, footsteps annoyingly silent, approached from behind. His expression morphed from inquisitive to shocked when he got close enough to read the stone’s inscription.

“You found him,” Drift said softly.

Ratchet nodded and moved aside so Drift could kneel. Drift’s EM field was wild with conflicting emotions. Surprise, happiness, and grief mingled together, and he made no attempt to hide them. 

“I was about to come get you,” Ratchet said, which was technically true. He fully intended to bring Drift to his friend’s grave. After he was done with whatever this was.

Drift’s optics settled on the cup of engex. He smirked.

“Is that an offering?” He gasped with exaggerated shock. “A committed skeptic, bringing a gift to a ghost? Ratchet, is that you or some sort of mimic?”

Ratchet grabbed the finger Drift poked against his chest. “I didn’t want to get slag from you for being disrespectful.” 

His spark jumped as Drift pressed his hand into Ratchet’s and intertwined their fingers. Then, to Ratchet’s shock, Drift swiped the engex cup and downed it in one gulp.

“What was that?” he demanded, surprised at his own offense.

“Wing never drank engex,” Drift said. “He always gave it to me whenever mechs brought him anything. The Crystal City stuff was so diluted I couldn’t even get a buzz, but it took the edge off.”

“Ah.” Ratchet nodded. “Guess you two had an understanding.”

Drift nodded and let his frame lean into Ratchet’s. Silence settled over them. Ratchet ran his thumb over the back of Drift's hand while the latter grew contemplative. His face fell, melancholy overtaking his field. 

“I wish you two could have met,” Drift said. “He would have liked you.”

“I doubt that.” Ratchet replied. “But I’d have liked to meet him anyway.”

A breeze caught the flowers, like ripples over water. Ratchet didn’t interrupt when Drift shut off his optics and took a meditative intake. They stayed like that for a long time, hand in hand, while Drift steadied his field and Ratchet watched and took the occasional sip from his flask. He’d learned to savor quiet moments like this. They didn’t come often.

Drift’s optics brightened and he said, “Is there anyone here you want to see?”

Ratchet waved his free hand. “I get enough trouble dealing with the living. Don't need to invite the dead to cause problems too.”

“So you won’t come and visit Gasket with me?” Drift pouted.

Ratchet groaned. “I didn’t say that.”

With a smile that made Ratchet's internals melt, Drift helped him up. He then paused and offered a spectralist sign to Wing’s grave. 

“Farewell,” he said. “And thank you for everything.”

As Drift pulled Ratchet away, Ratchet dipped his chin towards the plinth and muttered his own nearly silent,

“Thanks.”