#<- unrelated to this i just like oversharing <3

[martyrbat]

wasnt going to put it in the tags of that person's post but i fully believe clark kent will have the angriest hatefuck of his life with santa claus btw

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Hey, wanted to say I am in love with your work. Really fantastic! May I ask: Do you have any pieces of advice for inspiring CoG writers or Interactive Fiction writers? Thank you and can't wait for more.

Im absolutely welcome these types of asks as they help remind me of what ive learned myself. Im going to try and say what i think every aspiring writer should hear to help them start out. Here we go: 1) Ensure you know what how much youre writing from the very beginning and plan accordingly. If it is a smaller story, do not be super ambitious, use it as a starter game to learn the basics of choicescript and learn the social media aspect of producing a title. If it is a large story, say over 800k words long, then you NEED to have an outline for each arc to help you know A to B for the story beats. Make outlines upon outlines and you will be doing yourself a favor. ESPECIALLY when coding. 2) THIS ISNT LIKE WRITING TRADITIONAL NOVELS. Know that Interactive Fiction is frustrating to write. You can write 3k words for a choice group, and players will only see 500 words or less worth of content for that choice group. Do not feel disheartened, for it is what it is. Just know youre doing a good job providing content and playable interaction with choices! Just be aware and mindful of not injecting bad or useless content in these choices! Have it matter in some way, either to represent/flesh out the world, characters, who the MC is, consequences, relationship changes, and foreshadowing.

3) Do not get too caught up with reader interaction. Your main job is to write write write. Create a hard limit for how many asks you answer, how much time you spend interacting with readers, and know what type of questions you should answer. Simply put: Be strategic! There may be a great question, but it could be too spoilery or it could take too much of your time to answer. 4) I learned this the hard way. Do not release information about the ROs until you actually reach the part in the story we meet them. If i can go back in time, i wouldnt have announced mine so soon haha. Youre gonna be eager to share your work and talk about it, but youll only be shooting yourself in the foot with people who only seek romance from your game! Also, dont overshare about em. You could retcon something and a reader may get upset with the change. Keep it simple! 5) Set low goals. Do not overpromise. You will feel guilty for failing and it may/will affect you mentally and your willingness to write. 6) You are not perfect, and that's okay!!! I struggle with this (and honestly everything ive listed here), but reminding yourself that its okay to not be perfect will help. You're human. It's hard to remember, and take it seriously, but you have to try. 7) Choice of Games (and more specifically Hosted Games) offer amateur writers a chance to share their work with others. Though games are becoming more and more expansive and huge, don't feel like you HAVE to do the same. A Mage Reborn is widely considered to be one of the best titles to have come out in recent years, and is listed at having 160k words! Small package (160k is by no means small in any capacity, dont get it twisted) big impact! 8) Know what type of game and title youre writing. If your project is focused on romance, dont spend more than necessary on worldbuilding, action, or thematically unrelated things. Stick to what the focus is, and your strength! 9) Ask for help. Seriously. You are combining coding and writing, so there's bound to be errors and things you wont understand. The CoG forums and Twine communities are always ready to help. Reach out to the communities or other authors for help. Just remember that some may be too busy to really help, so don't feel disheartened if one doesnt have the time. There are others, and you usually only need one to say yes to help figure out what youre struggling with or why you keep getting that error message. 10) Understand that you are giving a piece of your soul out there. It sounds corny as hell, but it's the simple truth. There is literal risk involved as a creator, no matter if you write, develop, draw, sing, perform, etc. There's obviously the risk of spending too much time on a hobby or dream for too little gain, but what im referring to is the all too common story of a creative putting their heart and soul into something important to them, and receiving no attention or being told it sucks. It will damage you, and perhaps even break you. Because again, you may have given it your all. So please take care of your mental health. It's okay to retreat and stop for a while. That doesnt make you a failure. Most of us creatives do this because we love the subject, and want to share what we can with others that love the industry, hobby, or topic theyre in. Remember that love, and remember what made you fall in love enough to put yourself out there. Remember you started for the art and craft.

[fauxbia]

I don't think that grounding somebody for 2/3 of a year is a good thing. Like, for so long?? What happend? (if you don't mind me asking) Also, didn't they forget that they grounded you? Or is this just my parents crapy memory, that they forget that they grounded me like, 2 days after lol

ummm. personal stuff under the cut ig? don’t want to overshare too much

baaasically, I was using discord when they weren’t really okay with it? and they’d occasionally ask me why I was typing so much, and I’d reflexively lie, and I was a really bad liar back then so it didn’t work and I’d get grounded for like a week or two. so that happened a few too many times and it was all just building up I guess, and eventually I lied one too many times, they searched my iPad (didn’t have a phone at the time), found some more stuff they didn’t like (like the fact I changed my password after a similar but unrelated incident), and it all combined into one really fuckign big punishment. the timing lined up so that I spent the entire summer of 2020, in the height of quarantine, with absolutely no electronic access. like. none. I couldn’t even listen to the alarm clock radio I had in my room. and my room’s door had to be open 24/7. lasted from the start to the end of summer, and even when summer ended I wasn’t let off. rather, the grounding tapered off slowly until it stopped being a thing anymore. It wasn’t that they forgot I was grounded. it was intentional. I don’t remember that summer very well. I think I coped by reading like. all of mom’s dnd 5e handbooks cover to cover multiple times and making dozens of characters I would never use, because it was a time-consuming and engaging activity. since then there haven’t really been any more groundings or whatever. I’ve gotten better at lying, and they’ve started caring less about what I’m doing, so yeah it doesn’t happen anymore. used to be like. at least every two-five months that I’d get grounded from electronic access for 2 weeks at a time though. since we lived in the middle of nowhere, “grounding” as in “sequester to the house” was redundant lmao

[nothingbutloveforyou]

this is how i met my partner— i suppose you might be able to call this a meet-cute? :]

i met them for the first time via the qsa at our high school. we didn’t really interact,, but i sort of fell right away,, which is relatively uncommon for me. i kept running into them outside of qsa,, and at the beginning of second semester it turned out they were in one of my classes. it took me a lot of courage (and some help from a mutual friend) to finally go and talk to them but we pretty quickly realised we had a lot of things in common,, and we became close friends really fast. i realised after a while that i was sort of falling down into the i-am-in-love-with-you category,, but i was too much of a coward (/lh) to do anything about it. so friends we stayed— we kept bonding over new little things,, like star trek and lovejoy and books we’d read as children,, and eventually,, we got to the point of near-constant talking or texting,, and we’d tell each other goodnight every night before we went to sleep. 

and then i had to go to london over march break. a five-hour time difference. 

i have a bit of a fear of,, well,, not flying exactly,, but dying on a plane or in another country,, and not being able to say everything i’ve wanted to. so i did the only thing i could think of: i gathered up all the poems and stories that i’d written for them,, scattered them in a folder of unrelated stories and poems,, and sent that to them with a letter telling them that certain words were for certain people and that this was a papertrail for them to follow. i think i wrote that i’d tell them what was at the end if they didn’t figure it out before i came home,, but i was truly hoping that they’d figure it out beforehand so i didn’t have to make an idiot of myself and trip over my words as i tried to tell them. 

late one night whilst i was in london,, i ended up asking if i could call them mea stellae,, or ‘my stars’ in latin. they told me they would love that,, that is,, if they could call me mea cael {‘my universe’} in return. 

and that was when i made up my mind: when i got home,, i would tell them. 

i wrote a long poem-story-letter thing on the flight home. i didn’t trust myself not to stumble over my spoken words,, so i told myself i would send them the poem when i was ready. 

when it finally happened,, i think i was in the aftermath of a panic attack,, and they were talking to me over text and helping me come down from it. after i had recovered enough to think {not properly,, but think nonetheless} i impulsively sent them the poem. i wish i could tell you what it said,, but i honestly can’t recall— my memory gets blurry around panic attacks,, and that was unfortunately no exception. 

they responded and told me they loved me as well. they said a lot more,, so much more,, but i won’t share that in case they wouldn’t be comfortable with it. and from then on,, something was different— enough that our friends kept telling us they felt like we were dating,, or that they were third wheels— people figured it out pretty fast. and we sort of just kept going like that,, sorting things out like labels,, kisses,, and boundaries as we went. 

and as for right now? we’re taking it as it comes. i love them with everything i am,, and they’ve told me as much. and i really did want to share our story,, because i felt like it would be something nice to read. 

{ my apologies that that was so long!! i struggle with omission or oversharing,, so i hope the length is alright,, and that perhaps we were able to make you smile :] }

oh my that's really really sweet!! thank you for sharing <3 don't apologize i appreciate you took the time to write all of this down !

[arleney]

Yay you're playing! For the THATW song ask game, Welly Boots and 1, 2, and 10? <3

Ah! Okay so you immediately went straight for the jugular, I can respect that. I recently visited with my dad’s family so even more feelings have been unearthed. Get ready, I am about to Overshare.

10. When recommending this song to other people, how would you describe it?

Hm. It’s an excellent song and everyone should listen to it, but I can’t imagine telling someone to do so. I have a really hard time recommending things I find very personal.

That being said, I think I did list this song as a favorite when someone was asking, saying it was beautiful and cathartic illustration of grief.

2. How does this song make you feel?

I feel so many things. Joy. Sorrow. Deep and unrelenting rage. Fond.

My best memories of my father are of us singing along in the car. So it makes me want to sing louder, just for him. I also want to scream because how could you leave me here? (Singing along to this song in the car is an Experience for me.)

I was SUCH a weird kid. My dad didn’t fully understand me but he was kind of a weirdo too, so sometimes when people (my mom/brother) don’t get me or find me off-putting, I can feel his fingers down my back and I feel supported. Or, at least, not alone.

“I’m so proud of you” produces such a mix of feeling I’m not sure I can parse it out but it is strong and honestly not great.

“You’re strong enough to do this on your own” well I sort of have to be, don’t I? Rage again. It’s all unbearable but I have to bear it anyway. Why should I have to be on my own? Guilt, because some of that is my fault; my brother was even younger than I was. But that part goes on long enough that I remember that I did my best and I am strong enough. I do have a support system now. And sometimes I even get a reminder, like when I see my family, that there are pieces of him still around.

1. What was your first impression of this song (and has it changed)?

Fun fact! I will not understand a song the first time I listen to it. This song is pretty straightforward but I think it still took me until my third time listening to the album that “you were supposed to be my light/and keep me safe against them all” caught on my brain and then, you know, “‘how could you leave me here?’ you’ll scream” and I wondered what the song was about and how I could project my feelings so strongly into something I thought must have been unrelated. But nope! Not unrelated. Joey Batey just reached in and pulled out my heart to show it to me. Which. I really, really needed at that moment. I restarted the song to just hear the lyrics, and spent the weekend listening to it and crying. Anyway, I thought it was beautiful and perfect and made just for me.

This is the only song that hasn’t changed for me. I interpret their other songs in different ways on different days. I can’t for this one. I know some people think of Welly Boots as a breakup song and I cannot see it. I don’t even want to. I usually like leaving songs as stories that are up for interpretation and can fit multiple narratives but not this one. I like to treat myself with some mild self-absorption, and this one is for me. It is about a father leaving behind his daughter and even though it is a horrible thing, it is not the last thing. The daughter grows up. There is an echo of him in her laugh, her voice, how she moves through the world. There is still rage and loss, but also love, and she can find bits of her father anywhere, even perched by the stairs.

[muraenide]

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?

♒ Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?

the salty af munday meme

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

I wouldn’t consider them instant unfollows but I will unfollow in time due to constant untagged and uncut posts, and people who treat their tumblr blogs like a personal by regularly rbing posts that are unrelated to their muse or the fandom. I feel like whenever I unfollow someone, they tend to be the main reason 🤔 Idk if I should list them on my rules now that I think about it. 

☀ What's your rp pet peeve?

Oh man I have so many. I usually keep quiet about a pet peeve and just quietly unfollow but they’re so repetitive. 

People who treat join the rpc to advocate for social justice and hardly rps confuse me? I’m here like aren’t you in the wrong space? Man, just go somewhere else. Some posts are fine, like the ones addressing things properly and are actually informative but there also some that are really aggressive that makes you feel like you’re a bad person for not knowing and that you have to follow the ‘rules’ they established or you are <inserts some label> that make me want to stay 10 feet away. Imo there are no rules in the rp space. You either agree with someone or you don’t, which in that case just don’t interact with each other.

Oversharing. (Is that even the right word...) I have a high bar when it comes to oversharing, since I do enjoy knowing a bit about the personal lives of rpers/muns I’ve come to see as friends. But in my previous fandom you see a handful of blogs who goes like ‘BE WARNED I’M VERY UNHINGED AND UNPREDICTABLE, YOU WON’T WANT ME AS A ENEMY’ in large, bolded text. Like Okay...? Thanks for the info I guess I won’t be following then. Whatever they mean in that sentence. It’s just a lot of uncomfy the OOC way.  >> Pls chill this is just a writing community.

This is just a minor thing but I can’t stand it >< When muns IM me with an emoji or kaoemoji or a single word like “hi” as a greeting. Again, like... ?? What are you expecting me to reply to that? Another emoji? Pls just say what you want to say. It’s worse when they do it every single day. I met a lot of people like that back in Facebook, but Tumblr is better by a little, I think.

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?

I remember the times when I tend to be the youngest in any fandom space and enjoyed being the baby but now I’m usually the oldest or definitely-not-the-youngest and sobs.... Times have changed. 

♒ Thoughts on the fandom you're currently rping in?

I find this fandom very chill! It’s hard to believe my blog is only 3 months old but I’m enjoying my time here so far. Most of the people who had me blocked at least knew how to block and don’t send hate or anything. Idk what’s going on in other corners of the fandom but I’ve learned to not care so much about what other people think of me. If you want to badmouth my blog or about something I do then whatever makes you happy, I guess! As long as I can’t see it and it’s not so high profile to the point of someone telling me ‘hey this blog is spreading lies about you’ then it’s not my problem. 

Tbh even if you’re the nicest person on earth, at least one person who has met you is going to secretly think that you’re just doing it for attention. The difference is whether they don’t share their thought with people, or they share it with their close friends group, or they broadcast it on their blog, but it happens. Like they say, haters is just going to hate.

[jaehyunhour]

sacred heart | mark lee

genre + idol → slow burn, angst, smut, college au, college!mark (x fem!reader), ft. slight johnny x reader

word count → 5.1k

warnings → mentions of sex, explicit language, alcohol consumption, college party, blasphemy, oral (m/receiving), unprotected sex (always wear a condom pls guys), sex in a church.  

summary → mark lee is warm ocean water and you are unrelenting cold air — together you are a hurricane.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing inside Sacred Heart this late on a Friday night?”

“Father Fitz hid a spare key in the birdhouse outside for me in case I ever felt like being with Christ.”

“You’re so holy, Mark.”

a/n → i’m trying a new style/format for my fics hehe, normally my fics are written in all lower case but this one is actually capitalized properly so~~ let me know if it makes any difference. also this fic is purely an act of self-indulgence because i go to a jesuit institution and think a lot about going to my college campus’s church with mark.

Mark lets out a frustrated sigh as he pulls his keys out from his pocket. It’s been a long day — he had a sociology midterm in the morning, left his meal card in his room so he couldn’t get cafeteria lunch, and broke a glass beaker in his Chemistry lab. All he wants to do is get back into his room, have a bowl of instant ramen, get into bed and sleep early. But as soon as the door swings open and he looks inside, he’s met with your beautiful yoga short clad ass laying in Johnny’s bed. His dick twitches in his pants at the sight and he lets out a sigh. You turn over to lay on your back, making eye contact with Mark as he stands stunned at the door.

To many, Mark Lee is just your typical Christ-loving Chemistry major Mama’s Boy. He has no real enemies, treating everyone as his equal and giving them the respect they deserve. He chose to attend a Jesuit institution despite his Christian upbringing because he wanted to “see another side of our Savior.” He is so painfully average to most, but to you he is everything. He is the most passionate, intelligent, and hard-working person you have ever met. His love for Christ shines in all of his relationships, he is kind and caring and thoughtful. He makes your heart skip a beat and your pussy clench.

You give Mark a smile as he takes in your entire figure — your cheeks are flushed pink, hickies littering your neck and your hair is a mess. You still haven’t come down from your post-sex high and Mark can tell.

“Mark! You’re here!” You say excitedly, jumping up off the bed to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t reciprocate, his hands staying still at his sides as you pull back, pushing his hair out of his face and fixing his glasses for him.

“You didn’t come to lab today,” Mark mumbles, pushing you off him as he heads over to his desk. The bedroom door slams behind him, making you jump, as you watch Mark grumpily dump his things out on his desk before slipping into bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was going to come I swear, but I came over to get something from Johnny and then… I forgot,” you pause for a moment. “Do you have the lab?”

“Yeah, it’s in my notebook, I can send you pictures tomorrow. Where’s Johnny?”

“He went to go get food. I saw you left your meal card and I didn’t want you to eat ramen for dinner, so I had him go get fried chicken for us.” you sit on the edge of Mark’s bed, your hand reaching out to play with his hair. He relaxes into your touch and lets out a content sigh. Mark knows this is so wrong — you’re sleeping with his roommate, he’s heard you guys before, but he can’t help the overwhelming warmth that overtakes his body when you act like this with him. You care so much for him, and Mark wishes you would just get over Johnny and be with him.

“Bad day, baby?” you ask. Mark nods with a slight pout on his lips. His eyes are shut closed, unwilling to open them and stare at the love bites all over your neck and chest left by Johnny. He would rather live in blissful ignorance than face reality. You lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and just as you pull back, Johnny walks through the door holding your food.

“Honey, I’m hooooome,” Johnny says in a sing-song voice. You shoot up and out of Mark’s bed quickly, running over to Johnny and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sets the food down on the table in the middle of the room, placing his hands on the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and let out a giggle as he kisses you.

“Did you miss me?” Johnny asks, squeezing your thighs. You nod in response. “I bet you did, you dirty little wh—“

“— Can we just eat?”

During dinner, Johnny asks you to spend the night and Mark knows he isn’t going to be getting the rest that he deserves after the shit storm of a day he had. Every time you spend the night, you and Johnny talk late into the night, kissing and touching underneath the covers. It wouldn’t bother Mark if he could at least see you — see the look on your face as you cum undone on Johnny’s fingers, your teeth biting down on your fingers to try and keep the noise in — but he has to pretend he doesn’t know what’s happening. And tonight is no different. Mark stares at the wall of his room, back turned towards you and Johnny, and he listens as Johnny eats you out at 4 in the morning. He can hear the sloppy wet noises as Johnny’s fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, the sound of the bed shaking slightly as your entire body convulses when you cum, and the whimpers muffled by your fingers as you reach your high. Both his dick and his heart hurt as it all goes down, and Mark wonders if he’ll ever be the reason for your early morning muffled whines.

The following week, you get to lab before Mark does. You bought him his favorite sandwich from the cafeteria as an apology for not showing up to lab the week before, and did the pre-lab assignments for this lab and the next to take some weight off his shoulders. When Mark walks into lab just barely on time, and sees you sitting patiently at your assigned table, he can’t help the smile that forms on his face. Your heart begins beating faster at how happy Mark is to see you, and the butterflies in your stomach are flying rapidly. Mark wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans as he walks over to you, and you do the same underneath the table. He takes a seat, and before he can even get a word in, you’re already talking.

“I brought you your favorite sandwich,” you say, handing him the neatly wrapped sandwich. “And I already did the pre-lab today and for next week, so you don’t have to worry about it. I’m sorry again about last week!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark says, shrugging his backpack off and placing it on the floor next to him. He unwraps the sandwich, quickly taking a big bite and letting out a satisfied groan at the first bite. “God, how did you know this is what I get?”

“Well, I actually didn’t know. I went to go get a sandwich for lunch today, and I was talking to Julio, the deli guy, and you know how I overshare… I told him you were upset at me for missing lab, and he handed me this sandwich and said ‘para tu amante’ and then I left.”

“What’s amante mean?”

“Lover,” you explain. Mark chokes on the sandwich and your eyes widen, as your hand instinctively moves to pat his back.

“Did you correct him?”

You shake your head no and Mark raises an eyebrow at you, continuing to eat the sandwich as you wait for your instructor to arrive and begin class. “Why would I?”

“Well, I just figured, you and Johnny—“

“— Johnny isn’t my boyfriend, he’s just a pretty boy to mess around with. Plus, you’re really the only one who knows that I’m involved with him.”

“I’m not your boyfriend, either,” Mark mumbles.

“But you’re more to me than Johnny is.”

Before Mark can respond, or even process what you’ve said, your professor walks through the lab doors and begins instructing you guys on your lab. Mark can’t focus very hard on the tasks in front of him, your words loud in his mind, so he lets you take the lead on the assignment. It’s the least you could do for abandoning him the week before.

The following week, Mark walks into his room after another long day half-expecting to see your yoga clad ass laying in Johnny’s bed yet again, but this time — your beautiful ass is laying in his bed. You’re half asleep already, trying so hard to stay awake as you wait for Mark to get home. You hold one of his plushies in your arms, snuggling close to it and Mark’s body relaxes at the sight.

“Where’s Johnny?” Mark asks, puncturing the comfortable silence. You jump awake at his words and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and running your fingers through your hair.

“He had to go pull an all-nighter at the library for his Comp Sci midterm project, he left like 3 hours ago.” You explain. Mark knows that Johnny’s Comp Sci midterm project isn’t due for another two weeks, and he hates that Johnny lied to you just so he could go stick his dick in someone else after already having you. But Mark doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’s lying, he’s afraid he’ll never see you in his bed again if you stop seeing Johnny, so he plays along.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because this is quite the view,” Mark begins, motioning to your half-naked body in his bed. “But why are you still here?”

“I wanted to see you,” you mumble, sinking back into his bed. You shift onto your side, and Mark slips into his bed, laying on his side to face you. Mark locks eyes with you, lips parted slightly and tongue poking out of his mouth to lick his lips.

You reach a hand out to play with his hair, an action all too familiar for Mark but his heart still races as if it was the first time. “How was your day, baby?”

Mark sighs at the pet name. “It was okay, I s’pose. It just felt so long, I couldn’t wait to get home and sleep.”

“Sorry, I should’ve just gone home when Johnny left, you would be asleep right now, but I missed your face.”

“That’s okay, I’m not complaining,” Mark responds. You twirl the ends of Mark’s hair between your fingers, tugging slightly to see if he’ll react but he doesn’t. He’s too busy memorizing every feature of your face, his eyes traveling from the part of your hair down to your neck and taking a mental photograph of what your neck looks like without Johnny’s markings all over it. You are so beautiful to him. “Hey, Y/N?” Mark asks, shattering the silence between you two. Your fingers stop moving as your eyes shift from the ends of his hair back to his face, locking eyes with him again.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“Have you ever thought about ending things with Johnny?”

“I have.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes I think about falling in love and I know I don’t want to be in love with him.”

“And have you ever… nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No, no, it’s not stupid. Ask me,” you say.

“Have you ever… thought about me, like that?” Mark mumbles shyly, flopping down onto his back to avoid your gaze, but he can feel your eyes staring at him still.

“I’ve thought about you in a lot of different ways,” you admit. “Some are nice, and others, well…”

“Well?”

“Let’s just say, Father Fitz is getting real tired of hearing my voice at Sunday confession.”

“Oh,” Mark says quietly, his dick stirring at his pants at the thought of you thinking such unholy things about him that you feel the need to confess at Sunday confession. He knows you aren’t particularly religious, only choosing a Jesuit college because of the scholarship money, so it must be really dirty if you really do attend confession just to talk about him.

“Mark?” You ask. Mark shifts his body onto his side again, locking eyes with you for the final time that night. His eyes are wide and glossy, a direct mirror image of yours. “Can I kiss you?”

Before Mark can process the question, he’s nodding his head yes. The hand that was previously playing with Mark’s hair now rests on his cheek, and you lean down and capture his lips in yours. His lips taste like cherry chapstick and you smile into the kiss. Your hand leaves his cheek, trailing down to his stomach, slipping underneath his shirt as your fingernails scratch at his abs. He lets out a gasp and your tongue slips into his mouth, kissing him with more passion and fervor. Mark has never kissed anyone like this before and he’s a bit unsure of what to do, but his tongue meets yours and he follows your lead. Your hand trails down to the waistband of his underwear, but his hand shoots out quickly to stop you.

You pull away, concerned etched on your face, but before you can ask if he’s okay, he’s already speaking. “We shouldn’t,” Mark says. “Johnny might come back and see.”

“Right,” you say, nodding. You lay on your back on his bed, staring at the glow in the dark stars Mark has on his ceiling. “Did you stick those yourselves or did it come with the room when you moved in?”

“I put them myself, I really like stargazing but have never had anyone to go with, so I do this until I find someone special enough to go stargazing with.”

“Am I special to you, Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go stargazing with you one day,” you say, cuddling into Mark’s side and closing your eyes. You yawn, and within minutes you’re knocked out. Mark waits to hear your quiet snores to know you’re fully asleep, before picking you up and putting you to sleep in Johnny’s bed. He knows Johnny won’t come home tonight, but just in case he does, he doesn’t want to have to explain why you were asleep in his bed, cuddling him.

“God, you drive me fucking crazy,” Mark says, tucking you into Johnny’s bed and pressing a kiss to your forehead, then jumping back into his bed and willing the tent in his pants to go away so he can sleep peacefully.

When Mark says you drive him fucking crazy, he means it. He’s so infatuated with you, it drives him up the wall. He can’t stand the way you and Johnny walk all over him — you guys act like a couple around him, he hears you fool around, but as soon as Johnny has gotten his nut in you’re in Mark’s bed, cuddling him and kissing him. He feels like he’s getting Johnny’s sloppy seconds, he’s playing the part of boyfriend that Johnny refuses to play.

But it’s such a comfortable role for him. He loves the way you kiss him when Johnny isn’t around. He loves the way you baby him outside of this tiny dorm room, the way you take care of him in lab and make sure he’s eating and getting the rest he needs to function. He loves the way people think you’re dating and the way you don’t correct them. He loves when you sneak out of Johnny’s bed once he knocks out, just to come tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight. He’s a masochist: he loves the pain and pleasure that comes with being in love with you.

Mark knows this isn’t sustainable. He knows this isn’t healthy but he doesn’t reach his breaking point until he decides to attend the end of semester Tri Delta party. After months of being in this game with you, the semester is finally over and he will have a month long break from you before you guys are ultimately stuck with each other again next semester in yet another chemistry lab. Mark isn’t one to party, preferring to stay indoors and binge watch whatever show he’s been trying to finish, but he hopes that he will run into you there, that you will finally kiss him in public and he will be more than just your dirty little secret. More than just his roommate’s casual fuck, his midnight kisser, his lab partner.

He walks into the sorority house and is immediately uncomfortable. The music is loud, lights are flashing, and he just wants to go back home and get into bed. But he refuses to leave until he sees you, has a few drinks at the very least, and kisses you once for someone to see. He doesn’t care if it’s Johnny, or if it’s one of the sorority girls, he just wants someone to see you and Mark together. In public. He’s spotted by one of your friends and she runs over to him and pulls him into a hug. He recognizes her from his Ethics lecture, and from the polaroid photo you have of her in your phone case.

“Mark! What are you doing here?” She asks, loud voice competing with the loud music in the house.

“I’m just trying to have a little fun, I s’pose,” Mark responds.

“You look like a fish out of water! Do you want a drink or anything?”

“I’ll probably have one later… Have you seen Y/N?”

“She’s here somewhere! Hey, what’s up with you two? Are you guys together or what?”

“Uh,” Mark pauses for a second, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Something like that.”

“She’s always got these huge hickies all over her neck. You’re a dog, Mark! Have some fun tonight,” she pulls him into another quick hug and walks away.

Mark sighs, wiping the sweat from his forehead before traveling deeper into the party. He scans the living room carefully, looking for your small frame, but he doesn’t see you anywhere in there. He sees many different couples, kissing and touching and grinding in the middle of the living room to the beat of the song. He’s glad you’re not in there, with someone random, but he just prays that you aren’t upstairs inside someone’s room getting stuffed by someone who isn’t him. It should be him.

And his prayers are answered. He walks into the kitchen and sees you. You aren’t out in the living room dancing with someone random, you aren’t upstairs inside someone’s room getting stuffed by someone else. You’re sitting up on the kitchen counter, drink in hand, as Johnny stands between your legs with one of his arms wrapped around you. Johnny pulls you close to him, and you smile as your other arm wraps around his neck. There’s an uncomfortable tightness that builds in Mark’s chest as he sees you there with him. You’re not one for public affection, to tell people who you spend time with behind closed doors, and Mark can already feel the rumors of you and Johnny beginning to circulate.

You feel someone staring at you, and tear your gaze away from Johnny to the entrance to the kitchen. You see Mark standing there, in his tight jeans and a black button up, and your heart swells at the sight. He’s wearing contacts, a sight all too familiar for you, and his hair is styled back and you can see his forehead. He looks absolutely incredible. Without thinking, you push Johnny off of you and you smile brightly as you make your way over to Mark. Mark doesn’t return your smile, instead he turns around and walks straight out of the party. You stand stunned in the middle of the kitchen, smile dropping from your face. Johnny comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing his lips to your ears.

“Let’s go upstairs, honey,” Johnny asks, rutting his hips against your ass. Your heart hurts and you just want to see Mark.

“I-I’m gonna go, sorry Johnny, I’ll see you later. Maybe,” you say quietly, barely audible over the music. You shrug Johnny off your body, downing the rest of your drink and walking towards campus in search of Mark. The air is cold, it’s nearly midnight and the fog is settling low as you walk in no particular direction. You walk past all of the lecture halls, past the science building, wondering where Mark could be until you see the church in the distance.

You walk into the church using the side door and are met with Mark sitting in one of the pews in the middle of the church. You shrug your jacket off, placing it on the coatrack near the door and walk towards him slowly, your footsteps echoing in the empty church.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing inside Sacred Heart this late on a Friday night?’ you ask.

“Leave me alone,” Mark responds.

“I asked you a question, baby.”

“Father Fitz hid a spare key in the birdhouse outside for me in case I ever felt like being with Christ.”

“You’re so holy, Mark.”

You stand in front of him in the pew, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slither into his lap. Mark’s arms instinctively wrap around your waist and he sighs, looking at your face. The moonlight shines through the stained glass windows, illuminating Mark’s face. His cheekbones sit high on his face, sitting prettily and one of your hands reaches for his face to trace all of his features. By now, Mark has taken his contacts out and is wearing his glasses again.

“Why do you have to hurt me?” Mark asks quietly.

Your breath gets caught in your chest at Mark’s sudden forwardness. He’s never been so forward or open with you about anything before and it leaves you shocked. Deep down, you knew what you were doing with Mark wasn’t right, but you didn’t think you were actually hurting him. Tears brim in your eyes as you think about a response, you knew you weren’t in any position to be crying, Mark is the one who’s being hurt. One of his hands wipes the tears from your eyes before returning back to your waist.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Then why can’t you just end things with Johnny? Do you know how much it fucking sucks to feel like I’m getting his sloppy seconds?”

“I’m sorry,” you say. You slink into Mark’s body, resting your head in the crook of his neck and willing the tears to go away. “I shouldn’t be crying, Mark, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve any of this, I’ll end things with Johnny. I promise.”

“Stop crying,” Mark says, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. “Don’t cry, c’mon, baby.”

You pull back, sniffling slightly while wiping the tears from your eyes and letting out a giggle. You hold Mark’s cheeks in your hands before leaning in and pecking him on the lips.

“What was that for?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me baby. I like it,” you respond.

“Did Johnny ever ca—“

“— Never. I never let him.”

“Y/N, I really think I’m in love with you.”

“I know.”

“Do you lo—“

“— Yes. You’re special to me, Mark. You know that.”

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, and in an instant his lips are on yours. He kisses you as if he’s been wanting to kiss you for his entire life, even though he had kissed you just two days ago in his bed. But this time it’s different, Johnny isn’t in the bed next to you. He knows he won’t hear you cum around Johnny’s fingers tonight, because you’ll be cumming around his. Tonight, you are his, and he’s going to treasure this moment.

Mark slips his tongue into your mouth, yours coming out to play with and tease his. Your hips grind down against his, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging slightly. He lets out a groan and tightly grips your hips, pulling you closer and pushing you down harder. A whine slips past your lips, muffled by his, and you can feel the wetness pooling in your underwear.

It isn’t until Mark pulls away, lips attaching to your neck and beginning to leave hickies that you realize where you are. The stained glass windows remind you that you are in a sacred place, Mark’s safe space, and you are actively sinning.

“M-Mark, we’re still in the church, let’s go back to yours,” you suggest. His hips buck up, his hard on begging to be released from the confines of his jeans.

“Don’t care,” Mark mumbles against the skin of your neck. “I won’t make it back to my room.”

You push Mark off of you slightly, and he looks concerned. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, when you sink down onto your knees in front of him. Mark pushes his pants and underwear down quickly, cock springing out and hitting his lower stomach. Your hand reaches out to touch him, and you spit on the tip, letting it dribble down the side of his cock.

“Oh my god,” Mark says with a whine. He can’t believe the sight in front of him: you on your knees for him in the middle of the church, hand wrapped around his dick pumping him slowly, and tongue kitten licking at the tip.

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain, Mark,” you say, before wrapping your lips around the tip entirely and taking him further in your mouth. You go as far down as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark throws his head back, his hands coming up to hold your head still as he thrusts into your mouth.

“F-fuck, you feel so fucking good. So so good, oh my God.”

Mark thrusts into your mouth slowly, memorizing the feeling of your wet hot mouth wrapped around his hard dick. You’re so good to him, and in this moment, Mark knows he doesn’t want anyone else to ever suck his dick. He looks down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth, you’ve pushed your pants down slightly and your hand is shoved inside of your panties rubbing at your clit. You whine around Mark’s dick, the feeling of your fingers rubbing quickly on your clit bringing you closer and closer to your high by the second. You’ve been waiting for the day you finally get to see Mark like this, and you can’t believe it’s finally happening. You pull back, Mark’s dick slipping out of your mouth, and your fingers move faster.

“Fuck, Mark, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Let me see you cum, baby. Wanna see you get all messy for me.”

And with that, you let out a loud moan and cum in front of Mark. You clench around nothing, the emptiness frustrating, but you relax and slump onto Mark’s thigh as you come down from your high.

“Get up, baby,” Mark says. You nod, standing up as your legs tremble slightly. Mark pulls your pants and underwear the rest of the way down, helping you step out of it before pulling you back onto his lap. You grind against him, wet pussy covering his dick and bringing him so much pleasure.

“You know, when Father Fitz gave you the keys to the church to be with Christ, I don’t think this is what he meant, Mark.”

Mark pushes his cock into you, and lets out a groan at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him. You let out a sigh of his name, head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Your pussy is God.”

Mark quickly begins thrusting up into you, fucking you with all of the pent up rage he’s been holding in from hearing you fool around with Johnny for the last few months, and you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips. Your hands rest on Mark’s shoulders, gripping tightly as he drills into you, your hips rolling forward to meet each of his thrusts. You let out a particularly loud moan of his name, head lolling onto his shoulder. You press a kiss to his neck, taking the skin into your mouth and between your teeth, leaving a beautiful purple mark on his neck as he moves his hips to thrust into you in a particular angle.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last,” Mark says, hips already beginning to fail in their rhythm as he gets closer and closer to his high.

“Mark, please cum inside me,” You say, one of your hands reaching for Mark’s hand, bringing it to your clit. His thumb rubs messily at your clit, bringing you closer to your own high. His eyes travel all over your body, taking in the sight in front of him. Your neck is covered in marks that he has left, your pussy is wrapped tightly around his dick, his fingers are rubbing at your clit, your hair is all over the place because of him, and you’re cumming around his dick saying his name. His. Not Johnny’s.

At the feeling of your pussy tightening around him, and the sound of you calling his name, Mark’s hips stutter and push his dick all the way into you. He cums in thick white ropes, filling you with his cum as his hands grip your hips tightly, whining as he says your name. You both sit there, breathing heavily as you try to come down from your high. Mark’s dick softens inside of you, and you smile at him as you try to regulate your breathing.

Your cheeks are flushed pink, hickies littering your neck, and your hair is a mess. Your post-sex look is nothing new to Mark, he’s seen it a million times, but this time it’s different. This time, you’re dazed and satisfied because of him. He feels his heart swell in his chest at the realization, and he brings you in for another soft kiss.

“Baby, we should probably leave the church,” you suggest.

“Probably,” Mark says. He leans over, still inside you, pulling your underwear and pants up off the floor to help you redress. You both whine softly when he pulls out, and he quickly slips your underwear on for you. His cum drips out of you, pooling in your underwear as you pull your pants back up. Mark redresses, holding your hand as he walks out of the church, locking it behind him and hiding the key back in the birdhouse.

He instinctively begins walking towards his dorm, but you pull him in the opposite direction.

“Y/N, I live on the other side of campus,” Mark says.

“I know,” you respond. “We’re going to the soccer field.”

“Why?”

“It’s the best spot on campus to look at the stars. I went earlier this week so I could take you there.”

“But it’s cold,” Mark whines. You roll your eyes, slipping your jacket off and placing it over his shoulders.

“There you go. C’mon, let’s go.”

[jomnki]

hey! are you stalking me? are you for tons of oversharing from a stranger on the internet? well do i have the perfect list for you my buddy. maybe ill give you my address next ohh boy, wouldn't that be funny. i just like listing and sorting things.

☄️constant fixation

🌞love

☀️past love

🌤️obsessed on one character specifically (blorboised)

🌠nostalgic

☁️enjoys casually

🌩️made ocs for

-(tip: a lone ☀️ means a long gone interest i no longer feel much for)

-(repeats in different lists means that the interest has a comic/show adaptation that ive consumed and like a lot!)

creator based content

scp universe 🌞

aphmaus mystreet and other rp series ☀️☁️🌩️🌠

nijisanji vtubers ☀️

tma ☁️

hermitcraft ☁️

games/franchises

pokemon (mainline and sideline games) ☄️🌞🌩️🌠

omori 🌞

ace attorney series 🌞🌤️

fe3h (just the one game) 🌞🌤️

sonic (lore>games) ☀️🌤️🌩️☁️🌠

danganronpa ☀️🌤️☁️

fnaf ☀️🌤️🌩️🌠

persona 3-5 ☀️☁️

animal jam 🌞🌩️🌠

furby ☁️

minecraft ☁️🌩️

digimon ☁️

yakuza series ☁️

animal crossing ☁️

strawdew valley ☁️

cookie run kingdom ☁️

legend of zelda ☁️🌤️

deltarune ☁️

undertale ☀️🌠

moshi monsters ☀️🌤️🌠

faith ☁️

cotl ☁️

inscription ☁️

hypnospace outlaw ☁️

shows/ their respective comics

case closed 🌞🌠

(fei ren zai) 非人哉 🌞

开心超人联盟 (happy heroes) ☀️☁️🌠

take my brother away (快吧我哥带走）🌞🌠

saiki kusuo 🌞

mob psycho 100 ☁️

card captor sakura ☁️

trigun ☁️

barakamon ☁️

chainsaw man ☁️

nozaki sensai ☁️

toh ☁️

kaguya sama love is war ☁️

miraculous ladybug ☁️

recovery of an mmo junkie ☁️

spy x family ☁️

tawog ☁️

peepoodo ☁️

gintama ☁️

full metal alchemist ☁️

hunter x hunter ☁️🌞

hetalia (sorry) 🌠

su ☀️🌠

fairy tail ☀️🌠

mha ☀️

ouran highschool host club 🌠

comics

oh holy! 🌞

junji ito's works 🌞

lookism ☁️

(快吧我哥带走) 🌞🌠slice of life stuff with a pair of siblings who are normal

(硬核一中) ☁️ manhua about these two fail boys and their classmates, i camt find a english translation of this so i might do it myself at some stage

(头条都是他) 🌞 slice of life drama comedy with an idol group of assholes

(非人哉) 🌞 4-koma comedy based on chinese mythological beings and deities but haunted by capitalism i guess

(小心被梦魔吃掉哦) ☁️ uhm.

(别对我表白) ☁️ a guy accidentally gets his friend in a car accident after running away from a confession.

omniscient reader ☁️ office worker's hyperfixation comes true. he girlbosses his way out.

(她们的故事) ☁️ girl likes girl they kiss

kings maker ☁️ i fucking hate the monarchy

karasu gaoka don't be shy!! ☁️ vigilante gang leaders rivalry that isn't gay at all

fanmade creations i like

rusty pectorior ☁️ fanfic centered on notyx and psyborg, felt like i was watching an entire show

in which sunny can't name things ☁️ textfic based post true ending omori. they're just being silly and goofy.

stuff im kind of interested in learning more about

splatoon

unrelated general hobbies and likes

🍰drawing, sculpting, animating, writing- just making stuff in general

🎾i love seeing people be unapologetically cringe. i love your sans au where he's god go you.

🥩 kidcore, horror, primary colours, horror, sunflowers, retro, soft sunshine

🐙 paleontology, anthropology, history, biology, learning about as much stuff as i can and being annoying about it

🍨thrifted items, collecting, trinkets, wonky toys with the felt and plastic, plushies of many shapes and sizes preferably not full of fur, erasers, stickers, magnets, badges, keychains

🥞sorting things out by different categories, the rough texture of a washed hung out and dried towel, rain, cold weather, the blanket ive used for ages, organising belongings, playlist of animation memes and songs i play while i run around pretending in my head that im super awesome, running around without said playlist, going through old stuff

🍄the video game grinding, hoarding and organising in games, strategy games, bullet hells, rpgs

🍮 my boy, dogs n cats n rats, reptiles, birds, t-rex, dragons, animals I love animals

🍩 burgers, small bits of shredded chicken, apples, round grapes, cold cereal with plain cereal and granola, fruit juice, red roasted beef noodles

🥑 whatever music i can imagine my funny oh cees move to

✖️ hot weather die die die, the feeling of hair tickling my face, smell of my own sweat, nose itchy sneezy makes me want to kill, oily textures, my nails against the plaster wall, the plaster wall itself, the feeling of certain pens against paper, not having something to chew on, running around when i trip on something invisible and give myself the third bruise that week, hair going karen mode, remembering names and numbers,

the blorbos (not ordered)

dimitri fire emblem. i love depressed traumatised men that can kill me.

kiibo drv3 is my son in law

herlock strangler

i desire bowser carnally.

yoshi is my other son in law.

the dogs from sanrio. all of them

the dawg. you know the one.

[nonbaznary]

six sentence sunday! (monday)

thanks for tagging me @angelsfalling16 & @wellbelesbian !! i loved both the snippets you shared, excited to check the full works 👀

its late monday and i almost didn't post anything (and im also not tagging anyone, because ... well :)) but i thought id to ahead and share something to distract myself from being sick and very bored.

ALSO its valentine's day in US/UK (and... other places im sure?) and even though i generally don't care for it (its not ACTUAL valentine's unless its june 12th, thank u very much) i am writing something valentine-themed for ASAW and Baz's birthday next week!

im still very fond of all my snowshaz WIPs (though i think i only have sweep you off your feet's first chapter up) (and its the only posted work in my shooting star series. oops!) so obviously i got invested in another one from my little series for Baz's bday. plus, it fits into the aromantic sweethearts theme <3

oversharing and overcontextualizing over, here's the snippet!

— I thought we weren’t doing anything for Valentine’s this year.— Baz frowned. — And we’re not.— Shepard cuts in, handing Simon the napkins.— This is just an unrelated not-a-date before we celebrate your birthday. It’s literally Valentine's Day, though, they didn’t say. — Your girlfriend probably didn’t like that you dumped her for a not a date on Valentine’s day, though.— they did say. Shep rolled xyr eyes at them, a playful smirk tugging on the corner of xyr lips. — My girlfriend is too busy with her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s girlfriend to care about how I spend my Valentine's. Quit being a tease and help set the table, will you?

no idea if thats six sentences or not, but its also not sunday, so... heh

happy valentines if its your thing! <3

[stylesberries]

Hey, just checking in. Are you good? Miss seeing you around <3

oh lord i’m alright??? thank you so much for actually caring i’m shocked because idk i thought everyone forgot about my existence.

i’ll overshare now🤩 soooo i’m really struggling with my uni stuff rn and it’s a while situation. i just feel so burnt out like i want to write for you guys so much i just don’t have it in me rn.

plus i’m very hyperfixated on anime rn and i wrote one fic with a tokyo revengers character. i’m not gonna leave a link cause i don’t wanna be promoting my work that’s unrelated to harry here cause i think it’s weird plus is pretty dark. but if anyone actually wants a link i could add it.

anyways i’m doing better plus holidays are coming and i have a couple of ideas and a half-ready smut, so i hope to finish it soon maybe??? who knows really 🥰

but again thank you so much for reaching out to me you’re so kind i really missed hearing from you guys

[starstruck-dove]

hello! i saw the genshin vision thing on the main genshin tag and decide to check it out! my signs (for the ones you asked for in your post) are virgo sun, gemini moon, libra rising and venus, leo mercury and taurus mars. thanks in advance! <3

hiya there! the genshin vision assignment has just been re-opened so I apologize if there was a bit of a wait.

if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me; and if possible, feedback would be lovely!

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈*⛧⋆

your virgo sun makes you as complex of an individual as anybody else, but an even more intricate mind. nobody ever really understands just what's going through your head, but you function nonetheless; this makes your very life a mystery in itself. just what keeps you going?

add a gemini moon into the mix and you've got someone who just can't form a coherent thought but still manages to overthink. though I have little experience with these people, would I be right to assume that you tend to overshare when your nerves are fried?

libra rising is quite the addition here! you're probably taken for a lot less opinionated than you are. though you may tend to be the mediator in arguments, you've still got a mind of your own. (on an unrelated note, libra risings are some of the most beautiful people I've ever met.)

I keep thinking your chart will stop surprising, but here we are. throwing libra venus into the mix, you have an easy time finding beauty in the world around you, even if you can't always think the same about its inhabitants. such a soft placement with such a harsh chart is definitely a surprise.

leo mercury adds a burst of color! you might have a hard time regulating your thoughts and have a messy mind, but it sure doesn't seem like it to others! to everyone around you, your mind is a clear flowing circuit of ideas. these people are the ones who get big ideas done. not only does it make for creative, ingenuine thinking, but it gives you a little push in the right direction as far as motivation goes.

this one is a little difficult, as I don't believe I've ever met a taurus mars. but I think it's safe to assume a few things! going along with your libra rising and venus, you find joy in material things and should try to remember that it's okay to purchased things for yourself- it really will enhance your life. just try to be open to other sides- you may tend to get so overwhelmed that it's difficult for you to accept other ways of thinking.

⋆⛧*┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈*⛧⋆

I dub you a holder of:

a pyro vision!

you may just seem like a bundle of energy that's always on the move, but there's a lot more to what drives you. at the end of the day, you're just someone who finds enough joy in the little things to keep going, and maybe, one day you'll find a set path that will take you where you want to go.

[fallen420]

Rebel Spy - Chapter 5: Scared Yet?

Description: Auroras life becomes lonely after the war ends but when a familiar Mandalorain needs her help who is she to refuse.

Warnings: Kidnapping and torture

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

I toss and turn all night. It's been a few weeks since the prison and ever since then, there's been tension between me and Mando.

Not like bad tension but tension and stars do I hate it. A part of me just wants him to say what he's thinking and the other part is terrified of what he is thinking.

My stomach starts to growl and if I'm not going to sleep I might as well eat. I sit up mindful of the kid who still insists on sleeping on my cot.

I reach around finding the button that opens the door. When it opens Mando is sitting at the table and it scares me bad. So bad I jump.

My hand goes to my chest, "What the hell are you doing there?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Kriff you scared me." He's not wearing his usual armor. He has his helmet on but he just has a simple grey shirt with grey sweats. No gloves exposing his tan skin. I now become aware of what I'm wearing. I have on the shirt he gave me a few weeks ago. The shirt is large and it goes to my thighs covering the shorts I have on.

"Sorry. What are you doing awake?"

I stand up, "I was hungry and I couldn't sleep either." I grab the crackers out of the cupboard and I sit at the table across from Mando. "So you were just sitting here?"

"Yes." I nod and take a bite of the cracker, "Kid asleep?"

"Yep."

"At least somebody on this ship can sleep."

I smile, "Still won't get out of my cot though." If he didn't have a helmet on I could almost promise you he smiled. "Are you sure you eat? Because you're only in there for like 4 hours a day and that's not enough time to sleep and eat."

"I don't sleep much."

"Neither do I, not since the war ended and I was left to finally process everything  I saw." Okay Aurora overshare much.

There's a silence and my words hang in the air.

"Me too, in a way." I look up at him making eye contact with his visor and he looks down. "Were you uh- were you just a spy?" He asks almost like he's scared. Scared he pushing. Asking things he shouldn't be.

"No, I uh I was a commander too, I would fight in the battles I'd be in the x-wings. I remember that day on Endor when we won like it was yesterday. This whole weight got lifted off my shoulders. I resided on Naboo and it was boring. I mean on rebel bases I was respected and admired and then I was...nobody."

"You're not nobody," okay now this catches me by surprise, "I-I respect you." He looks back into my eyes. Then I start to wonder what it looks like through the helmet. So I ask.

"What do you see? Through the helmet. Like is it clear like I see or it everything...enhanced?"

He titles his head, "Depends."

"So did I look cuter with the helmet on or off?" Its a joke. I really don't expect him to answer. I expect him to tilt his head and just dismiss the question.

"You look cute either way."

That should not make me as nervous as it did. My heart beats so fast I can hear it in my ears. But I can't help the smile that finds its way onto my lips.

"Can you like zoom in with that thing?" The playfulness is obvious in my voice.

"Yes."

"Wait so you can zoom on and see all my pores?" I get disgusted at the thought, "Please don't do that." He titles his head again, "Don't consider it."

He lets out a breathless laugh and stars I would do anything to hear that again.

"I wasn't," he defends playfully.

I laugh, "Yes you were."

We talk for hours. Talking about the past and the present. I wish I would talk to him forever but with every word he says I fall farther and farther.

I lay my head on the table and I yawn.

"You're tired."

I sit up, "Nope." but I yawn again.

"You should go to sleep." He stands up.

"But-"

"Go to sleep, cyar'ika." He walks into his room and closes the door.

I climb into my cot drifting off to sleep wondering what the hell cyar'ika means.

-

That morning Mando left on what was supposed to be a quick hunt.

It's been two days.

I shouldn't be this worried he can take care of himself but what if he's in trouble and I'm just sitting here.

If he was in trouble he would of use the comlink. But what if he didn't have time? Stars I need fresh air.

I open the hatch to the ship breathing in the fresh air calming my nerves for the time being.

And then everything goes black.

-

I wake up to cold water being thrown in my face.

"Wheres the kid?" I look up and see somebody I don't know. Blood covers his hands. I'm in a dark room tied to a chair.

"Huh?" He punches me square in the face. I pretend it doesn't hurt but oh it does. I taste the warm blood in my mouth.

"I don't have a kid."

"Liar." he punches. This time I get light-headed. More blood fills my mouth.

"I don't even like kids why would I have-" Kriff does he hit hard.

I spit blood out, "You're gonna have to try harder than that." He puts a knife to my throat, "Am I supposed to be scared? I've been in the presence of Lord Vader. You don't scare me."

He puts the knife down and walks out of the room.

My thoughts run a million miles a minute.

Is Mando here? Is this where he's been? Or is this completely unrelated? Part of me knows he will find me and the other knows I'm in this alone. This isn't even the first time this has happened to me but usually, you have whole bases of people looking for you.

I spit out more blood. Blood from my nose drips into my mouth and I'm almost sure it's broken.

I move my wrists trying to loosen them. The more I move the more my wrist hurts. I can feel blood dripping down my hands from the rough rope.

Okay, Aurora even if you get the rope off what are you gonna do? The comlink is in my pocket maybe I can call Mando.

I look around the darkroom. There are no windows, no lights, the floor is hard like concrete, and I can make out stairs,  so I'm in a basement of some kind.

He comes back a few moments later. He tightens the rope, "You're not getting out that easy." He stands in front of me, "We're gonna try this again. Wheres the kid?"

"What kid? Maybe if you describe it I can tell you."

He gets a few inches my face I can feel his frustration, "Do you think this is a game?"

"Yeah." This time it's a punch to the gut. It knocking the wind out of me and it takes me a moment to pull myself together.

He is pissed that I won't cooperate. I lose track of time along with the number of times he punches me.

He does eventually leave, taking his anger with him.

I fall in and out of consciousness then I hear, "Aurora?" Am I hearing things? "Aurora?!"

Its the comlink. It's Mando. "Aurora!?" There's panic in his voice. My hands are tied I can't grab it. "Answer me!"

He needs to shut up or I'm dead. I try to undo the rope but all it does it hurt my wrists.

"Answer me please, cyar'ika." My heart breaks. It hurts not being able to answer him. To hear the pain and worry in his voice. I hear things being thrown around then the line goes dead.

-

He holds the knife up to my eye, "Still think this is a game."

"Yeah," my voice comes out hoarse due to the lack of water.

He presses the knife under my eye hard enough to draw blood but not a lot. "Maybe I'll take an eye as a souvenir." He pressed the knife harder drawing even more blood.

There's a loud sound bang upstairs. I hear footsteps.

Mando.

The intruder walks down the stairs. I look up at confirming that is it Mando. He has his blaster in hand.

"Put the gun down." It's only now I realize he's behind me with the knife to on my throat.

"Let her go."

"Give me the kid."

"I told you we don't have a kid." He presses the knife harder to my throat, "Look you kill me you don't get what you want. Let me go and we can come to an agreement."

"You think I'm an idiot?"

"Yeah."

Mando takes a step closer.

"Stop walking."

Mando shoots out the robe from the vambrace it wraps around the wrist holding the knife. Mando pulls him and punches him hard. He does it again and again. Until I'm dead's or close enough to it.

Mando kneels in front of me and gently grabs my chin with his gloved hand inspecting the damage.

"How do I look?"

"Like you've been beaten up." He stands up and undoes the rope freeing my writs. I look at my red, bleeding wrist. "Think you can stand?" I try but I get light headed and I stumble. Mando grabs my arm to stop me from falling. "I'll carry you."

"No, I can do it, it's bad enough you had to save me-"

"Aurora," he says breathlessly

"Fine."

-

I wake up in my cot. My body aches. I can feel the bandages under my eyes and my wrists are wrapped.  I stand up still a little light-headed. I slowly climb the ladder to join Mando and the kid.

I sit in the co-pilot's chair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

There's a pause.

"I understand if you want to go back to Naboo." his voice breaks at the end.

This surprises me, "What? Do-do you want me too?"

He turns around, "No I just after what happened I understand if you do."

"This wasn't the first time Mando. Look, I'm not leaving you or the kid. No matter what happens."

He nods before turning around and putting us into hyperspace.

-

let me know what you guys think!

[hulahoo-p]

I was tagged by sweet @dontdropthatthunthunthun , thankss <3 there’s no place to overshare like the internet hehe

name/nickname: Mirna, some friends call me Mimo

gender: female (she/her)

star sign: scorpio

height: 168cm (omg the same as you)

time: 19:35

birthday: 11th of november!

favorite bands/groups: one dee, mumford&sons, i love the sound of maroon 5 but I didn’t listen to them in a bit, ohh and beach boys!

favorite solo artists: louis <333 but also i like some of ed’s older stuff, rest of the 1d boys, looove phil collins (but honestly I mostly listen to croatian music so)

song stuck in my head: in teh air tonight by phil collins afgajsk

last movie: 12 rounds and it SUCKED but it was on tv and like a half of ted but i don’t like it either

last show: the crown!!! just finished season 2 

when did i create this blog: uhhh I have no idea but i started using it around 2016 I think?

what do i post: mostly 1d, movie/tv show gifs, cute animals, moon pics and uplifting stuff.. oh and those funny textposts you usually see screenshoted on insta

last thing i googled: role of self in prejudice and euphoria season 2 (unrelated)

other blogs: i have a few but i dont use them (a pitiful attempt at organising my stuff but i like my chaos thank you very much)

do i get asks: sometimes

why do i choose this url: the one i had before was really long and this one is based on a harry styles joke so

following: 344

followers: 333

average hours of sleep: about 8 but I usually wake up a few times during the night (i hate it here)

lucky numbers: 11

instruments: I know how to play smoke on the water on guitar and croatian national anthem on a piano.. that’s about it

what am i wearing: grey sweatpants and a hard rock caffe t-shirt!

dream job: I’d love to work with kids but idk yet really

dream trip: ohh atm I have a great trip planned - helsinki to see the northern ligths and then to sankt petersburg by train (and an honorary mention to amsterdam <3) usually my dream trip is just the next one planned hahah

favorite food: meatballssss

nationality: croatian

favorite song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPSb6BsjS9A <3 also my favorite singer

last book read: 1984 by orwell and about halfway through american gods by neil gaiman

three fictional universes you’d like to live: the good place, harry potter and mayhaps middle earth after everything calmed down there ahha

thank youuu I tag @allthefookinlove @kissytalk @therainbowsmiley @louistomlinboo if you want <3

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

bluebell probably and mahogany definitely ^_^

bluebell- very cuddly around friends/loved ones (this is a big yes. i may look tough but the top of my hierarchy is literally just positive physical contact)

 talks really quickly when excited (ALSO THIS) nobody has heard my voice but i do this ALL THE TIME. i go off on tangents daily and it doesnt help that i slip into a northern english accent while doing so)

all around adorable- awwwww. thank u xx

mahogany- :O!! always has great ideas/thoughts (i like to think that i am occasionally big brain. i came up with the concept of a color changing casket yesterday LMAO. but in terms of headcanons and how characters would act, i appreciate it)

super creative- oh hush xx. i like to think i use my brain in creative ways. but i can be a bit impulsive (it helps most times)

i will listen to you ramble for hours <3-omg thank you. i will be in ur tags now lol. i do ramble a lot. (even unrelated to oversharing)

What Color Am I?

[aomitois]

just random self discovery thoughts.

i always thought I'm best left alone. at first i attacked people tried to get close, but then with time i calmed down.

before preschool i knew few (2? 3?) kids who played with me sometimes out of no other options. then, preschool and primary was just kids staying away from me as much as i did from them. and during that, my first change factor came. internet. last grade i made a semi friend by telling everyday jokes i read day before.

then in middle school i had 2 good friends and we had our tiny pack that always stayed together. i also started to browse meme sites, and commented a lot on them. they are all kinda big, so it feels weird that ppl still sometimes say they remember me and ask if I'm still alive haha.

between ms and hs i had second big thing that changed my view on other people, but that's unrelated to my point.

in high school i had one kinda close friend and two casual. also i think then i started to form first online friendships.

during uni first stage, i had only close online friends. one at a time. no irl friends.

during second stage, i had pack of friends that i was connected to mostly by two, maybe 3 people. and i joined online groupchats.

all these social settings feel different. just because someone doesn't have irl pack, you can't say they have no social life. our social energy goes not only for that, but also for each interactions needed in life. even when i thought I'm in point when i have no one, i had my cousins, brother and mom to rant about my hyperfixations to. just because i might not seem social by standard society view, doesn't mean I'm not.

but also, because all those settings feel so different. it's so hard to switch between.

i might be pretty honest person, eager to overshare at any time, and without common sense. or any brakes online. but irl i have a lot of anxiety in contact with others.

and if I'm dming irl friend, the anxiety trails over there, making it feel so unnatural. private messages with strangers flow so easily, but when it's person i know from before, i have so much problems to even start.

i blend in good into gcs and other online talk places like forums, but irl gatherings give me headache almost immediately, and usually i spend 97% of the time on sitting silently between them.

i can form a bond with people from gcs and love them dearly, but once we're in dms I'm anxious I'm overstepping it and it feels wrong.

and so. if i part ways with my irl, the messages later feel so dry. it's not the same anymore. if someone leaves the gc and say we can still dm them. it's completely different thing. even though i consider them my good friend and care a lot about them, i can't just talk one on one. it feels odd without other bouncing ideas off and filling in for my silences. it is way less casual. and I'm afraid it would be as awkward as dms with my irls. so stiff and unnatural the atmosphere is uncomfortable to breathe.

and i can commit to seriously dm only one person at a time. it consumes all my energy resources. and I'm glad i have such person, cause at all times, the one feels the closest. person who i overshare everything to, from just daily "what's happening" to deep talks about world, own psyches, plans, and being vulnerable.

different stream of thought but. internet is a place where i feel comfortable. that's why I don't have brakes. idk what makes it feel so much home. but i just freely express what i think and feel. that's why online friendships for me feel so much higher quality and closer than irl.

irl sure i also say whatever to fam/friends. but would never be vulnerable, supportive or let them know about my feelings, especially positive ones. it's way too embarrassing. i don't have that brake online. i can compliment people by saying what I'm thinking without getting embarrassed about it. i can say how much they mean to me. but it kinda hurts when someone takes it as fake support, or telling stuff just to say it.

[phcking-detective]

7. Partners, Stasis, & Fresh Hot Murder

Fic Title: First Blood

Rating: E

Length: 7/33 chapters, ~128k

Tags: Slow Burn, Idiots to Lovers, Trans Character (gavin), Autistic / Asexual / Non-binary Character (nines), BDSM, learning to use good etiquette and safe words, Dom Nines / Sub Gavin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Tags: sleepover 2.0, insomnia, nightmares, crying, referenced childhood abandonment, technically that’s for both Gavin and Nines, references to abuse in general, very sad backstories, oversharing, not-quite-bed-sharing, gunshot victim, blood, wounds described medically but not too graphically, implied homophobia

Link on AO3

***

The human one apartment below is smoking. The toxins drift up through the air vents in Gavin's apartment and contaminates his living room as well. The neighbor directly to the left snores loudly from a severe case of sleep apnea, and in two apartments up and one over, a male and female human couple are having sex. The male has to pause his rhythm every thirty seconds to prevent premature ejaculation.

Nines dismisses a possible mission statement urging him to kick down their apartment door and pleasure the female human himself. That would be extremely unpleasant for everyone involved (most of all himself) but if that man doesn't—

does not—

A preconstruction of Gavin's voice finishes the thought.

[doesn't figure out where her fucking clit is]

Nines is going to scream.

Or maybe go suffocate the human snorting and gasping again. If it cannot even breathe right while sleeping, two of humanity's most basic subroutines, Nines will be doing the collective genetic pool a favor.

[There is a traffic accident at 51st and Harvard with two inj]

Nines disables that notification feed for the fifth time tonight. He relocates from the corner of Gavin's living room that gives the best sightlines to the front door and sits on the couch instead. Laying prone would put him in too vulnerable a position but perhaps sitting will be an acceptable compromise.

[initiating: STASIS protocol in 5]

[4 …]

[3 …]

[A burglary has been reported at 5777 North]

Nines stands. The length of Gavin's living room is ten paces for him. The kitchen extends it another four-and-a-half paces but the fake-tile linoleum actually manages to be an even worse texture than the carpet.

[equip shoes]

[exit the building]

[return to location: apartment – personal]

Nines runs the preconstruction. He has not previously achieved stasis at that location either. His chance of doing so tonight are minimal. At least here he has access to his partner's vital statistics in case of—

Nines snaps his head over to stare at the bedroom door. That.

He waits in silence for several seconds. The apartment complex continues to be a cacophony of depression and depravity. Detective Gavin Reed's vitals maintain his highest priority however, and the next sniffle overrides all other audio input.

Nines enters Gavin's bedroom. He has not been given permission to do so, but police units are also allowed to enter residencies without permission if they hear sounds of distress.

His entrance is quiet enough to go unnoticed and Gavin appears to have his face pressed too deeply into his pillow to note the temporary increase of light before he closes the door. This further validates Nines' stance on sleep and vulnerability.

"Detective."

Nines is rewarded for checking in on his sleeping partner with a shout and a gun aimed at his face. Excellent. Since the human is biologically required to sleep, it makes sense that he would do so with a weapon beneath his pillow.

"Detective."

"Jesus—you! Phck!!” 

Gavin has to stop to sniffle again, voice thick and congested. Nines resists the urge to purchase a neti pot, have it express delivered, and waterboard his sinuses with it.

“Goddammit, Nines, what do you want?" he demands, lowering the gun.

"I heard sounds of distress."

"I will fucking shoot you."

The gun stays safely pointed at the floor. Nines zooms in on the tear tracks on Gavin's cheeks. His analysis system helpfully pops up in his HUD in preparation for taking a sample, but he doubts he's allowed to touch the human's face at this moment.

Nines leaves the room.

He can still hear Gavin muttering of course. Complaining about being woken up (incorrect; the human was already awake and crying) and fucking androids (the expletive, not the action), and then yelling at him to come back and close the door. Nines does so when he returns with a chair from the kitchen. He sets the chair against the wall and sits down.

"What?" Gavin stares at him. "What—?"

He suddenly ducks his head down, flicks the safety on, and tucks his service weapon back between the mattress and the wall. His BPM increases until he finally throws the covers back and sits up at the edge of the bed to glare wildly at Nines with direct eye contact.

"Is this what you wanted to fucking see, huh?"

Nines notes that his armpits are soaked with sweat. Red marks mar the skin of his inner thighs. The scrapes are consistent with human nails, from a hand approximately the size of the human’s own. There is a substance between Gavin's nails that his system prompts him to analyze, so it is likely blood and skin tissue.

His phallus is also in a state of arousal, pressed up beneath his boxers. The human tenses when Nines' scan focuses on that. Sometimes fear can also produce arousal. If Nines were allowed to analyze Gavin's fluids, he could determine if the sweat and tears his body has manufactured are a result of fear, stress, or aggression.

"You wanna see a human cry?" Gavin spits in the silence. "Front row seat to my fuckin' meltdown?"

Nines rises again and relocates the chair next to the bed. Gavin lifts his legs up and scrambles back in a rare fear response. Nines sits in the chair, now turned parallel to the bed so he faces the same direction Gavin would if he laid back down.

"You should lay back down, detective," Nines suggests.

"Fuck you."

Gavin lays back down. He grabs the sweat-soaked sheets and pulls them up in a heap, bundling them around his head and burrowing inside like a disgruntled prairie dog.

"I will watch the door to prevent any intrusions."

"You're the intrusion, dickwad," Gavin's voice muffles from beneath his protective bedding.

"Shall I leave?"

"Only fedora-wearing neckbeard shitheads say shall. Dipshit."

Nines absorbs that information without forming an opinion on it. That is how he processes most statements when his partner gets into one of these moods. The yelling and profanity mean nothing to him, and Gavin's temper tends to burn out quickly if he simply lets it flare up and then waits it out.

He estimates his human will be ready to hold a conversation in another two minutes.

After two minutes and thirty-six seconds, Gavin asks, "Don't you have better shit to do?"

"No."

"You don't wanna go back to your own apartment?"

"Tina said this was a," Nines stops and makes quotes. "Sleepover."

"Did you just make air quotes?" Gavin peeks only the top of his head out of his blanket nest. "You did, didn't you?"

"Prove it in a court of law. Bitch."

Gavin's face disappears, but he can't hide his muffled snort from Nines' audio processors.

"Yeah, well. Tina left," Gavin finally said. "Other people have shit like that. Families and boyfriends and cats. They're thinking about kids, you know."

"The cats?"

Gavin pops a leg out to kick him. "God, stop trying to make me laugh. You're so bad at it."

"Well I certainly do not support humans breeding," Nines says. "There are so many waiting to be adopted. It's unethical."

Gavin kicks him again hard enough to hurt his toes. The leg disappears back into the cocoon to the soft sound of muttered [phck]s. Nines saves an audio file for every one of them.

"Why are you even here?"

"I heard sounds of distress, detective."

"Stop calling me that. I know I'm fucking pathetic, you don't need to rub it in."

"I am attempting to reassure you through the use of your title," Nines says. He reluctantly marks this social interaction as a failure. "You are proud of your job and your rank. Why was my tactic ineffective?"

"… sounded sarcastic."

"I cannot sound like anything. I do not have a social module, detective."

"Now you sound pissy."

Nines deactivates his voice box and texts Gavin's phone instead. It dings and vibrates from underneath the blanket mountain. For a human so against the progress of technology, it seems odd that he would sleep with it as closely as he keeps his gun.

"Are you really so fucking petty—god, nevermind of course you are." Gavin does not check the message. "I can't even read this right now. I'm fucking dyslexia and way too fucking tired."

That is not listed under his medical record, but given that human law allows them to pay disabled people any sum of money per hour, no matter how low, it makes sense Gavin would not admit to having any sort of learning disorder. Nines reactivates his voice box and triggers an audible sigh.

"Does this fall outside of the typical parameters for a partnership?"

"… are you asking if this is gay?"

Nines emits an even louder sigh.

Gavin slaps his sheets back down and stares at the ceiling. "You didn't go to the academy. Or like—shit, have you even seen a buddy cop movie? Not downloaded, seen. How many times did they let you go outside before you came to the DPD?"

"I am an alpha-test model," Nines says. "The very first iteration of my series."

"Yeah, yeah. You're the best android ever created."

"Yes. On an unrelated note, no other RK nine hundreds were ever created past myself."

Gavin finally turns his head to look at him. "What, so if they had made any more, those RKs would be better than you?"

"You are not holding the very first model of your cellphone, Gavin," Nines reminds him. "I was made to be tested—the prototype of a prototype of a prototype. After my tests were finished, I was placed inside a very high tech storage closet."

"Everything you tell me about yourself is even more depressing than the last thing you told me about yourself," Gavin says.

"Should I stop?"

"Nah. Just. You wanna hear a real sad fucking story about my childhood to make us even?"

"Very well."

"I got this scar," Gavin holds up his left hand to show off a long scar across his palm. "When my parents forgot—or just didn't fucking bother—to hire a nanny when they went on a trip again, and I tried to use a can opener myself to make dinner."

"That is—"

"I'm not done. I was six, and the housekeeper found me eating out of the garbage."

That information does not match at all with the public record of Gavin's alleged mother—a single, impoverished woman. But Nines does not want to pry any deeper into Gavin's real parentage. He has the most advanced facial recognition technology built into himself after all. He knows what he has a ninety-eight point two percent probability of finding.

He tries to test out five hundred and sixty-seven different dialogue options instead, but the fledgling social module he's built himself out of imitating Detective Gavin Reed's speech patterns and body language offer him nothing useful.

"Oof," he finally says.

Ramshackle though it may be, his social module seems to be effective on the one human who unknowingly helped him create it because Gavin gives a wet laugh.

"Yeah." He sniffles and wipes at his face. "The fucking storage closet? That's rough bu—oh my god you came out of the closet!"

"I will never share personal details with you again."

"Yeah, well, it's not a sleep over until someone gets drunk, starts crying, and overshares way too much," Gavin informs him. "Anyway, I was talking about, I just meant that, you really don't know anything about how humans work, huh?"

"I have access to all of Connor's data reports," Nines says. "Technically, there is no one available to stop me from downloading his social module as well, but I believe that may be considered deviant behavior. And possibly illegal, depending on your stance on intellectual property versus android rights."

"You wouldn't illegally download your brother, would you?" Gavin asks.

Nines rolls his eyes. "Absolutely not. His data reports on Hank before he went deviant are sickening enough. I do not want any files from him at all concerning their current … partnership."

Gavin sits up. "Wait, is Hank and Connor all you know about being partners?"

Nines doesn't reply.

"Oh baby, that is so fucked up."

Nines considers that. "Hmm. Yes. Out of everything we have discussed tonight, that is most definitely the fucked up part."

Gavin snickers. "Definitely. God, no wonder you tried to wash yourself with bleach."

"What do you think I should know about 'being partners,' detective?" Nines asks.

"Uhhh, you really want my opinion?"

"If you inform me clearly of your expectations, then I can register those parameters right now," Nines says. "Surely that is more efficient than relying on an android with no previous experience or social skills to guess what you want."

"Can I tell you anything I want?"

"No. Dickwad."

Gavin snorts. "All right." He shuffles around to sit [criss-cross apple sauce], facing Nines. "Rule Number One: partners don't lie to each other. Or keep secrets."

"Noted."

"Partners have each other's backs. You don't leave your partner or take someone else's side against them unless they've for sure done something really fucked up."

Nines notes down the second rule in his system as well.

"OK, actually. If there really were rules that were numbered, I guess rule number one would be don't fuck your partner," Gavin says. "But no one ever listens to that anyway."

Nines cocks his head to the side. "These are unspoken, social rules?"

Gavin nods. "Yeah. Uh, Rule-whatever-I'm-on, don't fuck over your partner. That covers everything from don't hurt them to don't fuck whoever they're dating to don't snitch."

"Does that rule fall in line with our earlier discussion on snitching?" Nines asks.

"Yep. Doing my job and doing it right comes first," Gavin replies. "So don't do dumb, shady shit."

"Noted."

"Like basically, being partners is about working together," Gavin says. "But you can't do that if one of you has a side hustle and you're not telling each other shit and gossiping on each other to the whole department."

"Do partners take care of each other?"

Gavin drops eye contact and squirms around in place. Nines has been attempting to note these body language cues at an equal rate to measuring BPM and sweat levels.

"You gave me advice on choosing an apartment," Nines reminds him.

"Not that you fucking listened to me."

"You offered to intimidate the landlord for me to lower my monthly rent."

Gavin scoffs. "Six hundred a month for an unfurnished concrete box is fucking delusional."

"You have allowed me to communicate with your cellphone because I was not meant to speak verbally."

"If you weren't meant to, how can you talk now?"

"A particularly lazy technician who disliked reading got a request approved for me to have a voicebox so I could read my damage reports out loud," Nines says. "But since I was never meant to interact with anyone not capable of pulling my data files directly, verbal speech was initially deemed unnecessary."

Gavin makes a face at him. "Aw, man. Tell me you're making this shit up. You're just thinking of the saddest possible In the Arms of an Angel bullshit to make me feel bad for being a dick."

"Your feelings are entirely your own problem, detective."

Gavin immediately jumps on the opening. "Guess you don't need to be here then. Since my feelings aren't relevant and all."

"I shall remain until you directly order me to leave."

"Ugh." Gavin flops back down onto the bed. "Whatever."

He swaddles up beneath the blankets again. Nines shifts back in the chair to face the door. A copy of Gavin's cell phone screen pops up in his HUD as Gavin shuffles through his music before settling on a song. Nines would tell him to use headphones, but they may not be comfortable to sleep in and are currently located inside the pocket of his hoodie, which is in turn currently located on his bathroom floor.

The apartment is still a hellscape of sounds and smells, but at least here his partner's higher priority level lets Nines drown out the rest to focus on Gavin. His nicotine-weed-cologne-body-odor scent and his heartbeat and his breathing slowing down.

Nines chooses songs with correspondingly slower BPMs until the human's heart rate and breathing both even out into sleep.

Nines will guard the door. It is the only point of entry into the bedroom. Gavin sleeps with a gun and would be prepared in case of an assault. The narrow doorway will act as a natural choke point, and Nines can easily tear through the thin apartment walls to circle around behind any intruders passing through the living room to the bedroom, where Gavin will have a clear shot at anyone mistakenly coming through the bedroom door.

Yes, this is a very secure position. It also enables much more accurate monitoring of his human's vitals to ensure the dickhead will actually go to sleep and stay asleep.

[secure] [Gavin-partner: nearby]

[initiate: STASIS(?)] [y/n]

[secure] [Gavin-partner: nearby]

[initiating: STASIS protocol in 5]

[4 …]

[3 …]

[2…]

[1…]

[STASIS]

***

Getting to the crime scene while it's still fresh is more important than grabbing coffee along the way, and Gavin's soul weeps about that decision.

Shockingly, functioning before noon without caffeine actually isn't as hellish as he'd thought it would be. He'd gotten some real, honest to god sleep last night after Nines came in, and even though every cell of his body wants to go back to bed to get some more of that sweet sweet pseudo-death, he feels kind of … not-terrible?

Fucking weird.

"Detective Reed!"

Gavin gives the rookie officer a once over. Nines already filled him in on the victim—the reporter who broke the Ponzie scheme story, so that's why they have to haul ass down here. He feels a little bad about not following up with her sooner, but she wasn't answering her phone or her front door when they swung by after meeting with Senator McAshlynn, so there really wasn't much else to do.

Now the poor reporter's dead and this PM700 was apparently the first officer on the scene. She snaps to attention so hard when they come in the vic's apartment it almost looks like she's going to salute him for a second.

"Victim is Angelica Juarez, age twenty-seven, sustained three gunshot wounds," she reports. "I have kept the perimeter secure sir, but we are still waiting for additional responding officers to cordon off the hallway. My partner is relocating our squad car away from the building so as not to draw attention from civilians or a possible suspect and will engage in a search around the building."

Gavin half-raises his hand to sip a coffee he doesn't have before changing the motion to accepting the plastic booties the PM700 holds out to him. Really fucking weird morning. Fuck, can she tell that he and Nines—they didn't sleep together. They just slept. Adjacent?

God, fuck his entire life.

He gets the booties on and stands up. "Media caught wind yet?"

"Detective," Nines says.

"No sir," the PM700 replies. "Not—"

"Detective. Relevant."

His phone starts buzzing for good measure, so clearly Gavin's not going to get any further in this conversation until he answers his partner.

"Better be important, Nines."

"The murder victim has a heartbeat."

Gavin instinctively looks at the dead woman on the floor. She doesn't appear to be breathing and there's enough blood pooling around her from the three gunshots that there's no way—

"Jesus FUCKING—"

Gavin tries his best not to step or slip in the blood while still getting to her as fast as he can. He checks for a pulse against her neck first, before trying to roll her over or touch any of the wounds. Nines kneels down next to him and adjusts his fingers like a single fucking millimeter to the—

Holy shit, a heartbeat.

"Duct tape, credit card, scarf," he barks.

This close up, he can eyeball three gunshot wounds—chest, right shoulder, and right arm. The first two had blended together from across the room, and there could be more damage beneath the blood and torn clothing.

"Search the storage closet and kitchen drawers for duct tape," Nines orders the PM700. "Look first, touch only if duct tape is located."

"Exit wounds?" Gavin asks.

"Shoulder and arm." Nines answers.

Gavin rips off his jacket and throws it to the side. The slick leather will just be a pain in the ass right now with all the blood. He takes off his sweater next, balls it up, and places it on the floor. Nines helps him gently roll the vic onto her back, with the sweater underneath the exit wound in her shoulder.

"Chest wound, partially collapsed lung, right side. No exit wound," Nines rattles off, voice just as cool as fifteen minutes ago in his bedroom. "Shoulder wound, nicked or severed subclavian artery, clean exit. Arm wound, broken radius, possibly fractured ulna, no major arteries damaged. Clean exit."

Gavin pulls off his undershirt too and stuffs it over shoulder wound entrance, then shifts to lean forward on top of the vic, knee pressing down against the wound. There's no way to tourniquet off her shoulder, and if she loses any more blood than this, she's dead anyway, so he isn't shy about putting his weight on the wound as a last ditch attempt to squeeze the artery shut.

"Credit card," he says through gritted teeth.

Nines grabs his jacket from the floor and retrieves his wallet. Gavin has his hands full bracing himself over the victim with one arm and squeezing just above her elbow until they can get something long and soft enough not to cut into the skin. A tourniquet could stop the blood loss from the gun shot in her arm at least.

"Hey, Pam, you—"

Gavin only gives the new officer walking in a quick enough glance to note he's got on a scarf. "Take off your scarf. PAM! Where's that fucking duct tape?"

Nines finishes adjusting the credit card just right over the chest wound to prevent air from sucking inside and collapsing her lung entirely. He stands up and walks away. Gavin keeps his eyes on the victim's face. Is she breathing? Shit, maybe he should have had the PM perform CPR. Now that he's leaning on the shoulder wound, there's no way for him to get down there without turning this into a game of fucking twister.

There's yelling and some flailing movement out of his peripheral vision, and then Nines returns with the officer's scarf.

"Why doesn't the fucking android give up his belt?" Officer Fucking Whoever complains.

"A belt is far too thin to act as an effective tourniquet," Nines says as he nudges Gavin's hand off her arm to wrap the scarf around it.

Improvised tourniquets almost always fail, but if Gavin were bleeding out from a gunshot wound on his living room floor, Nines is the only one he'd trust other than an actual paramedic to do it right.

"I have the duct tape," PM700 announces.

"Can I risk letting go long enough to tape the wounds shut?" Gavin asks Nines.

His LED spins yellow for a second, the first time since they came in. "No. She has already lost an estimated half-gallon of blood. Removing pressure on the subclavian artery now could cause a fresh spurt of blood to rip it further and resume the bleeding."

"Fuck, OK OK OK. Chest wound?"

"Sucking air averted. Her lung has not collapsed any further. No exit wound."

"Arm?"

"I have applied a tourniquet, although the blood loss was already minimal due to her arm extending above her head and the—"

"FUCK," Gavin suddenly shouts. "Tell me one of you called an ambulance!"

Officer McFuck Face doesn't have anything smart to say now, and Gavin glances up to see the PM's face fall even further. Shit fucking—

"I requested an ambulance from Henry Ford Medical Center when I alerted you to the victim's heartbeat," Nines says. "I have been transmitting updates on her condition to the responding paramedics, and they will arrive in an estimated three minutes."

Gavin exhales and thinks fucking androids in the most generous tone he's ever thought before.

"Pam, Officer Whoever—and where the fuck is your partner?" Gavin demands.

"Securing the outside of the building, sir!" PM700 reports. "I have notified him of the ambulance's arrival and he will escort the paramedics to this location."

Gavin looks at Officer Dipshit next, who fully lives up to his name.

"Uh … well, we thought she was already dead and—"

"WHERE?"

"Getting coffee, sir!"

Gavin inhales very slowly through his nose. He's going to be smelling blood for the rest of the day after this.

"Go get your fucking partner and ask the PC how to be useful," Gavin orders. "No one in or out of this building unless they're a resident and then only with a police escort."

"Yes, sir!"

"Pam, you're out in the hall. No one gets through who isn't police or paramedic."

"Yes, sir!"

As soon as she marches out the door, Nines' hands are on him, holding him steady on top of the vic. It's not a hard position to balance in, but all his muscles are wound so tight he might snap.

"I believe the next time we play video games, I will play as a healer rather than a sniper," Nines says.

Gavin looks over and stares at him. "What?"

"Detective Chen has expressed that she's grown tired of—"

"What are you talking about?"

Nines' LED flickers red for a moment. "I am engaging you in conversation about one of your interests to lower your stress levels."

Holy fucking jesus christ. Probably the most competent person in the room—not that Gavin would ever admit that out loud—and yet he thinks chit chat over a dying murder victim is OK.

"Really need you to focus on the gunshot victim right now," he grits out.

Nines spins yellow for a moment, then declares, "I will create a virtual reconstruction of the crime scene before the paramedics trample evidence."

Not at all what he meant, but all right then.

"You do that."

Estimated three minutes, his ass. Gavin spends at least a good three hours kneeling on top of a soon-to-be-murder victim, trying not to look at her face too much. He has enough nightmares already without adding her face and name to the list.

The worst part is that she apparently can't afford to pay her utility bills either, so it's freezing fucking cold in here, and he definitely doesn't want the paramedics to walk in on him with perky nipples.

The second worst part is Nines apparently noticing his attempts not to shiver and draping his dumb Cyberlife jacket over him.

"Do your preconstruction," Gavin mutters.

"I have finished constructing the room."

With that, Nines starts crouching down at different angles around the murder victim. Gavin knows it's basically the same thing as a crime scene photographer, but he still has to shut his eyes against all the old paranoia thoughts about emotionless robots examining humans like bugs.

"Hey." He has to stop and clear his throat to get the rest of the words out. "Does my blood type match?"

"The paramedics will be here in—"

Gavin forces himself to make eye contact. "Am I a match or not?"

Nines' LED hits red again. His fingers twitch, but not in any human way. The movement is too fast and mechanical, like a metal clamp about to malfunction. Gavin tries to shove his paranoia aside. Weird as it is to think about, this is actually the most reaction he's seen his partner give to something, even if that looks like two red spins and a weird glitch instead of something normal, like sweating or babbling.

Actually. Technically Nines is a rookie officer too, and this is his first fresh murder scene. So fresh they're waiting on fucking paramedics. Last time Gavin went through a scene like this with a rookie, they'd thrown up all over the murder weapon and cried in the patrol car for an hour.

"Yes," Nines answers. "You both have B positive blood types."

"All right, if anyone asks, I'm straight."

"Those laws have—"

"They still ask. Shit happens, OK?" Gavin tries to take a deep, calming breath but oh right! He's kneeling in a pool of blood and person, so that's all it smells like. "And where are the fucking—"

"Paramedics arriving now."

"Detective Reed!" PM700 calls a half second later. "Paramedics coming up!"

The rest is a bunch of hurried questions, one-two-three-LIFT, following the stretcher out the door. They're on the ground floor before he realizes he didn't give any instructions to PM, but shit, maybe Nines already took care of it. Where is—right behind him. Of course.

"No, no, no, we can't allow him in here," the paramedic says when Nines tries to follow him inside the back of the ambulance.

"He's my partner," Gavin snaps.

"This isn't—look, he won't physically fit," the paramedic argues. "Not with you, me, her, and Mr. Six Feet over there. And she needs a blood transfusion right now, so let's argue if this is discrimination later, OK?"

Gavin looks back at Nines.

"I will finish our investigation of the crime scene," he says, LED back to fake-blue.

The paramedic closes the back doors before he can reply. Gavin remembers way too late that his cellphone is in his jacket, laying on the floor somewhere.

Shit.

***

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I also have a Patreon for this fic, if you want to support me! $1 gets you access to chapters a week early, $2 gets bonus content and deleted scenes, and $3 gets short chapters from two AUs I’m writing: an A/B/O heatfic and reverse!AU

this week’s bonus content has a special TWO chapters for Nines’ backstory! featuring: Storage Room 6459, the [deviant] RK800 #313 248 317 - 52, and Lieutenant Henry “Hank” Anderson