#2 hours grocery delivery

[manimart-plus]

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[slutweed]

i have 2 and a half hours left of my shift today and I already want to call for tomorrow. not off until Tuesday I'm so checked out. i just want to lounge around like the mammal I am. Fuck production idccccc about selling clothes to people. we have a surplus, just pass them around.

[lethargicluv]

Firefighter Simon Ghost Riley who realizes that the baked sweets and fresh bread aren’t coming from a bakery in town but actually from the girl who inherited her grandmother’s house across the street from the fire station. She stops by twice a week with everything she’s made in the last 2-3 days. Turns out she’s a recipe book editor and she likes to test every recipe in the books she’s asked to edit before she approves them for publishing. If she finds issues with the recipes she sends it back for revision. Imagine testing out a 300 page recipe book. Some weeks she stops by more than 2 times because she’s testing out meal recipes and ends up delivering large batches of lasagna and pasta and meatloaf to the station. Sometimes she messes up a bit and to make corrections to the recipes she has to remake it with some tweaking and so sometimes their meals are a little burnt, maybe a little bit too spicy, or not salty enough. Simon would appreciate it all the same, so do the rest of 141. Sometimes Soap helps her with her groceries when he sees her struggling with the large bags of flour and runs across the street to lend a hand. Gaz always offers to help her carry everything into the dining hall. Price always sees her off. It’s like everyone knows about her except Simon. He doesn’t until he nearly bowls her over running for the truck as the alarms go off and the team’s getting dispatched just as she’s dropping off a very large batch of mostly misshapen but very delicious sugar cookies. (The recipe was good just not good at holding their shape. Might be too much butter, she’ll have to send it back for revision.) They get back hours later to find these wobbly ghost shaped cookies and Soap literally wouldn’t stop laughing and tell him that the cookies looked like him. Even Price poked some fun at Simon. He catches her the next delivery struggling with several containers of roasted chicken and she nearly drops the remain chicken in her hands when she looks at the big man’s face and is met with a skull mask. They get to talking while the boys chow down on tonight’s chicken dinner and Simon thinks he’s been an idiot for holing up in his office all this time when such a lovely lady has been feeding them like this. She thinks Simon’s scary appearance doesn’t match his personality at all. He’s been so soft spoken despite his gruff voice. She makes him a bourbon cake the following week and laughs in amusement as Simon tries to fend off Soap trying to steal a bite.

Part 2

[jksarchives]

THE SIX STAGES OF A BREAK-UP │02

PAIRING; jungkook x reader

GENRE; lovers to strangers, angst

WC; 2.5k

✎ series masterlist

2. BARGAINING

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

You grew up in a small, quaint town in the countryside. The town, known for its picturesque landscapes and close-knit community, was a place where everyone knew each other.

Your parents were the owners of the town’s largest grocery store, therefore becoming a cornerstone. Your parents were the one of the most important pillars in the community who kept everyone together.

Their grocery store wasn't just a place to buy food; it was a social hub where neighbours caught up, children bought candies with their pocket money, and elderly townsfolk gathered for a chat. The store was indispensable, making sure that everyone had access to daily necessities without needing to travel to the nearest city, miles away.

Growing up, up until high school, your world revolved around the store. You spent countless hours weaving through aisles, stacking shelves, and sometimes even helping customers find what they needed.

To many, it seemed like an ideal childhood, an amazing daughter who always helped her parents.

But deep down, you knew your life was more than just lifting the burden of every day demands off your parents’ shoulder.

You were an only child to your parents, but they had always been busy for as long as you could remember.

From dawn until dusk, their lives were consumed by the tasks of running the store. Inventory needed to be checked, deliveries received, and the cash register manned. Weekends and holidays were no exception; in fact, those were often the busiest times. You would watch as your parents pour their energy and time into the store, leaving little left for you.

As a little five-year-old girl, you yearned for your parents' attention. You wished for just a few hours of their undivided focus, dreaming of days where you would play in the park, bake cookies, or simply talk. You longed for bedtime stories and weekend outings with them, but these were rare luxuries.

Their love for you was undeniable, but their presence was scarce.

Sometimes, you imagined what it would be like to have a sibling — a sister to share secrets with, a brother to play games with, someone who could fill the void in your heart.

Your friends would talk about the fun and quarrels they had with their brothers and sisters, stories that left you feeling envious and longing for the same experiences.

And as you grew older, your feelings of jealousy became more pronounced. Watching your friends with their siblings, who continued creating memories together and receiving unwavering attention from their parents, intensified your sense of deprivation.

Your attempts to gain your parents' attention often went unnoticed. You excelled in school, hoping your achievements would draw them closer, but their acknowledgment was short-lived.

Birthdays and special occasions were celebrated with gifts but lacked the warmth of genuine togetherness you hoped for. The superficial gestures could not fill the emotional gap that had grown over the years.

The loneliness of your childhood left a lasting impact on you. And as you transitioned into your teenage years, you carried with you the scars of emotional neglect from your parents.

You still loved them, and you couldn’t really blame them for trying to keep up with the heritage that your grandfather had built.

But you just wished. You just wished they had given you at least a day of their lives for you.

Relationships were difficult, be it romantic or friendship.

You craved connection but struggled with attachment issues. When you formed romantic relationships or friendships, you would swing back and forth between intense dependency and a strong desire to push people away. Your fear of being abandoned was strong, but so was your fear of being too close.

The one time you had a boyfriend when you were sixteen, you would often test boundaries, pushing for reassurance while simultaneously fearing that any closeness would lead to inevitable disappointment.

You found yourself frequently overanalysing your past boyfriend’s words and actions, interpreting affectionate gestures as signs of rejection or neglect.

But eventually he grew tired and frustrated with your behaviour, and left you overthinking everything about yourself and your flaws.

The cycle continued as you found yourself either overly clingy or excessively distant, never quite able to find a balanced space where trust could flourish. This pattern left you feeling isolated and misunderstood, as if you were forever on the outside looking in.

It wasn’t until you moved to Seoul to attend college that your life began to shift. The change came in the form of Jungkook, a free-spirited and warm-hearted boy who was everything you weren’t.

You met him at the college library, arguing about a book which you both happened to get your hands on but he let you have the win. For a moment you already felt a sense of displeasure towards him. But it all melted away when he began a conversation with you.

Jungkook was a young businessman with an open heart and an infectious zest for life. He was an heir to his father’s company, and he attended college to enhance his knowledge before taking over his father’s position someday.

You learned that he was outgoing, effortlessly charming, and had an innate ability to make people feel at ease. He was a contrast to everything you had known. He was emotionally expressive, and his openness fascinated you.

As you both started spending more time together, you found yourself slowly letting down your guard. Jungkook’s understanding and patience were qualities you hadn’t expected.

He never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with but was always there, offering a listening ear when you did choose to open up.

Jungkook’s consistent love and support through the ten years you had been together never changed, despite the times where your insecurities would resurface.

Jungkook’s love for you was evident in how he made you feel valued and cherished. He listened intently when you spoke, celebrated your successes as if they were his own, and stood by your side during tough times.

You always reflected on how lucky you were to have him. He didn’t just love you; he showed it in ways that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.

You knew that love wasn’t always easy, but Jungkook’s commitment made every challenge seem surmountable. His promise to never leave wasn’t just words; it was a living truth in the way he chose to be present in your life, day after day.

But what now?

What is going to happen now?

How were you going to live without him by your side like he promised?

It was that very thought that sent your body into a panic mode as you watched Jungkook heavy-heartedly pack his belongings.

It had been two days since he told you he wanted to break up. Two days since you slept in different rooms. One where he laid feeling guilty as he had ever been, and the other where you cried your eyes out the entire night.

You didn’t speak to him at all, though he tried his best to talk to you, saying how sorry he was for everything. But the weight of the heartbreak left you unable to speak, fearing that if you tried to, you’d break down all over again.

However, right now as you watched him, you seemed to find your voice again.

The closet door was wide open, and his suitcase laid open and half packed. You took a small step forward. Your breath felt like it was stuck in your throat, and your vision blurred as tears formed. You tried to blink them away, but they only fell faster, tracing wet lines down your cheeks.

With each step, you felt a desperate urge to make him stay, to rewind time and undo everything that had caused your relationship to fall apart.

“Jungkook,” you called softly, your voice cracking.

Jungkook paused, his back still turned to you, the shirt he was holding briefly forgotten in his hands. Slowly, he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of resignation and sorrow.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though the answer was obvious. The question was a plea, a small hope that he might say something to break the spell of finality.

Jungkook sighed and looked down, unable to meet your eyes. “I'm just...packing my things,” he said quietly.

“I’m moving back with my parents for a bit before I get my own place” he then quietly mumbled.

There was a long pause, and all he could hear was your silent cries.

“Why does it have to be like this? Can’t we...Can’t we fix this?” you asked, feeling every cell in your body weaken.

Jungkook shook his head, a pained expression crossing his face.

“I don’t think so Y/n, I’m sorry. This is for the best” he replied.

“For the best?” you echoed, your voice trembling, “it doesn’t feel like it”. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of your desperation and fear.

He finally looked at you, his eyes mirroring the depth of your pain. “I know it doesn’t. But I can’t stay, Y/n. I can’t do this to you. You deserve to be happy with someone who loves you” he said.

Your shoulders slumped, and you felt a sob rising in your chest. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to accept that your love story had come to such an end.

You couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving, of facing a future without him. The thought of waking up alone, of not hearing his laughter or feeling his arms around you, was unbearable.

“I don’t know how to do this without you Jungkook, please don’t go” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the situation.

Jungkook was well aware of your attachment issues, and it hurt him to do this. But could you blame him for being a little selfish? He couldn’t stay in a loveless relationship and suffocate himself, but he couldn’t lead you with false hope either. He could never do that to you. He never hurt you like that.

He walked over to you and took your hands in his. His touch was warm, familiar, and it sent a jolt of longing through you.

“I’m so sorry for how everything came to be Y/n, I really am. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I promise” his voice shook, and his eyes glossed with unshed tears.

“I know it’s going to be hard, but you’re stronger than you think Y/n” he said softly as his hands then moved up to cup your face.

Jungkook knew how hard this was for you, and how harder things were going to get once he left. But there wasn’t much he could do but infinitely apologise for the heartbreak he has caused.

“That’s so easy for you to say” you cried, leaning into his touch. You didn’t feel strong. You felt like you were falling apart, piece by piece.

“I know it is, but I’m not leaving your side forever Y/n” he responded.

“I’ll always be here for you, maybe not as a lover anymore, but as a friend. We were friends in the beginning, and it will always remain so” he said.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

‘Friend’, right.

But something about staying friends with your ex who you’ve been together with for a decade didn’t feel right to you. Who does that? You thought.

No.

You weren’t ready to let him go.

You couldn’t let him go.

“Please, don’t leave me,” you pleaded, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“We can fix this, I’m sure we can” you desperately held onto his hands.

The vulnerability in your words was raw, unfiltered, and it tore at you to expose yourself so completely. You didn’t care how shamelessly you were acting, practically begging a man who doesn’t love you anymore to stay.

Jungkook’s eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might relent.

But then he shook his head, a look of regret etched on his face. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, slowly and carefully detaching himself from you.

“I can’t do this to you, to us” he said as he backed away. He looked at you for a second, apologetically, before resuming to pack his clothes.

You stood silently crying until you felt like you ran out of tears. Your eyes were on this all along, yet your mind drifted elsewhere.

This was it.

┄┄┄┄┄

You were sitting on the couch when Jungkook’s voice broke the silence, startling you.

“I think that’s everything,” he says softly, not meeting your eyes. There’s a hint of sadness in his voice. You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying.

He glanced around one last time.

“I’ll get the rest of my stuff another day,” he said, almost as an afterthought. You nodded again, your heart sinking.

This was it. He was really leaving.

Jungkook picked up his suitcase and headed toward the door. As he passed you, he paused for a moment. He looked hesitant for a moment but gave in. He let go of his suitcase and pulled you up before wrapping his arms around you.

“Take care Y/n,” he said quietly against your soft brown locks.

You weakly shut your eyes, allowing the tears you’ve been holding back to freely flow once again. You swallowed a thick lump as you wrapped your arms around his muscular torso. You inhaled his cologne as you rigged on his shirt, savouring his familiar scent for the last him

“You too, Jungkook,” you managed to whisper shakily, your voice barely audible.

Jungkook could feel his shirt dampened by your tears and it only made his guilt spread across his chest.

He pulled you away and looked at your tear streaked face.

He saw you taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Can you kiss me one last time before you leave?” you asked.

Jungkook looked unsure, and the hesitation was clear on his face. For a moment, you feared he would refuse, and the rejection would be too much to bear. But then, slowly, he nodded.

“Okay,” he said softly.

As Jungkook leaned in, you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips against yours.

The kiss was gentle and bittersweet, a reminder of what you once had and what you were losing. For a few brief seconds, the world around you both faded away, and it was just the two of you, locked in a final moment of connection.

When he pulled away, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. Jungkook wiped it away gently with his thumb, his expression tender.

“I’m sorry” he said.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. But knew he was genuine with his words with the way he looked at you and held you, like a delicate glass that was now fractured.

All you could do was hum.

“Goodbye Y/n, take care. I’m always here when you need me” he said.

But you needed him now, and during all the years he had promised you.

How could you tell him that you didn’t want to let him go?

“Goodbye Jungkook” you replied, your heart breaking all over again.

As you watched him walk away, you knew that this was the end of your story. A story that ended too early and abruptly, leaving you to figure out your own ending.

NEXT ➜

[honey-crypt]

slowburn elliott x farmer please please please please... (falls to my knees) strangers to mutuals to friends to lovers (explodes)

i only ask for angst to comfort and a lot of romantic tension go crazy w this if u feel like it

a/n: y'all... i present to you... my magnus opus... 3 days of work... maybe 50 or so hours dedicated to this... please... please enjoy

wc: 10.1k

features: slow burn (strap in), mentions of war, strangers to lovers, romance that will make you melt, minor spoilers for year 2 of sdv and sdv expanded, elliott cries a lot, imposter syndrome, elliott is a SAPPY SAP OF A MAN WHO LOVES YOU LOTS, i pull from my own sdv worldbuilding/elliott lorebuilding for this

summary: a box of cereal. the spirit eve's maze. a rowboat's maiden voyage. these are just a few moments that define your love story with elliott.

★ chapters in a story called life - an elliott x farmer slow burn piece ★

Chapter 1: First Encounters

A well-manicured hand reached out for the box of cereal at the same time as you, calloused knuckles brushing against your hand. In one swift motion, the hand plucked the last cereal off the shelf. You let out a surprised gasp and whipped your head towards the cereal thief, “Hey!” you exclaimed, ready to reprimand them but your words fell short at the sight of the individual in question. 

Long fiery red hair draped over their shoulders and emerald eyes bore into your soul, as the cereal thief adjusted their grip on the box, “I apologize,” their voice hummed out at a warm baritone pitch, “You seemed… to be struggling with getting the cereal box. I wanted to assist,” the man, at least you assumed them to be a man with their chiseled jawline and overall physique, handed the box of cereal over to you, “Apologies for any miscommunication, I simply wished to help,” his word choice was eloquent, unnecessarily eloquent. 

“Oh, uh,” you took the cereal box and dropped it in your shopping basket, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” the stranger flashed you their pearly whites, “Have a pleasant day,” he walked off to the next aisle in Pierre’s General Store. You looked back at your box of cereal then went about your merry way, finishing up your grocery shopping for that week. 

Chapter 2: Run-in at the Beach 

The local fisherman Willy ordered a bundle of parsnips from your farm and you were able to harvest them today, your first of many orders set for delivery. You tied up the sack of parsnips with a pretty red ribbon and dropped them in your bag, ready to make the trek through town to deliver your vegetables and produce. 

After running through town like a headless chicken and delivering orders to the likes of Pierre, Gus, and Jodi, you crossed over the bridge and onto the beach. Despite living in Pelican Town for almost a week, you never stepped foot on the beach until now. The ebb and flow of the waves greeted you, as you approached Willy on the nearby pier. The old fisher released his rod back in, no fish on the hook, when he saw you walking up, “Ahoy, (Y/N). I take it that yer got me order of parsnips?”

“Yes, sir!” you gave him a salute and pulled out the sack of parsnips before handing it over to Willy, “Hope they’re up to your standards.”

“If yer anything like yer dear old grandpa, I’m sure that these parsnips will be golden,” the fisherman reassured you with a belly laugh, “Here’s a few extra G for yer troubles. Go get yerself a nice drink at the saloon later,” he placed about 500G in your hand, “I best be gettin’ back to fishin’, you have a good day, alright?”

“Thanks, Willy, I’ll do my best,” you gave Willy a nod before exiting the pier. Stepping back on shore, you inhaled a fresh breath of sea air and stretched out your legs, sore from running around for so long. You were about to make your way back to town when you noticed a familiar redhead by a fire pit to your right. The redhead sat by the fire pit, a towel beneath him and his shoes set aside. The sea breeze ruffled his ponytail, as the man peered silently out into the ocean. 

I shouldn’t bother him, you reasoned with yourself, He seems busy. You turned your heel towards the cobblestone pathway, only to hear the redhead call out to you, “Oh! Hello, there!” Shit, okay, now I have to talk to him. You turned your attention back on the man on the shore, “Er, hello there.”

His eyes fell onto your delivery bag, “Ah!” he broke out into a smile, “The new farmer we’ve all been expecting and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation,” you made your way to his side and plopped down next to him, “How did you know that I’m the new farmer?”

“Your bag sports your farm’s name,” the man pointed to the embroidered letters on your grandpa’s old bag, clearly showcasing the name of the farm. Your face warmed up with mild embarrassment and you quickly fanned your cheeks, “Oh, yes… makes sense,” Yoba, I’m so- ugh! Silly? Yeah, I’m silly and trying not to make a fool of myself in front of such a… handsome? Yeah, he’s handsome, alright. Handsome man. Okay, please stop yapping-

“We briefly met at Pierre’s earlier this week but I never had the opportunity to introduce myself,” the well groomed man broke you out of your internal monologue and extended a hand to you, “I’m Elliott. I live by the little cabin on the beach,” the man- no, Elliott- gestured to the cabin behind the two of you, its exterior weathered from the elements, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You eyed his hand and grasped it, surprisingly rough to the touch. The two of you exchanged a handshake, as you introduced yourself to Elliott, “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Chapter 3: Writer’s Block

You stood outside Elliott’s cabin, clutching a bag of freshly grown potatoes in your hand. Another day, another round of deliveries; at least, you got to deliver to a friendly face. You knocked on the door, only for it to slowly creak open. Cautiously, you entered the cabin and called out to the redhead, “Hello? Elliott, are you home?”

The cabin was surprisingly under-decorated and somewhat shoddy, a lone bed in the far corner of the room with a piano beside it. In the corner closest to you, Elliott hunched over his desk, the sound of pen scrubbing echoing throughout the cabin’s old walls. You called out to Elliott once more, “Elliott?” he perked up at the sound of your voice, “Ah! (Y/N)!” he rose from his desk, “What a surprise to have you in my…” his voice trailed off, “…humble abode! What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?”

“Just dropping off your order,” you set the bag of potatoes on the closest available space, “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, the usual,” hummed Elliott, “I’m attempting to narrow down how to address this one scene in my novel.”

“You’re a writer?” you raised your eyebrows, trying to see if you can catch a glimpse of his work. Elliott hovered by his desk and brushed a few loose papers over his work, “Yes, yes I am. It’s a bit of a funny story, but I actually moved to Pelican Town to pursue my writing career.”

“Oh, really? How come?” you asked.

Elliott placed his hands on the desk and leaned on it for support, “I supposed a life of solitude would impose some… literary genius upon me, like the great Ernest Hemingway. Yet, I’m at a standstill—” he cleared his throat, “Well, in all honesty, I’ve been at a standstill for the past two or so weeks with this one scene and I’m afraid that I’m losing steam.”

You frowned, “Yikes, that really sucks,” you moved closer to the writing desk, “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes? Like a new perspective.”

Elliott’s eyes twinkled at your suggestion, “A most excellent idea!” he hurriedly gathered up his notes and shoved them into your hands, “Alright, the scene I’m at an impasse with is when Clara confronts Horatio about his late lover. I’m not sure if I should go with a tame heart to heart or something along the lines of a miscommunication gone awry.”

You read through the passages, familiarizing yourself with Elliott’s work. He wrote in a style similar to the aforementioned Hemingway, but his vivid imagery and passionate dialogue left you with a sense of awe and a desire for more. You got to the scene Elliott was stuck on, thumbing between earlier scenes and scanning the pages. Finally, you spoke up and suggested to Elliott, “Given Clara’s kind demeanour and Horatio’s sensitivity, I would go with the heart to heart option.”

Elliott broke out into a grin, “Splendid! You’re absolutely right!” he grabbed the papers and set them back on the desk, “Many thanks for your assistance, (Y/N). I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you flashed him a smile and a thumbs up, “Happy to help.”

Chapter 4: The Flower Dance

You stood by the assortment of refreshments and finger foods, nursing a glass of sparkling cider. Every few minutes, you would mindlessly adjust your flower brooch or take a sip from your glass. Laughter and chatter filled the air, as the residents of Pelican Town joined the day’s festivities. 

You scanned the crowd and found Elliott by the river, standing beside Leah and talking about something, Probably art. Not wanting to remain idle for another moment longer, you made a beeline towards the pair of redheads and greeted them nonchalantly, “Hey, Leah. Hey, Elliott.”

“Hi, (Y/N)!” the artist returned the greeting while Elliott waved at you, “Good day, (Y/N). Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“As much as I can without dancing,” you hummed, finishing off your glass. Elliott nodded, “You make a good point. This is the Flower Dance, there’s not much planned beyond dancing.”

“Speaking of dancing, are you two dancing with anyone?” you asked the pair of redheads.

“We’ll be dancing together like we did last year,” answered Elliott. For some reason, your chest tightened at his response, but you brushed it off as allergies. Elliott fixed his tie, “We best be on our way, Leah. The dance will be starting soon.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a sec!” replied Leah, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I wanna chat with (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay,” the writer smiled at the two of you, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N), and Leah, I’ll be in the main area whenever you’re ready,” he walked off without another word, as you stared longingly at his fading figure. Leah nudged you in the side, “You should dance with him instead.”

“I should?” you blinked, “But you two already agreed on dancing with each other.”

“I don’t mind passing the torch to you,” the artist nudged you once more. Yet, you shook your head and answered, “I rather not. I’m not much of a dancer anyway.”

Leah puffed out her cheeks and exhaled before stating, “You two would make a cute couple.”

You eyed Elliott in the distance and mulled over Leah’s words, “You think so?” you found yourself smiling in unison with Elliott, as the writer engaged in light banter with Willy. 

“Yeah,” the artist nodded, “I think so.”

Chapter 5: Drinking Buddies

Friday nights at the Stardrop Saloon were always the most rambunctious, at least two thirds of Pelican Town packed inside. You entered the saloon, hungry for a meal after a long day’s work, and saw a familiar figure in a blue shirt and suspenders. Elliott turned his head and grinned at the sight of you, “(Y/N), my friend! Please, have a seat with me.”

You took a seat beside Elliott at the bar, “Hey El,” the writer’s grin grew in size at the nickname, “You enjoying your Friday evening?”

“Absolutely,” answered Elliott, “Well, I must admit that it has gotten better since you arrived. It’s always a joy to see you.”

Your face heated up at his words, but you brushed it off with a laugh, “You’re sweet.”

“Of course,” the writer responded. Elliott then waved Gus over, “Hello, Gus, my friend! May I have two beers?” to which the bartender nodded, “Two beers, coming right up,” and poured two pints of beer from the tap, “Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” the redhead slid over some G to pay for the beers, enough leftover to provide Gus and Emily with some solid tips. Elliott passed one of the beers to you, “For you.”

“Why, aren’t you generous?” you chuckled, happily accepting the beer. You clutched the pint tight in your hand and Elliott raised his up towards you, “I propose a toast,” the writer announced. You held yours up, “To what?” you asked. Elliott smiled, “To our friendship.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your expression nearly soured- you weren’t sure why, though- but nonetheless, you nodded in agreement, “To our friendship,” and clinked glasses with Elliott. 

As the night went on and after a few more beers, you and Elliott were completely hammered. You could hold your liquor, of course, but the sight of Elliott merrily dancing and humming a tune made you break out in laughter and let loose. He’s cute when he’s silly. 

Chapter 6: Dance of the Moonlight Jellies 

You returned to the pier for, what local scientist Demetrius referred to as, an ‘utmost special occasion’. The occasion in question? It happened to be the annual event where moonlight jellyfish would visit the pier. You had vague memories of experiencing the event when you were a little kid with your grandpa, you remembered the fond look he had when the jellyfish would pass by.

You approached the edge of the pier near Willy’s shop and noticed Elliott looking out into the sea with that same longing look you saw the first time you properly met the tall redhead. Gently, you tapped him on the shoulder, “Hi, Elliott.”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N),” his tone was much more… serious? No, it was somewhat sad. You frowned, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for the jellies?”

“I am,” he responded, as the summer breeze ruffled his ponytail, “I’m excited to the point of grief,” your frown deepened and you questioned Elliott, “What do you mean?”

Elliott scooted over so you had more room to stand, you stood by him while he explained, “We pollute the world so much, (Y/N), especially here with Joja… I see Joja CDs and Colas washed up on shore all the time and I fear the worst,” his eyes glistened with pain, “I fear that we won’t see these magnificent creatures unless we take action and hold Joja accountable for their actions.”

You let out a low hum of agreement, it reminded you of your days at Joja Co. and the stories you heard from your coworkers about the higher ups bypassing environmental protections with some hush money. It was part of the reason why you left Joja, other than the fact that it was sucking the life out of you. The day you left Joja Co. was the day you freed yourself from the chains of society. Just like Grandpa wanted. 

“I’m sure we can,” you offered reassurance to Elliott, “I believe in us, I believe that we ultimately make the right decision.”

Elliott nodded, “Thank you, (Y/N),” he looked back at the ocean, “I hope so.”

You were about to retort when Lewis announced that the event was starting, turning your attention to the mayor. Lewis released the little boat towards the sea, you watched with bated breath for the jellyfish to arrive. Your hand brushed against Elliott’s, as the town witnessed the Moonlight Jellies appear. Elliott’s pinkly slowly reached out for yours, you timidly locked pinkies with the writer, as you enjoyed the sight of the beautiful jellies. 

Maybe, one day you’d have the courage to hold his hand. 

Chapter 7: Roadblocks 

Elliott was a no-show to your weekly outing to the Stardrop Saloon and it left you concerned. He was always so punctual and he always told you ahead of time if he couldn’t make it to an event. You worried that he was sick so you left the saloon and headed to the clinic. 

The overhead bell in the door chimed when you entered, signaling your arrival to Harvey. The town doctor gave you a wave, “Hello, (Y/N),” he greeted you, “How are you today? Are you feeling unwell? Injured?” 

“No, no! I’m okay!” you explained, “I was just wondering if you had any over-the-counter medicine. I think Elliott might be sick.”

“Oh!” the doctor let out a relieved sigh, “Well, I’m glad you’re well. Let me see what I got in stock,” he left the waiting room of the clinic and after a few moments, Harvey returned with a box of medicine, “I have this generic medicine in stock. It should help with most symptoms of illness.”

“Thanks, Dr. Harvey,” you handed him some G, to which Harvey gave you the medicine in exchange, “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” the doctor replied, as he put the G in the front desk’s cash register, “And remember to stay healthy! I’m here if you need anything.”

You flashed him a thumbs up and exited the clinic, heading off to Elliott’s cabin with a determined step in your stride. Upon arriving at the cabin, you knocked on the door, “Elliott?” you called out to your friend, “Elliott, it’s me. Are you alright?”

You heard shuffling and slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a dishevelled Elliott. His usual tan was replaced by a washed out pale, as if he hadn’t stepped outside his cabin in days. He sported heavy eye bags and an exhausted expression, “Hello, (Y/N)…” the writer rubbed his eyes, “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“This hour?” you blinked with bewilderment, “El, it’s 5pm. What time do you think it is?”

“Oh, dear,” he let out a weary chuckle, “I must have the times mixed up. I apologize, but I should go back to work. I’ll be free to chat another day,” the redhead proceeded to shut the door, but you stopped it with your foot, “Elliott,” your voice was strained with worry, “You missed our saloon hangout. You never miss an event without telling me,” you held up the medicine, “So I was worried that you got sick… I got you medicine.”

Elliott gawked at the sight of your worried expression and the box of medicine, “Oh, (Y/N), I apologize… I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m not sick or anything, I just have been so wrapped up in my work that I lost track of time.”

“Elliott,” you pushed the door open with your foot, desperate to reach out to your friend, “When’s the last time you got any sleep? Yoba, when’s the last time you went outside?”

Elliott’s freckled cheeks turned red at your questions, “I, er…” he stepped back and allowed you passage inside. The inside of the cabin was dimly lit, minus the light at Elliott’s writing desk. His trash can was overfilled with crumpled up papers, broken quills, and empty bottles of ink. You set the medicine by his nightstand and asked Elliott, “How long have you been writing?”

“I lost track of time,” he answered, taking a seat at his desk. Elliott took out a fresh quill and bottle of ink, dipping the quill into the ink and writing. Yet, the quill snapped and the man who prided himself on his elegance let out a stream of curses. He shoved the papers aside and laid his head on the desk, utterly defeated. You frowned deeply and placed your hand on Elliott’s back, rubbing it tenderly, “El… Talk to me. What’s been going on?”

A soft sniffle reached your ears, as Elliott lifted his head up and exposed his watery eyes to you, “(Y/N), it’s awful. I’m awful!” he turned his body towards you and hugged your waist, “I can’t write for- I can’t write for shit, (Y/N)!” his cursing caught you off guard, but you made no comment, as the writer continued to lament, “It’s been almost two years and I haven’t completed this damn book! I- I-” he buried his face into your shirt and sobbed, “I want to give up, (Y/N). I want to throw it all away.”

You held the back of Elliott’s head in your hand and stroked it, as the redhead cried his heart out. Yoba, how it broke your heart to see him in such… agony. You remained silent while he cried, wanting to give him time. Soon, the sobs subsided and Elliott pulled away from you, his cheeks stained with tears, “I- I apologize,” he looked flustered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” you cupped his face in your hands and playfully squeezed his cheeks, “You’re my friend- Yoba, you’re one of my best friends. You’re allowed to lean on me for support, you’re allowed to cry in my presence,” you released your hold on his cheeks, “I’m here for you.”

Elliott sniffled and wiped away any remaining tears, “You truly are my muse,” he mumbled under his breath. Your chest tightened at his comment, “Huh?” you asked. Elliott’s eyes widened, not realizing that he made that comment aloud, “Oh, uhm- Apologies, it was nothing.”

“Oh,” you did your best to hide your disappointment. Maybe I misheard? “You need a break,” you changed the subject, “You can’t keep pushing yourself when you’re so low on steam,” you gave the writer a pat on the shoulder, “So how about you change your clothes and meet me outside, okay? We’re going to the saloon.”

Elliott nodded in confirmation, “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I’ll just be a moment,” he got up from his writing desk and walked off to his dresser. You took that as your cue to leave the cabin, wanting to give the redhead privacy to change. Although, I wouldn’t mind looking- you smacked your cheeks together, Hey! Don’t think that! You then proceeded to leave the cabin, not wanting to be consumed by thoughts of seeing your best friend naked.

Chapter 8: Spirit’s Eve

Jack-o’-lanterns and other spooky decor lined the pathway into the town square, as you entered Pelican Town for Spirit’s Eve. You dressed up as an old-timey sailor, a simple but classical costume. The town square was buzzing with chatter and the occasional creak of… skeleton bones? You peered out into the distance and sure enough, there were two skeletons in a cage. 

To your surprise, one of the onlookers happened to be Elliott, dressed up in a costume that resembled the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I didn’t realize he was into the spooky. You waltzed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, El. Enjoying the display?”

Elliott whipped his body around to face you, his face deathly pale, “Er, I don’t believe I am enjoying the display,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I mean to alarm you, but I think those are real skeletons.”

You stifled back a snort, “Oh, yeah?” you eyed the skeletons, as they shuffled about the cage, “I think so, too.”

Elliott audibly gulped and appeared to be on the verge of fainting, “Oh, dear. I think I may need a drink. Care to join me?”

“I would be honored,” you replied. The two of you walked off to the assortment of fall-themed foods and drinks. Elliott grabbed himself a glass of pumpkin ale while you got some apple cider. He slammed the drink back in one or two gulps and exhaled in satisfaction, “That hits the spot,” he poured himself another pumpkin ale, “I needed something to take the edge off after seeing those… creatures,” he shivered. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a scaredy cat,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass of apple cider. Elliott pouted, “It’s perfectly reasonable to be cautious around creatures of the undead,” he protested to you. In exchange, you let out a snort and stated, “It’s okay to be a scaredy cat.”

Elliott rolled his eyes and took another swing of his ale, “I’ll prove to you that I’m not a scaredy cat!” he proclaimed. You eyed him up with curiosity, “Oh, yeah? How so, tough guy?” his cheeks were flushed at your usage of tough guy and he responded, “By completing the maze! I hear that it’s especially spooky,” the redhead pointed to the maze in the distance. He was right, it did look especially spooky. 

“Wanna make this a bet?” you offered to Elliott. The writer’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “Depends on the bet, all I ask is that there’s no skinny dipping involved. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to do that.”

Oh, I can imagine, “First one to finish the maze gets an IOU from the loser,” you proposed the bet to Elliott, “Other than skinny dipping,” you added on. Elliott flashed you his signature smile, “That sounds wonderful,” he finished his ale and discarded the glass in the washing bin, “One, two, three, go!” the writer sprinted off, leaving you in the dust, “Hey!” you yelled, trying to finish your cider as quickly as you could so you could run after him. 

Soon, you found yourself in the dreaded maze, thick but neatly trimmed bushes towering before you. You passed by a few other townies in your quest to complete the maze, such as Harvey and Abigail. After confronting a few dead ends, you were positive that the area where you found Sam in had a way. The blond mentioned something off about the nearby bush, perhaps that was the key to beating Elliott.

Footsteps echoed throughout the maze, as the man in question showed up behind you, “It appears that we’re tied,” he stated, “Yet, there also appears to be another dead end.”

“I don’t think so,” you beckoned Elliott to follow you. You approached the bush near the left side of the maze and patted around the area. Your hand suddenly slipped through an opening in the bush and you grinned, “Found it!” you immediately ran through the opening, Elliott hot on your heels. You weaved and bobbed through the terrain, laughing up at a storm. 

However, you failed to notice a tree root on the path and tripped over it, barely twisting your body in time so you landed on your back and not your face. Elliott couldn’t stop himself in time and promptly fell on top of you, slamming the palms of his hands into the ground so he didn’t crush you under his weight. Time seemed to pause, as you and Elliott locked eyes with one another, so painfully close. Your eyes drifted down to his lips and you swore that he did the same. You were so close, you were so very close. 

“Are you okay?” Elliott asked, as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto his feet, much to your disappointment. You were so close, “I’m okay,” you answered. Elliott then extended a hand to you and pulled you up from the ground, you stumbled a bit but Elliott caught you in time before you could fall again. Yoba, he was so warm and gentle, it was as if you were hugging a teddy bear.

“Be careful,” he told you, “I don’t want you to get hurt,” your heart fluttered at his words, “O- Okay,” you stammered a bit, “I’ll try not to.”

“Let’s try to finish the maze,” the writer released you from the embrace. You nodded in agreement and the two of you resumed your journey through the maze in silence. Finally, after what felt like hours, you two arrived at the end of the maze, where a treasure chest laid before you. Elliott gestured to the chest, “You should have it. After all, you were the one who found the opening that got us here.”

“Are you sure?” you questioned the writer. He gave you a smile in confirmation, “I’m positive.”

You approached the treasure chest and opened it, pulling out the prize. It was a golden pumpkin! Oh how it shined so beautifully under the moonlight. You showed the golden pumpkin to Elliott, “Look here! Isn’t this neat?”

“Very neat!” he laughed, “What a wonderful prize,” the writer then pointed to a nearby mine cart, “I believe that might be our ticket out of here.”

You hopped into the mine cart and noticed there was enough room for you, “Wanna ride with me?” you asked. Elliott shook his head, “No, it’s alright. I’ll take it when it comes back.”

You did your best to hide your sadness at his rejection and responded, “Alrighty… I’ll see you later, then,” you activated the mine cart and rode back to the outside of the maze. You considered waiting for Elliott to come back, but ultimately decided against it. You needed to go home, you needed space… so you left.

After some time, Elliott returned to the outside of the maze, eager to see you. Yet, to his surprise, you were nowhere to be seen. He frowned upon the realization that you left early and went over to grab his bag so he could leave, as well. As Elliott left the festival, his bag’s zipper opened a bit, revealing a small bouquet of flowers nestled inside. 

Chapter 9: My Muse 

Things were tense between you and Elliott ever since the incident in the maze during Spirit’s Eve. Each time you would hang out or see one another, the air would be… off. Yet, neither of you would address it, much to the annoyance of Leah, who happened to know both sides of the story and was sworn to secrecy about the crushes. Poor Leah, oh how she just wanted to slam you two’s faces together so you could make up and make out. 

You knew that Leah was right, though; you had to confess sooner or later, but the idea of getting rejected by Elliott consumed any confidence you had about asking him out. Nonetheless, you bought the bouquet from Pierre’s, the traditional gift used to ask a person to be your partner in Stardew Valley. You kept the bouquet fresh with water and plant food, not wanting it to die out before you could give it to Elliott. 

You weren’t sure how this crush started nor how it flourished to the point where your mind was plagued with Elliott almost everyday. Does he feel the same or am I just a dumbass for wanting him to feel the same? That was the question on your mind since Spirit’s Eve. 

You left your farmhouse early one morning and found the flag up on your mailbox, indicating that you had mail. Setting your scythe aside, you headed over to the mail and opened it, collecting the letters inside. You thumbed through the letters, seeing one from Pierre and another from Jodi. However, you stopped when you saw a letter with all too fancy handwriting and a red wax seal on it, Elliott wrote me a letter? you carefully opened the envelope and read its contents.

Dearest (Y/N),

I’m delighted to announce that I finally finished my novel, Camelia Station! I would be the utmost grateful if you were to attend my book reading today, at 3pm in the library. If you can’t, I understand. You’re a busy person, after all. Nonetheless, I hope you can come.

— Elliott 

You grinned ear to ear at his use of ‘Dearest’, he wrote like a Victorian noble. Your eyes darted to the words underneath Elliott’s signatures, eyes wide as you read.

P.S. I have a surprise for you. 

A surprise? your mind ran through all the possibilities of what it could be, Could it be him confessing to me? you shook your head, Maybe not… but this is a good chance for me to, though. You looked down at your watch and set an alarm for a quarter to three, plenty of time to get from the farm to the library. With that all out of the way, you then went about your chores for the day. 

After hours of hard labor, your alarm went off. You ran into your farmhouse and wiped off any sweat or grime from your body, spraying yourself in body mist to conceal the smell. On your way out, you grabbed your bag and the bouquet, neatly tucking it inside the bag. 

By the time you arrived at the library, most of the town was inside, presumably for Elliott’s book reading. Yet, the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen. You scanned the room and found Leah near the front, so you slid up beside her, “Hey Leah,” you adjusted your grip on your bag, “Have you seen Elliott?”

“I did earlier,” she answered, “I think he went to the bathroom, but he’s been gone for a while.”

“Can you hold this for a second? I’ll go find him,” you passed your bag off to Leah and made your way to the bathroom. You entered the bathroom and found Elliott by the sink, gripping down on the porcelain. He was muttering something under his breath, you couldn’t make out the words, “El?” you touched his back and he nearly jumped out of his skin, “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “Oh, dear, you gave me a fright!”

“I knew you were a scaredy cat,” you jested. Elliott rolled his eyes, just like last time you brought up his tendency for fear. You moved next to Elliott and leaned against the sink, “Why are you hiding in the bathroom?” you asked. Elliott lowered his gaze and mumbled, “I… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, “It’s your big day. I know you’re gonna do great. Everyone’s here to support you,” the redhead looked back at you, “Are you sure they’re not here to witness my demise?” You stifled back a laugh at his melodramatic question, “I promise that they’re not here to ‘witness your demise’ or anything of the sort.” 

“Promise?” he asked, his tone similar to that of a small child. You held up your pinky, “I promise,” and intertwined pinkies with Elliott. The redhead smiled weakly, but nonetheless, he was ready to perform. With you trailing behind him, Elliott entered the main area of the library and greeted everyone with his good old Elliott bravo, “Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and folks! I’m ever so honored to have you all here to celebrate the release of my book, Camelia Station.”

As Elliott babbled about his journey with writing his novel, you returned to your spot with Leah and watched with a fond twinkle in your eye at your friend. Elliott took one last deep breath and announced to the crowd, “Before I read the first chapter, there’s something I need to say…” his eyes fell on you, “I wish to thank my muse… (Y/N),” your heart began to pound like a bass drum, “Without them, I wouldn’t have completed this book. Through every hardship and challenge I faced with this process, (Y/N) was my shining light. I dedicate Camelia Station to them, so please... give them a round of applause.”

The library erupted in applause, but it was white noise to you, as you stared at Elliott in awe. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand grew clammy, as you slowly melted from the writer’s sweetness. His muse… I’m his muse.

The applause slowly died down and Elliott seized the opportunity to begin the reading, “Chapter One… Your ticket, sir? Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. Ah, yes. I have it right here, he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing…”

You listened with a keen ear to Elliott’s reading, mesmerized by his storytelling. The way he switched voices for each character, the vibrato in his words, the detailed imagery transported into the world of Camelia Station. Elliott was talented, but most importantly, he was having fun with his book.

By the time Elliott finished the chapter, a few townsfolk left the library, most likely returning to their daily responsibilities. The remaining audience applauded the writer for his reading and Elliott took a bow, “Thank you, thank you! I will have signed copies for sale at the front. Once again, thank you for coming, everyone!”

You hovered by the front of the library, watching silently while some individuals like Emily and Gus bought a signed copy of Camelia Station from Elliott. Once the crowd dispersed, you approached Elliott and flashed him a cheeky grin, “See, I told you that there was nothing to worry about.”

“You were right,” the writer replied, “Most times, you are right,” you scoffed mockingly, “Most times?” to which Elliott gave you a little nudge, “You do think sea cucumbers are a lovely fish when in actuality, you’re very very very wrong.”

“C’mon! They’re just little guys!” you huffed, much to Elliott’s amusement. A comfortable silence then fell upon the two of you, as you stared into one another’s eyes. Elliott’s pupils were big as saucers, you were positive that yours were, too. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” you rested your hand against your bag, the bouquet so close to your person. With pink tinted cheeks, the redhead answered, “I meant every word.”

“Elliott…” your mouth grew dry with nerves.

“(Y/N)...” the writer whispered.

Time stopped, as you pulled the bouquet out of your bag. At the same time, Elliott pulled out an identical bouquet from his own bag. Neither of you moved or spoke, you could only stare at the opposing bouquet. Soon and in unison, you and Elliott bursted into laughter, loud enough to get a scolding look from Gunther. 

You two finished your laugh fest and smiled at one another, “Wow,” you let out a soft laugh, “We really had the same idea, huh?” the redhead nodded, “It seems so.”

“Guess that means we’re dating?”

“Well, I did have a sonnet for you to highlight your passion, beauty, and kindness, but yes, we are dating.”

Chapter 10: Feast of the Winter Star

The fall season went by in an instant and brought the snow and frigid temperatures of winter. You and Elliott had been dating for a while when the Feast of the Winter Star rolled around. 

To your surprise and joy, Lewis mailed you earlier in the season that Elliott was your secret gift receiver. Part of you wondered if Lewis did that on purpose, but given how he handled his relationship with Marnie (you unfortunately found them in a compromised position in the bushes by the bridge in town), you highly doubted it. 

Despite Camelia Station’s completion, Elliott was already on his next book, a mystery called The Blue Tower. You thought it to be fitting that you gifted him a glass dip pen; he was strict about his writing instruments and never used a laptop, despite its ease and functionality. Hopefully, this was a good compromise. In addition, Marnie’s poor ducks would no longer have to suffer with Elliott’s weekly trips to the ranch for duck feathers. I think those ducks might be afraid of Elliott now. 

The Feast of Winter brought families, friends, and lovers together in the beautifully decorated town square. The lamp posts were lined with tinsel and a thick evergreen tree stood in the center, decked out in various ornaments with a big shining star on the top. You searched the bustling square for Elliott and found him with Gus and Leah, enjoying a glass of cranberry wine.

“Surprise,” you hugged Elliott from behind and whispered in his ear. He yelped and almost dropped his wine, “Oh! (Y/N), my love! You scared me!”

“Told yah,” you cooed, “You are a scaredy cat.”

“I concede,” sighed Elliott, “I am a bit of a scaredy cat.”

“Good enough for me,” you released him from the hug and pecked him on the kiss. You then turned your attention to Leah and Gus, but they were too absorbed in conversation. Well, at least, Gus was, as he enthusiastically lectured Leah about his various techniques for cranberry sauce. Leah, on the other hand, appeared half-sleep, but managed to have perfectly timed head nods to fake engagement.

“By the way,” you perked up at Elliott’s voice, “I have something for you,” he handed you a somewhat heavy box, neatly wrapped in red paper and secured with a golden bow, “I’m your secret gift giver!”

“What a coincidence!” you giggled, as you held out your gift to Elliott, “I’m yours,” the two of you shared a laugh and Elliott mused, “Perhaps the mayor had a part in that.”

“I doubt it,” you responded, “He’s–” you felt Lewis stare daggers in your back, as if he could hear what you were about to say, “He doesn't seem like the type to meddle in romance or romantic relationships,” you looked down at your gift, “Why is this kinda… heavy?”

“Open it up, my dear, and you shall see,” stated Elliott.

“Only if we do it at the same,” you requested and Elliott nodded, “It’s a deal.”

Together, you and Elliott unwrapped your gifts, you more so ripped through yours while Elliott was meticulous with his unwrapping. Before you, there was a black box, you opened the box up and gasped at the item inside, “You didn’t!” you exclaimed, proudly showcasing the gift to the world, “You got me the Polaroid camera we saw at the antique shop in ZuZu City!”

“I did!” replied Elliott, “You looked so happy when you saw it and you mentioned how much you wanted to get back into photographing your life, so I had to get it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Anything for my muse.”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckled, “Now, look at your gift!”

Elliott opened the thin, white box and nearly choked on his own saliva at the glass dip pen. He carefully removed the pen from the box, a beam of rainbow light shining from the glass, “Oh, (Y/N)... this is one of–” he cut himself short, “No, this is the most beautiful and thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he gave you another kiss on the forehead, “You spoil me, my dear.”

“You haven’t seen the best part yet, turn it around,” you informed Elliott. 

He turned the pen around and read the engraving, “It says…” he squinted, “The Spirit of the Valley,” he seemed a bit confused by the words and you elaborated to him, “Your writing and you, Elliott, are so deeply connected to this valley. You brought life with your writing to this valley. You brought life, joy, and peace to me. You are the spirit that’s ingrained in me and this valley.”

Elliott sniffled, tears pricking the corners of his gentle emerald eyes, “You, my muse, are intertwined with my very being. I would be utterly lacking in life’s blessings if you weren’t here,” he pulled you into a deep kiss, your hands finding their way through his long fiery hair.

“Uh, guys?” the sound of Leah’s voice interrupted the kiss, “Too much PDA.”

Chapter 11: The S.S. Granger

Spring flew by as fast as it came. You tended to your farm, interacted with those in Pelican Town, and partook in the festivities. Your first spring was one full of unknowns and uncertainties but now, you finally felt like you were part of the town and the valley. You got some good use of the camera Elliott gifted you during the Feast of the Winter Star, photographing every precious moment. Your favorite photo was the one Leah took of you and Elliott dancing at the Flower Dance. 

Soon, summer followed the peaceful spring weather with thunderstorms, heatwaves, and… green rain? Yeah, green rain happened. Only in Stardew Valley, huh? It took half of the season before nice sunny weather came and it happened to be the same day you received a somewhat cryptic letter from Elliott.

My darling,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. If you are available, please stop by the beach before noon today. I have something spectacular to show you. 

– Yours truly, Elliott 

Elliott didn’t know, but you cherished every letter he sent you, even though they were  somewhat cheesy. You went back inside your farmhouse and opened your dresser, grabbing the ornate box you kept Elliott’s letters in and placing it inside. Your eyes darted up at the wall clock, the time being around 11am or so. I need to get to the beach!

You made your way to the beach, exchanging greetings with the passing residents. When you stepped on the bridge, you noticed a man with a short crew cut and camo leaning against the bridge and admiring the river. You smiled at him, “Hi, Kent.”

The man in camo flinched at your greeting and you frowned. It was only last spring that Kent returned from the Gotoro-Ferngill War and he wasn’t adjusted yet, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

Kent shook his head, “It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Just a reflex.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded. You eyed the river and asked Kent, “Enjoying the view?”

“I am,” he answered, “Water is… calming.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “Well, I’m off to the beach, but I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” replied Kent, “I wish you the same,” you bid farewell to Kent and resumed your walk to the beach. 

You soon stepped foot on the beach, as a crisp summer breeze blew through the air. You sighed with relief at the cold sensation, it was a hot summer day. Feeling energized, you scanned the beach for Elliott and found him standing outside his cabin. He broke out into a grin when he saw you, “(Y/N)! My love, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you laughed, embracing Elliott. The two of you held the other as tight as you could, “What’s the surprise?” you mumbled, voice muffled by your face in Elliott’s chest. Elliott released you from the hug and responded, “You’ll see,” he intertwined his hand with yours and led you to the pier. In the center of the pier, a rowboat bobbed against the waters. 

Elliott gestured to the boat, “I finally fixed up the old rowboat outside my cabin… with Willy’s help, of course. I’m not much of a handyman but I did give it a fresh coat of paint,” you examined the rowboat with intrigue, its mahogany coat glimmering under the sunlight. You noticed some cursive on the hull of the boat, “S.S. Granger?”

“Named after my high school English teacher, Mr. Granger,” the redhead explained, “He was the one who lit the spark of creativity and my passion for writing,” he smiled sadly at the boat, “We kept in touch after I graduated high school, but sadly, he passed away from cancer when I was finishing up my bachelors’ at East Ferngill University.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you gave Elliott’s arm a squeeze, a sign of support, “I’m sure he would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“I hope so,” the writer sighed. Elliott shook off his melancholy and hopped onto the boat, extending a helping hand out to you, “Care to join me for its maiden voyage?”

“Of course,” you grasped Elliott’s hand and boarded the rowboat. You took a seat across from Elliott, who grabbed the oars and began rowing farther into the Gem Sea. The pier faded into the distance, as Elliott rowed the boat. By the time he stopped, you could only make out the silhouette of Stardew Valley, “Wow,” you were starstruck, “You can see the whole valley from here.”

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” the writer shuffled around a bit in his seat, “Although, I prefer the beautiful view right before my eyes.”

“You’re cheesy,” you snorted. Elliott shrugged his shoulders, “I would rather be cheesy if it means bringing a smile to your face,” you playfully nudged his arm, “You’re gonna make me melt.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t do that just yet,” Elliott cleared his throat, “I have another surprise for you,” you tilted your head with wonder, “Oh? You do?”

“I do,” the writer stated. He then secured the oars in the boat and began to recite, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate… Rough winds do shake the darling buds of Spring…”

You leaned in closer, entranced by your boyfriend’s words, as he continued, “And summer’s lease hath too short a date… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines… And often is his gold complexion dimm’d… And every fair from fair sometime declines…” 

The world around you two came to a standstill, “By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d… But thy eternal summer shall not fade… Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st… Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade…”

You leaned closer and closer into Elliott’s space, you could inhale his sweet pomegranate perfume, or in his words, his eau de parfum, Elliott was always a stickler with his words. He stared into your eyes, your soul, as he finished the sonnet, “When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st… So long as men can breathe or eyes can see… So long lives this, and gives life to thee.”

“Ellie…” you whispered. The writer smiled, “For the first time in my lifetime, I was at a loss for words and it was the moment I laid eyes on you at Pierre’s. You took my breath away, my love. It was only fair to share it with you in the form of one, if not, the greatest love sonnets.”

“Ellie, what are you saying?” you watched, as Elliott pulled a small, velvet box from his pant pocket, “(Y/N),” his tone was deep with emotion, “My muse, my love, my darling, my dear. I have a thousand names for you but,” he pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket, “Will you do me the highest honor and allow ‘spouse’ be one of those names?” Elliott slowly opened the box and inside, there was a Mermaid Pendant.

You covered your mouth and muffled your scream of delight before calming down enough to answer, “Yes! Yes, Elliott, I will marry you!” you embraced the redhead, nearly tackling in the process. You kissed Elliott deeply, the flames of love and passion exploding like fireworks. In that very moment, everything in the world- no, everything in the universe- was simply perfect.

Chapter 11: Wedding Bells

You fidgeted with your Mermaid’s Pendant, as Marnie and Emily added the final touches to your wedding outfit. Once they finished your outfit, you promptly walked off from the mirror in your farmhouse and began to pace around the farmhouse, “Oh my Yoba, what if he changes his mind?” you spouted off your worries. 

“I highly doubt,” answered Leah, your person of honor, “If he dares to even think about leaving you at the altar, I’ll knock some sense into him,” she held up her fists, “And I mean knock some sense into him.”

“Thanks, Leah,” you sighed, relieved. Emily, a member of your wedding party, approached you with your bouquet, a small one made of summer spangles and sunflowers you grew on the farm, “You are gonna do great, (Y/N)!” she reassured you, “I’m manifesting it for you, you will do great.”

“Thanks, Emily,” you chuckled, “I can always count on your manifestations.”

“Are you ready, dear?” Marnie asked, “It’s almost time.”

“I’m as ready as I can be,” you answered. 

You exited the farmhouse with Emily, Leah, and Marnie; the four of you making way to the entrance of the beach near Cindersap Forest. You gripped the bouquet tightly, your chest just as tight with fear. Marnie stood beside you and held out her arm, you relaxed the hold on your bouquet and locked arms with Marnie.

“You’re such a gorgeous marrier,” the rancher told you, “I’m so honored to be the one who passes you off, I hope I do your parents’ duty proud.”

Your parents couldn’t attend the wedding, your father being overseas fighting in the Gotoro-Ferngill War and your mother on the other side of the Ferngill Republic with her responsibilities at the hospital she worked at. You responded to Marnie, “You’re like a mom to me, Marnie. It felt right that you would be the one to hand me off.”

“And you’re like one of my own, (Y/N),” she retorted. You stared out towards the beach, getting a small sneak peek at the wedding arch. It’s now or never. You gave Marnie a nod and she hollered to the trio of Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail by the entrance, “It’s time!”

“Alright!” Sam cheered, “Let’s rock!” the band launched into the wedding march and you began walking to the beach with your wedding party behind you. 

Before you, the entirety of Pelican Town sat in white fold out chairs on the beach, as you followed the row of fabric towards the wedding arch. Near the front of the crowd, you spotted two familiar figures in a suit and blue dress, your parents. When you passed them, you whispered to them, “You came.”

“We did!” your mom smiled at you, “It took some phone calls, but we didn’t want to miss our angel baby’s wedding,” your dad nodded in agreement, “I can handle Gotoro grunts on the front line, but the thought of missing my only child’s wedding? That’s unacceptable. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay!” you replied, “It’s a great surprise!” you blew kisses at your parents and continued your walk to the wedding arch. Under the arch, Willy and Gus stood by Elliott as his wedding party. Your soon-to-be husband’s back faced you and once released to the altar by Marnie, you tapped Elliott on the back, “I’m here, honey.”

Elliott turned around and audibly gasped, “My darling! You- You-” tears suddenly formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, “Oh, my sweet darling, you look absolutely radiant,” he leaned in to kiss you, only to have Mayor Lewis shove his hand in between you, “Mr. Lovebird! No kissing until I say so!” he proclaimed. Elliott pouted at the mayor’s interruption, but nonetheless, he pulled back. 

The two of you smiled widely at the other, your eyes shimmering with anticipation. Lewis stood behind you and he began the ceremony, “Can all attendees rise?”

The wedding guests rose from their seats and Lewis spoke to everyone, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Elliott and (Y/N). My dear friends,” he smiled at you and Elliott, “This is a new chapter in your lives, from the moment I proclaim them to be spouses to the day you die.”

“That’s the plan,” you mused, earning a few chuckles. Mayor Lewis let out a laugh, “Splendid! Then we should get right into it!” he continued with his opening remarks, but you paid no attention to him, as you found yourself lost in Elliott’s eyes. 

“Now, the marriers will exchange vows,” you perked up at the mention of vows, watching silently as Elliott pulled out a piece of parchment and unfolded it, “(Y/N)... As I mentioned before during our boat ride, I was at a loss of words when I first laid eyes on you,” he recited his vows.

He let out a shaky breath, on the verge of crying again, “And today, I am again at a loss for words. There are no words in our language that can accurately describe your beauty, your strength, your resilience, your passion, your love. (Y/N), I thank Yoba and the forces of the universe that we are here at this moment,” the redhead hastily wiped his tears away, “You are my world, (Y/N). I love you.”

A collection of ‘aws’ and cheers erupted from the audience, as they clapped for Elliott’s vows. You sniffled a bit and blinked back your own tears, “Damn,” you let out a wobbly laugh, “Your vows blew mine out of the water, honey,” you passed your bouquet to Leah and grasped Elliott’s hands, “Elliott, the day I met… I was hella pissed off that you grabbed my cereal.”

The crowd laughed and you added on, “I thought you were a dick for that, but when you explained to me that you only wanted to help… that spark of unprompted kindness lit a flame in me. As I got to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. From your passion to your mannerisms to your silliness to your determination… Elliott, I can’t picture my future without you. I can’t wait to make a beautiful life with you.”

Another round of applause came from the wedding attendees and Elliott grinned at you, his eyes full of unabashed love for you. Mayor Lewis gestured for the applause to simmer down and once there was silence, he announced, “With the vows now done… It’s my honor to, on this lovely summer day, unite Elliott and (Y/N) together as one,” you squeezed Elliott’s hands, eager to hear the ‘okay’ to kiss.

“As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal…” the mayor stated, as you took a deep breath, “I now pronounce you spouses! You may kiss!” you and Elliott wasted no time when given the ‘okay’ to kiss, as Elliott dipped you and kissed you tenderly on the kiss. Cheers and hollers of joy erupted once more from the wedding attendees in celebration of your new matrimony. 

Elliott pulled you back up and finished the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He whispered softly to you, “You’re my spouse,” to which you smiled, “And you’re my spouse,” you planted a kiss on Elliott’s cheek, “It’s time for our new chapter, isn’t it?”

“You’re right about that, my dear,” he answered, “The first chapter in our story.”

A new chapter, indeed.

...

...

...

...

...

Epilogue: Remembrance

A redheaded woman in pantsuit stood in front of the orchard, fresh fruit hanging from the trees. Besides her, two small children held each of her hands. The woman heard the sound of footsteps, as a man in farmer overalls and similar red hair approached the orchard, his work boots crunching the autumn leaves. 

“Eleanor,” the farmer greeted the well-dressed woman, “Glad to see you here,” he supported his body against the hoe, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I may be a busy woman, but I take offense that you doubt my attendance for this day, Elias,” Eleanor scoffed at Elias, the farmer. He shrugged his shoulders and instead commented, “You brought Kenny and Quinn with you?”

“Yes,” answered Eleanor, “I thought they deserved a chance to– Heyo!” a loud voice cut into the conversation, as another redhead appeared. They dressed in casual but neat attire, a flannel wrapped around their waist and their exposed arms displaying some old scars, “Sorry, I’m late! I got held up at my logging site.”

“Late as ever, Echo,” chuckled Elias. With a pout, Echo exclaimed, “Hey! Not my fault that I had to cut down a whole forest after last week’s wildfire!”

“Enough, you two,” Eleanor stated, “Do you have the supplies?” to which Echo and Elias confirmed that they did, “Splendid,” she squatted down to her children’s levels, “Kenny, Quinn… I know this might seem scary, but Mommy’s here to keep you safe, okay? You might not understand it now, but you deserve the chance to see them.”

“Okay, Mommy,” replied Kenny and Quinn. Eleanor squeezed their hands and with that, the group entered the orchard, going deeper and deeper until they made it to their destination. Two gravestones stood proudly in the center of the orchard, a few dead fruits and flowers by them. Echo pulled out a trash bag and collected the dead items while Eleanor and Elias set down fresh pomegranates and sunflowers. 

“Mommy, where are we?” asked Quinn.

“We’re at your…” Eleanor blinked back tears, “These are your grandparents, you were very little when they went to Yoba, but they loved you both so very much.”

Kenny stared out at the gravestones and squinted, “Mommy, what do they say?”

Eleanor read the gravestone engravings aloud, “The one on the left has ‘Elliott Cunnigham’ at the top and below it, it says ‘Beloved Writer, husband, and father.’ The one on the right has ‘(Y/N) Cunningham’ with the words ‘Beloved Town Hero, spouse, and parent’,” Eleanor looked up at Echo and Elias with tears in her eyes, “Can one of you do it?”

“I got it,” answered Elias. He approached Eleanor’s side and grabbed the final offering, setting it down between the graves, “We can go if you want.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” replied Echo. Eleanor nodded in agreement, “Let’s go to the Stardrop Saloon, I think Gus would be happy to see all of us together.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” chuckled Elias. 

With everyone in tow, the siblings and their children left the orchard, leaving the gravestones at peace for another year. The final offering laid still in the space between the burial sites. 

A single box of cereal.

[sirfrogsworth]

Does anyone else get food delivery guilt?

My financial situation is getting... complicated. And it is going to be even more complicated in the near future. And I am trying to be as frugal as I can.

But I still can't move my body very much after 2+ weeks due to the bad reaction I had to medication. Like, I'm fine. I'm no longer sick from it. But the recovery my CFS requires after stuff like that takes FOREVER. And I have been stuck in bed pretty much ever since. I can get up to go to the restroom. But dishes are piling up. My trash can is full. I haven't gotten the mail in 3 days. And I'm having a really hard time preparing food. Sometimes I will just melt some cheese on a tortilla as a meal.

And so I get food delivered. And it is so freaking expensive. And I know getting GrubHub a few times is not going to make the difference between keeping my house or not. It's fine. But I can't help feeling this financial guilt every time I get something.

It also sucks because whatever happened triggered my narcolepsy and turned it up to 11. I've been sleeping 15 hours a day for a week. And so my schedule is just all over the place. I think right now my body thinks it is morning time. But even if I were to get some easy-to-make groceries delivered I'm never freaking awake to go through the process. Because you have to approve substitutions and watch along as they shop.

And there is also the added guilt of how much of a disaster my house is right now. I had everything almost spotless a few weeks ago and all of the hard work of achieving that just unraveled so fast.

Guilt is just such a shitty emotion. You can't bargain with it. You can't feed it logic and make it go away. It doesn't listen to reason.

You tell it, "Hey, I'm not feeling great."

And it's all, "Don't care."

[lowkeychenle]

Irrevocably (3) (M)

Description: Following the night of the party, all you want to do is be alone. Chenle, on the other hand, has other ideas, and is suddenly hellbent on proving to you he'll be better for you

Content Warnings: Angst (previous content warnings from other parts do apply, please check those out before you continue). Smut: explicit, rough, unprotected sex (let's make sure to use protection y'alllll), multiple rounds, why is chenle always pussy drunk i don't understand, use of pet names baby and pretty girl, temperature play (ice), oral (both), cockwarming (did y'all really think I could end a fic on a BAD NOTE when it's CHENLE WEEK?! no bye)

Word Count: 9,105

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Juliet's Full Fic Masterlist | Requests

Taglist: @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

You wish you could say things changed for you. That you miraculously felt better after you broke down in front of Chenle. Maybe you’d be in a magical world of bliss at this point if that were the case. He’d finally realize all of the bullshit he did and beg for your forgiveness, but a man like him is too prideful to admit his mistakes. You know that now.

He stayed with you until you were calm enough to think rationally, but as soon as your thinking ability came back, you hightailed away from him as fast as you could. Thankfully, Jisung hadn’t been drinking, so he offered to take you home.

He was probably dying to know—not only why Chenle stormed after you and Mark, only for Mark and Chenle’s girlfriend to both stomp off in anger, swearing they’d never speak to either of you again. Although, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. Everyone is suddenly painfully aware that you and Chenle have some sort of history that’s more than what you’d let on.

The first text from Chenle came that night. Apparently, he decided it was time to unblock you.

Chenle: I’m so sorry

All you can do is snort and drop your phone into your lap. You make sure to actually open the message so he sees you’ve read it without responding. He doesn’t deserve anymore of your time. Even if it is to apologize. You want to tear the world down when you see the two hearts next to his name, one in your favorite color, and one in his.

“You okay?” Jisung asks as he pulls up to your building. “I know we’re all friends with Chenle, but you’re important to us, too, okay? Don’t hold anything in if you’re hurting.”

Your throat is dry, and you’re sure your face is still red and puffy from all the crying you did. “Thanks, Ji. I really don’t feel like talking at all tonight. I’m sorry.”

“As long as you know I’m here if you need me.”

You nod once at him and thank him quietly before getting out of his car. Without a single look back, you head into your building. You’re not sure what to expect. Considering how Chenle’s been acting lately, his sad apology attempt is most likely all you’ll get. He’ll go back after his girlfriend, and you’ll end up blocked all over again before the end of the week.

Once you’re inside your house, you have the urge to curl into a ball on the couch with your favorite blanket and never leave the protection of the walls around you. With the door locked, nobody will ever be able to bother you.

Hours turn into days and days into weeks, and the most you’ve done is go to the grocery store once. Delivery has become your savior, but even that doesn’t sit right with you. To your surprise, Chenle continued to message you periodically.

Chenle: You have every right to be pissed at me. I know. All I want is to explain myself, okay?

Chenle: I fucked up so bad I know I did

Chenle: I need you in my life (Y/N)

You’re even more surprised when you don’t hear a single peep from Mark. Chenle was texting you at least once a day, and it seemed that as many times as he sent something to you, you were reaching out to Mark.

You love Chenle. There’s no denying it any longer, but you know better than to love someone who’s not emotionally available to you. Chenle already tore you down to the ground once.

Chenle: I’m not gonna give up until you talk to me. Even if it’s just five minutes

Chenle: I fucking miss you

Chenle: in a real way…i’m not missing anyone. I’m missing you. Please.

Chenle: I don’t even know what to say next, but I’m gonna keep texting you until you respond to me

On week three, he even went as far as to knock on your door. You hadn’t left or ordered any delivery, so you were confused as to why someone was there. Looking out the peephole, your breath faltered at the sight of Chenle. He had no right to show up. You hadn’t responded for a reason, and you’ll apparently have to move apartments to stay away from him.

“I know you’re there,” he says, voice carrying to you. “(Y/N), I really just want to talk to you. I don’t know how many times I can tell you I’m sorry before you believe me.”

You almost laugh and give away how close you are. It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, it’ll take much more than that for you to even consider talking to him. You watch him closely as his face scrunches up and he lets out a sigh.

“I’m not giving up. Ever. You’ll see. I need you and we both know it.”

The door must be thin, because when you let out a shuddering breath at his words, he perks up. It’s almost as if he’s looking right at you through the wood, like he knows exactly where you are.

“Just let me in,” he asks again. “I know what I did was wrong, and I don’t want to ask you to forgive me, but I do want to explain myself. If anything, it’ll give you some closure knowing this wasn’t your fault.”

Your heart rate escalates to the point you’re sure it’ll shatter upon impact with your ribcage. A tear rolls down your cheek, but you angrily brush it away. He doesn’t deserve your time, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be in your safe space.

“Please. You won’t even have to say anything. Let me say my piece and then I’ll go, okay?”

This isn’t even the same Chenle you knew, you tell yourself. Nothing has changed. All he wants is leverage.

The tone of his voice makes it hard to believe that, but you steel your resolve. You have to ignore him.

After that, he slumps in defeat, sighs, and walks away. You let out a pent up breath, relieved he decided to go.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

When dinner time rolls around, you don’t have any groceries since you’ve been holed up for weeks now. The only logical response is to order pizza. Plus, after the emotional wreckage Chenle left you in, you’ve earned it.

It takes about forty-five minutes for the food to arrive, and you gladly throw the door open. You recoil in shock at the sight of Chenle holding the box.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You scoff.

“I gave the dude a $50 bill and he just gave it to me. I really just want to talk—”

“That’s not the problem, Chenle,” you cut him off, stomping off toward your kitchen. “You continue to disrespect boundaries and me, and it’s not okay. I’m having trouble figuring out why you can’t see that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You stand on one side of the island, and he sets the box down on the opposite end, resting his palms against it.

“You deserve an explanation.” His gaze scans over you, guilt written all over his face.

“Another thing you don’t get. If I wanted or needed an explanation, I would’ve asked you. Actually, I did, and you not giving it to me was the answer. You’ve ruined everything for me. I can’t even talk to any of the guys without feeling like they’re pitying me.” You run your fingers through your hair. “You hurt me, and you’re doing it again by showing up when I said I didn’t want anything to do with you. You’re selfish. You only care about yourself and making up your image in my eyes so I don’t hate you.”

“Do you?” he whispers. “Hate me?”

“That doesn’t concern you anymore.”

“Either way, I know you should. I’m not here to make myself look better, okay? I don’t want you to excuse my behavior because it was beyond fucked up, but I want you to know that it wasn’t anything about you that made things work out this way.”

You pause, averting away from the pleading look on his face. “What could you possibly have going on to justify all of this bullshit?”

“It’s not a justification,” he clarifies. “I know it was wrong. All of it. I know I’m a shitty person for putting you through that.”

He takes your silence as approval to continue.

“Honestly, I miss you so fucking much. Before all of this, you were my best friend, and I know I was yours. I never meant for it to get this messed up, you know? I…Towards the end of our, um, situation, I realized I was in love with you. Real love. Love that made me want you in ways I couldn’t, because I already knew there was no way you’d feel the same.

“And so I gave up. I had to press the fucking panic button and get as far away from you as possible. Jia showed up at the right time, and I threw everything I had into her instead. I didn’t tell her about what we’d done, because I also thought that meant I’d have to admit to her what came along with it.

“Things got…serious, I guess. She was around my family and they all loved her. You know how important they are to me, so I felt so much pressure to maintain this relationship because they’d never been so excited about me being with a girl before. So yeah, when we broke up, my first instinct was to come to you. I love you, and it was the first time I felt really happy in months.

“But when she called me, (Y/N), I felt like I didn’t have a choice. You wouldn’t ever want me in the way I needed, my family loved her, and everything fell apart. It wasn’t until she made me block you that I really saw what it was like without you in my life. When I first started dating her, we still talked and hung out all the time, so it was…okay. As long as I could have you both, I was okay.

“And seeing you with Mark fucked me up so bad. I wanted to take you away from him and keep you for myself, but in my head, that never meant you were on the backburner. Everything was you, and even the idea of Mark having you in the ways I did broke me into pieces.

“And I was talking to Jia recently, just to apologize to her for wasting months of her life. She told me that the night everything blew up, she slept with Mark. They were both pissed and wanted revenge, I guess, but I wasn’t even upset. I didn’t care. But if it had been you, I…Nobody has ever had my heart the way you do.”

Tears stream down your face, but you refuse to acknowledge their existence. Chenle’s eyes are welled up, his jaw clenched tight once he finishes his words.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you choke out, turning away from him.

“I know,” he agrees without hesitation. “I know.”

He makes his way around the counter, and you take a step back.

“Please don’t touch me.” You shake your head.

“I won’t,” he murmurs, standing so close in proximity to you, you smell his cologne. The scent invades your senses, and you suddenly have trouble breathing.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

You recoil in shock for the second time in the past hour when he lowers himself to his knees. He looks up at you, totally defeated as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice catches in his throat. “I’m not asking for us to be together, and I’m not asking for anything close to what we had before. I just want us to be friends again. I need you in my life. No matter where that spot is.”

“God, Chenle, get off the floor.” You wipe angrily at the dampness on your cheeks.

“I need you. Please.”

When you look at him, you hate how you see him. How he looks like the Chenle you knew before all of this happened. The sight in front of you makes you want to kiss him and tell him you love him too, but you’re well aware all of this could be an act. Maybe he gave this same speech to Jia, and you’re the leftover—

“Jia’s gone. I promise. You’re more important to me, okay? Whatever you want or need, I’ll do it.” The pleading gleam in his gaze has your frozen heart slowly melting.

You can’t give in. Friendship could be good for the two of you, but if you give him anymore now, you fear it’ll be detrimental for you in the future.

“Friends. That’s it.” You watch him closely as the relief floods over him.

“Thank you.” He stands up and brushes his jeans off. “I won’t do that to you again. I fucking swear.”

“We’re not immediately going back to normal,” you tell him, confidently meeting his stare for the first time in a long time. “You have to prove yourself to me. That you care about me as a person and not as something to take your stress out on. No more out of place jealousy, no more butting into things that have nothing to do with you. Our past doesn’t exist anymore.”

“I’m not going to let you down,” Chenle insists. “I swear I won’t.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

One week later, 9:35 p.m., September 15th, 2023, Jaemin’s house

You arrived at the party by yourself, but the majority of the group was already there. Jaemin sees you first, letting out a loud cheer when he makes eye contact with you. It’s the first time you agreed to come out after everything that happened, so they all view it as a big deal.

You laugh as he hugs you, and then pulls you down to sit next to him. Thankfully, no one brings up what happened last month, and you’re able to have a good time with your friends without you feeling like they secretly pity you for all of the shit Chenle pulled.

Speaking of him, he hasn’t arrived yet, but you know he’s coming. He’d never miss one of Jaemin’s parties. That, and he told you this morning in his daily good morning text that he was excited to see you tonight. The entire week, you’d been in contact with him, and you almost hated how normal it felt to sink back into a friendship with him. It’s how you remember him before he started dating Jia, and all you can do is hope that it lasts.

In fact, his text was ‘good morning bighead, it’ll be nice to see you at jaem’s tonight.’

He’s clearly very eloquent.

Although, it did make you laugh. And respond back with how his head is much bigger than yours.

Your guard is still up. You don’t trust him. But it’s not like he can’t build that back by showing you he’s serious. As much as you hate to admit it, your hopes are up as high as the steel wall he’s pulling down piece by piece.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you tell Jaemin, who gives you a thumbs up and delves into a conversation with Haechan. Something about global warming, but you don’t stay around long enough to hear the entirety of it.

Once you return, you notice the extra person. Chenle arrived while you were in the kitchen, and the pain in your chest at seeing him is miniscule. You want him in all the ways you had him—more, even—but you know it’s best for both of you to work your way up. After all, he could still be lying. But seeing him alone and not with Jia also adds to your hopes—maybe he’s being serious. Maybe people can change, and you should give him the benefit of the doubt.

You make a bold move, a show of faith, perhaps, when you go sit down next to Chenle. There’s a decent amount of space between you two, but you don’t miss the way his smile widens.

The night rages on around you, but you’re acutely aware of the way Chenle gets a little closer to you with every drink one of you goes to get, and eventually, you’re laughing together while making fun of Jisung.

Everything is as it should be, and everytime Chenle’s not looking right at you, you’re smiling in his direction, knowing this is who he should’ve been all along.

11:32 p.m., September 17th, 2023, your apartment

“And then, Haechan said Mark and Jia are actually dating now.” Chenle’s voice travels through your phone resting on your chest while you stare up at the ceiling.

Without meaning to, you let out a laugh. “I mean, maybe it’ll work for them. They both deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He’s silent for a moment. “You, too, you know. You deserve to be happy.”

“Everyone does,” you reply. “Sometimes, good people do bad things, Le. I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

There’s shuffling on his end, like he’s settling in his blanket. “I’m glad to hear that. We haven’t really…talked about that much lately. It’s not a bad thing, ‘cause it’s probably best to shelve the past for now, but if you want to say anything to me, you don’t have to hold back.”

You contemplate. There are thousands of things you could tell Chenle right at this moment. You could tell him you’ve always loved him, too, or you could tell him how hurt you were. How he tore you up from the inside out and gave you no room to breathe. He infiltrated everything you had and turned it into his own personal playground.

God, you should be mad at him. You should hate him and hang up right now, but you won’t.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “I missed you, too. When you were gone. I’m glad you forced your way into my house with pizza to tell me everything. You were right, I was blaming myself for it.”

“Don’t ever blame yourself for my dumbass actions. I won’t lie to you, not anymore. Um, is it…okay if I ask you something?”

You frown, wondering if it’s a good idea. “Sure.”

“Did you ever feel more for me than friendship? Like when we were hooking up, did you mean all the things you’ve said to me?” He clears his throat, the tone of his voice clearly portraying his embarrassment.

“I’ve never lied to you,” you return, face heating up.

“Next time I see you, is it okay if I hug you?” Chenle whispers. “I miss you.”

“Yeah, I think that’s okay.” A tiny smile forms.

“Okay. I…I’m gonna go to sleep, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you soon?”

“Soon. Goodnight, Chenle.”

10:23 p.m., September 25th, 2023, Jisung’s house

You, Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin decided it’d be a good night to get together and watch a movie. Jisung has a theater room, so the four of you rest in there. You sit between Jaemin and Chenle, and you quietly let them know you’ll be back in a few minutes.

You go into Jisung’s fridge to grab a water bottle.

“Don’t you have a drink in there?” Jisung’s voice startles you, and you let out a gasp.

“Christ, Sungs, don’t sneak up on me like that.” You smack your hand over your heart. “Don’t you know that’s how you put people in cardiac arrest?”

“Dramatic.” Jisung snorts and grabs a bag of candy from a cupboard. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. It’s been a while since I got to talk to you, and I’ve noticed you and Chenle are friends again.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” You grab a piece of chocolate and unwrap it before putting it in your mouth.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re your friends, too.”

“Look, I’m not sure how much you know about what happened, but that’s all over. Chenle and I…started over. And we’re friends, and I’d very much like to keep it that way.” You sip your water to wash down your candy.

“Be honest, do you just want to be his friend?” Jisung raises an eyebrow at you.

You laugh. “That’s not really something you should be asking me.”

“I know him, okay? I’m trying to look out for you—”

“I appreciate it, Ji, but I also happen to know Chenle. When a man like him begs for forgiveness on his hands and knees, you give him a shot. I’m not dumb, and I know what that whole situation made me look like, but I never would’ve done anything to hurt Chenle’s relationship when he was in one.” You shift on your feet.

“He just won’t tell us what’s going on, and Mark and Jia aren’t your biggest fan—”

“Jisung, what the hell?” Chenle leans on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing?”

You recognize this tone of his, and you immediately look at him and shake your head. “It’s not a big deal, Chenle, he’s just—”

“No, it is a big deal. Is this why you invited us here?” He frowns at the younger man. “You thought if you couldn’t get answers out of me, you’d get answers from her?”

“Hey, man, it’s not like that.” Jisung holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just curious.”

“You really wanna know that bad?” Chenle steps in, planting his palms on the countertop.

“It’s really okay,” you whisper to him, going as far as to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“Yeah, I do. Because right now it looks like some girl is tearing apart our friend group.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t have to. I don’t care what they think.” You tug him gently, but he doesn’t look at you.

“It was me. I screwed everything up. (Y/N) and I were hooking up for over a year before I met Jia. And when Jia and I started dating, we obviously stopped that. But when she broke up with me, it was because I still had all of the conversations with (Y/N), and she was pissed about it. That night, I went to (Y/N)’s house and we slept together, and I lied to Jia again. Everything that went wrong was my fault, Jisung. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Jisung blinks in shock, lips parting as he glances between the two of you. You stare down at your feet, trying not to let the way he defended you seep beneath your skin. Chenle still has a lot of work to do, but you won’t lie and say it didn’t give him some brownie points.

“So why was she with Mark?”

“After I slept with her, I left the next morning when Jia called me. And then Jia asked me to block her, and I did. So all she was doing was honestly trying to forget about me, which is still her best bet.”

Your throat dries as the memories resurface, but even now, you see the difference. The Chenle who walked out on you never would’ve admitted that to another soul. He’s taking the fall. He’s taking accountability for his actions.

“Everything would’ve been fine if I hadn’t stormed up after them at Jaemin’s party. But I couldn’t stop myself, and everyone else there knew it, too.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry for assuming.” Jisung chews the inside of his cheek. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, Sungs.” You give him a small smile, but Chenle’s hand slides into yours, and the way he intertwines your fingers has your heart skipping.

“Let’s get out of here,” Chenle mutters. “I’ll drop you off at home.”

You nod once at Jisung and allow the other man to pull you out of his house. The car ride is mostly silent, the soft hum of music distracting you from the way Chenle still grips your hand over the center console. You catch a glimpse of him, the street lights reflecting off his skin as they pass.

God, all you want to do is love him. You want to throw caution to the fucking wind and tell him the truth. Allow him to hold you close and feel the warmth of his embrace.

He pulls up outside your building, looking at you with a soft, tired gleam in his pretty brown eyes.

“I’m really sorry,” he says. “Jisung shouldn’t ever have done something like that.”

“It’s okay. And not your fault. I’m aware of what the situation looks like to everyone else, but it’s not their business. Thank you for standing up for me.” You squeeze him gently.

“I’ll do it for as long as you let me,” he whispers.

In your tired, vulnerable state, the rest of that wall crashes to the ground.

“Come upstairs with me?” you ask. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I…” His eyes close and he rests his head back on the seat.

“I don’t mean it like that. I just want some company.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way. Please. But I can’t.” He forces the words out, palms running down his face. “I know you think you want that now, but I don’t want to risk you getting upset about it later. And part of proving myself is knowing when a decision will hurt you. I don’t trust either of us when it comes to being alone together in a room. Your bedroom especially.”

It stings, sure, but you know he’s right. Old habits die hard, and as soon as he’s in your bed, all bets are off.

You inhale shakily. “Right. Of course.”

“I want to.” His finger guides your chin up until you’re looking at him. He smiles softly. “I’ve missed you so much that I want to be with you all the time. But that’ll come with time when I know you really trust me fully.”

You lean across the center of the car and press your lips to his cheek, lingering for a second too long before pulling away and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Thank you, Le.”

He nods, watching you closely as you get out and head toward your building. You look over your shoulder once before entering.

His fingers trace over his skin where your lips just were, and relief has his chest deflating.

10:34 a.m., October 14th, 2023, a local coffee shop

Chenle sets a cup down in front of you before sitting down in the booth, resting his head on his palm. You type away on your computer, occasionally glancing up to him to see if he looks bored yet. He seems perfectly content, swirling his own drink around.

“So, what’s that for again?” he asks.

“Just a last minute report I’m typing out for work,” you reply absentmindedly. “Sorry, I’m almost done.”

“I’m not in any rush.” He chuckles and leans back.

You spend nearly every day with Chenle. The two of you have even graduated to spending time alone away from your other friends, and you love how much it feels exactly how it used to. The Chenle that left you has thankfully disappeared into the abyss, and your friend has come back. You two text every day, he buys you coffee, he teases you whenever he deems necessary.

As soon as you finish your report, you sigh in relief, save it, and close your laptop. “Thank you for the coffee. I definitely need it.”

“Anything that’ll give you enough energy for Jaemin’s Halloween party. What are you dressing up as?” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I still think we should coordinate.”

“I’m not telling you what I’m going as.” You stick out your tongue at him. “You’ll live.”

“Well, Jaemin wants me there early to help set up or whatever, so I will unfortunately just have to see you there.”

“Oh, that’s okay. The goal for tonight is to get as drunk as possible without blacking out.” You grin at him, to which he responds with a quirked eyebrow.

“Calm down there, bighead, you might hurt yourself.”

“Look on the brightside, if I get myself hurt, you get to swoop in and be my hero. Isn’t that exciting?” Despite the sarcastic drawl in your voice, Chenle shrugs.

“I’m supposed to save you from getting hurt, not just help you after the fact.” His phone starts ringing in his jacket, and once he grabs it, he groans. “Yeah, Jaemin?”

There’s a muffled sound from the device that has you laughing at the frantic yelling Jaemin is doing.

“It’s not even eleven yet,” Chenle points out. “I know I said I would help, but I didn’t think that meant twelve hours before the damn party starts.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “You should go!”

He glares at you and mouths, ‘not helping.’

After a few more garbled words, Chenle rolls his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes. You owe me, dude.” He hangs up the phone and gives you a guilty look.

“None of that.” You wave him off. “I need to get home anyway and take my daily rest.”

He snorts. “Alright. Come find me later, alright?”

“Well, duh. Who else is going to stop drunk me from making a fool of myself?”

12:54 a.m., October 15th, 2023, Jaemin’s house

The world spins around you, but the happiness you feel is unrivaled. You and Chenle dance together, where he twirls you in circles despite the beat not matching. He dressed up fairly simply, some dude that wears a trench coat and an odd looking hat, but for the life of you, you can’t remember the damn name.

You barely even recall what you’re dressed up as, but it’s something with a plaid-like skirt and a white top. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Not until you’re climbing up on the pool table for nostalgia’s sake, and Chenle’s practically begging you to come down.

“Your skirt is a little too short.” Chenle stands in front of you while you continue to dance.

“It’s Halloween, Chenle,” you remind him.

“In the nicest way possible, your costume isn’t exactly modest—why wouldn’t you put shorts on under that—”

The more you ignore him, the more he’s determined to get you to listen. He eventually climbs up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your eyes are stuck on his lips, but your vision is blurring a bit too much to tell if they look as good as you think they do.

You miss him. He’s touching you, the warmth of his body ironically freezing yours in its place.

“C’mon, get down.”

“I think you should get down on your—” The world swaying cuts you off, and despite his grip on you, you stumble.

He waves someone else over, and you recognize Luigi. You shake your head and blink, realizing that it’s actually Jaemin dressed up as Luigi. Giggling, you basically drop your head on Chenle’s chest.

“I thought he was really Luigi.” You laugh and smack his arm as if that’ll ground you.

Jaemin and Chenle are talking to each other, but you’re too invested in the way Chenle’s lips look when they move to care all that much on the topic. You allow Chenle to lead you to the edge of the table, and with Jaemin’s help, you’re back safely on the ground.

“I’m taking you home.” Chenle’s lips brush against your ear as he keeps his arm around you and guides you toward the door. The sensation sends a chill down your spine, and you know he feels it through where his fingers are splayed out along the small of your back.

Everything happens in a blur—getting into his car, him driving to your apartment, him bringing you upstairs from the car. By the time you’re home, you suddenly understand exactly what Chenle said about being alone with him in your apartment.

He looks divine. Angelic. And you’re weak, needy, and drunk.

“Lele,” you murmur, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom. “Help me take my makeup off.”

He follows you in. You know he’s weak for you, too. That it’s been so long since either of you have gotten any sort of satisfaction. You crave his touch, and the alcohol raging in your system does little to help with your inhibitions.

You bend over to grab your makeup wipes from beneath the sink, and you hear him shuffle behind you. Without another thought, you slide yourself on the counter and grab at his tie, tugging him close until he’s between your legs and pressing into you just enough to drive you crazy.

“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes dark as he takes in the situation. Your skirt riding up your thighs as you pull him closer, a short glimpse of the red lace beneath the skirt. You spread your legs a bit farther, craving to feel him right up on your lace-clad entrance.

“You have to get close to take makeup off,” you reply, giggling to yourself.

His jaw tightens, but he starts cleaning you up anyway, ignoring the way you periodically shuffle closer to the edge of the counter. When he’s almost done, you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your hips up.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, dropping what was in his hands. “(Y/N), let me finish taking your makeup off.”

You roll up once more, a soft groan leaving your lips. His hands dart down and push your thighs into the counter, halting your movements.

“C’mon,” you mumble, dropping your head against the mirror. “We both want it. You’ve been good, Lele, and I need you.”

Oh, Sober You was going to regret this. Sober You was going to kick your ass when the morning came, because you knew there’s no way Chenle’s not going to give in. The two of you are too addicted to each other not to.

He drops his head on your shoulder. “Baby, you’re drunk.”

“Please,” you whisper. “It’s been so long.”

“And we can wait a little longer,” he mentions, pushing your legs away from his waist. “Finish taking off your makeup. I’ll get you some clothes to change into.”

You groan when he disappears out of the room, but you listen to what he says. As much as your drunk mind allows you, you wash your face. When you get back to your room, he’s in a drawer you almost forgot was there. Stuff he’d left at your place, all stuffed into one tiny section of your dresser.

“C’mere,” he says to you.

You stop in front of him, the edges of your vision still blurred as you put your hand on his chest. Beneath your palm is an erratic thumping, and you know how much inner turmoil he’s dealing with.

“Chenle,” you murmur. “Help me.”

“Okay, I’ll help. Don’t move.” He untucks your shirt from your skirt, trying his best to avoid skin-to-skin contact with you. Pulling it over your head, he avoids looking down.

He reaches over for the shirt he took out of the drawer, but you grab his wrists, leading both of his hands down to your skirt.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m gonna tie you up in a very non-sexy way.”

You giggle, wavering a bit on your feet. “Just wanted you to see what I wore for you.”

“(Y/N), I don’t want to leave you like this but I can’t stay if you keep this up. I want you so fucking bad, but I refuse to do this while you’re this drunk.” He shakes his head. “Please.”

“We’ve had drunk sex,” you defend.

“Two things were different then, too. You actually wanted me while you were sober, and we were both equally drunk. I’ve barely had anything to drink.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Let me get you dressed so you can get some rest.”

“I do want you when I’m sober,” you continue defiantly.

“(Y/N), I’m not going to argue about this—”

“No, no.” You grab the shirt from him and put it on, almost smiling at the familiarity of wearing his clothes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, but everything is so confusing.”

“Confusing how?” The guilty look in his eye tells you he already has an idea.

Great. Here comes the part of the night where you cry violently.

Tears well up, and you sniffle. “You hurt me so badly.”

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“And a part of me knows that.” You’re sure your words are slurred, but he grips onto them like they’re his lifeline. You grip onto his stupid trench coat. “I want to believe it, but I’m so scared it’s gonna happen again, and then all of this is really over. I fucking love you, damn it.”

“I hope you know I love you, too.” His gaze glistens as he furrows his brows. “I’m gonna work so hard to be everything you need. Promise, I’ll never stop trying to be better for you.”

“How do I believe that?” Your voice breaks, and a tear falls down his cheek.

“I…I don’t know. Just let me continue to prove myself. That’s all I ask. We’ll stay just like this until you’re ready.”

You shake him, or try to, in your drunken state while you cry. “Why do I love you? It’d be easier if I didn’t.”

He wraps his arms around you and tugs you to his chest, heart pounding in his chest. For the second time, you break down. For the second time, you’ve put yourself in a position to give him the upper hand.

But for the second time, he doesn’t use it to his advantage.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to you, stroking the back of your head. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“What if I’m never ready?” You rock back and forth in his grasp.

“Then I’ll wait forever. I promise you. No matter how you want me in your life, I’ll be there.” He kisses the top of your head, attempting to calm his own breathing. “Baby, you’re drunk. Let’s get you in bed so you can rest.”

“Don’t leave me,” you mutter, holding him tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere. C’mon.”

You listen to him, but before you get beneath your blankets, you slide your skirt down your legs. Once you’re comfortable, he grabs some more clothes for him to change into, and then he’s climbing in next to you, pulling you flush to him and kissing your head again.

“I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.”

‘Forever’ is the last thought on your mind before sleep takes over.

11:48 a.m., October 15th, 2023, your bedroom

The first thing you note when you wake up is the splitting headache raging on in your brain. Next, is the warmth of another body half-draped over you. At the sound of your groan, Chenle shifts back a bit.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

“No.”

He chuckles. “Alright, well let me know when you’re ready to get up.” He pulls you closer again, allowing you to relax against his chest.

“Wait.” You pause. “How long have you been up?”

“Uh.” He ponders on it for a moment, fingers tapping on your back. “I don’t know. Maybe two hours. Or three.”

“You haven’t gotten up yet?” You frown, pushing away from him to force yourself to sit up. Immediately, you groan and smack your hand to your forehead.

“Not sure if you remember much from last night, but I figured it’d probably be worse for you to wake up without me than with me, so I just waited.” He rests his head on his palm, tilting a bit to look at you.

As soon as he mentions it, you curse yourself a thousand times over. You really fucked up, but he’s still here.

“I’m so sorry.” You cringe. “Everything yesterday was so…”

“Don’t be sorry. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. And it felt like we had a breakthrough last night, so there’s that.” He grabs your hand, thumb rubbing against your skin. “I told you I’d do whatever it takes and I meant it.”

He meant it.

Unintentionally, you’d given him the biggest test thus far, and he passed with flying colors. He even waited for you to wake up for hours so you wouldn’t be confused or upset by his absence.

“I’m ready.” Your words surprise him, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as he scans over you.

“You…”

“For more. I’m ready for more, Chenle. I want us to be more than friends.” You fidget with your hands. “We’ve always been more than that.”

“And you promise you’re not still drunk?”

You scoff and push his shoulder. “Way to ruin the moment, dick.”

“There she is.” He grins.

“I still want to take it slow,” you clarify. “But I want to try.”

“Is it too fast if I kiss you?” he asks.

You’ve kissed this man thousands of times, but something about his question still makes you blush.

“I think you’ve probably earned it after your torture session last night.” Your headache is long since forgotten when he playfully tugs you to him.

Both of you laugh until he grabs your face and presses his lips to yours. He moves so you’re flat on the mattress, his upper half leaning over you. You melt into his kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling it ever so slightly. His breath shudders, and you feel the urge to push further, to tell him nothing is too fast anymore.

He pulls away, shaking his head. “I’m taking you on a date. Go get ready.”

You go to get up, but halfway through the motion, he tugs you back to him to kiss you one more time. His mouth works gently on yours, and after a few seconds, he lets you go.

8:47 p.m., November 22nd, 2023, Chenle’s house

Chenle’s birthday party ended a little early, mostly of his own choice. You hadn’t planned on anything happening tonight between you two, but it’d been so long since you’d felt pure, absolute bliss just by being next to him. Every day you’ve spent with him has made you two closer. The trust you have for him has grown tremendously, and as soon as you make it back to his house, you shed your coat from your shoulders.

He grabs it from you, hanging it up before he wraps his arms around you. His eyes droop from the overactivity of the day, but it doesn’t erase the smile he has when he sees you. You press a quick kiss to his lips.

“This is the best birthday ever,” he says, hands resting on your hips. “I love you.”

“We still have a few hours of your birthday left. It could go horribly wrong, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it will if you don’t tell me you love me back right now.”

You laugh, shaking your head at him. “I do love you back.”

“Oh, good to know.” He nods, squeezing you.

“Kiss me like you mean it, bighead.”

“That’s my nickname for you, get your own.” He rolls his eyes, but abides by your request.

His lips meet yours, an automatic sigh escaping you as your back arches you closer to him. You hold onto him tightly, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip. He gladly grants you access, but it’s an instant battle for dominance between the two of you.

You barely even recognize him walking you backward until you're against the wall. With a gasp, you pull away from him, his face still centimeters from yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Don’t stop.”

His curse is muffled by your skin, but his grip tightens on you. He pulls you away from the wall, allowing his hands to venture down to your ass. You whine when he squeezes.

“This is a very bad joke if that’s what’s happening.” He nips your collarbone. “Are you sure?”

You move away from him, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind both of you, immediately pulling you back to him and meeting your mouth with his. The need radiating from him has your stomach doing backflips. You want him just as badly, and all you want to do is pleasure him.

“Lay down, baby.” He sits you down on the edge of the bed, guiding you until he’s kneeling in front of you.

“Chenle, what are you—”

He flips your skirt up, hands trailing along your thighs, skimming the hem of your lace panties.

“You smell so fucking good, baby. Let me taste it. Please.” His eyes flick up to yours, eyebrows raising.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Best fucking birthday meal ever.”

He waits for you to nod before he practically rips the fabric from your body. His head disappears beneath your skirt, and before you know it, his tongue nudges your clit. That’s the only warning you get before he really begins.

He licks up your entrance, lapping at it like a man starved. You haven’t been touched this way in months, and it takes all of your self control not to buck your hips up against his face. The sound of your wetness fills the room, the heat making you squirm beneath him. Your skirt covers him, when all you want to do is see how much he’s enjoying himself. Fisting the sheets, you whine and cry out for him, rocking back and forth as he brings you closer and closer. Lewd sounds are muffled by the clothing you still wear, the suction between your legs making you shake.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

The next thing you know, two of his fingers slide inside you, the movement quick and easy with the way your wetness slicks even the skin of your thighs.

“Gonna make you cum like this first.” He kisses your clit as he pumps his hand faster. “Then over and over again on my cock.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up and grinding on his tongue. He mirrors the sound with his lips on your core, and that’s what’s enough to finally push you over the edge. Thankfully, you’re not in an apartment right now, otherwise your neighbors would be getting a free show when you scream out his name as you finish.

You squirm under him, the only thing holding you down is the dig of his nails into your thighs. When he pulls away, his face shines with your arousal, and your insides clench down all over again. You’ve never wanted him inside you as much as you do right now, and you make it your mission to get him on the bed.

“God, pretty girl, I wanted our first time together to be sweet, but I’ve never wanted to fuck you this bad.” He pulls your shirt over your head, pushing you back until you’re flat on his mattress. He tugs your skirt down, grabbing handfuls of your breasts and squeezing.

“Me too.” You nod. “Just don’t stop.”

He pulls his shirt off, pushing his jeans and boxers down in one go before he climbs over you. Your mouths clash messily, his teeth bumping yours, but it does nothing except add to the aching need you have for him. When he situates himself between your legs, you wrap them around his waist and roll until you’re on top.

You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. He groans quietly, thrusting into your hand. You rub the tip along your entrance to gather your juices.

“I’m not gonna last long with you on top of me,” he admits.

“Funny that you think you’re only gonna cum once tonight.” You barely give him time to process your words before you sink down on him. Moaning, you take him slowly, relishing in the stretch of your walls.

“Fuck, look at you.” He scratches down your thighs. 

You give yourself a moment to adjust once he’s fully sheathed in your hole, moving your hands up to squeeze your breasts and tweak your nipples as you grind down. Sounds spill past your lips, and you almost get lost in your own pleasure. When you see Chenle, his eyes are barely open, dark with lust as he thrusts up.

Your walls throb around him, squeezing his cock so hard you feel the way he pulses inside you. Arching your back and resting your palms on his thighs, you start moving on top of him. 

“So wet,” he whispers. “You’re soaking me.”

You move faster, the sounds of your arousal emanating around the room. Chenle’s hands find your breasts, flicking your nipples much like you’d done to yourself. Then he reaches between your legs, the arch of your body giving him perfect access to your clit.

“‘M gonna cum.” He drops his head back on the bed, thumb faltering against your sensitive bud. “Fuck, fuck.”

A loud moan escapes him, and the next thing you know, he’s coating your insides with his release. 

“Damn it,” he whispers. “‘M sorry, baby, I tried to hold it back.”

You put your hands on his chest, rolling your hips until he groans from the overstimulation.

“It’s okay.” You grin at him. “It’s your birthday, Le. We can have as many rounds as you want. Plenty of time to redeem yourself.”

He chuckles breathlessly, sitting up to pull you into his embrace. Kissing all over your face, he rolls you over so you’re on your back before sliding out of you.

“You asked for this,” he reminds you. “Don’t forget that later when you’ve finished so many times you don’t even remember your name.”

He meant it, too.

9:18 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

The chill of the ice cube in his mouth trailing down your body, over your breasts, even the brief few seconds he presses it against your clit, has your body shuddering at the slightest touch. The melted water left behind has goosebumps forming on your skin as he worships your body.

Thin black fabric covers your eyes, leaving every touch of his a mystery to you. The coldness is a drastic contrast to the heat of your core, and the ice cube coming in contact almost has you yelping in pain. His fingers slide back inside you, and you swear you’re slowly losing your mind. You can’t stop moaning, each sound surely making him more than proud of himself.

It’s not long before you’re writhing beneath him all over again, your arousal pouring out over the sheets as he brings you to your euphoria.

9:28 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

“That’s it, pretty girl, take it all,” he hums as you take him in your mouth. You sit on your knees beside the bed where he sits, bobbing your head up and down with the assistance of the makeshift ponytail he grips in his fist.

He hisses as he pushes you down further until his cock is seated deep in your throat, the constriction of it making him bite his lip to stop the sounds. The steady pace he sets for you has tears forming in your eyes, the choking amplifying his pleasure.

“So, so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He tugs your hair to make you moan around him. “Taking me like a good girl. I love you, pretty.”

His eyes roll back, and he quickly pulls you off him, your hollowed cheeks making a popping sound.

“Lay down, baby,” he instructs you.

10:01 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

His chest slides against yours, low, quiet moans escaping both of you as he finally makes love to you like he wanted to in the first place. Your fingers are intertwined together as his hips meet yours over and over again, sweet words whispered in your ear.

He pushes in completely, his tip kissing your cervix, and a tiny yelp escapes your lips.

“You like when I’m so deep, don’t you?” He nips your ear. “You’ll never be empty again. Can fill you with my cock whenever you want.”

“Chenle,” you whimper, your mind cloudy from however many orgasms he’s given you. You’re much too sensitive, but you still don’t want it to stop.

Your body is caked with sweat, but his is worse. His hair clings to his forehead, wet strands not a deterrence to the way he keeps thrusting into your still sopping cunt. This is what heaven feels like—the pleasure delivered to you by Chenle is peak. You’ll never feel like this with anyone but him.

His finger rubs circles on your clit, and as you shatter around him, it brings him to his end as well, filling you up for the second time tonight. By the look in his eyes, you know it won’t be the last.

11:59 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

Your body aches, but the last thing you want is for him to stop. He holds you close to his chest despite the unbearable heat between you two, hips lazily moving as he grips onto your leg wrapped around his waist.

Your moans have turned into quiet sighs of pleasure, your insides melted into practically nothing with the amount of times he’s finished in you. Nothing matters anymore, just you and him and the way your bodies stick together.

His lips lock with yours, and his movements stop altogether as he gently kisses you. Eventually, that stops too, leaving his mouth resting on yours, as your tired gazes meet.

“I love you,” he whispers. “More than you know.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him, giving him one last kiss.

Exhaustion creeps upon both of you, too tired to move any further as you bury your head in his chest.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmurs.

“You already said that.”

“It got even better, so.”

Everything about this feels right. You curled up in his chest, and despite him still inside you, you’ve never felt more comfortable than you do right now.

And in the morning, Chenle wakes you up with kisses all over your face, and everything within the world is right.

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Idia and Ortho - Sebek and Silver

The dark figure in our dorm's yard was unmistakable, and like in his prior appearances, I jogged to him as soon as I noticed.

- VDC you say? Are you actually trying to invite me to this?- - Why yes...The boys have been working hard, I assure you, it's stunning! And well... As fun, as it is following your "Will-o'-the-wisp", I would like to be around you a bit more. - and hastily added - Only if you want to of course! -

Much as his Fae companion, Tsunotarou laughed at my expenses leaving me with my lingering smile and owlish confused eyes. - You really seem to know no fear. - he smiled broadly - Very well. I humbly accept your invitation.- and I smiled satisfied.

- Will you be going on stage? - - Ah no! I'm their "Manager", as Vil likes to call me. - - Mmm a shame...- I chuckled flustered - Crowley didn't want to risk other schools finding out I'm a girl. You never know what could ever happen. Ha ha ha - - Mm yes I can see the risks. Lilia told me he discovered it as well. -

Thinking back to each event I recalled the surprise on everyone, and feeling a little insecure I asked - ...Tsunotaro, you think...Am I perhaps...not feminine enough? - he threw me a weird look - I-I mean, nobody ever noticed till seeing my... More prominent features. And is not like I'm going out of my way to hide it! So you know...- and I scratched the back of my head.

He hummed and smiled beautifully - No, I think you're plenty. - his words without an inch of tease - I think the beauty of your femininity is enhanced by your boyish charm.- ... - Wai..what!? - - I'm looking forward to the day of the show Goodnight (Yuu).- *puff* and he left me standing in a blushing mess.

- Tsunotaro thinks I am beautiful...- I sighed dreamily - and he looked happy, I'm glad.-

Trope

A couple of days before the culture fair I made my way to Mr. S's Mystery Shop - Gooood morning Sam! How is it going? - - Hello (Yuu), very well thank you. Radiant as always are you? hahaha. - - Of course! My delivery has yet to arrive? - I scanned the shelves. - The pile is right there next to the Grimoire. - he pointed. - You almost caught them this time. -

- Uff... they're so... slippery. They've been so kind to sell all those manga for such a low price. I would really like to thank them face to face. - - They are elusive indeed. - commented Sam - Sorry, but he begged me multiple times not to say a word. - and winked. He wasn't sorry at all, he just enjoyed seeing my frustration. - Yeah yeah... I'm not here just for those; 'must refill our team. - and I handed him the grocery list.

---

- Another pile? - Commented Grim. - I know right?- completely missing his point. - And for like 500 Madol??? - - Shopping again Trickster? - I nodded happily to Rook - Have you seen them this time? - - Nah. Again, they ran away before my arrival. - I climbed the stairs to pose my new collection - And it's so frustrating! Sometimes they go for an hour via chat. Talking about what I should watch or read, his thoughts and theories. But then, they shut down completely saying stuff like: "Sry I'm such an otaku lmao bye.'" and then avoid me for days. -

- Would you like me to do a little research? - asked the hunter with a sharp smile. -...no...thank you for...the thought. I guess. - I patted his shoulder awkwardly. What I didn't know then was that he already discovered the identity of my seller long before. - But why give away all those books anyway? - pondered Grim. - Apparently bought a stock and he already owned some of them. "I must share the words of those artworks for the greater good". Something like that. -

---

On the day of the festival, me and Grim joined the booth check team. Entered the boardgames club exhibit we found a tall boy with long hair like flames sulking in a corner of the class. - Ahh, two hours left until the research presentation...- -... Idia, what are you doing at a place like that? - frowned Riddle. - It's called anxiety. - I mumbled.

- Uwah!!! Riddle master!!! Why are you here? - he jumped. - M-master? - - Fist of steal even outside the dorm eh? - I nudged the redhead on the side. He frowned at me and taking advantage of his distraction I saw the awkward boy nodding profusely. - Are you ready for the research presentation?- turned back the little tyrant. - Y-you don't have to worry. Just wait and see. - responded the other.

I stared for a moment in thought, making him even more fidgety than before - Are you perhaps... Ortho's brother? - - Sigh... *Eh-hem Y-yes. - he exhaled relieved. - 'Knew it I saw somewhere that blue hair! I have to say, after seeing him "draw a sword" defending your honor at the VDC auditions, I was very curious about meeting you. - - I-well-there's n-nothing i-i-interesting aab-b-bout m-me...I CAUGHT THE INTEREST OF A NORMIE IKEMEN????? - he mumbled hiding from my view.

- Riddle Roseharts, Trey Clover, Grim, hello! Of course, I'll always be there for Nii-san, he's a genius, (Yuu) (Wander)! - appeared the brother in question before I could protest the title of normie. - (YUU) (WANDER)??? - Idia jumped back but quickly covered his mouth and his back faced us all for a second time. He sneaked a look from his shoulder, caught my eyes, and the flames on his head turned pink. My companions looked me over questioningly, but seeing my expression just as confused, they searched for answers in his most trusted subject.

*Blank stare.* - W-well...*eh-hem Hi Ortho! I'm sure you speak the truth about your brother, I'm looking forward to hearing the...- - ...(Yuu) (Wander) - interrupted me once more in a softer tone. The four of us stared back and forth at the pair in search of answers.

- But it's great! - suddenly quipped Ortho. - Nii-san don't you understand? Is like in that Shojo where the girl in disguise in the boy academy becomes friends with her crush and...- - W-W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ORTHO??? - The floating boy started to chant robotically. - (Yuu) (Wander) has sent at 09:45 a.m., Friday 2...- - I KNOW WHO HE IS BUT WHAT GIRL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??? - - (Yuu) (Wander), student at Night Raven College, is a non-magical human being. Gender Female, height...-

- Stooop - I interrupted the chaotic theatric playing before our eyes. - 1, How was I unaware of sending messages to...you... - but the teenager was no longer with us, his soul probably left his body, and the now empty shell lay on the ground stiff...- ...and 2, when did you find out about me, Ortho? Being a girl that is. - I got closer to check on the dorm's leader's well-being. Tho, sensing my nearby presence he recovered immediately and ran out in a string of apologies. His hair turned a Barbie pink.

- I... Hope his presentation goes well. The magic, engineering that he specialized in has a lot of interesting articles about modern magic. So let's hope this...predicament hasn't caused too much brain damage. - pondered Riddle. - I'm a bit worried, but I'm sure he is going to recover. - and the little Sheoud turned back to us.

- So... What just happened exactly? - trailed off Grim. - You asked: 1, how were you unaware of sending messages to my brother? Nii-san has been chatting with (Yuu)San under the nickname of "Gloomy Samurai" in the second-hand shopping app: Twyst. - *GASP! I reacted dramatically - He was my generous dealer!!!! - - What was he dealing to you??? - Riddle panicked already picturing me falling into the drug club. - One launched Man, flexible cover edition from 01 to volume 23, Junior High attack, redesigned edition, flexible cover, complete... - - Mangas Riddle, Mangas. - I reassured.

- And for number 2: I scanned and stored your physical information when we met the first time. - he confessed nonchalantly. - That's... Fascinating intimidating. - I commented, eyes wide open. - And what was that Shojo girl in a boy academy... - teased Trey. - Please Ortho, don't answer that.- I flashed the green-haired boy a sharp gaze.

I had the impression Gloomy Samurai would've shut me down completely from this day on, and if before there was little possibility of him wanting to meet up in RL, now... stupid to even take it into consideration. - Say Ortho, what's your brother's favorite food? - If I couldn't thank him with me present physically or digitally, a gift would've sufficed.

Title

- TSUNOTARO????? - Sebek was in a tantrum.

- You too? - I murmured in disbelief once they finished their back and forth - Tsunotaro, can I confirm a suspicion of mine? - he smiled and nodded curious about what was going on in that small brain of mine. - This is just a stretch... But is it perhaps that you are searching gazes different from "Mighty prince" or "Terrifying magic user"? I mean why come to a public school otherwise right? -

His faithful knight threw again insults, but the subject himself stayed quiet. Silence needed to be fulfilled for my brain to function so I rumbled even more, in search of an understandable response from the boy - You know,...People can be so focused on What we are, instead of the Who. I mean I thought of it because I saw in us some similarities...Of course, is totally on a different level and type,...but, you know,... I can see a behavior change when my friends discover I'm a girl. And it's...- - WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT??? - Sebek screamed and became a blushing mess.

Silver widened his eyes in realization. - The infirmary, it wasn't a dream...- and pink gradually made its way on his face. I flew a hand on my mouth. - I got lost in my thoughts. - Malleus petted my hair chuckling while Grim clapped his paws with a flat face - It could've gone worse - I enquired to the cat - It could've rained...- I joked nervously.

- NOW EVERYTHING IS CLEAR! You have been luring our master! - screamed Sebek - That's why he has permitted you so much! For sure, under that innocent cute look, you're hiding some secret spell, seducing him you little witch. And grumble, grumble, grumble... - - I would take this as offense honestly - I murmured to the prince. - I would take that as a compliment, cute innocent witch, fufufufu.- he teased.

After recovering from my blush, he was still on fire with his ranting. So I decided to suffocate it with my trashing around - Doll, I'm not stealing your man dah. - - Wha...- As I predicted, his voice died stunned. - Not this again...- groaned Grim recalling the joke Catfights between me and my ginger friend.

- This relationship is completely consensual. - I gestured, and perplexed but very amused Malleus nodded - See? And now, look at ya. - I returned to Sebek - Chasing after him, seeking attention - and with a click of my tongue I concluded - so desperate. - - You... Never stop to surprise me child of man. -

---

Earthquake magnitude 6.2 in the Isle of Sages Possible causes: tectonic plates moved by repeated sound waves with abnormal peaks of decibels. Location: Night Raven Collage.

---

They say that I'm a witch And that I weave a spell Well, I'll be a son of a I don't know what Well, let me tell you brother I'd rather be burned as a witch than never be burned at all (I'd rather be burned as a witch - Eartha Kitt)

*Eh-hem so... What happened? - inquired Crowley. Both me and Ruggie despite the clear frustration of the headmaster, sat nonchalantly, being confident in our innocence.

~

I roamed my eyes on one of the topper shelves in the library holding on a ladder to reach them better. - What are you doing up there (Yuu)? - I heard a whisper from the ground. - Oh! Hi Ruggie! Just searching for my way home. What about you? - Maybe I could find some documents about magical transportation or alternative universes. - Ehmm okay(!?) Me? Same usual, Leona's chores. I'm taking some books for him or he'll just forget to do his research. - - Lazy ass... - I snorted reaching for another book. - Leona. That's who he is. *Shshshsh.-

His eyes then darted down. On the topic of asses. - *Eh-hem... Can you lend me a hand? I think I saw one of the books I need up there. - - Oh sure! Which one?- I responded. - There on the third, no no the fourth down,... Yep, A little more on the right...- - This one? - I glanced back. - No no the other one on the left. *Shshshhshs -

Yep, TOTALLY looking at the books.

* SBAM I jumped down. - AARGH DON'T HIT ME! - and neither of us expected the disaster after that.

~

- That's what you get looking at my boogie! - - YOU WERE TRYING TO THROW THAT BOOK AT ME! I can't believe you chicks! Thinking you have permission to use violence on men, am I right? - - NO I WASN'T! I just jumped down, You scared off yourself and hit the shelf on your own!... And don't deflect!!! You were the one scheming to... -

- SILENCE!!! - Crowley's strong voice covered both of ours. - Ruggie. - he called out sternly. The ears of the hyena were now flat waiting for the worse. - By "chicks" you mean,...girls? - he then trailed his eyes on me with that scary glowing gaze of his. Ruggie thought about it for a while and then smirked. - Yes. I meant girls. - he probably thought the Crow would get too distracted, so he could make a run out of his disaster. - That's quite an interesting predicament (Yuu)... Didn't I warn you to take secrecy? How is that this dear student know?-

- You... Didn't know, headmaster? - I blinked confused. - Know what? - I caught him unprepared. - *ps... What are you doing???- whispered-yelled Ruggie. Sure, he wanted for me to be scolded for HIM knowing, but he didn't expect... - I thought either Azul told you or you had noticed already. - I responded. - Aw. That's nice! It means they really did maintain the secret. - I reached the ahs blonde boy and patted his cheek. - I have such good friends! - - H-hey!It's because there was no advantage in telling anybody.- Embarrassed, he drove my hand away.

- (Yuu).- - Yes? - - EXPLAIN. NOW -

Finished this series!!!! Ruggie was with Silver the less brought up in the "discovery timeline", so I thought it might've been nice to include them a little more with two mini stories (Silver's is in part 3).

Malleus, on the other hand no, he didn't need more timing. But my simping for him did.

I hope you had a fun time with lil old me! Wish you the best, 'till next time! ✨💙

[engeorged]

In Good Hands?

Author's note: This is my attempt to write a ghost story, inspired by some of the amazing artwork out there featuring ghost hands. Also, I can't find a way to naturally explain what Yann looks like in the story, but as I'm writing to him, I'm picturing him as something akin to John Krasinski. Very tall and unconventionally handsome but with a killer bod underneath his scruffy clothes. Hope that helps?

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

Day One

As part of my dissertation on paranormal activity in domestic properties I’ve searched the internet and found the most haunted airbnb that I could find. This is my diary to document my experiences whilst I live here for 3 months. It might be helpful at this stage to list some of the reported sightings that I have come across so far. Then that might give us some helpful data, post study 

1) Several reports of items moved around the house. Mostly furniture and food items found in unusual places

2) Numerous accounts of noises and banging, often around meal times

3) Sightings of ‘ghost hands’ in several places on the property. These are mainly visual sightings with a few vague physical encounters. Interestingly all the people who encountered the hands touching them didn’t want to elaborate. 

4) One person reported feeling uncomfortable when undressing, as if they were being watched

An unusual observation is that so far, all witnesses are male. Normally, the majority of spectral anomalies that are reported are from female witnesses so this is something to ponder as we go forward.

I have set up my equipment around the house with several cameras and heat detectors. I will endeavour to report on a daily basis

Day Two 

Nothing so far. I did wake up in the night to a banging but then discovered a cat had gotten into the property and wanted letting out.

Day Three. 

Again, no actual sightings and no recorded 'feelings' around the house. There have been none of the sensors going off and no recordings on the equipment. The only unusual thing so far was two pizza deliveries to the house that I didn’t actually order. I expect that to be the neighbourhood kids having a laugh. They were paid for though?

Day Four

I’m not sure how to report this but in the spirit of scientific advancement I will forgo my own embarrassment. 

After eating two large pizzas yesterday I woke up in the night needing to go to the bathroom to relieve myself. Stumbling through the house naked in the dark I found the toilet and proceeded to use the facility. The light wasn’t working and so I used the light on my phone to find the paper. I was a little sleepy and disoriented but in hindsight I think someone, or something, handed me the paper. It wasn’t hanging on the wall  anyway and I think it was actually held out for me. I didn’t really notice this at the time but as I was wiping myself clean I stood up to flush and felt a hand grab my left ass cheek and squeeze it firmly. 

I’m not ashamed to say that I ran pretty quickly from the bathroom. It wasn’t till I got to my room that I thought to check the cameras. I was now fully awake and checked everything but with no luck. The camera facing the bathroom was also powered down. I think I need to get the batteries checked. 

Once I calmed down I recorded my findings and headed back to sleep. A promising start

Day Five

It's been an interesting day. Pizzas have been arriving pretty much every hour alongside grocery orders. None of which I’m ordering. I’m starting to wonder whether they are more than just pranks. There is a phone in the house and when I pressed the redial button it connected me to the same pizza place. They were pretty busy and refused to give out order details for data protection purposes, but they guy did ask if I was having some sort of party. 

I’ve been grazing on the pizzas all day. (An important piece of data for later) It was later on in the evening when I was setting up some more equipment and I hadn’t quite realised how much pizza I’d eaten until I felt my belt digging into my lower belly. I’m pretty naturally toned and so it was noticeable. (I’m recording this factually for the study but please understand that’s not a brag)

As I stood up I realised how bloated my stomach was and so I stretched and went to take my belt off. When my hand went to my belt it brushed past another hand also holding my belt. I slowly moved my hands away and looked down. A fairly large male hand was resting on the belt buckle. As I watched, it undid the buckle for me and slid the belt out of the loops and landed on the floor. The hand reached back round, undid my button and then moved up to my lower abdomen where it rested on my belly for a few seconds before dissipating into the air. I physically felt the hand on my skin and it was cool but felt very corporeal.

No more encounters that day.

Day Six

Despite my efforts I have had no more encounters today and no more pizza orders. 

Day Seven

For the sake of the research I endeavoured to repeat day five’s conditions. I had stashed the pizza in the fridge and so tried to eat the same amount I ate on that day. The results were the same and my stomach was yet again visibly distended. I waited for a while in the same room with my belt dowe up and no further encounters. After an hour I decided to call it a night and head off to bed. I was a little surprised to find several pizza boxes in my bed when I got there. There was no sign of the hand and I hadn’t heard any movement. I placed the pizza on the floor and got ready for bed. Still no sightings. I set up an extra camera to track any activity and turned the lights off. Almost immediately I felt rapid movement in the bed and turned the light back on to find all the pizza boxes back on my bed. 

I moved them back to the floor and turned the lights off and yet again they arrived back in my bed. This repeated four more times until the final time when not only did the pizza end up in my bed but one slice found its way into my mouth. I turned the lights back on and found the hand resting on the pizza slice. I took a bite and began to swallow. The hand then waited patiently for me to chew and swallow and then proceeded to feed me the rest of the slice. It paused briefly in the air before yet again dissipating. 

I am left wondering if this apparition is trying to feed me up? I felt no malice towards me and no sense of anger or unrest. Perhaps I need to allow it to do what it wants and see where we get?

Day Eight

Throughout the day, the hand appeared to me several times. Usually during meal times and when I have been in any state of undress. It made no attempt to feed me but did bring me sauces and a few times put additional food on my plate. The hand has not shown up on the cameras but you can definitely see the objects it’s moving. I’m not sure if that will be enough proof though as it does look like I’ve edited it myself. One thing of note is that It tried to help me clean myself in the shower and if I’m being completely objective it actually just sort of felt me up. It was as if it was pretending to help but in actual fact was touching my ass and stomach area. Its touch was gentle but inquisitive? I felt as though I was being explored by something benevolent. 

Day Nine

More of the same today. The hand is getting bolder. Touching me more and bringing me more food throughout the day. I’ve been eating as much of it as I can to appease it but honestly it’s a lot of food. I’m struggling to eat it all. After dinner I was pretty much maxed out and crashed on a sofa. I left my belt to see if the hand would undo it for me and lo and behold it did. This time after undoing my belt and top button it slid up my shirt underneath and began to massage my belly for me. I have to say, for the record, that it was actually very pleasant. I can usually eat a lot but I’d lost track of how much I’d had that day and my normally flat stomach had quite a curve to it. The massage lasted for a good 20 mins and I think I had actually nodded off. 

I awoke with a start to find the hand was joined by a second. The left hand, also male. I wasn’t surprised to see both of them had food. I opened my mouth to see what would happen and the sandwich the right hand was holding was pushed in straight away. It was a little firmer than last time and more insistent but I obediently chewed and swallowed. I think the massage actually helped and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I was a little hungry!

The left hand brought me a hotdog and began alternating offerings. Not long after, both the sandwich, and hotdog were gone. I waited to see what would happen next. The right hand continued to rub my distended stomach and the left hand appeared with a large pitcher of beer. I would guess maybe four pints worth. I was a little taken aback but the jug lurched towards me and pressed to my lips. I didn’t really have a choice but to swallow as the liquid began to flow. I kept swallowing whilst the other hand continued to massage my expanding stomach. I settled into a pace with no let up from the hand pouring the beer. I was beginning to feel totally maxed again as the foamy beer kept coming. I tried to move the hand but it wasn’t budging. I had no choice but to swallow until the beer was gone. The pitcher fell to the floor and the second hand joined its twin in massaging my bloated stomach. They had at this point pulled my shirt up revealing my distended gut. They were firm but gentle and I can’t lie, it felt really good. As I lay there I couldn’t help but feel safe. Like I was in good hands (if you’ll pardon the pun)

The attention lasted for a good half hour and again, in the interests of recording all the detail, I think they actually got rid of all my gas. The beer and food combo made me belch a lot and the hands seemed to be getting them up. Even giving my stomach a little tap after a good burp. And then just like that they were gone. Leaving me like a beached tourist after a buffet.

I have several questions around the intentions of the hands and why they are so set on feeding me? Is this something that others have experienced? There was no mention of this in the reports I have. Maybe I should contact some of the people who have stayed here and ask some specific questions. I’ll have to word them carefully?

I will have to do this in the morning as I can’t quite think straight whilst I’m this full. 

Day Ten

After the events of the previous evening I slept in until midday. I wasn’t disturbed in the night but I awoke to the smell of coffee and pastries. Heading downstairs I discovered a set table with the hands poised on the back of the chair. After sitting down I attempted to eat the offering but the right hand gently held me back whilst the left proceeded to feed me the croissants. I didn’t think I could be hungry after last night but I managed to eat everything I was given. The hands then disappeared. 

Throughout the day at regular intervals they would appear and continue where they left off. A brunch of poached eggs and avocado, lunchtime sandwiches. Afternoon tea and a main meal of steak and chips. The meals they present are hearty and as the day wore on I struggled more and more with the portions. The hands remain gentle yet firm, I haven’t resisted them yet but I’m not sure what would happen if I did. For now I will oblige as what I am recording is unprecedented in this field. I am yet to capture them on film but I am seeing interesting readings in the infrared spectrum. I need to keep tweaking but I wonder if this data will help me modify a camera to get some footage. 

Heading to bed I half expected more food but as I lay on my bed, my distended belly loudly digesting my feast, the hands appeared one final time to explore my body. The previous encounters had been purely massages of my abdomen or a cheeky squeeze of my ass, but this time the hands started there but quickly covered the rest of my body over. I’m not sure if they are turning into a sexual encounter or not. They have not touched any private areas but the intention of the massage definitely felt more intrusive. I have to admit that I was beginning to feel quite aroused during the whole experience. 

Day Eleven

More of the same today. The hands fed me an even larger breakfast of pancakes, brunch, lunch and two afternoon meals. I wasn’t sure my stomach could take any more when I discovered my evening meal. I walked into the kitchen to find the dining table was filled with what looked like a meal for four! A whole roast chicken dinner was laid out on the table with all the trimmings. I felt a little sick just looking at it. My gut was still packed full from the whole day's feeding sessions. I hesitated at the door, wondering what to do when the hands appeared behind me and gently pushed me forward toward the banquet. They weren’t aggressive but I definitely didn’t have a choice but to move. When I reached the chair the hands pushed down on my shoulders and indicated to me to sit. They set about unbuttoning my shirt and removing my belt, which I allowed. The left hand began to massage my stomach, which I also allowed. (They are very good at massaging my stomach when it feels super stuffed and full). I decided to resist slightly to see what would happen. I spoke to the hands to tell them politely that I wasn’t really hungry this evening after all the food they had already given me. This didn’t deter them in any way as the right hand pulled off a chicken leg and brought it to my mouth. I shook my head and politely declined. The leg stayed in front of my face. We waited for a little while in a bit of a standoff. It was even more unexpected then, that the left hand then reached round to my side and began tickling me. It was so out of the blue that I opened my mouth to laugh out loud. At that point the chicken leg made it straight into my mouth. I bit off a mouthful and laughed, I submitted to their feeding yet again. This time the hands were much more persistent and felt even more attentive. As I ate, they paused to give more belly rubs, and would move me when I slouched or needed to belch. At one point they even tipped my forward and rubbed my back to help me belch which also made me laugh. 

I was so busy trying to keep track of what they were doing that I didn’t notice I had eaten the whole meal. The moment of realisation was as I saw the hands withdraw and I saw all the plates were empty. I looked down at my stomach and saw how distended I was. It was as if I had swallowed half a basketball. In fact that’s inaccurate. It felt more like half a bowling ball. 

The hands seemed very happy with what they had accomplished and did a small clap as I tentatively gave my own stomach a quick explore. The fullness at that point hit me and I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I tried to stand up but they stopped me. I began to protest but soon found my mouth full with beer. The pitcher from the previous evening had been brought back out and they were pouring it down my throat. I had no choice but to swallow or choke but the pressure of the beer in my stomach was increasingly difficult to handle. I tried to push it out of the way but the hands kept on pouring. As the pitcher was finished I coughed and sputtered and pushed one more time and the now empty glass jug flew across the room and shattered against the wall. The hands immediately began to make me stand and I began to worry that they were angry but I was yet to feel that from them. They helped me get to my room and almost laid me down on the bed. 

As I lay there they began to undress me. Pulling my trousers down and taking my already open shirt off my back. I lay there bloated and aching only in my underwear and socks. The hands began again exploring my tightly packed abdomen. Tracing the curve of its distended rise and gently massaging some of the aches out. I closed my eyes and let them continue. At some point I must have drifted off to sleep but when I awoke the following morning I was in the same position but totally naked. My stomach had gone down some from the previous evening but I was still pretty distended. 

From a scientific viewpoint I am incredibly excited about the results I’m getting. An encounter like this has never been fully documented. I feel like Davies exploring the Antarctic for the first time. This will be groundbreaking research into the paranormal and may even get me a full residential post. 

But from a human perspective I am totally baffled as to what is happening. Ghost hands have taken a shine to me and are regularly and consistently stuffing me full of food and giving me sensual massages. What the actual fuck is going on. And I’m being totally honest with myself, they are actually starting to feel really good? I'm finding myself looking forward to encounters with the hands. I sense they are intrigued by me and that they are also enjoying this as much as I am. There seems no mal-intent and nothing malignant about what’s happening. From a purely detached perspective, I need to understand if my feelings are mine or if the hands have some sort of supernatural ability to manipulate my emotions. I have to admit, it all feels very real though. 

Day Fifteen

As I write this, I’m finding it incredibly hard to sit upright, I'm so full. After the enjoyable but intense feeding session on day eleven I have been subjected to something a little more intriguing and a little more sinister. 

The hands didn’t really bother me at all for the whole day on day eleven. The occasional appearance where they would just touch me but no food and nothing sustained. I was beginning to wonder if they were done with me. As dusk approached I was busy setting up some equipment in the kitchen, as I was starting to wonder where the food was coming from and I wanted to see if they were actually cooking it themselves when the light all went off suddenly. I found my phone and turned on the torch and tried to find my way to the  fuse box. As I stumbled in the darkness down into the cellar I felt the now familiar hands on the base of my back, guiding me down. They clearly wanted me to go somewhere and they were pushing me a little harder than I was expecting.

When I reached the cellar I found lights already on. The fuses obviously hadn’t blown, but the hands had done something else. I could smell food in the air and instantly felt my saliva glands begin to water. As I turned the corner I saw they had set a lazy-boy in the middle of the floor and there were two tables full of food laid out. And when I say full of food I mean a full banquet for a few dozen people. A whole thanksgiving meal was laid out including a whole turkey and hams and pies aplenty. I felt strangely worried and also very hungry. Guided by the hands I sat in the chair and waited to see what would happen. I suddenly remembered that I had not set up cameras there yet and went to stand to go get some, but the hands came thumping down on my shoulders, forcing me to sit. They were not keen on me leaving. This also didn’t feel as playful as before and I felt a little nervous that there was no way I would be able to eat all this food? (How wrong I was)

The hands began removing my t-shirt, which was something they had done before. Unbuckling my belt was next as they pulled my trousers off, folding them neatly and placing them amusingly to the side. They began to explore my body gently but firmly. As they did so I began to see that I’d put on a little timber in the past few weeks. My normally flat stomach was a little more puffy than usual. It had been blown out and bloated for a few days and it was only now that I hadn't eaten for a few hours that I could see its newly acquired pounds. The hands had definitely noticed as they both mainly stayed around that area, clearly enjoying themselves.

I lay there (enjoying the attention if I’m honest) until abruptly they stopped and I felt the hands lifting up my arms above my head. This was new and I should probably have been more suspicious of this than I was. I wasn’t aware of what they were doing until I heard a click and looked up to see they had placed handcuffs on my wrists which were attached to a rope tied to the ceiling. As I struggled to free myself, I heard two more clicks as my ankles were also cuffed to the bottom of the lazy boy. I wasn’t stretched out but there was no way I was going anywhere and that’s when the food started coming and let me tell you it did not stop.

I completely lost track of time down there, suffice to say the hands were determined to get every last mouthful of food into me. They would take it in turns pushing fistfuls of pie and meat and roasted vegetables into my mouth. I wouldn’t say they were increasingly aggressive, but they were very insistent. At the beginning, I would be given a bite of something and allowed to chew and swallow but the next bite would come straight away. The pressure in my stomach would increase and increase until I thought I would burst and then they would pause, returning to the belly rubs and massages. I would eventually fall asleep only to be woken a few hours later for the next round of feeding. More and more food pushed into my mouth until I couldn't take any more. This pattern continued for what I now know was 3 days. That’s how long it took me to eat the whole banquet. And I tell you that every last mouthful was fed to me. Not a crumb was wasted. 

I am now fully aware that I was under some sort of supernatural influence here. My stomach is way bigger than humanly possible. It's gone from a basketball size when full to to a pregnant looking beer gut. Perfectly round and tight and engorged. There is no physical way a person would be able to eat the amount of food they have packed in me, even at the rate they fed me over the past few days. Also, at no point did I attempt to spit the food out or refuse, I simply gave in and let them stuff me. 

I will at some point try to document exactly what I ate and how it happened but for now this is all I can manage. If I think of how much food is currently inside me I begin to feel quite nauseous. If I can manage to get to my feet, my belly now starts straight under my ribs and sticks out at least a foot before curving underneath my belly button and tapering in at my v line. It's as tight as a drum and warm to the touch and as I breathe only my chest goes in and out. I don't think I have ever seen anything like this.

In addition, I should note that the massages became a lot more personal in nature. Again for science I admit that as my stomach was filled, so too were other parts of my anatomy. A state of arousal which the hands most definitely noticed. As they massaged my food baby they also began to massage other engorged parts of my body. To climax. Being totally frank, these have been the most intense orgasms I have ever experienced in my life. The climax started as normal but as it built it spread up the bottom of my distended stomach giving me a whole body experience like nothing I have experienced. It seems that a supernaturally full abdomen is capable of a belly wide orgasm. I need to ask one of my female friends if that’s what a female orgasm feels like. 

I am beginning to feel like I need to leave the house at this point. The experiment has already brought me a huge amount of data and I’m worried if I stay I will end up even larger. I am worried to think what they are going to try and pack in me next. I should have weighed myself before the past experience but alas I only have my memory of my weight beforehand. I can’t imagine how my body will digest this amount of food and what will happen to my already bloated stomach after the next day or so. 

As I wrote that last sentence the hands have come back. They are currently resting on my belly shelf and I feel they are pretty pleased with themselves. I’m going to see what happens next but for now I’m turning off my laptop. 

Find the rest of my stories here

[manimart-plus]

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[storiesofsvu]

Rita Calhoun 50 OTP Q's Pt. 2

Rita Calhoun x fem!reader no major warnings. pt 2 a pretty quick follow up of pt 1 as it's just some hc's and not a full fic lol. Send your req's in here for more fun!

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?                 You both have a good balance of both. Rita really enjoys her sweet treats, but she doesn’t go overboard on them. She prefers to order groceries from whole foods while you don’t care where they come from as long as its edible. She does rely on take out a lot, but it’s from healthier places, salads, sandwiches, rice or noodle bowls, acai bowls, salmon or chicken and rice with veggies. You’ve even found her some nights with delivery from restaurants that don’t even offer it and all she’s said is “I know a guy…”. You’re the one more likely to indulge in the greasy pizza, overloaded Chinese food or mcdonalds.

27. Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?                 Rita’s everything shower is over an hour long every single time. You cannot tell me that woman doesn’t have a like 20 fucking step routine between skincare, haircare, dry brushing, etc. It’s also one of the times during the day that she uses to relax, some candles, a nice soft playlist to help her wind down. You’re the one that sings in the shower, though you only try to do it in the mornings she’s already gone for the day in the hopes to not be overheard.

28. Who is the book worm?                 Rita, absolutely hands down. She’s *obsessed* with books and on weekend shopping days will ALWAYS be dragging you into bookstores, especially antique or second hand ones. She’s usually got multiple on the go at once, a couple of fiction with different genres, and a couple of non fiction.

29. Who is the better cook?                 We all know it’s going to be you. It doesn’t matter if you’re not that great. Rita can’t even defrost an Uncrustable properly.

30. Who likes long walks on the beach?                 Gonna go with both of you. You don’t care what kind of beach it is, you enjoy the company, feeling the sand in your toes, the water on your feet, best way to end the day. Rita prefers the walking paths/sidewalks down by the beach so she doesn’t have to deal with the sand.

31. Who is more affectionate?                 Overall, and physically, you. You’re always telling her how much you love her, and are eager to have a hand or arm linked with hers while walking around outside. You’re more likely to be the one stealing a kiss or showing off PDA. It’s in the privacy of your home that Rita goes overboard with her affection. She shows it by physical touch and gifts mainly. Her hands tracing patterns on your legs while they’re strewn over her lap on the couch, she often catches herself watching you with a dreamy smile on her face because of how much she loves you and how much she can’t believe how well you take care of her.

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation?                 This one’s definitely going to Rita. She can talk for hours on end about those deep philosophical conversations that go on far too late into the night. She always enjoys expanding her mind and self educating herself on various topics and loves spending time looking things up and debating back and fourth with friends.

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?                 Hear me out, this was Rita and Rafael in their Harvard days. I’ll let you decide who’s wearing which one lol.

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?                 You’re definitely wearing the lost one, Rita’s the much more sober and collected one, gently guiding you to the car at the end of the night.

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays?                 Rita. She never means to, you’ve likely set limits for prices of presents and she almost always accidentally exceeds it. She never cared much for holidays, thinking they were overrated and never bothered to decorate her home or office when she was single and working all the time. But there’s something about seeing the way your eyes sparkle in the Christmas lights that she has a team fully decking out the entire apartment every single year because she knows you love it. (she does always make sure they leave the tree bare as that’s been made into a tradition the two of you do together.)

36. Who is the social media addict?                 You. Rita is not chronically online. The apps on her phone are much more likely to be various news ones. She likely has twitter and uses it more as a work reference and again, to keep up on current events and news. I DO like to believe that she has a (likely private) Instagram (and we’re gonna ignore the timeline of when insta became a thing/her age for this hc lol). And she’s been posting on it since college, fancy parties, yacht trips out in the hamptons, semi spicy bikini or dress pics, it’s incredibly aesthetic and she thrives to keep the vibe going. She’s got a fuck ton of followers and is like, lowkey Instagram famous, but most of the posts don’t actually include her face, especially as she got older and more concerned with her professional image.

37. Height difference or age difference?                 Didn’t we already do height? Lol. Age wise, Rita’s usually older. She focused on school and work and didn’t want to waste time dating when she was younger. Now that she’s established most people closer to her age are already married with kids. She doesn’t have any issues dating younger, as long as her partner has their shit together and has some ambition and goals when it comes to life. She cant deal with someone who has no motivation and just lounges around all day.

38. Who likes to star gaze?                 This is more leaning towards you. You like to take a moment during each day to appreciate the little things, like this, and say a silent thank you to the world for making such beautiful things. She doesn’t really think about it until you’re out of the skyscrapers of the city, sometimes out in the hampton’s, sometimes it’s a more tropical vacation that she can really see the night sky and there’s no place she’d rather be than on a cozy blanket showing you constellations.

39. Who buys cereal for the prize inside?                 Absolutely you! Which Rita will lovingly tease you about, especially if there is a collection of toys and you continue to buy boxes until you have the entire set. (and naturally you never actually eat the cereal..)

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent?                 If it came to actual parenting, I think Rita would be a mix of both, but much heavier leaning toward the responsible one. But she’s not having kids, so she’s always going to be the super fun rich af Aunt. She doesn’t do well with the younger kids, but once they’re about 16/17 she can have actual conversations with them, and she’ll be the one sneaking them booze and inviting them out to the hampton’s and letting them (semi responsibly) party on the yacht. She’s obviously the one you’d want to call when you’re in trouble considering her job and she’s also the one that’s never going to whisper a word to either of your parents. She’ll take those secrets to the grave. And she’s also very capable of intimidating the fuck out of bullies or ex boyfriends. She will threaten them with jail time.

41. Who cries during sad movies?                 Both of you. Rita’s a fucking sap so she cries at the romantic movies, you’re more likely the one to cry over the animals.

42. Who is the neat freak?                 I don’t particularly think Rita’s a neat *freak* but she has everything in its spot and knows where her things are 99.9% of the time. She’s organized, collected, tidy, her kitchen’s always clean cause she never cooks lol. And she likely has a cleaning service come to her apartment weekly to help with that kinda stuff.

43. Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one?                 You’re shocked Rita even agreed to go to the carnival with you and you’ve promised to win her one as a thank you. While she does have fun, indulges in plenty of food she never would have touched otherwise, and obviously pays for you to play all the stupid, nearly impossible to win games, it’s the giant smile on your face as you turn to her with a lime neon green giant monkey that makes her the happiest. If it had been some random gift from a first date it would have gone in the trash right away, but because it's from you and you worked so hard to win it he gets a name by the time you’re home and either lives on a stool in the walk in closet or has taken up residency in the guest room. (it’s his room now)

44. Who is active/ Who is lazy?                 You like to get a daily workout in, something as small as a walk around the block on slower days up to a class at the gym or some heavy lifting on days you’re more ambitious. Rita always makes sure to not be too sedentary, especially with an office job. She enjoys the more streamlined workouts, Pilates or yoga, things that she can do in the privacy of her living room and not have to leave the house for on colder days. She doesn’t particularly enjoy running, but will do it when she starts to feel a little too stiff and immobile. On the other hand, she truly enjoys your post dinner walks through the park, hand in hand as you share little stories.

45. Who is more likely to get drunk?                 Absolutely you. Rita will indulge in a drink or two with dinner, a cocktail or two out at the bar, but she doesn’t go much passed that. She doesn’t like to be out of control of herself, especially out in public. She has been known to finish a bottle of wine or two while at the apartment, and definitely gets a little silly, laughing harder and longer than she normally does.

46. Who has the longer food order?                 This is weird. Lol. I’m gonna go with Rita because she likely hasn’t eaten since breakfast and thus is more hungry, opting for an app or two and a full course meal while you’re fine with just a burger.

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?                 Rita. While it’s pretty simple at home, if she’s out and there’s a fancier option, she’s indulging. She probably has some sort of self made up special combination of different drinks. You’d think the barista’s would hate her for it but they all know her by name and have nicknamed the drink ‘The Calhoun’ so it has its own priced button in the computer and sticker label with all the steps for newer staff. (not to mention she tips incredibly on the daily)

48. Who loses stuff?                 You.

49. Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger?                 You’re always the driver if you’re not in a cab/car service. While Rita does know how to drive, she simply doesn’t. I could definitely see her having gotten her licence back in the day and never using it, thus letting it expire. She’s a passenger princess through and through.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic?                 Rita. That bitch is a cold hearted shark who scares or at least intimidates 90 % of the people she comes across in her workday/life but she has this completely other side to her with the people she trusts and loves. She’s the softest, most gentle, caring, tender person who will always put her love first and take every opportunity to show it.

________________________

@hbkpop @mickey-gomez @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl rl @svushots @wannabe-fic-reader @bumblebear30 @alexbllake @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @dead-of-niight @multifandomlesbianic @dxtery @momlifebehard @poisonedcrowns @when-wolves-howl @godard-muse @itisdoctortoyousir @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @dextur @disneyfan624 @svushots @happenstnces @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @valentinesfrog @noahrex @wittygutsy @chimnlex @i-lovefandom @ralla-ralla @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts

[mintywolf]

(I wrote this on the train coming home on August 26th although I am just getting around to posting it now because time is a weird soup.)

So okay.

****

I haven’t written a personal journal post in a long time but I want to write down EVERYTHING I can remember about my adventure to NYC to see the Critical Role cast so I don’t forget. It was SUCH a moving experience and I’m so glad I went even though I was scared.

So okay my big goal for this year was to finish the first chapter of my C3 prequel fan comic A Long Road Home (southerngothiccomic.com), have a print edition made, and meet Laura and Marisha at a convention so I could give copies of it to them in person. When the CR cast announced they were going to be at Anime NYC this year I figured that was the closest they were probably going to get to me in Virginia. (And getting autographs at NYCC is reportedly like hunting a unicorn so I figured this would be my best chance.)

I was also terrified, and almost talked myself out of it because I was nervous about giving them the comic, even though I already had a badge and it was what I really, really wanted to do. I know the cast loves to see fanart — and also, it has been revealed, reads the fanfic — but it’s also a pretty well-known taboo for a fan to show their fanfic to a creator and a graphic novel is an unholy hybrid of the two. I was also worried that it would seem presumptuous of me to present them with a fanmade prequel graphic novel because there’s almost certainly going to be an official one at some point, and afraid that at best they might politely tell me they couldn’t accept it (for the reasons that comic writers aren’t “allowed” to read fanfic), and at worst they might be kind of annoyed that it exists. Either way I’d be REALLY sad, and in the weeks leading up to the con I worked myself up into an irrational panic about this. Fortunately my friends managed to talk me into not backing out (and spoilers: it turned out okay in the end!) but I was still very scared.

Also I was so focused on the comic stuff that I forgot until after GenCon earlier this month to think of what I wanted to actually have autographed. I decided to get a big print of the chapter one cover from INPRNT, assuming that since I ordered it two weeks in advance with an eta of 5-7 days that would be plenty of time for it to get to me. Well, reader, it was not. (But please do not let me dissuade you from using INPRNT! To their credit when I contacted them and asked if I could upgrade to rush delivery, they expedited it for free. Unfortunately even with rush shipping it just missed me, arriving at my house while I was on the train to NYC.)

Pâté on the train going to see his biological parents. (Laura and Marisha.)

When I saw that it wasn’t going to arrive in time I was starting to panic because there is nowhere near me to have art prints made. It’s a 15 minute drive (past the alpaca farm) just to get to the nearest grocery store. Grasping at straws I was kind of like Should I . . . draw something? On paper?? With real media that I haven’t used in like 10 years??? I only have 3 days!!!

Fortunately my life was saved by @emphaticembroiderer who had the brilliant suggestion of sending my art ahead to a print shop in NYC and picking it up before the convention. There are indeed MANY of those in New York and I managed to find one that was open on Saturdays and able to make my print on short notice. (567 Framing on W 14th street. The owner, Jack Hu, did excellent work and was very kind!) By that point I was frazzled and didn’t want two of the same print so I decided to be self-indulgent and had this one made. Not my showiest piece but it is one of my favorite things I’ve drawn. (This turned out to be the correct decision.) It’s a 6 1/2 hour train ride from here to there (and it got a little delayed along the way) so by the time I got there it was after 5 and the print shop closed at 6:30 so I zoomed over there straight from the train station to pick it up. It turned out BEAUTIFULLY, and the owner was pleased with how happy I was with it and that he’d been able to help.

He enjoys that he is included.

Then I went and checked in to my hotel and that point really just wanted to lie down on a bed but I had plans to take Pâté to see Hadestown on Broadway that night because I wanted to make the most of my trip. (Also it’s important for our scrungly son to receive a cultural education.) In keeping with the theme of the weekend I wore the Laudna-themed sundress I made for GenCon with one of the poppies in my hair. An usher told me they liked my ensemble. :) I had decided to go for a front row mezzanine seat because I didn’t know when I’d ever have this opportunity again and I didn’t want to risk my miniature self being stuck behind a tall person. It was perfect; I could see everything and the performance was AMAZING. Pâté had a very good time too.

The next day was the CR panel and autographs!! I decided to wear my 1950s Laudna cosplay from GenCon. I had some doubts about it when I got there because without the rest of 50s Bells Hells the theme isn’t as clear and outside of a DnD-focused convention the recognizability of a CR character is kind of low, let alone an AU variant on one. But once I found the Critters my Pâté poodle skirt was appreciated. :)

This is Rach @dadrielle, Astoria @astoriacolumnstaircase, Abby @overnighttosunflowers, and me as 50s Hells at GenCon!

And okay I know this said a lot but it’s true, CR fans are the NICEST fandom to be a part of. <3 If you’re ever standing in line for a CR thing by the time you get there you will have new friends. (For comparison the other-fandoms cosplayers I saw at the hotel and on the way to the con didn’t even return my smiles, even though we were all clearly going to the same place.) I fell in with a group of people who were near me in line (including an amazing Owlbearman cosplayer) and we decided to all sit together. The panel was really great. I don’t remember everything that was asked because of everything ELSE that happened later that day but they hinted that Big Things are coming (including multiple live shows!! Please come to Richmond! Or DC! Or at least somewhere on the East Coast!) for the 10th anniversary and Momlan stepped up to the mic during the Q&A segment and revealed that Sam has achieved his childhood dream . . . to become a minotaur. :D

With the mindset of making the most of this trip I had intended to try to get a spot in line to ask a question but I was hesitant about being on camera (even in cosplay) and while I was dithering about it like 50 people got in line. (I was also Suffering by that point because my rockabilly Laudna shoes have like 3 inch heels and after walking from the hotel to the convention center I didn’t have the fortitude to dart over to the line in them.)

My question, which I hope to submit next time there’s a Q&A opportunity, was this: For Marisha. We’ve seen Delilah’s influence manifesting in Laudna’s fashion choices recently. Now that she has the means and the freedom to do so, what kind of clothes would she choose for herself?

(Because I am a little sad that — until a possible post-campaign oneshot — we’ll never get to see a high-level Laudna costume that’s totally of her own design and I’m really eager to know what it would look like! Let her be spooky and free!)

Afterwards the cosplayers were being rounded up for a photo shoot but I was anxious to get a good spot in line for my autograph with Laura at 2pm so I stealthed away with Ken (@elissabrat), a Jester fan I had met in line, who knew where they were and had one with Travis at the same time. When we got there we were told No, go away and come back in an hour and a half, because it was still only 12. So we went to the Artists Alley where we found a girl named Lea whom we had also met in the panel line and collected a few other stray Critters (Ken has a boisterous and inviting personality and importantly, is very tall, preventing the rest of us from getting lost in the crowd) and we wandered around seeking out all the CR fan artists we could find. (There were a lot! It was great. I got some prints.)

by Cait May and Maliveth

Around 1 we decided to go back and see what the line situation was. Before we parted ways I exchanged twitter handles with Lea, who looked at my profile and said “Wait . . . this is you?”

She told me she was a big fan of my comic and looks forward to it every week! and we were both kind of like !!! at each other for a moment. I had never met someone who recognized my art in the wild before. (On ANY other day this would have been the most amazing thing that happened to me, haha.) I was so touched to meet her. <3

I took out the two books I was carrying and explained why I was there and we all got hyped up about it. And it made it feel a little less daunting, to know that there was someone there who understood the quest I was on and how close I was to the end of it.

I was like 5th in line for Laura and since it was still early I got to participate in that bonding experience integral to every con, sitting on the floor in cosplay, with a very good Vex behind me. (Hilariously, even after the dig at them — or maybe unaware of it — in the most recent episode, there were a lot of Funko Pop resellers around us, haha.)

I sent word to Southern Gothic Discord to remember me fondly in case I died here. In fact I'm not entirely sure that I didn't.

It felt like there was a disproportionate amount of fanfare revealing my print because I kept it how it was packed by the printer, wrapped in paper in between two pieces of cardboard so it wouldn’t get bent, so there was this whole ceremony of peeling back the tape, turning under one of the cardboard protectors, unfolding the paper, and turning over the print. But Laura loved it. She made like a happy sob when she saw it (it was really cute) and she looked at it for a long time taking in all the details and said it was beautiful. <3 <3 <3 (No matter how much we love and ship Imogen and Laudna, NO ONE loves them or is shipping them harder than Laura Bailey. She asked if I was going to bring it to Marisha too and was careful picking out a spot so there'd be room for both of their signatures. :))

I told her I was really happy to meet her because I’ve been a fan since BloodRayne (so, um. 20 years) and she said “oh wow, that was OG days!” And she gave me just a really kind look like she understood how much it meant to me to be there.

Then I gave her the comic. You all were right, I was worried about nothing! because she is the sweetest and she loved it. I very nervously pushed it across the table and said it was a comic I had made and wanted to give her. She picked it up and started turning the pages and was surprised when she saw what it was. “Wait, this is a whole novel! You made this?”

I confessed that I had, and she asked how long it had taken, I told her about a year (it was actually longer; in the moment I kind of forgot not how many pages there are in the first chapter but how many weeks are in a year) and she looked just really impressed that I had made it and touched by how much work had gone into it. She said she couldn’t wait to read it and seemed really excited to hear that it’s still going online! (So no pressure on me there if she's keeping up with it now, haha. o.o) And she kept looking between the book and me like she couldn’t believe it.

Then she asked me if I would sign it for her. :')

Somehow I survived long enough to do so! (a little wobbly because my hands were shaking) and someone (I think it was the ticket scanner) made a joke about how I was the first person to give an autograph at a signing, haha. And then she came around the table and gave me a hug. <3 <3 <3

After that my soul was still on the ethereal plane but the rest of me managed to find my way (after a brief wrong turn) to Marisha’s line. (There was a really good Keyleth and Caduceus in line behind me and they kindly noticed and returned the Pâté sticker that fell out of Marisha’s book).

She recognized my cosplay as 1950s Laudna right away! which was very validating after my earlier indecision haha. She loved the Pâté skirt and thought the scissors embroidery on my collar was adorable. She really liked the art too and was kind of like “Awww” about the book like in an “aww it’s an Imogen and Laudna thing” kind of way (she also liked the glass bottle windchimes on the cover and I love that she noticed that detail because Laudna’s penchant for turning things other people have thrown away into arts and crafts is one of my favorite aspects of her character) until she opened it and started looking through it.

Then she said, “Wait, this is actually really good," and she asked me seriously if Liam “Art Dad” knew about it (I said he had liked some of my other art on Twitter but I didn’t know if he knew about the comic) and then she said — still looking at it, more to herself than me — “We’ll have to add it to our art catalogue.” I don’t know exactly what that means (and I don’t want to get my hopes up too high by speculating; I was too !!! in the moment to ask and now I’m going to be wondering) but . . . it sounds . . . exciting??

They also both enjoyed Pâté and his lil sunglasses. :)

I had gone up with the intention of asking my other burning question: How does being cold-blooded affect Laudna in cold climates? If she gets too cold will she enter a state of brumation like a lizard? Will she freeze solid?

But I forgot. And it really wouldn’t have been the right moment. Maybe when I come back with Volume Two. :)

You’re supposed to pay extra to get a quote put on there but they both did it anyway without even asking. I think they must be really pleased when someone brings them something personal that they’ve made to have signed and not something they’re planning to sell.

After that I just kind of floated away from the con even though it was only like 2:30 haha. Nothing else could have happened there that would have equaled or improved upon that experience. Although I did adopt a Tentacle Kitty. The vendor (correctly) guessed “you look like you’d vibe with our spooky collection” so I had to get a new buddy for Pâté. (50s Laudna, still readily identifiable as a witch wherever she goes.) Also I saw a very chill emotional support pomeranian in a backpack.

(On the way back I saw the mark of the Traveler graffiti’d in green on the sidewalk. Truly a blessed day. :P)

Afterwards I just sat on the bed in my hotel room amid the floof of my crinoline wondering what even is my life for the next few hours and being like !!!! at Discord. Then I met up with Abby (whom it was wonderful to see again!! thank you so much for coming to see me) for dinner and had a really lovely time going over the What Just Happened of it all and talking about Imodna over strawberry pancakes. As one does. Perfect ending to an amazing day. <3

It was SUCH an incredible, exhilarating experience, thank you everyone who pushed me into not giving up out of fear. Laura and Marisha are SO nice and gracious in person and it was just so rewarding, after all the work and love and time I’ve put into this comic, to be able to finally bring it to the people who inspired it! And to see it appreciated and admired by them! It was more than I ever could have imagined.

This fandom is the best. My heart is so happy and full of love right now. <3 <3 <3

[momoyukirin]

Momo's "An Idol's Daily Life" Rabbitchat Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Highly Nutritious ☆ Home-cooked meal

Tsumugi: Thank you for your hard work, Momo-san. And thank you for inviting us on “NEXT Re:vale” today!

Tsumugi: It appears that everyone enjoyed that “Make a heart flutter with pre-determined lines!” project.

Momo: Good work, Maneko-chan~! (*´∀`*)/ Recording was really fun, wasn’t it!

Momo: It was worth planning this project with the staff!

Tsumugi: All of the assigned lines on the pieces of paper that got pulled from the box were so funny that Okazaki-san and I ended up laughing a lot!

Momo: Even though lines like “I’m hungry” or “my feet are itchy” are silly, they’d whisper them in a sexy way to make them heart-pounding, so they ended up sounding really surreal and funny www*

Tsumugi: But when Idols like you all say them, they somehow sound cool, so it was rather strange!

Momo: I know right~~~~!!

Momo: My heart skipped a beat too when Yamato hugged me from behind and whispered “Do you want to add Gochujang?” (*/∇ \*)

Tsumugi: Yamato-san was in high spirits as well! lol

Momo: He really gave his all for that “Go~chu~jang” huh www

Momo: His breathing was impressive ww

Tsumugi: Mitsuki-san’s composed “What kind of situation is this!” tsukkomi* response right after was brilliant!

Momo: Right! As expected of IDOLiSH7! Their tsukkomi and boke balance is amazing!

Tsumugi: Thank you! I’m sure Mitsuki-san will be happy to hear this, so I’ll let him know!

Momo:

Tsumugi: Your heart-pounding line was also wonderful, Momo-san! The part you said “Games are only allowed for one hour a day” while kabedoning Tamaki-san!

Momo: Thank you (*´∀`)*。Though Tamaki immediately went “no way” ww

Momo: It was fun and the flow ended up being really interesting, including Sougo who came from the stage seats in a panic to try and convince me to nod and agree with him!

Momo: But it was so exciting we ended up dragging the shoot a bit longer, were you okay with the job after that?

Tsumugi: Yes! Thanks to everyone’s cooperation, we left quickly and managed to finish the shoot at the next location on schedule!

Momo: That’s a relief~! Then, are you done for the day? It’s late, so be careful going home.

Tsumugi: Thank you for your concern! I will be, I think I’ll just get some groceries for dinner and go home.

Momo: Making dinner after work is quite impressive!?

Momo: I hadn’t even thought about making anything (+･`−･´)

Tsumugi: I won’t be making anything too elaborate, but I guess I’ve just made a habit of it..!

Tsumugi: What do you usually do, Momo-san?

Momo: Usually I just get a bento or catering in the dressing room!

Momo: I order delivery on my days off _(:3」∠)_

Tsumugi: There are many kinds nowadays so it’s quite convenient, isn’t it! I also like to order sweets on my days off.

Momo: That’s nice! Like watching the movies and TV dramas you’ve been recording* with the latte and donut you got delivered in hand!

Tsumugi: That's exactly it!

Momo: (≥▽≤)/□☆□/(≥▽≤)

Tsumugi: (≥▽≤)/□☆□/(≥▽≤)

Momo: You went along with it www Thanks ww

Tsumugi:

Tsumugi: However, if you only eat bento you might get nutritional imbalance so please be careful..!

Momo: Maneko-chan, you're so kind (;∀;) Thank you ☆

Momo: Yuki invited me over today, so it’s okay (つω<")

Momo: He said that since I haven’t been eating well lately, he made beef stew with lots of vegetables!

Tsumugi: Oh! So you are at Yuki-san’s house!

Tsumugi: Making a home-cooked meal with so much thought put into it, as expected of Yuki-san!

Momo: He’s the best darling after all(o/▽`)/:*・° °・*

Momo: I thought I could help, but I was told I'm on the bench*, so now I'm just sitting quietly and waiting (´・ω・`)

Tsumugi:

Translator's notes:

1)“www” is one of the japanese equivalents to “lol” but i wanted to differentiate it from tsumugi’s “(笑)” (also “lol”) so I chose to translate hers and leave Momo’s as is, since I use “www” a lot as is myself lol

2)Anyone who’s read idolish7 content by this point probably knows this, but just in case, the “straight man” (tsukkomi) and “funny man” (boke) act is a kind of japanese comedy duo where the boke says something silly or creates a misunderstanding and the tsukkomi corrects them

3) Momo refers to the shows you can record on your tv to watch later, idk if this is a thing much anymore in the west but i do believe it is still in japan.

4)Momo basically said that Yuki told him he's off-duty but the word he uses is apparently used in sports to convey a player that was not chosen to play in the team, momo is a sportsman after all~ www

[liminalweirdo]

okay once again i am coming to tumblr to ask for help as in HOW DO I EAT MORE VEGETABLES IN THE AGE OF LISTERIA. lol but no really, here is the problem:

i was a salad guy, i used to eat mostly raw veg but i don't feel super comfortable doing that rn.

i'm also autistic and i end up getting super overwhelmed every dinner time because adding new steps for dishes i haven't made before is really daunting, and when i start looking for new recipes online it's like there are so fucking many? so i freeze.

basically i love vegetables and pre-pandemic i ate them all the time but now that we can't go inside grocery stores where no one's masking and can't pick out our own produce, most of the produce we DO get from the store pickup/delivery is... disappointing at best. like sometimes we get it and it's already rotting.

needless to say i eat like 70% less veg than i used to and it's been really negatively affecting how well i feel.

farmers markets are too expensive for me to go to with any sort of regularly. we're considering farmers boxes but they are also kind of prohibitively expensive rn, so i guess i'm looking for like... idk, other solutions, if they exist?

or maybe i'm just hoping for literally any ways to eat more greens/veg that i can

1) cook/heat in some way because covid, and because it can hide the quality of shitty veg at the supermarket

2) aren't very very time consuming (i'm willing to spend like an hour making supper but that's about my energy capacity)

3) aren't something i need to buy an air frier or like a fucking sous vide or something to prepare

or maybe suggestions for veg that keep a little longer than greens do because we kind of shop just twice a month for covid exposure reasons?

this doesn't need to be like "healthy eating" i'm just looking for more variety in my diet.

anything, pls? recipes, ideas. i love veg i will eat all of them, i just never really learned to cook them well, or how to incorporate them into a lot of meals when it's not, like, salad

or even where do you get veg that is kind of affordable/doesn't suck?

[letomills]

The "requests are paused until I'm done with the current ones" thing was wishful thinking (a bit like the closing statements in my last yt video 🤓) and I am once again thoroughly overwhelmed with everything.

Requests are firmly closed until further notice. I said yes to the FtM hairs for anon and the Tiggerypum tunics & iamliz13 alpha dresses for children & toddlers for the other anon (I did get the links you sent to the meshes), so I still intend to complete both.

A novel's worth of life updates under the cut (content warning for struggle with bipolar type 2, including questionable choices which should not be taken as advice).

Well over a year ago I shared that my mother was going through a really bad bipolar type 2 depression episode (looking back, mention of it in that post was very euphemistic, I must have been hopeful). The reason why I didn't give any updates after a while is that there is no satisfactory narrative that I could easily spin into words. She's not all better, she hasn't died or lost her mind for good, things have just been evolving at a snail's pace through a whole spectrum of very bleak colors. She's not fully hospitalized anymore, she lives at home with my brother and me, with day hospitalisation activities several times a week. The myriad psychiatrists that she's seen have not been able to find the "right" treatment for her, but hey, after lithium sent her into such a state of confusion that we thought she might stay mentally disabled for the rest of her life, at least now we know that's not an option. A couple days ago her psychiatrist prescribed a new antipsychotic to replace the one she'd been taking. She started the transition, and today confusion started showing its terrifying face again so she's not taking that pill tonight, or to be honest ever again unless her psychiatrist somehow manages to convince us otherwise (she'll report her symptoms and get counsel at the hospital tomorrow). Her cognition is already impaired, her short-term memory and ability to focus especially. She can't live alone, I keep and manage her pillboxes, make sure she's eating right and the stove is off, that sort of stuff. But at least, until the introduction of this new drug, she'd made considerable gains compared to when she was at her worst last winter. No way we're going back to that again.

On a more positive note, about a month and a half ago I started work at a grocery delivery place just up the street (yes that's what I'm doing with my degree in Mandarin and my master's in English-French translation studies). It's intense physically, kinda stressful, and not very well paid, but I think I like it and the people are very nice. What scares me is that my trial period ends in about 2 weeks and I'm not entirely sure that they'll want to keep me, considering I've made several mistakes and they don't seem to think that I work quite fast enough (I know I said the people were very nice, they are, that's just the job). They keep saying the work load is gonna get crazier starting in September. The way they're saying it may suggest that they do envision me as still working there in September, but maybe they're trying to push me to work faster now and if I can't prove that I'm able to they won't keep me? Well I'm already doing my best, even if sometimes I end up finding myself crying over clients' items because my brain isn't able to focus anymore and I'm messing up and wasting time.

Emotional control has been harder because I unilaterally made the decision to taper off my antidepressant. Now before you facepalm, let me flood you with all of my best questionable arguments: • I do have an appointment with my psychiatrist, the earliest date I could get was October 1st (and I may have to postpone, depending on my work hours that day which I don't know yet). • I was already on the lowest dose that you can be on. • I tapered off very slowly. • I recently talked about it with the nurse that I saw for the mandatory medical visit I had to go to because I got the new job (idk if you have that outside of France). Naturally she was alarmed that I'd been weaning myself off on my own and she convinced me to see my GP asap and not change my medication without at least his input (which yes, I know). • the reasons I did it despite knowing that it's inadvisable are: 1) obviously I haven't been feeling depressed for a while or I wouldn't have done it, 2) the amount of endorphin-producing physical exercise I get from the new job felt like it could maybe do the trick so it was worth a try, 3) seeing how much my mom's medication has messed up her cognition over the years is scary. She's been taking way higher doses of antidepressants than me, along with other stuff, over a way longer period of time, but still. I don't want to be on it if it's not strictly necessary, so I wanted to try off. • I'm still taking my antipsychotic religiously and have no intention to stop that (I can't anyway or I won't be able to sleep and I'll definitely lose the job).

My plan with the antidepressant was to space out the doses and eventually get off it entirely for several weeks before reassessing, but after seeing that nurse, I started upping again to one dose every other day. I will admit, I was having suicidal thoughts after several days off, and now it's gone. Maybe I should find having suicidal thoughts more alarming than I do, the nurse's phrasing when she asked if I did - something that could translate to "no suicidals thoughts, riiight?" - was a good reminder that suicidal thoughts are really bad to have oh no. Of course I said no, why would I want her to interfere (leave me to make decisions for my own self thank you). Anyway, the appointment with my GP is in two days. He's gonna be useless on psych stuff but I guess getting his unqualified, predictable input is the responsible thing to do in polite society. More relevantly, the nurse also told me to go see him because my blood pressure is a bit low, or at least it was at 9/6 when she saw me, so I need to have it retaken and see what's up with that if anything.

And so yes, I have a ton of CC plans as always, I am positively drowning. Beside the two requests I mentioned above the cut, one of which I need to do a lot of learning for, I picked up work on Celestialspritz's beta Vincent skins and started converting afbodykimono for the usual roaster of breasted body shapes, like I did with afbodyqipao here and would like to do with more Happy Holiday Stuff outfits in the future. Although I told myself that I would stick to the body shapes that I've already done stuff for, I now also want to make a set of clothes for Lady Apple. I also have an idea about a set of scrawny body shapes for TU-EU inspired by Mrs Crumplebottom's body shape. I know Melodie9's slim family exists but to be honest those shapes creep me out and I want to see if I can do something less uncanny (it may end up looking too similar to the Androgyny body shapes, or to Faerie Gal, or it may not pan out at all, so don't hold your breath). I also want to do a ton of hairs in FakeBlood's palette + Naberius (tbh I'm still not 100% sure if I like Timebomb or Naberius more for my aliens, I need to figure that out once and for all). And of course I want to do more FtM & MtF hair conversions once I know how to do it well enough. There's a billion smaller projects I'd like to insert in between those, outfit conversions for one or a couple body shapes, repurposing of older meshes, a set of nude "outfits" for all the body shapes I do, etc.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Workers from 27 Metro stores in the Greater Toronto Area have a new collective agreement after a month-long strike. The workers, represented by Unifor, voted to ratify a second tentative deal just two days after the grocery giant was granted a temporary injunction restricting secondary picket lines that blocked fresh product deliveries to its stores. More than 3,700 workers had been on strike since July 29 after rejecting the first tentative agreement recommended by their bargaining committee.  Under the new deal, all workers will get an immediate raise of $1.50 an hour, said Unifor spokesperson Paul Whyte in a statement. Full-time and senior part-time workers will receive a $2-an-hour pay increase within months, he added. 

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada