#And another project not to mention all the reading I'm supposed to do for said finals + I gotta worry about moving outta my dorm

[binders-and-beanies]

people act like being a social work major is so easy but then they hear all the shit you have to do and they’re like I would kms

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 4:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Mentions of sexual and romantic attraction. Jealousy. Confusing feelings.

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

Hunter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His initial desperation and anger dissipated into a confused silence.

Was he letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment? Were you really, truly fine and he’d just driven you to anger with his incessant worry?

Maybe it was him who’d changed, projecting onto you the frustration of feelings he didn’t understand.

Am I making this all up?

“Hunter?” Omega slid down the ladder from her room, her small face lined with concern.

Kriff. She'd seen the whole thing.

He turned to face her. “What's up, kid?”

“Is she okay?” Omega looked past the ramp where you'd gone out only seconds ago.

“I… I'm not sure, Omega. She said it's fine though. I trust her.”

She didn't look convinced. “I dunno… She looked really mad. And really sad.”

Hunter shrugged. “She said everything was fine.” He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more - Omega or himself.

Omega sighed, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t be dumb, Hunter. It isn’t remotely fine! She is definitely not ok. She's mad!”

Hunter sighed. He knew she was right. He could read her body language and it did not match her words. Guilt twisted and churned through his guts like seasickness.

“How do you know that?”

Omega shrugged. “I read it on the holonet! Tech had some sites up on his datapad when I borrowed it. Sometimes if a woman says she’s fine, it means she's actually really not fine.” Omega paused and scratched her arm. Her nose wrinkled in confusion. “I mean, I don't really get it, but that's what it said. Though, I don't understand why you'd say one thing but mean the exact opposite.”

Hunter's expression mirrored her own. “Yeah. I'm not really sure either, kid. All I know is things were definitely a lot easier when we were just blowing up Seps.”

And apparently I need to talk to Tech about leaving his datapad lying about. He made a mental note to himself. The last thing he needed was Omega accidentally coming across something she definitely shouldn’t be seeing at her age.

He stood for a moment as Omega grabbed her trooper doll and Lula, carrying them back up the ladder to her room. Wracking his brain, he tried to think of something - anything he might’ve done wrong to upset their companion.

Hunter sighed, sitting heavily in the cockpit chair as Tech worked silently beneath the console.

“What am I supposed to do, Tech?” He hit the wall beside him with a fist, the loud clang earning a scowl from Tech as he poked his head out from under the console.

“What are you talking about? And please don’t hit my ship, I just fixed that panel.”

Hunter drew his arm back, resting it on the armrest instead. “Sorry,” he said glumly.

“It’s fine,” Tech grunted, grabbing another tool before sliding back beneath the console.

“I just don’t know what to do about her!”

“Who? Omega?” Tech’s voice was muffled, nearly drowned out by the sudden buzz of a plasma tool.

“No, not Omega.” Hunter rolled his eyes. His brother could be so oblivious sometimes.

“Ah,” Tech slid out from his workstation again. “Well, what about her?”

Hunter folded his arms across his chest. “She’s just been acting so weird lately.”

“Weird how?” Tech grabbed another tool.

Hunter shrugged. “I don’t know. She leaves the room whenever I walk in. Lately she only ever talks to me when it’s about a job and then it’s only a ‘yes sir’ or a ‘you got it Sarge.’”

“I fail to see how that is a problem.”

Hunter grunted, “It just isn’t her. She isn’t acting like herself.”

“And you’re concerned that this change in behavior will affect her field performance?”

“I…” Hunter hesitated, “Well yeah, but not just that. It’s just…” Hunter paused again, trying to find the words. “It’s just that we’re a team. All of us. I thought if there was something wrong, she’d come talk to me like she used to.”

The whir of a hydrospanner filled the silence before Tech spoke again. “Did you ask her to explain her actions?”

“Yeah. Or at least I tried to but she just said she was fine.”

“But you do not think she’s telling the truth?”

Hunter shrugged. “I was gonna let it go but Omega overheard us and basically yelled at me that saying ‘I’m fine’ means she isn’t actually fine.”

“That seems counterintuitive.” Tech frowned.

Hunter shook his head looking perplexed. “Maybe it’s one of those woman things?”

“Hmm, mood swings and irritability are both symptoms of a woman’s menstrual cycle.”

Hunter scoffed, “Where did you read that?”

Tech poked his head out from beneath the console. “The holonet. I figured that I should do some research on the physiology of the opposite sex since we now have two of them aboard the ship and our education on Kamino was less than sufficient on the subject.”

“We didn’t get any education on that subject.”

“Precisely.”

“I guess that probably was a smart thing to do.”

Tech rolled his eyes, “Of course it was. Did you expect any less?”

Hunter smirked. “I guess not.” His smile faded as he ran a hand down his face. “Did your research tell you what I’m supposed to do with her?”

“Many of the articles on the subject recommended using a heating pack or massage therapy for her physical discomfort. Some suggested that bringing her food - specifically chocolate - may improve irritability.”

Hunter thought for a moment. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” He sighed, “I just don’t want to lose her.”

Tech sat his hydrospanner down and adjusted his goggles. “Indeed. She is a useful asset.”

“Yeah, she is but - “ The sound of soft footsteps interrupted him. He groaned, getting up from his seat. Omega was supposed to have gone back to bed. “Omega?”

When there was no reply, he sat down again shaking his head. “That kid’s something else.”

“Yes. She does have a tendency to disregard orders. Much like us.”

“Yeah.” Hunter rested his chin on his fist.

Tech stood up, brushing dust off of his pants. He looked at his brother.

“You are still thinking about her?”

Hunter groaned again. “I just don't know what to do anymore, Tech! She's not just a member of the team to me! When that shot blew the landing gear the other day, I was terrified that she'd been injured! I find myself thinking about her all the time. She can fight like hell, she's pretty, and smart. I just don't want her to walk away if there's something I could've done!”

“You mean to say that you are experiencing romantic feelings towards her?”

“Definitely not.” Hunter stated defensively. “We’re clones. That’s not in the cards for us.”

Tech raised an eyebrow. “The war is over and we are no longer soldiers of the Republic. Therefore, their rules and regulations no longer apply.” He frowned, “And besides, since when have we ever done as we’re told?”

Hunter was silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Tech did have a point.

Tech frowned in concentration, scrolling through his datapad. “Do you experience an elevated heart rate when in her presence?”

“I guess?”

“Do you value her thoughts and opinions?”

“Of course I do!”

“Do you find yourself wanting to be close to her physically and/or emotionally?”

“...Yes,” Hunter felt almost reluctant to answer.

Tech looked up with a smirk, “Well, then according to this and several other sources, you have in fact, fallen in love.”

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

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @the-rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rogue @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @sev-on-kamino @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @ghostlyembassy @skellymom @freesia-writes @trixie2023 @jedipoodoo @reader6898 @all-mights-babygirl @arcsimper5 @red-robin-yum08 @wintersnnowie @whore-of-many-hot-men @theeyesofasoldier @griffedeloup @starswhores @totallyunidentified @waytoooldforthis78

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

Stitches (Part II)

(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰

Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅

One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕

Hope you enjoy!!

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

"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.

Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.

"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"

"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.

"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."

Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.

"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"I- I'm humoring you!"

"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"

"No, I do! O-on my terms!"

"This is on your terms."

"Yes, but-"

"In fact, you insisted."

He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"

Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.

"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."

That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.

"I wish I could, my dear."

Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."

Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."

"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"

"It's sewn on, Rosie."

"…What?"

He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.

Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"

"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."

"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."

"But my microphone..."

"You're doing just fine without it."

Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"

"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"

Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…

If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…

But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.

"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"

Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."

The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.

She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.

Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.

Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.

And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.

"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."

Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.

As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.

Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.

"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"

Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"

"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.

"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"

Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"

Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.

"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.

Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.

And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.

"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"

Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."

"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.

"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.

Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."

A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…

And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?

"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"

"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"

This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.

Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.

"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."

"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"

"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."

"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.

Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.

...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.

He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.

While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.

...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.

The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.

To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.

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

"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.

Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕

💜- Cozy

[normal-internet-user]

Howdy hey!!! :D

How are you doing today? I hope you’re doing fantastic ^^

May I perhaps request a silly lil Donnie x reader onshot? Anything fluffy!! Perhaps touch starved reader not knowing how to properly ask Donnie for hugs because of how hesitant he is with physical touch? Or, you could do anything!! I’m happy with everything you write <333

Thank you kindly for your time! Can’t wait to doodle something for you :3c 🔆💛🍋💫

OF COURSE! I can't wait to publish this for you! <33

DARLING DEAREST

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You want nothing more than to hold your lover, but you don't want to make him uncomfortable. All it takes is a little communication!<3

Warnings: Nope! Just fluffy fluff!

Requested: mhm! By the wonderful @sweaterrat !

No pronouns mentioned!

....................................

Gosh you just wanted to hold him.

You were currently sat across from Donnie as he rambled on about his current project. You hardly understood a word he was saying but he was speaking so excitedly you couldn't help but smile.

You was so cute all you wanted to hug him or hold his hand or- Gah just something!

But you didn't know how to ask if that was ok. What if you tried to initiate something and you made him uncomfortable?

That would make you feel so terrible. So you sat silently, hoping your self frustration was noticable.

But of course, Donnie was able to tell something was off as perceptive as he was.

"Is something wrong, Dove?" He asked, cutting his ranting short, "You look upset."

You shake your head, smiling softly, "No it's nothing just-" you hesitate for a minute, "It's nothing. Now what were you saying about the program?"

Donnie shook his head, rolling his chair away from his desk so he was infront of you, "Something's wrong. I know I'm not the best with feelings, but I read that communication is a key point in a relationship. So what's wrong?"

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers, "It's just- Gosh I don't know how to say this without being awkward-" You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Donnie slowly took your hands and pulled them away from your face, and you blushed when he didn't let go.

"Then be awkward." He muttered, "I want to hear what you have to say."

"Well... It's kinda stupid-" you say, blushing brightly, then quietly mutter, "Can.. I have a hug?"

Donnie sat there for a moment, as though he was processing your words, then a small smile broke out on his face, and he giggled slightly.

You whined, and blushed harder, "Stop laughing at me you big jerk!"

Donnie shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you, but that's what you were so nervous to bring up? You wanting a hug?"

"Well, I know you aren't the most comfortable with physical affection, and I didn't really know how to bring it up." you said, fiddling with your fingers, "I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable."

Donnie eyes grow softer, and he smiles, "Darling dearest, I believe we're both at fault here. A lack of proper communication if you will. I don't mind your affection, on the contrary, I like it actually." He blushed slightly as he said this, then continued, "I suppose, like you, I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"That being said, come here!" Donnie pulled you into his lap, and the blush on your cheeks was red to rival all other shades of red. You buried your head in Donnie's shoulder, giggling, and Donnie was thankful you couldn't see his flushed face.

He was flustered by his own forwardness, but he couldn't help but melt into your warmth.

"We should do this more often." Donnie muttered, "You're warm."

"Agreed." You said, grinning, "Wanna take a nap?"

Donnie hummed, and he stood, his arms wrapped around your thighs to hold in place against him while he moved the two of you too his room, where you proceeded to have the best nap of your life...

..................................

Just figured I'd post this before I dissappeared off the face of this website for another week, lol- I hope you enjoy my friend, and I'm sorry I took so long! <3

[sailoryooons]

Suga's How-To Guide | Interlude One | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Camboy!Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: Min Yoongi has been a cam boy for a few years now. The work is easy, the money is good, and he has loyal viewers. When he approaches you and asks if you want to be his muse for a ‘how-to’ series, your view on the infamous Yoongi changes.

☾ Word Count: 9,165

☾ Genre: Friends to lovers, pwp

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Explicit language, light mentions of insecurity from reader, explicit sexual content including unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (m. and f. receiving), ass play (small disclaimer: there's no verbal convo / visible discussion about practicing safe rimming - as with any sexual act there's a risk factor so pls don't take this as end all be all), fingering (asssss), nipple play, a lot of spit and cum and bodily fluids idk fam they fucking, recreational drinking (neither party drunk before sex), use of a color system, slut / sex worker shaming (lightly / implied)

☾ Published: October 7, 2022

☾ A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble series but it has turned into a little more. Like I have said - this does not specifically have a plot but there will be a pinch of problem solving etc in the next chapter. Reminder: this series doesn't have a goal and I'm updating it whenever I feel like it. There aren't scheduled updates for it, they just sort of happen when I'm vibing with it. Anyway, this feels like it took me 500 years to write but my god I haven't really written a chapter of something in almost a month, though I've done some oneshots. It feels really good to finally have a finished product of something, so thank you for being patient with me. Also I actually edited a chapter LOOK AT ME GO. But if you see errors well I'm not perfect lmao

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Series Masterlist | Part of Hali’s Happy Agust | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The door to Seokjin’s apartment opens as you lean on the counter of the kitchen, drinking wine as a group of your friends pick at an exquisite charcuterie board. Taehyung swings his legs back and forth where he sits on the counter in a heated debate with Namjoon over books while Hoseok and Seokjin both move around one another in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

“Will you go see if that’s Yoongi?” Seokjin asks you over his shoulder. “He’s supposed to be bringing a bunch of wine, he might need help carrying it.”

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod. “I didn’t know Yoongi was coming.”

“Yoongi always comes,” is Seokjin’s answer, though you’re pretty sure that your best friend didn’t explicitly name Yoongi in the list of people he invited over for dinner.

Monthly dinner at Seokjin’s two-story home has always been a thing. As you wander through the door toward the entryway near the living room, you try to think if Yoongi has ever missed one of the monthly dinner parties.

You’ve never noticed before.

Of course, before there wasn’t a reason for you to notice. Before, you weren’t secretly hooking up with a long-time friend on camera for his viewers. Before, you were confident where you stood with Yoongi: a good, albeit a little distant friend that you’d never really consider doing much one-on-one with, but comfortable enough to pair up in crowds.

Now as you see him hanging a rain-slicked jacket, shaking droplets of water out of his damp, ink-black hair, you have no idea what to do. Before was easy. Now is a little bit confusing, especially because you haven’t really spoken much from his little how to give a blowjob segment.

Yoongi looks the same as he always does: t-shirt stretching across a broad slope of shoulders, dark hair curling beneath his ears and resting against milky skin, his onyx eyes fixated on you where you stare at him. All forms of greeting vanish from your brain in a snap.

“Hi,” he offers, eyes dragging up and down your frame. That one look makes your fingers tighten on your wine glass with almost enough pressure to crack it. “Can I bother you for some assistance?”

Yoongi nudges two cardboard box crates full of wine with the toe of his boot. “That’s what Jin sent me for. Holy shit, where do you get all the wine?”

“Friend of a friend owns a winery and they let me pick out two bottles every month. I’m not much of a wine person but they’re great gifts and even better for dinner parties.”

Walking to where he stands in the doorway, you bend at the knee to grab one of the crates by the handle. It’s a hefty weight as you lift it, grunting slightly. “I don’t think we needed a dozen bottles of wine tonight.”

“They’re not just for Jin.” Yoongi smirks as you turn away, stomach flipping. “I brought some for you.”

“Me?” He hums in agreement as you both head toward the kitchen. “For what?”

“Helping me, obviously.”

“Oh. I see.”

“And you said you liked red sparkling wine. I happen to have a few.”

Noise from the kitchen drowns out any response you can think of. With your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you haul the crate up onto the counter, careful not to knock over the glass of wine next to Chaeyoung’s hand. Yoongi sets his next to you and surprises you by not moving away.

Yoongi starts pulling bottles out and assigning them to friends around the room. Taehyung takes his with greedy hands, eyes flashing as he reads the label and settles back against the counter.

When Yoongi doesn’t touch the second crate, Taehyung notices, pouting. “What about those?”

“Not for you,” Yoongi grunts, focused on pulling the cork from one of the red bottles he’s selected. Hair presses against his neck and temples where it’s still damp. Suddenly, you have the urge to reach out and brush the strands from his skin, but you don’t. “I’m sorry, was a vintage French wine not enough for you?”

Taehyung cradles the bottle to his chest and you have the answer.

Conversation settles around you. Yoongi takes your now-empty glass of wine as he asks Seokjin questions about work, filling the glass with a fizzy red. You watch him curiously. He doesn’t look at you as sets your glass down, corking the bottle.

The wine is sweet and bubbly against your tongue, with a hint of depth and a little bit of cherry. You immediately like it, wrapping both hands around the glass and nursing it like a cup of tea as you exist between the multiple conversations in the room.

In all, your group dinners usually waver between ten and eleven people. Currently, you’re eight strong with conversations ping-ponging across the room and glasses being slid across the countertop in a fashion that would rival Manhattan’s subway systems.

When you had arrived earlier to help Seokjin set up for the gathering, you’d come with shaky hands, breath held, and winced every time he began to ask you something. But Seokjin never asked you the question, which led you to believe your best friend doesn’t know you’ve been hooking up with Yoongi for his cams.

Taehyung’s arrival had been another test. The younger had been your close friend for about as long as Seokjin, and is the only member of your group who has hooked up with Yoongi both on and off camera. There’s no love lost there – they were friends during and remained friends after, completely uninterested in the other romantically.

Thankfully, Taehyung never asked you about Yoongi. He was all smiles with an already-opened wine bottle, purple-stained teeth, and a little smudge of wine on the corner of his mouth.

It is a well-known fact that if anyone is going to be a walking callout and accountability police for your group of friends, it’s Taehyung. And yet he doesn’t even look suspicious when Yoongi leans over the counter to reach for a folded piece of prosciutto, placing his hand delicately on the back of your shoulder for balance.

Yoongi’s touch is only there for a moment and yet you come alive underneath your shirt. Your heart races as you take a few gulps of wine in an attempt to steady your nerves. The room feels hotter and you shift back and forth on your feet, heat creeping into every part of you.

If he notices, Yoongi says nothing. He pops the piece of meat between rose-red lips and frowns at something Namjoon is saying.

Studying his side profile is devastating. Even from a side view, he is exquisite, the soft slope of his nose the perfect compliment to round cheeks, a plush mouth and cat eyes.

Yoongi catches you staring. You clear your throat and look upward at the light fixtures, sipping your glass of sparkling wine to look busy. He leans his elbow on the counter, facing you completely and you know you’ve caught his attention.

Shit.

A direct conversation outside of whatever you’ve been doing with Yoongi on your weekends is exactly what you want to avoid. You’re unsure how to talk to him, unsure if you’re friends or if he’s doing what you guys are doing with other people – he is well within his right to do so and you know that.

But lately, thoughts of Yoongi have been haunting your every waking thought. The way his rough hands brushed over your supple thighs and gripped them tight when he went down on you, or the greedy way he liked to suck your tongue into his mouth just after you’ve come on his tongue or the way he gets breathy just from kissing the expanse of your neck.

The list of things you think about with Min Yoongi is never-ending and they don’t go away. On more than one occasion when your phone has gone off, your heart leaped at the thought that maybe it was him wanting to do another feature. But since the blowjob, you hadn’t really heard from him.

That’s okay. You’re friends, but you aren’t the chatty kind of friends. At least, you weren’t before. Now you have no idea what you are, and the thought of having to navigate it right there in the kitchen, surrounded by other friends makes you put your glass of wine down and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

Heart hammering, you follow the steps to Seokjin’s guest bathroom blindly. The way isn’t hard to find – you’ve walked this place a million times.

With the door shut behind you, your nerves unwind a fraction. Turning a faucet, you splash some cool water on your neck. It smells like eucalyptus and mint thanks to the plugged-in scent that doubles as a nightlight. You’ve never been happier to have helped Seokjin pick them out, closing your eyes and letting the smell help you relax.

Getting so worked up over Yoongi feels ridiculous. The rush of the water past your shaking fingers relaxes you and the nervousness you felt at Yoongi’s easy touch peters out.

Being around Yoongi and doubting yourself is hard. You don’t know how to stop thinking about the one thing that has been haunting you more and more, especially when he’s in the same room as you.

You want more.

It feels like a poison, increasing in severity as you acknowledge that your interest in Yoongi has shifted from sexual curiosity to… something else. Something that makes your breath catch when he murmurs baby against sweaty, sticky skin. Something that makes you shake when he puts the weight of his hips on yours as he swallows you whole, consuming you until there’s nothing left but want.

Want want want want.

You always want him and you have no idea what to do with it.

A knock on the door startles you. You stare at the door, hands dripping over the sink filling and draining with water.

“You okay?” your stomach flips when the voice you suspected comes through the door, low and soft.

“Yeah.”

“You sick?”

“No.”

Too shaken to lie, you turn off the faucet and wipe your hands on a towel before opening the door. Yoongi is standing in the dim hallway, eyes shadowed by the lack of light. He smells like his cologne and a hint of mint.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you offer quickly. His brows pull together and you flick the light off in the bathroom to signal you’re done. “Strong wine.”

“You’ve been weird since I got here. Do you want me to leave?” Yoongi doesn’t move. Surprise fills you as you look up at him. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable or if friendship isn’t something you’re interested in anymore.”

“No!” You wince at how loud your voice is.

Thinking better of it, you flick the light of the bathroom back on and pull him inside. His hand is warm and rough in yours and you immediately don’t want to let go after he closes the door with his other hand, but you do.

“No,” you murmur and pause. Yoongi is close, the shared space is smaller now that he’s filling it with you. He leans against the tiled wall, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps strain against his shirt sleeves and you fight off a shudder. “I just… I’m sorry, you make me a little nervous.”

He hums. “You’ve been in a relationship for a while, is it safe to assume you haven’t really hooked up with a friend casually?” You nod. He offers a soft smile. It’s not as cocky and self-assured as his smirks are. “You can just be yourself. I really like you that way.”

Your eyes flit up to him. “It’s hard.”

“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! No. It’s…” You blow out air, looking up at the ceiling to take the pressure off of you. His gaze is intense. Yoongi still looks unperturbed. It feels like everything comes easily to him. “I just like spending time with you and it’s a little confusing where we stand.”

Realization settles on Yoongi’s features when you peak at him. He takes a moment, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to contemplate your words. Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you decide you’ve said the wrong thing and you’re about to leave when Yoongi says, “Come home with me after dinner.”

“What?”

He smiles. “Come home with me after dinner.”

“I…”

“You don’t have to. But I’d like you to. Off camera.”

Your heart flutters and you stare at him, mouth open slightly. “Off?” You clarify. “Off camera?”

“Just us.”

“Really?”

His laugh is deep, brushing against parts of you that make your toes curl. He reaches for you, fingers gripping the bottom of your shirt and giving you a sharp yank. A gasp escapes you as you crash into his chest, hands pressed against the firmness of him as he looks down the slope of his nose at you, lips twitching.

Yoongi is beautiful, but up close you can’t focus on anything else but the way his eyes glitter, or the way the wine stains his lips the perfect shade of red or the way he has the barest hint of freckles across his cheekbones.

The way he looks at you says thousands of things and you don’t know what any of them are, but you want to. You want again.

“Yeah.” His words are barely audible. “Really.”

Without warning, Yoongi closes the space between you, pressing your lips together in a soft kiss. Before you can enjoy the sweet taste of wine and the warmth of him against you, his mouth is gone, leaving you flustered and hungry for more.

Yoongi laughs. “Don’t pout. Later. Come on, I was supposed to see if you’re sick. Dinner is ready.”

Dinner is easier after your conversation with Yoongi. Between Seokjin and Yoongi, you’re more involved in the conversation than you were earlier. As the chatter dies down after dinner and everyone enjoys their wine, you feel Yoongi’s arm press against your back as he rests it against the back of your chair.

The room is warm as you lean back, sliding your eyes to look at Yoongi. He’s not looking at you, completely wrapped up in a conversation with Chaeyoung. His arm is looped casually, skin against the back of your shirt warm through the fabric. Heat creeps up your neck into your face and you bite down a smile as you turn back to Seokjin.

If Seokjin notices anything, he doesn’t say it. Taehyung, however, definitely notices.

Taehyung’s sharp gaze is laser-focused on you, capturing your attention beyond Seokjin. His eyes meet yours and flicker to Yoongi’s hand where it rests against you before coming back up to meet your eyes. Your mouth feels dry for a split second before Taehyung grins and wags his eyebrows at you. He throws a wink your way before turning away.

A quiet, slow breath of relief escapes you. Taehyung knows something is different but doesn’t care. That is at least one less hurdle to overcome, though you know he’ll needle you about it later.

That is if he doesn’t do any digging around on Yoongi’s cam profile.

When dinner is over and there are buzzed, soft goodbyes happening at the door, you find yourself next to Yoongi who claps Seokjin on the shoulder, informing him that Yoongi will drive you home. You’re not drunk, but you hold the giant carton of wine Yoongi has dedicated to you while you kiss Seokjin on the cheek and say your goodbyes.

Taehyung presses a kiss to your cheek, slips toward your ear, and murmurs, “You’ll have to fill me in.”

You bite your lip but nod, feeling nervous as you shuffle out of the apartment with Yoongi at your back.

It’s cooler outside, the air a relief against too-warm skin. Yoongi takes the carton from you, heaving it far easier than you were as he walks down the stairs easily. Rain-scented air greets you in the parking lot, the pavement still damp. You jump around puddles, navigating to his nondescript, black car.

Yoongi opens the door with a cheeky grin. “For you.”

“Thanks,” you answer, rolling your eyes. His grin spreads when he shuts the door and rounds the vehicle to place your wine in the back and slip into the front seat.

Inside the car is meticulously clean and smells faintly of cologne and leather. Music plays softly in the background, almost imperceptible over the hum of the engine and the buzz of the tires on the highway as he drives toward his apartment.

The city is made up of stars spilled on a black canvas, winking in the night as he drives with one hand firmly on the wheel. The other slips to your thigh, giving you a squeeze. The gesture tugs at your heart and your fingers shake with a touch of excitement as you look over at him.

“How was your week?” he asks, slipping into a simple conversation.

This feels easy. You tentatively let your hand rest on top of his against your thigh. When his thumb brushes over your jeans you feel hot. You know there are goosebumps under the material, popping up every time his thumb strokes back and forth.

Though it feels wrong to compare Yoongi to your ex-boyfriend, you can’t help it. You don’t remember the last time you felt an intimate hold on your thigh or hand while driving. You don’t remember fielding questions about your favorite movie – Spirited Away – and why.

Yoongi and your ex are very different. Maybe he was different at the beginning – it was college and it’s hard to remember. Yoongi was always different though, a comforting and quiet presence in plenty of your memories.

Now Yoongi presses against your mind like glass, leaving fingerprints everywhere he touches. You don’t mind, especially when he grips your hand tight after helping you out of the car, leading you up to his apartment.

Linked hands swinging in the cool night, bottles of wine clinking softly and the squeeze of Yoongi’s fingers around yours before he lets your hand go to open his door is something you could get used to.

The thought is terrifying. There is no routine here. Nothing familiar except the smell of his candles long put out, and the dark softness of a familiar apartment. But you’ve never been here when there is no camera set up in his room. You’ve never been here without the bright halo of a ring light.

Yoongi turns on a lamp, leaving most of his home in mood lighting. He gestures to a bottle of wine and you nod, sliding onto a stool at his island countertop. He moves around his apartment silently, feet scuffing on the title as he slides a bottle out from your gifted crate to pop the cork. You grin as he pours you a modest glass.

It’s different from the wine you tried before – it’s on the drier side, but there are still notes of chocolate and heady fruit. The bubbles tickle your tongue as Yoongi pours himself a glass, coming around the counter toward you.

Genuine surprise sparks through you when Yoongi doesn’t take the seat next to you. Rather, he walks behind you wrapping an arm around your waist as he hugs you to his chest, slotting his chin against your shoulder while he sets his hand and wineglass on the counter next to yours.

Heart hammering, you turn your head to the side slightly to look at him. You can only see an up-close visual of the side of his face, but he’s stunning nonetheless. He has to be able to feel the way your heart slams against your ribcage as he squeezes you slightly, lips turned upward. His heartbeat is a steady rhythm against you, his breathing deep and soothing.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi.”

“Missed having you around.”

“You could have called.”

He shrugs a bit and lifts his wine. You watch as he struggles to sip correctly with his chin on your shoulder, making you giggle a bit. He places the wine back on the counter. “I wasn’t sure if you would want me to without the invitation of helping me out.”

“Really?”

“I mean – we’re friends but we’ve never hung out one-on-one until you started helping me. I didn’t want to push a limit by asking you to come over if that wasn’t what you wanted.”

It’s true – it was the exact same fear you’ve harbored all week. Hearing Yoongi repeat back your own anxiety melts you, the remaining stress leaving as you press your weight back into him, pivoting slightly in your seat so that you’re angled a bit better.

Long lashes blink above starry eyes. His cheeks are a touch pink – cotton candy against tan skin. Berry lips smirk at you, so close you can smell the sweet wine on his breath. You imagine his mouth tastes like dark cherries and a hint of chocolate.

“What do you want?” Yoongi’s words are breathy against your warmed skin. “Just curious. You don’t have to answer. You don’t even have to know. But I get the sense that you want something.”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyes zeroing in on his. You could fall into those depths and keep falling forever. “I just- I just know that I want. It’s a feeling I can’t get rid of. I don’t know what to do with all of this want.”

“Give it to me,” Yoongi answers. “Give all of it to me.”

Before you can formulate a response, his lips are on yours. He turns you to face him fully, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands grip the sides of your neck. He pulls you in and you feel that want bloom again. He tastes just as you expected, sweet like wine. His kiss is hungry, matching the desire that has been gnawing at you for weeks.

Yoongi licks into your mouth, tongue ravenous as he tastes you. He pulls away for a moment, teeth pulling at your bottom lip as he catches a short breath before melding his mouth to yours again.

His hair is silk between your fingers, slipping easily as you pull him closer and closer and closer. Want pools low in your belly and you squirm in the seat. One of his hands moves toward the base of your throat, fitting his fingers perfectly on either side to give a gentle squeeze.

Both of you part slightly, exchanging breath as you pant, lips an inch apart and glossy. You open your eyes to look at him. His pupils are a little blown, looking at you like he wants to devour him. You would willingly crack yourself open for him and let him have his way with you, the craving for him overriding every anxiety and instinct you have.

“Color?” he asks, breathless. You feel lightheaded, your fingers wrapped firmly in his hair to keep you from floating away. His grip on you is firm but you want more. “I need to know.”

“Green,” you whisper. You tug his hair gently. “Please.”

It’s the only word you can think of. It’s the only word you need.

Yoongi understands. He asks nothing else of you as he reclaims your lips, nose brushing against yours as your tongue tastes the softness of his lips.

Kissing Yoongi always takes you somewhere else. You no longer feel like you’re in his kitchen, pulling and clawing at one another against the marble countertop. You feel like you’re in a place in-between, tangible and yet not quite there.

Floating forward, you let Yoongi pull you from the seat. His hands are on your waist, waltzing you toward his room. You know the steps. There’s no need to open your eyes, navigating the dark space as you slide your hands under the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin.

Yoongi’s stomach is soft, muscles jumping under your touch. He breaks the kiss, dragging spit-slicked lips across your jaw. He catches your skin between his teeth in soft nibbles, a soft sting followed by a soothing tongue.

Running your hands under his shirt, you flatten your palms. He feels warm and thrumming, full of life. You tilt your head backward, letting him suck and bite and moan into the soft flesh of your throat.

Everything is spinning. You feel unbalanced as he clutches you by the waist. You bow into him, Yoongi pressing you further and further as his teeth trace the bottom of your neck.

It feels like the bubbles from your sparkling wine are trapped in your veins. Yoongi’s hands slide to your ass, kneading you over your jeans. He pulls you in tighter, presses every part of you against him. It feels hungry and desperate, drawing a gasp from your mouth as you crush yourself against him.

A pat on your ass is your only warning as Yoongi bends slightly at the knee. You jump as he hoists you and turns, sitting on the bed with you in his lap. Your hands fly to his shoulders as he gives you the higher ground, your face hovering above his as he casts his head back to look at you, pupils blinking at you like twin moons.

For a moment, you don’t initiate kissing again. With one hand on his shoulder, you use the other to trace the veins in his neck, feeling his pulse throb under your fingers for a brief moment as you drag them upward.

Yoongi is a work of art. He lets you map the canvas of his face with the tips of your fingers. Soft, round cheeks. A strong brow bone. Gentle, rounded nose. Plush, pouted lips. You trace the faint freckles, almost invisible in the darkness of his room. You’re so close you could count his lashes as they flutter closed, a hum escaping him as your fingers brush his bottom lip.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur. The accidental admission makes your touch freeze, eyes flying to his to see if there is any rejection there.

Yoongi doesn’t open his eyes when he says, “Why’d you stop? Feels nice. Your touch always feels good.”

Lips twitching into a smile, you continue, finger following the curve of his jaw. Your eyes keep flickering to his mouth, though, and soon you’re diving in for more, pressing your lips to his as you give a tentative rock of your hips, grinding into him.

Yoongi’s reaction is immediate. He hums in delight, the hands resting on your ass giving a generous squeeze. He lets you play with him – fingers teasing the hair at the back of his neck, your mouth exploring the areas you’ve already traced with your fingers, your hips rocking slowly at whatever pace you desire.

Arousal pools in your stomach, low and sinking. You break briefly when he pulls your shirt over your head, a glossy line of spit connecting your mouths for just a second, broken by the shirt.

Every brush of his hands on your skin brings fire. You’ve never known touch like this, never thought you could want something so much. You want everything from him, you want to scream, you want to collapse into him on the bed.

Yoongi’s mouth is ravenous, sucking the swells of your breasts as he pulls your bra off of you. you lean backward, chest pushed toward his mouth, head cast back and eyes closed. Yoongi knows what you want, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. A moan escapes, his tongue flicking back and forth over your pert bud while his other hand comes up to squeeze your other tit generously.

Every flick of his tongue, pluck of his teeth and his moans vibrating from his lips to your chest sends you spinning. It’s an effort to cling to his shoulders, keeping you sitting in his lap instead of tumbling backward. You feel like if you let go, you wouldn’t even fall – you’d just float upward toward the ceiling, toward heaven.

The world tilts. Yoongi lays backward, careful to keep you balanced against his hips. You gasp, equilibrium thrown and feeling like you’ve crashed into another dimension. You sit up for a moment, dizzy and looking down at Yoongi while you straddle his waist. His hair fans around him, lips swollen and dark from kissing. His chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes half-lidded but pupils blown.

With possessive hands you pull at his shirt, making a sound somewhere between a huff and a whine. He chuckles, his traditional sideways smirk taking over his expression as he leans up, helping you remove his shirt.

In your dreams, you remember what Yoongi’s skin feels like. It pales in comparison to the warmth of him now, firm chest under your adventuring fingertips, his heart jumping as you lean down to teeth at his collarbone.

Under you, Yoongi is a vision. Little curses escape his lips, almost like he can’t stop them. He rolls his hips into yours, seeking friction, drawing out moans from your lips, breath drifting across his skin.

Yoongi is flushed all over and his patience for your seeking mouth is at an end. He rolls the two of you, making you squeal as your back hits the mattress and his weight sinks on top of you. It’s heavy and the air is hot between you, his lips brushing your earlobe as he nips you.

“Color?” his voice is deeper.

“Green.”

For a moment he doesn’t answer. Instead, he sucks gently on your ear, breathing low and soft as he exhales. “Turn over,” he instructs gently. “Jeans off, perfect ass in the air.”

Pulling away from you, Yoongi gives you space to pull at the button on your jeans. He joins your shuffling, tearing at his own jeans. In moments you’re both kicking the material from your ankles, giggling as you lose balance and he catches you by the elbows, placing a kiss on your nose.

“Cute,” you hum.

He grins. “Ass up,” he reminds you.

With an eye roll, you do as he says despite the excitement shooting through you. You’re on your knees shuffling to your elbows when he slaps your ass with a loud crack, making you gasp more from surprise than pain. His hand is quick to rub over the stinging flesh, pressure in his fingers firm as he massages dimpled skin.

“Sorry,” he snickers. “I couldn’t help myself, I should have asked.”

“I liked it.”

He hums and smacks your ass again, much lighter, though. “Noted.” His hand drifts toward the apex of your thighs, thumb pressing firmly over your clothed hole. The pressure is a surprise, making you moan out loud, forehead dropping to his sheets.

“Fucking wet.”

Yoongi is right. You’re soaked, the thin material of your cotton underwear clinging to your folds. The pressure of his thumb gently drifting up and down your pussy is enough to make your eyes roll back, breathing becoming shuddered as he absently plays with you.

His thumb leaves you and your eyes flutter open, already missing the pressure. He distracts you when his hands drift to the elastic waistband and asks, “Color?”

“Green.”

“Mmm. Good.”

Yoongi all but rips the underwear to your knees. He leans forward and bites the apple of your ass lightly, making you laugh as he waits for you to lift one knee at a time to slide the material off.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he asks, pulling his teeth away. The air cools your skin where you can feel his spit. “I said I like your ass.”

“So you try to eat it?”

He pauses long enough that you frown, turning to look over your shoulder at him.

It’s a vulnerable position, your knees spread apart with your aching pussy on display for him. You squirm slightly, seeing him look at you with an expression between inquisitive and hungry. “Has anyone?”

“Has anyone what?”

You shiver in the cold room, unable to sit still as the cool air hits you between the legs. Your eyes flutter lightly and you desperately want him to close the distance between any part of him and your heat.

“Eaten your ass?” That makes you open your eyes. You shake your head no and he grins, shuffling close to you. His hands go back to your round cheeks, rubbing his palms over chilled skin to warm them again. “Can I? We don’t have to. I definitely want to eat this pussy.” A hand sips between your legs, fingers deftly brushing up your wet slit. “Wanna play with your ass too.”

“Are you…” the words drift off as you lick your lips.

No one has done that before. It isn’t that you’re afraid of someone’s mouth being there or afraid you won’t like it. It’s just different and no one has offered it before and it never occurred to you to ask. 

But it’s Yoongi asking now, and your curiosity is piqued.

Yoongi must sense your nervousness. He squeezes you. “We don’t have to, forget I-“

“I want to,” you cut him off. You chew your bottom lip. “I think. I don’t know what it feels like.”

He smiles. “I like it. We can always stop if you’re not enjoying it. If it’s not good, tell me.” His pointer finger presses to your clit, making you sigh as pleasure shoots down your spine at the pressure. “First, this.”

Yoongi vanishes from your vision. You feel the bed dip where he leans, his hands skating from your ass to your thighs, rubbing up and down. Your eyes close and you sink your face into his bed as he places chaste kisses on the back of your thighs.

Fear of imperfection does not exist here. None of your previous concerns cross your mind with Yoongi – not anymore. Especially when he digs his fingers into the meat of your thighs and strokes his tongue slowly up your slit.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you whine, unable to help yourself as pleasure shivers through you. It feels different from this angle as Yoongi slowly laps at your cunt with his tongue, mouth giving your pussy a gentle suck. “Yoongi- nnn.”

His hum vibrates through you as he leans in to gently pull at your clit with his lips. “My favorite fucking pussy.”

Even if you could respond, you don’t. Yoongi shoves his face in your cunt, tongue licking slowly and greedily. You can feel yourself dripping, fingers knotting in his sheets as he mouths at you.

The feeling that twists in your stomach is so tight that you feel like you sink further and further into his mattress, turning boneless. Yoongi uses his fingers to spread you wide open for him, alternating between fucking his tongue thoroughly into your clenching hole and giving broad, slow stripes up your entire pussy.

If there is one thing you can tell Yoongi enjoys, it’s eating you out. He doesn’t hide his enjoyment, his mouth messy and loud as he sucks at you. His hands do all the work holding you up as he continues to push his face into you.

Unyielding hands skim up to your cheeks. Yoongi spreads you a bit, pressing you into the bed further with the weight of his grip. With another long lick from clit to hole, Yoongi licks past your dripping entrance to tentatively flick at your perineum.

The feeling is different, making you hold your breath. His tongue continues with a few tentative licks and one of his hands leaves your ass, drifting to your clit. Your legs tremble as he applies gentle pressure, circling your clit with his fingers as he flicks his tongue against that new spot again.

It feels… nice.

A sigh leaves you as Yoongi drags his tongue upward, pressing it flat against your tight hole. You sigh as he curiously flicks over the unfamiliar spot. Each new pass of his tongue makes you shiver. You feel a little high, your cotton-candy-mind fuzzy and drifting.

Everything nerve feels like an exposed wire, sparking and jumping as Yoongi presses the flat of his tongue against your rim. The pressure feels good, something you didn’t expect. You relax further into the mattress, melted and mindless.

Noises fall out of your mouth. You're unable to stop them, lips parted and breathing sharply. Sometimes your breaths form his name, a curse, or something in between. The orgasm building in your stomach is white hot, your insides squeezing tightly as you begin to dig your fists into the bed, trying to release the tension.

“Color?” Yoongi asks. You mumble something incoherent, eyes rolling backward under closed lids. He presses a finger harder to your clit. “Color, baby. Try to tell me.”

“Green.”

You think it comes out something like grnn or gren – it's hard to tell with your words muffled in his dark sheets and the heavy feeling of your tongue in your mouth.

“All fucked out?” his words are deep as he kisses your ass cheek. “Feels good?”

“Mhmm.”

“You gonna be able to take my cock?”

You nod desperately. You want to feel the weighted slide of Yoong inside you, want to feel the pleasure as he sinks in. But you haven’t even cum from his efforts with his mouth yet and you feel dangerously close to passing out from delight.

But you want him. So you search for some clarity and come to, clearing your throat and getting up to your elbow as you gently push your ass backward him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”

“Mmm.” Yoongi dips his head down and gives a quick prod with his tongue. You drop your forehead to the bed, panting heavily and arms shaking. He pulls away briefly before spitting, making your muscles spasm as you gasp. “Cute little hole.”

You hear the grin in his voice. “Fuck - Yoongi.”

Carefully, Yoongi’s fingers go back to your clit, circling faster. Your stomach lurches. Warmth spreads over your skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, shoving your ass backward to meet his hungry mouth. It feels like you’re going to explode, your pleasure so tightly wound that you know you’ll snap at any second.

Everything clenches all at once. You gasp and hold your breath. Your orgasm rushes out of you, pussy pulsing against Yoongi’s mouth as he hungrily sucks and licks at you. You can feel his hands rubbing up and down your thighs, the press of his mouth firm and unrelenting as you tremble against the sheets.

Catching your breath is hard. Yoongi pulls away from you as your legs give out on the bed. His palms are steady, kneading the flesh of your ass as he lets you claw your way back to the world of the living. Everything feels thick and heavy in your head as you roll over, breathless.

Yoongi kisses your knees and thighs, hands never pulling away from you. You look at him and you twitch through another shiver. The air is cold against your body but you feel over-warmed by your orgasm and the heat of his gaze as he stares at you.

Surging forward, you reach for the hem of his boxers, hardened cock straining under the dark fabric. Yoongi watches with lips curved upward as you sit up and shuffle to him, hands hanging loosely at his side. You feel the burn of his gaze as you brush your fingers up his shaft, feeling him through the material of his briefs.

Yoongi hisses, making you glance up at him as you use a finger to delicately trace the outline of his straining cock. His eyes are closed, head tilted toward the ceiling in prayer. You grin, gripping him firmly through the fabric, the curve of him heavy and warm in your hand.

“Mm don’t tease,” he mumbles. “I didn’t tease you.”

“This is fun, though.” You dip your hands under the elastic waistband and grip Yoongi’s cock firmly. His hips twitch and he opens and closes his fists, his breath coming out shaky. “You’re pretty.”

Carefully, Yoongi helps you take his briefs off before letting you mouth at him. He hums in response but otherwise remains to kneeling with his eyes closed, letting you do what you want.

Watching Yoongi’s minute expressions and body language as you pull him out in full is fascinating. His lips and brows twitch when you take his cock in your palm, stroking to the tip to gather the precum there. You work your hand up and down firmly, lubricating his cock with gentle twists.

Little sounds escape Yoongi’s mouth, making your grin spread. Everything he does pulls you in. His hips thrust lightly into your hand, his mouth is parted, neck shining with a light layer of sweat. It’s addicting, the way he loses himself at your touch, completely at ease and safe in your hands.

Surging forward, you take the crown of his dick into your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He curses loudly, a hand shooting to your head. His fingers are firm against your scalp, not pushing but clinging to you desperately as you low the spit in your mouth to dribble down the sides of his cock.

The salty taste on your tongue spurs you further, sliding down a little further each time you bob your head. It’s slick and messy but you don’t care, using a combination of your tongue and hollowed cheeks to slurp at Yoongi generously. You hum around him as you pull away from him with an audible pop, a string of spit chasing you.

Yoongi, though appreciative, has had enough. He surges toward you, pulling you gently by the hair to lay you back as he crawls on top of you, lips going to your neck and jaw. He presses himself between your hips. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate him, hips sticky with sweat and leaking arousal where your skin presses flush together.

For a few seconds, Yoongi’s mouth leaves you to reach for a drawer. You don’t know what spurs you still is movement, hand wrapping around his forearm firmly. He glances down to see you, your eyes round and hopeful.

“No condom?” he asks, arching a brow.

“We exchanged test results,” you murmur. It’s true – you had done that before hooking up with him in the first place. “And I’m on birth control. I mean – we don’t – sorry. I realize that’s not-“

He interrupts your thoughts with a soft kiss. “I want whatever you want.”

“I just…” his breath is hot against your face, his nose brushing against yours. “I realize that you may have other partners, I didn’t mean to assume and-“

“I don’t.” You stare at him, heart beating wildly. “It’s just been you since we started. I’d tell you if I was sleeping with more than just you.”

“Oh.”

You feel his smile more than you see it, his lips pressing against your cheek. “So you want me to fuck you raw, huh?”

You laugh at the way he says it, shoving at him slightly. He doesn’t budge, nipping your chin. “Just wanna feel you.”

“Fuck. Okay.” His hands scrape up your sides, cupping your tits as he licks and sucks the flesh around them. “How do you want it, hmmm?”

Instead of answering him, you roll, pressing your ass toward him. Yoongi kisses up your back, hands coming to either side of you as he cages you in with his chest.

“Mmm.”

Yoongi gets to his knees as you shift to all fours, looking over your shoulder at him as he shuffles behind you. His chest is pink and red, splotchy with warmth, and flushed from effort. He strokes his proud cock a few times, your eyes zeroing in on the motion. His tip is flushed scarlet from your teasing and slick with spit and precum.

His other hand comes to dip between your legs, teasing your clenching hole lightly. You whine and shimmy your hips, pressing toward him. He tsks at you but grins before pulling you open a little more. He has your knees spread far apart as he grips the base of his heavy cock to prod your entrance.

“Fuck.” You go down to your forearms, ass higher than your head. He makes a sound between a laugh and a moan as he slips his cockhead further, running it up and down your pussy to gather your slick. You’re a dripping mess and you don’t care. “Yoongi.”

“Yeah?” He asks as he slides his cock past your entrance again. You clench around noting, frustration building. “Want it, hmmm?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, you’ll get it.”

Even though he warns you, Yoongi catches you off guard as he glides his cock forward, making it a point to slide in this time. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as you breathe in sharply, the pressure of him sliding in on one thrust sending you spinning.

Yoongi’s cock is thick, filling every part of you as he sinks to the hilt. You feel his hips pressed against you, still for a moment as your pussy flutters around him. Your hands twist in the sheets, trying to ground you as you breathe through pleasure with the barest hint of pain.

“You okay?” his voice is deep and rumbling, pulling you back to reality.

You nodded your head, forehead pressed to the bed. “Feels so fucking full.”

Yoongi let’s out a breathy sound as he pulls back, the slide of him glorious against your walls before he thrusts in again. He glides without resistance, each slow pull sparking in the softness of you. Moans drip from your tongue.

Every roll of Yoongi’s hips is measured, setting a deep, gentle-stroked pace. It feels so good, like the tip of his cock is in the deepest parts of you.

When you start to thrust your ass back to meet him, Yoongi grunts, picking up the pace in earnest, fucking into you with force. You feel the weight he puts behind it, his cock brushing your spot each time and fuck you swear his cock is hitting the depth of your stomach, so deep you’re delirious.

“Oh god,” you gasp, trying to get a single, steady breath in. It’s hard, breathing past the electricity humming along each vein and the pleasure curling its fingers in your stomach. “Fuck – holy shit – fuck.”

“Pussy feels so fucking good,” Yoongi growls. He’s fucking you harder now, the slap of his hips against your ass audible. “You’re so wet, just fucking drooling on my cock.”

“Deep,” you manage to moan out, the only word that rolls around your rapidly emptying mind.

Yoongi changes the angle, hiking a foot up so that he’s almost lunging over you. His fingers claw into your hips, pulling you backward to spear you on his cock over and over and over. It feels so goddamn good that you should have known you would be a goner for him.

And then he introduces a thumb pressed firmly to your ass, the pressure on the nerves there enough to make you fall forward. Your breath gets caught in his sheets as Yoongi’s thumb circles your tight rim, not slipping in but playing with it enough to send your eyes back in your head.

You’re unsure if you’re even participating as you skyrocket toward another orgasm. You can’t say anything, can’t think anything – you’re helpless and whining as you suddenly go taught like a bowstring, pussy clenching around his cock as you come.

Yoongi is vocal, grunting as you squeeze him. He fucks you even harder, elevating your high. A squeal escapes you as you shake from overstimulation, the pleasure blinding you momentarily and making you go numb.

Everything flips as Yoongi pulls out and rolls you. It’s not graceful, but your tangled limbs follow his hands and movements as he spreads you out on his bed, breathing hard. His hair sticks to his forehead, slick cock bobbing against his stomach as he stares down at you. In return, you blink back up at him. You’re on the border of something like subspace, the pleasure sending you into a dark, fuzzy corner of your mind.

“Color?” he asks, hands soft on your spread thighs.

“Green.” You lace one of your hands with his, squeezing. Hair sticks to the back of your neck and the sheets beneath you smell like sweat and cum but you don’t care. “Green.”

“Can you give me one more? Wanna see your face when you lose it.”

You nod and reach for him. He seems confused but leans down, letting you brush sweaty hair from his face. His eyes close at the soft touch, letting you press the pads of your fingers into damp skin as you trace the shape of his features again.

“Wanna see you too,” you admit softly.

That earns a smile from Yoongi, the kind where he ducks his head shyly and it’s all gums and crinkled eyes. You love when he smiles like that. It makes your heart flutter, interrupted only when he thrusts back into you without warning.

You gasp and he chuckles. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you manage to grit out. You arch your back as Yoongi pauses to lean back, grabbing your right leg, lifting it and shifting your position so that both of your legs are pressed together, draped over his shoulder as he leans into you. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” he pants, setting a hard and fast pace as he fucks into you. “I know.”

The angle is divine. Your thighs pressed together make your pussy feel tighter. You swear you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as Yoongi fucks into you hard. His thrusts are shallower and he bites his bottom lip, focusing on the way his cock disappears inside your heat.

In this position, you can watch him. His stomach flexes with every movement, muscles jumping and twitching. His hips are glossy with sweat and cum, but he doesn’t care. One hand grips your half, fingers dimpling in your skin while the other holds your hip.

One of your hands shoots to the hand at your hip, gripping his wrist as your eyes roll back into your head. You feel your orgasm again, rapidly approaching though not as strong as the second one. You can’t remember anyone ever making you cum over and over like this, but Yoongi is relentless, chasing after it.

“Touch your clit for me baby.” He’s busy holding your legs and hip to do the work for you. He kisses your calf, gentle in comparison to the way he’s throwing all of his weight into his thrusts. “I’m so fucking close.”

Following his instructions makes you squirm. You deftly circle your throbbing clit with your fingers, the stimulation making you shudder and whine. He laughs and encourages you to keep going.

The sensitivity is replaced with mind-numbing pleasure. You can feel your third release on the horizon, your breath hitching, and your moans coming out as high-pitched staccatos.

“Shit,” he curses, head ducked down. “Fucking squeezing me.”

Something about the way he’s fighting to stay composed sends you over the edge. You almost don’t feel yourself come, everything going white-hot and tingling at once. Yoongi come with you, losing his rhythm, curses laced with your name.

Time seems not to exist in the space between you. Yoongi pulls out – you only know because you suddenly feel empty. Cum drips down your entrance to the bed, the sticky feel of it slightly uncomfortable as you lay with your head to the side, unsure how to move or do anything else.

There are no thoughts. There’s just contentment and trying to catch your breath. Everything feels hot all over, like there is a fire burning under your skin. Yoongi collapses next to you, a human furnace. You don’t move away from him though, a hand automatically seeking any part of him to keep the connection between your body.

You find his collarbone, splaying your hand across his skin. His heart thuds underneath your touch. He lays a hand on top of yours, palms sticky with bodily fluids.

As your breathing slows, you don’t know how long you lay there. It feels messy but you’re tired, and just as you begin to teeter into the depth of sleep, Yoongi stirs and nudges you. A whine escapes you, but you let him pull you out of the bed, careful hands guiding you through dim light to shower.

Yoongi doesn’t turn the lights on in the bathroom. A single salt lamp casts a soft glow, more than enough for you to safely step into the glass shower. The spray of hot water uncoils already loose muscles. Your knees buckle a bit when he leaves you, but Yoongi makes sure that you’re standing safely before he steps out briefly and vanishes into the bedroom.

Steam fills the room. You touch sore places of your skin, feel the indents left by teeth and fingers. There’s an ache between your legs – battered pussy begging for sleep, you think.

When Yoongi returns, there is a soft exchange of touches. Yoongi presses soap into your skin, you scratching shampoo into his hair, a brush of swollen lips.

Somehow it feels more intimate than the sex.

After the shower, Yoongi wordlessly gives you clothes of his. You raise a brow but he waves it off, sitting on his bed and peeling back the covers. It’s a sure sign that he wants you to sleep there, and you’re so spent that you don’t think you could fight even if you wanted to.

The shirt and pants combo smell like him and you grin, sliding into the space he’s made on his bed for you. It occurs to you that he changed the sheets and grabbed a new blanket, the ruined ones balled up in a corner near the hamper.

For a moment, you feel hesitation. Yoongi’s bed for sleeping is foreign territory to you, and you’re unsure how he sleeps: does he cuddle, or does he not like to be touched, what side does he lay on what-

Yoongi reaches for you and pulls you toward him, stopping your stream of thoughts. He tucks you into his side as he lays on his back, one hand behind his head and the other wrapped around you tightly.

Sleeping curled into Yoongi’s side is the best sleep you get in months. But when you wake up the next morning, flinching at the bright screen of your phone to check what time it is, everything is long forgotten when you see a single text from your ex.

So what? You’re a pornstar now? Disgusting.

You lock the phone.

Sit in Yoongi’s room as he sleeps deeply behind you for a moment.

And then you get up and leave without a second thought.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[necronatural]

Project Moon Discourse part 6: It's Over (It's Never Over)

My project moon tag is dedicated exclusively for details on this situation make of that what you will

Last time on Project Moon: Geonggi Youth Union and Project Moon User Association (protesting fans faction) gets a legal threat from a an actual legal firm (none of them say as much, but the contents appear to be specified to the Youth Union, so likely a copy-pasted message). PMUA were asked to not ragepost until the Youth Union finished talks with Project Moon, but THAT completely fell through, so they just post it with a translated reply. Kim Jihoon gets MAD mad and says that the Geonggi Youth Union were going after PM to promote their campaign standing! Youth Union says what the fuck are you talking about, how would we do this when it was being handled internally and the public would only see us apologizing? The crux of all this legal threatening is because Vellmori resigned, therefore it wasn't 'unlawful dismissal'.

And now some new updates:

IT union vice chairman Hwanmin Kim realizes that on September 8 the Limbus Company Twitter sent him a cease and desist. Over Twitter DMs. I'm not kidding

A user has translated Hwanmin Kim's explanation of why talks broke down with the Geonggi Youth Union in this Twitter thread. In short: unless Vellmori expresses a desire to be reinstated their hands are tied, as the laws don't adequately protect workers. It seems the "political motivations" accusation is rooted in the fact that the YU is respecting that they can't represent Vellmori's worker rights unless she asks, yet are still campaigning against PM regardless.

The surrounding climate of Korean gaming companies policing women's speech and how the PM case blew up because of that climate has been recorded in a news article that tracks situations as recent as the whole PM/YU/PMUA showdown. You can read it here. They reached Monggeu (the artist for Leviathan) for comment, and Monggeu noted "they asked me not to say anything too 'PC' when I was hired". Another staff member said PM treats workers 'not as people, but as parts'.

HamHamPangPang addresses a rumour that fan gifts are being thrown out, saying the stored items were damaged. Main response has been "with no notice though?" and "how the fuck did that happen?" with some gift-givers noting they have photo evidence of their goods being stored safely. Most people are actually rather forgiving of the manager (HHPP has been totally exempt from all the blowback towards PM's mismanagement thus far) and are casting suspicion on Kim Jihoon.

Most importantly of all, Kim Jihoon posts an apology on the Limbus Company twitter, which is a hell of a thing after the Notes App Ragepost. He far more cordially explains that he says he posted a notice with 'vague wordings', despite the fact that it very explicitly stated 'she violated our rules, and thus we won't be working with her in the future' - the only vague aspect was how Vellmori left the company. I suppose this is a polite way to say 'we fucked her over in hopes the DCInsiders would feel they successfully drew blood and leave the company alone'. At no point does he specify the original DCInside harassment beyond 'the artist was free to go after them legally', just as Hwanmin Kim mentioned.

Also this:

LMAO

It's actually an otherwise reasonable apology and I think it's encouraging that he will finally work with his employees when they come to him with harassment, but he at no point is clear on why on earth it required international protest for him to do so.

But he had time to interject that he wants the Geonggi Youth Union, Hwanmin Kim, and the PMUA annihalated. OK dude

Personally, I support further protest and not spending money on Project Moon titles, this time strictly over refusal to denounce anti-feminist harassment or comment on their mismanagement. Also it's all but explicit the offer PM gave was "either resign and escape by letting DCInside feel they won or stay on and sue them by yourself, we don't want to rock the boat by helping you" and I'm pissed

[duhragonball]

End of Evangelion: 25'

Yeah... that's...

"You don't understand!" is pretty much Neon Genesis Evangelion in a nutshell.

Or "You do (not) understand! (true²) Director's Cut" is how the franchise would put it.

Let's just get on with this.

I watched End of Evangelion last night. Well, early A.M. I took a nap and woke up at midnight and it seemed like the right time to watch a thing like this.

I did not enjoy the movie. I'll explain this, of course, but I wanted to get that out of the way up front. There are positives, sure, but I went into this thing hoping for a more satisfying conclusion than what was presented in the TV show, and I didn't get it. Both endings suck. There you go.

Let me back up a bit. So the TV series ran from 1995 to 1996. The final episodes, 25 and 26, were controversial because they were expected to wrap up the whole story, but instead they went in a bizarrely abstract direction. Both of those episodes apparently take place inside Shinji Ikari's mind as he struggles to accept being part of a collective gestalt of every human mind on Earth. This is the result of the "Human Instrumentality Project" a concept mentioned in Episodes 1 -24, but never adequately explained. The final episodes just skip past the part where Human Instrumentality was achieved and shows the result, without bothering to discuss the background or the cause, or the long-term ramifications.

From what I gather, the main reason Episodes 25 and 26 were Like That was because the studio was short on time and money, so a more satisfying conclusion was not practical. But since the series turned out to be so successful, they were able to take another crack at it with End of Evangelion. The film is very clear about its purpose as an "alternative" to Episodes 25 and 26. It's divided into two sections, numbered 25' and 26'.

I'm not sure the viewer is expected to pick one over the other. The original 25&26 take place in Shinji's mind when Human Instrumentality happens. 25' and 26' take place in the outside world, showing the events leading to Human Instrumentality and the aftermath. There may be some continuity issues to iron out, but a fan could easily accept both endings as canon.

That's not my problem here. The problem is not that there are multiple endings, or that the endings are too "abstract", or that the endings aren't "happy". Fundamentally, my gripe is that the endings are confusing. Perhaps it might be said that the endings are pathologically confusing.

I think this is one of those Big, Emotionally Raw Works, where you can't really discuss it without revealing something about yourself in the process. So let's do that. End of Evangelion makes me feel stupid. There's parts of the movie where I'm just completely confused and I have no idea what is happening or why. It feels less like entertainment and more like I'm about to take a test I didn't study for.

Except I did study, because I've literally been taking notes on this thing for the past three weeks. I was looking forward to this, and last night I'm near the end of the movie wondering what the hell I'm going to write here, because I don't understand what the hell happened in the movie.

So I poked around a fan wiki for a bit, trying to get a handle on some of the major concepts, and as I read the articles, I realized that a lot of this information just stone cold never made it into the TV show or the movie. There was one thing I looked up that had to reference a Playstation 2 game that released six years after the movie premiered.

It's not that I'm too stupid to understand Neon Genesis Evangelion. It's that the franchise appears deliberately designed to hide information from the viewer. You're just supposed to roll with it, I guess. Or spend days researching all this side material. Read the manga, read the wiki, read fan commentaries. I hate this. I hate this so much.

So maybe I'm not stupid. Maybe the anime was just badly designed. That would be comforting, except I still feel stupid for investing so much time into trying to understand this thing that seems purposely rigged to defy understanding. It's not just the ending. That's what everyone talks about, but the ending is just a symptom of a bigger problem. The beginning is really slow. Then the middle starts to get weird, and there's a lot of mysteries and subplots and lore that gets set up with the implied promise that "we'll explain later". And the ending(s) drop that ball. The surgery was a success, but the patient died.

I feel stupid because I got a reply to one of my liveblog posts, I think Episode 12, in response to some comment I made about all the characters having the same backstory. Ritsuko has a complicated relationship with her workaholic scientist mother. Misato has a complicated relationship with her workaholic scientist father. Shinji has a complicated relationship with his workaholic scientist father. Is that a theme or did they only have one idea? My point is that eventually it stops being clever and starts being redundant. Later, we learn that Asuka has... a complicated relationship with her workaholic scientist mother.

"What, are you stupid?" asked the reply guy to my wry observation. They deleted it a few minutes after I saw it, so maybe they felt some remorse over the comment. Normally, I let these things slide. I might respond if I get legitimately hot about it. But this one got to me. "Am I stupid?" I asked myself last week. I seem to be complaining a lot about this show, but it's supposed to be a classic. Am I not giving it a chance? Am I missing something here? Am I just not smart enough to appreciate this thing? Am I just not trying hard enough?

If you're reading this, Reply Guy, please know that I didn't take it personally. I'm not upset with you at all, but I am trying to be honest with myself about this. This Neon Genesis Evangelion business has been frustrating me all month long. Now I'm at the end and it all feels very hollow, like I wasted my time.

I think that's my philosophy on life. I try to seek out new things to explore, usually stories, and sometimes they don't work out the way I wanted them to, and that's okay, because it's the journey that counts. Shinji Ikari keeps shutting down throughout his story, asking why he should bother doing anything, because he's too terrified of the possible outcomes of his actions. My thing is that bad stuff happens all the time no matter what, and you just sort of have to recover and move forward, because that's the only way to see what happens next. So I'm not sure if I can relate to Shinji or not.

Anyway, let's talk about Shinji masturbating in a hospital room over Asuka's comatose body.

I had heard about this scene, but I didn't realize how long and pathetic it is. Asuka had a nervous breakdown in Episode 23. This movie has to follow up on that, becuase Episodes 24, 25, and 26 each refused to pick up on her character arc.

Meanwhile, Shinji is wracked with guilt and dread over his battle with the 17th Angel in Episode 24. He had to kill Kaworu, but in spite of Kaworu's betrayal, he was still a friend to Shinji when he needed it the most, and he was such a good sport about getting killed, you know?

So this movie has to get us back to that moment, when Shinji and Asuka are at their lowest ebb, and I guess they decided that Shinji should go see her in the hospital because he's desperate to talk to someone about what's he's been going through. But Asuka's unresponsive, so he starts shaking her like he's trying to wake her up. Instead she just rolls over, which somehow exposes her half-naked body, and Shinji is so overcome with lust that he rubs one out right there and then. Doesn't even get a Kleenex, doesn't find a place to sit, he just whips it out and goes to town right in front of her.

I guess this is supposed to be a joke, but it doesn't land. It's not even a matter of the joke not aging well. Yeah, this is a 27 year old movie, but Shinji admits this is terrible behavior almost immediately. The "joke" didn't age at all. It was stillborn. This is like when you go to a graveyard and you see one of the tiny graves and the dates are from the same year. That's how funny this is.

The most charitable reading I can give this scene is that it represents the hypocrisy of Shinji's whole deal. He constantly insists that he can only do as he's told, because he's afraid of people not liking him if he makes a mistake or thinks for himself. But here he's doing some pretty disgraceful shit, and I sure as fuck didn't tell him to do this. did you? Did anyone? Of course not. He goes limp for most of the rest of the movie, but not here. Nossir. Seems pretty sure of himself in the minute or so it took him to finish his business.

The other aspect of Shinji on display here is that his ideal social interactions are one-sided. He's most comfortable with people when they can't see what he's doing, when they can't touch him back. That's why he wished for isolation in Episode 25. Here, with Asuka unresponsive, he's basically got the same thing.

I suppose the flip side of this is when Asuka kissed Shinji in the TV series. Her hangups are kind of the opposite of his, where she wants to be in charge of everything and everyone constantly showers her with praise for her achievements. She wants to kiss Shinji but she can't be vulnerable enough to admit that, so she orders him to just stand there and be kissed because she wants to "pass the time". And she makes him hold his nose shut because she doesn't want to be breathed on while she does it. I mean, they both have intimacy issues, but at least Shinji had a chance to consent to her weirdness.

In the NERV base, the crew wonder why they're still on alert status, since the last Angel was defeated. There should be no more threats, and it kind of makes sense for NERV to be disbanded. The only business left is the Human Instrumentality Project, and none of these ham-and-eggers know what that is.

But Misato has some information about it, which she mulls over while she's in her car. I guess? Let me explain this in more detail, because the movie never totally gets into the "why" of it all.

Okay, so the SEELE group has access to something called the "Dead Sea Scrolls". According to the NGE wiki, SEELE got it from the two angels that came to Earth, Adam and Lilith, in the distant past. SEELE has used the information contained in the scrolls to establish themselves as the secret rulers of the whole world. And they founded NERV, and its predecessor organizations, to study the Angels and figure out how to preserve the human race.

They talk a lot about Second Impact on this show, but they never explain exactly what caused it. Second Impact was not a meteorite strike or a rampaging angel who self-destructed, or even a lab accident. It was caused deliberately by SEELE, as part of an effort to contain Adam, who lay dormant in Antarctica.

If I understand correctly, this was necessary because at some point, Second Impact would occur anyway, and then Adam's children, the fifteen Angels we saw in the TV series, would come looking for Adam's body and unite with it, triggering a Third Impact that would definitely wipe out humanity. This is all supposedly explained in the Dead Sea Scrolls.

So SEELE's play was to trigger Second Impact deliberately, so that they could confront the Angels on their own terms. This gave NERV time to develop the Evas to fight the Angels, and to shrink Adam down to a more manageable size so he'd be harder to find.

Once the Angels were all defeated, SEELE could then trigger Third Impact. See, the TV series made it seem like the objective was to prevent Third Impact, but that was never possible. Third Impact is inevitable, I guess, so the only way to ensure humanity's survival is to evolve humans into something that can withstand the disaster. Thus, the Human Instrumentality Project, which will combine all human minds into some sort of disembodied superorganism at the moment of Third Impact.

However, throughout the TV series, SEELE has butted heads with the NERV Director, Gendo Ikari, about how this plan is to be implemented. Gendo wants to transform humanity into something new. But SEELE seems to want to retain their human nature and just use the plan as a lifeboat until the disaster has passed. At least, I think that's the disagreement here. Like I said, I had to learn about SEELE's agenda from the description of the PS2 game. It's not exactly a shock that the cabal of worldly oligarchs should want to save themselves and hold onto their wealth and power at the same time.

Gendo, on the other hand, seems mostly fixated on reuniting with his wife, Yui Ikari, who apparently died in 2004 during an experiment with Eva Unit 01. In the TV series, it was heavily implied that Yui lives on inside of Unit 01. Since Gendo's version of Human Instrumentality involves drawing up human minds into a noncorporeal union, I guess he figures that this will include Yui's mind, even if she has no body. It's unclear in this movie if Gendo actually intends to include anyone but himself and Yui in this merger, but in Episodes 25 and 26 of the TV show, Human Instrumentality is presented like it's all humans, even dead ones, and Gendo Ikari talked about it like that's what his version of Third Impact was supposed to be.

I suppose the only thing keeping Gendo and SEELE from turning on each other was the Angel threat, but now that this is over, SEELE attacks. First they try to hack NERV's supercomputers, but this is foiled when they recruit the aid of...

...Ritsuko Akagai, who betrayed NERV in Episode 23 when she destroyed all the Rei clones they had in storage. But she's the only one smart enough with computers to block the hack, so she crawls back inside one of them and uses her dead mother's notes to build a more robust firewall or something. I think she j-pegged a RAM or something, I don't know.

Ritsuko wonders why she's even bothering, since she already turned on Gendo. They had been banging on the down-low, but she got fed up with him when she realized he loved his dead wife more than Ritsuko or her mother, who also used to bang Gendo on the down-low.

With that cyberattack fended off, NERV now has to brace for an actual attack. Admiral Clownshoes notes the irony of NERV defeating all those Angels, only for their final opponent to be the humans they were trying to save.

Tactically, the entire battle is a formality. SEELE runs the whole world, and they can send wave after wave of soldiers into the NERV facility, which is already badly weakened after months of Angel attacks and budget cuts. NERV's defenses were designed for dealing with Angels, and their greatest weapons were the Evas, except Unit-00 was destroyed in Episode 22, and Unit-02's pilot has lost the ability to sync. Nonetheless, Misato wants the pilot kids secured, since she knows SEELE's goons will try to take them out first. She orders Shinji to deploy in Unit-01, and even though Asuka's in no condition to fight, she has her put in Unit-02 and then sent to the bottom of the lake. It's not much of a hiding place, but at least she'll be safer there than inside the base.

Where's Rei? Well, no one can find her, but she's gone down to the room where they keep Lilith and she's soaking in that orange goop they have down there.

Perhaps anticipating this, Gendo excuses himself and orders Clownshoes to take over the defense of the base. Clownshoes seems to know what he's up to, and sends his regards to Gendo's dead wife.

At this point, it's basically a race to see who can trigger their version of Third Impact first. SEELE wanted to use the Lance of Longinus and Lilith somehow, but since the Lance is in space now, they now plan to use Unit-01, the only Eva created from Lilith. That's what makes it special, apparently. Units 00 and 02 were made from Adam, I guess?

Anyway, Gendo plans to do it by combining Adam and Lillith together. He's got Adam's body within his own, and he wants to join with Rei, who contains some essence of Lillith. This was Rei's main purpose all along, I think.

Meanwhile, Misato leaves her post to find Shinji, who was sulking in some corner instead of reporting to his Eva like she ordered. She saves him from some goons, but they're cut off from Unit-01, so she has to find a way to get him where he needs to go. She also has to convince him to cooperate, since Shinji's completely gone to mush in the midst of this new crisis.

As she drives him to where they need to go, she explains (most of) the necessary backstory to him. Second Impact was triggered deliberately to buy time for Human Instrumentality, and humans are descended from Lilith, just as the Angels came from Adam. So in that sence, the human species is collectively the 18th Angel, just another candidate to inherit the future of Earth. Humans, like any of the fifteen Angels spawned from Adam, have the opportunity to trigger Third Impact and secure their place as the dominant life form of Earth, but we had to beat all the Angels first to do it, and then find a way to survive Third Impact when it finally happened.

And while Gendo plans to do with with Adam and Lilith, SEELE wants to use the Eva series, somehow, so it's vital that Shinji use Unit-01 to destroy all the other Evas.

Speaking of destroying Evas, Asuka finally wakes up in Unit-02, which is currently getting battered with depth charges. She still can't control the Eva, and she just keeps whimpering that she doesn't want to die. Eventually, she hears her dead mother promising to protect Asuka, and she realizes the truth: that Asuka's mother, Kyoko Zeppelin, was absorbed into Unit-02, much the same way Shinji's mom was absorbed into Unit-01.

Now, at long last, Asuka can operate her Eva again, and she goes apeshit on the SEELE troops. They sever her power cable, but she doesn't care, boasting that five minutes is plenty of time to take out these creeps. This is honestly the best part of the movie, because they had reduced Asuka to a pitiful shell for so long, and now she's finally taking charge and whoopin' ass.

It won't last.

With the conventional forces beaten, SEELE sends in nine Eva Units of their own. These are units 05 through 13, but they all look the same, and I'm not even sure they have pilots. It's a pretty cool design for a "bad guy" Eva, but they don't figure into the plot very much. They're here to destroy Asuka and Unit-02, and Asuka has to destroy them to stop SEELE.

Meanwhile, Misato has almost gotten Shinji to the Unit-01 launch bay, but she got shot, so she tells Shinji he's on his own from here. Shinji continues to resist taking any responsibility here. He says he's not worthy to pilot the Eva because he hurts people. He killed Kaworu, and he "did something terrible to Asuka". So at least the movie recognizes that. I guess it was included just to show the audience that Shinji isn't exaggerating when he doubts himself like this.

Misato refuses to indulge his self-pity, and she doesn't care how much he cries or tries to use his past actions to disqualify himself. She tells him she's made plenty of her own mistakes, but she still learned something about herself anyway. Hey, I guess Misato kind of gets what I was saying earlier. I guess this makes her my favorite character?

Well, yeah, but I don't like how she gives him a long kiss goodbye, then promises they'll "do the rest" when he gets back. I mean, she dies immediately after he leaves, so I think she was just feeding him empty gestures to motivate him while she still could, but... that's kind of fucked up.

Meanwhile, Gendo and Rei reach the room where Lillith is to begin their attempt at Third Impact, but they find Ritsuko waiting for them. She pulls a gun on Gendo and tells him that she sabotaged the supercomputer while she was reprogramming it to stop SEELE's hackers. Except... when she tries to execute her plan, the computer doesn't do it. This is because it's been imprinted with the mind of its original creator, Ritsuko's mother, and apparently mom still carries a torch for Gendo, even after Gendo screwed both Akagis over. Gendo then pulls a gun on Ritsuko, and says "I truly..." but the sound cuts out as he says the rest of it, so we don't know what he wanted to tell her.

In any case, she calls him a liar after she hears it, so either he told her he loved her and she didn't buy it, or he said something really cruel and she knew he didn't mean it. Either way, Gendo shoots, her which normally would suggest his true feelings, except I think this Human Instrumentality business works on dead people too, so life and death kind of becomes meaningless in this movie. We see a ghostly apparition of Rei as Ritsuko falls into the LCL fluid. We also saw ghost Rei when Misato died, so this seems to be a thing now.

Meanwhile, Shinji makes it to Unit 01, but it's immersed in Bakelite, which Misato had ordered dispersed through the base to impede the invading goons. I'm not sure how it got here, though, unless the bad guys used Misato's own trick to secure Unit-01. So it looks like Shinji can't get in the robot, even though it's not a robot, and he doesn't even have to be inside the stupid thing to control it. He literally proved that on his first day on the job. Yo, Shinji, get in the robot, your mom loves you.

Meanwhile, Asuka seems to be doing just fine killing the bad guy Evas without Shinji, but just as she finishes the last of them off, the Lance of Longinus suddenly flies back to Earth and improbably stabs Unit 02 through the face. Uh... how? Why? What the fuck?

Also, all the Evas Asuka defeated suddenly reactivate. With her battery drained, Asuka is helpless to stop them as they crack open Unit-02 and eat it. I'm pretty sure Asuka herself is killed during this, but we don't see a body.

I guess this was the catalyst to get Unit 01 off its duff, as it finally breaks out of the Bakelite and grabs Shinji like it's gonna put him in. Unit 01 busts out to join the battle, and it's thig big impressive spectacle. It even has angel wings now.

But it doesn't actually do anything. Shinji just gets a look at what's left of Unit-02's mangled corpse and screams.

And that's the cliffhanger for 25'. There's a credits sequence, then a dedication note from the director, and then the second half starts as Episode 26'. So this is a good place to take a break.

If you're curious, the part where Eva 05-13 show up to confront Asuka is about where things ended in "Evangelion: Rebirth". But 25' is about twenty minutes longer than that, so I'm not sure what the significance of that cutoff point was supposed to be. I guess it works as a cliffhanger, but it's kind of dumb to have Asuka finally wake up and kick ass, only to get utterly destroyed a few minutes later. Then Shinji shows up to set up the real cliffhanger.

To be fair, this half of the movie is better than the second half. Mostly, it benefits from the parts where they actually show the characters recovering from Episode 24 and beginning to move to the next phase of the story. This was what the TV show failed to do with its Episode 25. Now, we get to see the SEELE vs. NERV battle that was only implied before, and we get to see how Human Instrumentality is arranged.

We also see why it needs to be done. In the original ending, it seemed completely arbitrary, like Gendo Ikari just decided this was a cool thing to try and he just did it to the whole world without asking anyone's permission. Here, it becomes clear that if Gendo doesn't pull the trigger, SEELE will, and it's just a race to see who can get their vision accomplished first.

And we actually get to see the other characters in this version. Asuka wakes up and gets her groove back, Rei's part in the drama is revealed, and Ritsuko and Misato get shot. Seeing this stuff makes me even more irritated that the TV series just jumped right past it all.

Still, this half of the movie has problems. For one thing, a lot of runtime is spent just showing troops slaughtering NERV personnel, and showing Misato leading Shinji to his Eva. Also, there's a healthy dose of Gendo and Rei just staring pensively at Lilith without actually doing anything. A lot of the footage doesn't actually progress the plot, and only Misato and Shinji's scenes are useful for providing exposition. Gendo and SEELE's words are too cryptic to be of much use.

The main point of this installment was to reinforce things we already knew: Rei's important to all of this somehow, Shinji is a sad sack, and Asuka is helpless. And maybe it needed to be reinforced in July 1997, more than a year after the TV show ended, but I don't think it needed to be hammered home this much.

And like I said from the start, this whole thing relies on a lot of ridiculous stuff that I feel like I should have been told about in the TV series. How did the Lance of Longinus come back? SEELE couldn't have arranged this, since they were the ones who were so upset about losing it in the first place. Why are there two methods to trigger Third Impact? How did Asuka's mother get sucked into the Eva and yet she remained in human form long enough to go insane and hang herself? Why did the bad guy Evas suddenly recover from their injuries when it was convenient for the plot?

Perhaps most critically: Why are they just treating Third Impact and Human Instrumentality like the same thing? Like if you do one, then the other one just automatically happens? Is that how it works? Then why were they so worried about the progress on that project? It could be done at will, right?

Oh, and how did SEELE figure out how to do all this stuff? They have their own fleet of Evas, which seem to work better than NERV's. They made their own Angel in the form of Kaworu. They seem to know how to make Third Impact happen, without Gendo's help. And however they got this far, they seemed to pull it off without anyone from NERV knowing about it. So why did SEELE even need NERV in the first place? As it currently stands, the only reason Gendo's ahead of them is because he's physically closer to what he needs to work with. SEELE could have nuked the base from orbit and hauled Eva Unit 01 from the wreckage.

Again, the whole movie just makes me feel like I missed an episode, except I didn't. I watched the whole thing, which leads me to assume that the next chapter will clarify everything, except it doesn't, as we'll see next time. See you there.

[dduane]

hello, hope you and Peter are doing well! I wanted to ask a question that almost certainly has been asked before: How do you go about ensuring that a creative project is sustainable/has 'wings' before diving into it? (I'm thinking less of outlining here and more the step before that - assessing how much meat's on the creative bone and what your appetite is, so to speak)

Well, the first thing I'd have to define is what exactly "sustainable" means. "Capable of being started and finished in some medium or other"? That might enter into the equation eventually... but not instantaneously.

There'll be times when a concept arrives in my creative space within a matter of seconds—like someone poured it into my head out of a jug—or times when it seeps in quietly over a matter of days, until eventually some critical number or volume is surpassed and there's enough of it to register as Something New To Do That Could Be Fun*. In either case I normally have at least a few minutes to work out whether anybody but me is ever likely to want to read or view this thing, and (if so) what medium it seems to belong in.

This process I usually refer to as "weighing [something] in the hand of the mind." And here you can insert video of an insert on a woman's hand holding a half kilo bag of sugar, bouncing it up and down a little to see if it's really half a kilo, or just kinda feels like it.

What I have to confess here, though, is that I have no idea how I do this, or from what my skill at the process derives.

Maybe just a lot of practice? Trial and error? As over forty years there've been more than fifty books, and a whole lot of animation, and a bunch of screenplays, not to mention the comics and computer games and audio adaptations and other whatnot. I've had a while to learn when a story will make an okay screenplay but not necessarily a book (or vice versa); or whether something's better as a novella or novelette, rather than as a novel based on a core concept that, like butter over too much bread, is going to wind up looking and feeling like what Bilbo would have described as "thin and stretched".

I really wish I could more clearly quantify the elements that make up one of these assessments. Every piece of work I embark on goes through one. Some attention's paid to the number of characters, the depth of the emotional interactions, the proposed in-story timeline, and the relative size and weight of the plot's payoff... and how all these balance against one another. But once this evaluation has been made, it's then possible to slot the project into the work schedule—and pray that nothing else interferes with it.

Because of course something may. The most severe form of these idea-arrival events doesn't give you a chance to evaluate anything at all. It just grabs you by the scruff of the neck and dumps you in front of the nearest device or material that can be used for writing and says, in a voice that will brook no dissent, "HI THERE YOU'RE WRITING THIS NOW AND IT WILL BE FUN!" (It'll say this even though that may not, strictly speaking, be true.) I thank great Thoth that this isn't that common an occurrence, because it tends to play merry hell with everything you're supposed to be doing during that period. ...Yet the effects can be good. The Door Into Fire did this to me. So have other projects I can't discuss due to NDAs.

Possibly the best note to wind up on here is that Sturgeon's Law applies. If 90% of all sf/fantasy stories are crap, as Ted said, then so are 90% of all their core ideas. (Or so it seems to me.) Any writer who's been doing this work for any length of time will have many, many story ideas in a given day... and know that only a small percentage of them are worth considering for more than a few minutes, or even seconds. Ideas are easy. It's execution that's hard— that costs you weeks and months and sometimes years of effort and sweat; of taking things apart and putting them back together in different shapes and hunting down just the right word.

If you're embarking on this kind of lifestyle: may luck go with you. (Because sometimes even very good work falls afoul of very bad luck.) ...But keep your hopes up: and keep working.

HTH!

*There are other forms of this surprise attack, including the one @petermorwood went through one time that was triggered by a chance line dropped by a studio executive we were having lunch with in the Paramount commissary. Without warning—and after the fact he was as surprised as everybody else—P. commenced to freestyle a series pitch so good that the lunch went on for three hours while it unfolded. Tl:dr; the series got bought and then ran aground on the financial rocks secondary to 9/11. ...But that's a saga for another day.

[simpliao]

let you break my heart again ; (irl) schlatt x reader

summary : silly to think he ever belonged to you.

info : based upon the song of the same name by the ever gorgeous Laufey, and shouldn't be by Luke Chiang, i love them both amazing songs that I completely recommend. cheating, depressive themes, mention of disordered eating, angst, I cried while writing this.

a/n : I have been so busy, and totally not based on experience lmao. I just needed to vent, so I hope you enjoy and can feel the hurt I'm currently going through <3 I'll see you guys in another four months

Shouldn't be.

Love shouldn't hurt this much. It shouldn't be killing me this much on the inside.

'maybe next week n/n, you know I'm busy.'

The message was all too familiar, barely legible as the world only became blurrier as tears flooded my eyes. My throat closed up, and I could only muster to text back as I always have.

'it's no problem! Can't wait for next week then :)'

I knew this song and dance would only follow into next week, my message left read and unanswered for what I know would be another dry answer hours in the future.

Laid upon a dishevelled bed, my eyes flickered my glance to my side, golden hour having already passed and no more light seeped into my room. My apartment for so many weeks deafly silent, my mind playing cruel tricks upon my heart when I could have sworn I heard his laugh echo off these walls. Always nothing more than a cope for what we've become, the sound of my own breathing and distant city sounds being my only comfort.

When that comfort used to me his arms, his hold, the gentle kisses upon my forehead and admissions of how beautiful he found me to be. No longer have I felt that way, not since. Just thinking about him causes me to choke back a sob, I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Not after I told myself I'd go with the flow, if he didn't care I wouldn't either.

He. Burnt auburn hair I still remember glowing when we'd drive out to the countryside to get a better view of the sunset at eight. Stupid jokes he'd make that would always draw a laugh out of me, his smile burnt in all corners of my mind; to only now haunt me every time I closed my eyes. He still stayed, even if I knew the same couldn't be said on his side.

I knew I shouldn't be doing this right now.

Leaving myself occupied in my mind, letting myself drown in thoughts and memories. If I were to shift my eyes I'd be able to see the school project sitting upon my desk, waiting to be done. And yet here I was, eyes permanently fixated upon the ceiling with my AirPods at its highest volume. Caught up in looking back.

He promised me to always be honest, that I was his and he was in turn mine. Those empty promises almost as empty as my stomach, the attempt of trying to get the sustenance into my body made me sick. Something would trigger of memory of us, and whatever sorry attempt at a meal I've managed to scrape together would be doused in salty tears; inedible. So empty I felt, I should have known; it's my fault.

He never had the best reputation. Twitter would have said 'told you so', Jeremiah Schlatt was never seen as a saint in the online sphere. When it came out that the two of us were friends, it shocked the community. Who would think? Two opposites would have such chemistry. Someone as blunt, sarcastic and cynical could pair so well with someone known to be so sweet, genuine.

That's all he ever wanted people to think, I question now if that's all he wanted us to be– with benefits to him.

Empty promises that when this or that would be sorted out, or when he'd be done planning something special he'd be ready to take on the responsibility. Everyone knew him to be the non-committal type, and yet he whispered into the cuff of my ear in our most intimate moments that he was mine– and mine alone.

And I supposed I was the fool to believe him.

From hours to days left on delivered, mute excuses to follow and never ending cancelled plans. We weren't together, yet he still gave the vague illusion that it was so. The use of private nicknames gave the feeling of being significant to him, and yet what we did behind closed doors was kept a tight-knit secret.

Now even wrapped up in comforters and bundled up in my warmest sweaters I still felt so cold, where his arms and warmth used to envelop now are permanently, bitterly frigid. The only thing keeping me going was foolish hope that I knew kept me foolish.

He wasn't coming back, not so long as he had my friends wrapped around his fingers. Pretending to not hear his flirty remarks while they giggled without knowing a thing ate me up from the inside.

I'd never say a thing either, lest I become the bad guy. Why couldn't I let him talk with his friends? Why couldn't he get time alone? His world didn't revolve around me so why are you acting crazy? You're wrong. We aren't even together... yet.

That last word used to tease and keep me in place, if I was good then that yet could become a maybe, and down the road a yes. I knew this was bullshit, meant to keep me where he wanted me. So he can feign guilt and use me all over again. I knew what I was, I was a toy for his amusement.

And I knew it all. I knew he didn't care about me, how his words would hurt, how he would lead me on with no more intentions than just a bit of fooling around. His eyes would wander, and a part of me hoped he'd never come back.

Because if he did I'd act the same, scared of being a nuisance, scared of being called mean names or seeing his gentle features turned malicious. I needed time for myself, and I knew I needed to cut him off to heal the scars he's left upon my heart. Keeping him close only hurt so much more, but it was a choice between loneliness or... More loneliness.

Until then, however, I'll just let you break my heart all over again.

[bg-brainrot]

This last chapter with reincarnation!Tav took a bit longer than it usually takes me and I think it's because of this scene in particular. As someone who projects some (a lot) onto Astarion, I knew I would need to address his grief over past!Tav in a way that felt real to me*, while still being distinctly him. I got there eventually, and now I'm pleased to be a bit proud of the scene c':

*Disclaimer: everyone processes grief differently, everyone wants different things in their healing process.

“Ever so helpful, aren’t you?” he snaps. Then, realizing what he’s said, wipes a hand over his face and looks up at you. His eyes are conflicted. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I suppose I just didn’t realize that my company was that disagreeable. It’s a rather uncomfortable thing to come to terms with.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, closing the door behind you and stepping in now. You set down your spoils and turn toward Astarion. His entire demeanor, his body, looks to be on edge, like something has been chipping away at him.

Astarion closes the book in his lap, and you note that the cover is upside down. “It’s just this damned tavern. I know I can’t eat, but I guess I got used to sharing meals with, erm, you. Them.” He drops his head and mumbles, almost too quiet to hear, “I don’t even know anymore.”

He��d mentioned before how difficult it had been for him, trying to reconcile who you are, who you were, but he’d recused himself every time it got to be too much. Here, sharing a room in the Elfsong, neither of you could run away from the roiling storm of his emotions.

Faced with his hanging head and the hunch of his shoulders, you haven’t a clue how to approach the man you can only call a friend. You almost wish this was a memory, if only for your emotions to come through clearly, your next course of action to be predetermined. But, of course, you are the only one capable of dealing with the consequences of your own actions.

You approach him slowly, cautiously, and call out his name. “Astarion?”

The man lifts his head up to you, and you find torment twisting his fair features. His breathing seems shallow and rushed. The lines around his mouth deepen as he reads your expression and he only replies, “Please don’t.”

“Don’t?” you ask, stopping just short of his bed.

“Don’t look at me like that– With that infernal pity. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine, and you don’t feel pity. It’s hard to parse out your emotions, but you mostly feel bad. The idea that he’d been suffering alone, that he had harbored this turmoil, all without letting you in… it hurts. Whether or not he loves you, he said he cared about you. He claims to be your friend and friends don’t shut each other out like this.

“I know you don’t want to get more attached to me,” you say, taking another step. “But I promise I am only doing this as a friend.”

You don’t give him time to react, to protest your presence, before your arms reach down and envelop his form. It’s an awkward angle, with his body hunched, curled on his bed, yours draping over him like an unwelcome cloak– he stiffens under you at first.

Then his tension melts.

His hands come up, grasping at your elbows and holding you in place. His soft, silver hair tickles your neck as his head leans into your chest. His whole body angles toward yours, as if seeking your warmth desperately.

You cling back, tilting your head into his. Your hands grip his sides tightly. Your presence is firm, your warmth his to take.

You hold him like that for a time, neither of you wanting to pull away from the simple, beautiful feeling of holding one another. Initially, you’d held him for his sake, but you find that the longer you stand there, the more your own soul settles. If a soul could crave, this is what mine would yearn for.

If you want to read the full chapter, chapter 18 is here!

[ohgodmyeyes]

Hello love, I got someone else hooked to disassembly and we both can’t wait for updates to resume when possible ❤️

hey! i'd been meaning to do this for a couple of days, because you've been so unimaginably kind and patient.

i didn't anticipate ever needing such a long break from a creative project; but then, i've also never poured quite this much of myself into that kind of endeavour before. (*not sure whether i'm talking about disassembly by itself, or my anakin stuff in all its entirety, not that it especially matters in-context.)

anyway, because you trusted me enough to recommend it to someone new after watching it go so long without an update, i feel like i owe it to you to show you what i've written for it over the past couple of days. it's unedited, so there might be typos or notes or continuity problems or (most likely) egregious word repetition; despite that, i hope it measures up conceptually to the rest of the story.

i also hope it reassures anyone who's been in doubt that this fic means more to me than ever, and isn't far from being updated. i've loved working on it again, and i hope a few of the people who engaged with it before will enjoy coming back to it too.

i'm not going to shoot myself in the foot by deigning to offer a timeline, but i will say that there are approximately 700 words worth of SPOILERS for Disassembly behind the cut — including the baby's name!

if you would rather wait until the chapter is completed to read it, DO NOT LOOK BEHIND THE CUT.

for any/everyone else... well, i hope i'm off to a good start. (and for god's sake, pls be gentle if i'm not lol.)

...

...

"Liam. Do you like it?"

"Sure. I mean, I don't not like it. But I thought you said you wanted to pick something to make my dad happy, since Leia already used 'Ben'."

"...I thought I did. Didn't he ever tell you about his mom's old fiancé? They were going to get married; he treated your dad like he was his own kid, but he died before the wedding ever happened."

"...Oh. Right. I— I'm sure he must have mentioned him, at least once or twice."

...

Even now, you had no idea whether Luke had been feigning his familiarity with the name you'd chosen for your son. Maybe Anakin had told him; maybe he hadn't: Both possibilities seemed equally likely to you. All you really knew was that Anakin had disclosed the information to you while you'd been sitting on his couch with him, late one evening back at his old house. You'd been drinking that night, just passing a bottle back-and-forth while you watched the news scroll by together— not that you ever planned on revealing to Luke that particular bit of the story.

All Luke needed to know was the name itself, and the barest explanation as to why you'd picked it.

"I barely remember telling you about that," Anakin murmured from his seat next to your hospital bed, glancing up from the tiny bundle in your arms through a few stray strands of his own hair. His eyes were tired, but he looked happy anyway— happier, even, than you'd seen him since that last time he'd smiled at you in the car, after seeing his cardiologist. That hadn't been so long ago; now, though, it felt like another lifetime.

In more than one way, you supposed it sort of was.

Liam squirmed, prompting you to look down at him, too, but he didn't wake up. It had only been (maybe) an hour since he'd been pulled out of you; you'd placed him on your breast as soon as the nurse managing the ward had locked your bed into position and handed him off to you, but he hadn't suckled for very long before falling into what appeared to be a fairly restful sleep.

You hoped you'd fed him correctly: The next time he did wake up, you thought, you would have to ask someone for help.

"We'd both had a lot to drink that night," you said to Anakin, with as quiet a laugh as you could muster. "I'm actually almost surprised I remember— but something about it must have stuck with me."

Anakin chuckled back, but didn't appear to have anything else to say just then— evidently too wrapped up in the baby to give anything else very much of his attention. You recalled what you'd learned from Luke about how he and Leia had come into the world; by the time their dad had seen them with his own eyes, they were already more than a week old: Having been greeted, fed, changed, held, and dressed for days and days by people who weren't him.

Liam, in contrast, had almost certainly seen more of Anakin's face in his first sixty minutes of life than he had of yours— and it was Anakin who'd held him first, and taken photos of him first, too— not to mention given you the most helpful advice you'd received so far concerning diaper changes.

Fortunately for you, not knowing quite how to feel about any of that made it a lot easier to remember to try not to feel too much of anything about it at all.

"Have you heard anything from Luke yet?" you asked Anakin, not necessarily wanting to hear the answer.

"No, but I wouldn't expect him to call me. You should probably check your phone."

It had probably taken you the better part of an hour to shower and dress following your 'encounter' with Luke in the hallway, you thought; after that, you'd spent perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes in transit in the back of the taxi, and then another hour or so being evaluated before your c-section. Then there had been the operation itself, followed by your time in the recovery room, not to mention the time you and Anakin had already spent fawning over Liam—

"...You're right," you admitted, thinking about the way Luke tended to wake up early when he'd been drinking. "I probably should."

Your phone had been wrapped up in the clothes you'd come in wearing, and placed on the table next to the bed: Maybe by Anakin, or maybe by a nurse; you couldn't know. After gently depositing Liam into the bassinet on the opposite side of the bed (lifting your arms to do so precipitated a distinct stabbing sensation in the muscles close to where you'd been cut open, which you expertly ignored), you untangled it from your leggings and lit up the screen.

"Shit," you said— out loud, without meaning to.

"What?" asked Anakin, seeming almost to come out of a trance.

"...Luke thinks something happened to you. I— well, I think he might be on his way here soon." The prospect of Luke showing up at the hospital (maybe even still half-drunk) shouldn't have filled you with dread, but it did. By some miracle, your brain didn't even chastise you for your lack of enthusiasm; maybe, you thought, even it couldn't blame you.

Anakin paused, as if to think. He'd been doing a lot more of that recently, and so it wasn't difficult (for you, anyway) to remember to wait. It wasn't that his brain 'didn't work', as he seemed to have taken to characterizing it; rather, it was that it didn't work as quickly as he or anyone around him was accustomed to it working.

He was still himself, and he could even still act like it, too— just so long as you gave him enough time.

"...How does he know where we are?" he finally asked, all of a sudden making you regret your own patience, at least that time.

"What?" you asked back, this time intending to buy a few seconds for yourself instead.

"How does Luke know we're here, at the hospital? If he'd called, they would have told us."

Great job. Are you going to tell him about the dog tracker you put in his leg, now?

...No. No, fuck you.

"He must have told the computer at home that I lost my phone," you lied.

"Oh," said Anakin, followed by another long and thoughtful pause. "...Are you sure you're okay with that?"

You laughed, and laughed bitterly; you didn't mean to, exactly, but you also supposed that if anyone was liable to understand, it was almost certainly Anakin. "It doesn't matter whether or not I'm okay with it," you told him, stealing a guilty glance in Liam's direction as it occurred to you that you should probably start trying to be a bit more quiet for his sake.

"I think it matters," said Anakin. "If you don't feel like seeing him right now, then—"

"Then I'll see him anyway," you finished decidedly, looking down to offer a poke to your own still-tingling legs because you didn't want to look up at Anakin just then. Something like a cramp seemed to run through one of them; right up into where you'd been cut open, but it didn't hurt so much as it felt foreign: Enough to bother you, but not in a way that was liable to make you say 'ow'. "If I start treating him differently now, it's only going to make things worse for all of us."

"Before tonight I probably would have said the same thing, but—"

"But nothing. Did you forget what we talked about before— when I was still in the shower?"

Anakin shot you a look. "No. No, I didn't 'forget'— actually, I'm starting to think I remember it better than you do; I'm not the one who's been making excuses for him this whole time."

"I'm not 'making excuses'," you said, all of a sudden too tired to bother to mask the hurt in your voice. "I'm trying to hold all of this together long enough to give Liam the kind of life he deserves. He's only a baby; he can't grow up with Luke and I hating each other."

"He doesn't have to." Anakin looked past you, and over at the little hospital bassinet instead. "...I really wasn't joking when I said I thought you should call someone. If you leave now, Luke will—"

"Luke will dump you in the veteran's home, and none of us will ever see each other again," you hissed, cutting him off as sharply and deliberately as you could without shouting at him. "You say you haven't forgotten, but we've been over this more than once, and—"

"And every single time we do 'go over it', it gets worse! I didn't agree to move in because I thought it was a good idea; I did it to make you happy— because you thought we could keep flying under the radar, and I wanted to trust you. We're not anymore, though, whether we like it or not, and Luke—"

"Luke is going to be a great dad! You might not have been able to give him the tools to be a husband, but I know he's going to be a good father; all you have to do is let him try. Anyway, I need him as much as I need you... especially now," you added, with yet another glance in the direction of Liam's tiny, sleeping form.

"You don't need either of us," said Anakin, shaking his head. "You could do it alone, and I think you probably should."

You winced at his bluntness, not that you hadn't expected it. He'd said the same thing about Leia and her boyfriend, after all: Projecting his own fears around intimacy onto the people he cared about; pretending it was hard-earned wisdom instead. You supposed he could very well have been both 'correct' and 'projecting' at the same time, but...

...

...

...

AND THAT'S IT FOR NOW. i was tired last night and whatever else i wrote after that is still gibberish. back to it tonight, though, i hope. i would be lying if i said i didn't feel anxious and rusty, but it's okay to feel that way once in a while.

anyway... 'Liam' is a deliberate reference to Liam Neeson, because of course 'Qui-Gon' doesn't exactly fit into the AU. I wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to shoehorn a brand-new character into anakin's past for the sole purpose of justifying the name, but at the end of the day, it's not the clumsiest thing i've ever done as a writer (even within this story).

there's a chance i might go back and add a scene to an earlier chapter so that it isn't too jarring to new readers, but part of me also thinks it's fine the way it is. they've had lots of time to talk, frankly, and we were never going to hear all of the conversations, were we...?

anyway, i'm obviously not going to tag the ships or let people reblog this... but if you happen to know of someone who might appreciate it, you're more than welcome to link them. hopefully i'll see you again soon.

thank you, @lilahelynora — and everyone/anyone else who's been in any way patient with me recently (i'd tag a few other special people too, but frankly i don't want to bother them). it all means more than you know.

[thewertsearch]

Asks Compilation 31/10

Thanks a ton!!

Yup, the trolls have all simultaneously started talking about their complicated alien relationships. Hussie clearly just woke up one morning with the coolest idea that just had to go in the comic.

It's a little out of the blue, but I've been rather enjoying myself, as I puzzle out what each new term is supposed to mean. It's already one of the more unique things about Alternian culture, and it's a lot of fun.

Plus, it turns Nepeta's shipping wall multidimensional. Does she have a Black Romance section?

True, true. Like I said, he deserves to be read as charitably as Vriska did. These kids are products of the dystopia they grew up in, and like it or not, that's going to have consequences!

God-tier troll, honestly. Kanaya is one of the most consistently entertaining of the cast, and I'm hoping we get to spend a while in her PoV before we have to move on.

I just missed her so much you guys

Thanks!

Nuanced is certainly the word. You have to view each story event on multiple levels, and be aware of how they interact. Hopefully I'm able to keep up!

Sane, linear, and a dead giveaway.

Rosemary is pretty great, as is Pepsi Cola - although there are a lot of red and blue characters. The ship name could equally apply to Karkat/Equius!

And hello again, L.O.S.S. anon! Maybe that could be your post signature?

[asked on the 25th! although I looked it up and I'm not sure what the reference is 🤔 her Hivebent intro was July 31st and first pesterlog was January 1st, must be missing something - C ]

Until proven otherwise, I'm going to assume this is Hussie officially confirming that Kanaya's birthday is October 25th. Thank you, Hussie, for this lore.

Heh, Meowrails. I'm sure Equius just loves that.

anonymous asked: I am horribly sorry if this is already long since decided but there is a fanon class that is basically all about faffing about in SBURB "code" called Waste, and I thought you might be interested in learning more about the fanon classpects later [] yes I know you have mentioned how you feel about fanon but please just trust me on this one I barely know anything about aspects myself, but I think with your writing mannerisms and analysis, you might vibe just enough with Mind? and if you can't be the Waste of Mind anymore, maybe your trollsona can?

As someone who invented countless Pokemon types in her childhood, I like the idea of fan Aspects - or even Classes. I might try my hand at some, after the liveblog ends in early 2038.

There are many who surely would consider this project a Waste of Mind. I shall wear this moniker with pride.

I recall hearing the Lord British thing was an accident - another accidental reference by Hussie?

For once, I actually did know the The Locked Tomb had ties to Homestuck. I believe the author was an extremely popular fic author in the fandom - and having read TLT, I believe it.

It does kind of look like his sign - but that blank, red eye can't be anyone else, can it?

Unless Nepeta somehow knows about Karkat's blood. Now there's a thought.

Ooh, I didn't think about that! Vriska was saying that in a message to Aradia, after all.

Maybe she's a little less apathetic than she lets on. A few of Vriska's words were ringing around in her head - and when Equius mentioned her heart, she already knew what she had to do to get that damn chip out.

[hummingbird-games]

chatty gemmy cathy tonight (who's STILL procrastinating + fighting the anxiety allegations) 🙂

I leave my additional rambling under the cut for your scrolling needs

LOL okay. So. Aside from meager updates and treats on ko-fi, I'm just way too anxious to make a proper new year post??? I've gotten caught in this loop where I want to spill my guts but I don't want to be perceived. So. knowing that most people scroll by posts anyway allows me the illusion that I'm sharing international secrets WITHOUT me acknowledging that I am sharing international secrets. yeah?

HSD:JY #2

as for what I can share here, I've been working--until right now--very quietly in the background and I get a thrill of excitement every time I touch the outline document?? I am also currently job hunting in the hopes of entraining a new place of employment that allows me to pay bills, fund this funky enterprise, and alleviate the physical and mental stress in my bubble of life. yup. but honestly being a game dev is still somehow cheaper than therapy so that tells you EVERYTHING you need to know kjzsfjsjf)

CRUSHED

Confession. I was supposed to fucking REST during the holidays. I was supposed to finish my little reading challenge and spend time with my family, and even if the holidays weren't holi-daying, just focus on my family who I do love dearly and could stand to show it more. yeah um so like I got to talking with some friends??? I mentioned this before lol. but I got to talking. and I got inspired. and then the next thing I knew, I was taking time away from what should have been spent on HSD (if I was gonna be stubborn and careless with said rest) annnnnd started working on Secret Project. or what my sibling calls Secret Project 2025--because I told them that this project wasn't supposed to be worked on until 2025.

Would you like take a guess as to what this secret project that will no longer be secret once I hit the "post" button is?

.....

.....

......

any guesses?? give up?

Crushed #2. Previously under the working title "Folded" which I wasn't married to, and then renamed to "Loved" as I got deeper and deeper into the draft.

As it stands, Loved is gonna need some more "love" LOL!! Crushed was a very fast process from inception to production, mostly because writing Corey was as natural as breathing once I let go and Let God ☠️ Loved is Jacob's POV and um....listen, I love the guy, and I love him for Corey but fucking damn, his ass needed three outlines, all of my attention and wanning energy, a cry session, touching grass, and then the acknowledgment that the first draft was not going to be the final draft.

I really love how Jacob's POV came to be, I loved getting to know him outside of Corey and as his own character. and I loved being surprised by things in the draft. But it's so heavy. It's. Soooo. Heavy. Once again I found myself writing about grief (because 1) i'm so original and 2) because another story needed to be told authentically). But. I don't want it to be this heavy game when it's released out in the world. So when I have fresh eyes I will return to it and figure out if there's parts of Jacob's story that I missed due to tunnel vision that balances things out. and ofc there will be the fun things of getting beta/sensitivity readers because of Jacob being biracial--I've done research but certain things need more than my eyeballs on it--.

I'm gonna be super honest with y'all...it would be bat-shit crazy and an absolute dream of mine to get this game out to y'all by the end of the year. like december 2024. the only thing that's holding me back is HSD (because again that should have my full attention...Crushed is my baby but more players care about HSD and ahahah that's valid). The only thing--part 2--that's holding my back is funds. I VERY briefly considered a kickstarter but I'm still not built for crowdfunding and I've already had enough bad ideas 3 days into the new year, and I should spread it out more 🤧

but yeah. the reason this was supposed to be a 2025 project?? because I selfishly want to get to keegan and oke's story, and I KNEW that to get there, Jacob's came first. So in my infinite wisdom I decided to start now to be "prepared" to finish Jacob's POV later. and then I sat and wrote out the full draft.

🤡🤡🤡

anyhoo. there is so. much. STUFF. I wanna say about Loved, and I'm super proud of myself for keeping it kinda vague here, but I promise that if I suddenly get an inheritance from a dead family member, I will put it to good use in getting Loved done AND share all the swirling thoughts in my head about the game. oh and also be able to pay the sensitivity readers for their time and expertise, damn gemini ☠️

THE KNIGHT DANCE

not much to say here except if HSD is the main concern, TKD is the second main concern because I had to shelve this baby twice and HBG is overdue on a sapphic story (yes HSD has lovely sapphic content but as a player you can choose not to interact with it soooooo....)

this one will definitely force me to take initiative and reach out to people for all the roles and I still have Great Fear and Low Brain Cells so once I sit down, review the script, and figure out what roles need fulfilling, we can start cooking with oil!

IMPOSTER SYNDROME

keeping this very short and very vague, but...one of the things I pride myself on and strive to improve and keep up my skills with AND have been complimented on has been encouraged to be in the spotlight in a very low stakes way, but my brain as decided "no pressure" really means "yes pressure" and suddenly I believe myself to be the Worst Candidate. but I'm believed in and I don't want to let people down so it's just...distractions x 10 until I finally exhaust myself and get to work ☠️

i'll get over it just gotta be dramatically anxious first

....

GOOD TALK!!!! lol and with that, I think I shall leave tumblr and find a soothing activity to participate in 🤣🙃

[sansxfuckyou]

Misconceptions

Summary: Kyle is only distantly aware he's chosen the worst time to confess

Warnings: swearing, mentions of various deaths, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I wrote this to get myself through some idea drought, but Kenny being an oblivious and jealous prick is honestly fun to write, it may happen again. this is basically me shoving another scene into the manbearpig episode by the way, so keep that in mind while reading. hope ya'll enjoy!

Kenny's breathing starts to stutter with the cold, he's too far into sleep to wake up and shuffle around a bit too try and get warm. Kyle can hear it, it's shockingly hard to fall asleep on the cold ground while trapped in a cave system. He feels perfectly fine heat wise, passed out next to Stan and using his jacket as a blanket.

Kyle doesn't know what he's supposed to do. On one hand, he lets Kenny freeze to death or go terribly ill. On the other hand, he wakes up Kenny and hopes that the blonde doesn't get pissed off.

He opts for waking up Kenny.

His entire body feels clunky when he stretches, hands over his head and interlaced fingers pushing out. He tugs on his jacket lazily as he stumbles over to where Kenny's passed out on the ground. Kyle crouches down next too him and places a hand on the blondes face. His skin is flush with the bite of the cold, and he feels 'warm' but he isn't.

"Hey, dude," Kyle begins with as he shakes Kenny's shoulders gently, it barely rouses the blonde. All he gets is a small groan of dissatisfaction and the slightest shift in facial expression.

Kyle brings his fingers to loosen Kenny's parka hood but stops himself, he needs the heat to be in, not out. Instead he slides his fingers along Kenny's neck, ice cold fingers sure to jolt him awake. It does garner a reaction, not much.

Kyle talks again, "Wake up man, you're gonna freeze to death."

Kenny blinks open his eyes and glares at Kyle, "I've died worse- heard of worse ways," He quickly corrects himself.

"I know," Kyle said softly, so lightly, making sure Kenny didn't hear. It was his secret, and even though Kyle remembers a good deal of the deaths, he acts like he doesn't. He's not sure if he's lying for Kenny's sake or for his own.

"I'm fine freezing to death," Kenny said as he closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, facing away, "Go back to your boyfriend."

Kyle's face flares up at the accusation, "He's not my boyfriend," He takes Kenny's arm and rolls him back over, "I don't even like him."

Kenny rolled his eyes, "Sure you don't, you just happen to always be with him, always listen to him, always give him attention, always be on your fucking mind- of course he's your boyfriend!" The restraint he enforces to not shout makes him shake, he should've gotten this out in the open a long time ago. But no, he had too wait until the four of them were trapped in the mines before it could come out, "Leave me to die, that's what you guys always do."

"I don't," Kyle said.

Kenny scoffed, "Sure."

"Remember when you were dying of cancer, or whatever, your body was giving out on you?" Kyle asked.

Kenny nodded, "Everyone remembers that."

"Or what about all those other times? Electrocuted, trampled, burned, drowned, mutilated- I remember some of those," Kyle said, "I just, didn't want to freak you out by bringing it up."

"Big whoop," Kenny spat venomously, "You remember most of my terrible fates, so does Cartman. I don't see how that relates to you not being Stan's shitty boyfriend," He hopes that the jealously of his misguided anger is heavily covered.

"Stan doesn't remember half as many, Craig doesn't remember any, and Tweek doesn't remember any. Just me, and Cartman," Kyle said, going off on a loosely built tangent. He was grasping for straws, but he needed an exit into the more important topic of debate, "Because we care about you more than anyone else in all of South Park."

Kenny gestured vaguely for Kyle to go on, a challenge of sorts, maybe it was a plea.

"He cares about you because you indulge in his terrible ideas and hang out with him outside of the group. You're his best friend, we all are, but you more than the rest of us," Kyle explained, gesturing to Cartman as he spoke, "And I remember because," He pauses, words catching in his throat, "I, I remember."

"Spit it out," Kenny snarled, glaring just a bit. It was a facade really, he'd never speak maliciously to Kyle and mean it.

"And I remember all of you deaths because I fucking, I am in love, with you," Kyle managed to choke out, barely at that. He feels like the knots in his chest are tightening, but the burdens on his shoulders have finally been lifted. It's a rather conflicting feeling, to have the brunt of it all out in the open despite knowing it won't be reciprocated.

Kenny is pleased with the fact he can say the reason his face is red is because of the cold. He feels his heart rate pick up, he's pretty sure it's pulsing with irregularities- ha, that's kind of funny, Kyle made his heart skip a beat. Literally at that, the metaphor always came in handy for his journals. He bangs his fist on his chest, right where his heart is, rattling up his rib cage. He glances up to Kyle, "Really man?"

Kyle can't help the exasperation saturated so thickly on his voice it's dripping as he snaps back a sharp, "Yes, really! Of course I do!"

He also can't help the squeak that's pushed out of him when arms wind around his torso and squeeze. Kenny's head is resting on his shoulder, nestled up against the crook of his neck. Kyle doesn't know what he's supposed to do, especially with the way Kenny is shaking, tears hitting his jacket and his skin. It takes a bit too long for him to realize that this is a way of saying 'I love you too' but the second he does he's yanking Kenny into himself just as tight. He knocks the side of his head against Kenny's gently as he hauls the blonde almost onto his lap.

"Fuck man," There's a small sniffle as Kenny tries to lift his head, he can't get more than a couple inches of distance between him and Kyle and it feels nice. He dares to say it feels right, resting half on Kyle's thighs with arms wrapped around him so tightly he almost fears dislocating a rib. He takes a shaky inhale, "I just, did you have to wait until now to say it?"

Kyle knocked his forehead against Kenny's, very brief moment of contact greets them, when he pulls back he's almost shocked that Kenny's hands are at his waist. Almost. He rests his head on Kenny's shoulder, "I thought you were into the chicks."

"I take whatever comes my way," Kenny said, he spoke as though it were humorous, "Of course, I am prone to getting attached and waiting for something better to come around."

Kyle listens, giving a small hum to continue.

"But I got really lucky tonight, aside from the fact we're trapped in a cave system. Not only am I sitting on the lap of someone absolutely magnificent, smart, adorable, and dare I say it, hot. That someone also happens to be the long time target of my affection," Kenny rambled. The words flowed like wine, and he's entirely trying to flirt despite the situation. He brings a hand up to run through Kyle's mess of curls, "Of course, lower class courtship methods usually aren't seen as such by the middle class."

Kyle gives a soft sigh, "Cut me some slack, I just finished coming to terms with this shit," He lifts his head up to find that charming gap tooth grin, definitely one of his favorite things about Kenny. He's had a hard time choosing favorite things about Kenny lately, he adds it to the list.

"Gladly," Kenny answered with, briefly pressing a kiss to Kyle's cheek. He glanced over the redhead's shoulder, "Let's sleep over there."

"Beside Stan?" Kyle asked, he got a nod in response.

"I don't want him getting hypothermia," Kenny said, "Not a fun way to die."

Kyle gives a hum before standing up, awkwardly hoisting Kenny along with him. He knows that the shorter is grinning for the brief walk over to where Stan lays. Kyle sheds his jacket to lay down and Kenny joins him, pressing his back flush against Kyle's torso.

Kenny tilts his head back a bit, "Love you," He's saying it until the novelty wears off at this rate.

Kyle hums in response, "Go to sleep."

"Okay," Kenny said, voice a bit more hushed as he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

It's a lot easier to fall asleep when someone else is there with you. The rhythmic clamber of his heartbeat is welcome to echo in Kenny's ears as he drifts off to sleep comfortably. Even with the cold nipping at his feet he finds it rather soothing to just fall asleep. He's out cold before Stan actually rouses from his slumber, flipping over a bit.

"Go back to sleep," Kyle croaked out softly.

Stan pushed himself onto his elbows and glanced over to find Kenny curled up against Kyle, "You told him?"

Kyle nodded.

"He said yes?" Stan asked.

Kyle nodded, "Here's hoping we make it out of here alive to go on a date."

"In the afterlife I'll third wheel for you, even if we make it out I'll be sitting there being a nuisance," Stan said as he dropped back down. His pressed his back against Kyle before throwing his jacket atop the both of them.

"Thanks," Kyle said quietly, "You're fucking awesome man."

Stan yawns a bit, "No problem bro, that's what friends are for."

[agent-cupcake]

*read horrorshow the nth time*

do you have any fav horror movies to recommend?

I've probably recommended all of these before but here we go again with the bad takes! Wahoo! OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

The Exorcist - my most favorite horror movie ever. I don't think a lot of people find the actual spooky ghosty stuff scary (unsettling for sure) but the characters are next level and the production and acting are unmatched. Ellen Burstyn's performance as a mother losing her mind trying, and failing, to save her daughter is haunting. It also lead to me doing my best Greek grandmother impression whenever I say Dimi, so there is that.

Jacob's Ladder - an inspiration for the first Silent Hill, this movie portrays unreality as well as Perfect Blue. It's super disorienting and impactful, I watched it coming out of a project focusing on the Vietnam War and... yeah, it's pretty miserable. Although there is a lot of horrific imagery, t's a genuinely heart-breaking film in some places. The core of horror is trauma, right?

Hereditary - the ending is pretty scary, but the thing that stands out in this movie is how miserable it is. Like with the previous two I wouldn't recommend it on the fear factor, it's more of a character deconstruction through the lens of a horrifying situation. Alex Wolff's character is masterfully written and executed. Obviously I've never dealt with such severe trauma, but his response and mental decline is very relatable.

Midsommar - It's the cult movie. People say it's boring, I disagree, but it's not really scary either. More... uncomfortable. I love that the protagonist is already in such a vulnerable and destructive state. Like she's just not doing well. It's been a huge inspiration in my own writing, and Florence Pugh is lovely. Like with Anya Taylor-Joy, it was interesting to see her get so popular after being a contentiously reviewed horror movie.

Blair Witch Project - who hasn't seen this? It remains at the very top of the found footage genre for a reason, the entire thing is amazing. People say it's lost its luster with the oversaturation, but I disagree, the acting and style of the OG sets it apart.

The Witch - the first thing I ever saw Anya Taylor-Joy in before she was everywhere. Solid movie, it uses all period accurate dialogue. It's not my favorite from a horror standpoint, but the scenario alone is sickening enough to be a selling point. The dad character's actor has a nice voice, don't @ me.

Perfect Blue - there is nothing I could say about Perfect Blue that hasn't been said before, but it is a masterpiece. Watch it. If you like animation, if you like psychological studies, if you like feeling real icky, watch it. Just do it.

Se7en - more of a thriller I suppose, but it definitely works as a horror. It's up there with my faves and is another movie that's been an inspiration in my writing.

It Follows - I mention this because I was listening to the soundtrack, but its a beautifully shot film with a very strong aesthetic vision. It's the "demon STD" movie, which is dumb and imo pushes some really harmful narratives about STD's and I'd say that the far more impactful reading is sexual trauma.

Suspiria (2018) - I'm not one for body horror but there's a scene in this that just... woah. I've never seen the original but I know the new one is very different, and it's amazing. I might be alone in this but it's a shame Dakota Johnson is in such trash movies because I think she's so cute.

The Shining - another classic that must go on this list because it is, unironically, just that good. Shelley Duvall deserved better, that's a fact. That her performance was so fantastic is astounding to me. It's funny that people say that her reaction is unrealistic when that was her genuine reaction to being put in a traumatic situation. Amazing film, she is a star.

I'm definitely missing some movies but such is the way my brain doesn't work. Thank you for your time <3

[masterwords]

I’m back!

I was thinking about Derek and Aaron having to put together some kind of toy or project for Jack (you know kids always do it the night before it’s due). I’m just picturing some sweet and sarcastic time together doing something for Jack that should be easier but is probably harder than they thought.

Super excited for May now!

Starting May off with this one! And yeah, it got a LOT sappier than I meant for it to...that happens I suppose.

Summary: Jack needs to build a rocket and he has two dads who can help him out. Lucky kid.

Warnings: mention of Derek's dad's death and financial troubles after

Words: 1.3k

Read below the cut or on AO3!

**

** Blast Off **

“You're doing it wrong,” Derek says from the floor. He's on his second set of one hundred pushups, maybe the third, Hotch has lost count. Up and down up and down.

“The directions said...”

“Read them again.”

He can't. Jack lost them about an hour before when Hotch told him to clean up all of the mess he'd made that didn't have anything to do with the damn rocket so they could focus. He can manage chaos on a grand scale, but in his own home it's just a little too much. The sad truth is, those instructions are probably in the trash can beneath the scraps from dinner.

In other words, long gone. He's not digging through the trash to figure this little thing out.

He doesn't think it should matter. There are not that many pieces. They're all laid out, side by side, just like he would set it up if he was taking apart one of his guns to be cleaned. It looks so simple, and it probably is it's just that he's afraid to commit and make a mistake. They don't have time to go buy another kit, they waited until the last minute. Not because anyone forgot, just because Hotch had been a little extra busy at work. Story of his life.

Derek finishes his push-ups and spends almost a full minute drinking every drop from his water bottle. Hotch envies his dedication to fitness, the way he always manages to get these things in without excuse. Hotch hasn't done push-ups in days even though they entered into this monthly challenge some of the guys at the Academy started together. This month is push-ups, next month is running. He'll make them up, no way he's going to come in last or just give up, but he's definitely not making it easy on himself.

“This part goes here,” Derek says, pointing. “I watched my dad and Sarah make one of these.”

“I made one when I was a kid but not from a kit. My dad almost cut his hand off helping me with mine. He wasn't much of an engineer...” In other words, his rocket had looked pretty cool but had been an epic fail. It blew to bits when it hit the ground.

Derek's mom didn't have the money to buy him a kit when it was his turn. It wasn't that expensive, but it would have over drafted her account. If it had been a week later maybe she could have been able to swing it, pinch a few pennies, but things were just tight. Her job didn't pay much and the hospital and funeral expenses were still weighing her down so he was home sick on rocket day to save face. Being the only kid who showed up empty handed would have killed him and Fran knew it. He already had to be the kid whose dad died, he didn't need that too. Things were hard enough on him.

Derek doesn't bring it up but Hotch can see it on his face, he can see it written in the lines on his forehead. He doesn't dwell on these things but they still sting when confronted with them.

“Do you want to take my place?” Hotch asks without a hint of frustration. He thinks maybe Derek might like a do-over. “I could use a few minutes to get some push-ups in before I'm at the bottom of the pile.”

Derek doesn't need the instructions. He can reconstruct a bomb from scraps, he can see the way the pieces fit together and instinctively knows what each of them does. Hotch knows that even if it's not exactly the way the instructions say to do it, Jack's rocket will probably win.

The only thing Derek can think is that this feels huge. This is a father son project, Jack has been talking about it for weeks. The fact that Hotch isn't home often and Jack was worried he'd have to build it with aunt Jessica had been at the forefront of his mind. Not that he would hate that, he just...it was all Jack wanted. Building a rocket with daddy. It's a whole thing. After they build the rockets his whole class will go to a field and launch them, there are even prizes for the winners. Highest, farthest, best paint job. There are about a million categories, enough that each kid in the class will probably get something for their trouble. But Jack just wants to build it with Hotch. And after launch day, to further the experience, they get to go to the air and space museum. It's not the sort of thing some random guy just gets to jump in on. He knows he isn't just some random guy, but until this moment he wasn't really sure where he fit. Jack likes him, or at least tolerates him, and he's careful not to infringe on Jack's precious time with his dad.

This makes him feel like part of the family in a way he hasn't before.

“You sure?”

He expects Jack to politely refuse. He wouldn't mind it. If he could have done this with his father...

“YEAH! PLEASE DEREK!”

Jack's enthusiasm nearly makes him cry. It's all he can do to hold himself together as he takes a seat beside the kid and starts rearranging the pieces into an order that makes sense to him. No hesitation. If Jack wants him to do it, then he's going to do it and he's going to do it right. He thinks about that stupid Inside Out movie that makes him cry every time Jack wants to watch it and he knows this is a core memory.

Maybe for both of them.

They work all evening, laughing and making a mess while Hotch makes up for lost time on his damn push-ups. His arms feel like jelly, his elbows are creaking, but he's back in the running again. He pops a few Tylenol PM so the ache in his arms doesn't keep him up that night but he feels good otherwise. Could probably do more if he wanted but he didn't want. It's late and all he wants to do is read Jack a chapter from their bedtime story and go to bed.

By the time he comes to the table to check on things, they've got it painted with the wildest set of tiger stripes he's ever seen. It looks fast and mean. And the most shocking part? The table is mostly cleaned up.

“Will it fly?” Hotch asks in awe. Derek and Jack laugh in unison and he can't get over how good that sound is.

“Not only will it fly,” Derek starts, standing and arching his sore back. He hates sitting so long. “It's gonna win.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

Hotch takes Jack to get ready for bed while Derek finishes shutting down the apartment, checking locks, turning off lights. He gives the glue a test, tugs at the fins, pulls the nose off and checks that the parachute is intact. It all looks good. He knows the engine is solid, it's in there, it's going places. Once he's satisfied with the work they put in, he heads off toward Hotch's room to wait for him to finish, but hears his name called from Jack's room.

“Yeah?” he asks, leaning in the doorway. Jack is tucked into his bed, Hotch kneeling on the floor beside him with the book in his hand.

“Would you come with me tomorrow?” Jack asks with a hopeful smile. “Since you helped me build it.”

Derek can't stop the tears this time. They obscure his vision and for a moment he's speechless. Hotch nods and smiles.

“Yeah, buddy. If the boss says I can have the morning off, I'd love to.”

“Can he dad? Please?”

“I'll think about it.” He's posturing. It's a done deal. Derek already knows it.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddddddddddddddd...”

Hotch smiles in a way that lights his eyes up and he nods. “Of course. But only if he brings me lunch.”

“Deal.”