#I am full of SQUIGGLES now

[kedreeva]

I love so many of your Teen Wolf fics! Keep Talking is one of my favorites! And the Final Pack, I'm not sure how you found the time to write such an epic epic.

Then I got to tumblr and was graced with the peaowl pictures and knowledge. Amazing. 💖

KEEP TALKING!!! I always forget I wrote that one, until I hear the song I wrote it to, and then I'm like DAMN I LOVE THAT STORY and it's always exciting to hear someone else enjoyed it. That shit was so self indulgent and fun to write!!

Final Pack.... I'm actually hip deep in writing that one a second time, into an original. I don't know how I'm going to survive a second writing of it, but I am working through it and I am VERY excited about doing so. And sweet messages like this leave me motivated to go work on it so I think that is what I am going to do!

[sage-nebula]

Tails' real name being a human name (Miles) is weird, so I've decided that his name being a human name was an accident (his full name being a speed pun is a happy accident). His parents did the same thing that Asriel's parents did in Undertale, where they took the first two letters of one parent's name and the last three letters of the other parent's name and mashed them together to get their child's name. In his case, his mother's name was Mist, and his father's name was . . . Squiggles.

[ihavethedreamies]

Stupid | Wooyoung

Jung Wooyoung - ATEEZ)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~10.3k

Pairing: Wooyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Caution: The angst in this story is more familial based. There are mentions of adultery/infidelity, but it's not dwelled on. This could be triggering for those who have had parent's leave or other similar circumstances, so just be warned.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Princess, Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc.), Childhood/Teenage Trauma, Family Issues, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Couch Sex, Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: Hm, just thought I would do this since I made something similar for San.

(S/N) is for the name of your sister.

Move Update: We are headed out next Monday for our new state (back to where I was born actually) and I'm gonna have to live at my uncles for a month before the new house is ready, so I will be writing a lot there, so get ready.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

The only sound you could hear was your own aggressive keypresses. You had paused your music to go to the bathroom and didn't bother hitting play again. Staring hard at the screen, your eyes hurt even with the dark theme applied. The colorful lines of code on the dark screen blurred and refocused, and you blinked, trying to force your eyes not to blur. Sighing, you pushed back from your desk, rubbing over your eyes. Taking your computer glasses off, you let them fall onto your desk and you got back up. It was really hard to work at 2 am, let alone when your thoughts were racing. And the thoughts had nothing to do with your job. The last thing you needed the day before a project was due was to loop on irrational thoughts. Your socked feet thumbed on the wood floor of your hallway as you went down it. Your sister's door was propped open, so you quietly opened the door, peeking inside. The soft teal lighting strip lining her walls cast a faint glow over the room. She was starfish-ed on the bed, peacefully and messily asleep. Huffing, you stepped out and shut your door. How nice it must be to be thirteen. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your sweatpants, you exited the hallway and went into the kitchen. The large open room of the apartment included the kitchen as well as dining and living areas. A spare room was in the back corner, empty since your friend had moved out a month before. Another room sat across from it, the large windows of the studio covered with tall curtains, but you knew it was just full of boxes of old things. Someday you would have the courage to go through them and get rid of stuff, maybe use the studio for an office or something, but…

Opening the fridge to get the pitcher of orange juice, the door shut, and your eyes focused on the dark on the picture magnetically attached to the front. The picture was of a once happy life you lived. A black squiggle covered the face of the man, the woman next to him smiling like the sun. Glaring at the censored face, you yanked the photograph from the magnet clip and slapped the picture down on the counter. The pitcher followed and as you grabbed a glass, you plucked the scissors from the small utensil-filled mug on the counter. After pouring yourself a drink, and taking a few sips, you grabbed the photo. Holding it up, you realized it would make sense to turn the overhead light of the range hood to see better, but you continued in the dark. Opening the shears, you cut a tiny slit into the white border of the photo and halted. The little line split the man's pants from the shoulder of the little girl's white sundress; she was no more than four. She was sitting on the lap of a girl looking much the same, just about twelve years older. It was weird to see such a bright smile on your face.

The purple-handed scissors clattered onto the Formica counter; the photo still held in the crook of the blades. Resting against the counter behind you, you drank the juice in gulps, hissing through your teeth when it was gone like it was some kind of liquor. The glass-mimicking plastic cup clanked into the sink, and you left the kitchen to shuffle back to your room. As you reentered, you yanked the zipper down of your hoodie, nearly tearing the garment off and throwing it harshly onto the floor. You let the door click quietly closed despite wanting to slam it and went back to your computer. Your chair let out a puff of air when you plopped down into it, the remaining pieces of the candy necklace you had on bouncing over your collarbone. Crunching on one of the sugary beads, you flipped your phone over, so the screen faced up, tapping the black surface and a small white notification bubble showed itself under the white numbers of the clock; 2:13 am. Unlocking the phone with your finger print, you opened your message app and you sniffed at the message in annoyance.

🦊WooWoo🦊: did you get it done?

He had sent it nearly an hour prior. You glared at your computer screen, then to the second monitor, the program running over and over, glitching at the same time stamp each time.

☀️: not even close 🦊: why are you up young lady ☀️: why are you?

He didn't reply right away so you looked back at your computer, clicking your tongue. Hitting save and closing the window, you instead opened up a new email and sent one to your coworker that it might not get there by tomorrow night but that you would try. It wasn't a hard deadline anyway. You worked for an Indie label, not some AAA, so that gave you some flexibility. Closing the window, you stared at your background for a good few minutes, waiting for Wooyoung to reply. The picture used to make you smile, but it hurt your heart. San's cute dimple smile, and his arm around you made you wince. Wooyoung was on your other side, his cheek pressed into the side of your head as he hugged you. You were leaning into San, trying to escape the other man's embrace, at least that was your excuse. The picture was getting close to five years old.

🦊: games 🦊: why are you up ☀️: working. thinking 🦊: about? ☀️: how shit I feel 🦊: you sick??

You rolled your eyes; he wasn't super intuitive sometimes. It was almost 2:30 in the morning though.

☀️: no. how shitty my life is now compared to back then…

Once again, he took a bit to reply, and you almost got up to use the restroom then go to bed. Your phone then buzzed on the desk, the noise even louder going through the wood, and you grabbed it quickly, answering the call.

"Your life isn't shitty (Y/N). I'm here, huh?" His giggle was forced. You just huffed, getting out of your desk chair to move to your bed.

"Livin' the dream."

"What's it this time? Your…da- uh, male life giver?" His little catch at least made the corner of your mouth crook up.

"Yeah."

"How's (S/N)?"

"Good, I guess. She…she was a bit too really remember either of them."

"Even if she doesn't it can't be easy with…how it all played out." He was trying to be careful with what he said, but you were already in a bad mood.

"Our dad cheating, leaving us for his second family and then my mother…" You thought tears who come to your eyes, but maybe you were too tired.

"Where do you think she went?" Your best friend's voice was soft.

"No clue. Neither did Gramma, or the cops. She could be in Timbuk-fucking-tu for all I know."

"Do you want to go out tomorrow with me and San? Or do you have to work?" Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, and you pulled it away from your ear. Opening the email from your coworker, you sighed in relief. Perfect timing.

"Not anymore. The character models are getting scrapped and redone so that means my code has to be scrapped. Might be why I couldn’t get it to move right."

"What about (S/N)?"

"She's thirteen not three. I'll have her sleep over at a friend's maybe…"

"Great! Get some sleep, sunshine. Meet us at 9!" He hung up and you flopped back onto your mattress, feeling disappointed for some reason. Finally working up the energy to get off the bed, you went back to your computer and shut it down, staring at San's smiling face a little too long, before letting it actually turn off.

~*~*~

"Good morning, little lady." You left the hallway, sandals in your hand. Your sister sent you a tired look over her cereal, waving lazily.

"G'mornin'."

"Do any of your friends get to have sleep overs on school nights?" Her eyes opened a bit wider then, then squinted as she thought.

"Uh…probably. Going out with-" she gave a flirty pose, batting her eyelashes, "Sannie?" then dropped the act.

"Shut up, you little shit." You threw a stray cheerio at her, and it nearly stuck to her cheek.

"Wooyoung's going too."

"Oh. You ever gonna tell him?"

"Tell San I like him? I don’t know..."

"San? Oh, yeah, right. Why not?" You didn't answer right away, pouring a glass of juice.

"You're gonna turn into an orange." Your sister rolled her eyes, and you poured just a bit more before putting the pitcher back down.

"I just... I don't think I stand a chance."

"What?! Why?!" Your sister acted like you had personally offended her. Even before your whole messed up parental situation, you two never bickered or anything. Probably because you were nearly thirteen years older than her.

"I'm not his type. He probably sees me as a sister. Also, he looks like that," you motioned down at your white tank with a think blue plaid shirt over and worn denim capris, "and I'm…"

"You better compliment yourself." Your sister glared at you, making you sigh.

"He likes the girls in skirts with makeup and their nails done. The ones that giggle at everything he says and touch his bicep ‘accidentally’…" You drifted off, getting mad at the mental pictures.

"Then do all that." (S/N) shrugged, getting up to put her cereal bowl in the sink.

"Counter." You corrected and she rolled her eyes, taking the bowl out and moving it to the counter.

"(S/N), I don't even own a tube of mascara." You sighed, then proceeded to down your orange juice once again like it was a stiff drink. Your throat burned and your stomach stung somewhat…maybe you did drink too much.

"Use mine."

"What?" You turned fast to look at her and her eyes were wide in panic.

"I only have mascara, I promise!" She lifted her hands in surrender, and you breathed out your nose. She was only a year off being allowed make up, you at least wanted to maintain the rules your mother put on you with your sister. Even if a lot of them never had to be enacted on you.

"Look, I'm just going to go hang out with them and pretend one of my best friends isn't sex on legs."

"I'm pretty sure they both are, but okay." (S/N) muttered under her breath as she passed you to go get her backpack and you pretended to not hear her.

~~~

"Bye, sis!" (S/N) got out of your car and headed into her middle school. She was the one of the few who didn't mind being seen dropped off right in front of the school, but laid-back older sisters are much, much cooler than any parent.

"Just text me who you can stay with!" You called to her, and she turned around with a shocked face.

"Right! What about my bag? My locker's not big enough!" She realized, coming back to your rolled down window, leaning into it.

"I'll bring it by after your club meeting is done."

"Really!? Can you bring WooSan?"

"Don't call them that!" You scolded but laughed nonetheless, "Sure."

"Bye, sis!" She took off again, meeting her similarly uniformed friends by the entrance. You were blessed that the school was willing to take her in for free more-or-less on a scholarship. Your mother wanted both of you to go to the same school, but it was private, and you were in no way capable of paying. If you were, you wouldn't be driving a wine red 2002 Hyundai Sonata with suede upholstery. Pulling out of the drop-off line, you continued down the road till you met the traffic light. It sat at the edge of the academy's campus and the park where you were meeting the guys was just past the light. As you waited for the light to turn, you tapped your fingers on the steering wheel along to the music playing on your radio. The light took even longer because the crossing guard was leading a group of elementary schoolers across. You were watching them pass in their cute little uniforms when you were startled by a knock on your window. You flinched, looking to see what looked to be a high school boy on the other side. You rolled the slightly tinted glass down just enough that you would be able to hear him. He flashed a smoldering smile, and you blatantly sneered.

"What, kid?"

"You obviously don't go to school here, you from the public school?" How dumb was this kid? You hadn't been in high school for seven years. You had a college degree and everything. Most might take it as a compliment to be seen as looking young enough to be a teenager, but…

"Get lost, squirt." You scoffed, looking away but not bothering to roll the window back up. You were a bit curious what his reaction would be.

"I might look young, but I'm a senior this year, princess." He was clearly a little put off by your flat dismissal, trying to keep a flirty tone.

"Fuck off, kid. She's our princess." A familiar voice hit your ears, and you sighed in relief, watching Wooyoung essentially hip bump the kid so hard he fell back onto the sidewalk. Your heart skipped as you huffed a laugh, watching San come up as well and unlocked the doors so the two guys could climb in, right at the light turned green. San barely shut the back door before you took off, leaving the teenager's friends laughing at his sorry state. Crossing the median, you pulled into the parking lot of the park and slumped back into your seat.

"Got your favorite." San leaned forward, toned arm hovering over the center console, holding a plastic bag with one finger.

"Sweet!" You swiped it from him and Wooyoung got out, running around to your side where the window was still rolled down.

"Hey, pretty lady, want to go make out behind the bleachers?" He leaned against the side of your car just like the cocky teen had and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Uh, no." You wondered if he caught you glance in your rearview mirror to watch San get out of your car, holding the drink holder of ice coffees as well. You couldn't meet his gaze though, and surprisingly, he didn't respond, just stood up and started to follow San down the path.

"Hey, wait up!" You got out quickly, nearly forgetting your phone and to lock the car as you dashed after them. Finally getting half-way around the pond that was trying to be a lake, you sat on a picnic bench of the wooden shelter right on the edge of the water. Some ducks quacked as they lazily swam closer, hoping for a snack. As you took a long sip of your ice coffee, you watched San get up and go closer to the ducks, a little bit of his croissant left. Your eyes couldn't help but travel over the wide expanse of his shoulders and back. His arms were on display since he was in a sleeveless hoodie, and you smiled at his as the ducks happily ate the bread.

"That's bad for them, y'know?" Wooyoung called and the other man tossed him a bored look over his shoulder, then went back to the birds. Because you were too busy eyeing over your friend, you didn't notice Wooyoung watching you. He lifted half of his nose in a sneer, glaring at his friend who was taking up all of your attention. Wooyoung wanted to blame it on that San had started working out since you had all started being friends, but he wasn’t sure that was it.

"Just fucking tell him." He whispered harshly to you and his sudden mutter made you choke. San immediately turned around, and you waved him off, but he still went to your side, patting your back some to help.

"You okay?" He kneeled next to you, and you nodded, flashing a small smile, trying not to get red. Not like you could control it. Just then, something green flew through the air, flying past San's head as he stood, and he was toppled over by a mass of blonde fur.

"Jeremy! Get off of him!" A young woman scolded the golden retriever as it refused to get off of San, sniffing him and licking his face. Why am I jealous of a dog? You sighed, slumping back against the wood railing of the shelter.

"Why don't you tell him?" Wooyoung's next whisper was much softer, he sounded very tired.

"And get rejected? Ruin our friendship? No." You whispered back, still watching the cutest thing you've ever seen. The dog was a fat mood, refusing to get off of San.

"I'm so sorry!" The woman finally managed to pull the dog off of the man and he got up laughing. She immediately blushed, finally able to see San past all of the fluff. Looking away and down the path to where the green flying disk still lay you got up to retrieve it, since the dog had failed its job.

"Here." You forced a smile as you handed it back to her and she snapped out of her daze to take it from you, immediately looking back to San. Luckily, she left not too long after and you were able to continue the day with the two guys.

~*~*~

A week passed, and you still hadn't been able to work because the rest of the team couldn't get their act together and finish their parts. So, you had been left to your thoughts which is never good. You sat on the couch, boredly and only partially watching the TV. Your knees were pulled up to your chest and your hands lazily tapped a rhythm on the worn faux leather of the couch. Tilting your head, it rested on the back of the couch, and you stared at the ceiling of your loft apartment, the large ventilation pipes curving around the support columns high above your head. When the doorbell rang you almost didn't recognize it, thinking it might have been on the show. It happened again and you knew it was yours because the TV now displayed a commercial for some kind of sports drink. Getting up with a groan, you trudged over to the door, socked feet shuffling over the wood floor. When you opened the door, a young woman sat on the other side, and her face made you nervous. She looked…

"Hi. Are you (Y/N)?" She smiled gently and you nodded.

"I'm Jena (L/N). Can…can I come in?" When she said her last name, your heart fell. You knew immediately who she was.

"Sure." Your tone was flat, but since she didn't know you, it seemed she didn't notice. You motioned her in and toward the couch and you glanced around your place. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't nice either. She was in a sundress that was at least $300, and she had a giant rock on her finger. You grimaced as she sat on your very well-worn couch and you sat down as well, facing her by sitting sideways. She put her designer bag down, linking her fingers and resting her hands on her knee, legs crossed.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but…I'm assuming you know Daniel (L/N)?" You never wanted to hear that name again.

"Uh, yeah." You shuffled on the couch, the faux leather creaking under you.

"I'm his daughter. I have to admit I was a little…stalky?" She cringed at herself, smiling sheepishly.

"Dad is…well, he doesn't have much longer." When you didn't really react, she continued. On the inside, you just weren't sure how to react.

"They don't know if he drank too much when he was younger or what, but his liver is failing. He's been on a transplant list, but they can't find anyone compatible." She’d better not have come to get you to give him half of your fucking liver-

"Anyway, I was looking over his will-"

"Where's your mom?"

"Huh?"

"How…what about your mom?"

"Oh, uh." She looked down, a sad expression covering her face.

"When he got sick, she left him, so I'm in charge of everything." Rolling your eyes, you huffed, looking toward the kitchen, focusing on the picture on the fridge you meant to cut up.

"Uh. Right, your name is on the will." She pulled a packet of paper from her purse, showing you where your name was highlighted. You didn't even care what he was leaving you, so you handed it back.

"I don't want it."

"O-oh…if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" You raised an eyebrow, and she wilted under your glare.

"You don't know?"

"No, sorry." She hid bashfully behind the papers, "are we cousins or something?" You just stared at her in shock.

"No offense, but it’s a bit weird to have a niece in your will when you have four kids?"

"Look, if you want my part, have it."

"No! That's not… Actually, the reason I'm really here is-" She pulled something else out of her bag and you recognized it.

"Dad kept saying the name Naomi." You stood up at this and she flinched. You paced a bit, hands going to your head, fingers digging into your scalp. Breathing out slowly, you turn back to her.

"Sorry…keep going, I'm just…struggling with this." She seemed a bit unwilling to continue without asking anything, but she did so as you sat back down. Your ire was evident, you were sure.

"Um…well, I couldn't figure out who she was, so I looked in his yearbook. He's…" She flipped to the middle of the book, "with a girl named Naomi." She showed you the page, but you already knew it. High School Sweethearts read in flowery script over the picture of your parents.

"But when I looked her up, I couldn't find anything." Of course not. You never could.

"So, I used Google's new AI search with this picture, and I found a woman…" You hadn’t gone that far, still not really trusting any kind of program claiming to be AI. She pulled out another paper from her bag and showed it to you. It was an article about some town's mayor on the other side of the country, and the caption listed the woman next to him as his wife. It was your mother. But her name was wrong.

"It says her name is Carry, but that looks like the same woman, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Maybe they’re sisters? Twins even? I know it’s a long shot, but do you have her contact information? Even if they broke up soon after high school, maybe she would be willing to see him since he's dying…" As soon as you saw her face on the paper, your anger left, and you were holding back tears.

"I don't…but-" you took a shuddering breath, "uh, I don't think she'll go see him."

"Really?" She deflated a bit, and you looked down at your lap, picking at your torn jeans.

"Uh. No. She's… Okay, I'm in the will because I'm your sister. Those are my parents. She’s my mother." This information floored her, her jaw literally dropping. Sniffing hard, you hated crying, let alone in front of essentially a stranger.

"How old are you?" Your question snapped her back, making her flinch.

"T-twenty." Of course.

"Dad…He uh, left us and mom for…you guys. Then mom fucking snapped or broke or whatever and left us too." You looked at the printed off article, at your mother's smiling face next to some man you had never seen or heard of before. This shocked her even further. You gave her the article back and stood moving to the door.

"Uh, take me out of the will or whatever and just leave us alone please. Thank you." You opened your front door, not able to look at her.

"U-us?"

"Ah. (S/N). My thirteen-year-old sister." This must have really made this Jena girl realize why you acted the way you did. It wasn't that your father left your mother then fathered her, he had both families at the same time.

"M-my brother is twelve." Reality was hitting her.

"Great. That sucks for everyone, please leave." You motioned with your arm for her to get out and as soon as she shuffled out into the hallway, you let the door fall closed. Your shoulder hit the wall, and you slumped to the floor, hot tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your chest heaved as you sobbed, hand covering your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Fuck!" You screamed, grabbing a cheap ceramic bowl you used for change and chucked it across the room. It hit the column behind your TV and shattered, coins clattering onto the floor in its trail. You buried your face in your hands, breathing harshly, trying to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. It buzzed again a few minutes later, then again. Again.

"Damnit." You got up, storming over to your phone, looking at it. It was the group chat, Wooyoung and San were talking about doing something the next day, some kind of lawn game competition at the community college. When they saw that you read the messages and didn't reply, your phone rang with a call from Wooyoung.

"I know that we're not in college anymore, but we can get away-" You had stopped crying more or less, but hearing his voice brought tears back to your eyes and you fought a sob.

"Are you crying? What happened?"

"U-um…" You swallowed hard, a lump rising in your throat along with the tears.

"I'll be there in five…six minutes!" He hung up and you let the device fall onto the couch. Your shoulders fell as you stood in the middle of the main room of your place, glaring at the coffee table's scratched surface. A tear fell onto the plywood, then another. Snapping out of your daze when hard knocks pounded on the door, you only got halfway to the door before he opened it, finding it unlocked.

"(Y/N)?" Seeing the concerned face of your best friend made you feel safe and so your self-erected walls fell. He shut the door as he moved forward, catching you in his arms as you shriveled to the floor. Wooyoung held you tighter as you cried, desperate sobs and whimpers muffled as you pressed your face into his chest. Your tears darkened the red fabric of his sweatshirt, and he adjusted your position, so you sat on the floor, legs over one of his, cheek pressed to his collarbone. A tear of his own fell and mixed with yours on your jaw, but you didn't notice it. He didn't know what happened that wrecked you so bad, but he couldn't stand hearing and seeing you so upset. He even hated it if you cried at a movie.

"What happened, sunshine?" His embrace loosened so you could sit up straighter, tears still falling, but you weren't actively sobbing. Wooyoung cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping a tear from your eye. You had to take several deep breaths through the story, but you managed to tell him what happened.

"M-my mother's alive, Wooyoung." Your voice had quieted so much at the end that, but he still heard the pain.

"(Y/N), sweetheart, come here." He stood, helping you get up and he led you over to the couch. He grabbed your phone, and you rested back on the couch as he easily put in your pin without having to ask what it was. You listened half-heartedly as he called your sister, most likely just getting out of class, about to go to her art club meeting.

"Again? Is this going to be weekly? I think I can stay with Amanda, maybe Emily…" You heard (S/N) sigh, "what about my stuff?"

"Can't you manage with borrowing?" Wooyoung cast you a glance, your forearm over your eyes.

"I guess. What’s wrong with (Y/N)?"

"She's just really struggling with something."

“What?”

“Adult stuff.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, uh-huh.”

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready, little lady.”

"You better take good care of her Mr. Jung."

"I will Miss (L/N)." He hung up and put your phone back down. You felt the couch shift when he stood up, then felt his body heat as he kneeled on the floor next to you. Wooyoung gently removed your arm from your face, and you turned to look at him.

"Oh, sweetheart." He sighed, hand going to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the red skin of your cheek, brushing away a stray tear.

"C-can you call San? And we can watch a movie? Get Indian food?" You weren't sure how to read Wooyoung's expression. He seemed to be thinking, but then he forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure, princess." Wooyoung stood and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, and you blamed your turbulent emotions on your racing heart.

~*~*~

About two weeks later, you found yourself sitting on the couch, staring at the number you plugged into your phone. You hadn't pressed call yet, the non-local area code of the number glaring at you. It was a long shot, but you hoped calling the mayor's office might get you somewhere. You had been stalling for a long time, his office would only be open for another hour thanks to the time difference. Your sister was getting annoyed with you having her stay the night at a friend’s place, but luckily, she had a slumber party she was invited to. The sun was starting to set, and you finally worked up the courage to hit call, then turned it onto speaker, at 5:57. It was probably around 3 there.

"Mayor Elledge's office, this is Peg."

"Hi, uh, Peg. I'm…I'm trying to get in contact with Carry Elledge, but I'm not sure how to get ahold of her…" The silence scared you, worried that the woman would be too suspicious to help you.

"May I ask who you are?"

"I'm…a relative. It's about…my father's will." Please work.

"I see…I can get you her cellphone number." The secretary relented and you sighed in relief, thanking her several times. Typing the number she gave you into your notes app, you politely end the conversation and went to call the other number while you still had the courage to do so. Ring. Ring. Ring-

"Hello, this is Carry?" It was your mom, no doubt. Tears welled in your eyes, and you swallowed, voice coming out softer than normal to keep from crying.

"M-mom? It's me. It's (Y/N)." More silence.

"I think you might have the wrong number, dear." You felt your face fall, your eyebrows furrowing, your lips trembling.

"This isn't Naomi (L/N)?"

"No, dear, sorry." There wasn't any kind of recognition in her voice, but it was hers.

"O-oh…okay, sorry." The call ended and you pressed your lips hard together, jaw clenched. What the hell happened? You sat trying to wrap your head around everything, about thirty minutes passed and your phone rang. It was a different number, but it was the same area code as the other two.

"H-hello?"

"Are you the young woman looking for Naomi (L/N)?" A man spoke, and you wondered if it wasn't the mayor guy.

"Yessir."

"You must be (Y/N)."

"What the hell happened to my mother?" Your tone didn't have nearly as much malice as you had wanted. Even if this guy did nothing wrong, you hated him. He sighed. He explained that he found her near death in an alleyway. She had malnutrition and was dehydrated. He got her to the hospital, she was in a medically induced coma for a few days, and when she woke up…she didn't remember anything.

"So, she has no idea about her past life?"

"No, miss."

"Thank you for…not letting her die."

"I'm sorry to not be of more help Miss (Y/N). Though, I don't think it’s good for her to be reminded of her past life. I called because she is…having a panic attack. Maybe it was your voice, some part of her recognized it maybe? It’s clear she is traumatized from her past. I think it would be best if you leave her be." You didn't want to. You wanted to get in your car, grab your sister, and drive for the three of four days you needed, and get your mother. But…she wasn't your mother anymore, even if she did remember you, it was clear her brain was hiding you and your sister.

"I…Okay. If you want to know, Daniel (L/N) is dying."

"Good."

"Yes."

"I appreciate you wanting to reach out, but I would like you to lose our numbers.

"Yessir." He hung up. Your body must have run out of tears along with your energy because you just slumped back into the couch. Something rose in you then, something bold. Grabbing your bag, phone and keys, you left your place, heading for Wooyoung and San’s.

~~~

As you rode the elevator to the third floor, you were shaking. Whether it was nerves or pure exhaustion you weren't sure. Going down the hall, you heard voices further down and you finally saw the owners as you turned the corner. San was standing at his apartment door, some bleach blonde girl wedged between him and the door. You weren’t sure how to feel, your emotions were too turbulent. Somehow it felt like your heart finally completely shattered, but you also were relieved, but the latter made you mad. You turned and fled before you could see his lips actually meet hers.

~~~

"(Y/N)?" You heard your name through the door, then Wooyoung's rapid knocks. You were slumped against the island counter, hands stinging and bleeding, shards of glass and ceramic scattered around the room. Tissue paper and packing peanuts were strewn about the main room of the apartment as well, old papers and books torn and discarded. Splinters of wood from broken frames and dismembered toys littered the floor as well, and you ran your thumb over a glass paper weight shaped like a cat.

"(Y/N)?!" Wooyoung jiggled the door handle harder, but it was locked. A red smear followed your thumb on the glass cat, the cuts on your palms still oozing blood.

"Damnit, (Y/N) (L/N)! Open the fucking door, I know you're in there." He was panicking, you could hear it in his voice.

"Fuck off." You sighed, throwing the glass piece as hard as you could, and it hit the far wall. The ear chipped off and broke, the finish over the brick wall flaked off, then it clattered to the floor.

"(Y/N), please princess, let me in." You heard a thump, presumably his forehead hitting the door. You licked your lips, the salt of your tears hitting along with the iron tang of blood. You weren't sure if it was from where you had bitten your lip or the cut on the tip of your nose.

"(Y/N). Please, I need to see you, sweet girl. Please let me know if you're okay." You didn't know what time it was, just that it was late, only the light of the storage room flowing into the room from the door. Your phone had been going off, and you hated the message you saw on it, so you chucked it across the room as well, breaking it instantly. The place was a mess, and you were grateful your sister wasn't home to see your breakdown.

"Go away, Wooyoung." Your voice was hoarse after your crying, but the door was thin, and you knew he heard.

"Not a fucking chance, (Y/N)."

"Just…just let me be alone."

"No! Open the door, damn it!"

"Go home."

"Shit. (Y/N) open the freaking door or I'm coming up the fire escape!" You knew he meant it. You got up, not bothering to be careful of what you stepped on, only wincing slightly as a speck of glass wedged in your foot, joining other scrapes and cuts already present. Shakily, you undid the door chain, and he must have heard you turn the deadbolt and the lock on the knob, because he opened the door before you could. He gasped, looking at your face, pale but red from smeared blood of the small cuts on your face. He looked at your hands too, and the bloody footprints on the floor.

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Wooyoung shut the door, dropping his backpack and cupping your face with his hands. They were cold from being out in the early autumn night and you didn't even react when he did so. Wooyoung lifted your head so you could look at him and his brow furrowed in despair at the blank look in your eyes. Finally, he looked around the room in the low light, shocked at the carnage.

"I called her." You managed to get out and he looked back at you, confused.

"Mom. I looked up the mayor guy's office number and called. She didn't… She didn't know who I was. Her husband called and told me she had some kind of amnesia after he found her. Then he told me never to try again. So, I…" you licked your lips, "then I…I decided and went to your place. San was taking some blonde bitch into the apartment." Your breath shuddered and his shoulders slumped.

"(Y/N)-"

"I…I went to the store, but they were out of Cayman Jacks. The Indian place down the street closed early. The pizza place was out of white sauce… I grabbed some random food from the convenience store and then when I got home… I got a text from that Jena girl, my half-sister," you spat, "dad's dead."

"(Y/N), sunshine, you must… What can I do?" He stepped closer, one hand leaving your face to grab your hand. You flinched at the sting, and he held your hand up to see the cuts in the skin. It looked like you had a few splinters as well.

"Help me clean this mess?"

"I’ll just do it, lets get you cleaned up first."

He picked a few splinters out of your hands and feet, then sent you off to shower. Wooyoung vowed to work on the mess more later, maybe even get Seonghwa to help, but he dealt with the dangerous stuff first. He had shoved and/or swept all the debris into a big pile in the ravaged storage room, leaving the mess for another time. After carefully picking up all the sharp shards and splintered wood, he vacuumed to make sure everything was picked up. He glanced up when you shuffled out of the hallway, a towel draped over your wet hair, a soft light-weight grey sweater draped over your torso, and a darker gray pair of shorts nearly hidden by the shirt. Your head was bowed, hands and feet red and he shuffled over to lead you to the couch.

"Did you use soap?"

"Mm. Conditioner stung." You sat, and he pulled your hands into his lap so he could look them over.

"I'll help you with these." He let your hands go and then his own went to the towel on your head, gently rubbing it over your hair, then scrunching the strands with the fabric to get more of the water out. Gently he laid it around your neck and shoulders to the still damp strands didn't drip on your shirt. When Wooyoung returned with your first aid box from the bathroom, you were still sitting in the same spot, staring blankly at a spot on the couch. Sighing, he went back to you and neither of you said anything as he smeared ointment on the cuts. He went ahead and just wrapped some bandages around your right hand since it was so cut up, but put band aids on the other. Wooyoung did the same with your feet, and you didn't even flinch even though you were usually ticklish there. As he finished some other little tidying things, you ran your finger over the chipped nails of your opposite hand, the polish flaking and cracked as well even though (S/N) only painted them two days prior.

"(Y/N), look at me." He prompted and when you didn't, he gently lifted your head with his finger under your chin.

"I'm so sorry, princess, that your…about your mom. And your father. But with San-"

"It was a stupid thought. I don't know why I got the courage to go." You tried to look away, but he forced you back to look at him, thumbs stroking your cleaned face. The little cuts had already pretty much closed, and he leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on the scratch on the tip of your nose.

"It's not stupid, (Y/N). Neither are you, he is." You huffed a wry laugh, but he shook his head.

"No, he is. He's a fucking idiot. You wanna know why?"

"Yeah, why?" You pulled both of your legs up under you, leaning with your side into the back of couch, head resting on the back cushion.

"Any many who wouldn't fall in love with you after knowing you is an idiot. I think I'm the only smart person there is." Wooyoung shook his head, throwing the band-aid wrappers onto the coffee table. It took your tired brain a bit to process what he said, but you still barely had the energy to snap your head up to look at him.

"What?"

"You've looked at him like he hung the moon for like two years but you’re still like a sister to him or something. Fucking stupid."

"You love me?"

"Yes! And you're an idiot for not noticing. That's why I'm the only smart one." He stood up to actually throw the wrappers away, using the task to flee since he was flushed from his confession. He stood looking down into the nearly full trash for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do next. Before he could turn back to you, he felt your arms wrap around his middle from behind, your cheek pressing to his back. He wasn't very tall, one of the shortest in your friend group, but you were small compared to him. Normally your hugs had a great deal of strength in them, like you did as a whole, but while they were around him, they were shaky.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot, Wooyoung." Your voice was quiet, he felt it vibrate through him more than actually hearing it with his ears. He sighed.

"Its…its fine. You can't help how you feel any more than I can." He laid his hand over your arm, gently prying you off of him, but pulling you back into him once he turned around. Resting back against the island, you went with him, letting him hold you close. His fingers ran through the drying strands of your hair, and you shuffled even closer when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I…My brain is too frazzled to give you a response right now, Woo. I…I want to tell you-“

"It’s fine, (Y/N). I wasn't expecting anything back…"

"No, its…I can't put my emotions together right now, but I might like you back, but it could just be my subconscious looking for comfort."

"Can I help? We can talk it out? What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want…?"

"Anything." You pulled back to look at him, looking over his face. He was so freaking pretty, his longer black hair was pulled half-up, a few strands framing his face. The ends of the little strands brushed over the beauty mark under his eye and your eyes flitted to the small one he had on his lip. You bet most people didn't even know it was there. Bringing your left hand up, your sleeve fell so it was no longer hanging by your fingers, and your index finger ran over the small dot. You flinched when he quickly grabbed your wrist, a little tighter than it maybe should have been. He realized this and loosened, sliding his thumb up to your palm.

"(Y/N). Be careful, sweetheart." With his grip on your wrist, he pulled you closer.

"Anytime you're close to me I want to hold. I want to kiss you. I want to pin you to the nearest surface and…" He licked his lips, brow furrowing, "Don't let me do something you'll regret because you are weak now." You grimaced, looking down, stepping back from him.

"D-don't…" Your breath shuddered and he could tell you were starting to cry again.

"Hey, hey." He pulled you back in for a hug, "I will hold you as long as you want. I can lie on the couch, and you can lie on me. We can sleep there. We'll watch that movie you like so much that your sister hates…" You sniffed, nodding and he kissed the crown of your head before you pulled back, and he led you to the couch. Not even ten minutes later he was stretched across the old couch, you nestled half on top of him, half between him and the back, the intro of The Last Unicorn playing on the TV. You normally didn't use a blanket on the couch, not unless you were upset, so it was tucked under your chin.

"How did you know to come?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you come here?"

"Oh. (S/N) was freaking out because you weren't answering any texts or video calls, and your phone was going straight to voicemail. I texted her that you broke your phone and that she didn't need to come home." Like it felt left out, his phone buzzed, and he shifted to grab it from the coffee table. You sneakily glanced and saw that it was from San.

🐯: where you at??

He just put the phone down, but it buzzed not even a minute later.

🐯: is (Y/N) ok, or do I need to send Becca home and come over?

"You better not fucking come here." Wooyoung huffed quietly, managing to use one hand and reply.

🦊: She's fine now. Leave us alone.

"That's harsh."

"He broke your heart; I should be much worse." He clicked his tongue, picking his phone up when it buzzed again on his stomach.

🐯: wtf you good? Are you mad?

"Yeah, I'm fucking pissed."

"He's calling." You mumbled, looking at his screen while he looked at the TV, trying to think of what to say. He angrily slid at the answer button, having to do it a second time for it to work.

"What?!" He nearly shouted into the phone, his even louder than normal voice sharp in your ear.

"Sorry, sweetheart." Wooyoung brushed over your hair, "What?"

"Woah, dude, are you sure you're okay?"

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Woo." You scolded, and that seemed to make him even madder.

"Is she okay?!" San must’ve not heard.

"Yes, you stupid- She's fine. What do you want?"

"Can I talk to her?"

"No, you can't."

"What? Why?"

"Just go…hang out or in Becca or whatever-" You smacked his chest and he yiped.

"Did you make her upset; did you guys get into a fight?"

"No-"

"I'm coming over-"

"Damnit, no!"

"I don't see why you fucking care, Choi San." Something snapped in you, your last vestiges of rationale fizzled out. Wooyoung choked around a laugh, quickly putting the call on speaker.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He sounded like a whimpering puppy.

"Why are you trying to stick up for me or defend me?"

"Y-you're…you're like my sister-" Your fingers dug into Wooyoung's shirt so hard you scratched the skin underneath some, and you sat up, grabbing the phone.

"You know why I wasn't okay? Huh? I found out my mom's alive but doesn't remember me or my sister. My dad is dead. I couldn't get my favorite butter chicken, and the guy I like is at his place sucking face with some chick who looks like she can't do basic addition. So, fuck off San." You hung up and slid Wooyoung's phone away, so it landed on the coffee table, sliding just a bit further past where it landed. Huffing, you laid back down onto your other friend and continued to watch the movie. You both tried to focus, but after a few minutes, you both burst into laughter, and it was a good five minutes before you could fully calm down.

"I'm so fucking tired." You rested your hand over your eyes, wedged between Wooyoung and the couch and he turned toward you, blocking your view of the TV.

"Do you feel better though?" He brushed your hair off your face, and you nodded, nestling into the crook of his neck.

"Just sleep, sweetheart." Wooyoung pressed another kiss to your forehead, and you couldn't help but listen.

~~~

You woke up sore, not sure if it was from sleeping on your shitty couch or from the destruction you wrecked on your apartment the night before. Wooyoung was still asleep, curled around you, and still so, so pretty. You assumed he thought that if you waited, you would realize you were just wanting Wooyoung for comfort, not because you liked him back. But, after sleeping on it, you weren't so sure. Before, you really didn't know if you liked him back or not, but as you watched him sleep (feeling a bit creepy honestly) you thought about it. When you first became friends, you had a pretty big crush on him. The closer you got, the more it seemed he got on your nerves, and he was just annoying and immature. But after graduating, you got much closer; he really was your best friend. You were genuinely closer with Wooyoung than San, but you almost always hung out as the three of you. Could you have liked both, but chose San because you didn't want to admit you had liked Wooyoung the entire time you knew him? Did he annoy you so much because you had feelings for him, like some elementary age boy who pulls a girl's hair? And says he hates her? Gently, so as not to wake him, you cupped his jaw with your hands much like had the day prior to you.

"Be careful, sweetheart." He echoed the same words from the day before, not even opening his eyes.

"Why?" His eyes finally opened, the intensity in his gaze taking your breath away. Wooyoung scooted an inch closer, pressing you further into the cushion, his knee wedging between your legs. You gasped when he pressed closer, finally feeling him against you.

"If you let me kiss you, I won't stop there." His lips hovered over yours, tongue flicking out and running over your bottom lip as well as his.

"Then don't."

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm sure, Wooyoung. I thought about it, and yes, I have…had a crush on San. But that's what it is, like a school crush. You were right that I was stupid. I don't love you because you're my best friend, you're my best friend because I love you. I’m in love with you." Normally such flowery words would make you cringe, but yours were genuine. He breathed out hard with his nose, brow furrowing, eyes flitting away from yours, down to your lips.

"That was part of the reason I was so upset last night. Yes, I felt heartbroken from seeing San with that girl, but I also felt horrible, because I wasn't nearly as upset as I thought I would be. I was just glad it wasn't you with some bleach blonde bitch. After I found out about my mother…I was really glad it was you that came over and not San." Wooyoung couldn't hold a giggle back, trying to keep his face serious, but he couldn't.

"And I'm glad my sister called you, that you came." You smiled purely, but his turned to a smirk, the arm not under your head curling around you. You gasped when he slid the last little bit closer, hitching your leg over his hip and grinding his hardening cock into you.

"You have ten second to tell me to get off, otherwise I'm fucking you stupid on this couch." You whimpered at his words, hands leaving his face and resting on his shoulders. You bucked your hips, causing him to let out a soft grunt.

"Stupid, huh?" You smirked back and you squeaked when he rolled on top of you, soft lips capturing your chapped ones. The kiss wasn't gentle, his tongue quickly invading your mouth, tasting every inch of your tongue, his strong thigh hitching hard against your mound. Sneaky hands snuck under the waist band of your shorts, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of your ass, pulling up against him, feeling the outline of his dick against your tummy. Wooyoung pulled back from the kiss, letting you catch your breath, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. He kneeled over you, pulling his shirt off and chucking it across the room. You whimpered, your own sneaky hands stroking over the skin of his chest and abs, when had he been that built?

"Up." He ordered, and you sat up just enough for him to pull your shirt off, along with your sports bra underneath.

"Fuck!" You twitched as those sinful lips wrapped around your nipple, teeth nibbling the peak before moving to the next, then up. Finally, his trail of kisses stopped at your throat, and he sucked your skin between his teeth there. It was too high to hide, and he worked the skin nearly raw, leaving a large purple welt on your jaw.

"Ah!" You jerked under him when his hand dove under your shorts and panties, two fingers swiping through the slick of your folds.

"You’re already this wet for me, sweetheart?" Wooyoung chuckled in your ear, those two fingers not hesitating to plunge into you. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, the slight burn left your head swimming. He only pumped the digits maybe twice before retracting his hand, and instead shoving his fingers in his own mouth.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, climbing off of you, then shoving you up the rest of the way on the couch, landing on it with his stomach. Your shorts and panties flew through the air, joining the rest of your clothes and he threw your legs over his shoulders. Your skin felt like it caught fire when his tongue wasted no time in wiggling inside your cunt. It was long and he knew how to work it, his nose brushing your clit as he drank from you like a thirsty dog.

"Woo-Wooyoung, god!" Your breath hitched, legs twitching around his head, that deft tongue leaving your core to circle your clit, those two fingers sinking into your heat once more. He pulled back, licking his lips, spread into a sinful grin.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart." He groaned, crooking his fingers up hard, battering your weak spot.

"W-w-wait!" Your orgasm was coming on fast, and his fingers kept up their antics as he laid over you again, nose nuzzling behind your ear.

"Cum for me, princess." He licked over the crest of your ear, and he chucked breathily as your cunt clenched and spasmed around his fingers, their wiggling spurring your orgasm along. You shuddered and heaved as he pulled out, and you flinched when the slick pad of his index finger lowered, swirling over your pucker.

"Huh?" Your back arched from the odd sensation, but he didn't go further than a few teasing brushes.

"Maybe later, I want to taste all of you. And I want to fuck you full of my cum there too." He sank his teeth into your earlobe, and you turned your head to the side submissively, whimpering.

"Oh, you're a good girl, huh?" His teeth scraped along the column of your exposed throat, your head twisting more to give him better access.

"Fuck, you're gonna feel so good on my cock, princess." Wooyoung groaned, scattering kisses over your neck, shoulders and throat as he wiggled to get his pants and boxers off. Hauling you back down the couch, he easily grabbed your thighs to lead you to wrap them around his middle. You sighed feeling the heat of hard cock slide through your folds, head swimming as the fat head prodded your entrance, then slid up.

"Wooyoung, please~!" You whimpered, wanting him to sear through you, craving the burning sting.

"You wanna know something, sunshine?"

"What?" He chuckled at your slightly slurred speech.

"I plan on railing you so hard you don’t even remember who San is." He hummed and you couldn't brace for his entrance, his fat cock filling you with a hard snap of his hips. Your back arched, breath forced out of you, chipped fingernails digging crescents into his back. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, gummy walls spasming and fluttering around his cock, somehow the pain of him gouging into you threw you over the edge so quickly it made your clit sting too.

"God, fuck, Wooyoung!" You finally caught your breath enough to speak and he groaned long and deep.

"You're so fucking perfect, (Y/N). Oh, sweetheart, you're made for me!" He groaned a laugh, fading into a whine as the clenches faded with your orgasm. You felt like a truck hit you, vision blurry, lower half protesting at Wooyoung's brutal entrance, but you loved it. Your hips jumped again, cunt sucking him in further when he sat up more, pinning on of your knees to your shoulder, holding the other at his waist.

"Look at your cute pussy struggling to take me, huh?" He loved the sight of your tight core weeping around his cock, slick shining along his flesh and both of your inner thighs.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart~" He giggled, and your fingers gouged lines down the skin of his back as he started, pace immediately relentless, battering your cervix with the head of his dick. The hand at your thigh holding it to his side left, sliding down your body and gripping your ass.

"Hm, you like it, pretty girl? Like my fat cock?"

"Fuck, yes, Woo~" Your breath heaved, and you let out a delirious giggle, gasping and whining hard as his rapid pace barreled you through your third orgasm. Your cunt stung, but it was so good. You squealed when his hand left your butt, only to slap the skin hard, the sting travelling up your hip and into your thigh. He felt your walls grip him harder at the spank, so he did it again, harder.

"Oh, shit-" Your head lolled against the couch cushion, face and neck flushed, heaving for air. Your nails clawed down his chest to his stomach and he licked his lips at the sting.

"(Y/N), you're such a good girl, yeah? My good girl~"

"Y-yours!"

"Yes, sweetheart. All mine, oh, you're doing so good."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, princess. This pussy's so good too, welcoming my cock home?"

"Yeah!" You giggled, dumb on his cock and he hadn't even come once yet.

"Aw, love, can I cum inside? You on the pill, yeah? Let me paint you white, huh? Fuck you full of my cum, then flip you over and give you more?" He was laughing every few words, sounding almost a bit delirious himself. He had wanted to have you like that for so long, and he was going to fuck you on every surface in the place if he could.

"P-please!"

"Okay, I'm gonna then-" Wooyoung hummed, it faded to a groan, then with a few more stuttering thrusts, you felt heat blossom in your lower stomach. His cock pulsed as rope after rope of hot jizz filled you, a few drops leaking from where he split you open, leaving a mess on the couch. Your body jerked as his orgasm faded, you almost blacked out from your own. Your clit was throbbing, folds swollen and red, but he was still painfully hard.

~~~

"Hold on here." Wooyoung moved your hands to the mount of the shower head, and you wrapped your fingers around the metal pipe. Your toes curled as he entered you again, hot water hitting his back and dripping off of him onto you. Drops of cum hit the shower floor along with the water and he started to pound into you again. The water made the slaps of the skin of his pelvis against your butt and thighs all the louder, nearly muffling your soft whimpers and mewls. Your ass was red, covered in hand-shaped welts, thighs littered with hickeys and kiss-marks. His back, chest and stomach were covered in scratches, a bite-mark etched into his shoulder and a single hickey clung to his jawline. You weren't sure how long it had been since he first got inside you, but it had to have been hours ago. You had no idea where his stamina had come from, and your once burning cunt had more or less numbed to the sting of overstimulation, tiny orgasms shattering through you without warning or reason. You felt the wet strands of his hair on your shoulders as he leaned over you, hand cupping the underside of your breast, the other over your hands on the shower mount.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I love you. I love you so much." He kissed your shoulder, avoiding a sore-looking mark he had left.

"I-I love you t-t-too, Wooyoung-!" You heaved for air as another tiny climax shivered through you.

"Breathe baby, you gotta pace yourself, I still gotta fuck you stupid.” Wooyoung giggled and you just squeaked and mewled, since he already had.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[projectbluearcadia]

[P1] Heart of Blue

Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

[ Scenario: After a sweet and short date, Lucifer gets a l'il greedy and wants to spend some more time with you. With cuddles straight into caring sex, Lucifer wants to savor every moment.

Part 1 is fluff; Part 2 is fluffy smut. ]

I am publishing before my self-imposed due date for once, but it comes at the price of two parts. Here's to all the vanilla Luci-lovers <3.

Wordcount - 1178

“I was just thinking about getting...” What—Where the hell did he go?! you think as you look for Lucifer through mounds of antiques. Bizarre china, paintings, books, borderline ancient tools, rusty plant holders, old clothes, and no sign of your (stupid) boyfriend. He was right next to me! you think, annoyed as you wander back through the way you came. 

“Look at this,” you hear him say, before you feel his hand around yours—half-shocking you to death—before he drags you in the direction he's been looking. A wall full of pans. What in the ninth hell is he… “It’s Dead Steel,” he explained, hefting one such pan off the wall before he placed it into your hands and nearly made you drop to the floor in the process. He laughed softly as you struggled to hold it, shaking as you carefully set it down onto a dangerously creaking floorboard. 

“And… And why is that so fascinating?” you ask, trying to conceal your exasperation with him, and he turned to look at you, bemused. 

“It’s Dead. Steel,” he said, again, before he effortlessly swung the pan up by the handle and inspected the engraving. “The Devildom long fazed out of using it because the material is highly resistant to being enchanted. It’s heavy, it’s damn near indestructible, great for hitting people…” He flipped the pan over, fascinated as his burgundy eyes roved over it. “I haven’t seen one of these in thousands of years.” His eyes widened at the dark red, nearly invisible squiggle on the bottom. “Wait, this is my pan. I was wondering where that went.” 

“...you really are an old man,” you can’t help but snicker. To think he was so old that his possessions were ending up in antique shops that sold only items that were at least 500 years old.

“Oh, shut up, you,” he grunted. “You aren’t even the sperm cell that squirted from your father’s penis.” You find yourself furtively looking around while you cringe, hoping to low hell that no one heard that. 

“Lucifer!” you scold, and he chuckled. 

“Aw, does this old man embarrass you?” 

“Yes, but more importantly, please do not talk about my father’s genitals.” Some things are better left to the imagination, although Lucifer hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that concept yet. 

“You started it,” he hums, apparently pleased with your reaction nevertheless as he takes the 25 kilo pan in one hand. Child. He is actually a child, you complain in your head as he swings the handle on one finger. I guess he’s buying it. And how is he doing that? “MC, if you don’t pick something, I will buy something for bed,” he teases, picking up a cat o’ nine tails and shaking it tauntingly at you. 

“Now that you mention it, I was very interested in something before you ran off, thank you,” you answer shortly before you take him by the hand instead, dragging him back to where you had been roaming before he went and disappeared, shoving him in front of a small, glass case. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and his leather-gloved hands rest lightly on the case. 

“You really will melt my heart one of these days, MC,” he says solemnly, confusing you as you look back at the case. It’s just a pair of fountain-tipped pens that were completely unremarkable aside from what appeared to be two different snakes wrapped around them. One was the color of the ocean, and the other was the color of the sky. It wasn’t one ocean or one sky, because the snakes’ scales had been painted one by one into a satisfying gradient. 

“Is it because they’re cheap?” you guess, and Lucifer shakes his head as he takes the glass case with a faint yet bittersweet smile. Reminiscing, but it’s not the same. Did I find a precious memory by accident?

“No, not at all,” he replies as he takes the case with him, still faintly smiling as he brings both items to the register, paying for them both (He got a discount just because of who he was. Bastard).

“So are you going to tell me?” you prod as he hands the case to you, turning the pan in his hand as he walks in the direction of home with you. “Did you own these too?” He inclines his head. So he just bought back two old possessions. I’m almost surprised he didn’t demand that he receive them for free. 

“I gave them to Lilith as a gift,” he replies wistfully. O-Oh. Wow. Out of all the pens in the world I could pick… “I never really liked the man whom she would eventually call her husband, but I wasn’t stubborn enough that I couldn’t see how happy he made her. I gave them to her so that they could write to each other discreetly.” His tenderness, his kindness and his rich smile in that moment make you remember exactly why you fell in love with this prideful little bugger. 

“So… it’s a fond memory,” you clarify, and Lucifer softly chuckles behind his fist, his eyebrows scrunching together as he walks next to you, his step slow as if he never wanted to stop walking with you. 

“Fond, stupid, sweet… she actually argued with me about it because she said I’d be punished too if she was caught using them. I ended up yelling at her.” Lucifer smiles a little bitterly. “I would have rathered that God held me responsible as her older brother…?” Lucifer glances at you in confusion as you shake your arm in pain. “MC, did you just hit me?” 

“Really need to make it a habit to use magic to protect myself when I do that,” you grumble to yourself, rubbing your elbow, which had made contact with his oblique. Like elbowing a wall, Jesus... “Yes, I hit you. You’re doing the thing again. What’d we talk about?” 

“‘You are not at fault for your sister’s death, you do not deserve to be punished for your sister’s death, and no one blames you for your sister’s death. God can eat shit and go fuck himself,’” Lucifer parroted, word-for-word.

I’m happy you remember, but you really should be saying that from a first-person perspective... “I’m sorry. I know she’d hit me herself just the same. It’s just… difficult sometimes.” Lucifer shifted the pan to his other hand and offered his now-free one to you. You squeeze the glass case in your left before you lay your right in his, smiling with contentment as he looks at you fondly. “All the more reason to prize the things I have.” He gave you a surprise kiss on your temple as he leaned closer to you. “I have a meeting with Diavolo in half an hour, but…”

“But?” you prompt, and he rests his head against yours. 

“If… you’re not busy, then we’re cuddling up somewhere.” 

“Big softie,” you accuse lightly before you kiss his cheek. ‘If you’re not busy’; what a load of nonsense, you think with a smile. He already knows I don’t have anything to do today. I guess Diavolo’s just going to have to wait…

[inthefightgarden]

so umm i just finished mother of learning in like 5 days, and my brain is now full of wriggling squiggling worms. i'm also just starting a re-read with the audiobook and it is already giving me even more questions and ideas! so here i am to share my wormy burden ^_^

anyway, here's something chapter 1 started me thinking about...

do you think zorian's mother knows about their bloodline? (also her name is cikan. i had to look it up, so saying it here incase anyone else needed reminding)

we know that cikan really hated being associated with zorian's grandmother, but she was still immersed in witch culture at least somewhat in her home life. we don't really know how old she was when she first started to reject those practices, so it's hard to judge how much she would have learned before she went out of her way to avoid it, and we also just don't have enough context about the witches' traditions for raising their kids to make guesses about her knowlege level.

we do see later on in the series (what comes to mind is the confrontation in koth) that cikan doesn't have much knowlege about magic as zorian knows it (eg. what you can expect from certain spells used for travel), but given that the witches are an separate spellcasting tradition from the ikosians that doesn't necessarily tell us loads about what she might have picked up from her mother.

also, knowing you have a bloodline is pretty important information to have, so even with the antagonism you'd think zorian's grandmother would've at least made sure cikan knew about that... if SHE knew, anyway, cause that's also not something we can really take for granted is it? there are a few ways i can picture it being

option 1. most of what we see in the series is not typical from an empathy bloodline. archmage zorian is an outlier and should not be counted. and even daimen, the more "normal" natural mind mage is still a whole magical prodigy, which isn't exactly baseline for most people with empathy either. so yeah... zorian's grandmother may not have known that she had a empathy in her family in the first place.

option 2. we do hear (i don't remember when or who from. maybe one of the teachers? was it ilsa? idk) that empathy is a pretty common form of natural magical ability, and it's kind of a mild plot twist that it's a bloodline thing if i remember correctly. so even if zorian's grandmother knew about an empath in her family history she might not have known that meant it could pass down.

option 3. part of the reason in world that empathy isn't usually thought of as a bloodline thing (again, if i'm remembering right) is because it's so comparatively common, so it's entirely possible that empathy bloodlines (and possibly to a lesser extent bloodlines in general) are just quite common for witches to the extent that it's not really something that needs to be said explicitly, or at least wouldn't have been if cikan hadn't done so much to assimilate with the dominant culture and distance herself from witch tradition and knowlege

BUT, those options are thinking about the reasons cikan might NOT know about their bloodline... so again, does she know? even if she doesn't think of it as a bloodline she might be aware that her family has a history of empathy. so now for some thoughts on what the situation might be if she IS aware of the family history.

(note. i'm pretty damn sure cikan herself isn't an empath. zorian would be able to tell if she was "open", and she just doesn't have that understanding of how other people feel. but if you think otherwise, or just want to think about a "what if", i'd love to hear about it ^-^)

(oh and same goes for kiri and fortov)

cikan might know that there's a family history, but not really know what that means in practise. as i mentioned earlier she doesn't seem very knowlegable on magic, so she might not have any clue about the signs and how it typically presents.

she also might be in denial about the possibility that her kids inherited something like that from her, given what we've seen of how she thinks about her heritage. or she might have focused any concern about the possibility onto kirielle, who seems to be where much of her trauma goes, and not considered that the boys might get it. especially considering the witches' beliefs about sex and magical lineage.

but she also might know or suspect that zorian and/or daimen is an empath. which if nothing else is certainly the option with the most potential drama.

personally, i doubt she knows that daimen is an empath. he put a lot of work into hiding it, and i feel like it would probably affect how he sees him. given how much baggage she has about her witch heritage i just can't see that knowlege not somewhat tainting her golden boy, you know? like i know she's fine with him being a mage and really proud of his prodigy status, but i just can't envision her seeing empathy the same way, and i think it would come through in a slightly colder attitude to daimen. especially given the cultural stigma against mind magic when she's worked so hard to become socially acceptable.

but i'm just not sure whether she knows about zorian or not! on the one hand i could totally see her just being oblivious, in denial, not having the right context, whatever, but I can also kind of see the way she treats him (specifically in relation to him socialising and stuff), through the lense of knowing he's an empath.

like he straight up told her as a child that crowds caused him physical pain. he had tp stop going to church because it made him actually pass out! that is some pretty intense stuff to just ignore... we're never told that he saw a doctor or anything about this via his parents (as far as i remember, please let me know if i'm missimg something!) so did she have some idea about what was going on or was it just plain neglect?

and if she did have some understanding of the situation, how did that affect her behaviour? did she think if she ignored it he'd just adjust and never find out? did she just not want it to be associated with her family history if/when he did find out? did she think that if she forced him into triggering situations he'd eventually realise? or that he'd learn to control it subconciously? or did it just not matter how he felt as long as he was still functional when it came to his political use? did she hide it more out of personal shame, or a legitimate conviction that she was protecting him like with kiri?

like i said, i'm not sure what my headcannon is, but the topic fascinates me. as you can probably tell from how long and rambly this got. sorry ^_^'

but yeah, i'd love to hear what other people think!

[yiga-hellhole]

twili headcanons 🫵

you sly dog. i'll have you know i am actually working on a lore doc RIGHT NOW . but let me whip some up anyhow!!

twili are the mixed and shuffled descendants of basically all of hyrule's peoples. though most of the population has gotten kind of a "standardized" appearance, noble families with pickier marriages will resemble their ancestral equivalents more

zant's family is primarily zora descendant, while midna's is gerudo/sheikah

the glowing markings on their body can be from birth to signify clan lineages, attained through life stages (appear on the skin when entering puberty, coming of age, pregnancy, etc), or with a careful hand can be tattooed. the royal house's tattoo is on twili midna's upper right thigh. on zant, this same mark (though missing the squiggle that signifies a ruling monarch) is on his back

that being said, i've talked about this before, but the black markings on twili bodies are like membranes that cover their sanitary areas. that's how they can walk around nude and you see nut'n at all.

on that same note, clothing is purely a way to signify status or personal taste. clergy, royalty, and palatial staff all wear some sort of head covering in humility though. high clergy is the most thoroughly covered, being the only ones clad head to toe

many twili are obligate carnivores. a lot of light world foods make them sick, too

having been cast aside by the light world, there's a cultural shunning of hyrule's deities, as well. instead, they've developed somewhat of their own pantheon, of which the sols are the conduits.

as i said, there's no day/night cycle, nor a seasonal one, so people tend to go to sleep and rise at their own schedules. there's always *somebody* bound to be awake to attend to some duty or other. that is to say, nobody's really in quite a rush most of the time.

all twili have an inherent knack for magic, but mostly in the sense of little charms and telekinesis. noble houses, the clergy, and scholarship are most actively involved with magic, leading to the creation of complex spells and structuring of magitech contraptions that rival, if not scarily succeed, sheikah traditions.

the throne isn't inherited per se, as the reigning monarch's children are electable candidates for the throne. from each noble house, the most talented caster is chosen as a candidate, and upon the perishing of the monarch, the most suitable candidate is elected.

the twili palace is just one of the locations in the realm - normally it's on a cliff, but zant lifted the whole shit into the sky to avoid beef with every other noble house in the realm. it kind of resembles the dark world/lorule in that it is similar to hyrule, but a lot more barren. oceans are uninhabitable, a lot of it is desert, and with the lack of a sun, dense vegetation only clusters around where Sols are being maintained. with the lack of inhabitable water the zora descendant twili are pissed off to all hell 24/7

hair length is correlated to marriage candidacy for adults. twili of marrying age will either have a full head of hair that they refuse to cut, or at least a strand or two of considerable length. bangles are the most common engagement gift, which are meant to be tied at the end of a braid at the proposal. after a couple years, if the husband(s) (usually, but wives can too) of the pair so choose, it become socially acceptable to cut the hair and wear the bangle elsewhere on the body, like on jewelry

other than that, twili are excessively laid-back, no-strings-attached, and a touch frivolous. having many flings before marriage is commonplace, as it takes a good bit for emotional attachment to kick in. (this isn't the case for zant, specifically, whatsoever)

[transingthoseformers]

I also love red-and-white Megatron with red optics. I figured he got rebuilt post the final fight before this and looks more like a mix of baby Megs and MTMTE version with more compartments he's had added to help with medical work and decided since he has so much space might as well basically become a walking operating theater. He isn't quite the same size but still did go up in size pre-almost war and felt no need to slim down just repurpose his mass.

Figure most of the gray is now white and red portions are bright medical red. Also some red bracing on the arms which are compartments for storage. The dark gray remains that color. Not sure if the black should stay black or also be red.

The squiggles are only red medic symbol outlines while in training with blue markings on the shoulders indicating the hospital he is training at and his mentor. When full status is achieved red chest symbols filled out and blue marking removed.

Hands painted red, and he upgrades them because he has now qualms about frame upgrades. I am thinking a sane Tyrest is commissioned as part of slimy Zeta connecting people. Megatron is wary, but Starscream convinces him that if it is a setup, Starscream has now compunction "biting the servo that fed them" and Megatron should take the "damn upgrade". Tyrest thinks it is a challenge of his engineering skills and Megatron actually gets a good impression of him. He's old, very old and they discuss philosophy and history and the rise of the Functionalists and then he talks politics with Starscream. Minimus who is there, is a little heart eyed.

Yeppppp

Makes sense makes sense!

Ah yes of course more pockets— a need!

Okay but that's fucking hilarious that he can just pull whatever out of where-ever and it's mostly medical supplies. Useful definitely definitely but also it means he can somewhat literally pull a scalpel out of his ass if need be

oh he sounds so pretty, I waffled on answering this yesterday but it was too late in the sleep cycle for that

Hmmmnnnn I'm also liable to suggest we lighten the black up to the same as that light gray? (In my photo edited sketch, I followed the first EOM explanation and changed the black to red, but it WOULD look interesting with the white)

I am internally chanting "you don't have to worry about having too many colors, Thunderclash exists" because anxiety brain

of course! zeta is plotting!

I feel like Tyrest and Megs would have cool interactions, especially since this is another situation where we see a side of a character we know exists but don't explicitly see in the comics (or maybe we do in the end kinda?? We know he was healed at that point, but in the end things were really picking up pace as the ending and he got turned to dust)

Oh mins

[goron-king-darunia]

Eggtober 9 Mushroom and Cheese Omelet (Featuring Green Onion and Black Pepper) Clip Studio Paint, Gouache Brush, Dry Gouache Brush and Freckle Pen. 10 Colors, 30 Minutes. I’ve got a few little idiosyncrasies about how one spells omelet/omelette (all of them personal and not at all serious,) but I do enjoy omelets, however you want to spell them or make them. I don’t care if it’s an officially named recipe like the Denver Omelet or something you throw together with scraps and leftovers. All omelets are valid. A personal favorite of mine is just some nice sautéed mushroom, melty cheese, and whatever onion is on hand. I’ll never say no to some bacon or ham, but honestly, even the humble mushroom shines all on its own, and they’re fun to draw. So mushroom omelet it is! Gonna drop a little extra below a cut because it’s mostly me musing on personal stuff and whinging about spelling, but big thank you as always to @quezify for giving me an excuse to draw all sorts of tasty egg dishes. These warm ups are really helping me with other projects! I took something that normally takes me several months to finish and cranked it out in a matter of days. Once I started doing eggs, it was so much easier to just open that other piece and finish the sketches, the line art, and the coloring! Been sitting on my computer for a month and I did the majority of the work in this last week! (It’s not even a hard project, I’m just ADHD and a perfectionist and my phone is full of games and I cannot get off the free dopamine machine to use my BIGGER free dopamine machine to do art when art feels like work and I’m terrified of failure. But you cannot “fail” Eggtober. You just draw an egg. And every time, it’s fun. Every time it’s low pressure. Every time it’s a small reminder that even if it’s not perfect, it’s an egg. And eggs are always worth it.)

I was a little late on today’s egg, but my sleep schedule keeps getting pushed back because, again, I have ADHD and I do not control the sleep. I just exhaust myself and then lay down and then wake up 8-12 hours later and it’s anyone’s guess when or why or how. Anyway, I do have the luxury right now of just sleeping like I’m alternating shifts at a 24/7 convenience mart so I just roll with it. Art doesn’t abide by time constraints and most of my current projects can be done no matter where the sun is. Enough about that though. Omelets. Or Omelettes. (It will forever irk me that USA American English decided to spell half of its words differently because hurr durr telegraph and print press charge by the letter, we’re just gonna invent the predecessor of text speak but make it official and now all word processors are angry. Forever irked that we in the USA insist on spelling “omelets” the truncated way, making me confused every time I get the red squiggle under what’s technically ALSO a correct English spelling. [I read too much Brit Lit as a kid and now I type like a foreigner according to every single word processor I own and also according to my ESL Aunt. “You type like an English person. Or a Britain? However it’s said.”] Anyway screw American English, sometimes the Brits are right, LOL. [I am 90% teasing and this is 100% a me problem and I’m blowing the silliest anthill into a circus tent of a mountain because I am angry when machine tell me to spell different.]) I want to consolidate the Englishes where we just have Brit English, American English, and Consolidated English. And I want consolidated English so that the word processors STOP TELLING ME THAT I’M WRONG. No, I will never write color as colour. Brits are wrong on that one. But Brits are right about “judgement” and “omelettes” and several others. Sorry, not sorry. “Judgment” looks like a combo of judge and augment and my brain reads it dumb and “omelettes” is just objectively better, damn it! 😂

[senor-plume]

Birthday

the Buddha balloon belly is the wish I blew out on my birthday with greasy hair long and brown sitting at the dining room table on a rainy day in flower blooming May

two turtles a few frogs with candles in their mouths and a brick colored penguin on my ten toes painted by a loved one on a bored Thursday morning when sex became obvious and downright clipped wings in the sack

so, my pets are injured and hungry wishing for popcorn snacks and the grass is really making the moves on me as the cigarettes have all been blown out stubbed and snubbed out

so go tend to your children call yourself a mother or sister or my uncle who used to love me but she (say it with me now) died

the first punk rock song was all country and I tried to explain that to her with construction cones substituting for ears and her butts are all wrecked fired and black like a microwaved blue bird who chirped when she should have cheeped

the dumb feathered bitch, she never really did understand me

misfortune cries in happy families a bunch of like-minded humans who credit charge their futures away with fancy playing cards (full house…solitaire…jokers wild) and sawbucks that pass as tools in the garage full of rusty nails and a miscarried baby who really had it better off that you and I

so let this song be tuned up and prepared for flight this fancy squiggle is just another poem in a land of shaking skin houses and look at him with those long ears with a tail between his shaven legs

this is my birthday and I don't blame you for never receiving that receiver and giving me a jingle you poor fucker I can't understand you and I never will as my girl sits next to you pulling spaghetti up with her fancy fork and years later you're just gonna make her (you pig..you animal…you slit throated maggot) so it ain't a happy birthday for me this time around the clock

but how many strokes can I beat you by?

how many strokes of that clock will I call a life? Damned if I don't make it to 86 or 98

hell, I am an early departed and you just got antsy is all you took the cake and shoved it into her face much too early my friend, my arch nemesis so blow out those frog candles and sing to me a few choruses of happy happy happy anniversary

I'm all dead on the inside anyway and you just knew it is all

[t1oui]

ok so i’ve seen a ton of different interpretations of harry’s scar (by different artists, mostly) and i wanted to give one of my own

ik i never pay attention to canon (i am on tumblr, after all), but personally, i think that the movies were really lacking on harry’s scar. it’s supposed to be so obvious, to help identify him, and the movies just gave him a faint little cartoon lightning bolt on his forehead.

personally, i — and many others, considering the drawings i’ve seen — think it would be much more interesting if harry’s scar looked like an actual lightning bolt, with lots of lines and squiggles and all. but i still want to add onto that. what if harry’s scar went as far as to go over his right eye, leaving him half blind? just imagine with me for a sec.

the boy who lived, otherwise known as the hero who’s constantly running into things because his depth perception is ass (tm).

harry being the person who does a full 180 whenever his friends says “don’t look now, but…” because he can’t see otherwise.

constantly running into walls, furniture, people, etc. that end up in his blind spot

only one of his eyes is green, and the other is pale blue/almost white, which would look kind of creepy if he wasn’t constantly hitting his face on things

because he’s really clumsy, his glasses are in need of repairs constantly.

sometimes people will go to say “you have your mother’s eyes” but only one of them is green so they awkwardly say “you have your mother’s eye” instead

harry has a cane that he sometimes uses when he’s in an unfamiliar place or just somewhere like diagon alley, which has a lot of tripping hazards/just hazards he might not notice

just. half blind harry.

[ingridbutler-blog]

Just. Keep. Going.

I was so deeply depressed and literally contemplating my escape of this life so often that it is a miracle that I found the strength to do anything else. I am so aware of the calling on my life and my spiritual gifts now that I could never go back to that place. I realize that I am blessed and I want to share this with whoever needs it. This opportunity was given to me to share with those who need a real opportunity to self heal. We can do it together. 

I started my fluid art journey by putting a canvas on top of a rubbermaid storage container, cups of paint on the garage floor and me squatting beside it or bent over breaking my back to create something amazing. I had no idea what I was doing but I was beginning to heal as soon as I decided to try. I did not realize it yet but that was what gave me the purpose to live. No matter what was going on I came back to my painting day after day. I just kept going. 

Each painting was a work of art, not because of what went on that canvas but because of what it was creating in me. With each color selection and carefully curated palette, the universe was designing a curriculum for me to follow, with my salvation as the reward. The fog was lifting and all I could see was the ASMR effects of paint squiggling and twisting onto the canvas, creating patterns that made me smile and feel hope. It was the most meditative healing experience ever. 

The piece pictured here is that first painting that I did. It is so full of hope and wonder, of possibility. Even though I was doing it wrong, I was actually doing it right! I was going with the flow, I was trying something new, I was exploring and experimenting with an art form that was allowing me to release something that wasn't serving me. I was creating! Best of all, with no hang over, no rehab, no headache or belly ache, no weight gain, no negative side effects at all. I was filled with love of self and determination to learn. That determination gave me the jump start that propelled me forward. It wasn't easy to get to, when I was forcing it. It was effortless when I allowed it to just flow. Then... I just kept on going.

The take away is that if you quit you'll never know how far you could've gone. I have painted over a hundred pieces by now, each one having it's own personality and story. Each one a part of my story, and my journey out of that deep dark hole I was in. I know if I can do it, so can you. I'll do it with you. My story was an embarrassment to me for way to long and it was literally killing me by not telling it. However, even talking to people didn't really reach the depth I needed by that time. It was literally connecting with my higher self, that part of you that really knows what you need at all times, that we ignore or don't even know, that gave me the counseling I needed. We'll talk about connecting to your higher self next time. Your homework is to ask the Universe to open you up to your higher self, then just meditate in that space. 

Have a blessed week. 

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[xochitai]

Star Crossing: Animal Valley

Today's Earth object of fascination was: a game. 

Lotor had brought it back—though Kolivan wasn't entirely sure when or where he got it from—and they did have a free day...

So here they were, setting up a device with a small army of adaptors. Surely, that could be simplified, but Lotor insisted it was more authentic this way. Neither were fluent in any of Earth's languages, but they visited their daughter and her family often enough they could open and start a new game without any trouble. The "new game" option always being on top didn't hurt either.

A short animation played before a character creation screen appeared. The default avatar was a stout little thing, with round hands and a large head. Beside is a menu, with several tabs. There were many colors, but few selections of ears. It was a human game, after all, and their ears are rather... standard in shape.

The two ended up making a character that looked like a blend of both of them.

Then they accidentally hit "reset."

—

"So that symbol represents confirmation, the other denial. What does that squiggling one do?"

"Let's see." He clicked it, and a block of text appeared. Between the two of them, they knew about half the words.

He closed it.

—

The screen went dark, and then the character they had finished remaking appears, lying on the ground in a grassy landscape. A creature approaches from the tall grass.

"That one has ears like yours."

"It's not human though."

"I am aware."

Many paragraphs of dialogue passed between the characters. Hopefully, it wasn't anything too important.

—

"Oh, we get a house."

—

"They keep showing that little picture of a crystal."

"We have a counter in the corner."

"Perhaps it's a form of currency?"

—

"I wonder why that text is red?"

—

"How do we owe money? We just arrived."

—

Lotor was muttering to himself, "I'm certain this was labeled as something for leisure. Why would one create a game meant for fun yet start the player off with debt? Is it a sort of teaching device? To warn young ones to be cautious of predatory loan agencies?"

—

They planted a variety of things, mostly around the house. The layout was messy, but it could be fixed later.

—

"A couch? Is that not a leaf?"

—

At some point, a selection of tools had been added to their inventory.

They tried one, and with a click, a chunk of the hill beside them had been removed.

—

There is a pond behind the house now.

—

Another creature appeared, this one very orange compared to the first. They clicked through the dialogue and then the screen went black.

"What did we do?"

But when the screen lit up again, the creature was still there, emerging from a tent, with a small building being constructed behind them.

"I think we got a neighbor."

—

The trees—once just saplings—beside their house had blossomed, and now bore fruit. However, there was something odd amongst the branches.

"What is- that rodent is eating our lemons! Why are you getting out the net?"

"I'm going to catch it."

"It is destroying our fruits!"

"I'm not going to kill it for that!"

—

They decorated a portion of the town before taking a break to explore. At the base of a mountain, they found a cave. They entered, but the only things the screen would display was the glowing outline of the exit and their silhouettes in front of it. They would need some kind of lamp.

—

More colorful creatures joined the town. Some looked almost familiar, but that was probably a coincidence.

—

They found an almost laughably simple way to pay off their debt: a vegetable called "radish" can be sold to a character that randomly appears in the valley for many crystals. Their garden has two rows of them, along with their inventory.

—

There were boards in the center of town, with a character's face and an item. Presumably, the player was meant to retrieve those items. Each had notes, but not many either of them could read in full. Why does that character need so many "apple seeds" though? 85 seems like a lot...

—

The lantern had been crafted; it was time to head into the cave. They descended. Every few levels, the environment changed. First was an abandoned mine, then a natural cave system. Soon, bits of crystal appeared in the walls, that got larger and larger as they went deeper. The crystals started glowing, or at least they seemed to, until they saw the glowing fungi that began covering the passage.

They found the entrance to the next level in the same place it always was, but this time a menu pops up with a bit of text and two symbols: confirm or deny.

They click "confirm."

Yet again, the screen goes dark.

Slowly, a sickly green light swells, revealing a towering fungus, filled with holes where insects fly in and out. It shook, and from it emerged a massive insectoid with sharp mandibles and a pulsing abdomen tipped with a barbed stinger. It noticed the intruders and buzzed with anger. 

Another menu appeared, with pictures of each tool they had obtained so far. One box at the very end was locked—likely the one that would actually be useful.

They paused for a moment to deliberate before choosing the pickaxe. They tried to leave the area as soon as it closed, but the game wouldn't let them.

There was no other choice: they had to fight.

—

It didn't attack directly, not at first. Instead it summoned a flood of buzzing drones from its colony. Frantically, they searched their inventory. Tools were not available, but other items were...

—

They threw a radish at one of the drones. Enraged, it bites the vegetable in half.

Time to start swinging.

—

Thirty seconds later, the drone that bit the radish collapses from the air. The two give each other a knowing look.

—

It took every last one of their radishes, and, if the shaking bar at the top of the screen meant what they thought it did, nearly their life. But they made it out of the cave.

It was morning when they had left, and now the sun is rising over the mountains. They returned to the house, to let the character rest, and passed the orchard, where a rat sits in their lemon tree, feasting. Again.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

I don't have the book in front of me to get the exact quote but Crowley's signature for Adam is described as a kind of wiggly sigil that glowed and represented his "real" name. It's definitely not an L he wrote there. I think it's a completely made up wiggly sigil that represents his real demonic name, not a real world sigil that represents his former angelic name. Since he's separated himself entirely from who he was as an angel I don't think he'd sign hell's paperwork with his angelic name.

yep: for full disclosure, passage reads: "...drew a complex, wiggly sigil on the paper. It glowed redly in the gloom, just for a moment, and then faded."

now im not going to put this as if to convince, but i, myself, am personally very happy to entertain the idea that the narrator, god or otherwise, might not be entirely reliable - in the book generally, in this specific passage, whatever. i am perfectly happy to sit in my silly little theory, and personally at least wonder why the narrator wouldn't have been specific in what the signature might have represented.

but you're right nonnie, could very much have not at all been an L!!!✨ but in the absence of any further information, im happy to entertain any of the following: that it was his signature of his demon name, signature as a person/a soul (ie neither angel or demon, just simply crowley and the essence of who he is), or it was just a hastily drawn squiggle of a snake.

either way, any of the above (and simultaneously none of the above) could have been representative of the name 'lucifer'. it might not be representative of 'lucifer' at all. crowley could indeed be confirmed as not being lucifer, but still have the same narrative of who we know lucifer to be.

i think im ultimately making a meal out of distinguishing the two, but that last bit is the bit that i wholeheartedly am behind; that crowley asked questions, maybe got a bit cocky, was the first to fall, and precipitated the war... and i dont think it's a theory that's entirely implausible✨

(so when i say 'lucifer theory' or 'crowley was lucifer', that's what im referring to - the narrative of lucifer, if not specifically the name). hope that makes sense for everyone!!!

[savrenim]

I’ve been thinking about a line I read in fanfic line recently : "you're not supposed to meet the love of your life when you're sixteen"

(about someone who met the love of their life when they were sixteen, about what do you do with that a decade later)

thinking about the fact that Lizzy and I started dating right after I turned twenty. we met when I was 15-nearly-16, in the winter. apparently she hated me and had a full enemies-to-lovers arc that I just didn't notice because Lizzy is a Disney princess made of sunshine and rainbows who Does Not Hate People so she decided to Be My Best Friend so that was all that I saw back in those days. we were a coffee shop AU. and a fake dating AU. "you know, if I weren't straight, I would just date you" she told me when I was 19-nearly-20, in the winter. I wasn't looking at her because I was driving and our lives weren't a movie, I looked at the road.

three months later she was not straight. four months later we were dating.

I've been with her for the entirety of my adult life ; the end of college ; all of grad school. I've been with her a number of years that is better measured "a quarter of my life (already passed) a third of my life (next year) half of my life (barely more than a decade away)" and when I put it in those terms it's terrifying? because (you're not supposed to meet the love of your life when you're sixteen)--

a bunch of second years have moved into my house and I forgot how different being twenty-two, twenty-three was ; didn't consider that..... these are people who in a lot of ways have experiences closer to a college student than to me, and I didn't expect that because I saw ‘graduate student’ as a monolith, because I didn't notice how much I was changing in my early 20s, only how much I have changed. and now I'm..... at the end. Lizzy and I are going to sign a paper, next year most likely, not a question of if just when, that says that we're married ; move in with each other when I have the income and health insurance benefits of no-longer-being-a-broke-graduate-student to support that, and alongside the other love of her life, start a family. I have never dated anyone else for longer than two, three weeks, except maybe the poly squiggle, which in hindsight was definitely just a friend group. she was-- is-- my first and only relationship. I'm almost grateful that I'm not *her* first and only because at least one of us has any experience in this. I'm just bringing me.

which isn't to say I have any hesitation. I like the person I am and the people we are together, and I like the promises that we made. just-- how much of my 20s were different because I had already met the person I knew I was going to marry (you are not supposed to meet the love of your life when you are sixteen) and there was no question of if, only when (when the tax benefits, the health insurance benefits)-- ; how much energy did I not spend not looking to answer a question that I had already answered

how many people have I never tried to meet, dates that I never tried to go on, awkward confessions that I never stumbled over, heartbreak that I have never cried through? I remember crying through heartbreak when I was seventeen. I had a tub of ice cream. it was fun.

(in truth, one. we were in sword class together. we had a brief two week whirlwind romance that we were trying to figure out if it was a romance or just friendship until we awkwardly confessed and I immediately told her I did have a girlfriend, long distance, in an open relationship, that she should know existed before we went any further. she spent the night in my bed, side by side. after all, there was only one bed. she told me she just wanted to be friends the next morning. I didn't cry or eat a tub of ice cream; I shrugged and decided not to do it again, because it was fun, but it had been time-consuming and I'd honestly prefer to focus on math.) (in truth, I met the love of my life when I was four years old and my father taught me algebra and calculus before I even knew how to read, techniques and symbols that I'd forget as he stopped being interested in spending time with his children, but a love that I would not. sometimes I think that that's why Lizzy is the love of my life. because she understands that math will always be the love of my life.) you're not supposed to meet the love of your life when you're sixteen, not unless you're a character in a story that someone else is writing. I met the love of my life when I was fifteen, though, so I think I'll be okay. 

[pelman]

blorbo bingo storm-called: shellendorf splamoofa!

to explain the silly faces: "actually The Favorite (shhh)": Have you seen the way I post about this man. It is incredibly obvious that he is my favorite. I have DIRECTLY STATED that he is my favorite. I am dating him in real life we are holding hands right now. "relate to them maybe a little too much": i do relate to him but i mostly just really, really vibe with him on a conceptual level. love this autism spiderthing.

to explain the squiggle: i dont think hes a constant bastard but he can have a little bit of bastardly action as a treat

taken from this meme; send more full stop

[eldritchsurveys]

1167.

What was the last liquid that you choked on? .

How many times did you wake up today before actually getting up? >> Only once. I woke up at around 07:15 which is acceptable to me. What breed was the last dog you saw? .

When you sign your name do you use your middle name? >> My signature is basically just a vaguely "MD"-shaped squiggle now, because I don't see the point of being any more precise about it. I can't remember the last time I had a full, real signature.

Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower? >> Out of the shower, I can't stand being in the Wet Box™ any longer than I have to be.

Describe the last place you went farther than one mile from your house? >> That would be Target. I trust I don't have to describe a big-box department store to the average reader. Who did you celebrate your last birthday with? >> Sparrow. Who else?

Do you have anything important to do today? >> I didn't have anything important to do today, which was ideal because all I wanted to do was play BG3.

Was your last kiss initiated by you or the other person? >> Considering how often Can Calah and I kiss each other, this isn't a detail I'm liable to recall.

What appliance in your house had a light bulb burn out last? .

Do you buy a ton of things at the store at once or just for that day? >> We do weekly grocery runs, so yes, a ton of things at once.

What did you last eat that required milk? >> Cereal, like 2 months ago.

What brand of clothing dominates your wardrobe? . When getting dressed do you put your pants or shirt on first? >> Usually pants, but this is not a hard-and-fast rule.

What color was the last thing you ate? . When drinking hard alcohol do you take shots more or make mixed drinks? >> I prefer cocktails.

What is one song you listen to that you’re sure not many people do? >> Scritta by Johnny Hexx, and I'm reasonably sure that not many people listen to it because he has 88 whole monthly listeners on Spotify. (Even allowing for the fact that not everyone uses Spotify, it's still pretty indicative of being relatively unheard-of.)

Have you ever woken up next to someone after a night of drinking? >> I mean, yes. If what you're actually asking is if I've ever gone to bed with a stranger whilst drunk and then woke up next to them like "???", no.

Is your toilet paper on the right or left side of the toilet? >> It's sitting on the tank because we don't have a roll holder on the wall.

Have you ever been told you’ve punched someone in your sleep? >> I am the one who's told people that they punched me in their sleep.

Do you use a handrail on stairs if there is one? >> If I feel like it.

What was the last thing you saw that made you smile? >> I don't keep track of this, I can't possibly remember. What is your favorite drinking game? .

Do you have any tattoos that you don’t like anymore? >> I do not.

What was the last thing you sat on? >> My bed.

Who was the last person to sleep in your bed? >> No one sleeps in my bed but me.

Do you have a shower curtain or door? >> Curtain.

When can you legally go to an American bar? >> Um. If a bug is in your car, do you kill it or try to push it out your window? >> I just open the window and let it find its own way out. But I'm also the passenger so there's less of a possible issue if there's a bug on my side of the car.

Does your mail go to a P.O Box or to a mailbox at your house? >> I have a mailbox.

Is there laundry in your room that could be done? >> Sure, but I won't need to do it until Wednesday.

Who was the last person from your high school graduating class you saw? .