#and expect more thursday inspired stuff

[io-u-a-moon]

"someday we'll be complete like modern saints

baptize our kids in gasoline

and hang our doubts up in cathedrals

so that they turn to faith in the colored sunlight"

- Thursday, "Asleep in the Chapel"

[helen-with-an-a]

Something About Finals pt 1

Hiya, so this was originally supposed to be all 1 story, but then I wrote almost 10K words so I've decided to split it up so the next part/s will be out tomorrow etc. This is inspired by the Pokal final when Lena fell and shouted 'mein Knie'. I hope you enjoy

Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2

Description: There's something about playing in a Final that R really hates

Word Count: 3.7k

Moving to Wolfsburg might have been the best thing to ever happen to you. Was it a huge risk? Maybe. 18 years old – almost 19, as you kept reminding your parents – and wide-eyed, moving to country where you didn’t speak the language and you had no one to call a friend to help settle you in. It could have been the worst mistake of your young life. Except, it wasn’t. Yes, moving had been terrifying … packing up your belongings into suitcases and buying a one-way ticket was something you hadn’t anticipated doing at such a young age. But the offer from Wolfsburg was too enticing. You made your debut for your childhood club at just 16 years old and the national team came calling a year later. Offers came flying in when you expressed to your agent that you might consider leaving the club. You had expected it to still be in the WSL; one of the Manchesters perhaps, or Chelsea, or Arsenal. You hadn’t considered even the slightest possibility that an international league was looking at you. But you couldn’t not go; this was a chance to play with the greats, to play in another league, to gain even more experience.

Your flat was small, a shoebox with a too small kitchen and an even smaller living room and bedroom, but it was yours. All yours. It also helped that you weren’t the only newbie … and by some coincidence, you lived right across from each other. You officially first met at your media and signing days.

“Hallo,” she said merrily. “Ich bin Lena, aber alle nennen mich Obi.” She stuck out her tanned hand, a wide smile on her round face. You understood the first part, but the rest confused your somewhat.

“Ha-hallo. Ich bin Y/N.” Your German was very stilted, but you were trying. You had a Club appointed tutor every Tuesday and Thursday to help you get to grips with the language. You had a Duolingo streak going, you tried to watch as much TV in German as possible, but you still weren’t the best.

“Do you want me to speak in English?” She asked, smiling wider at your relieved sigh.

“I promise I am trying, I’m just not very good.” You explained, you didn’t want to come across like a stereotypical Brit, you really were putting in the effort to learn the new language.

“It’s not a problem, I’m sure you’ll pick it up in no time.”

And you did … although it helped that you spend basically every day with Lena who insisted on being your personal teacher. At first, it was on your way to training, since you lived opposite each other, you car shared. She would drive as you fiddled with the radio, slowly incorporating more and more German into your conversation. Then the car rides became after-training coffees where you would spend far too long chatting the afternoon away. Then the coffees became dinners and breakfasts, and before you knew it, Lena had cemented herself firmly in your life. She was your everything. Your best friend. Your person. And you wanted more. You wanted your post-match snuggles to be more than just two tactile best friends recharging after a hard game. You wanted your shared dinners to mean more than just two friends hanging out. You wanted your daily cuddles, your shared wardrobe, your stuff in her shower, your pictures on the wall to be more than just friendly interactions. You wanted to hold her hand, and place kisses on anywhere you could reach. You wanted to have to hold you and tell you how well you played and how proud she was of you. You wanted to look after her and for her to do the same. Looking back, it was easy to see how innocent you were.

It took the team’s Christmas party and an intervention for you to finally admit your feelings for each other. Too many of the girls had become too fed up with the strange push-and-pull dance you and Lena were doing to let you get away with it. Ingrid had marched straight towards you as you stared longingly at your best friend, oblivious to the looks you would receive back when your eyes darted away. Ingrid took you firmly by the wrist and dragged you into the bathroom, instructing you to stay put as she disappeared again. You were too shocked to do anything else until an equally confused Lena was shoved into the bathroom as well.

“Talk to each other, for crying out loud.” Frido had shouted through the door.

“You both are head over heels in love with each other.” Ewa clarified. The silence that followed was so, so awkward. You stared firmly at your feet as Lena leant against the sink.

“Is it true?” Lena asked first, breaking the quiet. You took a deep breath, this was it. You gulped, eyes never leaving the patch you had decided to stare at. “Look at me,” she demanded softly. You shook your head. You couldn’t watch your best friend, the person you considered the most important person in your life, reject you. “Bitte sieh mich an, liebling.” How could you refuse when she spoke so softly, so sweetly? You let your eyes drift up, taking in her outfit appreciatively before settling on her chocolate eyes. As your gazes met, your racing heart slowed slightly, your ragged breathing evened out, your nervousness melted away. She always could calm you down. “Is it true?” she asked again. “What Ewa said … that you … love … me? Is it true?” Your eyes danced nervously away, unable to hold her intense stare. “Please,” Lena surged forward, one hand coming to your waist as the other cupped your cheek, guiding you back to looking at her. “Is it true?” Her eyes scanned your face, taking in the festive makeup, the blush that she was fairly sure was due to her proximity rather than any product you put on or alcohol you had consumed. You bit your lip, nodding slightly.

“Yes,” you whispered so quietly it was barely audience. She sighed, relief flooding her system (although you didn’t know that) as she closed her eyes. You also squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to look at Lena as she voiced her flattery, but she really didn’t feel the same way and that you would always be her best friend and nothing more.

“I feel the same.” Your eyes flew open. The shock must have been apparent on your face as she huffed out an amused snort, her thumb rubbing at your cheek. “I want … this … us, for however long you want me.”

“You … you do?”

“Ja, of course I do.” You let out a surprised laugh. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that Lena liked you back.

“Do you wanna go out for brunch tomorrow?” You asked hopefully, a crooked smirk appearing on your face. She chuckled lightly, a loving expression filling her face.

“Like on a date?” She asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. You nodded. “Yes, liebling. I do want to go out for a brunch date with you tomorrow.” An infectious grin graced your features, hers following similarly.

It took three dates for Lena to officially ask you to be her girlfriend. It took another one for you to take initiative and kiss her. It took 4 months for you to properly confess you loved each other. After a year, you officially moved in with her. She was your everything and you were her all.

It wasn’t until the Euros that you realised just how much she meant to you.

You had always known this was a possibility. You were drawn in different groups, and then different quarterfinals, and then semifinals. And then you were facing each other in the European championship finals. Your home Euros. A packed Wembley and the nation backing you from their homes. All you had to do was beat Germany … beat Lena. Your victory would mean her defeat. Despite reassurances from her that regardless of the result she would still love you, you couldn’t help the nerves from bubbling up. Yes, you knew that logically she would never hold your success over you in that way – just like her winning wouldn’t change your feelings for her – but you were a worrier. After your Sweden game, you had spent over an hour on the phone, giving and receiving reassurances of your love, your pride and your well wishes.

It was barely 10 minutes into the game when it all went wrong. Funnily enough, you were marking Lena, stepping towards her to crowd her out of possession. You had succeeded as well, tipping the ball away just enough for Keira to collect it and start the English attack. It was as you turned around, extricating yourself from Lena … no, not Lena, it was just a German player, just a part of the opposition and not your girlfriend at this point in time … that you felt it. You had planted your foot and twisted, pushing off the grass to run into the open space. It was a move you had done thousands, if not millions of times in your life, both on and off the pitch. Something pinged, and then popped and your knee felt strange. You gasped at the pain, a shocked intake of air that had Millie and Leah looking at you in concern. The shout you let out as you went to the floor had Sara and Marina slowing their defensive block. Eventually, the ref’s whistle went when it was clear that you were not about to get up and continue play.

“Kid, talk to us, what’s wrong?” Lucy asked, her hand coming to smooth over your back. All you could do was let out a whimper in response, still clutching tightly onto your left knee, trying to push back the agony that was radiating through your leg.

“Medics are on their way, honey. Just hang in there.” Millie scratched at your head tenderly. All Lena could do was look on in deep, deep concern. She was frozen in place, near enough to the huddle of England players to hear the worry in their voices but not close enough to see your face. It was Lauren Hemp who nudged her, nodding at you, and telling Lena that you needed her.

“Obi,” you called out weakly for your girlfriend. All you wanted was her to wrap you up in her warm, strong, soft arms and tell you everything would be fine. Lena jumped into action, lightly pushing through the England girls to crouch at your side.

“Hey, liebling,” she cooed as she grasped onto your hand. You clutched it so tightly that she thought you might have broken her bones. “Is it your knee?” She asked, praying that it wasn’t as severe as it looked. You moaned, nodding slightly. The girls in the huddle around you all made eye contact with each other. You had gone down off the ball … in a twisting motion … and now your knee was causing you enough pain that you couldn’t speak properly. “Ok, liebe. The medics are here.” The circle split away, most of the English players leaving to regroup slightly further away. Lena had gone to move to the side as well. She could see the German team looking on with worry etched on their faces. You were good friends with most, if not all of the players – knowing them either through Wolfsburg or having being introduced through Lena in the 18 months you had been together.

“Don’t go.” You whined as the medics rolled you onto your back, looking up at her with tears in your eyes.

“I’m not, liebling. I’m right here.” She squeezed your hand three times. Ultimately, though, you were separated. You were loaded onto the revolting orange stretcher and carried off the pitch to a loud round of applause as Lena went back to the German huddle.

At half-time, Lena had tried to look for you on the England benches or in the tunnel but had no luck in spotting you.

“She’s still getting tests and stuff.” Jill took pity on the younger player, walking down the tunnel side by side. Lena nodded, clearing her throat slightly.

“She’ll be ok,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, trying to keep the nerves and bad thoughts from creeping in.

“She’s a tough little cookie,” Jill agreed. “We’ll make sure someone tells one of you if there’s any updates.” Jill had always taken an embarrassing aunt type roll in your life, keeping a solid eye on you during national camps and was one of the first to be introduced to Lena, alongside Lucy and Millie.

“Tell Poppi, uh … Alex Popp, if there’s anything to know.” Lena said quickly. Alex was injured and definitely wouldn’t be playing this game; she would be able to get the information and make a judgement on whether to tell the squad. Jill smiled and nodded before turning to the English back rooms.

Mixed emotions flooded you when the final whistle went. You had just won the countries first piece of silverware since 1966. You were European Champions. But it was at the expense of your girlfriend. You watched from the sidelines, crutches keeping you upright and stable, as Lena sank to the ground, head in her hands. You slowly hopped onto the pitch. You were slowed even further by the other England girls, they swarmed you, pressing kisses to your foreheads and gently squeezing you as you told them the news. Eventually, you made your way to Lena. She was in Poppi’s arms, Alex whispering reassuring and comforting words in her ears as they both cried. You didn’t clear your throat or make any indication you were there and waiting for her. Instead, you busied yourself with looking around the stadium, taking in the crowd singing along to Sweet Caroline.

“Hey, mausi.” Alex smiled at you.

“Hi, Poppi.” She pointedly looked at your crutches and then raised an eyebrow, silently asking you to confirm what she already knew. You nodded, a sad smile forming. She closed her eyes for a second, nodding and letting go of Lena and moving away, giving you to privacy.

“Hey, bubba.” You stood awkwardly, grimacing as you met her watery eyes.

“Hi.” She said dejectedly. You crutched forward once before Lena snapped out of her daze, rushing to you, and pulling you into a hug. “I’m so, so proud of you.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“No, no, liebling, don’t be sorry. You deserve this, more than anyone else. I’ve seen you put in the work for this-” she stepped back, hands on your shoulders and she looked in your eyes.

“But so have you. And-”

“No, I won’t hear any of that. You are not apologising.” You sighed but nodded, nonetheless. “My girlfriend is a European Champion.” She smiled at you as she shook you very gently, quietly cheering for you. You couldn’t help the wide grin that appeared. It wasn’t until Lena scanned your body that she seemed to fully clock the crutches.

“Your knee,” she gasped. You hated telling anyone any form of bad news, but this … this was a thousand times worse than anything you’ve done before.

“I’ve done it. It’s torn. I’m having surgery back in Germany in like a week or so.” You blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling. You couldn’t even say the words … you had torn your ACL in a European Championship final … it made it too real.

“Oh, liebe …” Lena pulled you very gently back into a hug. “It’s ok. You’ve got this, ja. I’m not going anywhere, you will not be doing this alone,” she reassured you emphatically. You nodded, breathing in her slightly sweaty scent. “Now,” she said as you pulled apart after a long minute, but not long enough in your opinion. “You are going to go and celebrate, but not too hard,” she teasingly warned. “I’ll text you, ok?” You nodded, closing your eyes as her hand cupped your cheek. “Ich liebe dich.”

“Ich liebe dich auch,” you responded, letting her press a long and gentle kiss to your forehead.

Lena was true to her word in very sense of it. She had managed to finagle her way onto the same flight as you back to Germany – pulling both suitcases through the terminals and holding your hand for the whole duration of the flight. She walked next to you, never complaining at the snail’s pace that you crutched along the busy streets of Wolfsburg. She was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes after the surgery, the familiar grip of her warm hand helping you reorientate yourself in the land of the living. When you went from two crutches down to one, she was there, intertwining your fingers with hers as you tottered the length of the gym. When you finally got rid of both crutches, she was the first thing you walked to. It had been a surprise for her as she entered the gym, coming to collect you from your rehab as she finished her regular training session. You were alone in the gym – something that was very unusual considering the session had just finished and medics and trainers should be writing up notes all around you – but she watched with nervous anticipation as you gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher before you dropped your crutch and hobbled, very slowly, into her embrace. She had quietly cried into your shoulder as you pressed hundreds of kisses into her freshly washed hair. She was your personal cheerleader as she watched you run for the first time, laughing at Jule’s teasing comments from behind the camera as your progress was documented. When you finally ran on the grass, she had been like an excitable puppy – the unbridled delight she exhibited at your movements was infectious, lifting everyone’s spirits as the team watched on from further away.

Very tear you had shed; she had wiped away. Every harsh word and angry comment you threw her way; she had taken it in her stride. She had been your rock throughout the whole ordeal, and you don’t think you could ever repay her. You had surprised her with a fancy homecooked meal the day you told her about your return to full fitness. You had been given the all clear to rejoin team training that afternoon and you had been buzzing to tell her. It took everything in you not to spill as you arrived in the changing rooms. But instead, you had persuaded her, Jule and Sveindís to go spend the afternoon doing some light shopping, something that Lena had been missing out on recently due to your injury. You had rushed around the kitchen, cooking up a storm as you prepared all her favourite foods. You had just placed the finishing touches to the meal when she returned. You both had matching tears in your eyes when you told her the news. You were lucky, you where healing nicely and quicker than the average player. She had stood far too close to be considered work appropriate at training the next day, her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into her chest as you listened to the pre-training huddle. She had snapped you up as her partner for every drill, ignoring Alex’s, Svenja’s, and Jill’s comments about sharing you with the rest of the team. You couldn’t hide your excitement from her when you were cleared to return to the match day squad. You had bounded out of the medical offices and straight into the gym, squealing in pure joy as you approached her. She set the weights down quickly as you barrelled into her. She had kissed you with as much passion as possible when the words tumbled from your lips, sticking a middle finger up at the jeers from the rest of the team.

It was a cold evening in early March when you stepped back on the field. It was poetic justice really that you offered Lena the most perfect cross into the box for her volley into the back of the net. Barely 4 minutes on the pitch and you were back. It was like you had never been away. Each time you were made as a substitution you had an almost instant impact, creating chances as soon as you stepped onto the pitch. Your first start back had been one of the best experiences you’d had at Wolfsburg. The players were humming with enthusiasm for you, Lena’s arm wrapped around your shoulder until you had to walk out. Despite being subbed off at 70 minutes, you were still hot and sweaty at the end of the match, but you didn’t care as you jumped onto Lena, laughing as she staggered under your unexpected weight.

“Sie ist zurück,” Lynn cheered as Lena span around in circles, you clinging to her as your joint laughter filled the pitch.

“Ich bin so zurück!” You stuck your tongue out at Lynn jokingly.

Lena had been with you when you received the email from Sarina. If she wasn’t, she would have thought you were dying with the loudness of your scream when the England team email popped up in your inbox. She had wrapped you up in her strong embrace as your tears spilled over. You spent the day on the couch, watching Disney movies and definitely breaking your diet, your weight fully on her as you snuggled, both of you drifting in and out of sleep. It had been a rough 7 and a half months for you, filled with many, many dark days. But Lena had been there to hold you through it all, to guide you out of the tough times with gentle words and soft kisses filled with love and hope. You didn’t know if you could ever, ever repay her for everything she had done for you.

And then you were off to the World Cup.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3<3

[thegainingdesk]

Regret

Vidhur couldn't pull his eyes away from his reflection in the mirror. The face he saw was familiar, for the most part - the same floppy hair stylishly quaffed, the same dark, playful eyes, framed by long, almost girlish eyelashes, the same long, thin nose, the same perfect, straight, white teeth. He'd even gotten used to the small gut that had recently become a permanent fixture on his previously athletic frame. But he couldn't take his eyes off of his jawline.

Vid knew, logically, he'd get a double chin sooner or later, that his face would change as he put on weight. Seeing it though, in the bright, unforgiving lights of the Weatherspoons loos, was quite another matter.

He should, he knew, be excited. Another external sign of the weight he was putting on, another gainer milestone ticked off, another change to his growing body to wank to later. But god, didn't he used to be so handsome? His sharp jawline, his cheekbones - he didn't expect them to get buried so quickly. He told himself it was the bad lighting, puffiness from the alcohol, he'd had a salty lunch. But he knew, this was his face now. He’d seen it coming for a while, ignored the changes in favour of focussing on the soft curve forming at his middle.

“What you doing then?”

Vid was snapped out of his reverie as his mate Trent walked in. He shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing. Sorry, just thinking.”

“Fuuuck mate,” Trent groaned. “Can't be doing that. That's what the beer’s for. Here, you need to go get yourself another one if you're starting to do shit like thinking.”

Vid laughed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose you want one as well do you? Here, you fancy ordering some food?”

-

“Fuck!” Vidhur snapped, as he let go of the two sides of his waistband, and let his gut once again push them apart. He'd been struggling with them for five minutes now, sucked in his belly as far as it would go, tried to do them up lying down, tried yanking them suddenly, coaxing them slowly, but nothing would convince the two sides of the fabric to meet.

Vid looked down at the jeans lying crumpled on the floor. His boss would bollock him, he knew, if he turned up looking so casual. Maybe if he wore a jacket with them? No, his office was notorious for keeping up appearances, and besides, he didn't want to look like Jeremy Clarkson. He could stop off and buy some smart trousers before work? At that point, it was a choice between turning up on time wearing jeans or arriving properly dressed but late. Neither option seemed viable. He could hold his trousers together with a safety pin, maybe, and hide it with a belt? Not that he owned any safety pins, or realistically believed that worked outside of weight gain stories.

He sat down on his bed and sighed into his hands. He’d only bought a whole new wardrobe of 38-inch trousers and extra large shirts just over a month ago, and despite them becoming increasingly tight and pinching in the past couple of weeks, he’d managed to convince himself that they'd last him a little while at least. Unfortunately, he'd found his most recent growth particularly thrilling, and it had spurred him into some rather spectacular feats of gluttony, leading him into a rather vicious cycle of growth inspiring ever faster growth. Last Thursday he'd spent the whole day at work frantically itching his fleshy sides, only to see bright red lines there when he got undressed at home later that night. The revelation had pushed him into a weekend of unbridled gluttony, his uncomfortably swollen gut only adding to his sexual fervour and willing him on to stuff himself even more.

Vid didn't know whether to be thrilled with the effects of the weekend’s feasting, or horrified. He couldn't really need the next size of trousers up already, could he? But the evidence was right in front of him, straining around his waist, thighs and arse. This was getting out of control. Yes, he found fat guys hot, yes, he wanted to experience it for himself, but his little experiment was supposed to be twenty, maybe thirty pounds at most. Now here he was, 255 pounds, checking to see if Next had any 40-inch trousers in stock, and a couple of 42-inch just to be safe, wondering how long it would be until he needed new shirts as well. Was he even attracted to guys this big? He was bigger than even his university boyfriend Hamish had gotten all those years ago. No, he'd look at gym memberships this afternoon, this had all gone far enough.

Still though, he might as well get some McDonald’s breakfast while he was out. He didn't have to lose all the weight.

Vid picked up his phone. “Ellis? Yeah, hi, I'm really sorry, I'm going to have to work from home today. Yeah, a burst pipe, sorry.”

-

“Did you see his shirt today?” Vid heard Harriet-from-finance ask in a hushed tone.

“Stop!” came Liam-from-reception’s laughing reply. “I thought it was about the burst off of him!”

Vidhur stopped outside the break room and looked down at his shirt, which was notably straining around his gut. He had, he knew, outgrown 2XLs a while ago, but work had been so hectic that he'd not had time, or at least that's what he told himself. At weekends he was so preoccupied with stuffing himself, with pushing himself to beat personal challenges and records, and left in such a stupor afterwards, that he forgot everything else he needed to do. He had, at least, hoped that it wasn't quite so noticeable, and had thrown on a tie and cardigan in an effort to hide some of the worst of it.

He also, quietly, hoped that maybe this was as big as he'd ever get. That 2XL would be the biggest he'd ever see on a clothes tag. He knew that it made no sense, that his constant gorging guaranteed his continued growth, that he was already in dire need of some 3XLs, that every attempt he'd made to curb his growth had resulted in abject failure. Still though, he really hadn't wanted to get this big, honest.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Liam’s voice asked.

“You may in fact tell me nothing else,” Harriet’s voice replied.

“I actually used to fancy him,” Liam whispered.

Vid heard Harriet scream. “You did not! No, I'm sorry, you absolutely did not. Him? Seriously? He's so fat!”

“He genuinely used to be fit, before you started” Liam replied. “Like, properly fit. But then like a year ago he just suddenly got fat out of nowhere.”

Vid's stomach lurched. He knew that his weight gain was obvious, that everyone could see it, but he'd told himself that people still saw him as ‘chubby’, or ‘husky’, or ‘large’. To hear people call him fat, that some people were surprised he’d ever been anything else… Time, maybe, for him to stick to a diet. He took a deep breath in, sucked in his gut and walked into the break room.

“Oh hey guys, how are you?” he asked.

The pairs’ eyes widened and they both plastered on wide, fake smiles.

“Hey Viddy,” Liam drawled. “Oh, we’re good. We were just saying that Terry looks like he's put on some weight recently, weren't we Harriet?”

Harriet choked on her coffee and Vid saw her mouth “Stop it!” across the table at Liam.

“I don't know,” Vid replied. “He looks the same as ever to me.”

“Maybe,” Liam said, smiling. “I suppose, the thing is, I'm quite health conscious, so I notice these kinds of things.”

Vid saw Harriet slap Liam’s thigh and bite her lip. “Maybe,” Vid replied, seething. “Do you know if these donuts are for everyone?” he asked. “I've got a real sugar craving.”

“I think so,” Liam replied, before turning to Harriet and mouthing “Oh my god!” The two shook with silent laughter.

“Great,” Vid smiled. He took three.

-

“Oh my god, Terry! You look amazing!”

Vid looked up to see his co-worker Terry walk into the office after his holiday, with a broad smile on his face, an almost radioactive looking tan, and, most importantly, a significantly deflated gut. Terry held his arms out, showing off his baggy shirt and laughed. The office came to a standstill while everyone went over to congratulate him on his near-miraculous weight loss.

Vidhur declined to join the throng of people, instead looking down at the large gut filling his lap, and the small patch of sausage grease on his shirt from the first of that morning’s breakfast sandwiches. For a while now, he'd taken comfort in the fact that no matter how big he was getting, no matter how much weight he put on, as long as he stayed smaller than Terry, as long as he wasn't the fattest guy in the office, at least he was still in the realm of normality - a level of fat that an average member of the public could reach, without intentionally gorging themselves like Vid was doing. Okay, yes, Terry was thirty years older than Vidhur, and he'd put on his excess blubber over many years of sedentary desk work, happy marriage and living the good life, rather than Vid’s explosive weight gain of almost two hundred pounds over the last couple of years, but it remained a convenient and happy lie he could tell himself.

While Vid knew he’d been close to catching up with Terry anyway, he'd assumed that the effect of six weeks of all-you-can-eat buffets on Terry’s 58-year old metabolism would easily match the fifteen pounds Vid had put on while the older man was away. He felt ashamed. Sick. He'd blown himself up like a freak and now he was the fattest person he knew. Had he really ever meant to get this big? He'd just wanted to get a beer belly, hadn't he? Not this sack of lard he'd become.

“How did you do it Terry?” Sarah asked. Vid looked over. Maybe Terry was ill - some intestinal parasite caught in some distant country. Maybe, now he'd recovered, Terry was about to blow right back up, fatter than he'd ever been before, ready to take his heavyweight crown back from Vidhur.

“Well, I'd been thinking of dieting for a little while now,” Terry explained cheerfully. “I'd uh, well. I'd realised what I looked like. Just how fat I was.” Vid saw Terry look over at him, then look away again, a look of embarrassment on his face. Vid’s heart sank. Of course he was the huge monster that convinced Terry, the perpetually happy, lifelong fatty, just how disgusting his weight was.

“Well,” Terry continued, his face awkwardly turned away from where Vid was sat. “I thought the cruise would be awful for it, you know, all those buffets. But actually, they had these places you could go and they'd make me up these new salads every day, and I asked what was in them so I could make them at home - I've got them all written down. And the ship had this gym, and people there to help me. Three stone, I’ve lost so far.” The crowd around him gasped, ahh-ed and ooh-ed in astonishment at his feat. Terry waved them off. “Most of it was water weight, I lost most of it in the first couple of weeks.” Still, the admiration continued, and through the day Vid would cringe at each comment of congratulations. He noticed that a lot of people seemed to be avoiding him today - his size having been amplified by Terry’s sudden relative slimness.

“I hope you don't mind me saying Vid,” Terry said quietly later that day. “It's just, I know it's not easy, being so… well, you know.” Vid gave a short, uneasy smile in recognition that he did, in fact, know. “Well, I always thought I'd never be able to lose it. Told myself I was big boned, or that I had a slow metabolism, or that I just had too much of an appetite. But you know what Vid?” Vid could hear the pride in Terry's voice. “I just needed to decide to do it. It was easy in the end. Here, if I can do it, a young thing like you definitely can, eh?”

Vid smiled. He was terribly aware of the way he could feel the small action make his double chin crease even more. “Yeah, cheers Terry, I…” He paused and thought. “Maybe I have let it get too far.”

“If you ever need any healthy recipes or anyone to talk to, you know where I am, eh?” Terry smiled. “Here, can you believe I was almost twenty-four stone before my cruise? That was a wake-up call, I'll tell you that much.”

Vid whistled and raised his eyebrows. “Wow, yeah. That sure is… that sure is quite the number,” he said, giving a small chuckle. He turned back to his computer, knowing that he'd weighed in at over twenty-five stone that weekend. He had to lose some fucking weight.

-

Vid felt his whole body shake as he crashed to the floor. He wasn't sure if the crack of the chair breaking or the thwap of his soft body hitting the floor was louder, but he knew the combination was enough to bring the entire office crowding around his desk in a circle.

He lay on his side for a moment, dazed and winded as his co-workers murmured and pointed. He struggled into a crawling position, and did his best to ignore the roaring pain in his left hip and knee where he'd landed on them. In this position, his gut hung down far enough that it almost touched the ground. Vid's arms shook with the strain of holding up his weight, his heart pounded, and his breath was shallow and ragged.

“Come on, come on, help the man up,” Vid heard Terry's voice somewhere above him. “Here you go, easy now.” Vid felt a pair of hands grip his large flabby upper arms and strain to help him up. He did his best to not put too much weight onto the much smaller man as he staggered to his feet, but even so, he could see Terry struggle to stay upright. “You're okay, you're okay, there you are.” 

If Vid had enough breath, he'd have wanted to tell Terry that he wasn't a shell shock victim or a startled horse, and didn't need treating like one. Instead, he gasped out a breathless “thank you.”

“Come on, come on, someone get him a chair,” Terry barked at the gawping onlookers.

“Terry,” Sarah said out of the corner of her mouth. “Isn't the problem, you know, that the chairs don't support him?”

Vid wanted the ground to swallow him up. If he put on much more weight, perhaps it would. “I'll just go to the break room,” he said, refusing to meet anyone's eye.

“That's a good idea,” Terry said, still holding Vid’s arm and beginning to guide him. The crowd parted to allow Vid’s elephantine figure past, people pressing themselves into the desks on either side. “Let's get you sat on a nice comfy settee. Here, just let me…” He began pulling on Vid’s shirt, who looked down to see that it had ridden up so that most of Vid's soft, hanging gut was on show, with pale stretch marks almost glaring against his brown skin.

Behind Vid, he heard a creak and turned around to see Sarah probing the floor with her foot. “Yeah, I think the floorboard’s broken,” she sighed. Vid hastily helped Terry pull his shirt down, his pulse racing with shame.

Vid sat eating a plate of biscuits and a mug of “overly-sweet” tea (Terry's words; just the thing after a shock apparently. Vid didn't bother to tell him that it had less sugar than he usually put in it himself). He looked up as the door opened and his manager Ellis walked in, three years younger than Vid, and half his weight.

“HR says we’ve got to buy you a reinforced chair,” Ellis snapped. “Reasonable adjustments or some shit. If you ask me, the reasonable adjustment would be for you to lose some of that fucking blubber. Fucking hell man, I'm surprised the chair went before your heart did.”

The settlement made Vid very comfortable indeed.

-

Dr Wiltshire tutted as she looked at the charts in front of her. “If I'm being honest, you're lucky your blood pressure isn't even higher, considering your weight,” she said, not bothering to look up. She began to type something on her computer.

“Yeah, I get that I’ve-” Vid began.

“I can't believe it's taken you this long to come in,” the doctor interrupted. “Your records say that you last came in-,” she tapped at the screen and inhaled sharply, “four years ago. You've put on almost three-hundred pounds in that time, did you know that?”

“I guess I-”

She grabbed his forearm and pulled it towards herself. “I'm going to have to take some blood for a diabetes test,” she snapped. “If I can find a vein,” she added in a murmur.

Despite knowing his gut more than covered his crotch, Vid struggled against the erection he could feel forming. He'd stayed away from the doctors for years, knowing that he'd be judged for his explosive weight gain, and now he'd left it so long that it was so much worse than he could possibly imagine.

“We'll put you on some medication to lower your blood pressure, at a minimum,” Dr Wiltshire said once she'd taken some blood. “Its very likely that you’ll need to be on insulin as well, but we’ll talk about managing your diabetes at another appointment.”

“Well I thought we still had to test-”

“Yes, yes, we’ll need confirmation before we put you on ozempic. We can talk about that once we sort out your insulin,” she said.

“Well, I'm not sure I'd want to go on ozempic,” Vid said. “I've heard some bad things about it.”

Dr Wiltshire sighed. “Well, have you also heard some rather bad things about morbid obesity as well?”

Vid sat in silence the rest of the appointment, vowing to take on all of her advice, to make the changes to his diet she suggested, to start exercising more. He really had let all this get too far. He couldn't believe how badly he'd jeopardised his health for a fetish. Once he left, he realised he'd never even told her about the knee pain he'd made the appointment for.

-

“Go on,” Lee said, standing on the bed over Vid, stroking his thick erection. “Say it.”

“Please,” Vid said, as he strained towards his crotch.

“Please what?” Lee said. He raised a foot and pressed it lightly down on Vid's gut.

“Please let me cum,” Vid pleaded.

Lee’s face feigned bemusement. His hand continued pumping his cock. “You're allowed to cum,” he said. “You remember. We agreed that you needed to finish all-” he gestured towards the pile of fast food wrappers spilling over the side of the bed and onto the floor with his free hand “-of that food if you wanted to cum. And you did! Well done you.”

“But I can't…” Vid said.

“Sorry,” Lee said, bending slightly. At no point did his stroking slow. “What was that?”  His free hand pressed his ear forward.

“I can't make myself cum,” Vid said, his face flushing. “I can't reach my cock.”

Lee's hand sped up slightly. “Oh my!” he said, his face and voice in mock surprise. “Why wouldn't you be able to do that then?”

Vid was equal parts horny and genuinely embarrassed. “Because I'm too fat,” he said, collapsing back onto his pillows. “Because I can't reach around my fat gut, and even if I could, my dick is too small because it's been swallowed up by all my fat.”

Lee’s hand let go of his cock, and he let it hang, heavy and pulsing between his muscular thighs. “Why didn't you say?” he said, a smile spreading on his face. “Well then, you'll need me to do it for you I suppose then, won't you?” Vid nodded. “Sorry, what was that?” Lee asked. “I can’t see your gestures because they get swallowed by all the fucking fat.”

“Yes,” Vidhur said. He bit his lip.

“Well then. Eating all that food was the requirement for you being allowed to cum, not for me to do it for you,” Lee explained. “You'll have to have dessert if you want me to do that for you.” He shuffled forwards on the mattress, the motion made difficult by having to navigate around Vid’s sheer width. He lowered himself down until he was sat on Vid’s chest, the tip of his cock so close to Vid's lips that Vid could feel its warmth. “Do you want dessert?” Lee asked.

Vid answered by leaning forward and taking Lee's length into his mouth. He sucked hungrily, and Lee began to rock back and forth. Vid focussed on his technique, eager to please, gently stroking Lee’s balls and gripping his firm thighs. Lee moaned and gave a couple of shaking thrusts, jamming his cock into the back of Vid's throat, before Vid felt thick jizz pour down his throat. Lee pulled back and sighed contentedly while Vid coughed.

“Please,” Vid said as Lee climbed off of him. “Me now.”

Lee tutted and smiled. “Silly fatty!” he said. “That wasn't dessert. That was my cock.” He leant down and pulled a cake from below the bags he'd stashed beneath the bed. “No, this is dessert.”

Vid shook his head. “I'm too full. Please, I can't.”

Lee smiled. “I think you can. Big boy like you. And all that exercise you were doing trying to reach your little nub of a cock must have worked up quite an appetite.”

Vid closed his eyes and breathed heavily. His cock ached below the heavy pressure of his gut. “Give me the cake,” he said.

“I thought so,” Lee said. He didn't bother cutting the cake, just brought the whole thing to Vid's lips. Vid took huge bites, trying to eat it quick enough to trick his body into not noticing the huge amount of calories and sugar being forced into it. It didn't work. His stomach was straining and painful by the time he finished, and his head was spinning.

He was so dazed from the sugar that he could barely remember his aching cock, and was almost surprised when Lee's thick arm slid underneath his gut and began to work the exposed tip of his once impressive cock. Within thirty seconds, Vid yelled out and shook as he felt his crotch fill with semen.

“Same time next week?” Lee asked, wearing a thin pair of sweatpants and pulling on a muscle-tee, while Vid waddled back from the shower.

“Yeah. Money's on the bedside table,” Vid said.

Lee nodded. “Yeah, I got it, thanks.” He stayed sitting, unusual for him. “That was new, wasn't it?” he asked after a moment.

“What was?” Vid asked.

“Not being able to reach yourself,” Lee said. “You've done it before, but always pretending, part of play. That was different, wasn't it? You really couldn't?”

Vid shrugged. “For a while now. Too much in the way,” he explained.

“Right, right,” Lee said quietly. “You okay with that? I mean, I know this is your thing and everything. Shit, it's my thing too. But, you know, it's okay to not be okay with parts of it. To take a step back? I know how this can sort of run away with you. I used to think I didn't like guys over three-hundred, now that's my entire client-base.”

Vid nodded. “I'm okay with it. I've… well, I've definitely not been okay with it sometimes. But I've always kept going. Gotten okay with it, in the end.”

Lee nodded. “Okay. Good. Well, you’ve got my number if you need to talk, yeah? I won't even charge if I've got my clothes on,” he joked. “Or I could put you in touch with some other big guys? One of my exes is even bigger than you, might be good to talk to?”

“Yeah, that would be good thanks,” Vid said with a smile. “But, genuinely, I'm fine. I've got a good community going, I've come to terms with all the shit that comes along with this.”

Lee stood up. “Okay then,” he said. “No regrets?” he asked.

Vid shook his head. “No regrets.”

[ikigaisvt]

seventeen as tropes – vocal unit

starring: jeonghan, joshua, jihoon, dokyeom & seungkwan + gn!reader / (mention of mingyu in dk's) words count: 3.5k in total (between 400 - 800 each, expect seungkwan's 1.3k..,,.,..,, dont comment on that pls) content: fluff, non-idol!au warnings: everything is soft tbh? skinship (cheek kiss, kissing, holding hands), teasing, pining, rivalry, shitty team mates/friends, crying, lots of blushing lmao, very very very very sappy note: seventeen as tropes has been sitting in my drafts since 2022 and i'm FINALLY letting it out,, i hope everyone enjoy it! i decided to post it by units or else the post would get Too long (i already went off on this one lmao) don't worry hhu unit and pfu unit is already in the making hehe >.< pls don't come for me if some members have more words than others! inspiration isn't going to be the same for every tropes so i hope everyone can keep that mind! minors can interact with this fic but please don't follow or i'll hard block you. ignore any mistakes pls my brain is Dead rn,,, pls enjoy this piece of mine and don't forget to leave a like/reblog/comment! mwah mwah mwah good reading~

Jeonghan: Blind date

Jeonghan never loses bets and everyone in his friend group knows that which is why no one ever makes bets with him. He is just an extremely lucky person and he can always get his way out of any situation; expect when the person he made a bet with is Joshua – I taught him too well, he thinks to himself. It’s all because of a lost bet that he finds himself going on a blind date on this Thursday afternoon. That was the bet – to go on a blind date with someone the other picked. To say he was nervous was an understatement. All he’s hoping for is that Joshua didn’t prank him and sent like Seungkwan as his date. That would be awkward, he thinks as he makes his way quicker to the café.

As for you? Well, here you are, waiting for Joshua’s friend in this new café that opened in the neighbor. You don’t really know what went through your mind when you agreed to this blind date; something about Joshua’s words, probably. He can be a bit too convincing at times, something he apparently learned from this special friend – Jeonghan. You’ve never met the guy but oh have you heard countless stories about him. You know he’s one of Joshua’s closest friends so maybe you won’t get a relationship out of this but you will be able to talk about Joshua’s weird antics – in hopes Jeonghan isn’t worse, somehow, than your best friend.

You’re lost in your thoughts when a voice softly calls your name. You look up to see the most beautiful man ever and he quickly introduces himself as Jeonghan, as he sits down in front of you. You don’t really notice how Jeonghan looks at you, like you’re the most beautiful human he has ever seen or how a slight blush creeps up on his ears. And Jeonghan doesn’t notice the blush on your cheeks or how you slightly smile to yourself every time he tells you something. You two talk for hours; complaining about Joshua’s behavior – and you don’t let Jeonghan get away with turning him into a little devil, talking about how cute Sylvanian families are – he even shows you the ones he has, he rants about Legos, too, while he lets you tell him about that last book you read – something about a fae prince and a human falling in love. The staffs at the café breaks you both out of your conversation, letting you know they are closing in 10 minutes – it’s only when she comes around that you realize you are the only customers left. You quickly gather your stuffs, expecting to say goodbye to Jeonghan in front of the café but he naturally walks you back to your place. It’s when you’re leaned on your front door that he asks for your number – I thought he would never make a move, and he promises to see you soon before leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. It’s only when Jeonghan leaves you that he realizes luck was, once again, on his side.

Joshua: Coworkers

You’re very grateful for your coworkers at your new job. It’s only been a few months since you joined the finance team at this new company but everyone treats you like you have been part of the team for a long time. Everyone helps you out in new tasks, especially Joshua. Whenever you have to do something you aren’t used to, Joshua comes running to help you out and he cheers you up every time you have a hard time. You never really questioned how he acts as you always thought he was just being nice – as he is with anyone else. However, as your coworkers have known him longer than you, they know how you always get a special treatment from him; he makes you coffee when you start working and after lunch, he brings you your favorite chocolate, he prints out your folders for you and makes sure you always have your favorite pens working. His crush on you is known to everyone but you.

That all comes to light on a company dinner where Joshua special dots on you even in a restaurant far from work – he gets you food, fills up your plate and your glasses, lends you his jacket when you get cold and even offer to walk you home. All of these little attention gets him teased by your coworkers while you are still as oblivious as before. Joshua wears a profound blush on his ears all night but once again, you still don’t notice the pink tint of his ears (you honestly think it’s a cause of his drinking) and Joshua is entirely too happy about you being so clueless.

A few hours later he walks you home – as he promised. However, you surprise him by asking why everyone was teasing him back there. He stumbles on his words, the blush going to his cheeks until he finally admits it’s because he has a crush on you ever since you walked into the office on your first day. And now you’re the one with the blush, stuttering an answer – I like you too, but Joshua takes you by surprise by kissing you.

Jihoon: Acquaintances

You have known Jihoon since middle school; he was just always around in your group of friends and yet you didn’t know him at all. All you knew about him is that he liked music and as much as you thought he was nice, you never thought about making friends with him – if you didn’t all this time, why now? But when you’re in your first year of college, walking into your liberal arts class and you see only one familiar face – Jihoon’s, you walk up to him because it’s always good to know someone in every classes – to get notes or for future project.

So, you put on your best smile, sit down next to him – hope to god he remembers you – while starting to rant about how glad you are he’s here. However, all you’re met with is a blushing and stuttering Jihoon; “Sorry, I- uh- I forgot to water my dog- I mean, no- Forgot to give water to my dog! Bye!” before he runs out of the auditorium. It’s an understatement to say you are confused about his behavior, hoping he doesn’t secretly hate you – and is currently at the college’s administration to beg for a transfer. He’s cute, after all.

Next week, you are standing in front of the door of that same auditorium wondering if you’re going to find Jihoon in there. You don’t give yourself time to run away, pushing the door open and promising yourself to try and make a friend in this class today. You sit down, not trying to find Jihoon among the students. You didn’t even finish pulling out your laptop that the chair beside you is pushed back – Someone sat down next to me! – and you look to see who your new best friend is, only to see Jihoon looking at you, smiling. He greets you, asks you how your morning went before apologizing for last week – something about him being stressed. You let him know it’s alright – you can’t just hold grudges against him. And he’s cute today too. That’s how you two become friends after more than 10 years of being in each other’s life – or like background. And so, because Jihoon never feels like he apologizes enough, he does anything you ask of him for weeks: he buys you food, lends you his notes, makes you playlists but most importantly, when you ask to see his studio, he accepts.

On a Friday night, he picks you up and you two walk together to the studio, as you ask him about music – all these years, you always saw him with a guitar or humming songs and yet you never knew how it all started. And so, he answers all your questions, he talks, again and again, he tells you everything because it’s you. When you get to the studio, you walk around, touching every instrument, asking more questions while he sets up his computer. He goes out for a moment – letting you know you can play around on his computer – to pick up dinner at the fast food down the street. Of course, you take his offer, settling down on his chair and you open Youtube, play some songs before trying to make a simple track. It’s when you open his files to add one of his samples that you stumble across a file named after you; you can’t resist the urge to open it, finding songs after songs – Run to you, Darl+ing, Lean On Me, Adore U.

Jihoon comes in a few minutes after, the computer still shining with all these songs. And that’s when he knows – he knows he can’t hide it anymore, he knows all these years he spent at a distance from you can’t happen again, he knows he has to tell you. So, he tells you – he never talked this much in a night – he tells you he always liked you, he never forgot that first day he saw you in middle school, he explains how much he tried to not be in your life but he always felt himself be pulled in. He confesses that’s how he started music – because nothing but this could describe what he feels in his chest when you’re there. And you have tears in your eyes, you feel like your heart is going to implode from the love he gives you and you tell him; someway, somehow, your life has always felt empty when he was missing. When college came around you were scared you were never going to see him again. So, when you saw him, you knew this was destiny. You knew the world pulled strings for you two. (You spend the night at his studio, listening to every song he made for you while you two build a new world together.)

Dokyeom: Love at first sight/Meet cute

Dokyeom knows it; he’s in love. Okay, he hasn’t been in love before but he is pretty damn sure if love is something then it’s this; your chest tightens, you feel tingles in your stomach and you can’t stop looking at everything they do. That’s what he feels right now, when he sees you reading your book in that coffee shop.

He’s here with his best friend who tries so hard to get his attention but nothing can make him look away. I’m not being a weirdo, he reassures himself. You’re just so pretty, sitting there while reacting to that book – at one point, he saw tears pooling in your eyes – while you sip on your tea, your headphones on. You stay there, reading away while he watches you, then stops looking when he feels like you’ll notice him but he finds himself looking at you soon enough, never being able to really stop.

It's when you get up, making your way to the bathroom that he breaks from his daze – I need to get a grip. So, he focuses on his best friend’s rant, listening, actually answering his questions. But when he misses you, he looks back to your spot only to find it empty, only your book left behind. He gets up immediately and make his way to your spot, not even caring about Mingyu’s complaint. He picks up your book – Me Before You, he reads – and hurriedly makes his way out of the café. As he looks around, trying to find you, he notices you at the end of the street, a few meters away, waiting to cross the road. He runs up to you, not wanting to let you get away and as he gets to your level, he gets weirdly nervous; it’s not like he’s gonna make any move, right? He lightly taps your shoulder to get your attention. You turn around, a natural smile hanging on your lips as an answer. Dokyeom feels his heart beat faster right away and he knows it’s not even the nervousness, it’s you – Hi, uh- I- I was in that café, he starts as he points behind himself, I think that’s yours, he says as he holds out the book between the two of you. Immediately, you react, your face twisting in something between surprise and gratitude as you grab it and you never stop thanking him, again and again, asking him how you can repay him. Nothing, he answers, stars in his eyes knowing he will never be that close to the sun again, just- enjoy that book, okay? he finishes, turning around to go back to his best friend and his cappuccino. He walks slowly, almost as he expects you to catch up to him, almost as he wants you to – and he does. It’s when he pulls the door of the café open that he feels a light touch on his shoulder, his body reacting to you before his eyes can even see you. His lips pull up, his eyes shine again and he turns around, his heart reacting the same way again, before you extend a piece of paper between your bodies, stuttering; You forgot something too, the blush on your ears deepens, my number.

Seungkwan: Rivals

Seungkwan has always loved badminton; at this point, he talks about it so often, the whole school knows. Which you might be bitter about – only because you don’t like sharing something in common with him – but it’s only normal people do know about it; after all, he’s the captain of the boy’s badminton team. Now, what people of this school don’t know is that there is also a girl’s badminton team in the school – however, they are about to know. You have been leading the team so well, even though it has only been two years since it first got together, that you now get to share the court in your school’s sports hall to practice with your girls. Your coach – which is also the boy’s team, also lets you know that you’ll be meeting the other team every 2 weeks for friendly matches so the girls could improve in their skills.

It's the next day when you walk onto the court, already prepared for practice – you just need to take care of a few things as you are the team captain. Unfortunately, you stumble onto Seungkwan when you least expect it – you thought the team had classes at this time (not that you know his schedule, of course). Seungkwan doesn’t understand what you’re doing on his ground and he asks you to leave or else he will tell the coach – as if he had any kind of weight on her. Go tell the coach I’m here, go, you scoff at him, knowing she will only let him know what’s really going on. A few minutes later he comes back, the coach by his side, as he rolls his eyes at, probably, the thought of sharing anything with you.

And that’s how the rivalry between the two of you gets worse – if that was even possible. Your team meet every other day, practicing side by side and sharing laughter – expect you and Seungkwan. You both make your possible to annoy each other – you take the best spot first, you help the coach, you give advices to his team mates, you even go as far as to use him as something not to do on the field. On his side, he refuses to say your name, he keeps reprimanding your girls, he even says how even a toddler could play better than you and even go as far as to flirt with your team mate. Fortunately, even through all this fight with him, you and your girls train hard and your skills are rapidly improving. Time passes by so fast and it’s already time for your first match against the boys. You gather your team, let them know you believe in them and to not get intimidated by their playing – they are going to play hard and we need to hit back as much as them. It’s when Seungkwan sees you like this, so serious, so sure of yourself and so proud of your team, even when they lose points that he notices you in a different way. The way you burn with passion and yet how your eyes still shine with love when one of your team needs words of encouragement. He didn’t think he would ever feel like this but right now, you are distracting him from the match. And nothing, distract him from badminton.

The match is fierce, the room is burning with pride and want for the win; which the girls get. You cheer again and again, even the boys are congratulating your team – only Seungkwan doesn’t as he gathers his stuff and leaves first – which somehow, stings. You think it’s because his pride is hurt but it’s only because he can’t bear to see you anymore when he feels like this – heart fluttering, lips forming into a smile – at the sight of you.

The training keeps going after that win, the matches too; you keep annoying him and he does too, even though is comments are more helpful than anything; don’t do it like this, you’ll get hurt or even tell them to coordinate their moves, it will make them better – but you don’t notice, you only do the contrary of what he wants you to. The 5th match comes faster than any of you expect and you fight for the win with your team – you haven’t won these past 3 ones and it’s taking a toll on the team spirit – but the luck isn’t on your side when you sprain your ankle. The match stops as soon as you yelp, your team mates too surprised to react right away. Through the pain, you open your eyes when you feel a hand touch at your ankle delicately, trying to evaluate how hurt you are. You expect to see your coach but you meet a pair of brown worried eyes – Seungkwan. Are you hurt somewhere else? he asks softly, before turning around and telling everyone else to give you space, talk to me, please, he pleads, his big brown eyes fixed on your face. The after shock of the fall passes by as you stutter; why do you care? before asking for two of your team members to help to the infirmary – the coach letting everyone know the match is postponed, as you go through the door.

A few hours later you’re sat down on the cold bed, waiting for one of your friends to get out of class so she can drive you home – two weeks without walking and a month with no badminton, at least, the nurse told you earlier, but please go see a doctor, she finished before leaving you alone in the room to rest. You’re lost in your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door, thinking it’s your friend that’s here to bring you back home – finally. You’re more than surprised when you’re met with Seungkwan’s figure at the door as he asks you if he can come in, which you answer with a nod. He walks in and sats down on the chair at the end of the bed; what did she say? he asks, nervous at the thought of talking to you normally – and also, at the thought of not seeing you for practice anymore. 2 weeks with crutches and a month without playing, at best, you whisper, trying to fight back the tears. Oh- I’m so sorry, he says, sounding sincere. It’s not like you have anything to do with that, you sneer, wiping a tear off your cheek, do you? He sits back, now realizing how far your rivalry had gone for you to thin he could hurt you; no, of course not. I would never, he says seriously, as he sits down at the foot of your bed. Yeah, sorry, you apologize, your voice breaking in the middle, I thought that was what we did. Hurt each other. He takes in your pain which is much more than physical right now; your heart is on the verge of breaking and it’s mostly because of him; Not anymore. I don’t want to do that anymore; he starts as you lookconfused by his words. So, he explains; how his aversion for you came to be because you were a better captain, how people compared you two together, how some of his old team mates wished to have you instead of him. How he found himself to be as admirative of you as people are, how he finally understood everyone when he saw you play, how badminton was made for you, the same way you were for him. How these feelings bloomed in a place he thought was burned by the spite of others. How he wishes he could take everything back but since he can’t how he hopes you can give him a chance to do better, in the future. So, you do; you hold his hand as you both stay silent; he starts to come up with way to fix your broken heart and you, coming up with a plan to keep the flowers blooming even in winter. Maybe love is the way to it all.

thank you so much for reading! leave me a like/reblog/comment if you want and you'll have my unconditional love forever 🫶

[laylajeffany]

Their Own Kind of Pride | Wenclair Microfic

Sitting in an airport experiencing an act of homophobia because Delta has delayed my flight FIVE TIMES and it's the only thing keeping me from kissing my girlfriend for the first time in seven weeks. DURING PRIDE MONTH? Actually - I've got really complicated feelings on that - so here's a 2.5k microfic that is set in the Murder, She Woe universe about six months into Wednesday and Enid's move to Grisly Cove. How I wrote this in the most overstimulating environment after an hour at the airport bar - I don't know. A pride miracle I guess.

Rated: G TW: Talk about complicated feelings surrounding pride

“Should we order a rainbow flag?”

Wednesday stared at her wife with unblinking eyes, trying to determine if she was serious or not. Enid cringed, glancing to the side. “I mean…it’s fine, we don’t have to do that!”

One – the clashing colors, two the display of pride…oh. Was that more of the problem, other than the colors? Wednesday took a brief look inward as she tried to determine which was more of a reflection of her feeling about such a flag. Generally – she was against any sort of show of patriotism or allegiance. She didn’t need anyone to know where she stood on anything by looks alone.

Wednesday tilted her head, wanting more information before outright rejecting Enid. “Tell me what your thoughts are in wanting to hang a flag that represents the LGBTQIA+ community in front of our home.”

“Um…we’re gay?” Enid offered, then let out a giggle. “And June is like – somehow, only three days away. This year is slipping between my fingers, I swear – if I had like, fully realized summer was this close, I would have been making very different choices in my workout routine -”

“Say a negative comment about your body and I’m going to take you to the bedroom and write poetry over every part. And not in the kinky way you want,” Wednesday said, pulling a dip pen out of seemingly nowhere. Enid pouted. “You have a body, and you’re going to put a bikini on it – therefore, you have a bikini body. I want to see you in your little triangles, barely covering you with your little silly strings holding them together. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

Enid flushed.

“Back to the topic at hand,” Wednesday glanced up from the piece of steak she had been neatly slicing into which she’d seared to rare perfection for her wife – medium-well for herself. “Why would you want to display a pride flag?”

“It feels like the right thing to do,” Enid replied as she looked to the side. “I mean…we’ve never…done any pride stuff, together. I obviously never dated any girls before you – so, it’s not like I did any on my own. Now that we finally have our own place, I thought maybe…but we don’t have to. For real, I just – was…putting it into the universe.”

Wednesday bit her lip. Pride in the strange, touristy-town they’d moved into six months prior was about to be A Big Deal. She had seen the advertisements, on her occasional trip into town – and Enid was already working overtime at the establishment she’d secured a gig in, which was absolutely rainbow-inspired. Sighing, she wondered, “Are you anticipating participating in any of the downtown events?”

“I mean…I don’t know – when I say that I just realized it was about to be June, I’m totally not just saying that.” Enid sighed, trying not to inhale her food as she spoke. Wednesday twitched – she always waited too long to eat…especially so close to a full moon…she wished her wife would take better care of herself –

“Are you expected to participate in the parade, of all things, with your workplace?” Wednesday wondered, unable to keep a disgusted sort of grimace off her face.

Enid rolled her eyes. “We’re not required to…but…” She bit her lip. “I kind of…I kind of want to.”

“You already work at a gay bar, Enid.” Wednesday could barely comprehend what was going on during their dinner hour (four o’clock in the afternoon, that Thursday – Enid had to work). “Do you want to be made a spectacle of?”

“Well – that’s…kind of what I’m hoping, generally, Wednesday – you know I love it there, you know I want to…maybe be in the show someday, I don’t know how, I mean…it’s not like I have an act, but…yeah, I’d like to be in the parade with my work friends.”

Friends…right. Enid had made a host of those.

“Okay,” Wednesday said and then could’ve practically gulped as she wondered, “Do you…want me to…watch?”

Enid managed to smile again and shook her head. “No, you don’t have to take yourself to a parade, Wednesday. Though it does feel like the optimal time for someone to be unsuspectingly pick-pocketed. Maybe you could go and observe petty crime and get some inspiration for your novel.”

“I have plenty of inspiration,” She said, somehow – avoiding a massive subject.

“So, I’ll take it – that’s a ‘you do you’ on the parade, and a hard ‘no’ on the flag?” Enid asked after a full minute of quiet.

“Enid,” Wednesday placed her knife and fork down, deciding she was going to make a very bold decision in that moment. “I have never felt like I belonged in any community. This community – you and I…maybe with the addition of some of our old outcast friends from school…that’s all the community I’ve ever needed.” Enid nodded her head – going along with whatever Wednesday wanted…

…but that was not what Wednesday wanted.

“I said I…not we,” She cautioned, leaning forward a little bit, wishing she hadn’t tossed her hair in braids that morning – so she’d have looked more…mature, when delivering such an assured monologue. “You have always enjoyed belonging. It’s always been important to you to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself.” Enid swallowed and looked to the side – her eyes were visibly misting over. Hardly able to stand it, Wednesday reached for her hand. “That is not a bad thing. That is a normal thing. That is what people are supposed to want – to be part of life with other people.” Wednesday rolled her eyes a little, squeezing her hand instead of withdrawing her own like she wanted to. “I wish I wanted to be part of life with other people,” She said in almost a whisper. “Just because I need to hide in the shadows doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let the sun shine on you. If you want to order a rainbow flag, we will hang it on the front porch. Perhaps we should get two – to hang one from the back for the boats that enjoy riding around the cape to see as well.”

Enid blinked out twin tears that she could clearly not avoid. Wednesday’s internal guilt meter (that only ever activated when Enid was involved) intensified. “Enid,” She sternly called for her to explain when a full minute of silence passed. Her wife almost never stopped talking – and she was going to choose then to be quiet? “What are you thinking?”

“Just…that…I’m…really happy, that you think it would be okay to hang that flag.”

Defying her body’s urge to drop her shoulders in a most dramatic sigh, Wednesday gave a curt nod. She waited, for more…and when none came, she decided to finish cutting her steak.

They ate in not uncomfortable quiet, but…there was obviously more to say. As Wednesday took Enid’s plate upon finishing, she felt her grip her wrist. “Um…I’m going to…I need…” Enid let out a near whimper. “Can we go talk, for a minute?”

Wednesday swallowed a lump in her throat that was far from unexpected, though that didn’t mean she could tolerate it. She made sure her face didn’t betray her and stiffly followed Enid to the living room, where their new-ish sofa looked way too comfortable for the discomfort that Wednesday had swirling in her gut.

She sat on the edge of an ottoman and Enid paced for a bit in front of her, clearly working up nerve and courage. After so much time passed that Wednesday thought she was going to get motion sick from watching her turn and pace and turn and pace, Wednesday gripped her wrist, forcing Enid to suck in a breath. “Don’t be afraid to tell me what’s on your mind. I want to hear it. Even if I disagree – I’m not going to rebuke you, Enid.”

Enid collapsed into a puddle of tears beside her. Fully unsure why, Wednesday tapped into the part of her brain that was responsible for demonstrating her very limited scope of affection, almost all of which was reserved for her wife. Curling an arm around her and tucking her close, she let Enid get her shirt collar all wet as she unexpectedly heaved another sob. Wednesday almost felt a flutter of fear in her chest as she waited for Enid to clam enough to express what the tears were all about.

It was some time – a long time. Whatever Enid had been holding in, related to that damn rainbow flag…she’d been holding it in for a long time.

Finally, after her heart was about to hammer right out of her chest in anticipation of what her wife would say, Wednesday tried not to look relieved when she started speaking.

“When my mother rejected me…” Enid sniffed. “I knew – it wasn’t…just because of this. It was just…maybe…” She shivered – her face so blotchy and red, Wednesday really…just – surprisingly, almost wanted to take her to bed and…cuddle and hug her until it cleared.

Enid tried talking again, but her words got stuck in her throat. She practically choked as she tried to speak. “Enid, come here,” Wednesday insisted, scooting back into the corner of the sofa and opening her arms. Enid nodded, crawling onto the cushions and into them, the sigh she released like a deflating balloon. Wednesday rubbed a hand up and down her back, kissing her temple three times. Enid let out a near coo, then, nuzzling her face into Wednesday’s neck. “Do you want me to call your jerk of a boss?” She whispered, “Tell him you’re not well?”

“No,” She muttered. “I want to go to work. I like work. I just…want to tell you about why this is so important to me, first, okay? And – we can totally cuddle until then, I’ll find a drag queen to coverup any hives left on my face when I get there.”

Rubbing her back again, Wednesday nodded, kissing her one last time. Enid shifted, so she could look up at her, practically cradled in her hug. “Finding out that I loved you was the nail in the coffin, for my relationship with my mom, for my standing in my old pack. You know that.” Wednesday tried not to think about it – that she was the ultimate reason that Enid’s mother had cast her only daughter aside… “For so long…I felt like…this part of me, the…interested in girls part of me was…was…like a curse, almost. There wasn’t a single thing I’d ever done to meet my mom’s expectations – and then…I went and defied gender norms and expectations, too.”

Wanting to rebuttal, but holding her tongue, Wednesday let Enid finish. “And…I don’t know – I never felt, like…ashamed or anything, because I am attracted to women, because I love you – I literally would tell anyone that we’re married. Sometimes against your will,” Enid giggled a little, obviously thinking back to their honeymoon when she managed to get them free drinks everywhere they went for her inability to keep the news to herself. “But…I’ve also never celebrated it. I’ve never taken the time to think about the fact that – hey, a lot of people struggled for us to be able to legally do this – to be together, to be in love – that…so many people worked for so long to make marriages like ours legal. And there’s so much more to it – I’m learning so much at my new job…but – Wednesday, I think…I think I’m just…I’m proud of myself, for the first time, in this way.”

Nodding, Wednesday was proud of her for being proud of herself. She might not share the sentiment - but, she could celebrate her wife.

“I want to walk in the parade, because I’m not ashamed of who I am and who I love. But I also don’t want you to feel like – you are, because you’re not interested in participating? I don’t know, now this all feels complicated and kind of icky…”

Cupping her cheek, Wednesday tilted her own head. “Look at me, dead in the eye. Not for one single second do I feel…icky,” She parroted her own word back to her, “Because you want to march in a gay pride parade. I don’t feel embarrassed, and I don’t feel shame.”

Enid bit her lip, looking conflicted. “But…I know it’s hard – can you tell me what do you feel about it, Wednesday?”

She gave a genuine shrug. “I don’t feel anything about it. If it will make you happy, if this is how you want to express yourself, then I want you to do it!” She almost shouted the ending and Enid blinked a few times in apparent surprise at the tone she was using. “I just…I just…”

Enid took a turn to put a hand on her face, clearly making sure her eyes didn’t wander to the side, but stayed locked on hers. “Tell me.”

“I…don’t know, Enid. You know that rainbows are never going to be my thing. There is just not a universe where I can put a rainbow flag in my fist and go walking down the street with it. That’s not me. I don’t experience pride in that way.”

“But…you are proud, aren’t you?”

“I’m proud of myself,” Wednesday declared, “For opening myself up to love, to the person who deserves love more than anyone else I have ever known.”

At that, Enid’s eyes welled up again.

“I’m not interested in a parade. I’m indifferent to a flag on the house. But I am proud, every time I walk out of the door with you – Enid,” She almost smiled. “I’m proud of being behind these doors with you. I’m proud of everything that happens on this couch – I’m proud of being able to snuggle with you like this, and all the things that I’ve allowed myself to engage in in our bedroom…Enid,” She did smile then. “I do have pride. It might not be the corporate, parade-going, deals-at-the-bar while Lady BlahBlah or whoever plays way too loud kind of pride. But – I’m proud of myself, for being open to love with you.”

Enid attacked her in a kiss as she straddled her suddenly, then held onto her so tight – it was almost difficult to breathe. Wednesday gripped her just as tightly back, hoping that she’d successfully conveyed what she needed to.

When Enid pulled back for another kiss, much sweeter that time, and rubbed a hand along her collar bone, she let out a breath of relief. They’d both understood one another, keenly. They both had pride, in their own way. “Enid, I will come to the parade to watch you. So long as you don’t expect me to wave a flag or dance. But when it’s over, I’ll be there to kiss you, and tell you about how I disassociated a vivid scene for my book about a horrible act taking place at such a function.”

Giving a full laugh and a very proud smile, Enid kissed the side of her cheek. “Maybe we just hang one flag on the house instead of two. That might be overkill.”

“One flag sounds acceptable,” Wednesday agreed, squeezing her hip – thinking…if Enid really worked her over – perhaps she’d even show up for a single night in June at her club…a Tuesday though - not a weekend, and not during that ridiculous show. The only way she’d ever drag herself to such an event would be if Enid were the shining star of it – and since she didn’t even have an act, Wednesday was sure, she’d never find herself spending more time at the club than she wanted to.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Happy Thursday y'all! It's been a while since I gave an update on the Dancing with the Stars Dieter fic, Closed Position.

As mentioned before, I do not plan to fully dive into this fic and start posting until Destiny & Deliverance has been completed. However, there is only one chapter and the epilogue left (I'm not ready). Since, it's not that far off...I have started working on my outline for dancing Dieter. More below the cut. 👇

I have it planned out fairly well, so I am sharing my chapter list with you today. This could change slightly when I start digging in, but this is the format I'm going with:

Prologue

Introductions

Week 1 - Foxtrot

Week 2 - Cha Cha

Week 3 - Jive

Week 4 - Rumba

Week 5 - Argentine Tango

Week 6 - Paso Doble

Week 7 - Jazz

Week 8 - Viennese Waltz

Week 9 - Quickstep

Week 10 - Samba

Week 11 - Finale

Epilogue

I've been doing a ton of homework on the show, so I plan to incorporate a lot of crazy behind the scenes stuff that actually happens and makes for an entertaining plot. Anyone down for a weekly spray tan? No? Dieter isn't a fan either.

This fic will not be anywhere near as angsty as D & D. However, some tough topics are mentioned, mostly relating to Kat's (OFC) asshole ex who will be very present as another professional dancer on the show. Then of course, Dieter's issues with drugs and alcohol are discussed too. He will be sober in this fic, but early on in his journey. Still very much our loveable, hot mess trash panda though.

I would like to do a lot more extras with this fic. I plan to share some inspiration videos for each chapter so you will have a visual of the dances. I think it will help you understand what ultimately causes Dieter and Kat to fall for each other. If nothing else, the visuals are just hot AF.

There will be a lot of Latin dances, just because we have to show off Dieter's loose hips. You know there are going to be jokes about that. I feel like it's a good excuse to take Dieter's button allergy up a few notches too. 😏 Here is a sexy little Rumba video to get us started. This dance may or may not be the one that gets them in trouble...🤐

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo was looking to change his bad boy image and clean up his act after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dance partner to one of Hollywood’s biggest stars to go the same as it had for the past nine seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

If you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, feel free to comment below or shoot me a message and I will get you added.

Tagging all my usuals. If this isn't a fic you would like to be tagged on, let me know and I will remove you. 😉

@rhoorl @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @secretelephanttattoo @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @undercoverpena @sin-djarin @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @myloveistoolittle @annieispunk @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @copperhalfcent

[cirqueduroyale]

Happy Webcomic Day!

I’m Brittany G. (@atomicbritt), a black, autistic, aroace graphic designer/other stuff by day and comic robot by night.

Cirque Royale, a queer slice-of-life/fantasy/humor/drama comic about the newest royal clown family and what their circus troupe gets up to when the show is over.

Each episode is a different short story about the cast and crew of the Royal Circus. It started in 2016 with traditional comic pages, but now it’s more of a scrolling hybrid, since I got more busy with work.

The comic updates on Thursdays. Wednesdays if an update is long or I decide to update two pages that week.

Rating: PG or PG-13 (I'm not sure anymore)

Warnings: Puns, clowns, PTSD, fantasy racism, implied domestic abuse, implied eating disorder, ableism, parental death, toxic parents

Themes: Family, friendship, trauma, overcoming societal/familial expectations

Inspired by: Retro circus aesthetic, classic cartoons, Monster High, NBC’s Telenovela, Adventure Time, The Simpsons, Star vs The Forces of Evil, 30 Rock, The Addams Family, Geek Love

Where to read: Website | Webtoon | Tapas  | GlobalComix | Links List 

Other links: Ko-Fi | My Art Blog I Cirque Development blog | BlueSky | TV Tropes

[raayllum]

Tentatively spanning between Sunday October 29th and Saturday November 4th, "Snake Boi" Callum Week (for lack of a better term) is a week dedicated to our baby boy's 'dark side' so to speak. Do you enjoy Callum's temper, his fiercely protective nature, his obsessive tendencies with magic, or the potential dark path stretching out ahead of him? Do you want to explore his increasingly angsty interiority, or want him to angrily punch more people in the face? Then this is the week for you!

Side note: since one of the core components (usually) of this kind of focus is an emphasis on Callum's selective loyalty to Ezran and Rayla above anyone else, Rayllum and the Broyals are the expected most likely dynamics to focus on. However, 'outsider' pov or examination of Callum's bonds with other characters is more than welcome, as is whump or anything else (so long as it is properly tagged/rated).

Sunday October 29th: Choices / Consequences

Monday October 30th: Power / Politics

Tuesday October 31st: Mirrors (literal or metaphorical) / Magic

Wednesday November 1st: However Dangerous, However Vile / I Would Do anything For You

Thursday November 2nd: Temper / Ruthlessness

Friday November 3rd: More than anyone or anything / Inner circle

Saturday November 4th: Destiny / Chains

As always prompts are just suggestions / guidelines (feel free to do something indirectly inspired or not inspired at all from these), all forms of creation - fic, meta, playlists, etc., - are readily encouraged, and there's no limit on when 'late' things are 'accepted'. We're here, unlike our boy, to have a good time, tag your stuff accordingly (especially if it veers into possibly triggering territory imagery or content wise) and have fun with all the angst and/or hurt-comfort your heart can ask for! Just remember:

[remimibanana]

A bit about Shattered!

I wrote a story about Robin and Sunday!

It's about what may have happened during their past, their present and what the reality during and after the never ending dream held for them.

You can find it here!

I wanted to write a bit about my thought process behind writing this, since I have a lot to say and it might interest some people! I also didn’t want to make my notes section way too long and make it hard to leave a comment or kudos.

All under the cut!

Conception

I started writing this story after 2.2 released, but I didn’t finish it until now. It took me so long but it’s finally here! 30k wasn't the amount I expecting but I am all for it.

It originally was meant to be a love letter to 2.2, but it soon became a love letter to Penacony as a whole since there’s spoilers for everything. I had to rewatch the quests often to make sure I didn’t mess up the lore.

I remember I spent a whole day on the 2.2 quest, a Thursday where I sat down on my phone reading through the dialogue and playing the game while wondering when it was going to actually end at one point.

It was way longer than I expected, but I cried by the end of it all while pacing around the kitchen like a crazy person. Seeing Robin jump for Sunday as he fell, I couldn’t help but tear up. It made me love Robin and Sunday way more than I did before!

It was an incredible quest. It was worth all the hours I poured into it, thanking everything that no one was home when I let out noises and screams like a maniac in the kitchen out of all places. I'm a very expressive person.

I also jumped like a maniac when Acheron said Mei, or Yayi since I play with the CN dub! I love Honkai Impact 3rd a lot, if you didn’t know. I mean, everyone knew beforehand but it felt super validating for it to be explicitly said.

I knew immediately that I had to write something for this wonderful story. I’m always inspired to write after a quest, especially one like this. Shaoji cooked with Penacony and he needs to come back and write more for Star Rail.

I had to write Robin and Sunday, because there was so much I could write regarding these two doomed siblings. I did alternating point of views with both of them, as I wanted to tell both their stories.

I also knew that I wanted angst to the max, especially after hearing what the heck Robin went through and the fact that the game barely touched on anything in her point of view. This is the same case with Sunday.

I’m sorry for the pain I have inflicted on you all! I will write a happy story at some point, I promise you. Then again, I've said this before and I still manage to write angst…

There wasn’t much planning for this, aside from a few things from the quest that I wanted to write into it and use…and yet it looks like I’ve meticulously planned it all out doesn’t it?

I amaze myself sometimes. I quite literally surprised myself actually at times, I made stuff connect and I didn’t mean to really. Is this what they call being a genius?

Let’s take it from the top!

The Past

The first thing I knew I wanted to write was how Robin was shot in the neck.

That sounds terrible, damn. I don’t know how else to word it, I’m sorry!

It was mentioned by Sunday so briefly, and then never brought up again by anyone which is insane to me like what do you mean that Robin was shot in the neck in a war she went into?!

We got to see how he was informed by the Dreammaster about it after showing Robin’s letter and how he was going to pack his bags immediately for Kasbelina-VIII but that was honestly it. This gave me the perfect base to write my rendition of how it all happened.

I structured this part by writing out two letters, the one that Robin sent to Sunday and one that Sunday would have written back if he received it first. I then wrote the actual happenings underneath each paragraph that contradict the letters.

My goal was to make this as interesting as I could since it’s the first thing you read in my story. I needed to hook you all in, and keep you wanting to read on until the end.

There is a lot of story building here, describing the conditions of Kasbelina-VIII and some of the messed up stuff that is happening there. It’s rather realistic, because I wanted it to be. If I was going to talk about a war, I would do so properly without downplaying anything.

I first found it strange that Sunday didn’t know about the war at all. I figured, wouldn’t a war be at least broadcasted by the largest government body, the IPC themselves?

That’s when the idea that the IPC was intentionally covering it all up came to me. It seemed like the most logical explanation, and a very interesting one that I could build upon.

Despite Robin’s letter being in her point of view, we see another being shown. The soldiers who she was staying with this whole time, their thoughts regarding the war and Robin herself.

I had to make a reason as to why she would be shot, because she had to be right in the middle of the battlefield for that to happen. If the IPC was covering everything up, they would also stop supporting the poor planet.

These poor soldiers she’s staying with had no new supplies delivered to for weeks, and yet they still gave what they had left to her, showing that there is still kindness in such a horrific situation.

Based of what I could see, Robin wouldn’t let them suffer like this when she learnt about the supply issue by what I assume was on accident generally. I wanted to give the soldiers some character, so I made them lie to her for her sake about how long they didn’t have supplies for.

We have a lot of lying mentioned in this story, since it’s the main premise for both Sunday and Robin. They both lied to each other for the other’s sake, thinking that it was the right thing to do. Lies after lies pile up, and we see what happened when they all came falling down.

I've never been shot before (god forbid) but I tried to imagine how it might have felt for Robin, the way it would make her feel. It did hurt to write this part, the way she still tried to deliver those supplies...the way she belittled herself for lying...

I wanted to make you all suffer, pretty much. That also sounds terrible.

Now, we go into Xipe and THEIR role. The Dreammaster mentioned how Harmony had blessed her by missing her vital arteries, so I made THEM interfere despite the fact THEY usually only observe and watch everything unfold.

THEY said that the bullet was not meant to hit her, but it still did for some reason that eluded them. This was such a major foreshadowing point that doesn't make much sense until later on, I am such a genius for this!

The same case when it is mentioned that someone could try to calculate their reasonings by forsaking their humanity, I was intentionally foreshadowing what Sunday does later on when he tried to.

You seriously would think I planned all this but it sort of came out this way.

Sunday's letter on the other hand, is much more of a character study of himself if anything. I wanted to explore how he would feel about all this, the way he would handle such a situation of his beloved sister being shot.

We know that Sunday uses puppets, but it's never stated why or how he had them in the first place. We can also see how he can manipulate them, making them act out scenes and characters during the time when we are stuck running through those Memory Zones before his boss fight, which I took and built upon the idea.

Sunday is a very complex character, so I made him a little mentally unstable when concerning his sister. The way he lashed out at his puppets, destroying them all over and over while making up scenarios of her shooting in order to cope. He even thinks that a puppet is Robin for a second.

If this is out of character or not, I don’t know. I wanted to give him more character than we see in the actual story, and naturally my thoughts went to this. It is mentioned how much he loves Robin (as a sister obviously), and so I wanted to see how far he would go for his only family left.

I took the concept of Harmony and expanded on it. We can see that Harmony can alter the mind's state, so why not make it so they can control others by altering their thoughts? I often like adding additional powers for the plot that still make sense in the realm of the game.

For Robin, it was mostly subconsciously done. For Sunday, he does it intentionally for his own reasons. Both use Harmony to alter minds without asking if the intended victim wanted it, making them both in the wrong.

We have these whispers present, the choir above that Sunday can hear because of how attuned he is to Harmony, alongside Robin that he rejects often. I don't think this is a thing in game, but I thought it would make everything so much more intriguing!

His distrust in Harmony grows and the rejection started from the first seed of doubt planted by Mr Gopher Wood. I imagine that his manipulation started young, slowly introducing the disharmony into Sunday's ideals.

This whole section quite literally foreshadows the rest of the story, it's great.

The Present

The major part of this story is when Robin is in Sunday's consciousness.

We have no idea what happened to her there, only that they were “put” to sleep. In Ena’s Dream, apparently it is called Tuning that she went through alongside Welt Yang by Sunday, who mentioned that nothing too bad happened to him there.

Then again, apparently it was Jing Yuan who saved Welt from Sunday’s subconscious???? I don’t really know how that works but point is, I had a lot of playing ground for what happens to Robin in there.

Here, we are introduced to the idea of Memory Zones (every time I read this, I think of Mystery Zones from Pokémon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum), areas of Sunday’s subconscious that he made to house his manifestations.

The first zone that Robin enters is incomplete. I imagine that Sunday never prepared for the possibility that Robin would ever enter his mind, so she was thrown into a zone that was quickly conjured up to keep her.

Since Robin too is attuned to Harmony, she can affect the Memory Zone to an extent. The colours you see on the ground is from her own power, as you can tell by the fact it originally came from her every single time it is mentioned.

As to why this is happening, I think it’s more of a subconscious thing once again. Robin doesn’t truly mean to use Harmony here while stuck in a random zone.

She can also hear the whispers, although they are trying to help her unlike Sunday’s ones. This is clearly a major foreshadowing point that you realise later on that these aren’t the same whispers.

We see the Charmony Dove from their childhood flying around and giving Robin a bit of trouble. This was definitely Sunday’s doing, who finally decided what he would do with her.

I wanted Robin to sing here because I thought that it was the best way to calm down the little bird, and symbolize how important her singing is to her and the world around her.

As she keeps saying, it’s the only thing she is good for at the end.

It was Sunday who made the bird fly away like a puppet with feathers, and Robin ran after it. I feel like she’s very selfless, to the point that she would run into a trap knowingly.

A zone just for her.

I knew I wanted to use that story with the Charmony Dove since it’s pretty prominent in 2.2. The Memory Zone she runs into is a replica of the bedroom the siblings stayed in, with the Charmony Dove now in the cage they kept it in.

This bird isn’t the same one as before as you can tell, since this whole zone is Sunday’s memory of how he released the small bird to its death. Robin helps it to fly, but it only shattered its wings when it fell as Sunday explained.

That’s when she learnt that this was all her fault, and we learn why that bullet that wasn’t meant to hit her did back then.

It was karma. They do say that karma’s a bitch, and for Robin, it took form with that bullet. It sounds like I’m quoting Jojo Siwa but I’m not, I swear ;;

Point is, I AM A GENIUS FOR THIS.

I didn’t intent for it but I wrote down that sentence “Perhaps, Robin was shot in the neck because of what she did” and my brain connected the dots immediately with what I wrote with Xipe earlier.

Sunday finally makes an appearance in person. This whole sequence is interesting because we have him hurting Robin, as if she was one of his puppets. I intentionally made it this strange, with Sunday mentioning after that the zone fell out of his control later on.

I described how his arms were out like an overseer, that’s a very obvious reference to Otto Apocalypse from Honkai Impact 3rd.

The lullaby part is from 2.3, where Robin mentioned how Sunday used to sing a lullaby to her when she was restless at night. I thought it would the perfect final blow.

It isn’t Robin in that zone. But it is at the same time. It’s interesting, isn’t it? Would it be too farfetched to say that it was Robin's consciousness who transferred into that puppet? Who knows.

Robin “wakes up” from that Memory Zone, completely nauseous and disoriented from the sheer amount of Harmony, or Order she was subjected to. We saw this with that doctor earlier with only a small amount of it used.

It was too much for her to handle. It was only when Sunday appears again to cut through it all, does she snap out of it out of his sheer grace. What a kind person he is.

We learn that Robin is in a cage. This is the same cage we see in her splash art! I like to try to integrate them into my stories, like I did for one of my previous stories with Black Swan’s one!

The two siblings share a conversation that doesn’t end well, with him leaving her. It was the only logical outcome for our doomed siblings here. I feel bad for them.

The cage breaking and Robin singing is also based on her splash art, as I needed a way for her to escape the cage that made sense to her and the story. I think it signifies how important her singing is to her and how Harmony interacts when she does.

We see Robin running around all the various Memory Zones Sunday has, noting how there are many puppets in them. I was alluding to when we go through those Memory Zones in the Grand Theater where Sunday tells us some stories using his puppets.

In one of them…we find her companion that was forced to sleep alongside her.

WELT YANG IS HERE.

I just wanted to write him since he is one of my favourite characters and I had my chance to finally in a story!

You can probably tell how much I enjoyed writing him based on how long his part is. If you have played Honkai Impact 3rd, or know Welt’s backstory, this is my little treat for you. If Hoyo won't make him do things, I WILL.

I made Welt finally use his powers. He’s the Herrscher of Reason, he has the freaking Star of Eden (the 9th Divine Key itself), AND HE BARELY DOES ANYTHING PLEASE DO SOMETHING I WANT TO SEE—

Ahem.

Making a bench is child’s play for Welt. I thought it would be kind of funny if he did.

Welt is more childish here since he wanted to cheer Robin up, who looked clearly sad. I think he probably used to do something similar with his adoptive son Joey when he was upset. He couldn't help but do so for his companion.

The idea for him making himself have wings like hers is from this one comic I saw on Twitter that lives rent free in my mind. I thought it would be a great way to cheer her up while also using his power more!

(It took me so long to find this, it wasn't funny how much I scrolled)

His wings smack right onto his face rather comedically and I took that from the official emojis where you can see Robin hiding her face. I imagine that younger Halovians struggle with their wings moving around and his wings are practically akin to newborn ones.

The power of Reason.

This is where I had to make things painful. Welt talks about his experience, the memory that Sunday chose to use against him. I was thinking about what would be the best memory, and of course I went for the jugular for that pain factor.

This is where Welt Joyce, the former Herrscher of Reason died in the city he was protecting. This was where Joachim Nokianvirtanen, who we now know as Welt Yang received the Core of Reason, the name Welt and a mission from Welt Joyce, before passing away.

It’s a very important memory to Welt, and one I would see Sunday exploiting. Only those who know of Welt Yang’s story would know that the man he mentioned was Welt Joyce since I intentionally didn't mention his name.

For Welt recreating half of the town, I was spitballing about the energy part. I don’t know if Memoria would be a good substitute for Honkai energy but I’m just rolling with it. Don't quote me on that.

The main role of Welt here is to reassure Robin, give her the will and inspiration to keep going despite everything. She even tells him all about her experiences, a connection between the two already facilitated by simple communication.

I feel like Welt is such a father figure. If only we all had him in our lives.

Reality

Sunday has now merged with Dominicus and has fallen to those whispers above, as the never ending dream is taking form.

The Dreammaster, Mr Gopher Wood himself makes an appearance as his former form. In 2.2, all his ravens die and he is never seen again, making it pretty clear that he's dead. However, I assume that he joined the Dreamscape and is now an entity that can oversee everything.

Dead only physically, as you will.

The Embryo of Philosophy is named by the Dreammaster here, since I was wondering how Sunday was named that during his boss fight, although it could have been from the whispers THEMSELVES. I also made Mr Gopher Wood show his true colours, to show that manipulative side.

There was a reason for this. He didn't want his son to start rebelling or second guessing his choice, so he used Robin as a way to keep him ensnared in his deception. Evil, isn't he?

I honestly think that Sunday knew that he would ascend to Aeonhood, as smart as he is. At least, he would have had an inkling of Gopher Wood’s true intentions.

Those whispers were Ena this whole time inside of Xipe as we learn. If Xipe absorbed Ena, wouldn’t Ena still be there? I think Mr Gopher Wood and Ena were in cahoots, scheming together. Perhaps even more than that (gets hit).

How…how dare he? 

How dare he glimpse Heaven’s will? How dare he change people’s fate?

How dare he decide the life and death of other beings? 

How dare he represent the will of all beings? How dare he control the greatest secrets and riches of the world itself?

How dare he…hold the fate of the entire world in his hands?

These lines are from HI3, particularly from Chapter 3 of Part 2 but slightly edited. This is what Baiji thinks of his actions to save everyone, and I feel like it also applies to Sunday.

We have many HI3 references here. I couldn’t help myself.

We now go back to Robin's point of view. This is after she awakens from Ena’s dream.

I don’t know if any other people woke up aside from the Astral Express + Acheron, Boothill and Black Swan, but for plots sake, there was. Just some random people we don’t care about.

We have Acheron! I wanted to write her since she played a huge part in Penacony and it would be a shame not to after I read this:

The bloody sacrifice becomes the sweet dreamland. The real world will lose meaning for them, while the eternal dream will become their only reality. They will no longer think with time. Their dreams will be connected, which will create a true miracle that transcends finality.

This is also a treat for the HI3 players. The words here are the words that Raven tells Mei before Project Stigma takes place. I was playing through that chapter at one point and thought that the words fit perfectly for this story.

I rewrote Acheron’s part because I disliked what I had initially. I was writing about Finality and how it was the same as transcending Order but it didn’t fit well so I changed it. I wanted to say how Finality governs time and how it can change reality if you had the authority...but perhaps another time.

As we know, Acheron was the only survivor who defeated End, referring to Kevin Kaslana all by herself without her companions unlike in HI3. I had to mention this and highlight the difference between their cases.

She doesn't show up again in the story, but she also impacts Robin in a way.

Miss Firefly takes the stage!

We have a bit of Robifly because I do ship them and I couldn’t help myself when I had a chance to write an interaction between Robin and Firefly. I wanted something a bit more lighthearted to break between all the angst and pain.

I saw how Firefly mentioned that she can't dream, and so I just wanted Robin to tell her otherwise to cheer her up. She’s following Welt’s lead, being that kind and inspirational person!

I’m sorry for making you the third wheel…

Speaking of him, we have Welt again appear! I couldn’t help myself, I just wanted to write more of him and I felt like Robin would try to seek him out first.

Did you know that it was called a Dream Pool, that bed in the Reverie? I had to rewatch 2.0’s quest because I didn’t remember the name for the life of me.

This time, we have Welt suffering yet again…I'm sorry that I only write you like this. He mentions in 2.3 that he dreamt about returning to his homeland and seeing all his old friends. This poor man, imagine waking up to find that it was all a lie.

The yelling mention was obviously a nod to Tesla who I would imagine yell at him for taking this long to return without a single word.

I hope Welt does get to connect with his homeland eventually, I want to see them or hear them!

We then go into the battle against Sunday! I purposely chose Sunday's point of view here, since we never receive it in the game.

I was rewatching the fight, and noted how sudden the switch from the question Sunday asked to mentioning how it was their final talk felt like it wasn’t him talking anymore, which I made the case here since we have my wonderful whispers.

We learn more about how Sunday felt during this, and what may have happened after their fall. Robin mentioned how she woke up by herself, which could only mean that Sunday left her there.

I think he genuinely was upset by the failure, but most of all…failing Robin. The feather falling down is a reference from how there were feathers flying around when Robin appeared and how the Trailblazer took it into their hands.

It clearly has the power of Harmony, and that’s what Sunday can feel when he holds it tightly. I imagine that he would keep that feather with him, as a reminder of what he lost.

The ending is based off 2.3, where we learn that Sunday is captured and will face trial. I didn’t go into much detail since we really don’t know much about how he was caught.

It won’t be the end.

It will be the end of all the suffering. 

I will realise my dreams.

I will make my dreams come true. 

I won’t fail again.

I will never fail.

The poison to Penacony still lingers.

I am a traitor. 

These are Robin and Sunday's thoughts respectfully. As you can see, they are both the same fundamentally. That goes to show how they are both traitors in a way, aren't they?

We have a little ending about the siblings, alongside a story with a snake.

The snake is Miss Jade herself, where Robin went to her to make her greatest desire come true...to let Sunday go free. I wanted to reference the end of 2.3 where we see Jade talking to Sunday, how he was free but he refused her.

I repeated the words Acheron spoke for the very end to tie it all together. The perfect words to end a story filled with so much!

End

Thank you for reading all this! I’ve spent way too long on this story and I’m glad it’s finally out there for everyone to read!

I feel like in terms of storytelling, this is my best story so far! I'm proud of all the elements I was able to merge into this!

- Miku

[zyhkoo]

little spark ☆ ー REGULUS BLACK X READER. chapter 3

fluff, angst, regulus reunites with you, friends to lovers, co-parents

synopsis: with james and lily dead and sirius’s false conviction. regulus had escaped the death eaters with harry in his arms. his last resort was go to you, his former best friend and james’s sister. mlist

a/n: i didnt proof read this one, so i apologize for any mistakes!

A few days passed ever since Regulus showed up on your doorstep. Taking care of Harry is very ear-bleeding, yet he couldn’t help but soften around the boy. He was not his father, nor his family member. But there was something about him that just gives Regulus peace.

You were out at work, probably coming home soon. Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays were your work hours. It was either interviews, a rehearsal, performances or something else.

But needless to say, Regulus always saw you come home tired. You would always come back home in your animagus form to avoid people tailing you. Other than the pound, who else would follow a white cat? It was 9 pm, Regulus was on the couch cradling Harry in his arms.

He was going to place Harry in the newly bought crib you bought, but before he could place the boy in the crib, he bursted into tears. Now here he was, soothing Harry. Again. He stopped crying though, and Regulus was too lazy to put him back. Regulus let out a heavy sigh, carefully placing Harry on his lap as he sat on the couch. He didn’t have the energy to stand just yet, and Harry did seem calm in his arms.

Laziness was something Regulus didn’t expect from himself. His eyes slowly drifted to the front door. He would be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to your return. As if the gods heard his wishes, a little white cat came out the small doggy door. You transformed in your original form, you still had your costume on but you looked absolutely tired.

Regulus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise as he suddenly heard you announce yourself. He hadn’t heard you coming, although he was distracted by Harry to notice. “I’m homeee.” you groaned. You collapsed on the couch that he was sitting on, thankfully it was large enough to fit both of you. “..You look exhausted.” He murmured softly, he tilted his towards you as he gently rocked Harry.

“My manager told me to go all in with my magic, I went too far for this one.” you sighed, stretching a bit. Regulus inhaled sharply, his expression shifting into a slight frown as he registered your words.

“How far did you go, exactly? You look like you’re about to topple over..” He murmured, his brow furrowing. You moved to look at him “I don’t knoww, I was too into the moment.” you tried to explain.

Regulus closed his eyes and exhaled a quiet sigh. He wasn’t too pleased that you put your energy at risk, although he supposed he didn’t understand your work. “You should be careful. That can’t be safe.” He scolded, his brow furrowing as he gently rocked Harry. You snorted “Thanks dad.”

Regulus’ shoulders dropped slightly as you spoke, a soft huff leaving his lips as he opened his eyes. “I’m just saying..” he protested softly. He wasn’t too pleased that you seemed to disregard what he said.

He glanced down at Harry. He didn’t want to get into a disagreement right now, he was too tired. “How was work?” He asked, choosing to change the subject. “Great, oh they gave me fanmail. I’m gonna read them tomorrow though.” you answered his question. Regulus inhaled quietly, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Fanmail?” He inquired, curiosity peaking at the mention of it.

As weird as it was to think about, it makes sense that you’d get fanmail. You were a performer, it was bound to happen. It was just a concept that was so unfamiliar to him.

“What does it say?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked over at you. “I haven’t read them, it’s usually the same contents though. ‘Love you Y/N, You inspire me to do more, Im your biggest fan’ blah blah.” you said “Hey if you’re lucky, they give you free stuff.”

Regulus nodded silently as he listened to your words, his expression unchanging. He had mixed opinions on this, he didn’t quite like the thought of people he didn’t know, idolising you. There were always.. strange people around.

“Interesting.” he said.

“But anywa- fuck this costume is killing me!” you completely as you sat up from the couch.

Regulus inhaled slowly, tilting his head as he watched you stand from your seat. “Wouldn’t you be better off changing out of it, then?” He pointed out. You groaned “Maybee later? I'm tired.. and lazy.” you excused, a playful pout was written in your face. Regulus arched his eyebrow, an amused exhale leaving his lips as he took in your expression. “You have energy to be playful but not to get changed?” He remarked, although his tone had a hint of mirth.

“Thats mentally, this is physically. Can I hold Harry? I miss him.” He was still slightly wary of letting you hold Harry, but he knew there was no real reason to be so protective.

“..Fine. If only because you look pathetic.” He murmured, carefully placing Harry in your arms. You scowled “That's mean Reggie, isn’t that right Harry? Aww, you’re too cute.” He had to resist the urge to laugh as he saw you turn your attention to Harry.

“I’m just being honest.” He replied dryly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Do you see this Harry?” you said to him, Harry only giggled and baffled and held tightly on your finger.

Regulus tried to repress his own amusement as he watched you speak to Harry. He hated that he found you amusing like this. “He’s too young to understand.” He pointed out.. “Why are you talking to him like that?” Regulus murmured, tilting his head slightly as he observed Harry respond to you.

“In my heart he understands, right Harry?” you nuzzled his nose.

Despite his better judgement, he felt a soft smile forming on his lips as he watched the two of you. He had to make a conscious effort to drop it and return to his usual demeanor. “You’re being ridiculous..” he said.

“Did he eat or poo yet?” you asked.

“Both. Yes.” He said, a look of mild disgust on his face at the mention of Harry’s.. bodily functions. “Don’t ask me about that.” He murmured, shaking his head slowly.

“Why? It’s gonna be normal now.”

“Normal or not I’d rather not talk about it.” He protested quietly, tilting his head. “You take him when he needs.. changing.” He declared firmly.

“No fair!” you protested. He knew you well enough by now that he should’ve prepared for this. “Why not? You’re the one insisting on it being normal.” He said with a smirk. You stayed silent with a scowl “I win.” he said. “You can deal with the less savory parts of childrearing.” He murmured.

“I'll never get a kid after Harry grows up.” you sighed.

Regulus couldn’t help but quietly laugh in response to your words. He couldn’t argue. Neither of you were overly fond of children.

“We seem to be on the same page about that.” He confirmed. “He’s cute though, I’ll slide that.” you grinned. In honesty, he was fond of the baby. Despite the extra work he added to his plate, he did find himself growing rather attached to Harry. “..Quite.” He said. He found himself unwilling to say anything more, as to not expose himself.

“He is cute though, don’t deny.” you coed. Regulus nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I suppose he is..” he murmured softly, glancing in Harry’s direction momentarily. “Even if he does scream half the time.” He added a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

You looked at him with a smile. He noticed you looking at him. He met your gaze for a moment before breaking it, a hint of pink appearing on his cheeks. It wasn’t often that he got flustered easily, though when he did, it was usually because of you.

“What?” He protested, a soft huff escaping his lips. “You just look so happy nowadays.” you said, looking at his lips.

“Is that such an unusual thing for me?” He prompted, his tone a little defensive.

“Well no, you just look more.. relaxed.” you reassured him. “I don’t know how to explain it, you just look at peace.”

He supposed he couldn’t argue with that. He hadn’t even realized it himself. He did find himself feeling more content than usual, especially around the two of you. “I suppose you’re right.” He murmured quietly, tilting his head as he looked over at you.

You stretched and got off the sofa. “I'm gonna go shower and sleep, you can put Harry back in the crib.” Regulus nodded, carefully taking Harry back from you. “Alright.” He said simply, standing up to follow you.

As the two of you entered the room, he placed Harry on the crib. Regulus watched to make sure Harry was alright before glancing over at you. “Do you want me to stay with him as you get ready?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You’d do that?” you asked. “Of course.” Regulus replied without hesitation. “He’ll start fussing soon. I’d rather not hear him all night.” He murmured, a soft sigh escaping his lips. You answered by pulling him to a hug, your hands wrapped around his waist.

“Thank you, for taking care of him.” you murmured in his ear.

Regulus felt his cheeks warm at your unexpected gesture. He was a little stunned at first, not used to you being so openly affectionate like this. He returned the embrace after a moment, his arms wrapping around you. “It’s nothing..” He said quietly, his expression shifting into a soft sigh. You then pulled away with a smile. “I’ll take a bath then you can sleep so I can take care of him okay?”

“Alright.” Regulus responded simply, taking a step back to give you space. “Try not to fall asleep in there.” He added jokingly, tilting his head with a little smile. “Haha.” you rolled your eyes and took out your nightgown in your closet then entered the bathroom.

tags: @jqtaro

[ofduskanddreams]

The Embers of Us pt.1

I'm posting part one for @erisweek2023 modern au day and part two will be finished in the near future :)

Summary:

It's been ten years since Azriel fled his hometown of Starlight Creek, Wyoming to attend college in California. When his mom decides she's moving back to care for her best friend, there's no question in his mind—Azriel's going with her. She's done so much for him that pulling up roots to support her and his family is the least he can do. Those roots were shallow; prairie grasses, alpine forests, snow-fed streams, and star-strewn skies always suited him better anyway.

It's been ten years since Eris Vanserra was forced to choose the lesser of two substantial hurts. It's just his luck that the person who walks into the town's only bar on a Thursday evening in April is the same man he'd pushed away all those years ago. It's a drunk birthday wish come true, only seven years too late. It's a small world, and despite his best efforts not to, Eris runs into Azriel where he least expects.

A story about second chances for people and places, emotionally messy humans, and so much more. Loosely inspired by both the line "I wish I knew how to quit you" from Brokeback Mountain (2005.)

rated: E ✯ 12.6k words (pt. 1) ✯ read it on ao3

tagging: @iftheshoef1tz @ablogofsapphicpanic @moonpatroclus @octobers-veryown @damedechance @panicatthenightcourt @foundress0fnothing @krem-does-stuff @melonsfantasyworld @lady-riel @queercontrarian @asnowfern @valkyrieassassin @brokeneveningstars @catboyjamesbond @xtaketwox @itsthedoodle @areyoudreaminof @separatist-apologist @the-lonelybarricade @melphss @fieldofdaisiies @acourtofladydeath @bubybubsters @nestas-workwife @wilde-knight @thelovelymadone @archerofmagnusheart

if you want to be added to (or removed from) my azris taglist just let me know <3

[corkinavoid]

*deep breath in*

Hi, I'm Cork, and today I got an eye injury, so I am now, officially, a pirate. Albeit temporarily. Got the eyepatch and all that crap. More on that later.

Info post

about all my writing progress for anyone wondering and for myself to keep track of stuff. Also, some rambling.

Fiance to a Star - ⅘ done with translating second chapter, also doing moodboards and soundtracks for all of the chapters currently because visuals. Gotta find the right library music. Fuck, translating is hard, why did I write it in Russian, I'm so stupid.

Married to Winter - 8.5 chapters written, editing for the second chapter will be done on Thursday, and I'm posting it on Friday. Need to rewrite chapter 9 probably, it's not working the way I want it to. Currently inspired, so maybe will write more chapters for it. Do I want to add soundtracks? I mean, I do, but do I have the brain capacity and mental strength to do so?

Multiverse Police - on hold, out of ideas, nothing is working. Will come back to it later.

Changeling AU - also on hold, but it's mostly done in my opinion, so any additions will be sporadic.

You Should Ask Danny - editing chapters 6 and 7, chapter 8 is written, but I really don't like it. Might put this on hold after posting chapter 7, but I have a whole list of ideas for it. Maybe I should just delete chapter 8 completely and write something else? I mean, why not, but then I feel like the idea is good, I just can't write it the way I want it.

Mercenary Danny - ugh, I want to write the Christmas date so bad, but it requires writing a scene with so many characters! Fenton family is big, and I want Vlad to be there, which is another can of worms because I suck at writing middle-aged men. Can I just write him as a pretentious vampire wannabe and be done with it? But no, that will ruin his characterization.

Haunted Family - done, fuck it, I lost all the motivation for it.

Demon Babysitter - still on hold, but probably also done.

Now, to the unposted wips that are sitting in my googledocs:

One Night Stand Gone Wrong - 10 fucking chapters written and I- fuck I just wanted some simple short DarkHumor (Dick/Dan) one-shot, how did it come to this, honestly. But guess what, I'm writing chapter 11 even if it kills me, I have an idea for Tim/Danny in there. I'll be posting that, um, later. One day. I still need to reread it and maybe rewrite some stuff, it's just a bunch of word vomiting right now.

Road Trip - 4.5 chapters written, and it's going literally nowhere. Is this a pun? Maybe. Should I just post 4 chapters of it and be done with it? The story is done, more or less. Or, I could just fit all 4 chapters into one, make it a one-shot, and call it a day, what a good idea!

Bad GIW - ugh, I can't. 3.5 chapters written and I stopped liking the idea completely. It will never be finished. Should I post works that I don't plan on finishing ever?

Living Weapon Danny - same thing as Bad GIW, I wrote 2 chapters and abandoned it. Fuck I'm bad at writing angst, I just- can't. I want to. But I can't.

Masters Gala - I still love the idea, but damn, writing Vlad is hard. Also, writing galas is hard. Also, writing kids is hard! Maybe I should rethink it and make them not kids but teens? But I still need plot for it, holy fuck, how do you write plot for a gala? Should I just, I dunno, put a heist in there? A haunted mansion horror story? A murder mystery? I'm still debating on whether to put Al Ghul Twins or Dead Serious in there because I can't do both for ethical reasons. I mean, I can, but I bet a lot of people will find it messed up. It's not even incest if they are not related neither biologically nor legally nor by their upbringing. Is it? Fuck, I don't know.

Lastly, about being a pirate. TW: eye injury, a lot of cursing included because I'm m a d

So a fucking mad girl hit me in the eye with one of those wooden stir sticks. Because her coffee was too hot. Bitch you ordered a hot fucking drink what did you expect? Mind you it was not burning hot, I held the cup before she did, it was alright, and okay, I get that people can have different perceptions of temperature and heat tolerance, maybe it was too hot for her but who in their right mind stabs people in the face for their drink being too hot, what the fuck

Anyway, I've got the eye checked out - and it's not covered by insurance which is another reason I'm mad as fuck - and it's okay. Mostly. I can't open my eye because it hurts like hell, and i have to do eyedrops and wear an eyepatch for a while, but it's gonna be alright in a few days, so I'm fine.

Is the fact I can only see with one eye gonna stop me from writing? Fat chance.

[nixerium]

Okay last thoughts on Eurovision until Thursday’s semifinals, inspired by some other posts I’ve seen:

I get we’re hosting it for Ukraine this year, but I was really expecting more stuff about Ukraine themselves during the interval and frankly that just. Rubs me the wrong way??

Like surely we’d put more of the focus on them, a little bit of UK is alright but we already had a lot of (honestly unjustified) attention recently with the coronation so why aren’t we putting the spotlight on Ukraine more?

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/30/2023

all you can see is my hand over the back of the couch as i give a limp wrist flick of acknowledgement and point you toward the post ↓ 

listening

Smooth Jazz by GUPPY, a selfdescribed comedic punk band that makes secular guitar music with bedroom-pop overtones. said to myself out loud on my walk "this sounds gay" and whaddya know they are.

I’m listening to smooth jazz In the parking lot outside of Joann’s Fabrics & Crafts And I’m feeling like a dumb spazz Because my mind is moving way too fast

i have had this exact experience at multiple joanns. the last bit of the song has been on loop in my head since uhh thursday when i was catching up with my spot/ify weekly recommended list. the tired, slightly ironic last-number-in-the-musical performance is really doing it for me

Jazz, baby! That’s just jazz, baby That’s just jazz That’s just jazz, baby In my brain, baby So give me a lobotomy

-

reading

raymond chandler's the long goodbye.

this book destroyed me. there is some BREATHTAKING racism even for 1953. it's one of the cruelest things ive ever read. it's a sucking chest wound of a book. i'm going to think about it for the rest of my life.

i'm not able to talk about chandler novels objectively.

i am partially grieving the incredibly fucked up shit that happens to marlowe in this book (i have no fucking clue how you even go on after that, but he does) and partially grieving that this is the last full novel and there aren't any more. i know the unfinished poodle springs was finished after chandler's death but! i do not care.

-

watching

One-Eyed Jacks (1961, dir. Brando). widely available for free, pluto had the nicest copy but ads that weren't blockable. this is a film where the production is as much of a story as the actual film.

i don't actually know if i enjoyed this film or had a good time watching it. i don't know that i ever need to see it more than once.

it is artistically distinct, and i genuinely mean that as a compliment. it is a rare western-that-doesn’t-have-to-be-a-western, and such a weird artifact of a particular guy's career in a particular time.

surprisingly, this is a pretty okay western to watch if you happen to be a woman. katy jurado and pina pellicier are acting their GODDAMN hearts out. despite itself, the movie paints a very good portrait of a mother-daughter relationship and some goodass parenting. women make mistakes and don't die about it. nobody gets raped!!! the absolute lowest bar a western can possibly have. as a quick sidebar, it's not that i think movies should never address rape, it's that westerns always address it in a way that makes my stomach turn.

it is a slow-burning revenge that mostly takes place on a beach, but it also takes you in great uneven hurtling lurches toward its finale. it wants to have things to say about lies, revenge, and storytelling but cannot help but give itself a certain kind of ending. it can only push so far. it is fascinatingly earnest, horny, and earnest about being horny.

-

playing

grim fandango remastered (2015, originally 1998) by double fine. the EPIC tale of CRIME and CORRUPTION in the LAND OF THE DEAD!!! critically acclaimed, what we would now call Mexican Gothic i think, but billed itself as a Aztec-inspired noir.

technical details: i am not totally impressed by this remaster bc it still looks pretty fucking janky in parts (things clipping through other things, heavily pixelated stuff despite being on the highest quality settings, etc)

why i bounced off: i did not play video games growing up, and have not played many point-and-click games. despite this i do like walking simulators (the modern successor to point-and-click) and visual novels. i think bc i do not have the point-and-click background and am not playing this through nostalgia-tinted glasses for 1998, four years after i was born, the way the design team of this game expect the general population to solve problems and the way i personally solve problems are severely mismatched. i have spent about ten hours playing this game (in four acts) getting to about halfway through the third act, and i would say about half that time has been looking for/at guides or making up lost progress bc i didn't save. this is a tremendously frustrating way to spend free time.

what i did love: however, it does Look. i ADORE this tile and want it in my home. in a cutscene in this little automat there are not one not two not three but FOUR reflective surfaces. they're not real-time, of course, but i did say "what the FUCK" out loud. it's also hysterically fucking funny! many short sharp barks of laughter! i am greatly amused at how a game about skeletons invented permadeath! both the writing and the voice performances are so fucking top notch. i understand why this is a beloved classic and im glad a remastered edition exists in the world, but i do not anticipate finishing this game bc i don't get a lot of joy out of having to closely follow a guide to progress.

how i found this: it was free on GOG several years ago, i wanted to play something this weekend that was compatible with lying down on the couch and used a maximum of one finger for the controls.

-

making

i cannot show any of the extremely doxxable embroidery samples that will zhuzh up this cardigan for a work event in mid-june, but i can show how i tacked the buttonband down. this is somewhat indifferent stitch spacing but it stays down and is invisible at a distance from the right side, and that's what matters. gotta de-pill this also but that's a bit boring for a tuesdaypost

[fountainpenguin]

Recent 'Fic Progress 'n Stuff

I'm in a very busy period of my life right now, so updates may become sporadic, but here's some news I have for now!

Fandoms discussed: MCYT, Total Drama, WordGirl, Fairly OddParents

MCYT - Typically updates Tuesdays

- Aiming to post something for the Pixels Imperfect series on Tuesday, but don't be alarmed if it doesn't happen.

-> I'm in this weird zone where my chapter for Herobrine's Guide to the Between Dimension is complete except for the map I'm almost done with, but I'm having some artist block getting the map where I want it, so... I might hold off a bit until I'm happy with it. It's not bad, but I'm struggling with clean-up and labels.

-> Really good progress on my next Dog's Life chapter. In a weird zone of hesitating over whether I'm going too far with X or Y. Needs more attention, but I'm really happy with what I have so far. Very exciting! I did some doodles that I'll post under the cut :)

-> High likelihood of skipping this next Tuesday of posting, which gives time to let Collector's Fee sink in anyway (Plus I did a double update for Dog's Life at the start of August for its anniversary and that was probably too much for me), but we should be back the week after :)

- Herobrine's Guide will go on hiatus after Chapter 14 (the next chapter to post is Chapter 11) because that's where the buffer runs out. At that point, we've finished all world lore (except the Hels stuff that goes in the Additional Info final chapter). That's where we enter the bestiary, and they're huge chapters I want to ensure are consistent all the way through. So... I need to finish all the bestiary chapters before posting the first one :'D. A lot of work is done, but a lot still left to do!

-> Since I've been posting Herobrine's Guide during Dog's Life's intermission, we just won't have Tuesday updates for a bit. I think I'll switch to finishing The Candles We Light (and Should Regret) & Top 10 Hanahaki Life Hacks (#8 Will Shock You), which I started during Guess the Author.

-> Comparatively, they're shorter projects and it would be nice to finish them instead of leaving them hanging. That should work well, but we may have a period of no Tuesday updates during this adjustment period.

- Dog's Life is still on soft hiatus through to January or February 2025. It's between Sessions 2 and 3 right now and that hasn't changed. At this time, it posts once a month (although as mentioned, there may be a slight delay in the next chapter, but we had a double update on August 1st, so no surprise :))

-> When Dog's Life resumes, it will most likely be once every two weeks instead of every week. I really enjoyed posting weekly, but I have to admit it's A Lot. I was able to do that when hyperfixating on it as the only fandom I was posting consistently for, but I'd like to roll it back for 2025. Considering I post chapters above 10k words, I think it's fair; weekly updates was a lot. Final decision will be made when we actually reach 2025!

- We know Grian's working on Life Series Season 6 and that he said it would be a while. When that drops, I expect to do liveblogs and maybe one-shots depending on inspiration.

Total Drama - Currently updates Wednesdays and Saturdays

Life of a Loser is getting close to its end! Once it's done, we'll switch to posting one TD 'fic a week (probably) until they're all posted. Leaning towards posting on Wednesdays or Thursdays. Subject to change.

You can subscribe to the Riddle's Drama AO3 series if you want those emails. If you are only subscribed to Life of a Loser but you want to continue seeing more of my TD work, now is a good time to subscribe to the series, as basically everything from here is one-shots.

Reminder: I wrote these works between 2013 and 2016. I'm moving them to AO3 for archive purposes. You can leave comments or send me Asks if you want to chat about these works or their worldbuilding, but my knowledge of the show ends after Ridonculous Race; I didn't watch Total Dramarama and I don't know anything that came after it.

My Total Drama works will continue posting for the rest of 2024 and into 2025. I don't anticipate writing more works for this series, although if I had infinite time, I'd be interested in finishing the ones I started and left unfinished (because Leonard, my beloved).

WordGirl - On hiatus

Still on hiatus for now! Was hoping I'd be able to post more for it before the end of 2024, but that was pushed back by a very busy summer, which led to me not getting the Frayed Knots buffer where I wanted, and Frayed Knots has priority.

These works are not discontinued (I've been working on Factor It In since 2018 and I'm not dropping it now, lol). They're just on break, because I'd prefer leaving them on break and returning with a buffer over random updates.

I do have some one-shot drafts I've been sitting on, and I might clean and post those, but my attention's pretty divided between IRL, MCYT 'fics, and FOP right now, so this isn't super likely.

Factor It In has a serious vibe, as it's a realistic exploration of superhero life and biology, and there's also, like... no death or serious injury in it. I'm currently interested in things that are either wackier or angstier, but I look forward to coming back to it when I'm ready to be serious again. I genuinely like these 'fics a lot, including my WIPs, but it's an exciting time for FOP fandom right now and I want to enjoy it :)

If you want updates for my WordGirl 'fics, you can subscribe to Heroes' Journey or 28 Million Degrees. And you can always send me Asks if you want to!

Fairly OddParents - AO3 updates on Fridays, plus I've been posting on the blog any day of the week

- New cover arts for Frayed Knots and Origin of the Pixies are done! Their new announcement posts will go up soon, as I wanted to get all the 130 arc covers done first (for reverse tag scrolling purposes).

I did these two first and I think they're my favorites <3 These will replace their existing covers in their respective 'fics, and these are the posts that will be linked to when discussing these projects (Ex: I need to clean my FOP 'fics page and these will go there).

Reblogs always appreciated for cover / announcement posts, but no pressure! These are messy 'fics and not to everyone's tastes.

- I've committed to the name City Lights AU for my New Wish works. I'm REALLY excited for the "arranged marriage & not in love but we're going along with it anyway because this is what we do as upper class kids" trope I've set myself up with... for reasons...

- The AU guide is complete and will be posted after I finish Hadley's full sideblog profile, as I want her to be linked on it.

- I... emotionally cannot post Hadley's profile until I clean the freakin' blog, because I HATE what the update years ago did to bullet points, so I'll see if I can make some time for the sideblog. I have to go back and change them all to indents with dashes, like I've been doing in my posts over here... and I still have to fix all the broken masterpost links (which broke during the same Tumblr update from years ago). Gonna be a pain, but...... :'D The things we do for love.

- I went through my drafts and it looks like I do have some lore and reference posts that can be cleaned and posted for the sideblog, which would be nice; I have more to work with than I thought.

I can also do things like post the Fairy School Schedule on the sideblog instead of on a Google Doc. Up until now, it was relying on the doc for color coding (for ease of reading), but now we have color-coded posts, so it can go on the blog directly. - Also ?? it turns out I never actually compiled my multiple posts on Fairy aging into a single post, and thus the detailed info never made it on the sideblog. -> I compiled an age chapter for today's "So, You're Studying the Cloudlands..." update (i.e. I'd had the development charts there as placeholders since the start, but I really wanted actual info too) and that will become a sideblog post in the future.

- Somewhere in the depths of my literal 2,400 drafts on main blog is some sideblog stuff that I saved as drafts here instead of there, and one day... I will find it. But we'll talk about that again after my A New Wish liveblog is done.

I'm also going to change the sideblog's mentions of Riddleverse Classic to Cloudlands AU, now that it has a real name. Just... finally coming back and power washing everything before I risk posting anything new that attracts new eyes while the blog is messy, haha.

Technically the term Riddleverse 'fics covers all my AUs, so some mentions will stay (like things that say "contains Riddleverse spoilers"). However, this should make things more clear.

I had a lot of self-censorship internalization and general nerves when I was working on the sideblog back in the day, but I'm a lot more "cringe and free and I'm gonna make it everyone's problem" now than I was a few years ago, so it'll be nice to move on from those memories and learn to enjoy the blog again.

- I also feel happier with my art and writing styles now compared to where I was in recent years. Looking forward to blowing the dust off and polishing stuff nicely! I'm not going to try to keep future profile arts consistent with the old arts, so it'll be what it'll be.

Heavily leaning towards redesigning my adult Chloe, as I was never that attached to her, and I want to slightly tweak my Timmy and Cosmo to better fit my current art style. Debating whether to add Anti-Wanda's scars. Also need to do a scar ref for H.P. since he has a huge one on his cheek I rarely draw because I always seem to draw him facing the other way, sdklj... Someday...

- I had a lot of IRL stuff happen in recent years that was similar to things happening in my FOP 'fics and I wasn't able to truly enjoy them for a while. A New Wish brought back a lot of my excitement for the series and I feel like I'm healing a lot in regards to being able to enjoy FOP :)

I'm excited to share the arc guide and start outlining 'fics.

- As previously mentioned, I've cleaned the 130 Prompts summaries page so it's up to date with 2024 plans. Also, I've finished all the arc guides and made a new cover image for the project!

- I'd like to kick off Arc 3 of the Prompts with a piece about Dale shortly after "Nectar of the Odds" - "#96 - You Deserve It." The piece after that will loop back to the "Am I adopted?" drama Poof went through in Arc 2, and it'll be fun! I'm really excited :)

- Frayed Knots is high priority, but it's also a massive project requiring lots of brain power, so it'll be nice to sprinkle lighter one-shots in between.

- Great progress on Frayed Knots! Things are really coming together. Might post one chapter soon, but the next few need more attention. Still hoping to build a proper buffer, but it's a slow process.

-> I... think I'm going to take the plunge and commit to dropdown chapter warnings for Origin and Knots, the way I do for my MCYT multi-chapters :'D Will this be exhausting and require a lot of rereading? Yeah, but it makes me feel less self-conscious (and it helps me quickly check each chapter to confirm I know what's in it). So... That'll be going on in the background, but expect it to take a while. It will not be fast.

-> Next chapter gets a standalone E-rated version, like we did for "Cageflight" back in the day. As previously stated, Frayed Knots maintains it's T and/or mild M rating despite now being classified as Not Rated; E-rated content will always be posted separately. And this one's pretty intense, so prepare emotionally before reading.

/whispers loudly - It's the big "raised in a culture where sex is done for ceremony" vs. "longing for passion and ready to ask for it" clash we've been waiting for... I finally am happy with my blocks for this scene. Just pulling it all together. It feels SO FUN to finally write the ceremonial bits of their culture as a proper ceremony explored onscreen. It's always been hypothetical... sdfljksdflkj...

This chapter is called "House of Cards." The standalone will be titled the same, and these are the AO3 series that will get the email notification:

Rainbow Train -> Not in the 130 Prompts

Red Train -> Suggestive / explicit

Orange Train -> High fantasy (Deep-dive into Anti-Fairy culture)

Subscribe or ignore at your preference, but there's your heads up. And obligatory reminder that this is a 'fic about a protagonist who has hypersexuality and we explore that more now that he's an adult than in the earlier chapters when he was younger.

Anti-Cosmo being hypersexual, bipolar, pan, AND ace, AND carrying trauma from a past life, and VERY confused about attraction, you will always be famous to me <3

As we know, Origin of the Pixies is all the way up to the war chapters, so it's on hiatus until Knots catches up. From there, we'll alternate between H.P. and Anti-Cosmo POVs through the war! Very exciting.

Knots still has to get Anti-Cosmo through his first meeting with Cosmo (who still has to hit Wanda with his car in line with "Cosmonopoly"), then through godparenting schooling & into a high rank in Anti-Fairy World (in line with his appearance in the truce flashback of "Balance of Flour"), but we're getting close!!

Also as previously stated, I might get around to posting some sensual / sexual stuff for FOP that I wrote as character studies and warm-ups back in the day, but...

I cannot emphasize enough that these delve into really heavy topics like consent violations, setting up a plot about being underage and desperate that will later crash and burn, and sexual trauma, and they're not necessarily sexy or fun to read, so just... [obligatory I Write Trauma & Morally Gray Characters In 'Fics For The Show About Trauma & Morally Gray Characters reminder].

But I do think there's really interesting stuff in here in terms of character studies and I wouldn't mind having them available, if for no other reason than because I've lost them multiple times and would enjoy having a place to find them.

-> Those all go in Red Train and Rainbow Train. Again, subscribe or ignore at your preference. They are not part of the 130 Prompts (which are strictly G and T works).

-> These are certainly not necessary reads in order to "keep up with what's happening" to the characters. Anything you need to know for their plot arcs is in their G and T stories. This is just bonus stuff for people who're interested in... The Horrors.

That's all I have to say for now! Thanks for reading!

Doodles for the upcoming Dog's Life Chapter 41 and/or 42 depending on where I cut it

Mild spoilers depending on how good you are at deciphering these out of context:

[de4dlyniightshade]

heyy :) erm im gonna fangirl really quick and then the request will be at the end incase you wanna skip to that part or anything, lol. okay so this is very much unnecessary and unasked for and blah blah but i don't care! i believe writers need to hear how much we appreciate them and their works because whew mama! ive been trying to write fics for like months and it actually is so horrible. i genuinely start to angrily vibrate bc my thoughts don't flow on the notes app. but i just wanted to say, nightshade, (ehehe that's so cheeky and silly for some reason) that i reallyyy love your work. its actually like horrific how much your writing just makes me so 😜😊🤭 i know you're not like a celebrity or anything, so it's gonna be weird with this like mini parasocial relationship thing, but please know your work has an impact !! a few months ago, i did something extremely bad and out of character while i was spiraling, and i decided that the best decision for me would be to quit using social media. (and beforehand i had quit using tiktok for like 7 months already and i wasn't that addicted to my phone but i still was consuming negative media) so, ofc, i stopped completely for a good month or so and only ever using youtube every now and then. buttttt, one of the first social media platforms i came back to first... was tumblr! it's actually so silly too because i only used tumblr like 4 times beforehand so i was quite new. but anyway anyway (im a yapper UGH) i really found that your posts had made me feel happy :) idk they kinda reminded me of myself before i went big bad that one time and it made me inspired to go back to how i used to be... u get me?? you're writing literally haunts my brain oh my lord it should be illegal to read your stuff because afterwards i literally have this crazy ass urge to read more and more and more. im lowkey an addict cause i be having my deadlynightshade withdrawals. the way you write is just so 😫 gosh, it's beautiful. i also love ur sillyness because like ME TOO. your random little posts are so me coded and i love it. YOU'RE SO FUNNY 😭 uhmm i just wanted to say thanks for being super cool and talented because believe it or not, the stuff you put out makes me really happy! (that was so melodramatic like mf they write about spencer being a pathetic pussy drunk bitch why are you saying it changed ur life?? its true tho.) erm yeah that's the end of that part i just again wanted to thank you 🙏 i wish we were friends SO BAD like you're actually awesome what the fuck.... but like how do u even become friends w ppl?? LMAO ERM ANYWAY 😍 can you write a blurb or h.c or something (honestly anything will make me happy) about valentine's day?? 🤭 basically spencer being SO FUCKING SHY because you can't stop touching his hands or hair subtly or like kissing his cheek leaving marks from lipstick or like getting him his favorite snacks/drinks/books/textures/ basically a gift that made u think about him?? ugh or him doing the same with you like him being the best fucking nerd boy ever and spoiling you so much like he goes ape shit spending well over his funds limit but it's worth it because it's you? or like sweet soft cutie pie sex? at the end of the day and he's like... Erm.. Pussy for 1 please! you were so pretty today... You always are-! (I'm mentally ill and writing this at 8:37 pm on a thursday night.)

this is. the sweetest shit anyone has ever said to me i actually cried ngl to you.

i'm genuinely so thankful for the little community i have created here i never expected such an insane amount of positivity and love from people just for the whack ass shit i write but that's probably just my perpetual self hatred and disbelief that people enjoy anything about me🤞

i think it's crazy how people on the internet who have never met me, don't know me, what i look like, or anything can treat me better than any of my friends have and i'll always be thankful for that.

ALSO! i love being called funny pls kiss me i never think i'm actually funny istg

i was also planning on writing a valentines fic ALREADY but this made me wanna write it even more as a thank you for this message it genuinely made my week(can't promise it ON TIME for valentines but i can try!)

i'm also so glad that my work and blog makes you happy, there's no privilege greater than making someone smile even when they don't feel like it</3