#and how there's little difference sometimes in situations but a big difference in their actions

[luvwich]

✒️ writer interview tag

tagged by @dustdeepsea — tysm, this was great fun! read their answers here and mine, if you like, beneath the cut ✨

When did you start writing?

early 2023 was my first foray into writing actual fiction. prior to that i'd done an embarrassing amount of roleplaying many years ago, which i shall speak on no further, but it did form the basis for a lot of my writing now!

once upon a time, i seriously entertained the idea of an MFA in screenwriting, but went on to pursue something even stupider for grad school 👍

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

honestly everything i enjoy reading gets smuggled into my writing in some form or another!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

there are like 26 different writers where i wish to take bits and pieces of their style, send it all into a meat grinder, and press the gunk into sausage casings to be dipped in batter and deep fried. ideally i want my writing to hit like wagyu beef that's been corrupted into a county fair corn dog. but no i'm not sure i've ever been compared to another writer! that would fuck my shit up truly (in a good way)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

typically curled up on my couch, because the ergonomic status of my home office setup is terrible — potentially lethal. sometimes i stay late at my not-home office, hidden away in a dark conference room, but that's usually only if i'm on a self-imposed deadline (i.e. i've started posting a WIP)

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

the spark that gets me to write is usually some kind of Dynamic that i want to explore so i do a lot of noodling upon situations and then figuring out how to get there. and by situations i mean smut

also, writing bits of dialogue, even if i don't know the context yet. it gets a character's voice and mannerisms in my head, and gives me a little grain to start building on

sadly, going on a hike and/or reading a really good book are both very effective and by far the most time consuming

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

longing, isolation, identity, the difference between the person you'd like to be and the person you are, strained/dysfunctional family relationships, wrong person right time, hope, blowjobs, self-deception, california, fucking your way through it, guilt, social class, mommy issues, mono no aware, oral fingering, etc; they don't surprise me anymore but the first time i finished a long fic and took a step back i was like "ohh haha Damn"

What is your reason for writing?

i am horny, sad n silly

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

all forms of feedback are so touching! i think much of what i write is pretty niche, so simply knowing someone has read my stuff gets me pumped. a big essay of a comment is like receiving a love letter, and comments that are just an emoji are like someone's tucked a little note in my lunchbox, and both are incredibly nourishing to me. as far as motivation, though, anything that implies someone is looking forward to reading more is the surest way to light a fire under my people-pleasing ass

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

affable wretch, trickster, wine aunt

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

i'm not sure any one thing stands out: i believe i'm pretty good in a few areas (dialogue, sensory detail, characterization) and notably lacking in others (action, "plot," pacing, not getting high on my own supply)… okay i'll stop being an asshole though and say my strength is in "delivering on a mood," if that is a thing

How do you feel about your own writing?

generally good. for one, i'm proud of myself for ever finishing and posting anything, because following through on shit isn't something i'm renown for. i tend to hate everything i write after i've gotten some distance from it, but i think that's normal? right? i'm new at it and it's all for fun so i try to be gracious with myself, with mixed success, because beneath my goofy exterior i do take everything too seriously

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

mostly for myself; i do abstractly ask "would someone who isn't me enjoy this?" and never quite know the answer. like most humans i crave external validation and connection, but like a cactus i can survive on just a lil rainfall 🌵

tagging w/no pressure (but with my best barbara walters impression) @corpocyborg @ghostoffuturespast @merge-conflict @streetkid-named-desire @writing-for-soup

[monomorphilogical]

Not another lone wolf

when my body's see-through in the light of the moon

I'm trying to hide away in every corner of my room

all those mean men were only the wolf to a man

their teeth in my arm when I gave them my hand

devoted to acting crazy in the middle of a lonely night

voice above me said they're all in love with the fight

my soul's not the believer but I've seen the signs

and my mama has told me it's all in their eyes

(burning in the dark like some torch song

glowing some shade of horribly wrong)

so I'm only trying to keep you from the door

I learned sharp teeth are the edge to fear for

that mouth full of knives will bite right through me

cut out my heart and set the damned thing free

cupid-bowed and stain-cheeked it'll go to my head

it'll bleed out of me until my clothes show red

I need time but I'm so bad with the waiting

I’m standing in your doorway forever hesitating

and there's howling coming through the white noise

but what's echoing back to me is my own voice

when at night I cry wolf when you've gone away

ask me any question and I'll don't know what to say

but there comes a day I'll cut out loose

and sleep next to you through this night's blues

‘cause your body hasn't worn the sheep's skin

moon high and you're the same you've always been

I guess the sudden bark is worse than your bite

you were never a wolf to man but you're such a sight

[rhysazriel]

When the Sun Rose [Azriel]

SUMMARY: After a drunken night of gentle kisses and truths spilled, when morning arrives, Azriel has no recollection of his earlier admittances. (1.4k)

WARNINGS: it’s pretty angsty, but nothing major!!

A/N: this is a rewrite of an old piece. It’s unlikely I’ll write a second part but I might be open to the possibility in the future. Sometimes I just love an angsty ending hehe

You’d seen him drunk plenty of times before. Been the one to race shots down your throat with him and later help him sober up before morning. You’d seen him in a lot of states before, you supposed that was just what came with being his best friend.

Best friend.

The thought caused a silent sad laugh to rumble in your stomach. You realised the sad truth that you were in love with him almost a year ago. Realised that the butterflies in your stomach and blush on your cheeks were more than just shyness when you gained his full attention.

But in the years you’d known of your feelings, you’d watched him have fling after fling, fuck after fuck, and come back to you in the mornings to gush about what position he had them in and how many times he made them cum with his fingers and mouth.

Tonight was a little different, though. Azriel had his hands all over you, his lips pressed against every spot of your neck and his hands gripping every inch of your waist. It had never been you beneath him in his bed, but tonight it was and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

He palmed at your chest beneath your shirt and tweaked your nipples deliciously. Your head rolled back into the pillow, fingers tangled in his dark hair and you tugged generously at the locks.

Azriel grunted into your neck, nosing up your jaw and smearing his lips against yours. “I‘m in love with you... love you, so fucking much,” he admitted breathlessly.

You could feel your heart leap in your heaving chest. Could feel your veins burst starlight into your bloodstream. You pulled his face back with both palms cupping his cheeks and scanned his eyes.

His skittish shadows wrapped around you both, gentle whispers that you couldn’t decipher but they only made him grin wider. Azriel nudged your nose with his, that floating feeling returning to your mind in full force. There was no way this was happening.

“You are? Please tell me you’re being serious… I’ve been in love with you for years,” you confessed back, ignoring the way the admission lifted a huge weight off your chest and Azriel was kissing you again, hard and tender.

And as quickly as it started, it ended. You fell asleep in each other's arms—you wearing your underwear and Az’s shirt and him in just his boxers. It was when the sun rose and he stirred from his slumber that his foggy mind tried to put the puzzle pieces together.

It wasn’t his room and there was the weight of a small female on his side. Azriel thought he’d just had another one night stand that clearly wasn’t worth remembering. But he noticed the hair colour and style and when he craned his neck, he realised who was half naked in his arms.

Azriel leapt from the bed in shock, eyes wide and his sudden movement startled you awake. His shadows skittered around him, alert and confused by their master's actions. It was when you stretched beneath the covers that he realised your outfit—or lack thereof and he thought the worst.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed blindly, hands dragging down his tired face and he couldn’t deal with a headache this big. You blinked away the slew and stared at him with furrowed brows, stuttering out a laugh. “Morning to you, too,” you rasped.

Azriel’s eyes were still blown wide and he didn’t understand how you were being so nonchalant. You’d never cuddled half naked before, never even shared a bed. Yes, you’d been best friends and extremely close, but a situation had never arisen where you’d had to share a damn bed.

“What are you... oh Gods, please tell me we didn’t... you know...” he gestured between you both and some sort of realisation began to well in your eyes. He didn’t remember.

You shook your head with a nervous laugh. “No, I mean we kissed a bit but that’s it... we just slept cuddling,” you explained, a faint smile on your face and Azriel took a deep breath.

You supposed it was him coming to terms with the fact that you finally kissed and you knew how he felt. At least, that was what you thought.

There was still panic on his face and he squeezed his eyes shut, taking another deep breath. “Did I like... say anything to you that I normally wouldn’t have said? Like I normally wouldn’t have kissed you,” he stared at your worry stricken face as a blush rose to your cheeks.

You stifled a laugh. “I mean, you did tell me that you’re in love with me,” you reminded him, a teasing smile on your lips and you expected him to grow bashful and throw himself on the bed, begging that he didn’t mean to admit it and that it was okay if you didn’t feel the same way.

You thought he just forgot how you both expressed your requited love.

But Azriel didn’t grow bashful and nervous. Instead, his marred hands were in his raven hair and he was groaning at himself. “I’m sorry. I say stupid shit when I’m drunk like that and I’m sorry, that must’ve been awkward for you.” He apologised, rubbing at his face.

His shadows cooed around his neck and face, seemingly attempting to console their master and coax him into a calmer state. You wondered if they were whispering reassurance that you loved him too.

You crawled across the bed, gentle smile on your lips and you were about to tell him to stop worrying, that you were in love with him too, but you stopped in the middle of the bed when he looked at you with a careful look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

“Why would it be awkward?” You asked with a slight tilt of your head. You thought Az was going to tell you he was certain you didn’t love him back, but he frowned you instead, like his reasoning was the most obvious thing and let out a soft laugh.

“‘Cause I’m obviously not in love with you. Can’t imagine how awkward I’d feel if you told me you were in love with me but I didn’t know you were just shit-talking while you’re drunk,” he laughed comically but from his words, you felt your heart sink to your stomach and you thought you might be sick.

Your chest was tight and your head was spinning. You could physically feel the heartache in your fingertips and your entire body was buzzing in a numbing rage. You wanted to cry, could feel your throat swelling but you didn’t trust yourself to say anything without breaking down.

You cleared your throat and let off an awkward laugh. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening. You thought he meant it, thought your life was coming together, thought you’d finally feel loved. But it was all a lie.

He didn’t love you.

“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled, a frown on your lips. Azriel didn’t see it, though. He was too busy throwing another shirt on and shoving his legs in a pair of trousers from the night before.

Everything felt numb when he looked back at you with the normal cheeky glimmer in his eyes. His shadows had split in half. Some with him, swirling in agitation, and the others with you as they coiled around your cool skin in some offering of comfort.

And as you stared at his lips, you could feel them back on yours again, how they caressed your pout and offered you a sense of home and warmth.

You let yourself bask in the memory for as long as you could, because you knew you’d never get it again. You let the reality of the situation sink in. Let it sink in that not only did he not love you last night when he said he did, that not only did he not love you now, but that he never would.

And you let yourself hurt. Hurt because the love of your life would never feel the same, and you’d learned that in the most impossibly painful way. Because for a fleeting moment, you thought you knew what it felt like to be loved by him. But then the sun rose and so did the truth.

Now you prayed to the Mother that he didn’t one day remember what really happened that night. Prayed that his shadows would hold some loyalty to you and keep it your secret.

But when Azriel left your bedroom, they slithered out the door too.

Like nothing had happened.

Like they didn’t take your heart with them.

Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it, please give it a like and reblog!! <3

Azriel Tags

@serxndipity-ipity-blog / @erencvlt / @azswife / @lili-of-the-wildfire / @dreaming-unafraid / @dr4g0ngirl / @coconut-dreamz / @lilah-asteria / @a-frog-with-a-laptop / @whevegvekage / @weasleyreidstyles / @hayrunnwr / @fhgsvnh / @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson / @backstagepaige / @ntimacy / @whatsupb18 / @moonfawnx / @mybigboimork / @cherryjain17 / @isabella-bby / @i-love-your-shadows-baby / @louvmars / @katiebethx / @blitz-fall / @thot4ellie / @thezoddfather / @tequilya / @azrielsshadows42 / @pruvii / @wolfbc97 / @hpforever / @amanduh20

[agirlwithglam]

Do you ever feel sick and don't feel like doing anything when the day before you told yourself you were going to do a glow up, live always the best ecc..?

yes definitely! unless i'm actually sick and incapable of doing anything, i will at least try. you didn't ask for advice, but here we go anyways. when i feel like that, heres a few things i do:

how to do things when you don't feel like doing them: (from personal experience)

believe that you can do anything. dont roll your eyes at me! dont skip this part either. this is the main point that gets me going every single time. i truly believe that i can do anything, that i am capable of literally anything that i want to achieve. if i want it, i will have it. that is the first mindset you must have when it comes to this.

start small/ make it fun. yes, ofc i said this. if you can't do a full 1 hour workout, do some pushups/squats/lunges and go for a bike ride or a walk with a friend. what i do when im going bike riding with a friend is we go to a mall and buy drinks there! so make it fun! adding friends to whatever you need to do certainly makes it fun. another thing you can do is if you need to read, you can create a cosy spot in your room with scented candles and a little snack and everything and sit and read there. just the idea of it gets me excited!

treat yourself like a project/ robot. now THIS is something that has certainly gotten my some discipline. we as humans have emotions and feelings and moods. sometimes we don't wanna do stuff, and we actually cave into that. if you promised yourself that you would change your life, switch off your emotions and moods. treat yourself like a robot or an "apprentice" that you're training to become the best.

reward yourself! so you can either reward the action (like reading or studying) or the outcome (like finishing a book or getting a high mark on a test). decide what works the best for you. example: you don't wanna study? you can either a) reward yourself for studying with some free time with friends or watching your fav show or b) you can reward your self by the score you get on the test (ex if you got higher than 80%= a certain thing on your wish list, above 90%= a better thing on your wish list, 100%= the thing you've wanted for ages) you don't wanna read? you can either.. a) reward yourself for reading for x amount of minutes or b) you can reward yourself for finishing a book in a certain amount of time.

alter egosss. i know, i mention this quite often, but trust me this actually gives such a burst of emotion! embody someone else/ a different version of you that can best handle the situation. im gonna make a whole post on alter egos soon cus i mention it in a lot of my posts.

EDIT:

Please remember that if ur actually sick or genuinely feeling really low, remember to rest!! Remember to take time to relax and slow down. Take care of yourself honey <3

thats it for now! i hope this helped <3

btw heres a big master-post to how to get things done when you dont want to (not by me)

[velovw]

How would OW characters love you?

(Ft. Reaper, Genji, Ramattra, Hanzo, Venture and Cassidy)

A/N: It's been quite a while, but I'm happy to share a little thing I've written.

Reaper

At first, Gabriel would refuse the idea of being in love. There was no way the thing he had become was deserving of love - nor did you deserve to be with anything like him. The confession would probably come from you, or the feelings you two have for each other would simply be locked away and forgotten with time. Unsure touches, hesitancy in communication would plague your relationship early on, leading to frustrating fights and time spent apart.

Gabriel had spent so long being Reaper, that he had forgotten how to treat another gently, softly. Years of being one of Talon’s obedient and ruthless weapon left him scarred, almost a husk of the man he one day was. Patience, lots of it, would be needed to build a healthy relationship with him. With time, he would slowly start to mimic the actions you did to him - learning from you on how to love and be loved - this could lead to Gabriel learning to love you just the way you want him to.

Not big on romantic gestures, and doesn’t like PDA. He has an underlying fear that if anyone were to find about his weak spot for you, it would mean harm your way.

Genji

A cupid 's arrow.

It would not take him long to recognize the emotions he was experiencing, as the excitement and exhilaration of a new love were familiar to him due to his youth. The anxiety and giddy feelings were difficult to overlook or ignore. He would not hesitate to express his feelings, as he was quick at noticing if someone reciprocated his affections based on their reactions to his affections. He was accustomed to this aspect of a relationship and would confidently touch and remain close to the person he was interested in whenever possible.

Wouldn’t be able to hide your relationship, almost always bringing you up in a conversation. Excitedly calling you his partner.

Due to his past, Genji would have an underlying anxiety about performing well as a partner. He was good at sweet talk, enough to make your heart flutter - but when it came down to serious conversations and fights, he would almost shut down. In the past, whenever these things happened, he would simply dump his past partners and move on - but he didn’t want to do that now. So he would be awkward, asking you what he could do to amend the wrongs and fix the situation. He would heavily depend on you to guide him in that way.

Ramattra

Love? How futile.

He had no time for such weak emotions, no time to spend worrying over your safety when you were a human - the kind he hated with his very being. No. Ramattra only spent his attention and utmost care towards the cause he believed in.

Or that's what he desperately wanted to believe.

Every word, every moment would be recorded through his optics and stored forever in his hard-drive. Ramattra’s touches sometimes felt… ghostly. As if he was afraid of breaking you. But he was always sure to impose his threatening aura around strangers.

But the amount of stress his system felt when he saw you in the middle of the battlefield, how he was reluctant to end your life right where you stood, proved it all to him that he was *wrong*. Ramattra would take what felt like a lifetime to confess, seeing you sick and injured pushed him to it - the reminder of your mortality severely affecting him. Would try to do everything at once one day, showcasing his innocent and lack of experience in *love*.

A silent reminder of your importance.

Hanzo

Throughout the most part of Hanzo's life, there were only two things he felt the most. The bitter regret and the pain of tomorrow. Losing everything came at a great cost and it shined clearly when you met Hanzo for the first time, when you tried to befriend him - the look in his eyes. Hanzo would avoid you emotionally once he feels… different. Part of him knows what he feels but another one denies it with all of his strength. Not for pride, simply because he's afraid of losing once again.

A wall to talk to. His indifference at the start would drive you crazy, driving you away until he finally realizes how much more empty he feels with your absence. Even so, does a small act of servitude by giving you your favorite food - a small attempt to see if you still care for him. Just enough so he can *try* and allow himself to feel the gentle feeling of love.

Small smiles your way, brushing your hand with his while passing by. All small but mean so, so much for Hanzo. There is no shyness, just gentleness, and no fear of showcasing such feelings in front of others.

Venture

Spending most of their life researching and excavating did really not leave any space for romance. Venture would be quick to accept the feeling, the rush of adrenaline and giddy feeling quickly taking over their mind as they realized they liked you. It would be obvious to anyone around them. The way their eyes would be searching for you in the room, quickly asking someone if they've seen you and when they do finally see you - the biggest smile they can muster.

Your name would be mentioned by them every chance they get.

A confession would take mere days, and if you weren't totally sure about them - they'd at least hope you'd let them take you out on dates so you can get to know each other better. Small trinkets of their affection would be given to you, crystals and rocks being the main source of it, secretly hoping you'd try and find the meaning of them.

Their only flaw is being overly excited about the feeling, sometimes overly romanticizing you and getting disappointed when you don't reach their standards.

Cassidy

Smooth.

Cassidy would recognize the blush that would dust his cheeks when you were around, how he seemed to want to impress and sweet talk you. That would be his way of gaining your favor slowly, calling you sweet nicknames and trying to charm you with his words. A small brush of his shoulders on yours, opening doors for you and tipping his hat when he passes by - all small acts that are meant to sweep you off of your feet.

A relationship would bloom slowly, as he would like to ride out the early fluttering feeling of love. Going through all the small showcases such as holding your hand, gifting you something meaningful before taking you out on a date and asking you two to finally be oficial. To everyone else around you, it was clear that Cassidy was courting you - and no one else dared to attempt anything. Whispers of his past holding them back on doing so.

Cassidy’s flaw would be being too warm or too cold. Either giving you hurtful but helpful advice, or comforting and unhelpful ones. It would solely depend on his mood, but you can always tell when he doesn't really wanna make decisions. Sometimes he just wants to exist, to let himself breath without any worries.

[plussizeficchick]

His Favorite Girl | Enji Todoroki x Chubby!Reader feat. Shoto Todoroki

Summary; Shoto Todoroki is mean.

A big, stupid mean jerkface.

Basically, Shoto is acting like an ass and it leaves you feeling bad, luckily, his daddy Enji knows how to treat a girl like you right ;)

(Warnings: age gap(Enji is 46, reader and Shoto are 23)cheating, mean!Shoto, ooc! Enji(he’s literally so sweet) P in V, cunnilingus, squirting)

You honestly don’t know how it got to this point.

It feels as though a second ago, your heart was torn in two. As though you’d never allow yourself to fall in love again, prepared to spend the remainder of your days with a pet cat or two as your sole company.

Now. Now you think you’ve never truly been in love until this point.

Shoto was the first boy that ever truly liked you back. You remember the day that you confessed, you swore that you’d tease him about the cute blush that spread across his face for the rest of your lives and that you’d always be there for each other.

And it was cute, the puppy love, the hot sex in varying public spaces. He wasn’t a bad lover, per se. He wasn’t like other guys your age who couldn’t be asked with making you cum, and while you may have wanted more from him, he was really the only relationship you’d known.

Sometimes though, sometimes he could be real mean.

Maybe it was because his dad took an unusual liking to you, always offering you to stay for dinner, offering an internship at his agency or a recommendation to one of your choosing. He was always so supportive of you, anytime you’d make an achievement he was there.

Great job, sweetheart.

You need anything, honey?

Just wanna take good care of my favorite girl.

Since fucking when did you guys get so close? It grated on Shoto’s nerves. How close you were to his dad. And it bothered him how easy it was for his dad to sing your praises yet it took him years to do the same with Shoto. It didn’t help that anytime he brought you home it was like you spent more time with his father than him. The only time he had you to himself was when he was fucking you loud enough for his father to hear.

Shoto was pissed and if he can’t hurt his dad, then he’ll hurt you.

— —

Enji doesn’t know when it started.

At first, he thought your relationship with his son was good. You both were different, but as they say, opposites attract.

He was turning over a new leaf. He didn’t want to control his son’s love life in the same way his was controlled and he thought you were good for him, you were bubbly and sweet yet you were quick to call him out on his shit when the situation deemed necessary.

He had originally asked you to intern at his agency so that you and Shoto could work together, and after seeing you in action firsthand, he knew he had made the right choice.

So when? When did he just say fuck all and fell in love with you?

If he was honest, he doesn’t know when, maybe he always had been. You were just everything Shoto’s mother wasn’t. You were soft, so fucking soft. A walking temptation. You always wore the skimpiest tops, breasts practically spilling over the top. You wore cute thigh highs that had a little pudge peeking over the top. The tightest fucking sundresses that pressed against the chub of your tummy, hugged the curve of your ass. Whenever you’d greet him, you’d give him a firm, warm squeeze with the words Good to see you again, Enji falling from your plump lips. You always smelled so fucking good.

He wanted you, bad. And the fact that you were so insistent on spending time together under the guise of “bonding” wasn’t working in his favor.

— —

It was a bit difficult to pinpoint when Shoto’s change in behavior started. He’d always been frigid, but recently he’s been downright cold.

He doesn’t offer much aftercare afterwards, not that he knew how to provide much to begin with, but he’d at least hold you afterward.

Now, he just turns over and picks up his phone, leaving you to fend for yourself. And while Shoto hoped that this would deter you from wanting to be around him, it just pushed you further into his father’s arms.

Unbeknownst to him, after your sessions, his dad would be in the kitchen, plate of food and your favorite drink already prepared for you to try. And while you feel embarrassed about what Enji might’ve heard, he never makes you feel uncomfortable around him. You’d even started picturing him while his son was balls deep in your cunt.

— —

It all comes to a head when Shoto leaves after another round. He doesn’t offer much of an explanation and it’s when Enji sees you tear up in front of him that he decides enough is enough.

“Am I not pretty, Enji?” You practically blubber to him. Through your tears you confide in him that a friend of yours saw Shoto cozying up to Momo, one of the more slim-bodied girls at your university. You had noticed Shoto’s interest in her, but he’d assured you that he only had eyes for you.

What a load of shit.

And Enji tells you as much, tells you that you didn’t need Shoto, that you were smart, kind and beautiful, gorgeous even and that he wishes he had met you when he was younger. Maybe then he’d have been married to someone he actually liked.

And he doesn’t realize he’s told you as such until he feels you press a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips. You sniffle, the drying tear tracks trailing down your chubby cheeks only somehow adding to your beauty.

You were too precious. Much too precious for Todoroki men.

Unfortunately for you, it’s a known fact that Todoroki men ruin everything they touch. However, Enji has plans to ruin you in a different way.

— —

You’ve never been with anyone as big as Enji. At a staggering 6’5, almost 300 pounds, the man exuded dominance and you’d be lying if it didn’t have your pussy quaking in anticipation.

While you’ve witnessed him take down enemies in a downright merciless fashion, the way he was taking care of you, pressing soft, wet kisses to your plush body, sucking hickies into the soft skin. The way he takes his time, checking to ensure you’re feeling good has you wondering why you were even upset in the first place.

And when he finally presses his lips to where you need him most, you’re crying at the pleasure. He hums around your nub, flicks his tongue and sucks up your juices like he’s starving. And he is! He’s starved himself of your touch, of you, for too long. If his son doesn’t know what to do with a smart, beautiful, fascinating woman, he’ll just have to show him.

It doesn’t take long before you reach your high, Enji’s name falling off your lips like a prayer as your head falls back against the arm of the couch.

He works you through it, slowly easing a finger followed by another into your wet heat. You gasp at the intrusion, his fingers feeling thicker than Shoto’s cock and the thought has you wondering how huge he must be if he’s stretching you so well with just his fingers. And almost as if he read your mind, Enji reaches down to free himself from the confines of his sweatpants. He didn’t bother wearing a shirt, wanting to feel comfortable in his home and had omitted boxers for the same reason, thus causing his cock to slap up against his abdomen, a bit of pre leaking from the tip.

You could feel yourself salivating and it isn’t until you feel him squeezing at your love handles that you tear your eyes away from the sight. “Soon, sweet girl. Right now, daddy needs to feel you, okay?” He coos against your lips. You peck his lips before spreading your legs a bit wider, inviting the hulking man in.

He lets out a breath, the sight of your sopping cunt enough to push him to edge. But this isn’t about him. It’s about you.

His favorite girl.

He truly doesn’t know when the infatuation with you started and he doesn’t know if it’d ever end, but what he does know is that there’s no going back for him.

He feels you wiggling underneath him, coaxing him to fuck you and it isn’t until he hears you murmur how much you need him, how long you’ve needed him that he finally pushes in.

He’s massive. Truly the biggest you’ve ever had and somehow he’s the softest you’ve ever been with, nuzzling his nose against your chubby cheeks, kissing away your tears and whispering praises of how you're taking him so well, so deep. You're creaming around him, a white ring building at the base of his cock and that just makes him fuck you harder, eager to see his seed spill from your cunt.

You’re both close, so incredibly close you can practically taste the orgasm on the others tongue. It’s when he moans into your mouth for you to please cum for him that you do, a choked sob echoing from your chest that you squirt all over his cock, drenching him in your release.

Your orgasm triggers his and before long his cock is pulsing, his hot seed spilling into your cunt, painting your walls white. He presses wet kisses trailing from your lips to your neck as he fills you up. His knees almost buckle the way you’re milking him and when he’s finally finished, he slowly pulls out, his cum gushing from your abused cunt. It’s while you’re both in the afterglow of your orgasm, pressing sweet kisses against each other that you both hear the door slam shut.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?! Are you serious? My fucking dad?” Shoto exclaims. You’re too busy pressing little kisses against Enji’s biceps to pay him any attention. “Calm now, son. It isn’t her fault-” Enji doesn’t get a chance to explain before Shoto directs his anger towards him. Only when you hear Shoto accuse him of taking advantage of you, do you finally break out of your haze. “He didn’t take advantage of me, Shoto, he showed me everything that YOU can’t do for me. So you can go back to fucking Momo and bitch about your problems to her.” You hiss at him.

Shoto’s stunned and Enji’s impressed. He chances a glance at his son who can only muster a half-hearted glare before stomping away to his room.

The room is silent for a moment as the weight of what’s transpired settles. It’s soon interrupted by the kisses you resume before you were caught and Enji feels a genuine smile creep onto his face. He knows things will probably never be the same between him and his son and while he knows that should trouble him, he can’t bring himself to worry about it right now.

Because Enji has denied himself of something good for too long and if his son doesn’t like it, well, he can just ask for forgiveness later. And even if he doesn’t get it, Enji doesn’t care.

Cause he’ll have you.

His favorite girl.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon

[tarotwithavi]

♂ Mars & your anger

Mars represents your action and energy. Its a firey planet and can be used to consider how you express and deal with your anger

These posts are general and won't resonate 100% because we have to consider other aspects too

This is for entertainment purpose only.

♂ Mars in Aries/1st house

The type to express their anger with their whole body. Fuming with anger is literally made for them. The type to cause a scene when angry and is very expressive of their anger. Gets very aggressive.

♂Mars in Taurus/2nd house

The type to calculate why they are feeling this emotion. Likes to wait to get the whole situation before taking any action. The type to fight for what's their. Gets annoyed when someone touches what's their.

♂Mars in Gemini/3rd house

The type to not show their anger and keep it inside them but in reality wants to leach out on you and scratch your face. Likes to mask out their emotions and forces themselves to believe they are alright.

♂Mars in Cancer/4th house

The type to cry when annoyed or angry. Probably can't argue without crying and always seeking revenge. The type to silently wish for your downfall and cuss your whole bloodline. Looks like an angry kitten.

♂Mars in leo/5th house

The type to socially humiliate you and the type to show the whole world what you did wrong. Probably becomes a big bully and like to pick on you. The type to go for your head and pull your hair.

♂Mars in virgo/6th house

The type to get defensive but also goes back and forth if they are angry or not and tries to find the roots of their anger. Probably the type to get physical in an argument. The type to give you silent treatment.

♂Mars in libra/7th house

The type to not realize that they are mad at someone. Have to decide if they wanna be angry or not. Likes to fight and then make up. Like k*ll and make up ehehe. Likes getting into arguments.

♂Mars in scorpio/8th house

Self destructive anger. The type to destroy everything that's comes in their way or is in front of them. Perfect example would be how morally gray characters express their anger. The type to emotional blackmail.

♂Mars in Sagittarius/9th house

The type to blow up all of a sudden. You won't even know what they are angry about unless they tell you what you did room. Reminds me of lines "only those who cannot express themselves intelligently would to such crude substitutions in vocabulary".

♂Mars in Capricorn/10th house

The type to destroy things when angry and prepare a PowerPoint on why they are right and what you did wrong. The type to become fierce like a stray cat. Only believes evidence. People fear their anger.

♂Mars in Aquarius/11th house

To be honest I think these people rarely get mad or when they do it's because of their friends or society? The type to start a revolt. Probably becomes so demanding and dominant that you would want to quit.

♂Mars in Pisces/12th house

The type to get angry on little things or on a completely different topic. The type to wait for the perfect time to strike and sometimes let's karma do his job. An undercover villain who plans for your whole life to collapse.

Masterlist

[herejusttosufferalong]

A bit strange writing this, I am usually more of a silent observer than anything, mostly because I don’t usually “get close” to famous people in any way shape or form, so this whole situation and those two are weird for me. I am a skeptic and realist, so I don’t read into things that don’t concern me, but I am also a big romantic (contrary I know) so seeing those two together in interviews really made me invested in this situation, against all reason and instincts. All that said I am not easily excitable, I need proof and facts(which there are few in this situation but still), and proof is in N/L body language, gazes, occasional verbal slips, that are decidedly not platonic. It’s in how miserable and detached he is in every situation where the adjacent is involved (and presence of one would have been a deal breaker for me in any other scenario). A little explanation of my position in this.

Yesterday post, which created so many different reactions in this WH, for me, was obviously N reaction to all the hate L was receiving in his groomers’ post (which is absolutely disgusting), it is obvious that N is incredible protective of him. It actually feels a bit sassy to me, like that comment about his eye color “they are dark blue, which is a remarkable shade of blue”, as if she is saying “oh! you don’t like him? well I do! he is my friend actually!.”  (And before someone says that she is too sweet for sass like that: “Why did she wear a bra?!” “Because I liked it!”) It also should be obvious that even if everything is already resolved between them we are not going to get any conformation of it anytime soon, certainly not like this, not on SM, be realistic people. The reason for my bringing seemingly yesterdays’ news is because I just saw it again, a post not a story and the writing struck an idea in my mind.

“I thought I’d already shared this but I hadn’t so here you go now it’s all yours”

It obviously can mean nothing more than it seems to be, which is an excuse to post a picture and remind “fans” that it is her friend and costar they are hating on, and if they expect her to approve of it they can dream on.

The other one, is so far reached I am surprised that it even came to my mind. The wording is just so interesting if we read into it. I saw some putting negative meaning in them, like her letting him go. But if we believe that these past few weeks N has been hinting at something with her SM, and that it was in relation to L, can it not be another hint? “I thought I’d already shared this but I hadn’t so here you go now it’s all yours” - I thought I’d already told this, that it is HIM, but there still some questions and doubts so here you go, a lovely picture of us in our romantic roles smiling and looking happy, it’s yours now, so enjoy.

Obviously we don’t know, most likely never will know, what is happening bts, the reasons for their actions are their own and so they should be. We are not entitled to their minds and lives, but it’s interesting to speculate sometimes, respectfully. Love your blog, I didn’t expect to find a space of such rationality in the delulu land of shipping, especially regarding real people. 

💜🥃

[barefoothighlander]

Omg hi! Here's an idea: ghost with a touch starved s/o that doesn't like to be touched. Knowing ghost isn't the most tactile person either, I'm curious as to how they'd manage to get used to each other etc

this is a little too relatable... anyways, here you go

warnings: none, gn pronouns

Ghost was very selective about who was allowed to get close, let alone touch him, it stems from his training most of the hands raised against him being from enemies.

He wasn't sure how to be affectionate with you at first, flinching every time you touched him, apologizing for moving away.

It was almost a relief that you understood, certain parts of your body you didn't like being touched outside of specific situations.

It came naturally to the two of you, he'd stand close when you spoke, you could practically feel the heat from his skin when he stood in front of you.

He loved when you'd lean back against him while he stood, it made him feel like he could protect you without caging you in any way, your frame dwarfed by his as you rested against his chest.

It was rare that you'd hold hands but not unheard of, sometimes reaching for his on a walk or if you felt nervous, needing some sort of contact to ground you.

Ghost isn't a big cuddler but he loves sleeping next to you, feeling the mattress dip under your weight as you both tuck in for the night, he enjoyed the small things you'd do like leaning your body closer to him or placing your arm next to his as you slept.

He didn't need to be touching you to convey his love, letting his actions speak for themselves, he loved to cook for you or surprise you with small gifts when he returned from deployment.

One morning he was thinking about how different you were from other couples, "Have we ever hugged?" "What?" "I don't think we've ever hugged" "That can't be true" It was true, over the span of your relationship you had never given the other a normal hug.

Even without some sort of contact the two of you were always an arm's reach away.

He'd gently rest his hand on your lower back to direct you in crowded places or extend an arm in front of you to shield you from things.

If you were watching television you'd rest your legs over his lap or you'd prop your elbow up next to his, letting your arms brush against each other.

Lots of forehead touches in between small kisses.

There were a few times that he'd wake up with your arm thrown over his chest, your body turning in its sleep and he'd run his fingers along your skin

He was apprehensive at first but now he loves when you take his mask off, your soft fingers brushing across his face.

You pretend to be mad every time he smacks your ass when you walk by and he finds it hilarious.

He'd let you trace his tattoos while you sat.

He'd crouch behind you and rest his chin on your shoulder, his stumble rubbing against your cheek.

Over time he grew more used to small touches of affection, your fingers threading through his hair when he'd rest his head on your lap.

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 12. Between Us

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 2879 words. Author's Note: 2 parts away to the end! I'm super excited for what is to come.

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Dinner continued as night fell over the elegant panorama. Musicians continued to play all night long, waiters walked around the tables with trays laden with appetizers and people chatted pleasantly surrounded us. I was eating delicious food, drinking expensive champagne, and I was sitting between two super attractive men, what more could I ask for? Definitely a good night. His mother would sometimes give me uncomfortable looks, but Sukuna would scold her every time he caught her doing it. Choso would get me to talk about my plans once I stopped working for her brother. And Yuuji… I didn't want to talk to him after exposing myself like that in front of his family. I knew he was a big gossip, but I never thought he would reveal something like that to his parents. 

When dinner was over, his parents said goodbye to everyone and went back to their house. Or I rather say, mansion. I had discovered that the Itadori's owned a large coffee company that was distributed internationally. Now I understood why Sukuna was so spoiled, he has always had everything he wants from the cradle. Good thing Choso and Yuuji didn't turn out like him. 

“I think we are ready to leave, right, Choso?” Yuuji asked the middle brother before pulling him by the arm to the car. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna said before pulling him towards him by the hoodie's cap. Yuuji replied to the sudden movement. “We already knew you were a shitty gossip, but today you went too far,” I scolded him while forcing him to stand in front of me. 

“Stop it, Sukuna!” Choso exclaimed to make me let go of his little brother. 

“Shut up! You know perfectly well that what he did is not right,” Sukuna barked. “Apologize to Y/n for what you said.” 

That action coming from Sukuna healed wounds in me that I didn't know were still there. I think it was the first time someone defended me like that. I was so used to always fighting for myself that I had forgotten how it felt to have someone come to my defense.  I don't know if he was doing it out of wanting to discipline his younger brother or to protect me, it was still comforting to see him act so concerned about the situation. I felt safe next to him even though he could act like a monster at times.

“I'm sorry for saying what Naoya did to you in front of everyone. It won't happen again,” Yuuji apologized, avoiding my gaze, ashamed of his actions. 

“You better keep your word,” I told him so. Sukuna would let him go. 

After a quiet ride home, Sukuna wished me goodnight and we both headed to our respective rooms. I took off the cute little girl costume I had put on as I recalled the intimate moment I had shared with Choso and how Sukuna kept nagging his family so he could have a quiet dinner. I sighed tiredly before lying face down on the big white bed. I shoved my face between the goose down pillows as I realized I had spent the whole night fantasizing about two different men. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” I scolded myself. 

Tonight I confirmed that my feelings for Choso were still there, but now they coexisted with the feelings I had for Sukuna, his own brother. What I was feeling was not right, but what could I do about it? I couldn't date both of them to find out whom I liked more. I couldn't play with them like they were plastic dolls. I also didn't want to make a pros and cons list, that seems tacky to me. I looked at the clock, it was 11 o'clock at night. I was sure Nobara was still awake. 

“Well, well… Finally, someone deigns to call me,” Nobara answered the video call. She had her hair up, a mask on her face and a loose-fitting sleep shirt. She was getting ready to go to sleep, he had caught her at a good time.

“I know, I've been busy,” I replied embarrassed. “But now I'm in the middle of a dilemma.” 

“Oh, finally, some tea!” Nobara replied. 

I told him everything that my heart wanted to let out for months. How tender, mysterious and attractive Choso was and how handsome, strong and disciplined Sukuna is. About how much I wanted to go out with Choso to coffee shops and art museums. About how much I wanted Sukuna to give me a clear sign that he liked me as a girlfriend and not as a hamster he had to protect from hawks. The mixture of love and confusion surprised Nobara with every sentence he blurted out. 

“I like them both, and I have no idea what to do,” I finished my confession. 

“Taylor Swift could write a song about it,” Nobara joked before pulling a cheeto out of the blue bag and eating it. “I don't understand why you're racking your brains when the answer is so obvious.” 

“Is it?” I asked confused. 

“Duh. I'm team Choso to death,” I answered. 

“Why?” 

“Do I really have to say it?” Nobara looked at me as if I was stupid. I just kept quiet. She sighed in exasperation and sat up straight to speak seriously. “Choso is the only one who likes you back, and you really like him too. Sukuna only likes you because you respect him a lot and not because you really want to go out with him,” she replied wisely. 

“I see…” I whispered as I realized it was true. 

When I think of Sukuna, I think of his sportswear, how great he looks boxing and how strong he looks against his opponents, but I also think of the thousands of flaws he has. He is an angry, spoiled and rude man. I could have disciplined Yuuji tonight, but he could become a thousand times worse if he set his mind to it. Even though I felt safe with him, I don't know him like I'd like to.  

“Besides, Sukuna may not be like Naoya, but it sounds like he's similar,” Nobara added. 

“You're right,” I sighed before closing my eyes. 

Since that night, I decided to stay sentimentally away from Sukuna. Every time I saw him, I thought about him with a cold head. I saw beyond my rose-colored glasses that made me drool for him. We still trained, ate and spent time together, but I avoided him at times when we could be completely alone. As the days went by I saw him less as a perfect man and more as a cranky friend. 

A month had passed since then and the big fight against Aoi Todo was just around the corner. The entire team had traveled all the way to Rio de Janeiro for the big night that awaited us. Brazil gave us a warm welcome from the moment we arrived. Paparazzi, fans, and sponsors had been bombarding us with flashing lights and posters to autograph since we arrived at the airport. Team Black had finally arrived to rule the place.

Sukuna tried to go for my face as he did every training session. I evaded him with no trouble to land a hook to the liver that knocked him back a couple of steps. After months of exhaustive training, I had already learned Sukuna's pattern of moves. He always goes for the killing blow first, then low attacks and again, tries to knock me out. It's a pattern that repeats over and over again with a variation that occasionally catches me off guard. 

“Keep your guard up!” Gojo shouted at me from the side of the ring. 

I put my arms up to cover my face better. Yuuji and Nanami were watching us fight with Gojo. We were waiting patiently at the UFC offices to be called for the official weigh-in. We knew perfectly well that Sukuna was at his ideal weight, but we had to find out if Aoi Todo was. Being the heavyweight champion wanting to compete for the light heavyweight title, it meant he had to lose at least 22 pounds for the fight to be held fairly. 

Sukuna sent me to the corner with a single jab. I tried to recover, but he was already on top of me, busting me with punches until I reached my limit. I could only keep my guard up until he got tired and opened a door of opportunity. What I didn't count on was that I got a hook to the tit. 

“Oh, son of a bitch! I screamed in pain while I pushed him to let myself rest for a second. 

“I wanted to hit you in the stomach, but since you are smaller, I didn't hit you where I wanted to,” he explained with an evil smile. “That’s some bullshit,” I thought.  

“Sukuna Ryomen, you can go to the office,” a UFC assistant announced. 

“Saved by the bell,” Sukuna said before taking off his gloves. I flipped him off as I took off one of mine. 

The entire team made their way to the office where the official judges and the referee who would be in charge of the fight were waiting for us. The process was simple. They would just weigh the fighters, recite the official rules to both of them, and we could go back to the hotel to prepare for the weigh-in. We had done this several times before, there was nothing to be surprised about. 

“Hello, Sukuna,” Yuki Tsukumo greeted us with a big smile as soon as we entered the office. 

Sukuna, Yuuji and I froze when we saw her next to Aoi Todo. This had to be a fucking sick joke. She was the coach of our new opponent? This only meant bad news. Sukuna completely ignored her to greet the judges, referee and Todo. 

“Good to see you again, Snake,” Yuki greeted me directly while Aoi was weighed on a professional scale. 

“Why didn't you tell me you were Aoi's coach?” I asked her while the judges were taking the necessary measurements for the data sample. 

“Was I supposed to?” She asked pretending to be confused. 

It was Sukuna's turn. He took off his shirt and shoes to weigh himself. I hated to admit it, but it was an amazing sight. Even though I had seen it several times before, I couldn't get used to it. I tried to look away so that my cupid thoughts wouldn’t take possession of my body. 

“How is your brother?” Yuki asked him to obviously annoy him. Sukuna gave him a whiplash with his gaze for even having the nerve to mention his little brother. 

“He's fine,” I answered for him so he wouldn't get in trouble in front of the judges. “Great, I'd say,” I said with a mischievous smile. 

After the judges recited the rules and both fighters agreed, both teams left the office with a tense air following us closely. Team Black began to leave the scene to return to the hotel after an exhaustive morning training and Todo’s gym went to the gym.  

“I hope we have a good fight!” Todo said to Sukuna while shaking his hand. 

Todo was friendlier than I imagined. He had a nice smile all the time, was kind to everyone and had an overall good vibe, unlike his coach. Now I understood why Toji Fushiguro wanted to leave the stage, so fighters like Sukuna or Todo could shine. Todo's team continued on their way to the gym, but Yuki stayed behind. 

“It's good to see you again, how long has it been since we've seen each other? 2 years?” Yuki asked him, ignoring the rest of her team to focus on Sukuna. She wanted to provoke him, I was sure of that. 

“Why don't you go ahead? I have to talk to her,” I said to Sukuna as I stepped between them to distance them. 

“Don't do anything stupid,” Sukuna whispered to me before walking away from us. 

“I would really appreciate it if you would leave my athlete alone,” I said to Yuki once my team had left the hallway. 

“I don't think it's a sin to want to say hello to him,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to greet you after what you did,” I said. 

“So he told you. Did you really believe him?” Yuki asked me in disbelief. 

“Well, Sukuna's version makes you look like a gold digger and Choso's version makes you look like a whore, which one do you prefer?” I asked defensively. 

“I thought you would understand me. You know how hard it is to enter this world as a woman. I needed that job,” Yuki explained, making it clear that Sukuna's version of the story was the truth.

I knew better than anyone that the world of mixed martial arts was complicated for a woman to navigate in. There are perverts everywhere, the other fighters don't take you seriously and the coaches are harder on you. It's a world plagued by men who only see you as a small insignificant being, just because you can't compete directly against them. Women fighters have to work twice as hard as men to secure a place in the industry. 

“It's difficult but not impossible. Did you really have to pick on his brother to prove your worth? You only made yourself worse,” I asked, annoyed. 

“How sad to see you've changed, Snake,” Yuki sighed. “Who knew? One day you're on top and the next you're working for an idiot like Sukuna Ryomen. Weren't you supposed to hate fighters like him?” she said before wanting to withdraw from the conversation, but she was very wrong if she thought I would let her have the last word. 

“It's true that I hate fighters with massive egos like him, but I hate people like you even more,” I told him before following the path where my team had gone. 

“People like me?” Yuki wondered. 

“Bad and stupid,” I said without looking back. I hoped my point was clear.

I continued my way until I reached the reception. Sukuna was waiting for me in an armchair with his arms crossed while watching a TV in front of him, while the rest of the team was awaiting us at the van. “I thought he would go with the others.” 

“You didn't need to do that,” he told me once I got close to him. 

“It is, I can't let a piranha get in my pond,” I answered wisely. 

“Did you put her on her place?” Sukuna asked me. 

 “I insulted her in 4 different ways, what do you think?” I joked. 

“Good,” he said before getting up from the sofa. “I need a favor.”

Oh no, not again. It was the day before the fight, so I already knew what he was going to ask me. I wouldn't do it, not even if he threw me all his money. I was finally over him, I couldn't fall back into the void I worked so hard to escape from.

“I'm not going to fuck with you,” I told him directly. 

“I already knew that,” he replied. My eyebrow raised at that answer. 

“Yeah?”

“It's super obvious that you like Choso, and he likes you too,” he answered. I couldn't help but blush knowing that I was acting so obvious around him. “I need you to do me a favor with Yuuji.” 

I hadn't packed any cute outfit for the nightlife in Brazil, so I decided to wear jeans with a black fitted t-shirt, what I was supposed to wear for when we got back home. Sukuna told me that Yuuji loves to travel to Brazil for the food. So he asked me to join him for dinner while he does his good luck ritual with a prostitute Gojo got for him. 

“Are you ready to eat some good cuts of meat? I asked Yuuji coming out of the bathroom we shared. 

“Of course! I hope you have prepared your stomach because we are going to gain 5 pounds after this,” He said excitedly. 

We left the room to head towards the reception. While I was getting ready, he had made a list of all the restaurants he wanted to visit during the afternoon. We would start at a restaurant to eat picanha, then to an eatery to try feijoada, and finally we would look for some place that sold quindim or brigaidero. 

I listened to Yuuji talk about how delicious Brazilian food is as we rode down the elevator. When the doors opened, we were both shocked to see what was on the other side. There was a girl who looked very much like me in a little red fitted dress that left almost nothing to the imagination. She was not my clone exactly, but her hair, skin tone, face shape and body type were similar. We got out of the elevator and she walked in, greeting us in Portuguese.

“She looked just like you,” Yuuji said to me, still in shock. 

“Yeah…” I whispered impressed.

Next →

Masterlist.

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Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crowned-gemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @dorck26 @esposadomd

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Okay, so this request got inspired by your post of how the Mercs react to Y/N telling them they have PTSD. Not sure how the situations go but what about a hurt/comfort Mercs x Y/N when they unknowingly, or somehow, triggered Y/N’s trauma?

Y/N knows they didn’t mean it but it’s scares them because Y/N doesn’t breakdown like THAT. Y/N tells them it’s okay, although they are triggered they find comfort with the Mercs because they make them feel safe. Mercs just being there for them, listening, and like asks Y/N to let them know if they need anything.

(It’s not often I see these kinds of requests with x reader/y/n stuff, but your post did make me smile a bit as someone with PTSD)

I understand your point of view. Thank you, by the way. I feel very alone in my struggles and it’s nice to hear i’m not.

TF2 Mercs Scare Y/N With PTSD On Accident

Scout:

- Oh.. Fuck. Immediately goes into panic mode because he’s a very empathetic person. You can see it on his face as he struggles to hold it together. He knows freaking out will only make this worse. (He’s less stupid than you think.) Watching you cower and breathe heavily is breaking his heart. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that name.

- “Hey, whoa whoa, whoa, hey hey, relax. It— It was a different person! I was talking about someone different!” He pauses, trying to deduct a possible solution. The fact you’re telling him it’s fine is making him angry at himself. Why would he recklessly slip up like that in front of somebody so important?! He wants you to beat him up. “No, No. You need to like — beat the shit out of me for that. Don’t ever settle for less in a person. Like, actually, beat the shit out of me.”

- This is definitely causing some stares. Scout rarely at all takes accountability for his actions because of how on the defense he is. Seeing this side of him is uncanny. Scout takes you by the shoulders and pulls you into a big hug. Your face immediately meeting his chest. When he was a child, his mother would give him physical affection to subdue his panic attacks. This is the first thing that came to mind.

- “Easy, easy. Alright? That stupid shit won’t ever happen to you again. Not while I’m here.” He whispers in your ear. Running his fingers through your hair. Somehow, he comes rightly by his mother. He even forces himself to steady his breathing on behalf of you. He knows you’ll calm down eventually.

——————————————————————————-

Soldier:

- All it took was one disagreement. One. Single. Sideye from Soldier and you suddenly got transported into the past unwarranted. Your breathing became shallow and you felt like passing out. The impending doom was indescribable. At first you wanted to lash out and attack him for this. But Soldier quickly tilted his helmet up in alarm upon seeing your unexpected reaction. You had to kneel down.

- “Private?” He asked. His voice was more higher pitched than usual. The sight of somebody he loved breaking into pieces like janga blocks all so suddenly was shocking. He was briefly scolded and slapped to death by Medic for triggering your PTSD before, and you didn’t want that for him again. “It’s fine— I’ts fine—“ You said. “No, it fucking isn’t.” He answers.

- “It isn’t fine that you’re feeling this way. I’m going to go into your ear and fix that damn hippo campus or whatever, so help me god.” He said, his eyes full of despair as he knelt down beside you to hesitantly place a hand on your back and rub you. His answer was so unbelievably stupid you almost snapped out of it.

- “I’m sorry for glaring.” He said, sort of laughing at his own pettiness and shaking his head. He truly felt like gutting himself. As i’ve mentioned, Soldier knows full well what PTSD is. The world war did numbers on his comrades’ mental health. He’s seen people completely crumble under the weight of tragedy. “Sometimes it’s just the little things, isn’t it? One moment you’re in the present, and the next moment you stand on the hills of the battlefield overlooking the bloodshed, and you wonder: where the hell did we go wrong?”

- You sort of calm down at his attempt to soothe you. Crawling onto his lap and shoving your face into his uniform. Soldier allowed you to do this. A distant and exhausted look in his eye as he defeatedly fell back against the wall. “Did you feel that way in the war?” You mutter to him. Wondering where his knowledge came from.

- Soldier was still holding his rocket launcher in the other hand. He turned it to the side to examine it for a second. “Eh…” He muttered back. Noting the blood on the handle that was spilt earlier on the frontlines. “I’m just one of those war dogs whose mental strength rivals Zeno of citium himself, I guess.” He said sarcastically.

____________________________________________

Demoman:

- Immediately tries to distract you from the horrible things you begin to relive. Shoves you into your quarters and locks the door. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have liked this, but he’s made it clear to give you your space. You sit on the edge of your bed, unsettled, whilst he peaks out the blinds of your window.

- “Datse’ sum wee ass birds sittin ow on the tree out there. Look at em, bloody fat roosters dey are.” He says, as you look away at the ground. He notices your lack of attention and sighs. Taking an abundance of alcohol into his mouth. “Hey look, ye wanna know sumthin?” He points his flask at you. “Lemme tell you sumthin about explosives.”

- “Once a landmine explodes, kablooey. Thatse it. No goin’ back. But yer brain ain’t like that.” He tells you, pointing at your head. Frustratingly, you roll your eyes “Why’d you bring me in here, Demoman? And — thanks but my fucking wounds are unfixable.” Your tone sounds more annoyed than you’d like it to be. But you couldn’t help it right now, you felt like your body was attacking itself.

- “NAH. You ain’t. y’know why?” He knocked on his own head with his flask. “See this thing er’? this thing can mend itself. Unlike an arm or leg. OR AN EYE.” He made sure to put emphasis on that last part for some reason as he spoke it to the ceiling. Tavish still kept his respectful distance as he paced around the room. “Isn’t that just my luck? Enough about dat, tho. Look at ye! Just look at ye! You’re here. Despite those aforementioned metaphorical landmines goin off! Isn’t that crazy? There’s so much space in between what happened and whatse to come. Dont be impatient with yerself. I’ll follow you through this dense forest. Okay? You go there and then you’re there, and once you’re there, you’re there and then you’re there. Y’know? I’ll get you there.” He’s clearly drunk but this somehow helped. You watch him clear his throat and unsteadily sit down in a chair. Sitting in silence with you.

—————————————————————————

Engineer:

- Engineer is an adult. He has (mostly) mastered the art of keeping calm on behalf of a panicking person’s sake. “Hey now…” You hear that thick, creamy drawl behind you. What had triggered you was a loud noise in the server room followed by the crashing of metal echoing off the walls. Engineer happened to be nearby. “That was all me, sorry for the scare pardner.” He tilts his hard hat in respect. He must’ve heard your yelp.

- As you sat cowering against those old computers, tears flooding down your cheeks, Engineer approached you like he would an injured stray kitten. Slowly kneeling down, a refusal to make any sudden movements. His wrench in the other hand had a dent in the adjustable jaw. “Was tryin’ to tinker with somethin’ and some shit fell onto the grating. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you.” He said. Tilting your chin up to admire your face. Even as you were caked in tears and sweat, he still found profound beauty in this.

- He was making an effort to lie. The wrench had traces of dark red blood on it. Your eyes peaked over his shoulder and you caught a glimpse of an enemy spy’s shoes just behind the mess of computers. Engineer was a good liar. If it weren’t for the dead spy beyond him then you would’ve believed his comforting lie. It wasn’t the spy you were scared of though.. The noise did it all. “Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you.” He whispered again. “It’s alllllll in the past.”

- voooooOoshh. Yeah, figures :/

- “Would you excuse me for a sec, darlin?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, whipping around as he stood up and bitch slapped that same enemy spy with his wrench. Watching him slam against the machinery and lie bleeding on the ground. “Dead ringer, seriously?” He asked. “je te déteste.” (I fucking hate you.) The enemy spy choked out. You felt slightly better afterwards. Knowing Engineer would be able to protect you before anything could truly occur.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- Offers to beat the shit out of anybody who triggers your ptsd. TO DEATH. He comes pretty close to doing so a bunch of times. Scout had unintentionally done this and he couldn’t walk for a week afterwards. Heavy was pretty certain he crushed some of his spine. So imagine his dismay when your vacant eyes couldn’t leave a poster on his wall. He knew that stare anywhere — in fact — he had that disconnected stare before.

- Heavy snapped you out of your momentary dissociation by ripping the poster down and crumbling it up. “Heavy did not like that book anyway…” He said, frowning as he threw it away in the trash bin next to his bed. “Come. Do not look at things that remind you. Not good for health.” He beckoned his large hand over to his bed and you laid down next to him. Instinctively cuddling into his chest to try and even out your breathing, But your agony was evident. He could feel your heart practically bursting out of your chest.

- “fetal position.” He instructed you. You did so, hugging your entire body. It was then he took you into his arms and applied light pressure. He had learnt to do this from a Russian psychology paper. Your pain was quickly dying down after this. Who knew being squished to death would help so much? The lingering feelings of dread would remove themselves from you in record time. Normally it would be hours or even days. Every time this happens, he’ll use pressure therapy to aid you.

- If you dislike that type of stuff, he’ll read you a children’s book. For some reason those always helped him. Maybe even take you into the main lobby area to sit down with the boys and listen to their conversation. The white noise of their stupid conversations is distracting, and the presence of friends is always comforting.

——————————————————————————

Pyro:

- :((((((((((((( Looks completely fucking devastated.

- They’re quite reasonable. Immediately asks you what triggered you, and how they can keep you away from it. They’re patient and observant. Especially if you’re incapable of answering them. Their senses will eventually find the object, smell, or word, etc that had caused this in the first place. Silence to Pyro is always louder than words. They make quick work of the issue.

- They tell everybody on the team about this. (Which takes a while by the way because nobody can fucking understand them.) And go into huge detail about why they shouldn’t have/say certain things around you. Nobody’s allowed to rudely question them or else somebody’s belongings are going up in flames.

- Speaking of setting people on fire.. People aren’t allowed to call you a faker either. This happens way too often. How stupid can people truly get? Said people go missing after a week or so and the Tuefort police can never find the body. Every time this happens, you know who to blame. For some reason you also find out later down the line that several power classes were working in cooperation with Pyro’s murders. Thanks guys.

- If present in their room, they’ll bring a bunch of their plushies over to you and cover you in blankets. Watching old kid’s movies with you to make you feel better. This especially works well if you sfw age regress to cope with ptsd. Will 100% be your caregiver.

—————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- God dammit fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck why didn’t he just shut his big mouth and die god dammit fuck fuck fuck he wants to die FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK NOOO WHY DID YOU GO SILENT

- It was the way he said something that got you. It sounded too familar to you-know-whatsit. You were in his sniper nest when this happened. He took his eye from the scope to see you on the floor holding your chest and trying in vain to control the breathing issues you were encountering. “SsShit!” He hissed angrily at himself, getting up and sitting next to you on the floor. He didn’t even make a move to touch you. He knew how horrible things could feel in moments like these. It wasn’t until you returned the favor by leaning your head against him did he put his arm around you.

- “Sniper, I feel like throwing up..” You say, nausea symptoms setting in. He didn’t have any medicine with him other than painkillers, so he made room for you to lay your head on his lap. Putting his hand on your head. “Easy now. This’ll pass.” He whispered. It was moreso his crazy low voice that began calming you down. Jesus christ he was trying so hard not to blame himself right now.

- He was right though. It was important to believe him. This’ll pass too. It always does. You weren’t in that horrid space right now and the nest was dead silent minus the chirping of song birds outside. He remained on guard the entire time you rested on him. His eyes looking at the door, then the hole he peeped his gun through, then the door again.

- He said nothing the entire time. What was there to say? Your past had been eroded. He had no excuses nor complaints. Not even a single question. Sniper was purposefully making himself soundless to aid your recovery process. Every so often when you twitched, and started breathing heavier than normal, he’d rub your scalp in response. This is how he comforts you during a flashback most of the time. Allowing you the bliss of silence and touch.

—————————————————————————-

Medic:

- HUH???? Wait a second.. fast breathing, wanting to self harm, panicking like you were about to die, and other familiar symptoms? Oh. He knew right away what this was. Time to make sure.

- You were screaming in the corner of his lab, cowering and on the verge of pissing yourself. It was awful. It was god awful. Probably the worst one you’ve had this year. Heart palpitations and all. Your vision was blurry and you couldn’t focus. Medic knelt down in front of you with an incredibly serious expression across his face. Lifting his finger up and watching you — or at least you trying — to follow it. Some other mercs were nearby watching this go down in slight horror. They had no clue what you struggled with or why you were acting like this. You felt like you were surrounded by a bunch of idiots once again who were too stupid to fathom your experiences.

- “What’s wrong with Y/N, Doc?” Soldier asked. He had the faintest idea of what it was but he didn’t want to assume. “Hm.” Medic answered bluntly in response. He didn’t even look at soldier as he dismissed everybody with the aggressive shooing of his hand. Waiting until everybody left to talk to you.

- He took you gently by the shoulders. “Y/N, look at me.” He instructed. You thrashed a bit and struggled to do so. It was hard to not feel intimidated by all this. “The year is 1971. You’re you. You’re here. The stuff that happened, it happened a long time ago.” He said. When it didn’t ground you enough he made you repeat your age, and the date.

- “It’ll happen again!” You exclaim, “It’s happening again!” You scream in retaliation. Medic shook his head calmly. “No, it is not happening again. You have a brain injury mien schatz—“ He was cut off by your terrified yelling. You clung to him for dear life and desperation and he clung back just as hard. He was kind of thankful nobody was here to witness this.

- He only pulls away to take a deep breath and you instinctively mimicked him, holding it for a few seconds as he counted and then let go. You synced up your breathing with his and after what seemed like forever, the repeated breathing exercises were slightly helping. He had his latex glove on your chest the hold time to make sure you were doing it. Weakness took over you and you threw yourself into another hug. Wanting to be carried by him.

——————————————————————————-

Spy:

- Spy has flashbacks too but they’re less aggressive than yours. He had trained himself to stay composed by suppressing it, and he’d rather not make the same mistake with you. For a spilt second, one could easily mistake his stoic posture as you cried there in his chair as complete indifference. But he felt things far from that. You had dumped all this stuff onto him out of nowhere upon entering his quarters because you were sick of being quiet. It boiled over then and there like a volcano.

- “Hmph.. So it seems once again someone has been failed by a worthless system. Pour l'amour de Dieu.” (For god’s sake.) He angrily snuffed out his cigarette in his ash tray. Crushing it for good measures. His righteous anger was filling the entire room with dread. Spy wasn’t pleasant when he was mad. You made your posture smaller in an attempt to look innocent. You did not want to face his wrath.

- “What is this?” He asked you curiously. “It is not you I am angry at. It is the inept incompetence of those around you.” He sat in his chair adjacent from you. He wanted better for you. So much better. After a moment of silence and Spy rubbing his temples he finally spoke. “I have learnt.. Many languages. In none of them do I have the words for just how angry I am that you suffer this way.” He admitted. Looking at his gloved hands. It was rare he was so vulnerable like this, so it immediately peaked your interest in-between sobs.

- “Perhaps words aren’t enough to describe how even you feel. Yes?” He asked. You were trying to nod in response but you couldn’t focus hard enough to do so. The pain was too much. There was a look in Spy’s eye that suggested he knew that. “Come sit on my lap, let me lull you to sleep.” He offered, holding his arms out.

[ronniaugust]

How To Write Good Dialogue (Part 1)

I'm gonna start this by saying I'm not trying to sound like a know-it-all. I am just tired of posts like these being absolutely fucking useless. I am aware this is basically me screaming into a void and I’m more than okay with that.

This guide is meant for intermediate screenwriters, but beginners are also absolutely welcome. :)

(about me)

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I've noticed a rise in film students who want to make films that have no dialogue. Probably after your professor showed you Doodlebug, right? Fuck that.

I'll make another post about writing a short film, but all you need to know is: Don't waste the audience’s time. Most of these no-dialogue shorts have very little substance and take way too long to tell the shortest possible story. Not a good idea.

Useless Dialogue

Plain and simple, don't write useless dialogue. Useless dialogue is dialogue that just doesn't fucking matter. Dialogue matters by having ✨subtext.✨

What is subtext? Subtext is the meaning behind the action. That's it.

If I tell you that I love you and I got big doe eyes while I say it, it means I love you. If I tell you I love you through a clenched jaw without looking at you, I don't necessarily love you right now.

Simple, right? Great.

Now think about the subtext behind every line. Does your character mean what they're saying? Are they doing it to get what they want? What is going through their mind as they say it? As long as you know your character, you’ll have these answers ready to go. If you don’t, you’ll figure it out eventually. Just keep writing.

When you write your character walking into a Starbucks and saying, "One venti iced coffee," does that do something? Why do I need to see someone's boring Starbucks order? Do I need to know that your character's boring? Why are you writing a boring character? [Of course, in the rare situation where this is some revealing clue to the massive crime investigation, then it makes sense.]

Useless dialogue is any dialogue that has no meaning or purpose in your script. Delete and move on. You don't need to write entire conversations or scenes that bore us, just write what we care about.

I took a class once where my professor called a version of this "trimming the fat." Get us into your scene and out of your scene in as little time as it takes to have it achieve its full purpose in the script.

[P.S. You don’t “inject” subtext into your lines. Idk who started that vernacular in subtext teachings but I hate it.]

Show vs. Tell

I remember a glorious fight I got into with a Redditor last year about show vs. tell… TL;DR: Dialogue is “show” if you write it with intention and subtext. If someone says that dialogue is inherently “tell,” they’re wrong and can go fuck themselves.

Dialogue that is “tell” is expositional dialogue. But, hot take: Exposition isn't just in dialogue. It’s also those annoying clichés that make you roll your eyes in the theater (which we just call clichés and not exposition). I’m sure every professor I’ve had will disagree with this and then get me into a long conversation about it, but let’s ignore that for right now.

Have you ever seen a movie where a character rubs an old, worn-out photo of a young girl while looking depressed? That's exposition. That character has a dead daughter. No shit.

Clichés are incredibly annoying. We all know that. Assume that any cliché you see - in this context - is exposition and try your best not to write it. (Tropes are different and sometimes necessary, so I’m not talking about that.)

Point blank: When you have subtext in your lines, they are "show,” not “tell.”

Before moving on, I'll bring up that while technically the dead daughter photo is subtextual, it is as close to the character saying “My daughter is dead,” as you can get. Don't treat the audience like we're fucking stupid.

The First 15

If you don’t know what the Inciting Incident is, please look up “3 Act Structure” before reading this.

The first 15 pages of your script is the part that comes before the Inciting Incident. This is the part you want to get right because, although people probably won’t leave the theater, they will absolutely find something else on the streaming service they’re using. The people making said movie will also just toss your script in the trash before it’s even produced, so it's best to get it right.

Dialogue in the first 15 generally follows the same rules, but carries a heftier additional rule. All dialogue in the first 15 minutes must, must, must tell us something about your character.

Remember when I talked about that boring Starbucks order? Why is your character boring? Don’t write that. Don’t write nice characters. Or pleasant characters. Or friendly characters. No one cares.

You want empathy. This does not mean “relatable.” It means “empathetic.” There is a difference.

I personally relate to Vi in Arcane, but I empathize with Theo in Children of Men. Both are excellent, but one personally resonates a bit more with me. You cannot write a character that deeply resonates with every single person, it is impossible.

With each line of dialogue, you must be saying something about your character that generates the empathy. Instead of telling you how to do this, I’ll direct you to a movie that will do better than an explanation: Casablanca.

Watch how Rick interacts with the world. What kind of man is Rick? Watch what he does, what he says, and how he treats people and himself. Watch that empty glass on the table. Watch his contradictions. Everything. Those things matter and it’s what makes you want to watch Rick for the entire duration of Casablanca.

“Realism”

This is maybe more directorial, but make your characters human enough, not too human.

Too human is when you’ve tried your best to capture all those little life-like speech patterns. You know, the ones that no one fucking cares about.

If your character coughs, they’re sick. If they clear they’re throat, they’re uncomfortable. If a bruise isn’t going away, they’re going to die. Simple.

Every moment on screen matters. Everything the audience sees is meant to lead them to a conclusion. Not the conclusion, just a conclusion.

The realism you want is in the choices your character makes, not how many times they say “Uh,” in a sentence.

Conclusion

Dialogue matters and should not be treated lightly or without care. Once you have this all engrained in your mind, dialogue should become effortless.

If you want an excellent way to think about this, Robert McKee's Story has an excellent chapter that helped clarify this all for me. Here's an excerpt and the context.

Warning, spoilers for Chinatown.

"If I were Gittes at this moment, what would I do?"

Letting your imagination roam, the answer comes:

"Rehearse. I always rehearse in my head before taking on life's big confrontations."

Now work deeper into Gittes's emotions and psyche:

Hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, thoughts racing: "She killed him, then used me. She lied to me, came on to me. Man, I fell for her. My guts are in a knot, but I'll be cool. I'll stroll to the door, step in and accuse her. She lies. I send for the cops. She plays innocent, a few tears. But I stay ice cold, show her Mulwray's glasses, then lay out how she did it, step by step, as if I was there. She con-fesses. I turn her over to Escobar; I'm off the hook."

EXT. BUNGALOW-SANTA MONICA

Gittes' car speeds into the driveway.

You continue working from inside Gittes' pov, thinking:

"I'll be cool, I'll be cool ..." Suddenly, with the sight of her house, an image of Evelyn flashes in your imagination. A rush of anger. A gap cracks open between your cool resolve and your fury.

The Buick SCREECHES to a halt. Gittes jumps out.

"To hell with her!"

Gittes SLAMS the car door and bolts up the steps.

Story by Robert McKee, pg 156

The context of this page is McKee's way of explaining how to write characters. I found it very helpful.

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Thanks for reading! I probably forgot something, so I made this a “part 1.”

I hope this helps someone since I’m really tired of finding short films on YouTube that are all fucking silent. The few who have done it well have been copied to death, so please write some dialogue. I promise you it’s so much better if you do.

Asks are open! :)

[formulas-bitch]

Come back home 2 -

13K words

extra long one for you guys. let me know what you think, feedback or any suggestions are welcome

its been a few months since Emily left for her tour to Iraq, and the middle of the season of the formula 1 races for Charles.

As he was sitting in front of his computer, checking his emails, he found a familiar handwriting on the envelope. Excited, he opened the letter and began to read.

Emily's letter was full of news about her new life in Iraq. She described the desert landscape, the dusty roads, and the people she met. She told him about the challenges of her new job as first lieutenant, the long hours, and the intense training. But she also talked about the camaraderie she felt with her fellow soldiers, the sense of purpose and meaning she found in her work, and the incredible experiences she was having.

Charles was fascinated by her stories and couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and envy. He wished he could be there with her, sharing in her adventures, but he knew that he had his own path to follow. He was determined to make his sister and his family proud, even if it meant being far away from them.

As he read on, Emily mentioned that she had met some other soldiers who were also interested in motorsports. She wrote about how they would sometimes talk about the races together, swapping stories and sharing their enthusiasm. Even in the midst of a war zone, the love for speed and competition never died.

Charles was intrigued by this news. He wondered if perhaps he could somehow use his fame and connections in the racing world to support Emily and her fellow soldiers. He thought about sending care packages with racing gear or even arranging for a live feed of a race to be shown in their camp. But he also knew that he needed to tread carefully, as the last thing he wanted was to bring attention to her or her unit in a way that could potentially endanger them.

As he continued reading, Emily mentioned that she had heard about his recent successes on the track. She expressed admiration for his skill and dedication, and even joked about how she wished she could join him in the pits someday. This made Charles smile, knowing that even though they were separated by thousands of miles and a world of difference, they could still find common ground in their shared passion for motorsports.

Inspired by his sister's letter, Charles decided to take action. He reached out to his contacts in the racing community and arranged for a care package to be sent to Emily and her unit. The package was filled with official merchandise, autographed photos, and even a few pieces of racing gear. He included a personal note, expressing his love and support for her, and hoping that the package would bring a little bit of home to her while she was so far away.

A few weeks later, Charles received another letter from Emily. In it, she thanked him for the care package and told him how much it meant to her and her fellow soldiers. She described the joy they had shared when they opened it, imagining what it must have been like to be in the pits during a race or to meet their favorite drivers. She also mentioned that she had been thinking about his idea of finding a way to bring the races to them, and she was excited by the possibilities.

Charles was overjoyed to hear that his package had brought them so much happiness. He immediately began working on plans to make Emily's wish come true. He reached out to his contacts in the racing community again, explaining his sister's situation and the unique challenges they faced. To his surprise, several drivers and sponsors were eager to help, offering to donate their time and resources to make a live feed of a race possible.

After weeks of planning and coordination, they finally managed to set up a makeshift outdoor movie screen in Emily's camp. The soldiers gathered around, their faces lit up with excitement and anticipation. As the big day approached, Emily wrote to Charles, expressing her gratitude for his efforts and promising that they would make the most of the experience.

The day of the race finally arrived, and thanks to the generosity of the racing community, the soldiers were able to tune in to a live feed of the event. The sound of engines roaring filled the air as they watched their favorite drivers battle it out on the track. Despite the distance, Emily felt connected to the action, as if she were right there in the pit crew.

As the race progressed, the tension in the air was palpable. The soldiers cheered on their favorites, debated strategy, and shared stories of their own experiences in the racing world. Even the most seasoned soldiers seemed to be swept up in the excitement, forgetting, if only for a moment, the dangers that surrounded them.

Emily, unable to contain her enthusiasm, found herself constantly texting and calling her brother, sharing her thoughts and reactions to the race in real-time. Charles, equally enthused, responded with encouragement and shared anecdotes from his own racing career.

As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, the soldiers erupted in cheers. Even though they had been separated by thousands of miles, they had found a way to come together, if only for a brief moment, and share in the excitement of the sport they loved. Emily knew that the next day, they would be back to their duties, facing the dangers of their mission. But for now, they could forget about the world outside and simply enjoy the race.

She looked around at her fellow soldiers, their faces lit up with happiness, and felt a sense of pride and connection to them that she had never experienced before. She thought about her brother, Charles, and how his idea had brought them all together. Even though he was far away, she could feel his presence, his love and support for her and her fellow soldiers.

As they began to disperse, returning to their tents and duties, Emily couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. She knew that tomorrow they would be back to the grind of their mission, facing the dangers that came with it. But for now, she would cherish this brief moment of happiness, this reminder of the life they had left behind.

She made her way over to the makeshift movie screen, where the sound system was still blaring with commentary about the race. A few soldiers lingered, discussing their favorite drivers and strategies, their voices filled with excitement and enthusiasm. Emily leaned against the screen, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to memorize the feeling of this night.

It had been a long time since she had felt this alive, this connected to something beyond the confines of their camp. The sound of the engines, the thrill of the competition, it all reminded her of home, of the life she had left behind. And for just a moment, she could almost imagine herself back there, sitting in the stands, the warm sun on her face, her heart racing as the cars sped past.

A shadow fell across her, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked up to see one of the younger soldiers, his face flushed with excitement. "Hey, Emily, did you see that pass? That was insane!" He gestured animatedly, his words tumbling out in a rapid-fire mixture of awe and disbelief.

Emily nodded, her heart still racing from the race. "Yeah, that was something else. I can't believe he made that move." She paused, thinking about the drivers and their strategies, the way they battled for position around the track. "It's like they're a part of something bigger than themselves out there. They're pushing the limits of what's possible."

The young soldier, named Tom, smiled. "Yeah, you can feel it in the air, you know? It's like we're all a part of it too, just by being here, watching. Even though we're so far away, it's like we're still a part of the racing world."

Emily nodded in agreement, her gaze drifting back to the makeshift screen. "It's true. And I think that's what my brother was trying to do, you know? Create a connection, even if it was just for a little while."

The young soldier, Tom, looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess so. It's pretty cool that he thought of that. And even better that everyone else here seems to appreciate it." He gestured around at the camp, now beginning to quiet down as the soldiers returned to their duties.

Emily nodded, her gaze lingering on the makeshift screen. "It's just a shame we can't have more of this," she said wistfully. "I mean, it's nice that we can take a break and watch the races and all, but it's not the same as being there, you know? Being part of the action."

Tom shrugged. "I guess that's what we signed up for, right? Sacrifices and all that?" He paused, then added with a grin, "But hey, at least we get to watch the races!"

Emily laughed, feeling a little guilty for voicing her complaints. "Yeah, you're right. It's not all bad." She glanced back at the screen, the engines' roar still ringing in her ears. "Besides, it's not like we can just up and leave whenever we want. We've got a job to do."

The young soldier nodded solemnly. "That's for sure. But maybe one day, when this is all over, we'll get to go back and see the races in person. You know, like your brother always wanted."

Emily smiled at the thought, but it was tinged with sadness. She knew that for many of them, that day might never come. The war had already taken too much, and she feared it would continue to claim lives long after the final battle had been fought.

As they stood there, watching the race together, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if her brother's dream had been selfish. He had wanted so badly to bring a bit of joy and normalcy to their lives, but in doing so, had he failed to see the bigger picture? Had he underestimated the sacrifices that they, and countless others like them, would have to make?

Emily glanced over at Tom, his face lit up with excitement as a particularly daring move played out on the screen. She knew that he, like her, had left behind friends, family, and a life they could have only dreamed of. And for what? To fight a war that seemed to have no end in sight? To risk their lives for a cause that sometimes felt as distant and uncertain as the drivers on the screen?

But then again, maybe that was the point. Maybe it wasn't about the race or the glory or the cheering crowds. Maybe it was about finding something, anything, to hold onto when everything else felt so fleeting and fragile. It was about creating moments of normalcy and joy in the midst of the chaos, however brief they might be.

Emily looked at her friend, feeling a sudden surge of gratitude for his presence. They might not be at the track, but they were together, sharing this experience, however small it might seem. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The world around them seemed to fade away as the race continued, the sound of gunfire and explosions replaced by the roar of the engines. Soldiers ducked for cover, returning fire as they moved, their training taking over as they fought to protect one another. Emily's heart raced, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the task at hand.

She glanced at her friend, Tom, crouched down beside her, his face etched with determination. She could see the fear in his eyes, but he refused to show it. They were a team, and they would fight together until the end. As they took cover behind a fallen tree, Emily caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. She signaled to Tom, and together they flanked their position, guns at the ready.

The enemy soldiers were advancing quickly, using the cover of smoke to their advantage. Emily felt her heart pounding in her chest as she took aim, steadying her breath. She knew that every shot had to count. Tom nodded at her, and they both opened fire. The sound of gunfire filled the air as the two sides battled for control of the territory.

Emily ducked down behind a rock, reloading her weapon as quickly as she could. She glanced over at Tom, who was crouched down beside her, his face etched with determination. They had to hold their ground; they couldn't afford to give an inch. As she reloaded, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and immediately knew that they were outnumbered.

"They're surrounding us!" she yelled to Tom. He nodded grimly, his eyes fixed on the advancing enemy soldiers. They couldn't stay here; they had to find a way to break through the encirclement. As they crawled away from their makeshift cover, bullets whizzed past them, throwing up clouds of dirt and debris.

Emily glanced around frantically, searching for any possible escape route. Ahead of them, she spotted a rusty old jeep parked beneath a cluster of trees. It was their only hope. "Tom, over there!" she shouted, pointing at the jeep. "We have to make a run for it!, tell the otto meet us there"

Tom nodded in agreement, his face etched with determination. They couldn't afford to waste any more time. With renewed strength, they sprinted toward the jeep, bullets whizzing past them. Emily felt the wind of a near-miss bullet on her cheek, but she didn't let it deter her. They had to make it.

As they neared the jeep, Emily glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see the enemy losing ground. But the soldiers were closing in fast, their numbers seemingly endless. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself harder, her lungs burning from the effort. Tom reached the jeep first, yanking open the door and gesturing for her to get in.

Emily climbed into the driver's seat just as Tom threw himself into the passenger seat beside her. She slammed the door shut and turned the key, the engine roaring to life. As she put the jeep in gear, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. It was the others. They were running toward the jeep, their own gunfire muffled by the sound of their own panicked breathing.

Emily gunned the engine, the jeep leaping forward with a jolt. As they raced toward their friend, bullets rained down on them from all sides. The jeep swerved violently, tires spinning in the dirt as they careened out of control. Emily fought to regain control, her knuckles white from the force she was exerting on the steering wheel.

"They're gaining on us!" Tom yelled, his voice tense and panicked. Emily felt her heart sink. They had to shake the enemy off somehow. She glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to find an escape route, but there was nothing but trees and more soldiers. They were trapped.

She slammed on the brakes, causing the jeep to fishtail. The enemy soldiers, caught off guard, scattered. Emily took the opportunity to do a U-turn, racing back toward the encampment they had left behind. Tom leaned out of the window, firing wildly at the soldiers in their way. "We have to reach the camp!" he shouted, his words whipping away in the wind. "We have to warn them!"

Emily nodded, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. The jeep swerved and careened through the trees, narrowly avoiding collisions with obstacles in their path. As they neared the camp, she could see the soldiers had already overrun it. Burning structures and the sounds of gunfire filled the air. "They're already here," she whispered, dread filling her voice.

The jeep came to a skidding halt near what was left of the camp entrance. Emily and Tom exchanged a grim look before they leapt out, weapons at the ready. Bullets whizzed past them as they sprinted toward the command center, their boots sinking into the soft earth with each step. "Where are they?" Emily shouted over the chaos, her eyes darting around wildly for any sign of their team.

"This way!" Tom shouted, pointing toward a nearby hut. They dashed toward it, weaving in and out of the hail of bullets As they approache the hut, they could hear muffled voices coming from within. Emily signaled for Tom to cover her as she threw herself against the door, bursting into the hut.

The small structure was cramped with soldiers, all of them scrambling for cover. Emily spotted her team huddled together in the corner, their weapons drawn. "Over here!" she shouted, waving them over. The soldiers turned their attention to her, opening fire. Emily felt the impact of several bullets against her body, sending her flying back into the dirt. She winced in pain, struggling to breathe.

"Emily!" Tom shouted, rushing toward her. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he tried to stanch the bleeding. "We have to get out of here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "We can't stay here."

Emily forced herself to take a deep breath, wincing as pain shot through her chest. "No," she wheezed. "We can't leave them." She glanced around at her team, their faces pale and streaked with dirt and tears. "We have to fight back."

"But they've already taken over the camp," Tom protested. "How are we supposed to do that?"

Emily closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his hands trembling as he tried to keep her alive. "We can't just give up," she whispered. "Not like this."

Tom didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the soldiers surrounding them. There had to be a way out. They just had to find it. As their breaths came in ragged gasps, they glanced around the hut, searching for any sign of an escape route.

Emily's eyes fell on a crate in the corner, piled high with ammunition and weapons. She motioned for her team to follow her as she crept over to it. Carefully, she began to distribute the weapons among them, making sure each person had at least one. As they armed themselves, they also took whatever extra ammunition they could find.

"Okay," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible above the gunfire. "We're going to make a run for it. We'll use the crate as cover, and try to reach that jeep." She gestured toward the vehicle, barely visible through the haze of smoke and dust. "Once we're in, we'll make a break for it."

The soldiers surrounding them paused for a moment, seemingly surprised by the team's unexpected plan. Tom took advantage of the distraction and threw a grenade at the soldiers, hoping to buy them some time. The explosion rocked the hut, sending debris and dirt flying everywhere. Screams filled the air as the soldiers scattered in panic.

"Now!" Emily shouted, grabbing one end of the crate. Her team members followed suit, each taking hold of an end as they began to drag it toward the jeep. Bullets whizzed past them, thudding into the wooden crate and sending splinters flying. They moved as quickly as they dared, ducking behind what cover they could find.

As they reached the jeep, Emily glanced back at the hut, her heart racing. The soldiers had already begun to regroup, their numbers swelling as more and more of them emerged from the smoke and dust. There was no time to lose. She turned to her team, her voice tight with urgency. "Get in the jeep! I'll cover you."

Tom and the others climbed into the vehicle, their hands shaking as they fumbled with the doors and the ignition. Emily took a deep breath, steadying herself before turning to face the approaching soldiers. She lifted her weapon, aiming at the center of the group as they charged toward her. Bullets whizzed past her ears, sending dirt and debris flying, but she remained steady, firing round after round at the oncoming threat.

As Emily continued to fight, she glanced over at the jeep, watching as it lurched forward, gaining speed. She knew that she couldn't hold off the soldiers for much longer. With a final burst of adrenaline, she sprinted toward the vehicle, leaping into the back seat just as another wave of bullets struck the ground where she had been standing only moments before.

The jeep sped away from the hut, leaving a trail of smoke and dust in its wake. Emily slumped forward in her seat, gripping the edge of the door frame as she tried to catch her breath. Tom, his face pale and streaked with dirt, reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "We did it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're getting out of here."

But even as they drove, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed. Emily glanced in her rearview mirror, her heart racing as she saw a line of soldiers marching steadily behind them. "They're still after us," she said, her voice tense. "We need to lose them."

"I've got an idea," Tom replied, his hands tight on the dashboard. "Follow my lead." He reached for the jeep's radio and switched it on, then began to speak into the mic in their native language. "Hey, you! Yes, you, the soldiers back there. This is Alpha team, reporting in. We're fine, but we're being pursued by your boys. We could really use some backup."

Emily glanced at him, surprise etched on her face. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked. "We don't know who we can trust."

Tom shrugged, his expression grim. "We have to try something. If we can get them to think we're part of their team, maybe they'll back off."

Emily hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. She keyed the mic herself. "Roger that, team. We need you to provide cover fire and extract us from the area. Over."

The jeep raced through the jungle, its engine growling as they wove in and out of the trees, trying to lose their pursuers. After several tense minutes, Emily glanced in her mirror and saw a group of soldiers break off from the main group, taking up positions behind rocks and trees. They began to fire on the soldiers chasing after them, creating a distraction that allowed Emily to veer sharply to the left and lose sight of them.

A moment later, the radio crackled to life. "Alpha team, this is command. We've heard your call for backup. Stand by for extraction. Repeat, stand by for extraction." Emily let out a sigh of relief, grateful that their ruse had worked. "Roger that, command. We're standing by," she replied, glancing at Tom and then back at the road.

The jeep continued to race through the jungle, the soldiers' shouts and gunfire growing fainter in the distance. As they drove, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that they were still being followed. She couldn't help but wonder who they could trust among their own team.

"Hey, Tom," she said, her voice tight with tension. "You really think we can trust them, after all that?"

He glanced over at her, his expression grim. "I don't know, Em. But we don't really have a choice, do we? They've got us in their sights, and they know where we're going."

Emily nodded, her grip tight on the steering wheel. She wished she could trust anyone in this mess. But with each passing moment, it seemed as if they were further from allies and closer to becoming enemy targets. "Maybe they'll back off once they think we're safe," she said, more to convince herself than anything else.

The jeep careened through the jungle, branches scratching at the sides of the vehicle like claws. They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the engine's roar and the rustle of leaves. Emily glanced at Tom, wondering if he was feeling as lost and uncertain as she was. His face was set in a grim expression, his eyes darting from side to side, scanning the jungle around them.

As they continued to drive, she could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. The blood loss from her injury was starting to take its toll, and she was having a hard time focusing on the road. She reached over to her belt and pulled out a small vial of painkillers, popping two of them into her mouth and chasing them down with a swig of water. The medicine kicked in almost instantly, bringing a welcome wave of relief.

Emily glanced at Tom, who was staring out the window, his expression unreadable. "You okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse from fatigue. He nodded, but she could tell he was lying. "We'll make it to the rendezvous point, Tom. We just need to keep going."

As they continued down the winding jungle road, Emily felt her grip on consciousness slipping. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept, or if she'd even eaten anything since this whole mess started. The pain in her side throbbed with each bump in the road, making it difficult to focus on driving. She wished she could just close her eyes for a moment, but she knew she couldn't risk it.

Tom glanced over at her, concern etched into his features. "You doing okay, Em?" he asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched at his touch, the pain in her side intensifying. "I can take over if you need to rest," he offered.

Emily forced a smile, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I'm fine, really. Just a little tired. But we can't stop now, not with them still after us." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Besides, you're not much of a driver anyway," she added with a weak laugh.

Tom laughed softly in response, his expression easing slightly. "Well, I'm not about to argue with that," he said, settling back into his seat. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Emily nodded, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. As they continued to drive deeper into the jungle, the air grew thick with humidity, and sweat began to bead on her forehead. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, wishing she could roll down the window, but knowing they couldn't risk attracting attention.

Her eyelids felt heavy, and she fought against the urge to close them even for a moment. The pain in her side was becoming unbearable, and she could feel herself starting to drift off, her grip on consciousness slipping. She knew she needed to rest, but she couldn't risk it. Not yet.

Emily glanced at Tom, his expression mirroring her own exhaustion. "I'm really sorry, Tom. I don't know how much longer I can keep going like this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tom reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure something out. We're in this together, remember?" His words were calm, but his grip was tight, as if he were trying to hold onto something fragile.

Emily forced a smile, squeezing his hand back. "Yeah, I remember. Thanks, Tom." She glanced in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see the headlights of their pursuers closing in. But the road behind them was empty. For now.

"Hey, Tom," she said, her voice quiet. "Do you ever think about what we'd be doing if all this hadn't happened? You know, if we were just regular kids, not part of this whole mess?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I think we'd still be here, doing something important. Maybe not with the OASIS, but with something else. We're both good people, Em. We'd find a way to make a difference."

Emily looked over at him, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks, Tom. I hope you're right." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I know I'm not making this easy, but I need you to promise me something."

Tom's brow furrowed in concern. "What is it?"

Emily took a deep breath and forced a smile. "It's just… if something happens to me, if I don't make it out of here, I want you to make sure they know. My brothers, I mean. Tell them… tell them everything. About the OASIS, about Halliday, about what we found… and tell them that I love them, okay?" Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Tell them that I'm so sorry for leaving them, and that I'll always be with them. And tell my mom… tell her thank you. Tell her that I appreciate everything she's ever done for me."

There was a long pause as the weight of her words hung heavily in the air. Finally, Tom reached over and squeezed her hand. "I promise, Em. I'll make sure they know. I'll make sure everyone knows." His voice was solemn, and Emily felt a surge of relief wash over her.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Thanks, Tom. That means a lot to me." She glanced at Aech, who was still staring out the window, lost in thought. "Hey, Aech, how we doing so far?"

Aech turned back to her, his expression distant. "We're doing fine, Em. Just keep driving." He paused, then added with a small smile, "And try not to worry too much, okay?"

Emily nodded, her heart still racing. She focused on the road ahead, forcing herself to drive at a steady pace. The speedometer needle crept up as they raced past one exit sign after another. They were almost there.

"You guys okay back there?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Aech gave her a reassuring smile, while Tom continued to stare out the window, his jaw clenched tight. "Tom?" she prompted.

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Yeah, Em. I'm fine. Just thinking about what we're about to face." His voice was steady, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes. Emily felt a pang of guilt for involving him in all of this.

"Me too," she said, glancing back at Aech. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, Tom. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to turn back."

Tom's expression was grim, but he didn't hesitate. "Em, you know I'm not going to leave you. We're in this together, and I'm not about to abandon you now." There was a fierce determination in his voice, and Emily felt a surge of gratitude for his loyalty.

She nodded, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Thanks, Tom. I appreciate that. So… we just keep going?"

"Yeah," Aech said, finally breaking his silence. "Just a few more miles now." He glanced at Emily, then leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice. "But be ready, Em. This isn't going to be easy."

Emily nodded, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about what to say… what to expect. But no matter what happens, I want you guys to know that I couldn't have done any of this without you."

A silence fell over the car as they continued to race down the empty highway. The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the road ahead. Emily's heart felt like it was in her throat, but she forced herself to stay focused on the task at hand.

Finally, she couldn't bear the tension any longer. "Guys," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I just wanted to say… if something happens to me, if I don't make it out of here… please, please tell my brothers. Tell Enzo, Charles, and Aurthur that I love them more than anything, and that I'm sorry if I ever let them down. And tell my mom… tell her that I appreciate everything she's ever done for me. That I'm grateful for every moment we spent together, even when we fought. And tell her that I'm sorry for the arguments we had. That I was just trying to protect her."

Emily paused, wiping a tear from her cheek. "And if you could… could you give them all a big hug for me? Just tell them that I'll be thinking of them, and that I'll always be with them, no matter what."

Tom's voice was gruff as he spoke up. "Yeah, Em. We'll make sure they know, but your going to make it out of here yourself and can tell them yourself" He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his grip reassuring.

Aech nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Emily, we believe in you. We know you can do this." His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty beneath it.

The highway stretched out before them, seemingly endless in the fading light. Emily could feel the weight of Aech's words pressing down on her, the gravity of the situation bearing down on her shoulders. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and then began to slow the car down.

As they approached the tollbooth, she rolled down her window and handed the attendant a twenty-dollar bill. "It's for the road," she said with a weak smile, her voice barely audible over the rush of the wind. The attendant smiled back at her, nodding understandingly, and then waved them through.

Emily glanced in the rearview mirror as they drove past the booth, her reflection pale and haunted. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, before turning back to her friends. "Okay, so here we are," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm going to pull over up ahead and walk the rest of the way from here. You guys just stay in the car, okay?"

Aech nodded, his grip tightening on the wheel. "Yeah, we'll wait here. Just be careful, Em."

Emily pulled the car over to the side of the road and set the emergency brake. She took one last deep breath, then opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. The air was cool against her face, and the sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep shade of purple. She squinted at the horizon, searching for any signs of movement.

Turning back to the car, she waved at her friends through the open window. "I love you guys," she said, her voice barely audible above the sound of the wind. "Thank you for everything."

Aech leaned out of the window, his expression a mix of determination and fear. "You can do this, Em. We believe in you."

Emily nodded, trying to muster up some courage. "Thanks, Aech. I love you too." She turned back to Tom, her voice shaking. "And you, Tom. You've been such a great friend. Thank you for everything."

Tears were streaming down Emily's face as she spoke, but she forced herself to smile at them through her tears. "I'm going to do this," she said, more confidently than she felt. "I'm going to make it."

Aech nodded, his own eyes wet with tears. "You're right, Em. You can do this." He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his grip reassuring. "And we'll be right here waiting for you. No matter what happens."

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She turned back to the car and opened the door, stepping out onto the gravel shoulder. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked out at the highway, the cars speeding past in both directions.

She glanced over at Aech and Tom, their faces etched with concern, their eyes filled with love and support. "I love you both so much," she said, her voice trembling. "And I want you to know that no matter what happens, I want you to keep living your lives to the fullest. Don't let anything hold you back, okay?"

Emily took a deep breath and then turned her attention back to the highway. The cars were speeding past in a blur, the headlights like tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness. "I'm going to run across the highway now," she said, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to consume her. "Just stay here and wait for me, okay?"

Aech nodded, his grip tight on the seat. "We won't go anywhere, Em. We'll just wait right here for you."

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you both so much. And thank you… thank you for everything."

She turned her back to Aech and Tom, taking one final glance at their worried faces before facing the highway. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked out at the speeding cars, her heart pounding in her chest. In that moment, she knew that she was committing herself to the most terrifying and heroic act of her life.

Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then began to run. The hot asphalt scorched her feet as she sprinted across the highway, weaving in and out of the headlights. Her lungs burned and her legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to keep going. She couldn't let her brothers down, couldn't let her mom down. This was her last chance to make a difference.

Ahead of her, she could see the entrance to the interstate. It was so close, yet it seemed like an impossible distance away. She could hear Aech and Tom shouting her name, their voices distant and muffled by the rush of wind and the roar of the cars. She forced herself to ignore the fear that threatened to overwhelm her, focusing instead on the image of her brothers' faces, the way they'd smile when they thought no one was looking.

Emily's lungs burned, her legs ached, but she kept running, refusing to give up. With every step, she felt a new surge of determination, a new wave of courage. She wasn't going to let her brothers down. She wasn't going to let her mom down. She was going to make it across that highway, no matter what it took.

As she neared the entrance to the interstate, she could hear Aech and Tom shouting her name louder than ever before, their voices a beacon of hope in the darkness. They believed in her, and she was going to prove them right. She wasn't going to let anything stand in her way.

With one final burst of energy, Emily sprinted across the last few feet of the highway, the hot asphalt burning the soles of her feet. She leapt, pushing off with all her might, and landed safely on the shoulder of the interstate. Tears streamed down her face as she turned around to see Aech and Tom still standing at the other end of the highway, their hands raised in the air, their fists clenched in triumph.

"I made it!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the roar of the cars. "I did it! I'm here!"

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, relief and pride washing over their faces. They knew that the next part of their plan was just as dangerous, if not more so. They had to find a way to get across the interstate and meet Emily at the other end.

"Alright, Em," Aech said, his voice steady despite the tremor of emotion. "We're gonna need you to keep an eye out for us. Look for the big red truck we've been using as our ride. When you see it, give us a wave, okay?"

Emily nodded, her eyes scanning the cars as they sped past her. She could see the interstate stretching out in front of her, a ribbon of light cutting through the darkness. "I see it!" she shouted, pointing to the right. "I see the truck!"

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, their faces tight with determination. They began to run, weaving their way through the cars, their eyes never leaving Emily as they made their way across the interstate. They knew that the distance between them was closing with each step, but the cars still seemed to move impossibly fast.

Emily kept her eyes fixed on them, her heart pounding in her chest. She waved frantically when she saw them begin to run, her relief and joy palpable. Despite the danger, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in her team. They were running toward her, putting their lives on the line to save her, just as she would do for them.

As they drew closer, Aech and Tom broke into a sprint, weaving their way through the cars with a newfound sense of determination. They were almost there, their arms pumping, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Emily could see the desperation in their eyes, the determination to reach her no matter what it took.

She wanted nothing more than to be with them, to escape this hell together. But as she stood there, watching them run toward her, she couldn't help but think about the last thing she had said to them. About her brothers, and her mom.

Emily closed her eyes, trying to block out the images that flashed through her mind. Enzo, Charles, and Arthur. They were only kids, just like her. They didn't deserve this life. They didn't deserve to grow up in a world where people like Sorrento could exist. And her mom… Emily couldn't even begin to fathom the pain she must be going through right now. loosing their dad was hard but loosing her only daughter would be even harder.

She opened her eyes and looked at Aech and Tom, their faces contorted with determination and fear. "If I don't make it," she said, her voice barely audible over the sound of the cars, "tell them… tell them I love them. Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them…" Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to find the words. "Tell them everything. Tell them I'll always be with them."

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of understanding and determination. "We will, Em," Aech said, his voice steady. "We'll make sure they know."

Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you," she managed to choke out. "Just… just get me out of here, okay?"

Aech and Tom exchanged another glance, their expressions grim. They were almost within reaching distance now, their arms outstretched as they lunged forward, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward her. "We're almost there, Em," Aech panted. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily nodded, trying to steel her resolve as she felt the weight of their words. She knew that her brothers and mother were depending on them, and she couldn't help but feel guilty for putting them in this position. But she also knew that she couldn't give up. She had to keep fighting, for their sake as much as her own.

As Aech and Tom neared, she could see the determination in their eyes, the fire in their hearts. They were going to get her out of this hell, no matter the cost. And when they did, they were going to make sure that those responsible paid dearly.

Emily's breath came in ragged gasps as she watched them approach, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward her. They were almost there, just a few more steps, and she would be free from this nightmare. She forced herself to stand tall, to be strong, for her brothers and her mother.

"You can do this, Em," Aech panted, his hand reaching out to grab hers. "We're not leaving you behind."

Emily gripped his hand tightly, her fingers digging into his skin as they sprinted toward her. She could feel the weight of their words, the determination in their voices. They were going to get her out of this hell, no matter what it took.

As they neared, Aech and Tom exchanged one last glance, their faces etched with resolve. They had been through so much together, and they weren't about to let anything stop them now. With a final burst of speed, they reached Emily's side, their arms wrapping around her as they pulled her away from the oncoming traffic.

The impact of the car almost knocked them off their feet, but they held onto Emily tightly, refusing to let go. They stumbled backwards, away from the danger, their hearts racing and their lungs burning from the exertion. As they finally managed to put some distance between them and the cars, they lowered Emily to the ground, her limp body trembling from the adrenaline and fear.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances as they crouched beside her. They knew they needed to get her to safety, but first they had to make sure she was okay. "Em," Aech said, his voice shaking, "are you hurt?"

Emily let out a shuddering breath, her eyes closed tightly as tears streamed down her face. "I… I don't know," she managed to choke out. "I think… I think I'm okay."

Aech and Tom exchanged glances once more, their brows furrowed with concern. They knew that they needed to get her to safety, but they also wanted to make sure that she was really okay before they left.

Emily let out another shuddering breath, her shoulders shaking as she wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before speaking. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "I just need… I need a minute."

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances again. They knew that Emily was in shock, and they needed to keep her talking, to keep her mind off of what had just happened. "Of course, Em," Aech said, his voice gentle. "Take all the time you need."

Emily took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just need… I need to be with them. To tell them myself."

Aech nodded, understanding. "Of course, Em. We'll make sure that happens." He glanced over at Tom, who nodded back. They knew they couldn't bring her home just yet; they had to get her to safety first. But they also knew how important it was for Emily to be with her family.

They carefully helped Emily to her feet, supporting her weight between them. Her knees were shaking, and she leaned heavily into them as they began to walk again. They didn't know where they were going, but they knew they had to keep moving.

As they walked, Aech kept glancing over at Emily, worried about how she was holding up. Her face was pale, and she seemed to be in shock. "Are you sure you're okay, Em?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Emily nodded, but her voice was shaky when she spoke. "I… I think so. I just need to see them, you know? I need to tell them." Her eyes filled with tears again, and she wiped them away roughly with the back of her hand.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances once more. They knew that getting Emily to safety was their priority, but they also understood how important it was for her to be with her family. They continued to walk, searching for a safe place where they could call for help or find someone to help them. they need to contact base camp or the police, but they didn't know how to do that from here.

As they walked, Emily leaned heavily on their shoulders, her body trembling from the adrenaline and fear. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the urgent need to see her family. She knew that they would be waiting for her back home, worried sick about what had happened. The thought of facing them and telling them what she had just been through was almost unbearable.

Aech and Tom exchanged glances again, their expressions growing more concerned. They didn't know how much longer they could carry her weight, but they refused to leave her side. They needed to find a safe place where they could get help, and fast.

As they continued to walk, Emily's body grew heavier, her breathing more labored. Her eyes fluttered open and closed, her lips moving silently as if she were praying. Aech reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, debating whether they should call for help or try to find someone who could help them first., but it was broke and their radios weren't working either, so they were pretty much on their own.

"Em, I'm going to need you to hold on tight to me, okay?" he said, his voice gentle but firm. Emily nodded weakly, her fingers clutching at his jacket. They walked on, their footsteps echoing through the empty warehouse.

Aech glanced over at Tom, who shrugged. They both knew they couldn't carry Emily much farther. Her weight was becoming too much for them, and their own strength was starting to flag. They needed help, fast.

"Em, listen," Aech said, his voice firm but gentle. "We need to find someone to help us. Can you keep walking a little bit longer, okay?" Emily's eyes fluttered open, and she nodded weakly. A tear slipped down her cheek.

They continued to search through the empty warehouse, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Every now and then, they would hear distant noises outside, but they couldn't tell if they were coming closer or moving farther away. The air was cold and damp, and Emily shivered violently as she tried to keep pace with Aech and Tom.

"Hang in there, Em," Aech said softly, his arm tight around her shoulders. "We'll find someone to help us soon." But even as he spoke, he knew that they were running out of time. Emily's weight was becoming more and more difficult to bear, and their own strength was beginning to wane. They had to find help quickly, before something worse happened.

They continued to wander through the endless corridors of the warehouse, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. The air was cold and damp, and Emily's body shivered violently as she tried to keep up with their pace. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her eyelids fluttered open and closed, as if she were struggling to stay conscious.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances, their faces pale in the dim light. They knew they couldn't carry Emily much farther, and they were running out of time. As they rounded a corner, they spotted a figure in the distance, huddled against the wall. It was a man, dressed in the uniform of a maintenance worker.

"Over here!" Aech called out, waving his arms frantically. The maintenance worker looked up, startled, and hurried over to them. "We need help," Aech said urgently. "Our lieutentent here has been hurt, and she's losing consciousness."

The maintenance worker's expression turned grave as he knelt beside Emily. "What happened?" he asked, feeling for a pulse at her neck. " shes been shot" said tom and aech together. The maintenance worker nodded, his face tight with concern. "Okay, let's get her to the infirmary as fast as we can."

He carefully scooped Emily up into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. Aech and Tom followed close behind, their hearts pounding with worry. As they hurried through the maze of corridors, the maintenance worker gave them a quick update. "I'm sorry, but Emily has lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to the infirmary right away. If we don't, she could die."

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight as they continued their frantic race through the warehouse. They turned a corner and almost ran headlong into another group of of thier team, also searching for help. "Over here!" Aech called out, waving his arms to avoid a collision.

The group, consisting of four soldiers and their commanding officer, hurried over. "What's going on?" their CO demanded, his eyes darting between them. "Where's Emily?" Without a word, Aech and Tom pointed down the corridor they had just come from. The soldiers immediately took charge, two of them running ahead to scout the area while the others crouched down beside Emily and began administering first aid.

The maintenance worker, grateful for the extra help, stepped back to allow the soldiers to work their magic. He glanced at his watch, his brow furrowed. "We're not far from the infirmary," he said. "We can get her there quickly, but she's in bad shape."

Emily's breathing became shallower, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, her expression a mix of fear and confusion. "Wha-what happened?" she managed to croak. One of the soldiers, his voice steady and reassuring, replied, "Shhh, you're safe now. We're taking you to the infirmary where they'll fix you up."

The maintenance worker, who had been watching her closely, nodded in agreement. He glanced at his watch again, his brow furrowing as he realized they were taking longer than anticipated. "We shouldn't waste any more time," he muttered under his breath.

As they continued their frantic dash down the corridor, Emily's breath grew shallower and her skin paler. Her heart raced, and her head began to spin. "I-I'm n-not…," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

The maintenance worker, who was now carrying her, glanced back worriedly at the group following them. "We're almost there," he assured her, his voice shaking. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt as if she were floating, her body growing heavier with each passing second. Her vision blurred, and she could no longer make out the faces of her teammates or the unfamiliar hallways they were hurrying through. She tried to focus on their voices, but they seemed to fade in and out like a distant radio signal.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she was vaguely aware of the maintenance worker carrying her, his strong arms supporting her weight as he raced through the warehouse. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her ear, and the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she would be fine, but her words wouldn't come out.

The corridor spun around her, a blur of white walls and red emergency lights. She caught glimpses of her teammates, their faces etched with worry and determination, their movements a blur as they hurried along beside them. The air around her felt thick and heavy, like she was swimming through water, and her limbs felt impossibly heavy.

Emily tried to focus on anything, but her vision was foggy and her thoughts were slow and sluggish. She wanted to tell them she was okay, that she would be fine, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, she let herself be carried by the rhythm of their steps, her head lolling against the maintenance worker's shoulder as he hurried down the hallway.

The air around her felt thick and hot, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of heavy wool. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy, and every movement was a struggle. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this tired, this weak.

The maintenance worker carrying her seemed to sense her distress, glancing over his shoulder at her with concern etched on his face. "Almost there," he assured her, his voice rough with emotion. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt a pang of regret as she looked down at her jacket pocket, wondering what the small, glinting object was that had caused such a commotion. She knew it must be important, but her thoughts were growing fuzzy, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up on her.

The maintenance worker carrying her glanced back at her with concern, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the group following them. "Almost there," he murmured reassuringly, his breath warm against her ear.

Emily tried to focus on his voice, on the words he was saying, but her eyelids grew heavy and her head spun. The air around her seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive with each passing second, making it difficult to breathe. She felt as if she were drowning, her limbs growing heavier and more leaden with every struggle.

The maintenance worker carrying her glanced back at her with concern, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the group following them. "Almost there," he murmured reassuringly, his breath warm against her ear. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt a surge of determination as she tried to focus on his voice, on the words he was saying. She wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she would be fine, but her words wouldn't come out. Instead, she tried to sit up straighter, to steel herself against the overwhelming fatigue that threatened to drag her down.

The maintenance worker, sensing her renewed strength, adjusted his grip on her, his arms supporting her weight more securely. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a reassuring smile, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before he turned back to the group following them. "this way there are some doctors waiting for us ," he assured her, his voice strong and steady.

Emily forced herself to focus on his words, to take in the details of the corridor around her. The air felt cleaner now, less oppressive, and the red emergency lights seemed to dim ever so slightly. The walls were still a sterile white, but she could see signs of life now: posters advertising safety procedures, reminders to wash hands, and even a few bright flowers in a vase near the end of the hall.

As they rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the doctors waiting for them. They looked serious, but their eyes were full of concern and compassion. The maintenance worker carrying her slowed his pace, careful not to jostle her too much, and finally came to a stop in front of a set of double doors. One of the doctors stepped forward, taking her weight from the maintenance worker's arms.

Emily felt a wave of relief wash over her as she was lowered gently onto a waiting gurney. The doctor who had taken her weight quickly checked her vitals, noting her heightened heart rate and rapid breathing. He glanced at the maintenance worker and the others who had accompanied her, their faces etched with worry.

"She's stable for now," the doctor murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. "We'll take her back to get her checked out and she may need surgery based on her injuries" He turned to the waiting nurses, issuing instructions as they wheeled her down the hall.

Emily lay on the gurney, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, the white walls and sterile floors bathed in the harsh red emergency lights. She could hear the distant beeping of machines and the muffled footsteps of medical staff as they hurried past.

The doctor who had taken her vital signs was now examining her closely, his face a mask of concern. "Emily," he began gently, "I'm afraid you've been shot multiple times. You're going to be okay, but we need to get you to surgery as soon as possible." He paused, meeting her eyes with a reassuring smile. "You're in good hands here. Just try to rest and focus on getting better."

Emily tried to nod, but the movement made her wince with pain. "Okay," she managed to croak out.

The doctor gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping back. "We're almost there," he told her, his voice steady and calm. "The surgical team is waiting for you."

Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as the gurney began to roll forward once more. The sterile air of the hallway gave way to the familiar smell of antiseptic and the beeping of machines as they entered the surgical ward. Doctors and nurses in sterile white coats bustled around them, their efficient movements a testament to their expertise and training.

As they approached a set of double doors, a woman in a pale blue scrub suit rushed over to them. "Dr. Webber," she said, her voice tinged with urgency, "we're ready for you in Room 3. The anesthesiologist and the surgical team are waiting."

Dr. Webber, a tall man with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, nodded gratefully at the nurse. "Thank you, grey . How's she doing?"

"Her vitals are stable for now," the intern replied, glancing briefly at Emily before turning back to Dr. Webber. "But we're keeping a close eye on her. The anesthesiologist is ready to put her under as soon a we're in the OR."

Dr. Webber nodded, his expression grave but determined. "Thank you, . Let's get her in there and take care of her." He turned to Emily's teams, who ere waiting anxiously nearby. "gentlemen" he said gently, "we're going to take excellent care of your lieutenant We'll keep you updated every step of the way."

The team of surgeons filed into the operating room, led by Dr. Webber and the anesthesiologist. Emily's eyes fluttered open, panic rising in her chest as she realized she was about to be put under. "Wait," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible over the beeping of the machines, "tom and aech… they… they called my mom yet…?" Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat, and she struggled to breathe.

Dr. Webber glanced over his shoulder at the nurse, who nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, Emily," he said gently, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "They're here with you. Your friends tom and aech called your mother earlier to let her know what was going on. They're both here in the waiting room, waiting for updates from us. We'll make sure she knows you're doing as well as you can be."

Emily's chest tightened, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. "Okay," she managed to whisper. "Okay."

Dr. Webber smiled gently at her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I know it's scary, Emily, but we're here with you every step of the way. Your mom is going to be in good hands with tom and aech. They're both incredibly strong and resilient people, and they'll make sure she knows everything that's going on. You just focus on getting better, okay?"

Emily nodded weakly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Okay," she whispered.

Dr. Webber glanced at the anesthesiologist, who gave him a nod. "All right," he said gently, "let's get you prepped for surgery, Emily." The anesthesiologist placed a mask over Emily's face, and she felt the anesthesia begin to take effect. Her body went numb, and her surroundings grew fuzzy. She could hear distant voices, but they sounded as if they were underwater.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Emily's thoughts kept returning to tom and aech, and her mother and her siblings She wished she could be with them, to reassure them and to feel their love and support. She hoped they were all right, and that they knew she was going to be okay.

Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, tom and aech sat next to Emily's mother who was flown into immediately as she was called , holding her hands and rubbing her back. They had both called their own parents earlier to tell them what was going on and ask for their support. Tom had always been the strong one, but even he felt a lump in his throat as he tried to comfort Emily's mother.

"They're doing everything they can for her, Mrs. Leclerc ," tom said softly. "Dr. Webber is one of the best surgeons around. Emily is in good hands."

Aech nodded in agreement. "We've been texting each other updates from the waiting room. They've been telling us about every step of the process, and they sound so hopeful. They believe in her, just like we do."

" do the boys know what happened Pascale?" asked aech , his voice quivering slightly. Emily's mother shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Dr. Webber explained that Emily's windpipe had become compressed, making it difficult for her to breathe. They're operating now to relieve the pressure and hopefully restore her breathing, and that a bullet ot two have entered her chest cavity " she managed to choke out.

Tom squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Dr. Webber and his team are some of the best in the business, and they're going to do everything they can for her. They've got all the latest technology at their fingertips, and they're not going to stop until she's better."

Aech nodded in agreement. "And Emily's a fighter, Mrs. Leclerc. She's been through a lot in her life, but she's always come out stronger on the other side. I know she's going to pull through this."

Pascale looked up at them, her red eyes filled with hope and gratitude. "Thank you both so much for being here for her," she said, her voice shaking. "I can't tell you how much it means to me, and to our entire family. Your support is going to help Emily more than you'll ever know."

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, an surgical intern cleared his throat. "So, uh, we talked to the doctors, and they're doing some tests to see how much damage was done to her windpipe, and how many ribs were broken. We'll let you know as soon as we hear anything."

Tom and Aech exchanged worried glances, then turned to Emily's mother who seemed in a dazed ans snapped her out of it. "They're running some tests, Pascale, but they're confident they can fix whatever's wrong. And, uh, they told us that Emily was very lucky. The bullet that hit her chest didn't damage any major organs, and it didn't even puncture her lung."

Pascale's eyes widened with hope. "Really?" she managed to choke out. "Then she has a good chance?"

Tom nodded solemnly. "That's right, Pascale. The doctors are very positive about her chances. They say that she's strong, and that she's fighting hard. We just have to keep the faith and be there for her."

' i should probably call Enzo and let him know what's happing and he can get here with Charles and Arthur as soon as they can' cried Pascale , already reaching for her purse. The two men exchanged a worried glance, but didn't say anything. They knew that Emily's family was close-knit, and that having her brothers there would mean the world to her.

"Here, let me do that," Aech said, gently taking her phone out of her hand. He dialed Emily's older brothers number and put it on speaker so Pascale could hear. There was a brief pause, and then a tired voice answered. "Hello?"

"Enzo, it's Aech. We're with Emily at the hospital. She was shot tonight, but the doctors are doing everything they can. They say she's strong and she's fighting hard," Aech said, his voice cracking slightly. "She's in good hands, but we could really use you and the rest of the family here with us."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Oh my God," Enzo finally whispered. "I'm on my way. Charles and Arthur too. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Pascale let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping in relief. "Thank you, Enzo. I can't tell you how much that means to us all. We love you and your brothers."

The room was filled with the sound of muffled sobs as the news began to sink in for Emily's family. Tom put his arm around Pascale, offering what little comfort he could. "We'll stay here with her, Pascale. You should go back to the hotel and get some rest. The doctors said there's nothing you can do right now, so try to get some sleep."

Pascale shook her head, wiping away tears. "I can't leave her," she whispered. "I can't, i can;t loose her too"

Tom squeezed her shoulder gently. "You need to take care of yourself, Pascale. Emily needs you to be strong for her. We'll stay right here with her, okay?"

Aech nodded in agreement. "And, listen, we'll keep you updated every step of the way. You're not going to hear anything through the news or social media that we don't tell you first, okay?"

Pascale nodded, sniffling. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thank you." She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands. "I just can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "Why would someone do this to her?"

Tom placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We don't know, Pascale. But we'll find out. The commanders are on it." He glanced over at Aech, who was pacing back and forth near the window. "In the meantime, let's make sure Emily knows that we're all here for her, okay?"

Pascale nodded, sniffling as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thank you." She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

after a few hours later Enzo, Charles, Aurthur and their girlfriends arrive at the hospital.

they all walk in and see tom and aech sitting in the waiting chairs half asleep on each others shoulders while the rest of the team are spread around the waiting room.

As Enzo, Charles, Arthur, and their girlfriends approach, they exchange hugs and words of encouragement with Emily's team. They all take seats around the waiting room, trying to stay positive and supportive. The room is tense, but there's also an undercurrent of determination and strength that comes from being together in this difficult time

"wheres our mother?" asked charles "she should be here"

" we sent her back to the hotel a few hours ago to rest: said aech

"shes too worried about emily to get any sleep here." He looked over at enzo, charles and arthur. "i'm glad you all are here now. It helps."

"of course we're here for her. we'll get through this together." Enzo said, squeezing Tom's shoulder. "Any updates from the commanders?"

Aech shook his head. "Not yet, but they're working on it. They're going through all the footage from the arena, and they're trying to track down anyone who might have seen something." He glanced over at Emily, her condition seeming to grow more grave with each passing moment. "They'll find whoever did this, I promise."

"what happened exacly?" asked aurthur .

"well, according to the doctors, Emily was hit by a poisoned dart and shot multiply times while she was trying to save a teammate during the attack . They're still trying to stabilize her, but it's been a bit of a rollercoaster ride so far," explained Tom. "It's horrible, just horrible."

" we were ambushed from all sides, we had nowwhere to go" explained tom "i was shot, aech was shot, emily was shot. we tried to fight back but they were too many. we hid in the bushes and waited for backup but it never came"

" and then emily found a abandoned truck and carried everyone who was injured to the truck and drove like hell" aech said , starting to cry again "she saved all of us but they shot her again, they shot her in the chest" he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "she's strong, she's going to be okay, we just have to believe that"

The waiting room remained tense as they continued to exchange stories and tried to comfort each other. Aurthur, Enzo, and Charles looked at each other, knowing that they had to be strong for Emily and the rest of the team. They each took turns pacing, trying to burn off some of the nervous energy that was coursing through their veins.

Charlette and Alex , enzo and charles girlfriends had went and gotten coffee for everyone and brought it back to the waiting room. They tried to make small talk with everyone but it seemed like no one wanted to talk. Everyone was too worried about Emily. Tom and Aech were constantly checking their phones, waiting for any news from the commanders.

"You know, Emily would want us to be strong right now. She'd want us to fight for her," Enzo said, trying to encourage the group. "We need to stay positive and believe that she's going to pull through this."

"I agree, Enzo. She's a fighter, and she's not going to give up without a fight," said Aurthur. "We just have to keep telling ourselves that."

The waiting room fell silent again as they all focused on Emily, willing her to pull through. The doctors and nurses came in and out, giving updates on her condition, but there was little change. They were still working to stabilize her.

Aech finally broke the silence. "Guys, I can't just sit here. I need to do something. We all need to do something." He stood up, looking determined. "We need to find out who did this. We need to make them pay."

" just as aech was complaining, dr.webber walked out and with him was two other doctors.

dr.webber looked at the group and said "i have some good news and some bad news. the good news is, we were able to stabilize her. the bad news is, we had to put her into a medically induced coma. the poison is too strong and we need to give her body time to fight it off"

"what's going to happen to her while she's in the coma?" asked Tom, his voice shaking.

"Well, she'll be hooked up to a ventilator to help her breathe, and we'll continue to monitor her vitals. We'll also administer antitoxins to help combat the poison. But it's still too early to tell how she's going to respond. We're going to keep her in intensive care for now, and we'll update you on her condition as we learn more," explained DR.Shepard the neuro-surgeon one of the other doctors .

" what about the her chest" asked aech "is she going to be okay?" "well, the bullet didn't hit any vital organs, so her heart should be fine. however, the poison has caused some damage to her lungs. we'll have to monitor that closely as well. there's a chance she may need a lung transplant down the road, but that's something we'll cross when we come to it," explained Dr.Burke the cardo- surgeon .

"thank god the bullet didn't hit anything else," Tom said, visibly relieved.

"Listen, we're going to do everything we can for Emily," Dr.Shepard assured the group. "She's in good hands here. But we're also going to need your help. You all need to stay positive and supportive. Keep the visitors to a minimum so she can rest. And most importantly, trust in the medical staff to do our jobs."

"I will," Tom said, nodding. "I'll be here for her, no matter what." He wiped a tear from his eye.

"So will I," Aech added. "And we'll find whoever did this, and we'll make them pay." He shot a determined look at the doctors.

Dizziness overcame Enzo as he realized the gravity of the situation. He sat down heavily in a chair, his head in his hands. "This is all my fault," he whispered. "I should've been there. I should've protected her. I should have told her not to join the army and instead i encourage her to join''. His voice broke, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Aech put a reassuring hand on Enzo's shoulder. "Hey, man, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known this would happen. We're all in this together now, and we're going to find out who did this and make them pay."

Dr.Webber nodded. "Yes, and in the meantime, I want you all to focus on Emily. Stay positive and supportive. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers. We'll do everything we can here."

The doctors left the room, giving the friends a moment to process the information. Enzo leaned back in his chair, still unable to meet Aech's eyes. "I don't know how I'm going to handle this," he whispered. "I feel so guilty."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Aech said, his voice soft. "We all make mistakes. We just have to focus on getting Emily through this and finding whoever did this to her."

" hey enzo, you are the person emily looks up to since dad passed away" charles said "if anyone can help her get through this, it's you. Just be there for her, okay?"

Enzo took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice still shaky. "I promise."

"Good, good," Charles said, his voice reassuring. "Now, let's go visit Emily. I'm sure she'd love to see some friendly faces."

" we should propnaly call mom first" said aurthur "she's gonna need to hear about this as well" . charles nodded and dialed the number.

their mother answered the phone with a shaky voice, her words choked with tears. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Charles said gently. "It's me, Charles. Listen, emily is out of surgery and is in a medical coma"

Their mother let out a choked sob. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Is she going to be okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know, Mom. The doctors are doing everything they can. But we need to stay positive and supportive. Emily's going to need us now more than ever. do you want someone to come and get you?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Their mother was clearly struggling to keep it together. "Yes," she said finally. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right, Mom," Charles said. "Take your time. We'll keep you updated. And we'll need your support too. We're all in this together."

"Thank you, Charles," their mother said, sniffling. "I'll be there as soon as I can." She paused for a moment, then added, "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too, Mom," Charles replied gently. "Now, why don't you take a deep breath and try to calm down before you get here. Emily can feel your emotions, and we need to stay strong for her."

As their mother finished the call, they all stood up and headed toward Emily's room. The hallway was crowded with worried family members, all exchanging hushed whispers and tearful glances. It was a somber procession as they made their way down the hall, their footsteps echoing against the sterile white walls.

Finally, they reached Emily's room. everyone paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before them. Emily lay motionless in the bed, her face pale and peaceful, surrounded by a tangle of wires and medical equipment. The beeping of the monitors filled the air, creating a rhythmic, yet unsettling background noise.

Enzo stepped forward, his heart racing. He took Emily's hand in his, feeling the coldness of her skin against his own. "Hey, Em," he whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "We're all here. We're not going anywhere. just know your big brother is here"

Aurthur sat down gently in a chair next to the bed, his eyes never leaving Emily's face. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his own racing thoughts. "Em, we love you so much," he said softly. "We're going to do everything we can to help you get through this. You're so strong, and we know you can fight this and i need my big sister to cover for me when i mess with enzo and charles"

Charles nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from Emily's forehead. "You're not alone, Em. We're all here for you, okay? And when you wake up, we're all going to have an amazing adventure together. Just you wait and see and i want you to meet your nephew Leo, whos a dog by the way"

As they sat with Emily, the hours seemed to drag on. The doctors and nurses came and went, each one bringing news both hopeful and dire. They tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, talking about school and work and their favorite movies, but the weight of Emily's condition hung over them like a dark cloud.

The room was bustling with activity, but for the seven of them, it might as well have been a lonely island. They were all so focused on Emily, their world had narrowed down to this tiny space. They shared glances, held hands, and whispered words of encouragement.

Time seemed to slow down as they waited, the beeping of the monitors filling the air. Every time a doctor or nurse came in, their hearts would leap into their throats, only to sink again when they heard the news was good.

Aurthur was the first to speak up. "Hey Em, do you remember that time we snuck out of the house and went to that amusement park?" He asked, trying to elicit a smile. "We had so much fun, and we got in so much trouble!"

Enzo nodded, his eyes filling with tears. "Yeah, I remember. It was like we were invincible. We could do anything, be anyone." He wiped away a tear, trying to maintain his composure. "We should've known that day we could conquer anything, because we did. We conquered our fears and we lived life to the fullest."

Aurthur smiled at his friend, then turned to Emily. "You know, Em, I think about that day a lot. It's funny how sometimes the smallest things in life can change us. I mean, that amusement park trip was just supposed to be a day off from summer school, but it ended up being so much more."

[sweetblinginrose]

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥! ,

(OS Steve Harrington x fem!reader Kline x Robin Buckley)

summary: you, Steve’s ex-girlfriend, bounce out of town because of your dad’s passing. You decide to swing back during the holidays after your big transformation, only to stumble upon this chick who’s feeding into your sensual cravings.

word count: 11k +

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (receiving, female), homophobia, lesbianism, two-year age difference (both are older), kisses, inexperience, scissoring, no cuddling after sex, caught by a bystander.

a/n: i wrote this bored, so there’s a bit of filler. not recommended for folks craving instant action, there’s some backstory here. can’t promise it’s all good, wrote it while watching a movie lol

masterlist

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Indeed, your life seemed like a modern fairy tale, but with a touch of irony. Being the daughter of Mayor Laurence ‘Larry’ Kline, your existence was wrapped in an aura of privilege and power. However, not everything that glitters is gold, and behind the facade of perfection, secrets and uncomfortable truths were hidden, but you ignored them.

Since childhood, you were the center of attention, not only for being the mayor’s descendant, but also for your innate charisma. Your room was a sanctuary of toys and luxuries: shelves filled with porcelain dolls with glassy eyes that seemed to follow you around, drawers overflowing with colorful ribbons that adorned your hair, and a vanity covered with imported makeup you hadn’t even fully learned how to use. Your clothes were never repeated. You had a wardrobe that rivaled the most exclusive shops, with designer dresses and shoes that squeaked when you wore them for the first time. The attention you received was constant and sometimes overwhelming. Boys and girls your age looked at you with a mix of admiration and envy, while adults treated you with a deference that bordered on servile. And then there was Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the golden boy of Hawkins, your favorite plaything, whose attention seemed to be the most coveted prize. His charming smile and perfectly styled hair were the dream of many, but he only had eyes for you. However, even that perfect relationship had its cracks, its secrets that only you knew, since you had been fortunate enough to snatch his virginity.

With every step you took down the hallway, the murmur of conversations mingled with the sound of your little platforms. Your pastel yellow Chanel skirt was like a ray of sunshine amidst the monotony, drawing looks that oscillated between admiration and envy. You felt as if you were on an impromptu catwalk, with the school hallways transformed into your personal stage.

Your best friend, always by your side, shared your confident and elegant attitude. Although rumors said her financial situation wasn’t as comfortable, her demeanor and style left no doubt that she was up to the challenge. Together, you formed a dynamic duo, two fashion forces in a sea of sportswear and uniformity.

As you passed by Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, the couple of the moment, you felt a spark of satisfaction. Despite their smiles and the image of happiness they projected, there was an open secret that everyone in the school knew: Steve was with Nancy trying to fill the void you had left, just as he does with all the girls. His presence by her side was only a shadow compared to the memories he shared with you. It was a game of appearances and hidden emotions, a delicate dance of glances and whispers that intertwined in the everyday life of the school day. And in that dance, you held the baton, aware of every movement and the melody that only you could orchestrate.

Every time you approached Steve, your steps were confident and your presence unmistakable. You could see how his world paused for a moment, how his eyes left whatever had captured his attention to meet yours. Even in the most unexpected moments, like when his lips were about to touch Nancy’s, he would pull away, as if an invisible magnet was drawing him towards you.

“Hi, Stevie…” you would say with a warm voice and a tone that resonated with a mixture of respect and genuine affection. It wasn’t just a formality imposed by the long-standing friendship between your father and his, but a gesture you sincerely enjoyed.

His response never changed: a silly smile, one of those that appear without permission from the brain and speak more of feelings than words. It was a smile that didn’t need embellishments or explanations, that said “Glad to see you…” without needing to utter a single syllable. And although he would never admit it out loud, you knew that smile was just for you, a small secret shared in the midst of daily routine.

With a subtle yet meaningful gesture, you ran your tongue over your lower lip, a slow and deliberate movement that didn’t go unnoticed. Your eyebrows arched slightly, an unequivocal signal that only he could decipher. You looked him up and down, a quick but intense scan that confirmed the mutual attention. Then, with a grace that seemed as natural as breathing, you decided to continue on your way, letting the pastel yellow skirt sway gently with each step you took.

To any casual observer, your behavior was nothing more than a mundane greeting, one of those social exchanges that fade into the collective memory of everyday life. However, what they were unaware of was the espionage game hidden behind that facade of normalcy. That “Stevie” pronounced with a particular cadence and that raising of eyebrows were the secret code, the agreed signal that indicated it was time to act.

He, knowing its meaning, didn’t hesitate for a second. Anything he was doing was suspended, abandoned without remorse.

With the mental agility of an experienced spy, he turned to Nancy with an apologetic expression on his face. “Nancy, I’m sorry, but I need to check something on the sound system,” he said, his voice attempting to sound casual but unable to fully hide the underlying urgency. “I think I left something on and I don’t want it to overheat.”

Nancy, accustomed to his sudden technical disappearances, nodded with a understanding smile. “It’s okay, Steve. Go and fix whatever you need,” she replied, releasing him with a gentle pat on the arm.

His steps quickened, driven by the urgency of that silent call, heading towards the stairs hidden behind the locker rooms. It was a ritual they had perfected over time, a dance of glances and gestures that communicated much more than words ever could…

The muffled whisper faded into the dimness, a secret confessed only to the dancing shadows around. Each touch of his tongue was a promise, a silent oath igniting a cascade of sensations, a rushing river flowing through every fiber of your being, and especially through your thighs. You grasped his hair, those rebellious strands privileged only to be tousled by your fingers, while struggling to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to sweep you away. The coolness of the stone against your back was an anchor, the sole reminder that you still belonged to this world, intensifying the clandestine atmosphere of pleasure you both shared.

In the dimness of the old stairs, the world narrowed down to the haze around you and whispers. The flickers of light that seeped through played hide and seek among the forgotten corners, barely revealing Steve’s silhouette. His face, adorned with cute moles forming constellations, was hidden in the depths of your skirt, a mystery, an enigma defying reality with his presence. Despite the faint darkness surrounding you, your eyes had adapted enough to distinguish his, shining with a fierce passion, an uncontrollable flame consuming the air between you, making you tremble even more. Every stroke of his tongue, every suction, was a torment and a pleasure intertwined dragging you towards a forbidden ecstasy.

The echo of your moans intertwined with the gentle murmur of the wind, creating a symphony of desire in the air charged with anticipation. With each movement, each touch, the heat of your bodies intensified, merging into a whirlwind of burning sensations. One of your hands, trembling with excitement, clung firmly to the wrought iron railing, while your legs tensed involuntarily as Steve’s lips explored every nook of your intimacy. “Mhhm, right there, Stevie,” you whispered between gasping breaths, letting out a more intense moan as you felt the pressure of his mouth against your center of pleasure. The strength of your hands unconsciously squeezed his face between your thighs, plunging him even deeper into the vortex of your desire, while the essence of your excitement flooded his senses.

Steve’s grunts resonated in the space between your legs, causing his lips to vibrate slightly against your sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being. Every movement, every sigh, was a dance of shared ecstasy, leading you to the edge of the abyss of pleasure.

Moaning in response to every caress, every suction, you surrendered completely to the frenzy of the moment, feeling as if you were about to unleash heaven in an uncontrollable explosion of ecstasy.

A few seconds later, after a symphony of intense suctions and wet licks, you surrendered to the rush of pleasure and came in Steve’s mouth. He was kneeling in front of you as you leaned over him, your dripping pussy releasing your essence onto his eager lips. Steve welcomed your ecstasy with a smile radiating excitement, his eyes shining with shared passion, and his cock, of course, barely contained in his too-tight pants, scarcely visible but hinting at the unrestrained desire consuming him. Steve’s gaze, filled with satisfaction and lust, locked onto yours as he savored every drop of your essence as if it were the most exquisite nectar.

His lips, wet and eager, continued to explore your intimacy with a devotion that left you breathless, while his skilled tongue continued to provoke waves of pleasure that coursed through every fiber of your being.

You could feel the force of his desire pulsating against your skin, his eager hands seeking contact, craving more of you even in that moment of shared ecstasy. The sexual tension that had built up between you reached its peak, manifesting in the urgency of his movements and the desperate hunger of his lips against yours. But before you let him kiss you, still reeling, you gently pushed him away, looking him up and down with an expression of superiority, as you always did.

“Don’t think I’m gonna kiss you, screw you, or anything like that. I just wanted you to eat me out, nothing more. Don’t feel like doing anything else with you. Let your little girlfriend Nancy suck your dick. I’m out,” you said, adjusting your skirt, forgetting something but leaving as quickly as possible to avoid having to talk to him, as usual.

Little did you know, you had left your delicate lace thong there, forgotten alongside Steve, the masochist who was always lurking. Steve knew that you two no longer had the same connection as before, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get closer to you. This time, he decided to seize the opportunity, knowing he would never have the intimacy with you that he desired as in the old times.

Without wasting a moment, Steve picked up your thong soaked with your fluids and tucked it into the back pocket of his pants. With stealthy movements, he slinked towards the locker room bathrooms, with the sole intention of finding relief for his throbbing cock.

He sat cautiously on the toilet lid, closing the bathroom door with a firm twist of the key, thus ensuring his privacy. With a mix of palpable anxiety and desire, he prepared to indulge in solitary pleasure, with your image ever-present in his mind.

With trembling hands, he retrieved his wallet, a treasure he guarded jealously, and from it, he pulled out a photograph of you. In the image, you looked radiant, modeling one of his T-shirts, your delicate nipples barely outlined in the fabric. With a gaze fixed on your face, his fingers caressed the image with devotion, as if they could touch your skin through the paper.

In addition to the photo, he pulled out the thong you had previously forgotten, a garment that became a tangible symbol of your past encounters, as it had been a gift from you when you had been dating. Carefully, he wrapped his erection with the soft fabric, feeling the familiar texture and the echo of your presence in every fiber. The combination of the no longer so warm creamy fluid and the soft fabric triggered a wave of pleasure that immediately brought him to the brink of ecstasy. A slight moan escaped his lips as he surrendered to the frenzied rhythm of his own hand, immersing himself in a world of fantasies where only you occupied his mind.

“I’m sorry, Nancy…” he murmured with a choked voice, while his fingers explored the soft skin of his erection, sensitive and sore from the accumulated tension. His eyes were fixed on the photograph he held with reverence, your image shining before him.

Every detail of your face captivated him: your rosy, provocative lips; your pronounced eyelashes framing eyes full of mystery and seduction; your beautiful hair gracefully waving around your face. Everything about you delighted him, from the elegance of your gestures to the intensity of your gaze.

But despite his fascination, a feeling of resentment stirred within him. He hated how sometimes you could be so stubborn, so insensitive to his desires and needs. The tension between you grew with each encounter, fueled by your whims and his repressed frustration.

With a sigh laden with mixed emotions, he surrendered to solitary pleasure, each caress a blend of desire and desperation. Though he loved you madly, sometimes he wished you could understand what he felt, what he needed from you beyond appearances.

After reaching climax twice, his still labored breathing echoed in the silent locker room. A thin layer of sweat beaded his forehead, a testament to the intensity of his emotions released in those moments of solitary ecstasy. Small droplets of his essence escaped his body, lightly staining the locker room floor, marking the territory of his unrestrained passion.

With trembling hands, he adjusted his tight pants, still feeling the buzz of pleasure resonating through his body. The air was laden with the scent of desire, permeating the environment with the intensity of their intimate encounter.

With determination in each step, he headed towards his last class before lunch. Although his mind still buzzed with images of your face, his body was now infused with a sense of calm and satisfaction. He had released the accumulated tension, at least for a moment, and was ready to face the rest of the day with renewed energy.

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The rain pounded the pavement with a fury that seemed personal, each drop an accusation against the city asphalt. Amidst this storm, the Family Video store stood like a beacon for movie lovers, its flickering sign battling the darkness imposed by the whims of the weather.

Robin held the umbrella with a steady hand, protecting not only her own hair from the rain but also that of her companion in discussions and confidences, Steve. With his gaze fixed on the trunk of his car, Steve rummaged through forgotten tools and objects, desperately searching for the small lamp that would allow them to continue their work in the video store.

“How could you be into Kline’s chick, dude? She’s just as gross as her daddy, I don’t get it,” he said, his voice barely audible over the constant drumming of the rain. The question was not only a questioning of shared tastes but an echo of a deeper rivalry, one that extended beyond romantic preferences and touched the fiber of their friendship. “I still don’t get why you’re into the same girls as me, man,” he continued, his frustration growing with each word, as if the same drops falling from the sky fueled his discontent.

Robin, with a patience found only in those who have weathered countless storms, both meteorological and emotional, responded with a calm that contrasted with the agitation of the night. “I just have good taste, Steve.”

Finally, Steve’s fingers stumbled upon the object of his search. With a sigh of relief mingling with the dampness of the air, he grabbed the lamp and closed the trunk with a thud that resonated in the stillness of the night. Both were splattered with the treacherous drops that had accumulated their weight on top of the car, a small victory of the storm over their efforts. The dimness of the Family Video store enveloped Steve and Robin like a blanket, darkness interrupted only by the erratic flashes of lightning seeping through the windows. “Good taste? She was straight-up trouble, Rob,” he murmured, his voice echoing in the emptiness of the store. The shelves, normally full of life and color from the movie covers, now seemed threatening shadows in the darkness. “I went out with her, and I can tell you, it wasn’t a great experience, apart from the sex, of course,” he continued, his tone a mix of regret and disdain. As he closed the soaked umbrella, drops of water detached and joined the chorus of rain pounding outside. He placed the umbrella by the door, like a forgotten guardian, and shook his hair, trying to rid himself of the invading moisture. He pulled out a mini mirror, the surface reflecting a face marked by the tumultuous night. He checked his hair. With a sigh, he continued to the counter, where he deposited the small lamp, its light a promise of warmth in the cold that engulfed the place.

“You went out with that hottie?! I might start believing that whole thing about ugly dudes scoring the hottest girls…,” Robin joked, her laughter a flicker of light in the darkness, as ephemeral and bright as the lightning outside. She stepped aside, leaving space for Harrington, in a gesture of camaraderie, unable to give him a friendly punch on the arm.

The tension between Steve and Robin was palpable in the charged air of the Family Video store. “She wouldn’t even look twice at you… she’s super straight. I even think she was homophobic…” Harrington said, his voice tinged with a jealousy that seemed to drag shadows from the past, shadows of a high school era that both had left behind, or so they thought.

“Well, I’ll just turn her from phobic to homo, easy,” Robin retorted, her eyebrows raised in a playful challenge, a joke meant to lighten the mood but only served to bring Steve a flood of memories, flashbacks he’d rather keep buried.

“Ugh, don’t do that!” Steve complained, his patience wearing thin like the tape of an old VHS movie. Robin, feeling the weight of her friend’s irritation, let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, I won’t breathe either if that bothers you too, for god’s sake…” she said, rolling her eyes in a theatrical expression of frustration before walking towards the back room.

Leaving he alone at the counter, the echo of her footsteps mingled with the buzz of burnt fuses and the murmur of rain against the roof. Steve stood there, in the dimness, his mind navigating the turbulent waters of his adolescence. He remembered you, with your fiery temper and defiant smile, a presence that had marked his youth and, despite the years and distance, still stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within him. It had been approximately four years since you went to Spain on exchange, four years that had done little to cool the memories Steve held of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed your bad temper, and above all, that body of yours…

The days at the Family Video store passed with the slowness of a slow-motion movie, each moment stretching into infinity. Robin, increasingly immersed in Harrington’s past with that girl, couldn’t help but let the details surface in his mind. “Yes, I… did all that…” he confessed with a blush that didn’t need light to be perceived, speaking of secret encounters on the stairs, those moments stolen from time and curious eyes. “But please, I beg you not to tell Nancy! I’m trying to win her back but she doesn’t know anything about what happened when we were together…” he pleaded, his voice a whisper laden with urgency and fear. Robin’s expression, pale as the moon on a starless night, reflected the surprise and horror of realizing the presence looming behind them.

“Not know what?” asked a sweet voice, as familiar as the melody of a forgotten song. Nancy, with her friendly smile and a small wad of money in her hands, appeared like a figure from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. “What? No, nothing!” he stammered, anxiety building up in his chest like clouds before a storm, desperately seeking Robin’s complicity but finding only the void of a situation slipping out of control.

The door of the store burst open with a bang, like the prelude to a dramatic act in a play. A girl, dressed in clothes where red and black stood out. Her tight leather pants, a torn red top, accompanied by a dark jacket showing signs of being well worn, culminating with the icing on the cake: a flamboyant, teased hair, typical of glam metal enthusiasts. She made her triumphant entrance. In her hands, a movie magazine, her finger marking a page like one points to a destination. “Hey, I changed my mind, I think I’d rather watch Satan’s Mistress, it has…” you began, but your voice trailed off the moment your eyes met Steve’s.

It was a gaze that crossed years of distance, a bridge laid over an abyss of time and memories. Your former partner in sex, passion, and toxic courtship.

The reunion was a whirlwind of emotions, a vortex that swept up the fragments of a past everyone had thought overcome.

Your voice echoed in the confined space of the video store, a reminder of its former sweetness now tinged with the roughness of tobacco. “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” The Viceroy hung on your lips, a stark contrast against the burgundy tone that adorned them. With a careless gesture, you dropped the magazine you held onto a shelf full of horror movie covers, a sanctuary for lovers of fear and tension. Your black heels struck the ground with determination, each step an announcement of your presence that filled the air with an almost musical cadence. You made your way to the counter, your imposing figure leaning against the collection of VHS and DVDs that decorated the place.

“Keith…” Steve’s voice was a murmur, his eyes scanning the woman standing before him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the change; the woman he knew had been replaced by someone new, someone who defied his understanding.

Robin, on the other hand, couldn’t hide her delight. The feminine arrogance that had characterized the girl in the past had pleased her, but this… this was something completely different. It was a transformation that invited both admiration and bewilderment. “Damn…” exclaimed Robin, not trying to conceal the surprise caused by your daring neckline.

The video store had become a stage for unexpected revelations. Steve, still recovering from the initial impact, found his voice to articulate a question that burned inside him. “W-When did you come back to town?!” His voice trembled, a reflection of the nerves that assaulted him as he evoked memories of a seemingly distant past.

“Not long ago,” you responded with a calmness that contrasted with Steve’s agitation. “My father was murdered two years ago, I don’t know if you remember. So now I’m here to spend the holidays at his house, here in Hawkins.” Each word was pronounced with a serenity that belied the tragedy of your story, while the cigarette smoke curled in the air, as if trying to escape the reality of your words. Your clothing, tight and revealing, seemed like a second skin, outlining every contour of your body with exaggerated precision. Robin, from her corner behind the counter, couldn’t look away. To her, you were like a celestial vision, a fallen rocker angel who had returned with stories of distant worlds.

Nancy had become a mere shadow in those moments. Her original intention had been simple: to rent a movie at Steve’s store, a perfect excuse to spend time with you, now that you had returned. But reality had twisted in a way she couldn’t comprehend. She understood nothing.

Harrington, with a nod of acknowledgment, found himself in a sea of uncertainty, the scene before him causing a growing discomfort. “I’m sorry…” he murmured, looking away towards the ground, a gesture revealing his unease.

“Don’t worry about it, these things happen,” you responded with a voice dripping with unwavering calmness, as you flicked the ash from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. The act led you to approach the blonde girl, whose beauty was as evident as her friendly smile. Returning the smile, you noticed a glint of something undefinable in her eyes, as if you had ignited a spark of emotion within her. “Well, I guess I’ll head back to the car,” you announced, turning with an elegance that defied the gravity of your heels. “Grab whatever movie you want, Nans,” you said with a carefree tone, exiting the store and leaving behind a trail of perfume and mystery. Your steps were confident and graceful, each movement a testament to your ability to walk on those pillars of style as easily as others would walk in sneakers.

Nancy, observing the scene, felt the tension that had taken hold of Steve, his body rigid as if on the verge of breaking. Determined to ease the atmosphere, she approached him with a timid question. “Uh… do you have the movie she mentioned?” Her voice was a whisper, almost drowned out by uncertainty.

He, trapped in his own confusion, couldn’t recall the mentioned title, but Robin, with her ever-sharp attention, jumped to the rescue. “Satan’s Mistress! Yes! A horror movie from a few years back, based on a book, pretty good actually.” Her enthusiasm was palpable, her hands tracing arcs in the air as she spoke and moved with a clear purpose. She found the movie quickly, placed it on the counter, and scanned it, announcing the price to Nancy, who paid with a handful of small bills she held firmly.

Nancy was ready to bid farewell, to leave behind the video store and its memories, but something stopped her. She turned abruptly, as if a sudden idea had crossed her mind, a missing piece in the afternoon’s puzzle that needed to be placed.

Nancy’s proposal resonated in the video store like an invitation to leave the past behind and dive into new adventures. “She’s having a welcome party at her place, so she’ll invite old classmates and all that. Do you want to come?” Her voice was a mixture of enthusiasm and nervousness, aware of the surprise her announcement could cause.

Harrington, still entangled in the threads of the past, was about to decline the offer, his mouth opening to formulate an excuse. But before he could articulate a single word, Robin intervened with an energy that seemed to overflow the confines of the store. “Yes!” she exclaimed, her affirmation so loud and clear it seemed to fill every corner, even suspending the constant buzz of the fluorescent lights.

Surprised by Robin’s vehemence, Nancy gave an awkward smile, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue reflecting her embarrassment. Quickly, she shared the address and time of the party, words that hung in the air before she turned around and walked out of the video store, leaving behind a silence that draped over the place like a blanket.

The silence that had fallen over the video store was so thick it could almost be cut with a knife. The shelves filled with movies seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the next act of this unexpected human comedy.

“Steve?” Robin’s voice pierced the silence, her casual tone breaking the stillness like a stone dropped into a calm pond.

He, still lost in his thoughts, barely uttered a sound resembling an assent. “Mhhm?”

“I think I’ve wet myself,” declared Robin, with a calmness that contrasted with the nature of her announcement.

Steve couldn’t help but react. “Damn, Robin, you’re gross,” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disgust and humor. It was an accusation spoken with the lightness of camaraderie, an acknowledgment of the peculiarity of their friendship that could withstand even the strangest of revelations.

…

The screech of Steve’s car brakes blended with the music emanating from the mayor’s old mansion, an echo of youth reverberating within the walls of a building now housing those who, just two years ago, were teenagers but were now venturing into adulthood. The mansion, with its flickering lights and aura of nostalgia, was a beacon for memories of a simpler time.

Robin, with the grace of someone who had shared countless adventures in that passenger seat, lowered the car mirror and examined her reflection. Her eyes lingered on every detail of her face, ensuring her makeup would withstand the night ahead. Her hair, tousled and free as always, framed her face with a naturalness that needed no adornment. The orange T-shirt she wore, snug and adorned with yellow stripes, seemed to capture the last light of dusk. The flared jeans, swaying with each movement, and the borrowed jacket, a temporary gift from her friend, completed her outfit with a harmony of colors that spoke of her carefree and vibrant personality.

Meanwhile, Steve remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the house looming before them. The mansion brought back memories of clandestine nights, shared laughter, and whispered secrets while climbing the ivy that reached to the window of their old room. Those memories enveloped him like a cool breeze, taking him back to a time when everything seemed possible. Dressed with the same nonchalance with which he faced life, he had made no effort to dress up. His clothes, casual yet stylish in their own way, reflected his attitude towards life: simple, straightforward, and uncomplicated.

The music from the mansion grew louder, as if calling the guests to immerse themselves in the celebration. Robin, giving one last glance at the mirror, smiled satisfied and closed the compartment with a click. Steve sighed, a sigh that contained years of stories and lived moments, and with a complicit smile towards Robin, stepped out of the car.

The song filling the air was a lesser-known classic, “Turn Up The Radio” by Autograph. With its energetic and catchy rhythm, the electric guitar resonated with chords that invited leaving troubles behind and plunging into the euphoria of the moment. The singer’s voice, with its raspy and passionate tone, sang about freedom and youthful rebellion, a perfect anthem for those seeking escape in music. In the front yard, the scene was a living collage of the era. Groups of friends gathered around an Ford Mustang, its doors wide open to share the music emanating from the stereo. Laughter and conversations mingled with the sound of beer cans being opened and the sizzle of a nearby grill where burgers and sausages were being cooked.

The blonde, with her eyes wide open, couldn’t take her eyes off those strangers who seemed to have stepped out of a metal music video. Her fascination with glam style had been born just hours before when she saw you enter the store with that star aura. Curiosity had seized her, and now, seeing you at the door of the house, that curiosity turned into admiration.

You and Nancy were immersed in a conversation, but your sixth sense for important arrivals made you look up just in time to see that duo approaching. An eyebrow raised in a gesture that mixed surprise and interest. Your hair, cut in layers with a precision that only the best stylists could achieve, cascaded around your face, each strand contributing to the impressive volume that seemed to defy gravity. Robin was speechless, her mouth slightly open in a mute expression of amazement. The moonlight reflected on your leopard-print pants, making the wild patterns come to life. The corset you wore, snug and enhancing your figure, was the centerpiece of an outfit that screamed confidence and rebellion. The girl was captivated, not only by your physical appearance but also by the energy you exuded, a mix of mystery and magnetism that irresistibly attracted her. Harrington, on the other hand, seemed overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. With a sudden decision, he chose to withdraw from the scene, seeking refuge among familiar faces. He headed towards a group of former basketball teammates, greeting them with back slaps and knowing smiles. Meanwhile, Robin remained paralyzed, watching you with a mixture of admiration and a new awakening of her own style.

You watched as Steve walked away, leaving the girl alone in the midst of the party bustle. With a carefree gesture, you took the Marlboro resting behind your ear, which sported metallic hoops as witnesses to past rebellions. You lit the cigarette with the flame of a Zippo that gleamed under the starlight and began walking along the stone path, a path that evoked childhood memories and that your father had ordered to be built years ago when the mansion was still a home and not a museum of memories.

“How’s it going, blondie? Do I know you?” you asked with a confidence that seemed to emanate from your very essence, a certainty that charged the air with electricity. Robin, with her golden hair reflecting the neon lights, stood paralyzed, feeling a shiver running down her spine and erasing any other thought from her mind. The orange-haired girl who had captured her attention throughout her time in the band vanished from her consciousness, and even her own name seemed like a mystery.

“Uh-uh, I…” Robin stammered, struggling to find the words as a playful smile played on your lips, noticing her nervousness. You raised an eyebrow, a perfect arch that added emphasis to your playful expression at her discomfiture.

“I think we’ve never met…” you interrupted her attempt to reply, cutting through the air with a certainty that left little room for doubt. “I’d never forget a face like yours,” you concluded, your words hanging in the space between the two of you like a promise or a premonition. You looked her up and down, a scan that was not so much an evaluation as it was a recognition of her presence, her uniqueness. You exhaled the cigarette smoke, and it wafted through the air before dissipating in front of her face, an ephemeral veil that seemed to separate and yet unite two worlds.

Buckley blinked, an instinctive reaction to the smoke wafting through the air, and coughed slightly, a momentary interruption that brought her back to the present. A blush spread across her cheeks, a rosy hue that highlighted the concealed freckles and her eyes, which maintained an innate sweetness. “No, we’ve never met, or at least I don’t think so…” she said with a trembling voice, avoiding your gaze because she knew that if her eyes met yours, the words would be lost in the abyss of her nervousness.

You, with a smile that revealed amusement at her discomfiture, furrowed your brow and took another drag of your Marlboro, keeping the conversation going with an ease that contrasted with her uncertainty. “Uh? How’s that?” you asked amidst laughter, scanning the girl with a gaze that seemed to see beyond the surface.

“Well, we went to high school together, but you’re older than me…” Robin explained, her voice gaining a bit more firmness as the words flowed. You raised an eyebrow, a gesture that denoted both surprise and genuine interest.

“You’re still in high school?” you inquired, exhaling a new cloud of smoke that spiraled into the night sky.

Robin nodded, her gesture accompanied by a shadow of embarrassment at the age difference, and a palpable frustration at not being able to hold a normal conversation, to be that normal girl she wished to be at that moment. “Well, you don’t seem like it… you look great,” you said with a sideways smile, an expression that carried a mixture of compliment and challenge. You looked her up and down, not with judgment, but with an appreciation that made her feel seen, truly seen. You crossed your arms, and the corset you wore emitted a soft creak, a sound that seemed to be in tune with the tension and expectation hanging in the air. Robin, still recovering from the effect of the smoke and the surprise of your approach, found herself in a crossroads of emotions, between shyness and the excitement of being in the spotlight of your attention. She responded to the compliment with a charming shyness, her cheeks taking on a rosier hue as she tilted her head, allowing her short hair to brush against her skin. With a gentle and considerate gesture, you lifted her chin, encouraging her to meet your gaze. “You seem down… want a drink, …?” The pause hung in the air, an invitation for her to introduce herself.

With a frantic nod, as if just understanding the hint, she hurried to respond. “Robin. Robin Buckley. And yes, I’d love a drink. I’d love to,” she said with a voice that almost stumbled over itself, clearing her throat slightly to maintain composure. Your smile widened, and with a conspiratorial gesture, you took hold of your ex-boyfriend’s jacket sleeve and led Robin towards the house. As you walked, you shared your name and asked questions about her life, showing genuine interest in her and her story.

You made two strong drinks and led her to your backyard, a quiet and empty space that would soon be filled with your laughter and conversation. As the night wore on, and after several short trips in search of more alcohol, you both found yourselves laughing and teasing with a familiarity of old friends, which had never existed between you. “I would never have thought of that! She really does look like a Muppet,” you exclaimed, unable to contain the emphasis that alcohol liberated, sharing a genuine laugh with Robin.

The blonde’s confession hung in the night air, a revelation as unexpected as it was sincere. “I still don’t understand how I ended up liking her,” she said, the words escaping her lips before she could catch them and return them to the refuge of her thoughts. It was a moment of vulnerability, a window to her soul that she rarely allowed herself to show. Uncertainty tinged her confession; concern about revealing too much, about crossing an invisible line that could change the dynamics of the night. She didn’t want to talk about her sexuality, not because she was ashamed, but because she didn’t know yours and feared the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

Your response to Robin’s revelation was a hearty laugh, followed by a joke that added lightness to the moment. “I get you, I hooked up with one who looked like Sloth from The Goonies,” you said amidst laughter, referring to the iconic character from the adventure movie, released a year earlier.

Robin, surprised by your comment and the revelation it implied, couldn’t help but burst into explosive laughter, causing her to expel alcohol through her nose. Surprise and hilarity mingled in her reaction; she didn’t expect you to share her inclination, didn’t expect to find someone who resonated with her own experience. Anxiety and nervousness invaded her, a mix of excitement and fear at the possibility of not being alone in her feelings. The night had brought an unexpected chill, and the incident with the drink had left Robin with a wet shirt, making her tremble slightly. Noticing her discomfort, you offered a practical and kind solution. “Come on, I’ll take you to my room to change,” you suggested, guiding her through the party and into the warmth of the house.

Robin entered the room, her gaze roaming over the personal space you now shared. She sits onto the leopard-print quilt, her fingers sliding over the synthetic fur, soft and welcoming to the touch. The music, a constant and rhythmic pulse, filtered through the door, marking the beat of the night.

Meanwhile, you were immersed in the search for the perfect garment in your closet, a collection that spoke of past stories and concerts. You hummed the melody that seeped into the room, the influence of alcohol dissipating enough to allow you to focus on the task. You were looking for something that captured the essence of your new friendship without being overly flashy. Upon returning to the room, you found Robin absorbed in the photographs adorning your walls, images capturing moments of a previous version of yourself, one that contrasted with the person you were now. “What? Surprised? I looked better before, I know,” you said with a playful and ironic tone, depositing a Metallica T-shirt on the quilt and placing a hairdryer next to it, a silent invitation for Robin to dry her wet shirt.

“What?! No!” exclaimed Robin, turning with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment at being caught in her contemplation. “No, not at all… before you were very pretty, but I think… now you are more,” she articulated with difficulty, the words stumbling over each other as she clung to the furniture, seeking physical support for her emotional turmoil. The sincerity of her comment caught you by surprise, raising your eyebrows in astonishment. A smile spread across your lips, and an unfamiliar sensation, akin to butterflies fluttering in your stomach, emerged. It was an emotion you hadn’t experienced in a long time, a recognition that resonated with a part of you that had remained silent.

“Then, do you think I’m pretty, or straight up hot?” you ask, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you take measured steps toward Robin. The distance between you closes with each deliberate move, and though the question hangs lightly in the air, there’s a hint of genuine curiosity in your eyes.

Robin nods slowly, her gaze drifting from your eyes to linger on your lips, as if trying to read every nuance of your expression. “Well, let me tell you, I feel the same about you…” you say, your voice caressing each word, now just inches away from her. The tension between you is palpable, like a spark on the verge of igniting a flame. The air is charged with an electricity only proximity can generate. You can feel the warmth emanating from Robin, and every breath you take is infused with her essence. There’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air, an invitation to cross the invisible line that still separates your worlds.

“The same?” Robin asks, her tone a whisper barely daring to break the silence. Her hand rises, trembling yet determined, and brushes against the fabric of your rough corset as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. “You’re much more than pretty,” she confesses, and there’s weight in her words, a depth that goes beyond mere attraction.

“And how can I be sure you’re not lying to me? What if you’re just saying it to make me feel good?” you tease, puffing your cheeks slightly in a feigned pout that fails to hide the playful sparkle in your eyes. Robin’s hand, which had found its place over the curve of your corset, pauses for a moment, as if your words had planted the seed of doubt. But the smile playing on her lips reveals she’s enjoying the game as much as you are. Through the thick fabric, Robin’s fingers feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhalation and exhalation like a wave crashing against the shore. The closeness between you diminishes even more, and though neither of you mentions it, both can feel the electricity of the moment, as tangible as the fabric between your fingers.

“Lie to you?” Robin replies, her voice low and filled with a warmth that seems to envelop you. “There’s no need for lies when the truth is more enticing.” The confidence in her tone is enough to dispel any shadow of uncertainty, and the way her thumb gently caresses the pattern of the corset is a promise in itself.

Involuntarily, or perhaps not so much, you find yourselves even closer, the distance between you measured not in centimeters, but in heartbeats.

“Why don’t you show me then?” The question leaves your lips with a challenging tone, but your eyes shine with a mix of anticipation and amusement. She, trapped between your body and the furniture, seems to search your gaze for some sign to guide her. The proximity is inevitable, and the tension that had been building now seems on the verge of overflowing.

The space feels charged, each shared breath adding more intensity to the moment. You can feel the slight tremor in Robin’s hands, a vibration that speaks of nervousness and anticipation. The room has been reduced to this small stage where only the two of you exist, and the silence that surrounds you is a silent witness to the connection being forged.

Robin swallows, her gesture almost imperceptible, but you catch it clearly. “Show you, huh?” she says with a voice that tries to sound confident but betrays a trace of vulnerability. “I don’t need words for that.” And with a movement that breaks the last barrier of distance, her lips seek yours in a kiss that promises to be as revealing as the whispered confessions. The contact is soft at first, almost tentative, but soon gains confidence and depth.

Feeling her lips against yours, a spark of excitement ignites within you, and a victorious smile spreads across your face, illuminating the moment with a sense of silent triumph. Each brush of her lips against yours is like a perfectly tuned melody, a symphony of sensations that completely envelops you. With each kiss, you eagerly explore the softness of her lips, savoring the sweetness of the shared moment. As it continues, her hands leave the furniture and find a new refuge on your bare shoulders, conveying a sense of connection and complicity that fills you with joy. This gesture encourages you to deepen the kiss, to fully surrender to the torrent of emotions flowing between you. With instinctive impulse, your hands grip her waist firmly, feeling the firmness of her body beneath your fingers, gently caressing her, lightly scratching with your nails. Determined to explore further, you smoothly slide your hands inside her jacket, where the still damp shirt rests, like a tangible echo of the moments shared that night. The cool, damp texture of the fabric beneath your fingers reminds you of the play of contrasts of the evening, where the warmth of the encounters mingled with the freshness of the unexpected.

As the intensity of the kiss grew, your senses sharpened, capturing every detail of the experience. You could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with yours, creating a dance of sensations that enveloped you completely. When her tongue joined yours in a playful and fiery exchange, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving you only with the rapid pulse of shared passion. The grip on her waist tightened, as if you wanted to merge your bodies in an intimate, fiery embrace. As you pressed your pelvis against hers, you felt the electricity sparking between you, a current of desire flowing freely in the anticipation-filled air. With each touch, each contact, the tension between you reached new heights, leaving Robin trapped between your body and the furniture, with no escape possible. Her soft moans mixed with your own in a symphony of pleasure, every whisper, every sigh fueling the whirlwind of emotions consuming you both. Your hands eagerly explored every inch of her back, every curve, every contour, while their fingers clung to you with an urgency reflecting the unrestrained desire burning within them.

As Robin’s pleasure-filled moans echoed in the room, your own desire intensified, fueled by the sight of them writhing under your control. The need to feel her weight on the furniture consumed you, driving you to lift she and place her where you desired. With determination, you grasped one of her thighs firmly, letting your nails sink slightly into her skin as you lifted her body with one hand, making space on the furniture with the other.

With a swift gesture, you cleared the furniture of all figures and objects adorning its surface, leaving a clear space for Robin. When you finally seated her there, a sigh escaped her parted lips, momentarily interrupting the desire-laden silence enveloping you both. Breaking away from the fierce kiss, a strand of saliva stretched between your lips, a testament to the fervor with which you had surrendered to each other.

As your eyes settled just at the level of her breasts, obscured by the loose fabric of her shirt, your imagination soared, visualizing every curve and contour hidden beneath the cloth. Biting your lower lip eagerly, you seized their buttocks firmly, drawing her body towards yours with an irresistible force. A faint cry escaped Robin’s lips at the unexpected surge of passion, but her hands soon caressed your neck tenderly, desperately seeking your lips.

Playfully, you moved out of her reach, enjoying the seductive game unfolding between you both. Until, finally, you succumbed to the overwhelming desire and united your lips in a kiss even hotter and wetter than before. The taste of her mouth, the sensation of her breath mingling with yours, created a symphony of pleasure that enveloped you completely, making you forget everything but the warmth of the moment shared between you both.

Robin, determined to intensify the moment, decided to encircle you with her slender thighs, drawing your body closer to hers in a gesture filled with desire. You could feel the warmth emanating from her groin, colliding against your corset and eliciting a playful giggle that escaped between your lips, briefly separating you from the kiss. At that moment, Robin noticed the change in your expression and felt momentarily bewildered, thinking she might have done something wrong. She looked at you with a mixture of puzzlement and concern, but before she could articulate a word, you broke the tension with a daring joke.

“I think your shirt isn’t the only thing that got wet…” you said with a mischievous smile, quickly changing Robin’s expression. Without averting your gaze from hers, you slid two of your fingers down her lower thigh with a provocative gentleness, sending a shiver of anticipation through her body. The sexual tension between you intensified, turning the air around you into an electrifying blend of desire and playfulness. “See?” You decided to intensify the game and explore Robin’s groin more deeply, guided by the heat emanating from that area. With bold determination, you slid your fingers downward, finding the place where the heat was most intense. You plunged your fingers into the damp denim fabric, feeling the hot texture and the moisture seeping through it. You were mere millimeters away from her wet pussy, separated only by two thin layers of fabric that heightened the tension and anticipation between you.

For Robin, this experience was almost unfamiliar; she had experienced something similar only once before, so she felt like an inexperienced person in the middle of an ocean of unfamiliar sensations. She didn’t know how to react or what to do, but her breathing became more irregular, and her heart pounded with strength, reflecting the intensity of the moment and her own emerging desire. She opted to tightly close her eyes and squeeze your shoulder, which you found endearing.

Your eyes slid over every nuance of her expression, capturing each change in her features with surgical precision. Every time you increased the pressure of your caresses, you could feel Robin’s body responding with slight tremors, unmistakable signs of her excitement and craving for more. With each calculated touch, your fingers explored the unknown terrain of Robin’s groin, while your lips found refuge on the soft skin of her neck. The atmosphere was charged with palpable tension, as if every sigh were an echo of the passion growing between you.

Meanwhile, your other hand ventured over the smooth contour of her opposite thigh, tracing comforting circles on her sensitive skin. The combination of sensations immersed her in a whirlwind of pleasure and anticipation, caught between the desire to surrender completely and the caution of the unknown.

The slight spasms emanating from her body were like small navigation signals, indicators that you were touching the right places, the access points to her ecstasy. Each brush against that sensitive button was like striking a key on a piano, unleashing a symphony of moans and sighs that resonated in the room like a melody of shared pleasure.

As your lips explored every inch of her neck with devotion, your hands continued their captivating dance over the contours of her thighs, delicately caressing every curve and angle. Robin was completely tense, her body vibrating with anticipation and repressed desire, but her responses were a whispering echo of her longing for more. With a slightly husky voice, you ventured to ask her if she was enjoying it, letting the whisper of your words mingle with the whisper of silk in the air. Her nod was barely perceptible, drowned out by the tension consuming her completely. So, you decided to tempt her even more, offering her the promise of even greater pleasure if she allowed you. Between licks and kisses on her neck, you suggestively slid your words, letting each syllable resonate in the desire-filled air.

With a mischievous smile dancing on your lips, you relished the effect of your words on Robin, observing how her desperation was reflected in every gesture and tremor of her body. You tilted your head slightly, allowing your warm, moist breath to caress her ear, leaving a tantalizing trail of saliva with your hot, eager tongue.

Amidst warm giggles, you ventured to ask a question laden with anticipation and desire, whispering it into her ear with irresistible playfulness. “Have you ever been eaten out?” The tension in the air was palpable, and everything about Robin seemed to bristle at your words. It was evident that this was a new experience for her, an unknown territory that plunged her into a mixture of anxiety and excitement. With a barely perceptible nod of her head, she slowly shook her head, swallowing hard at the prospect of the unknown. In response to her answer, you raised an eyebrow, savoring the anticipation of what was to come. With a suggestive gesture, you licked your lips, fixing your gaze on hers with an intensity that was almost palpable. “Well, then I feel lucky to be the first…” you teased softly, letting out a playful giggle as you lowered your body. You found yourself on your knees in front of her, your face at the level of her crotch still covered by her flared pants. However, the moisture seeped through the denim fabric, revealing the intensity of the desire that consumed her. “Wow… I’ve never seen any girl get this wet for me…” you complimented with a smile, as you began to unbutton the buttons holding her pants, slowly lowering them with your gaze locked on hers.

She slowly raised her hips towards you, making the process easier with a trembling gesture of anticipation and effort.

You tossed Robin’s jeans somewhere in the room, leaving her standing before you in her underwear. She covered herself shyly, lightly squeezing her thighs as she avoided your direct gaze. A silly giggle escaped your lips when you noticed the Care Bears design on her panties, which didn’t go unnoticed by Robin. She felt embarrassed, and you could clearly perceive it in her expression. To reassure her, you emphasized that it was just a joke, trying to lighten the awkward moment and make her feel more comfortable with herself. With a determined yet gentle movement, you carefully parted Robin’s thighs, revealing her panties completely soaked. Every inch of fabric was saturated with moisture, from the waistband to the elastic on the legs. The transparency of the fabric exposed her intimacy, allowing you to see directly her pussy. The inner thighs were damp, and the core of the panties was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, creating an intimate scene charged with anticipation. Although Robin felt vulnerable in that moment, her trust in you was also evident, allowing you to access such a private place of her being. With a soft sigh, you moistened your lips before bringing them closer to her underwear, placing delicate and deep kisses on the soaked fabric. Each kiss elicited louder moans from Robin, whose breathing became irregular as her thighs lightly clenched against your face. You could feel the frantic beat of her heart resonating in the air, as if it were vibrating right down there. With a mischievous smile on your lips, you decided to give a playful lick through her panties, tasting the salty flavor of her excitement on your tongue. You looked up and met Robin’s eyes, whose expression mixed desperation and anticipation. One hand impatiently pushed her hair aside, while the other grasped her right thigh, unsure of what to do with it in that moment of intensity. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could see how her cheeks were slightly flushed with the embarrassment and excitement that engulfed her. With a determined movement, you pushed her panties aside, revealing her wet and eager pussy to your caresses. You began by softly licking her outer lips, enjoying the salty taste of her excitement as you prepared for the task ahead. You could feel the hand resting on her thigh inching closer to your hair, seeking something to hold onto to face the whirlwind of sensations that was about to come. You responded with a smile, ready to give Robin the pleasure she so eagerly craved. When you finally connected your mouth with her pussy, the deep moan that escaped the blonde’s lips resonated in the room. Your first lick was intense, exploring every corner of her sex with a fervor that left no doubt about your desire to satisfy her. Her hand, now gripping your hair, pressed you against her crotch, urging you to continue.

With closed eyes, you surrendered completely to the act, licking fiercely as if you were famished for her. Every encounter of your lips with her pleasure button caused a shiver through her body, accompanied by moans that echoed in the air and fueled your own excitement. You devoted yourself to playing with her, alternating between soft licks and delicate suctions, exploring every fold and crevice of her intimacy with a devotion that knew no bounds.

Robin moaned your name desperately as you devoted yourself to fulfilling each of her desires. With every skillful movement of your tongue, you took her beyond the limits of pleasure, bringing her closer to ecstasy with a mastery that only the deepest desire could bestow. You could feel her on the brink of orgasm, her body trembling with the anticipation of the impending release.

When she finally reached that climax, it was with a burst of pleasure that left her breathless, clinging tightly to your hair and pressing your face against her sex in a desperate embrace. Her confidence grew with each passing second, surrendering completely to pleasure and seeking to satisfy her own needs with a passion that left you breathless.

Your face was soaked with her fluids, every inch of your skin covered by the testimony of her pleasure. The sensation of her essence dripping down your skin added a new level of intensity to the experience, fueling the fire burning within you.

When you pulled away from her pussy after her orgasm, you looked at her with a passion that overflowed all known limits. You were more excited than ever, driven by the desire to satisfy your own needs and to push her to the limit once again.

You wiped your face with your arm and guided her to your bed with an impulse you couldn’t contain. With determination, you positioned yourself on top of her, ready to continue exploring the pleasures that only the encounter between two eager bodies could offer.

As you freed yourself from the garment covering your lower part, you revealed a leopard lace thong that immediately caught Robin’s attention. Her gaze lingered on the revelation of your lingerie, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and fascination. The lack of words from Robin was evident, and you could feel the tension in the air as she processed the situation.

For her, this territory was completely new. She had never experienced anything beyond kisses and hugs, and her sexual education was limited to what she had seen and heard through occasional conversations with friends or what she had heard on television. The lack of practical experience and exposure to explicit material, such as magazines or porn videos, left her without a clear frame of reference to understand what was happening in that moment.

Faced with her confusion, you decided to take the lead, gently guiding her with your actions and words, creating a safe space where she could explore and discover new sensations without fear or pressure. Your intention was to make her feel comfortable and secure in this new territory, and your understanding and affectionate attitude reflected that desire.

With a compassionate smile on your lips, you made an effort to explain the situation clearly and calmly, aware of Robin’s inexperience in this unknown area. The conversation flowed naturally, despite the nerves present in the atmosphere.

Upon hearing your proposal, Robin showed curiosity mixed with a hint of disbelief, which made you chuckle. Her innocent questions reflected her unfamiliarity with the intimate world and made you smile at her candor.

With patience, you assured her that what they were about to do was pleasurable for both, despite the lack of a traditional element. The absence of a “cock” was not an obstacle, but rather an advantage in this scenario, as you pointed out with a mischievous smile as you removed the thong, revealing your own intimacy, which, although not as soaked as Robin’s, throbbed with anticipation.

You guided Robin gently, indicating how to position herself to carry out this new experience. Although she was initially bewildered, she trusted you and followed your instructions, letting herself be carried away by curiosity and the excitement of the moment.

When your soaked sexes brushed against each other, sending a shiver through her entire body, Robin experienced a wave of new and exciting sensations. The friction between your bodies caused an involuntary spasm in her hips, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to move in search of more pleasure. With each movement, she satisfied your need for stimulation, creating a symphony of shared pleasure that enveloped both of you in mutual ecstasy.

With a palpable urgency, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, rubbing your sex against Robin’s with unrestrained passion. The need for mutual satisfaction drove your movements as you firmly grasped her thigh to keep her in place, ensuring that she could delight in this experience as much as you. Each strategic brush hit precisely the spot that unleashed waves of pleasure in Robin, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy time and time again. Shared moans and lascivious sounds filled the room, mingling with the shared moisture that flooded the air. The intensity of the moment prompted you to change position, placing yourself on top of Robin with the skill of years of experience. With fluid and precise movements, you moved over her pussy with a mastery that only desire and mutual connection could bestow.

As you shifted, Robin’s shirt gradually rode up, revealing her left breast swaying to the rhythm of your synchronized movements. Every movement was a dance of unbridled passion, as her golden hair cascaded over her face and onto the bed, adding a touch of sensuality to the scene. Together, you created a symphony of ecstasy and shared pleasure that enveloped you both in a bubble of happiness and satisfaction.

With each hip movement, the accumulated tension reached its peak until finally, in an explosion of shared ecstasy, you reached climax together. You might have taken a few seconds longer to reach the peak, but the synchrony of your orgasms was perfect, causing spasms and tremors in your intertwined bodies.

“Mhhmm… yes…” A torrent of overwhelming sensations engulfed you, plunging you into an ocean of pleasure and mutual satisfaction. Every muscle tensed and relaxed in harmony with the other, while moans of pleasure filled the room. It was as if time stood still in that moment of shared ecstasy, leaving only the whisper of your ragged breaths and the frenetic beating of your hearts.

After reaching climax, your bodies slowly relaxed, enveloped in a feeling of peace and fulfillment. The intimate connection you had shared left you with a sense of deep satisfaction, strengthening the bond between you and creating unforgettable memories of that unique and exciting experience.

After the shared climax, a cry of excitement escaped your lips, breaking the ecstasy of the moment and separating you from the mess you had caused. “Fuck!” Turning away from Robin, you lit a cigarette with a careless gesture, while smoke curled in the passion-filled air. “You should go with Steve, I’m off for a beer,” you said with the cigarette between your lips, not bothering to search for your underwear, just covering yourself with a skirt you found lying around.

Robin, exhausted and confused, didn’t know what to do as you walked away. She collapsed onto the bed, her body still vibrating with the intensity of the encounter, but her mind flooded with unanswered questions. Nearly 40 minutes later, Steve’s knocks echoed in the hallway, searching for Robin. “Robin?” his voice echoed from afar, opening and closing doors in his frantic search. Steve feared the worst as he approached the last remaining door: yours. Although he had never entered through that door before, always preferring the window, this time he fervently hoped that Robin wouldn’t be there.

“Robin!” he called out loudly, rousing her from her stupor. Steve opened the door with determination, only to be met with the shocking scene of his friend hastily getting dressed, shouting and closing her eyes with a guilty expression.

“Damn it, Robin, seriously?!” his voice was filled with frustration and concern as he watched the chaos before him, not fully understanding what he had just witnessed.

[caitas-cooing]

"Being able to revive Chidori and save Shinjiro in FemC's route goes against the themes of persona 3" is a take a see a lot, but it's never been one I personally agree with.

Death is a big part of persona 3, but the inevitability of death is not the only thing persona 3 is about. This game is about death and loss and how nothing last forever, but it's also about life and love and the importance of making the most out of life. It's about how it's worth making connections with people even if parting with them is inevitable. It's about how fighting for the things that you believe in is worth it even if you can't save it forever. Even if you save Chidori and Shinjiro it doesn't change the fact that death is inevitable, in Shinji's case he is still going to die sometime soon unless they can speedrun research that undoes the effects of the suppressants that he's been taking which seems highly unlikely. Yet they were still saved today, and that matters.

Another thing I think people don't take into account a theme that all modern persona games share and that is that the connections that you form with other people can make you stronger, or to put it a different way the power of friendship is just as much a thing here as it is in a Kingdom Hearts game. Persona 4 is probably the most obvious with this ("bonds of people is the true power" is literally text the appears on screen after the ending sequence in the persona 4 anime I don't think you spell it out any clearer than that) but it's a theme in all 3 games and it's something that appears in both the gameplay and narrative, from the way social links and confidants increase the amount personas level up when you fuse them, the confidants abilities in persona 5, the way visions of your maxed out confidants appear in front of the protags at the end of 3 and 4 and urge you to keep going just a little bit longer. They are what help to form the great seal. They help Yu and Joker defeat the gods and in their games (and also his therapist that one time). This is just another instance of that. If you seek or Shinjiro and form a social link with him despite his rough exterior not only do you get stronger but you also gain the ability to stop his death. It's not easy, maxing out a social link in a month is something you have to be deliberate about, and the game doesn't tell you where to find the pocket watch. It's something you have to go out of your way to get, but if you do it anyway you can impact the ending of this arc of the story in a positive way.

I think Junpei and Chidori's situation is an even cooler instance of the power that bonds can have in this universe because in this case the protag is not even directly involved in the relationship. They only give Junpei the push he needs to keep the relationship going even though Chidori is trying to pull her walls back up. All he need is to be encouraged not to give up and he keeps trying to keep that bond alive and strong all by himself, and because he took action and she kept reviving the flowers with her powers every time he showed up Chidori was able to not only be saved but also had the effects of the suppressants reversed. Things aren't 100% as they were before, Chidori no longer has the potential which means she only has a vague idea of the time she and Junpei spent together (and that makes sense as well because Medea fused with Hermes after she revived Junpei, so her persona is literally a part of his persona now she literally could not get it back) but she's alive, and she remembers the warmth and kindness of the time she and Junpei spent together even if the specific events are no longer there, and based on the way Junpei reacted to finding out I think that's enough for both of them. Junpei and Chidori relationship saved her beyond all odds because he went out of his way to keep the relationship strong and she still cared about him enough to keep reviving the flowers. One of the most powerful examples of the way connections can save others in a persona game to me.

[onyourowndaisymae]

hi!!!!!! can i request the minecraft post u did for the dateables but for the brothers? i love ur writing sm it's so cute <3333

obey me brothers playing minecraft with you

thank you so much for the love <33 this was actually a lot of fun to write because all of these men are so very ridiculous. cheers to my first ever request!

[dateables version]

content warnings: language, bullying the villagers, killing the animals, you know how minecraft is

prompt: you've somehow convinced these guys to play minecraft, a human world game, one night, just the two of you. but how exactly does that experience go?

{established relationship, obey me x reader with the brothers}

Lucifer

oh. oh peepaw.

you really have to coax this man into playing with you. he's perfect at everything, all the time-- to engage in activity like this one, in front of you of all people, wounds his ego more than he'd like to admit. he doesn't want you to see him be bad at something. what if you no longer respect him? what if his inability to comprehend the little block people's actions are enough to ruin your love for him? he's genuinely distressed about this (not that he'd let it show), but you seem interested, so he reluctantly agrees.

two key things are necessary when playing minecraft with lucifer: patience and teamwork.

leaving him to do any task alone is daunting. the perfectionism paralyzes him a bit in these moments. take him with you! collect wood together, mine in the same mineshaft, hunt monsters together-- all of it starts to ease his mind when you work together. he starts to focus not on his pride but his love for you and spending quality time by your side.

as time progresses, he does eventually get a grip in the controls and mechanics-- well, as much as you can expect a dinosaur like him to understand. you still do a lot of tasks together in-game, but it's more of camaraderie thing by that point. he just likes being by your side, okay? don't make him say it, or you'll be hunting monsters by yourself bestie.

lucifer is also a really big fan of the soundtrack. it's so simple yet well-composed, a stark different to that garish video game music levi listens to. please play with the sound up and let him enjoy the sound of the rain intermingling with the music; his relaxed face is very cute.

Mammon

what's that? you wanna play minecraft with the great mammon? of course you do! he's gonna be the best player you've ever seen, just ya wait-- what's that? no, he's never touched the game before, but he knows he'll be fantastic. watch and learn, baybee, cuz the great mammon is here to show up and show out.

what he lacks in skill, he makes up several times over in enthusiasm. this is important, because he absolutely lacks skill.

mammon is a dangerous combination of unobservant and overenthusiastic, leading to every stupid situation you can think of. he thinks he sees an important resource, so he leaves for juuust a second... boom. he's lost. he somehow manages to attract lava in every. single. cave. at this point, you have to ban him from carrying anything important.

one thing he is good at is monster hunting. he's made it his mission from day 1 to protect you, whether it be real life or in a video game. he'll face a monster-- enderman, creeper, sneaky skeleton, you name it-- without an ounce of fear if it means you'll live another in-game day (some might call this excessive, but you just call it cute).

like everything with mammon, sometimes his instinct to protect you goes overboard. he tries to ban you from entering the mines and going outside at night because what if a monster gets you, human?? fortunately for you, he never figured out how to run in-game, so just sprint past him and carry on.

on a completely unrelated note-- this greedy motherfucker (said with SO much affection) hordes all the treasures in-game like a dragon. his goal is to build you two a mansion of diamond and gold. this is very cute if you once again ignore the fact that he keeps FALLLING IN LAVA with all his vauables. y'all are never getting anywhere in this game.

Leviathan

levi is, hands down, the best person to play minecraft with. you don't have to teach him a thing-- in fact, he's probably the one that brought it up to you!

he's very pleased that you'd indulge in one of his hobbies like this, regardless of whether you actually play video games or not. just the thought of you there, sitting next to him, hanging out with him because you want to be around a shut-in otaku like him... the thought gives him butterflies.

... y'all can't actually share a house by the way. he gets too flustered. make a joke about putting your minecraft beds together and he's blushing. it does not matter how long you've been together, his reaction will always be the same.

he's one of the only ones that you can progress through the game with. bashful levi is amazing in the mines. he's got a system down pat that'll help you guys find your way back to the entry point, where he's set up a base camp with chests and resources so you won't have to resurface until you're done. smart, right?

y'all actually go to the nether and the end. he's very quick to pick up the game's mechanics and use his luck to to help you guys progress. every victory is shared; what's the fun of winning if you're not winning together?

levi will play with you basically any time you ask. he loves when you refer to it as "our minecraft world". better yet, praise him for all his hard work in making your world and watch him melt. he's just a sucker for your love, and the fact that he's actually good at this activity makes him all the more happy to do it with you.

Satan

satan doesn't really know much about this game that you're describing, but he's willing to play it with you if you're really that interested. he's always ready to learn more about things from the human world; when you tell him this is one of the most popular games up on earth, he wants to try it at least once.

satan is not the best in general at video games, but he's quick-witted and resourceful, so the two of you get by just fine. the problem mostly lies in the fact that satan's audacity gets you into trouble sometimes. there is no little voice in his head telling him not to do something potentially dangerous and stupid, especially if there's some reward to gain on the other side. he is fully convinced he can take on an iron golem with a stone sword and no armor, just you watch--

be carefully with letting him run around freely. there's lots of ways to die in this game, and each failure pokes at the embers of wrath below his cool exterior.

this intelligent lil guy figures out redstone pretty damn quick. he'll use this knowledge to create lots of little creations meant to make your camp better. whether or not this actually helps is an entirely different story... but look! a gate! aren't you so proud of him? (please praise him, he needs it so bad)

and you wouldn't be playing with satan if all progress didn't come to a stop the moment he spots an ocelot. when you tell him you can befriend them, he's overjoyed. look at how cute they are! one ocelot turns into two, then three, then four... suddenly there's a small army of ocelots in your house that he's caring for. y'all better make room in your joint minecraft bed or satan will feel like a bad cat dad. he's so ridiculous and i love him

Asmodeus

this man plays minecraft with his priorities straight-- he spends way too long creating a cute character skin to play with, then builds a cute house and decorates it to the nines, then focuses on finding himself the cutest armor and weapons... all before doing literally anything productive, btw.

do not expect asmodeus to be much help. he's mostly there for moral support. he cannot do things "for survival" like gathering food and resources or building a starter home. everything must be perfect, or it doesn't get done. asmo did not craft himself a bed until he was able to dye the wool pink and have a cute pink bed. he cannot bring himself to live in an ugly house, so you either need to help him or listen to him whine about getting rained on or attacked by monsters until he's done.

this is not to imply that playing with asmo is not fun!!

asmo is not a monster hunter, a miner, or any good at gathering resources. however, his experience with makeup makes him insanely creative. while you might not have a house for several days, the end result even gives barbatos' house a run for its money. his decor is always very cute and clean, soft even in the blocky 2D world. he'll make your whole base camp aesthetically pleasing if you let him (please let him-- his smile is worth it).

asmo often finds himself a damsel in distress. he'll fall in holes and get very confused, scream when he gets attacked, and generally need you to protect him at every turn. succeed, though, and he'll hail you as one of the most amazing people he's ever met. the game will be discarded as he throws his arms around you, kissing you all over the face and showering you in praises, all for saving his house from a stray creeper.

oh, and he'll definitely put your beds next to each other and smirk at you. what did you expect from the avatar of lust? cornball

Beelzebub

sweet, beloved baby beel. he's ready and willing to play with you whenever. if you want to make some actual progress, prepare lots of snacks and set a cozy atmosphere to keep him full and content. playing with the avatar of gluttony does require a little prep in that regard.

this (metaphorical) angel really has a hard time killing any of the livestock. he apologizes aloud anytime he has to slay one and explains to the poor creature why he's killing them. sorry, little sheep guy, but you two need to make beds. the cows make him feel especially bad because they remind him of belphie.

he's really big on making sure you guys have a secure, safe home to hide away in. sometimes, things get really overwhelming in the game, so he wants you to have a space where you feel safe and protected enough to calm down. this bunker is definitely a bit ugly, but we can't win them all.

play with him long enough and all the food will start looking really tasty to him. that bread looks a little too real, doesn't it, mc? and that cake is so life-like... redirect him to his snack horde, stat.

he also wants to do all of your tasks together. when he's there with you, he can make sure you're safe or offer you help when your struggling to complete a task on your own. he want to make sure you're having fun! let him help you, please, it makes him feel loved. he likes spending time with you.

definitely doesn't get the "putting your minecraft beds together" joke. you can either explain the to him and watch him blush, or let him live with the assumption that it's for extra cuddle room.

Belphegor

you've got to coax belphie into playing with you for a few days, because honestly? that sounds like a lot of work. not only does he have to participate, but he's also got to learn, too? he's already yawning just talking about it all.

he'll eventually snuggle in with his back against your chest and your arms clumsily holding the controller in front of him. he doesn't particularly care that this position makes gaming difficult for you, not when you're cuddling him like this. it's really a win-win situation in his eyes: he'll play the little block game if you shower him in unconditional affection any time he wants. what a deal! his youngest child energy really shows in times like these.

belphie is heartless when it comes to raiding villages and collecting resources. what's that? you feel bad? they're not real, mc. they don't have feelings. they don't care that you're stealing from them. if it really makes you feel bad he'll stop, but he will complain about how much easier things could have been if you'd just robbed a village or two.

somehow, some way, he's also super lucky?? he'll stumble upon rare resources with little to no effort and snicker about how you're still scrambling for supplies. don't worry, he'll share. only if you beg, though. go on. he wants to hear it. maybe, maybe he'll be willing to give you the diamonds he found if you convince him. (what a fucking menace!)

he will, eventually, fall asleep while playing. the music is too soft and your arms around him are too warm for him to not drift off. that's okay. carefully take the controller away from him, save the game, shut down the system, and settle in for the night. he'll cuddle closer in his sleep, unconsciously touched by the gesture, and drag you into dreamland with him.