#and if that happens it won't be for another decade plus

[lizzybeeee]

Well, shit.

RIP Dragon Age.

[uhhhj13iguess]

prepare yourself

avenger!peter parker x avenger! reader

summary: peter loses you on a mission, and it's worse than he could've imagined

wc: 3.5k

cw: body gore! mdni! i wanted to experiment with writing body horror, so it gets very graphic when detailing injuries/mutilation. there's no description of the actual events happening, just a lot of wording around the body designed to hopefully make you feel a bit squeamish!

if anyone wants, i'd love to do a part two with the medical-side juxtaposition as well, and give a sweet lil peter ending to turn this angst into fluff

masterlist

peter shot one last web towards the wall, concluding his mural of men webbed along the hallway outside the security room. he gave himself a proud smile, admiring his work.

"you're telling me these guys are hydra? for a decades-long terrorist organization, they sure don't know how to train their front line very well."

you snickered beside him, sliding another bloodied man along the tiled floor to where you'd piled the others.

"i don't get why tony has us on security watch, this is light work. why even have me train under nat if i can't use my skills in practice? i wanna get my hands dirty, i wanna know what they aren't telling us." you kicked the foot of the man below you, turning to peter and giving him a frown. he offered you a knowing smile in return.

"yeah, i get what you mean. come on, lets just get in there and disable the security measures. then we can go back to the jet and try that chocolate i bought at the sokovian 7-eleven."

you grinned at him, heart swelling at the thought of some alone time with peter before the rest of the team was done.

"alright. you head in, i'm going to do one more sweep of the first floor while you're in there."

peter felt his senses go off for a second, a weird feeling in his chest. "i don't know, maybe we shouldn't split up."

you gave him a look. "what, you don't think i can handle myself? come on, you know we've cleared this floor already. plus, you've got like, three buttons to hit and we're home free, it won't be that long."

"yeah, but—"

"but nothing, spidey. come on, work your tech magic and meet me out here."

he let out a breath, shaking off whatever bad feeling was sitting in his stomach. "yeah, you're probably right. one sec,"

peter ducked into the security room, a dissonant beep ringing through the air as he held the keycard to the lock. the light flashed green and let him in. he laughed, "thanks bad guys!"

he heard you chuckle from down the hall as he made his way into the room, a smile on his face. he would never admit it to you, but he liked that you two were handed the short stick on missions. you were in and out, leaving time alone before the rest of the team came back, and he relished those moments more than any chance of glory.

he reached the switchboard, glancing at the monitors as he saw the rest of the team on the cameras making their rounds on various floors. "god we're so badass."

(y/n) was right: it was a matter of exactly three commands before he had the systems disabled. he heard tony through his comms,

"thanks, kid. now, do us all a favor and get yourself to the jet. this shouldn't take long."

peter smiled to himself, a feeling of accomplishment coursing through him. did he press literally there buttons? yes. but he pressed three buttons as an avenger. man, that would never grow old.

he heard commotion from down the hall and called out towards you. "alright (y/n), we've had our fun. stop messing with them and let's fuck up some chocolate, shall we?"

he was met with silence, his chest feeling tight again. "(y/n)?"

he took one step out of the room before his head was met with a metal fist, the CRACK of his own skull ringing through his ears before he lost consciousness.

tony jerked back as his hand repulsor let out a blast, sending the guy on steve's back to the ground with a heavy thud.

"mr. stark, both peter and (y/n) have gone unconscious." FRIDAY echoed through the suit. his blood ran cold.

"what?"

"both of them are in the building and their vitals are stable, however, they've both just lost consciousness within one minute of each other."

he felt his breathing pick up, his heartbeat commanding in his chest. he looked to steve and nat. "you guys good?"

nat threw a nasty headbutt, sending the agent in front of her collapsing to the ground. "go, tony."

he flew out without another word.

"FRIDAY, get me their most recent location."

"head to the security room, sir. take a left now."

tony reached the room in a matter of a minute, missiles out and on guard. he announced himself before storming the room, standing down once met with peter on the ground, no one else around him. he rushed out of his suit and to his side, shaking the boy relentlessly.

"kid, come on. wake up."

a few more desperate shakes and peter was gasping for air, fists flying and ready to fight.

"woah woah woah, hey— you're alright, you're okay. same sides, just me."

peter stalled his movements, taking a deep breath and allowing himself to grab ahold of his surroundings. he sat up slowly before immediately regretting it. man, did his head hurt.

"kid, you alright? you're bleeding. take of the mask, i need to see it." tony reached towards him, only to be swatted at.

"mr. stark, someone'll see!"

"kid, the floor is clear. i'm pretty sure you're responsible for that. jesus, how hard did you hit your head?" he pressed the spider emblem on peter's chest, revealing his blood-stained curls.

"pete, what the hell happened? for fucks sake, we need to get you out of here. FRIDAY, admister morphine."

"what? no, mr. stark don't— OW! mr. stark, what the hell??"

"kid, you're going to thank me in ten minutes. where's (y/n)?"

peter felt his mouth go dry. "w-what do you mean 'where's (y/n)''?"

tony's face fell. "shit. okay kid, let's get you to the jet. sam?" he called into his comms.

"yeah tony, what's up?"

"get down here, i need you to get eyes on (y/n)."

peter shot up instantly, his mask climbing back up his face. "no, mr. stark, really. i'm fine. i can feel it healing already, honest. i have to find (y/n)."

"we aren't having a discussion on this."

"you're right, we're not."

peter took off, flying down the hallway and out of sight before tony could even get back in his suit.

"karen, show me heat signatures."

the team searched for a while, leaving no one in their way untouched. the fight to find you was growing tireless, and the more time that passed without a trace of you led to more panic spreading amongst the team — peter worst of all.

he'd grown feral in his search for you, bloodying any body he encountered.

"kid, we should head back to the jet. we need to gameplan this." tony rang through his suit.

"no. mr stark, her tracker is still in the compound and she's close enough to read vitals on."

"pete, we—"

"she's in pain, mr. stark. i'm not leaving this building without her."

peter continued to search for hours, detailing every single room in the building. he spent the most time in the room your tracker had led him to, but helpless as he couldn't find you anywhere nearby. he had screamed your name for the majority of the search, his throat raw as his own healing couldn't even keep up with his efforts. he felt the blood warm on the back of his throat, accompanying the warm flood of tears down his cheeks.

"this is all my fault." he let out a horse whimper, bouncing his head up against the brick wall in front of him.

he felt hopeless. he felt like the world was crashing around him, a wretched feeling in his chest ripping him apart from the inside. this was all his fault, he didn't—

the bricks against his forehead ground against one another before shifting backwards, causing peter to jerk his head up. he stared wide eyed to a portion of the wall having fallen back as though on hinges, a long hallway now standing in front of him.

"a secret door. you're kidding." he breathed to himself. "mr. stark?"

"yeah, kid?" tony rang through.

"i found a door hidden in the wall right where (y/n)'s location is. i'm going in."

"i'll be there in 30 seconds."

peter sighed to himself before stepping his foot over the threshold and down the concrete-lined hallway.

"this would've been way cooler 5 hours ago."

tony landed in the room, eyes on the hole in the wall as he made his way down. he spotted peter ahead of him, not quite to the room at the other end.

"mr. stark, i have (y/n)'s heat signature in the room about twenty yards ahead. she's alive, but her vital signs are unstable. i'll prepare the jet for medical intervention." FRIDAY alerted.

tony gave a deep sigh as he approached peter, a hand falling on his chest and preventing him from walking any further.

"mr. stark, what are you— we have to go, sir!"

"kid, just wait a second. i need you to be prepared for anything, okay? they had (y/n) for almost five hours, and you know what we came here for originally. just, prepare yourself."

peter scowled, a look of of uncertainty overtaking his features as though he was at war with himself. he met tony's gaze. "this is all my fault."

"hey, pete. you know that's not true. you're lucky we aren't finding you in this room too."

peter took a shakey inhale, turning back to the opening of the cold room before them. "i'll feel lucky when i have her out of here."

and with that, peter ran. he navigated the room, desperately following your heat signature as tony focused on the agents and scientists in the room. he hoped peter was entirely focused on getting to you because he sure as hell wasn't following the "no-kill" rule this time around.

with everyone else taken care of, peter ran to the other end of the room where karen had traced you. and while tony had done his best, there was nothing peter could've done to prepare himself for what he saw.

you were on the concrete floor, clothes ripped and shivering from the frigid temperature of the room. your eyes were closed as you flinched from the noises around you, but it wasn't your demeanor that stopped him dead in his tracks.

there you laid, at complete mercy of those around you. thick tubes entered your body through your arms and chest, a viscous, black sludge coursing into you. it leaked out around the edges, your torn skin wet from not only the liquid but from the amount of blood lost as well.

the tubes protruded two from each forearm and one on either side of your collarbones, each breath stretching the skin around them and causing more tearing on your chest. peter could see the outline of the tubing in your arms, your skin bulging as the tubes fished themselves up to your biceps. the sight made him lightheaded, beginning to panic as he fought to believe what his eyes were showing him.

the scent of everything brought tears to his eyes, a sickly sweet smell in the air as your body fought hard to reject everything that was happening. it was foul, a putrid scent similar to that of rotten fruit flooding his nose and raising bile in his throat. had it been from the stench alone, peter would've thought you'd been dead for hours.

he took a step closer to you and there was a crunch underneath his right foot. he lifted it and looked down, confusion coating his features. and then, there was nothing but terror.

he leaned down to pick up a tooth, skimming the area to notice another few molars scattered around your limp body. his eyes met with the bloodied pair of pillars on the ground, giving new and nightmarish reasoning to your blood-soaked mouth. peter looked back up to you and felt his knees give out.

he crawled closer, not daring to touch you to make anything worse. now, he got a better look at your face, and he almost wished he hadn't.

blood pooled down your chin and dripped onto your chest, notably from the missing teeth and whatever else they'd done to you that peter couldn't see evidence of. you let out a cough, but it came out more as a gag, blood filling your mouth at a higher rate than your body could handle. you choked, new waves of red liquid spilling from your lips and splattering across your torso as you fought to breathe.

somehow it wasn't your mouth that made peter feel faint, however. it was your eyes.

your eyelids had been crudely sewn shut, crusted over and bloody. your soft lids were torn to shreds, the flesh ripped raw — no doubt from unconscious efforts to open your eyes.

you let out a ragged breath. "hello? w-who's there?"

peter watched your eyes move underneath the lids frantically, the movement only proving his assumption correct as he watched the skin pull against the thread, flesh tearing apart at the struggle.

"hey hey hey, stop moving, please. calm down, it's just me. it's peter,"

he couldn't help the quiver in his voice, his body betraying him as tears flooded down his cheeks under the mask.

"i'm going to get you out of here, okay? i-i just need you to trust me, okay? i'm gonna get you out of here, i promise."

you nodded, the minimal movement enough to elicit a sharp cry from deep in your throat. peter winced, placing a hand on your head and running his fingers through your hair, careful not to get too close to your eyes.

"pete, i-i, please, i don't..."

karen's voice pierced through his mask, drowing out your pleas. "peter, we're losing her. you need to get her to the jet immediately."

he couldn't breathe. his vision was going dark around the edges, panic overtaking him as his eyes racked over your body, desperately hoping this was all just a horrible nightmare. at some point, the rest of the team had joined in on the fight, the sounds of gunshots and violence fading to the background as a ringing pierced his ears. he didn't know what to do, he didn't—

"p-peter? are you still there?" your trembling voice drew him out of his haze. he watched again as you fought to open your eyes, face controting in pain as you pulled against the thread. he grabbed your hand in his, giving it the faintest squeeze.

"hey, hey i'm sorry, i'm right here. please stop moving your eyes, try to relax them for me. i'm so sorry, (y/n), i'm so sorry." the last part a whisper.

you turned your head towards his voice, tears slipping through the loops in the thread. it rewet the blood crusted around your eyes, the tears running down your cheeks a pinkish-red.

"they told me i saw too much."

peter felt his stomach turn at your words, intrusive thoughts of them holding you down and stitching your eyes shut plaguing his mind.

"i'm so sorry, i...

"peter, you need to act quickly. start by removing the tubes from her arms." karen rang through his suit again.

he shook off the thought, bringing his attention back to you. "i need to get these tubes out, okay?"

you choked out an "okay", more blood spilling from your lips as you spoke.

"don't talk, okay? i'm going to get you out of here. just stay awake for me, please. i'm just gonna..." he placed his hand on one of the tubes, nauseous at their size in his hand.

he held tight, the movement alone from his grasp being enough to earn a whine from you, incoherent pleas to stop escaping your lips.

he felt panic bubble in his throat again. "karen, please. how do i do this, i... i don't... i don't know what i'm doing."

"it doesn't seem as though the tubes in her arms are intertwined with anything. the best course of action may be to pull as quickly as possible,"

peter could taste the bile in the back of his mouth.

"the tubing is about two feet long, peter. you're going to want to pull quickly and pull a lot further out than you think."

he took a deep breath, summoning all the willpower he had left. "okay, i'm going to take these out, alright? i need you to brave for me, this isn't going to feel great."

you choked out another "okay" as peter tightened his grasp on the tubing. he gave himself a mental countdown, closing his eyes and pulling as hard and as quickly as he could.

the sounds that filled his ears made him wish to never hear again. you let out a blood-curdling scream that forced an echo through the concrete room, the rasp in your voice telling peter you'd been crying out like this for hours. it broke his heart to hear you in so much pain, but somehow your deafening anguish wasn't the worst part.

he could hear as the tubing left your body. the squelching noises of the plastic running through your flesh burned to his memory, one he knew would haunt him at night. you let out another roar as the tubing left your body and peter opened his eyes, immediately looking at the now-open wound in your forearm. he no longer had to worry about the noises haunting him.

the tubing had left a gaping hole in your arm, a dark red mixture of various liquids splattering out of you. he was quick to throw a web on it, stopping the flow for now. he looked at you, tears blurring his vision.

"i'm sorry," he cried, out, nearly choking on his own sobs. "i need to keep going, i'm so sorry."

he grabbed the next one, wasting no time pulling as hard as he could. this time, however, he made the mistake of keeping his eyes open. he watched as the tubing moved from under your skin as though a snake was slithering inside of you, the bulging in your arms pulsing and raising as peter moved. the tubing hit the ground with a thud, and the next thing you could hear was peter dry heaving.

he continued with the other arm, apologies on his lips as though he was pleading for his own life. they were drowned out by your screams, the rasp in your tone growing stronger each time as you lost your ability to speak. you could feel your throat ripping apart as you cried, even more blood running down to your stomach than before. you heard the sounds of peter's webshooters and felt two more cool sensations on your left arm.

"okay, we just need to get the ones in your chest, okay? we're almost done, (y/n), i promise,"

he took a step back to examine the two tubes left before a voice cut through his ears.

"peter, you can't pull on these two, they're too close to her heart. you're going to need to sever them and leave them in so they can be taken out surgically."

the thought brought another gag to his throat. he nodded silently, reaching down to the boot on your left foot where he knew you always had a back up dagger hidden. he let out a sigh of relief as he felt the metal against his masked fingers, pulling out the knife and bringing it towards your chest. he noticed as your ragged breathing picked up.

"peter? w-what are you doing with that? what's going on, please?"

"it's okay. i have to leave these ones in here, okay? i'm going to cut them and then we're going to go," he held a firm hand on one of the tubes.

"you're going to feel some pressure, okay? you're going to feel me cutting it, and it's going—"

"—peter, she's losing consciousness. you need to make the cuts now."

"okay! okay, i— fuck, okay."

peter began to saw at the tubing, the back-and-forth movement ripping at the skin around the edges. it pulled, blood and dark liquid splashing out on your bare clavicle and turning everything he saw red. he braced for your scream, but felt even more panicked when he didn't hear one.

"hey hey, hey please no. please, stay with me, please i'm trying. just please stay alive."

he finished off the final tube, again using his webbing to seal the open ends and prevent anything else from going in (or coming out). he wrapped his arms around your limp frame, beginning to lift you. his whole body shook, the weight of the situation sitting on him like nothing he'd ever felt before. he let out a cry that hurt his chest, using everything he had left to get back to his feet.

he had you. he had you, and everything was going to be fine, he just needed to—

"kid, grab on!" tony yelled as he flew past, signaling peter to web himself onto his suit. he did so, holding you tight in his arms as tony flew them outside and towards the jet.

they landed outside, his arms shaking violently as he rushed you over to bruce who was waiting at the glider entrance.

"please, help her. please, you have to help her."

[flamingpudding]

Cassiopea and Orion #2

Previous Part

A/N: I probably shouldn't be thinking up so many different story lines. But my mind won't let me focuse on something else in peace unless I write these snippets and parts out. So here have another part XD I still have a whole Danny and Bruce backstory conversation in my head that I will probably write out at some point too.

"Really B, another one?" A red helmet wearing guy huffed the moment he spotted her, the little black haired blue eyed girl, sitting on a railing by a huge computer set up Ellie was sure Uncle Tuck would have drooled over.

She blinked at the new arrival before her eyes went over to the man. The one she had told that Phantom lost his haunt. When she had spoken these words the air around the man had changed. Before Ellie even really knew what was happening, the man had turned away from her, talking to the still tense boy before whisking the both of them away to a cave. The place she was now, and one after another more and more of the weirdly dressed people showed up. Each of them appeared to feel the need to comment on something, Ellie heavily believed to be an inside joke.

She let her eyes wander over all the arrivals, her fingers nervously drumming on the metal of the railing she was sitting on. Watching them carefully, despite what Danny had told her, she would bold at the first sight of danger from them. They didn't appear to have any ecto-weapons but that could be false impression. Like the GIW. They had appeared so incompetent only to do a 180 decades later.

"So what is going on? Is B printing adoption papers already?" The red and black one appeared to joke and Ellie tilted her head. There definitely was a insider joke she was not aware of. It would be weird to ask them about it wouldn't it? It would also be rude and tactless. Danny and Aunt Jazz had tried to teach her to not always blurt out every question that pops up in her head. Key words, not always.

"Why would the furry need adoption papers?"

She blinked at how a couple of the people broke out laughing while the kid, who had been watching her like a hawk, was now full on shooting daggers at her. She was pretty sure the kid would have thrown a literal one at her, but something as keeping them from doing so. She heard a grunt, and her eyes went back to the man that had brought her here.

"Not necessary." The man muttered as he turned to face them, clicking a key on the keyboard of the computer, and Ellie blinked as an image of Phantom popped up on screen. The people laughing appeared to quiet down now. "She already has a father."

"Mom." Ellie automatically corrected, shrugging when they looked at her. Before everything had gone to shits and Danny's capture, he had become quiet the mother hen, especially with Dan's and her de-aging. The constant mothering and worry about their well-being had caused Dan to joke that Danny was acting like a mother and she had continued to run with that joke. Even after they had to put Dan into a frozen state under Frostbites care in Far Frozen. The two had silently agreed on that Danny was their mom. The past didn't matter and she would honour their silent sibling agreement.

She didn't elaborate any further and they seemed to get that as they turned back to the man by the computer, putting their attention on that. Though she did noticed that the other kids eyes lingered on her longer.

"This is Phantom. A ghost hero stationed at Amity Park. Code: Rho, one of Cassiopea's dying stars." The man paused, and Ellie swore he had looked at her under his cowl. "And this girl's, Elliza Danielle Phantom Nightingale's, mother. Code: Jupiter, the wandering star."

"How do you know my full name?! Plus, my only recently added ones! They are like only a month old! And what about these weird Codes?" She blurred out wide-eyed, staring at the man in bat costume.

"Even if sparse Phantom and I stayed in contact using these codes." And Ellie narrowed her eyes at him. "Doesn't answer my question."

"Actually, B we would also like to know more." One of the onlookers, that's what Ellie decided they were for now, piped up.

Bat guy grunted, staring them down but not answering. The onlooker in blue sighed but Ellie wasn't giving in. She crossed her arms, keeping her balance by floating slightly on the railing.

"Look, you big bad bee, if you can't tell me that, then how am I supposed to trust you to help me, let alone the rescue of Da- Phantom!"

The onlookers snickered as she held her little staring contest with the big bad bee. Jokes on that guy she had held staring contests with Frighty before and he doesn't even remember how to blink at times.

"Phantom and I correspond about various topics since our teen years." The bat guy finally admitted. "One of which was about... our children."

Ellie blinked several times. Until her eyes widened in realization and she pointed an accusing finger at bat guy. "You're the one that kept calling Danny about parent advice! Like how he got me to go to online school and prevented me from sneaking out or how he handled Dan's anger tantrums!"

"Wait... B went to someone other than Agent A for parent advice?" The red and black onlooker questioned and Ellie shrugged. Danny had always been sort of parenting her since he was 16 and Dan once they learned he was aging lower and then the de-aging happened. She did remember that Danny got his first phone call about parent advice when he was around 24.

Now that Ellie thought about it. That was also around the time he took her aside to tell her about the emergency code.

"Which one of us do you guys think was the cause?"

"Wing."

"Hood."

"Demon Brat."

Ellie blinked once more, her attention turning back to the onlookers as thet started to argue among themselves. She tilted her head, watching them. Looks like she accidentally got them off topic. Though now she really wanted to get the story out of Danny once they rescued him. For years she had caught snippets of Danny's phone calls, to think that the guy on the other end was a armored spandex wearing furry. She couldn't wait to tell Dan about that.

Well, once their mom was saved and her brother stabilized again.

[childrenofcain-if]

Happy Spooky Season, Axel! This might be a little unusual but with the spirit of Halloween coming up, how would the ROs react to MC being a werewolf?

Maybe it can happen in a camping trip, similar to The Quarry? Maybe not separately bcuz I would love to see how they handle it as a group, but I won't complain with individual reactions either. Do whatever would be more comfortable, dear Author. Happy Halloween in advance!

rural connecticut had a way of making everyone feel a little uneasy. perhaps it was the countless urban legends people told around it, perhaps it was the way that the state was where the nation’s first witch trials occurred—three decades before they happened infamously in salem, massachusetts.

the air was crisp with the sort of chill that lingered in your bones but didn’t quite feel threatening yet. the fire crackled softly as you stoked it, watching the flames flicker against the growing dusk. everyone was scattered around the camp, still settling into the space.

D was busy doing what they did best—getting under C’s skin with sarcastic jabs, teasing them about the way they kept folding and refolding the map as if it would magically change the directions. M, ever the stoic one, was trying to ignore them, but you could see the slight twitch of their lip, an indication that D was close to getting on their last nerve.

V was standing beside you, hands in their pockets, looking vaguely amused by the whole scene. W, on the other hand, just shook their head and smiled, the picture of someone used to D’s antics by now. it was a strange mix, this group—too many strong personalities in one place—but it worked. everyone knew their role, how far to push, when to back off. at least most of the time.

D had started flicking small rocks at C’s back and making loud, obnoxious comments about how they were overpacking again. “C, honestly, it’s a camping trip, not a three-week expedition. You don’t need an entire suitcase for a weekend.”

C shot D a venomous look from over their shoulder, folding the map they’d been fussing over with a little more force than necessary. “keep it up, and you’ll be sleeping outside the tent tonight.”

“i’d love that, thanks,” D fired back, their smirk relentless.

you fed the fire another branch, staring into the flames as V leaned closer.

“you’re quiet,” they said, voice so soft that it was almost drowned out by D’s exaggerated laugh in the background.

you shrugged. “just thinking about all the coursework i still have waiting for me when we get back. feels like i should be doing something instead of sitting here.”

V smiled, the kind that crinkled the corners of their warm brown eyes. “it’s a holiday. you’re supposed to be relaxing. the work will still be there when you get back.”

M wandered over, looking unusually tense. “you lot heard about the wild predators around here lately?”

you glanced up, the firelight reflecting in M’s eyes, giving their worry an edge.

“what do you mean?” V asked, straightening up.

M ran a hand through their hair. “there have been some sightings—wolves, maybe coyotes—attacking other animals around these parts. i was checking for some news around the area and it showed up on my phone.”

D chimed in before anyone could respond. “oh, come on, your highness. it’s connecticut. we’re not in the middle of the appalachian region or yellowstone. we’ll be fine. plus, this place was ranked one of the best camping spots in the state. we’re practically in a five-star resort.” their grin was wide and mischievous, but you noticed the slight edge to it, a crack in the usual rodomontade.

W, usually the voice of reason when M couldn’t be, spoke up next. “we’ll stick together either way. there’s strength in numbers. we’ve got a fire, flashlights, and C brought a hunting rifle. if anything comes near us, we’ll handle it.” they squeezed M’s shoulder reassuringly.

but M’s worry lingered in the air, a quiet tension settling over the group despite W’s calm reassurance. you noticed it—the way M kept glancing at the treeline, how they kept rubbing their arms like the air had turned cold with every passing minute.

you had nodded in agreement with W, trying to push away the strange feeling that had settled over you. It was probably nothing. this was just camping—people did it all the time. and yet, something about the stillness of the woods, the way the sun was sinking so fast behind the trees, left you uneasy.

as the sun sank lower and the sky shifted from blue to deep indigo, you all gathered around the fire for dinner. D had somehow managed to snag a pack of white claws, and C cracked open a can of pepsi, glaring at D as if it was their fault no one had thought to bring more non-alcoholic options.

the fire felt like a buffer between you and the world, the flickering light casting shadows over the campsite. the mood was light, despite the earlier worries. cheeriness spilled out from the group in bursts, warming the cool night air. but as the conversation started to smooth out more, a sound rose up from the woods behind you—a long, eerie howl, distant but unmistakable.

it came from far off at first, just a faint sound on the wind, but it was enough to make everyone pause, the laughter dying in your throats. V’s eyes darted toward the tree line, and M’s face went pale.

“that’s probably just—” D started, but their voice faltered, betraying the nervousness beneath the joke. “i mean, it’s probably some sort of a mating call, right?”

no one answered.

then, another howl. closer this time. too close.

W stood up, their face pale, hands clenching nervously. “we should probably—”

“i’m getting the rifle,” C interrupted, standing abruptly. their face was tight, their jaw set, as if they were angry more than scared. “whatever’s out there, i’ll scare it off.”

“we should all go with you,” M said quickly, grabbing their flashlight. “like W said, strength in numbers, right?”

everyone nodded, uneasy but moving in unison, as if drawn by the same invisible thread. you grabbed your flashlight, the cold metal heavy in your palm, and followed as C led the way into the woods.

the flashlights carved weak paths through the dark, illuminating only fragments of the trees and underbrush. every step felt wrong, like the forest had swallowed you whole. you could hear the rustle of leaves, the crunch of dead branches, but no animals. no insects. it was too quiet, and the silence buzzed in your ears.

“where are all the animals?” M whispered, their voice barely more than a breath.

and then, just as you turned to respond, there was a sound—a low, guttural growl, so deep it seemed to shake the ground beneath your feet.

it came from behind you.

you froze, heart slamming against your ribs. the others turned in slow motion, flashlights swinging wildly through the dark, their beams landing on a pair of glowing yellow eyes. the creature was huge, hulking, its fur bristling in the cold air, muscles rippling beneath its skin. it wasn’t a coyote. it wasn’t even a wolf, not really. it was something else, something too large, too wild, too impossible.

“shit! C, get your fucking rifle no—” D exclaimed, but the creature was already moving. in one fluid motion, it lunged toward your group, its teeth bared and its claws extended.

without thinking, you shoved W out of the way, just as the creature’s jaws snapped inches from their face. before you could react, you felt the searing pain of teeth sinking into your arm, claws ripping through your skin as the creature dragged you backward into the underbrush.

the world seemed to wobble around you, the flashlight slipping from your grasp as you screamed, thrashing against the weight of it. the burning, tearing pain spread like wildfire through your body, but the more you fought, the deeper its teeth sunk into your skin.

“shoot it! C, shoot it!” V’s voice cracked, desperate, as they, D, and M scrambled to pull you free.

there was a crack—a gunshot—and the creature jerked back, snarling in pain. C had fired, the rifle smoking in their hands. the beast staggered, blood dripping from its shoulder, before it let go of you and fled into the night, vanishing into the trees as quickly as it had appeared.

you were left on the ground, panting, clutching your arm as the pain pulsed in waves, so sharp and overwhelming you could barely breathe. blood soaked through your shirt and jacket, your vision swimming in and out of focus as the others rushed to your side, their voices a blur of panic and urgency.

“oh shit, oh fuck,” W rambled, dropping down beside you, their eyes filling with tears and panic. “hold on, we’ll need to get you to a hospital. now.”

nobody argued. they packed up the camp in minutes, the fire doused, gear thrown haphazardly into the car. you were half-conscious by the time they bundled you into the backseat, your arm throbbing in time with your heartbeat, every movement sending fresh spikes of pain through your body. you could feel the blood seeping through the makeshift bandages they’d wrapped around your arm, could hear D’s voice, low and tight, muttering curses under their breath as they sped toward the nearest hospital and probably broke many speed limits.

but beneath the pain, beneath the terror, there was something else. a heat. something wild and feral curling low in your chest, spreading through your veins, something you couldn’t name but felt terrifyingly real.

***

the fever started small. just a dull, persistent heat behind your eyes that made you squint against the light of the hospital room. at first, you thought it was something else, something ordinary—a delayed reaction to the bite. the doctors had warned about infection. C had been furious, pacing the length of the small room with that same tight look they always got when they were trying not to say something filled with rage. they were pissed, but more at themselves than anyone else. they’d been the one to insist on bringing the rifle, after all. M kept a hand on your forehead, their fingers cool against your overheated skin, and whispered reassurances, half to you and half to themselves.

“it’s probably rabies,” M had said, voice low and steady like they were trying to convince themselves more than you. “you’ve got the shots. it’ll be fine.”

W and V exchanged a glance over your bed. you didn’t miss it, the way their eyes flicked toward each other, something unspoken passing between them. you’d noticed it before, during those first few days when they’d both taken turns sitting with you. they weren’t saying it out loud, but you could tell—they didn’t think this was just rabies. and part of you, the rational part that had clung to M’s words, didn’t think it was either. but you weren’t ready to ask.

the fever crawled through your body, starting in your chest and spreading to your limbs like fire under your skin. it wasn’t normal. you knew it wasn’t, but there was no explanation that made sense. the doctors couldn’t find anything except for signs of a violent infection. but that didn’t explain the dreams, the way your senses had started to shift in ways you couldn’t fully articulate.

at night, when the fever hit its peak, you’d wake up drenched in sweat, your heart pounding in your chest as if it were trying to break free from your ribcage. your skin felt like it was too tight, like something inside you was pressing outward, demanding to be let free. there were flashes of something more—brief moments where your senses sharpened, where you could hear footsteps down the hall or smell something faint, metallic. but those moments came and went, and you told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks.

M and C were the ones to step in with the rational explanations, repeating the same things over and over until you almost believed them.

“it’s just an infection,” they said. “you were bitten by a wild animal, after all.”

D, though, tried to lift your spirits, as they always did. they’d show up with bags of sweets, grinning, trying to make you laugh even when your head was throbbing and your skin was burning up.

“maybe it’s not rabies,” they’d joked once, tossing a gummy bear into the air and catching it with a quick snap of their teeth. “maybe you’ve been cursed. like some old angry spirit or whatever. we should get a shaman.”

that had gotten a weak laugh out of you, but it had been hollow, thin. there was no shaking the feeling that something was wrong, that whatever had bitten you had left more than just physical wounds.

but eventually, after days of burning and aching, the fever broke. your body cooled, the heat fading into a dull memory, and the doctors were quick to say that you’d recovered. you’d survived the infection. but you knew better.

when they discharged you, your friends were there waiting, trying to make light of the fact that you looked half-dead. you could see it in their eyes—the way they studied your gaunt face, your hollow cheeks, the way your skin clung too tight to your bones like you’d been starved for weeks instead of days. D had tried to joke about it, something light-hearted about your diet, but no one had laughed. not really.

you didn’t say much. you couldn’t. because something in you had changed during those fevered days, something you couldn’t put into words. and you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had happened wasn’t over yet.

***

the first full moon passed without you realizing it. you’d felt strange for days—restless, anxious in a way that didn’t make sense. there was this pull, this quiet urging in your chest, like something was trying to guide you somewhere. but you couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t find the source.

then one night, after a long day of feeling like your skin didn’t quite fit, you found yourself wandering through the campus. it wasn’t intentional—you didn’t decide to go out, but your feet carried you across the quad, past buildings and students, and toward the woods on the outskirts of the grounds. it was like something was calling you there, something you couldn’t ignore.

the woods were quiet, eerily so. the usual sounds of campus life—the chatter of students, the distant hum of traffic—faded into the background as you entered the trees. you didn’t know why you were there, but your body did. and then the pain started.

it began as a dull ache in your limbs, like the kind you used to get during growth spurts when you were younger, but sharper, more insistent. then it spread, climbing up your spine and into your chest until every breath felt like you were inhaling fire. you dropped to your knees, gasping, clutching at the ground as your body twisted and contorted in ways that was decidedly inhuman.

your bones cracked, loud in the stillness of the woods, like twigs snapping underfoot. your muscles shifted, stretched, and you could feel your skin pulling, stretching over something much bigger than you. it was agony, every nerve ending on fire, your mind screaming in protest as your body changed. you tried to hold on to something, some shred of yourself, but it slipped away as the beast took hold.

your hands, once familiar, turned into something else—claws, long and sharp. you felt your teeth elongate, your jaw stretching into something animalistic. your senses exploded, everything around you suddenly too loud, too bright, too overwhelming. you could smell the earth, the dampness in the air, the faint metallic scent of blood from somewhere in the distance. the hunger hit you next, sharp and undeniable, driving you forward.

you didn’t think. you couldn’t. your mind was gone, lost to the beast moving on autopilot. all that mattered was that you were starving. you ran, your new body moving faster than you’d ever imagined possible, every muscle coiled and ready to spring.

there were livestock near the edge of the woods—sheep, maybe, or cattle. you couldn’t tell. it didn’t matter. you didn’t care. all you knew was the hunger, the need to kill, to tear something apart. you leapt over the fence, your claws finding purchase in the soft flesh of a sheep. it struggled, bleating in terror, but it was no match for the strength coursing through you. you tore into it, your teeth sinking deep into its neck, blood hot and thick in your mouth.

you didn’t stop until the animal was still, its blood staining the ground, the scent of it filling your nostrils. by the time the moon began to sink below the horizon, you had lost track of time, of how many animals had fallen to your claws. your body felt heavy, exhausted, but the hunger had been sated, at least for now.

***

when you woke the next morning, you were back in your bed with the window of your room open. naked. covered in blood and mud, leaves clinging to your skin like some reminder of the night before. you stared at the ceiling, your heart pounding, your chest heaving with every breath. you didn’t remember getting back. you didn’t remember much at all.

the memories of the night were fragmented—flashes of pain, of running, of blood. you didn’t know what had happened. you didn’t want to. but the evidence was there, on your skin, in the way your muscles ached, in the taste of blood still lingering in your mouth.

you couldn’t tell anyone. how could you? you didn’t even know what had happened. and you didn’t want to freak anyone out. so you kept it to yourself, burying the truth deep inside, hoping that whatever had happened would go away. that it had been a one-time thing.

but deep down, you knew it wouldn’t.

***

it was subtle at first, like a creeping shadow that you didn’t even notice was there until it had fully swallowed the light around you. you started to look tired all the time—bags under your eyes, your face pale and drawn, as if sleep didn’t offer the relief it was supposed to. the first person to notice was M, of course. M was always the one to notice. they didn’t say anything at first, just offered quiet glances whenever they caught you staring blankly off into space or saw you rubbing at your temples as if that would shake the lingering headache you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“you okay?” they asked one evening. the two of you were studying in the library, the lamplight casting long shadows on the dark wood of the table.

you forced a smile, shrugging like it was nothing. “yeah, just tired.”

but the truth was, you weren’t just tired. you were exhausted—bone-deep, soul-deep tired in a way that made you feel hollow. your body was fighting something, that much was clear. but fighting what? you didn’t know. you told yourself it was the aftereffects of the fever, that maybe you hadn’t fully recovered yet. but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t true.

then the cuts and scratches started showing up.

you’d wake up in the mornings and find a fresh gash on your forearm, or a thin, red line across your cheek that hadn’t been there the night before. they were never deep, never serious, but they were constant. every week it seemed like there was something new—an unexplained bruise on your ribs, a scratch across your neck. at first, you brushed it off. maybe you were thrashing in your sleep, scratching yourself without realizing it. but then C saw them.

“what the hell happened to your face?” C asked one morning, frowning as they reached out to touch a thin scratch running down your jawline. “did you fall or something?”

you shook your head, pulling back before their fingers could graze the raw skin. “i don’t know. it was just there when i woke up.”

C’s eyes narrowed, concern creeping into their voice. “you sure you’re okay? you’ve been… off, lately.”

you wanted to brush it off, to tell them you were fine. but the truth was, you weren’t fine, and you had no idea why.

“i don’t know what’s going on,” you admitted quietly, and it felt like the first real thing you’d said in days.

C sighed, running a hand through their hair. “maybe you should see a doctor again. this… this isn’t normal.”

you nodded, though the idea of seeing another doctor made your stomach turn. what were you supposed to say? that you were waking up with scratches and bruises and no memory of how you got them? that something felt wrong inside you, like you were losing control of yourself? no. they’d throw you in the loony bin faster than you could say “stop.”

but it wasn’t just the tiredness or the scratches. it was the way your body had started craving things, strange things. like meat.

you’d never been picky before, but now, every time you sat down to eat, all you could think about was meat. not just any meat, though. it had to be rare. blood-red, almost raw. the first time it happened, you’d been out with your friends, grabbing dinner at some burger joint near campus. you ordered your usual, but when the burger came, perfectly cooked with a slight char, the sight of it turned your stomach.

“you gonna eat that?” D asked, eyeing your untouched plate. “or are you saving it for later?”

you frowned, pushing the plate away.

“it’s overcooked,” you muttered, even though you knew it wasn’t. it just wasn’t what you wanted.

W raised an eyebrow, glancing at your plate. “it’s medium-rare.”

“yeah, well, it’s not rare enough.”

C snorted. “you want it raw or something, starkid?”

you didn’t respond, because the answer, disturbingly, was yes. you didn’t want it cooked at all. you wanted the blood. the thought made you feel sick, but it also made your mouth water in a way that scared you.

from that night on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. every time you sat down to a meal, you found yourself staring at the meat on your plate, wondering what it would taste like if it hadn’t been cooked at all. you started ordering steaks rare, almost raw, the blood pooling on the plate, and when you ate, it was like nothing had ever tasted so good.

“you’re getting weird,” D said one night, watching you tear into a steak that was practically still mooing. “like, seriously. are you okay?”

you glared at them, your fork clutched tightly in your hand. “i’m fine, D.”

D raised their hands in surrender, chuckling nervously. “alright, jeez. just checking.”

but you weren’t fine, and D knew it. they weren’t the only one. everyone had started to notice. it wasn’t just the way you looked—paler, thinner, with dark circles under your eyes and fresh cuts on your skin every other week. it was the way you acted. you were on edge all the time, your temper shorter than it had ever been. the smallest things set you off.

one afternoon, D asked you a simple question—reminding you about an assignment for one of your classes that was due the next day—and you snapped at them, yelling about how you didn’t need them hovering over you all the time. the words came out before you could stop them, and the look on D’s face—hurt, confused—was enough to make your stomach twist with guilt. but you couldn’t take it back. the anger had bubbled up out of nowhere, hot and irrational, and once it was out, you couldn’t control it.

“i was just trying to help because you asked me to remind you of it a month ago,” D said quietly, staring at you like they didn’t recognize the person standing in front of them.

you wanted to apologize, but the words got stuck in your throat. instead, you just muttered something under your breath and walked away, leaving D standing there, hurt and confused.

after that, things got worse. you started pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself without even meaning to. it was like you couldn’t stand to be around them anymore, like their presence irritated you in ways it never had before. every little thing set you off—the way M asked if you were feeling okay, the way W smiled at you with that concerned, worrying look in their eyes, the way C hovered like they were waiting for you to explode.

you didn’t want to explode. you didn’t want to be angry all the time. but you couldn’t help it. it was like something inside you was constantly simmering, waiting for a reason to boil over. and the worst part was, you didn’t know why.

***

it was V who finally brought it up, one night after you’d barely spoken to anyone all day. they found you sitting in the common room of your suite, staring blankly at the TV which wasn’t even turned on, your mind a mess of half-formed thoughts and simmering frustration.

“hey,” V said quietly, sitting down beside you. “you’ve been… different lately.”

you didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the TV, hoping they’d drop it. but V wasn’t like that when it came to their friends. they weren’t going to drop it.

“i mean it,” they said with all the firmness they could muster. “we’re all worried about you. you’ve been acting strange. D’s scared to talk to you now, after what happened last week. C’s been trying to keep it together, but even they don’t know what to say anymore.”

you swallowed hard, still not looking at them.

“i don’t know what’s going on,” you whispered. it was the truth, and saying it out loud felt like admitting defeat.

V sighed, their hand resting lightly on your arm. “maybe you should let us help. we all want to. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

but that was the thing, wasn’t it? you didn’t even know what ‘this’ was. how could you ask for help when you couldn’t explain it, couldn’t even make sense of it yourself?

“i’ll be fine,” you said, pulling away from them. “i just need some space.”

V didn’t push anymore. but you could see the worry in their eyes, the way they wanted to say more but didn’t. instead, they just nodded, standing up and giving you a small, sad smile.

“alright,” they said. “but if you ever want to talk…”

you didn’t respond, and they left, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your guilt, and the growing fear that whatever was happening to you, it wasn’t going to stop.

***

your friends decided to keep an eye on you after that, though they tried not to make it obvious. you noticed it in the way C watched you out of the corner of their eye during study sessions, the way W lingered after class to ask how you were doing, the way D, despite your outburst, kept showing up with snacks and stupid jokes, trying to make you smile.

but none of it helped. because the truth was, you didn’t know what was going on, and that terrified you more than anything else. you didn’t want to be around them, didn’t want to hurt them, didn’t want them to see what you were becoming. so you did what you always did—you pulled away. you stopped answering texts, made excuses to avoid hanging out, buried yourself in your coursework.

what they don’t know won’t hurt them.

***

the night of the next full moon came quietly, as if it was trying not to disturb anyone. but the air held something heavy, something ominous, that felt like it was waiting just beneath the surface of things.

the group hadn’t planned to spend the night together—it was a tuesday, after all—but V had been restless all day, pacing their room, chewing on their nails, staring at their phone like it held all the answers to the questions swirling in their mind. something didn’t feel right. it had been gnawing at them since morning, a nagging anxiety that wouldn’t let go. and then, just after sunset, they’d gone to check on you, only to find your room empty.

you’d disappeared again.

their heart raced as they dialed W’s number, each ring on the other end making their throat tighten. W picked up on the second ring, sounding out of breath. “V? What’s wrong?”

“it’s... it’s them. they’re gone again, W. i think something’s wrong. i don’t know, i—��� V’s voice cracked, panic bleeding through. “we have to find them. i have a really bad feeling about this.”

W didn’t hesitate. “i’m on my way. call the others.”

V nodded, even though W couldn’t see them, their fingers already flying over the screen to call M, then C, then D. within minutes, the group had assembled, all of them tense, worried. they didn’t need to explain why they were worried—everyone knew. the last time you’d disappeared in the middle of the night, you’d come back with fresh cuts and bruises, looking like you’d crawled through hell and didn’t remember any of it.

they couldn’t let it happen again. not tonight.

the group spread out, flashlights slicing through the darkness as they searched the familiar haunts around campus. the woods near the edge of campus were always a good place to start—isolated, quiet, and easy to disappear into. but as they ventured deeper, the silence began to settle over them, thick and unnerving. no wind, no birds, no rustling leaves. just the sound of their own footsteps crunching on the forest floor.

a dreadful sense of deja vu hit them all at once.

“i don’t like this,” D muttered, keeping their voice low, as if speaking too loud might make something worse happen. “it’s too quiet.”

M, who’d been leading the way, stopped in their tracks, holding up a hand. “did you hear that?”

everyone froze, straining their ears. for a second, nothing. and then, faintly, the unmistakable sound of chewing—wet, visceral, like something tearing through flesh.

V’s stomach churned. “we need to move. now.”

they followed the sound, their footsteps quickening, hearts pounding in their chests as the chewing grew louder, more grotesque. and then, as they turned the corner of a clearing, they saw it.

a massive creature, hunched over the carcass of a bull, its fur matted with blood. the moonlight glinted off its golden, beastly eyes as it tore into the animal with sharp, deadly teeth. it resembled the same creature they’d saw during their ill-fated camping trip. its muscles rippled under its coarse fur, claws like knives glinting as it gripped the bull’s body. and then it stopped, its head snapping up, eyes locking onto the group.

they didn’t have time to react, didn’t even have time to scream, before the creature snarled, baring its teeth.

V took a step back, heart slamming against their ribcage. “did... did it follow us?”

but W, standing frozen beside them, didn’t answer. they were too focused on the beast’s eyes, those glowing golden eyes, which seemed to flicker with something—recognition? for the briefest moment, the beast hesitated, its snarl faltering, the wild fury in its gaze dimming. it stared at them, unmoving, like it was trying to remember something it had once known but had long since forgotten.

“what’s it doing?” D whispered, their voice barely audible.

the creature’s breath came out in ragged, heavy pants, steam rising in the cold night air. for a moment, it seemed almost human, that look in its eyes. then, with a sudden jerk, it turned and bolted, vanishing into the darkness of the woods, leaving behind the bloody remains of the bull.

“we need to follow it,” W said, their voice trembling but certain.

“what?” C snapped, still staring after the creature. “are you insane? that thing will kill us.”

W shook their head. “it didn’t, though. it recognized us. i’m telling you, something’s amiss here. it’s not the same creature from our camping trip.”

for a second, no one moved. they were all too stunned to process what had just happened. but then V nodded, their face pallid but determined. “W’s right. it didn’t attack. it... it hesitated.”

C opened their mouth to argue but then closed it again, sighing heavily. “fine. let’s go. but if that thing turns on us..."

“it won’t,” D spoke up firmly, though their hands shook as they gripped the flashlight tighter. “i... i think W has a point.”

they followed the werewolf’s trail, moving quickly through the dense trees, their breath visible in the cold night air. the deeper they went into the woods, the darker it became, the flashlights barely cutting through the gloom. hours seemed to pass as they searched, the group growing more and more exhausted. but none of them would give up. they couldn’t. not after what they’d seen.

just as the first hint of sunlight began to break through the trees, M stopped, pointing ahead. “there. look.”

lying on the forest floor, half-hidden by a tangle of leaves and branches, was you. naked, covered in blood and dirt, shivering uncontrollably. you were mumbling something under your breath, your voice hoarse and broken, words slurring into nonsense.

V was the first to reach you, dropping to their knees beside your trembling body.

“oh my god,” they whispered, brushing the matted hair away from your face. “you’re freezing.”

C was right behind them, shrugging off their coat and immediately wrapping it around your bare shoulders, trying to cover the worst of the cuts and bruises on your pallid skin. they crouched beside you, their expression a mix of anger, fear, and helplessness.

“you idiot,” C muttered, their voice rough, almost choked. “what the hell happened to you?”

you didn’t answer properly, your lips trembling as you mumbled something incoherent, your body curling in on itself. you couldn’t stop shaking, your eyes unfocused, glazed over, like you were still caught somewhere between the transformation and waking.

W knelt down on your other side, handing C the scarf they’d brought with them.

“here,” they said softly, “wrap this around their neck.”

C took the scarf, wrapping it carefully around you, their hands surprisingly gentle despite the frustration etched into their face.

“you’re gonna be okay,” D muttered, though you could hear the doubt in their voice.

W leaned in closer, slipping their arms under you and pulling you against them, ignoring the blood and dirt smearing onto their own clothes.

“shh,” they whispered, their voice soft and soothing as they held you close. “it’s okay. we’re here. you’re safe now.”

you whimpered, the sound low and pitiful, like an animal in pain, your body still trembling uncontrollably as they held you.

“hey, hey,” W murmured, rocking you gently, their fingers brushing through your hair in an attempt to calm you. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

the rest of the group stood around you, their faces concerned and drawn, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. no one knew what to say. no one knew how to explain what had just happened.

M stood off to the side, their arms wrapped tightly around themself as they watched you, their expression unreadable.

“what do we do now?” they asked quietly, their voice trembling.

“we get them back to the suite,” V said, standing up and glancing around at the others. “they need help. medical help.”

“no hospitals,” C said sharply, standing up as well. “we can’t explain this. we just... we just need to get them somewhere safe.”

D nodded, though their eyes were filled with worry. “i agree, C. but we also can’t leave them like this.”

C sighed and closed their eyes for a few seconds. “we’ll take it one step at a time.”

together, they lifted you, supporting your weight between them as they made their way back through the woods. the sun was fully up now, but none of them noticed. they were too focused on getting you back, on making sure you were okay.

as they walked, V kept whispering to you, their voice soft and reassuring, though you weren’t sure if you could hear them.

“you’re gonna be alright,” they kept saying, over and over like a hymn. “we’re gonna figure this out. we’re not gonna let you go through this alone.”

but deep down, none of them could really tell what would come up next.

[theladysunami]

I have had another idea for a type of Bingqiu fanfiction that could be both angsty and loads of fun!

SVSSS's Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan transmigrate into PIDW as a late story Bingge and either a random wife, a still living antagonist, or a newly minted version of his old self, respectively.

Bingmei is horrified to find himself back in a shitty world full of wives he doesn't care for. Plus this is after Bingge merged the realms, so there are boatloads of consequences resulting from both that and all the other nonsense Bingge got up to (possibly including a bunch of young children with his various wives). He wants nothing more then to leave and go back to his own world, with his own beloved husband, but this voice in his head calling itself 'the System' won't let him.

The System reassures Binghe that to avoid a "second catastrophic protagonist breakdown," User 002, formerly cast as "Shen Qingqiu," has been brought along as well. (Quizzing the System reveals the first "catastrophic protagonist breakdown" is why Binghe was brought here. The previous "Luo Binghe instance" was apparently "too unstable" and "had to be replaced"). Unfortunately the System is much less helpful when it comes to informing Luo Binghe who his Shizun happens to be now.

Shenanigans ensue as Luo Binghe first works to track down his beloved (not knowing what skin he happens to be wearing now) and then works with him to bring some kind of stability to the horrifically mangled world they now live in.

There are so many ways things could play out with just this scenario!

One could write a story focused on just Luo Binghe tracking down Shen Yuan's current self, and the inevitable reveal that this transmigration thing happened to Shen Yuan once before, or the story could be about both that and the two of them stepping up and putting the world back together after someone else went and wrecked it.

The information on PIDW we have is vague enough that all sorts of options exist in terms of worldbuilding and emphasis on that end too:

The story could be a political intrigue where all sorts of complicated political maneuverings are required to materially improve people's situations and return some amount of self sufficiency after decades (or perhaps centuries) of Bingge's tyrannical rule.

It could be about the environmental changes of the merged realms, the various species that are either struggling or thriving, the changes people need to make to deal with this 'new normal', and so forth.

It could also be about the personal struggles of the wives, the "villains," the children, and so forth that Bingge left behind. How to work with them, help them heal and/or move on, etc.

One could also go the silly route and lean in on the absolute absurdity of the entire situation. The pure confusion at Luo Binghe's sudden complete change of character, and the seemingly random person he only now decided to crown as empress.

If anyone has their own thoughts and ideas on a "Bingmei permanently replaces Bingge in the world of PIDW, and his Shizun is brought along" type scenario, I'd love to hear about them!

[rose-riot-johnson]

Hello my Tumblr Peeps👋😁 For the 2nd time (and year) ever, I have decided to work on a Christmas fanfic (that is close to Christmas), and the 2nd Christmas fanfic I will be writing about is non other than Hisoka from Hunter x Hunter🎅🃏I also might mix up the genres for this Christmas fanfic as well and I really want to try to keep up the motivation with writing fanfics, as much as I am able to, plus if it's (atleast a little) early for me to write a Christmas fanfic, well I really wanted to write a Christmas fanfic before it gets too close to Christmas and I'm unsure if I can keep my motovation(s) up with writing fanfics, so I figured why not write this now🤷‍♀️😈☃️🎄

*This fanfic contains 1 or more long paragraphs😅 Also all smut fanfics I have written so far, involve all sexual activity (including oral and intercourse) that is consensual and is consensual sex in these smut fanfics, including this particular fanfic🍡

*V-card=Virginity

🃏🎅The Night, You And Hisoka, Became Eachother's Christmas Blessing🎅🃏(Hisoka Morow x Female Reader)

Genres: Angst to Comfort (Atleast in the beginning of this fanfic), Smut, Fluff, and (atleast) Christmas related stuff Warning +18 ⚠️: Up to reader's imagination if there's mentions of murder, mentions of Christmas, Virginity (v-card) loss (reader definitely loses v-card and it's up to the reader's imagination if Hisoka also loses his v-card), Vaginal Penetration, nudity, oral (both receiving), nipple play and pulling (using nen), gentle hair grabbing (and pulling), dirty talk, language, praise kink, fingering and pussy play, possible role playing before vaginal penetration, and language)

Hisoka was your childhood friend, however you had to move far away from him before his time in the circus, then after he got done with his time in the circus to start his journey as a Hunter, to his surprise you met up with him, so you could start going with him on his journey with him. Unfortunately, a year later you mom somehow caught up with both you and Hisoka, as she managed to use her nen (up to Reader's imagination on the Reader's mom's nen type and nen ability) on you and was able to teleport you (and herself) back to where you ran away from in the first place before Hisoka was able to attempt to reach for you. Hisoka became, so devastated where he hasn't gotten as close to anyone else, as he did you... He even was never as close to Illumi, as he was with you.

About a decade (or longer than that) later, Hisoka thought he was about to spend another Christmas alone, as he walked inside his hotel room, to notice you in the room, as he asked, "(Female Reader Name)? Is that you?", as he has been having a hard time believing who's he's seeing. "Ofcourse this is me Hisoka... It's been a long time since I've seen you... I escaped from my mother's clutches and I even madesure she's unable to capture me now...", you answered. A confused Hisoka replied, "Remember what happened last time you said this, she used her nen on you successfully... How can you be sure this won't happen this time?". As you noticed tears in his eyes, you assured him, as you replied back, "This time is really different this time... I can promise that this time, babe... The truth is that, while she was sleeping I managed to use my nen on her, so she will never be able to catch me again...".

The next thing Hisoka did was walked up to you, so he can hug you, before he started to sob, "After all of these years, when your mother captured you, I didn't think I would even be able to see you ever again... It's like evensince out childhood, there was always something that's separating us from eachother and I'm not sure how much my heart can take of you being taken away from me many, many, times... I'm just shocked to see you and I don't know how much longer we will physically stay together this time... I'm never like this with anyone, but you, (Female Reader Name)... So, it's really, very, very, rare that anyone gets to see me like this... I'm very sorry you are seeing me, like this right now...", as he proceeded to hug you tightly. "There's no need to be sorry Hisoka... I get we were getting separated alot due to unfortunate circumstances... I understand... You have every right to feel the way you do... This is why I madesure to come up with ways to escape without getting captured again... Trust me, Hisoka... I really have been trying to for over a decade, then one night I knew my mother was sleeping, so I came up with a plan to makesure I can escape without her going after me... So, here's your Christmas present now Hisoka...", you explained as you touched his face with one hand and petted his head with another hand. He felt really relieved to hear everything you just said to him.

Hisoka would ask why you called him babe earlier, which you answered him with your confession about your feelings for him and your feelings for him is even to the point where you've been planning to save yourself for him... Your v-card included... This has surprised him that you would have feelings for him, despite of your hints during your childhood prior to having to move far away from him and your hints during your adventures with him... He also confessed about his feelings for you, as he explained his reasons why he didn't confessed to you earlier, which includes being frightened that you would think worser of him than you did to the point where it would hurt his friendship with you and not knowing if you were to feel the same way for him, which you assured him that you would never think worser of him than you ever had and there would never be harm in the friendship just from any confessions like this. You then declared your friendship with Hisoka will boost into your relationship with him from now on, as you bought a sexy Santa suit for Hisoka to try on.

While Hisoka was about to try the Santa suit (and hat) you bought with you for him to wear, he noticed there was a Santa tank and what appeared to be a thong on the back of the underwear, as he began to blush at the underwear, so he took a closer look at the underwear to see if you haven't given him that pair by mistake. From looking at this particular underwear he thought might be yours, he realized the underwear was in his waist size instead of yours, as he began to wonder, why did you get him something like this, then he started to feel that his cock was starting to get hard. He decided to ignore his hard on for the time being, procceding to get his Santa tank on and the thong that appeared to be a men's type of thing with his Santa hat (ofcourse), which he felt maybe you're thoughtful of him, at the same time he really wanted to know if it was by accident that you didn't give him Santa pants or Santa shorts... Or do you actually have motives behind this...

Once Hisoka came out of the bathroom, he was asking you, if you forgot to give him a pair of shorts or something and wanted an explanation as the underwear, as he just felt harder from seeing you in a Christmas lingerie that is more revealing than the Santa outfit you had him wear. The lingerie top is very see through despite of the colors on it and has even shown your nippons through the bra cup parts of the top of your lingerie. Your underwear part of the lingerie is also a thong, except the front of the lingerie gives very, easy access to your whole pussy, as you had your legs wide open for him.

Hisoka blushed (and his dick got harder), as he started to catch on what your plans really are, while he's becoming impressed with how bold you really have gotten, as for all of the years he has known you, you used to be very modest and you never used to wear anything revealing, as he then smirked then cooed, "My my, (Female Reader Name)... I never thought you would be fearless dressing all sexy... Especially for me, dear... Do you realize what you're doing to me? I never thought you'd turn me, where I'd get this hard...", as he proceeded to move his to right hand to front of the male thong where his hard cock is. In your unusual sultry tone, you teased, "Well after I managed to escape and to keep sure there won't be any issues preventing me from staying near you, I began to feel empowered and I figured I'd be a naughty slut for you for a change... Yes, I am still a virgin... It's just that I wanted to have some real fun for the first time in my life... I'm so excited for this and I wasn't exactly sure, if I would ever be able to get you a going like this... I'm guessing this is working so much better than I wanted...", before getting off the bed, walking up to him, moving his extremely hard cock out of the men's thong gently grabbing, as you continued, "And look... Even your starving dick agrees that it's working in my favor... Or perhaps both of our favors...", then getting on your knees, as you began to start sucking on his very hard cock.

After you started sucking on Hisoka's hard dick, he decided to strip out of his Santa tank, quickly as he can, because of the fact that you're going to keep coming up with ways to get him a going much more pertaining his hard cock you're sucking on. He managed to get his Santa tank off, right before you bobed your head back and forth much, faster and even started to deep throat his dick, to the point he would groan like crazy, while you're pulling his male thong down, until the male thong manages to fall down on it's own. He then decided to gently grab your hair with one hand, while managing to use his bungee gum to play with both of your nipples, as he groaned, "You look so beautiful, taking in my cock like this... And it's your very first time trying to take care of me like this... Let's see how beautiful you really look, when I really help you out with getting my aching cock really wet, while I start on my fun with you... I hope you're ready darlin...", before he started to gently pull your hair to move your head nonstop for a deep throat sensation, while using his bungee to play with your nipples and pull on them, as well. As Hisoka really groaned more loudly from more of a deep throat sensation from him gently pulling your hair to his cock as deep inside of your throat as he possibly can, he carefully looked down to notice that you started to blush, not only from him helping you continue deep throating his dick, but also with using his bungee gum to pull on and play with your nipples and despite his cock being so deep inside of your mouth and throat, he could still hear you groan from the feeling of him using his bungee gum to pleasure your nipples much easier.

Once Hisoka got done with using his bungee gum to pull on and play with your nipples and you got done with deep throating his cock (as he letted go of your hair), you stand up to strip out of the top of lingerie, while he slightly bends over to quickly lick on your nipples, then suck on your nipples, before the both of you head to the hotel bed, as you laid on the bed waiting to see what he's going to do with you next. He took his Santa hat off prior to getting on his hands and knees on the bed eyeing at your pussy, licked his bottom lip, before he teasingly, barked, "Since you decided to turn me on so bad where you nearly had my cock really insane, I think a sweet bubble gum, like you, who's been a mixure of naughty and nice for me, deserves to be tooken cared of! For how sweet and spicy, you really are, how about I try you out to see, if how sweet and spicy you really taste, if I can make you feel good like you did me, and to see if you would go bad for me!", as he was kissing the inside of both of your thighs, touch your clit, slightly finger the inside of your pussy hole, then started to eat your pussy. As he was licking every part of your pussy, including the pearl part of your pussy, he glared at your face to notice that you were covering your mouth, as he stopped licking you temporarily, used his bungee gum to restain both your hands (and your arms just incase you decide to cover your mouth with your arms), as he smirked and hissed, "I thought I talked to you about making you feel good for me and to see you go bad for me! C'mon now my sweet virgin Christmas angel! I thought you'd be more fearless than this! I was easy on you! Now I'm going to make you squirm like a very naughty sheep you're being right now! Since you're going to try to hold back on how much of a good job I'm doing with taking of this flower, I might as well not hold back on having a buffet, because you made me very, very, hungry like a wolf!", before he has started using one hand to put two of his fingers deep inside of your pussy, as he can, as he began to roughly finger the inside of while using the fingers on his opposite hand to go crazy with playing with your clit.

Once you started to moan and squirm from Hisoka using the fingers on one of his hands to roughly finger the inside of your hole and using the fingers on his other hand to play with your entire clit to get every part of it sensitive, it became music to his ears. He stopped playing with your pussy, as he went straight to licking your pussy, especially the inside of your hole, before sucking on your pussy, as you have no choice, but to get really loud with your moans and squirm uncontrollably, as your pussy juices went straight inside of his mouth. "If you never try covering your mouth, you wouldn't have been in such a situation where I would show you what I really can do with you! Now everyone else inside of the hotel building will know how naughty you really are!", he teased before he continued, "By way, (Female Reader Name)... You have been amazing with me, otherwise... Do you think I should reward you? What are some things you would like for me to do for you?", showing you a smile on his face. You blushed, while you take off your thong that revealed your pussy, as you then replied, "A reward... Well Hisoka... If it's not too much trouble, would it be okay for us to possibly have you be the first man to be inside me? It can be any position, really... I just want my first time to be with you...".

Without hesitation, Hisoka, happily, replied back, "Very well, (Female Reader Name)... I'm still hard and even, if I wasn't, it has been the plan, since seeing you in that very revealing lingerie... I would be more than happy to eventually... So, any position I choose, hmmm?". He then put his Santa hat back on, as he came up with an idea of a sex position of his first time of being inside you, as he then flirtingly, asked, "(Female Reader Name), since I'm your Santa Claus for this Christmas, would you be alright with riding me, while you're on my lap?", then he continued, "I figured I'd ask, because I figured that considering you had me in this revealing naughty Santa outfit, you've bought with you earlier, I figured having you on my lap would be a good way for us to have our first time fucking together... I will even show you, if you like me to, my Mrs Claus...". You happily agreed on the position he asked you about, as he then sat on the bed, showed you on the position he had in mind, with your legs wrapped around him, sitting on his lap, facing him, with his dick, inside your pussy hole, as you began to ride on his cock.

As Hisoka was gently holding your waist, he noticed you were hurting at first, as he asked, if you needed to stop then continue later, however you assured him that it's only, because it's your first time and told him you'll manage, so you still continue to ride on his cock, as the both of you even moaned together. Hisoka then whimper and praised, "Fuck, (Female Reader Name)! I'm glad you're taking me in, so well! Would you still, like to keep going? It's because I never want tonight to end!", feeling glad to know that you're feeling pleasured, as he is. You replied, as you whimper, "Ofcourse I would like to keep going, sexy! I also really wished tonight never end! Your cock just feels so amazing inside of me!". Moans and whispers then became so loud, it must have filled the whole hotel building, as you continued to ride on his cock, while being on his lap, until he emptied his cum inside your swollen hole.

Once Hisoka got done cumming inside of your pussy, he still kept himself inside of you, planted a few hickies on one of the sides of you neck and shoulder(s), while you were putting some hickies on him too, then the both of you passionately kissed, before Hisoka cooed, "You're wonderful, as always... I'm really glad we managed to find eachother again, as this became the best Christmas surprise for me, ever... I hope to keep you for a very long time, now... Merry Christmas and I love you, so much, (Female Reader Name)...". You then replied, "I'm very happy to hear, my Christmas cookie... You're such a blessing to me and I agree that finding eachother was the best Christmas surprise for me, as well... I can truly hope to stay with you forever now... Merry Christmas to you too and I love you, very much, too Hisoka... This has to be the best Christmas ever for the both of us...". Both you and Hisoka, then went shopping (mainly for clothes) very quickly, before the stores close, then after returning to the hotel, Hisoka gave you massages everywhere you needed, as you did the same for him, got eachother dressed into warm pajamas, then snuggled together before falling asleep into eachother's arm's, having some of the best dreams even, on (up to the reader's imagination if it's Christmas night or the night before Christmas)...

♥️♦️The🎄End♣️♠️

Okay Tumblr Peeps, I hope you enjoyed this smutty Hisoka Christmas fanfic I came up with🃏🎅🎄😈😃👍I honestly had tons of fun with this particular fanfic and I am hoping you had just, as much fun reading it🎅👍I really wanted to get creative with this Hisoka fanfic as I can possibly think of and even a particular position for my first time working on a Christmas smut that wasn't a "Christmas in July" thing, which since this is my first time writing a Hisoka smut fanfic in general and it's a Christmas smut type of Hisoka smut, I figured this might be fitting for this particular position for Hisoka and the reader for this particular Christmas fanfic😈🎄The position part was a last minute thing and hopefully this does go well for a Hisoka Christmas smut type of fanfic🃏🎄So any1 who are Hisoka fans who enjoyed Hisoka fanfics and the Hisoka fanfics I have written, so far, especially this particular smutty Christmas Hisoka fanfic, while I still am planning giving other characters a chance to be written about (depending on the when factor too), yes, I have written this fanfic and 3 other fanfics about him, however I think I may have been atleast a little consistent with writing fanfics about him and maybe future fanfics about him, might be a huge possibility, depending on keeping myself motivated, however if writing about him is going to help keep myself motivated with writing fanfics then I might as well have fun doing so🤷‍♀️😈🃏As for this smutty Hisoka Christmas fanfic I have written, I do hope I haven't posted it too early when I do post it😅

[smiley-mcdoggington]

im in agony over your last post because I can’t stop thinking about how, when ford comes back, he will stare at Stanley’s older, wrinkled face and it will be the first time he gets to see an older Stanley and it will be HIS Stanley …. but by that time, how may times will he have fallen in love with another version of his brother’s face? Meanwhile Stanley will be looking at his twins face that he will have only been able to see in the mirror for the past 30 years. I AM SICK!!!!! im sorry this probably doesn’t make any sense but i really need you to know that i am genuinely in tears and gagging over this au. your brain is both beautiful but also kind of evil.

Ehehehehehehehe

1 thing kinda for context I have ideas for all the stans Ford loved before, and while he did love them and does mourn them his relationships were built on the foundation that he cannot get to his own Stan and they cannot get to their own Ford but they can get to eachother and if they squint its almost the same, it's close enough.

First live Stan he meets seven months after the junkyard: Stan calls himself a pirate but he and his crew (run by ghost Jimmy Snakes) are more like ship scrappers, everyone's got at least a little mechanical know-how, they find dead ships and salvage what they can. They stick together because they're all homeless wanderers that can't get home, but in Ford's perspective they're intimidating - other than Stan. Their Stan seems put together, like he knows what he's doing, but they're the same age and Stan's only been out of his dimension 3 weeks longer. They both project the twin they lost onto the other and are in a sexual plus a bit of cuddling relationship for a while. Ford is fond of him, Stan's the only reason Ford was allowed to join the crew instead of getting shot for stealing from them, and this Stan looks healthier, had a similar experience with Bill in the junkyard, and Ford feels like he can relax around him. Then they find a trap ship, one that looks dead but is just waiting for scrappers to connect their ships to kill the crew and take both ships. Stan was trying to negotiate because he was a stupid 26 year old with a gun to his head but then someone grabbed Ford and Stan got himself shot trying to get to him.

The next Stan Ford meets and has more than a one night stand with is nine years after that, a whole decade since the junkyard. The Stan is a decade younger than him, blind and feverish and and won't let anyone touch him until he has a six-fingered hand in his. That one wasn't a dimensional traveller, he was just dealing with Rico and Ford happened to be in the dimension and wanted a few chemicals from Rico to test as bill-destroying material that happened to be very illegal. He found Stan seizing in a hotel room and Ford decided he was only going to stay until Stan was alright. But Stan took to the bare minimum like a stray dog, doing what Ford wanted, begging him to stay, promising him he'll be better this time around. Ford can't stay, doesn't want to take away this Stan with a perfectly good Ford already so he dragged Stan up to Oregon to try to shove at his brother. But Ford opens the door with a crossbow and Stan gets shot in the neck and Ford beats the other Ford to death in his entryway. Ford had hoped that Stan's being pushed through the portals by Fords were almost always accidents and Ford's would never hurt Stans because He would never hurt Stan (not again) but no, this just proves him and all Fords are a disease. He leaves the dimension quickly after that.

The third Stan he met 25 years after Ford fell through the portal and it was in the junkyard. Ford had gone there with a plan to die trying to kill Bill, it was a bad few years before then and Ford had most of his gun working, enough it might injure Bill. But before he could find him, he looked in a sea of bodies and one looked back. He immediately quit his suicide mission, grabbed the half-frozen Stan and took him somewhere safe. Stan asked why Ford hated him, Ford said Fords never hated Stans, because Stan couldn't prove him wrong. Ford tried to leave him behind a few times, but Stan was determined, he did more and more reckless things trying to follow Ford until Ford just let him follow because maybe he would stop almost dying to try to keep up if Ford made it easier. Ford was old enough to be his dad, he was old enough to be all the multiverse Stanleys' dads at this point, but when Stan tried sleeping with him, Ford went along with it. It was mostly just sex and company, he didn't notice Stan was fawning because he was new and terrified. Didn't notice Stan only seemed to come onto him when he was in a bad mood and needed the distraction. Didn't notice Stan did whatever Ford wanted and shrank whenever Ford raised his voice. Eventually Ford did figure it out, and he was so horrified with himself he dropped Stan off with some interdimensional refugees and left as fast as possible. A month later he tried to visit to apologize properly, but Stan was gone, put a gun in his mouth the week before, his ashes were already space dust. Ford resolved himself to never take advantage of a Stan again. His last 5 years mostly celibate though made him cranky and more determined to finish his gun.

Then he had Bill in his crosshairs, and his Stanley decided to open the portal, and he came through the portal mad, he really did. But then he saw his brother with gray hair and crows feet - his brother, his Stanley, the one he'd spent 30 years wondering about, the one he was almost certain would be dead long before he could get gray hair just like every other Stan. His Stanley looked so happy to see him, arms outstretched and a huge smile on his face and Ford fell into his arms because he was so so happy. But after that he grew distant because every time Ford got close, every time Ford tried to do what was best for Stanley, every time Ford trusted Stanley, Stanley died.

[athleticlamp]

Final Destination: Bloodlines made Death even more terrifying. Apparently, Erik's attempt to help Bobby and the others defeat Death put him on Death's list too, even though he wasn't initially on Death's list. This means that if you have a relative or a friend who is being hunted by Death, you won't be able to help them unless you want to be on Death's hit list too. That's horrible.

If any not-on-Death's list-characters find out about that rule in future FD movies, they will be a lot less reluctant to help out their loved ones who are on Death's list.

Bloodlines introduced the "If you're on Death's list, your future descendants will be on its list too" rule and the "If you help someone try to beat Death, Death will come after you too" rule. We need another FD movie. They can't just introduce new rules like this in Bloodlines and not have instances of them being broken in one or more FD movies in the future. Like by having a pregnant woman on Death's list who delivers her baby, who is now doomed too. Or have a character get on Death's list because he or she started trying to help a friend beat Death, which is what happened to Erik in Bloodlines because he tried helping Bobby and the others beat Death, even though he wasn't on its list.

Bloodlines can't be the last FD movie. This franchise made a big comeback after being on pause for over a decade, and it needs a few more new movies. I think 9 would be a good number. Plus, 9 is 1+8+0, and 180 is an important number in this franchise. It's symbolic. If the Final Destination film series doesn't end with nine movies total, no more and no less, I'll be so disappointed.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to marry my partner?

So my (F29) partner (FtM29) and I have been together off and on since we were 13. We're each other's person through and through. We were each other's first everything. He was there for me when I came out as lesbian and later bisexual, I was there for him when he came out as asexual and later trans. He moved in with me and my mom at 18 when his religious family disowned him for wanting to medically transition. He worked his ass off to support us alone while I went to college, then I returned the favor while he went to trade school. We almost never disagree about anything at all except for one thing: marriage.

To him, the idea of marriage is tainted because of his religious upbringing (he was brought up Mormon), and he doesn't really like the idea of "binding" himself to another person legally or spiritually. He says it makes him feel trapped. Plus, even though he's been estranged from his family for over a decade, he says having a wedding ceremony without them there would be too much to bear.

I understand his point of view on all of this, but at the same time we know at this point we want to be together forever, and I worry about legal troubles that could arise if we never got married. What about medical insurance? I don't have any, but he does through his job. I could be on his insurance if we were married. What if something happened to him, and he ended up in the hospital? We're not married, so his parents could swoop in and make medical decisions for him and I wouldn't be able to stop it. Same thing for children. We want to adopt, and it would be easier to get approved for adoption if we were married.

I've told him we don't need a fancy ceremony, hell I don't even need a ring or proposal. I just want the piece of paper that's basically a formality at this point because we've entangled every other aspect of our lives since we were old enough to drive.

He says me pressuring him about this makes him even more unsure about the idea, so I've stopped saying anything because the last thing I want to do is lose my person. But I still can't silence my anxieties and the little nagging voice in the back of my head: Why won't he trust me? What could I do to prove I'll never hurt him like his family or church has in the past? Haven't I already proved that by loving him unconditionally for most of my life? Or should I really just drop this and deal with these uncertainties on my own?

What are these acronyms?

[batsplat]

also I’ve seen some (well a lot) photos of dani & sete together and like were/are they friends? obviously I know about the honda connection + them both being spanish but not much more then that. kinda hilarious that dani was/is friendly with both of them……

time to bring back the world's funniest photo

this is a genuine work of art. quite possibly one of the greatest photos of all time. I'm in love

yeah dani hired sete in 2017!! that's what gives us that great moment where valentino forgets about jerez 2005 with sete in the room - like that's why sete is even attending pressers in the first place. this is what sete had to say about it start of 2017:

honestly this is one of my fave sete interviews, I've had it in my drafts for a while to discuss but I might as well throw it in here. so yeah, him and dani have known each other since dani was a kid!! which will have been partly due to the honda link - they were also both gresini riders in 2004-05, if in different classes

plus they had the spanish link, back when that was like. something a little more noteworthy. they've regularly trained together for years!! dani had already asked sete to be his coach for two years!! they have a "great relationship"!!

but yeah obviously we do have to address the valentino of it all. "in recent years [dani's] dropped a little, as a result of bad luck. when you try many times and don't succeed, your enthusiasm and motivation are less" uh huh...? like, say, when someone puts a curse on you and however much you try and try and try again, you can no longer win another race? it would be horrible if that curse gave you all manner of ill fortune, yeah? that sure would sap your enthusiasm and motivation, wouldn't it?

note too that the phrasing for what sete's attempting to give back to dani echoes what he says valentino still has: enthusiasm and motivation. the joy and the will. sete believes nobody should attempt to become the 'anti-marquez' - the very phrase implies a single chosen challenger to finally take down the sport's current king. focusing too much on that person can only come to your own detriment. you'll eventually become your own main rival... eventually, you'll defeat yourself, and your enemy won't even have to raise a hand. dani/sete parallels isn't the sort of thing you'd necessarily arrive at yourself, so it's always kind of the involved parties to do your work for you. what valentino and marc never lost was their 'inner spark' - and the two of them can cause the kind of misfortune for others that gradually eats away at their 'enthusiasm and motivation'. if you've been marked out to defeat one of them... well, beware

and. of course. "we've always had a great relationship, given that we've shared so many great moments together" buddy WHAT are you talking about. ALWAYS??? sete has a funny habit of acting as if he's like, worked very hard to repress everything that happened to him between 2003 and 2005 as some kind of weird ass curse-induced trauma response. but it's actually the "I've never done any interviews in which I've talked badly about valentino" that's the most revealing - which is a) kinda debatable, but at the same time b) ... well, yeah, sete has been awfully restrained in what he's said post-2005! which has always been super annoying to me, as someone on a fact-finding mission about that era, but it's also... it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? of course, sete was still committed to managing the image of that rivalry. so determined to be respectful that he's avoided giving his side of the story. and sure, you can take him at his word that he's let bygones be bygones, that he really only remembers the positives of that time, but... it's complete and utter bullshit! he's finally started talking about THIS decade (transcribed for the sete post):

if there's one good thing that came from him going on that bloody three hour australian podcast, it's in him opening up about how obviously extremely not Over It he is:

if you think that valentino has had a lasting negative impact on the sport, that he made it more dangerous, that this is something that can directly be traced back to what he did to YOU... then why are you NOT 'talking badly' about valentino? why didn't you complain about the overtake at the time, publicly rather than feeling frustrated with race direction in private? but that's sete all over, isn't it... casey, for all his sins, has not exactly been quiet about valentino post-retirement - and while I'm also not going to ascribe any especially altruistic motives to that, while he does also obviously sell a very particular version of their story, you at least don't get this kind of blatant disparity between his stated principles and his public output. it's like when commentators were talking during assen 2004 about that magazine cartoon, the one with the gag that valentino just had to put a mirror on the back of his bike to defeat sete. (which is obviously very mean-spirited, yeah, and there's plenty to critique in how sete was portrayed as this vain foppish pretty boy.) sete has always, always cared too much about appearances and it was always going to be what killed him in that rivalry. he truly is the perfect foil: valentino manipulates image to his own ends, while sete is a slave to it. and that's how we've somehow ended in this situation where both parties have been perfectly willing to let the facts of that rivalry dissipate into obscurity over time. valentino erases sete from the narrative of his career as an act of punishment, whereas sete lets himself be erased because he does not wish to be associated with something so very ugly. and thus the story sinks over time towards oblivion

anyway. sorry. uh, back to dani. reportedly that was quite a close partnership he had going with sete:

a rich kid with a fancy bike collection to the last. here's a joan instagram post about said training:

and here's another interview sete gave about dani - unsurprisingly he's once again very complimentary:

"we have noticed that the machine is developing in a certain direction" uh huh? something about riding for honda, who you believe are geared only towards making one of your rivals succeed? must be tough, eh

probably a complete coincidence, but as it happens 2017 was the closest dani and valentino ever really got to a public spat - over valentino's sturdy defending in aragon. "if he's not happy, he has to race alone" indeed. obviously, dani did not end up winning a title - though 2017 is still the closest he'd gotten since 2013. he was very much in that title fight, pretty much until the wet race at misano, even if as the fifth of five contenders... so 13 of 18 rounds in, not bad. (incidentally, that's also the race that ended valentino's title aspirations by dint of missing it entirely.) and when dani was pushed out of honda and decided to call it a day in 2018, here's what sete had to say:

more recently, dani's spoken about the advice sete gave him late in his career:

"in my last years" does make it sound like he's being put down, eh. so yeah, a rider coach, but probably more importantly a friend. wonder if they're still close

[cammiluna]

For maybe half a year, I wanted an Android tablet with a pen after hating the idea for almost a decade because Android's tablet ecosystem is garbage and it lacked good art software for a while.

Currently, there's a 2024 Galaxy S6 Lite refresh that's exclusive to Amazon at around $250, and I jumped on that to try out the Android artist space again.

Since I already have a tablet PC and an ipad to do my main art projects, I didn't need a high end android tablet. Just something I can take on my regular commutes for notes and doodles which the other two devices are too bulky for.

I can tell you though, that this is pretty slow. Takes a while to load anything, charges maybe half as fast as modern phones or tablets in the $500 range, and while Clip Studio ran fine for drawing, I've had slight lag using the Concepts App. I suspect you can't make print-resolution comics with this thing, but it draws, and i do all my media consumption on other devices anyway.

Another thing to note is that the pen (which is included, yay) looks exactly the same as the S-pens that come with the normal Galaxy S models (at least my S7 from a few years ago), but it's not as weighted because there's no bluetooth hardware inside. I'm drawing with it fine, though I do switch pens sometimes.

If anyone is interested, I can write a long info post one of these days about all the S-Pen alternatives I know of and tried. At first, I was gonna save up extra money to get the new XP-Pen android tablet, but I like the flexibility of Wacom-powered EMR pens where i can choose between things like comfortable grip or something that magnetically attaches to the device or something. It's also easier to get cute cases and screen protectors for samsungs since they've been around forever!

There's three versions of the S6 lite. The new one has a slight spec bump and runs Android 14, so it should last a few years (both the XP Pen and Huion Androids are permanently stuck on Android 12). I believe the 2020 version is still supported, upgradeable to Android 13 and the third version is the 2022 version. All three are exactly the same in size and features- they just have different processors and android versions out of the box.

Conclusion:

I won't call this a beginner's tablet. If you're a beginner artist who hates apple and wants a standalone drawing tablet, but you also happen to have $500-700 standing around, splurge in getting a better tablet. If you don't like it for drawing, it can still be used for media consumption.

I don't regret this purchase because it does what I need it to in the most basic sense, but I would only recommend it if your needs for an android drawing tablet are the same as mine (super casual art and being able to try out android versions of drawing apps), or you are on a super tight budget. I believe the Galaxy S9 FE and the XP-Pen Magic Drawing Pad are good mid-tier models while the normal Galaxy S9/Plus/Ultra are the high tier.

This is probably the cheapest EMR Android tablet that comes with a pen and oh boy does the pen write so smooth!

I wish i can retire from using an ipad for art, but I need to learn how to use Clip Studio first since I've become overly-dependent on Procreate.

ah well!

[we-keep-odd-hours]

(repost of a tag game, original post was getting really long)

Ten questions to ask a mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first

Tagged by @rock-n-macabre

Do you think Severen survived the end of Near Dark and he's probably just chewing on roadkill somewhere until he gets his strength back? I think he's the most likely to have survived; there's so much emphasis on daylight, direct daylight being the only thing that can kill them, that his death seemed...an odd way to go out permanently. Personally, I like to lean on 'they'll all be fine eventually, it just won't be a very fun recovery, plus transfusions don't work like that and Mae and Caleb are still vampires.'

Weirdest song you get stuck in your head? A rotating mix of atrocious pop music; sometimes it's just snippets of whatever I've been listening to recently. Right now I have "Father" by the Misfits stuck in my head.

What is an item you wish would become a fad? Common sense; selfishly I do wish goth would go mainstream again like it did for two minutes in 2014ish, just to make it easier to find dark makeup.

If you had to live in an era, what would you choose? None in the past; I think it'd be fun to visit, but between health concerns and other factors I really wouldn't want to move someplace else. If i HAD to....just like. A couple decades earlier, I guess?

Fav genre of music? Most of what I listen to falls under the rock umbrella.

Fav past time? Writing, reading, I'm bad at it but also like painting. My favorite time-wasting activities outside of my house are wandering art museums and this really nice botanical garden I'm lucky to live near. I don't consider it a time-waster because it's my therapy, but I spend a LOT of time at the National Aquarium too (not exactly local, but not a horrible drive).

Gators or Crocs? like...the animals? Crocodiles are one of my favorite animals, but I love everything crocodilia. I have a bunch of tiny alligators and crocs on my desk at work, and another that lives on top of the radio in my car.

Possums or Armadillos? the latter for the novelty; we have a lot of possums around here so I'm used to seeing them.

Tacos or Burritos? tacos

(whew almost there...Im reaching for Qs) - Best Bill Paxton movie? EVIL. oh man. oh no. Don't make me do this, as I blog on a Near Dark blog, with a word doc for a fanfic open, in my red/white/black flannel shirt, whlie drinking out of my Aliens coffee mug. I'm not making choosing one. My favorite role of his is definitely Severen though.

Okay for my ten I'm going to be entirely self-serving and try to get some meta and head-canon conversation going on in the tags again:

Thoughts on Eric Red's idea for a Near Dark sequel? (Mae and Caleb's adult, human, daughter has a run in with "kin" of the Hookers.)

Top five movies with vampires?

If YOU were going to pitch a sequel (time machine back to 1987, or else a book/comic/etc) what would you say?

Favorite scene that isn't the bar scene?

We know (canon) that Mae was turned around 1982, Jesse around the Civil War, and (kiiiiiinda canon?) Severen in Tombstone in the late 19th century. When/where do you think Diamondback and Homer were from?

Do you think if Caleb got over his selectively applied human moral code that he would have made an okay vampire, eventually?

Severen: ace/aro spec, or no?

Any scenes that were changed from script to film, or otherwise cut that you wish made it into the movie/were done differently?

What would have happened if Loy and Sarah were at literally any other motel that night?

Aside from her god-awful taste in boys, what's your opinion on Mae?

taggging @rock-n-macabre again, @hex6rcist, @mrsvansickle04, @babieswrld, @ltofoceania, @lupinedreaming, @lektricfergus @tragantia, @osmanthusoolong, and @starfolk7 who is actually normal about this movie but whom I made sit down and watch it, as I have done and continue to do every time I find out one of my friends has never seen it.

And anyone else who wants to join in.

[archivalofsins]

I really enjoy how Yamanaka can encapsulate the guilt of being alive in his characters. That guilt from living and being human people all intrinsically have due to our shared history. Along with the ways we as individuals try to admonish ourselves for it.

The ways we begin to police ourselves and form ideologies to prop up the moral and right center we believe we should have. In what's a clear attempt to differentiate or sometimes make ourselves feel superior to others. It really highlights that at the end of the day, it's not just ones ideologies that hurt people but how they communicate and practice those things.

There are beliefs that people have crafted over decades for the sole purpose of hurting and devaluing others. Beliefs that one would be hard pressed to not find a person that on some level believes them regardless of where in the world they are. It'd be even more difficult not to run into someone who sympathizes with those who believe in something that is clearly harmful. Not because they think the thing is good but because they recognize this is a mistake they either could've made, almost made, or have wanted to make themselves.

Milgram is a good series because it serves to show, through its audiences response and participation, how many things left unsaid can become the foundation of biases. Biases that then go on to impact and inform how we treat others around us. It's easy to say religion is bad when it's not your beliefs being questioned.

It's harder for an individual to ask what beliefs that I hold dear are causing pain to those around me. Furthermore, how can I practice and keep to my beliefs in a way that causes no harm to others. Do I really believe this, or do I just like the impression of me it gives people if I say I believe this. What sort of person am I? Am I the lines I draw or the many ways I hold others to these lines but skirt around them myself? Is there a way to truly objectively be moral and in the right?

Or is the very act of conveniencing ourselves we can be just another form of human error?

What's the worst that could happen by interrogating the idea that I may be wrong? Does the possible blow to my ego matter more than the possibility for growth that could give? If I'm wrong about this, there's no telling what else I could be wrong about. What if I've been wrong about everything all my life, then what?

It's different when it's something we believe in ourselves. It's different when it's a cause one has convinced themselves to fight for. It's different when we have to cross our own lines. A lot of people equate changing with dying instead of growing. I believe this is because a lot of people feel shame and guilt over their past. So they say things like that was the old me, I'm not that person anymore.

Something that isn't always indicative of growth and come off as just plain denial.

Yes, I'm not the person I was yesterday. I won't be the person I am now, tomorrow or an hour from now. Yet, I'll still be me regardless of what I learn. Regardless of when I face what I have yet to know and it becomes what I now know. Regardless of if something from my past comes back to question me now. My feelings, views, and circumstances will keep changing because the fact that I'm alive today gives me the privilege to experience change.

When did people become ashamed of saying "I'm still me." When did it become more important to discrad oneself in the name of changing than to grow into yourself. When did change become denial? Plus, what exactly will it hurt to give ourselves space to fuck up and be wrong? What would people lose out on by not beating themselves down?

Instead of going the that was the old me going,

"During that time I was biased, stubborn, uniformed, and only centering my own views. I'm trying to be better now. I want to hear your opinion and be present in this moment with you. That can't happen if I'm always playing defense."

When we admit we're capable of doing wrong, it can feel bad. That sort of thing can really fucking sting. Yet if we never do, we ultimately deprive ourselves of the ability to be right. We ultimately trap ourselves in one spot. We put ourselves up on the same pedestal we place these characters on and try to do no wrong.

It's easy to say this sort of thing hurts the person doing it the most. Easy to see how this mindset can impact us because we're the one's experiencing it. It can feel like someone is the only person experiencing these things at times. That others just don't understand, and they may not be asking them to anyway.

That's their weight, their duty. Their's to carry nobody else's. Then, one day, they'll look up wondering why this thing they were meant to carry on their own has crushed everyone around. If it was their choice, why didn't it just impact them? That's the fair thing after all.

Yet, that's just not how living works. Our choices, beliefs, and views impact more than just ourselves because we're people. We live in a shared experience with the others around us. It's a miraculous and amazing thing. If the Milgram characters couldn't impact and interact with each other... If they couldn't form or deny community within the prison.

Would it still be Milgram? If we didn't have that choice ourselves, would we still be living? Those sort of things. Displaying those types of characters and creating that sort of atmosphere. It's difficult but endlessly entertaining.

[delucadarlingwriting]

I just reblogged a post on my main that made me immediately start hallucinating another Barbie/Mason AU. I'm not actually writing it all out here but I am throwing the concept down so I can come back and chew on it later.

Barbie and Mason meet one another a hundred or so years ago, both human. They butt heads at first, but through a shared interest (music, considering Mishka said some time ago that M can play an upright bass and Barbie plays piano and drums) manage to find harmony. I don't think they ever manage to get married in this one, but they have a ton of sexual tension that they probably manage to release one time.

Because after that, Mason just...disappears. No one knows where he went, what happened, nothing. Someone suggests he ran off because he and Barbie finally sealed the deal and he wasn't interested in making an honest woman of her. 1) Barbie doesn't buy that and 2) she's never known when to leave well enough alone. Plus, she's always had an interest in the occult, so she definitely starts digging into it. Maybe there'd even been rumors recently of some strange happenings, so she's already got it on the brain.

Somewhere in the next few decades, she finds her proof that the supernatural world exists and supernatural beings live among humans. She finds the Agency, but they just try mind wiping her. Maybe succeed. I've always liked toying with the idea of Barbie, no special blood to help her, managing to undo any mind wiping through pure spite.

Well, knowing the Agency won't help her find her lost lover, she seeks out a supernatural who can turn her immortal. She's in her 70s now for god's sake, it's only getting harder to do this shit and she knows any kind of change will just be riskier as she ages. There's no way she risking dying before solving this mystery either. So, she turns. Probably into a fairy.

And she continues looking. Eventually, there's a lot of murmuring in the supernatural community that people are moving into Wayhaven, a little town in Nowhere, Massachusetts (which is where @crownleys and I like to imagine it). Intrigued, Barbie decides to scope it out. Being in the middle of Book 3, she ends up snatched by some Trappers and sold to the auctioneer. Sucks, but then she's busted out! Yippie!

And as she's biting the head off someone from the Agency about them being gatekeeping, hamfisted, short sighted assholes...she looks over and sees him. After almost a hundred years, that's Mason. That's the man she fell in love with, lost, and spent all this time looking for.

She IMMEDIATELY books it out of there.

At a certain point, she had to stop mourning Mason even as she looked for him. She stopped feeling wretched, she stopped feeling like she was dying whenever she thought about what might be happening to him (or thinking that he may well just be dead at this point), and she just started living. Sure, she made it her life goal to find him, but that's just kind of Barbie. She's like a dog with a bone. She doesn't let go.

Now though, she has to face the fact that she...kind of already got over all of this. She hadn't actually considered what she might do when she finally finds Mason. Especially because, in her mind, if he's alive...why didn't he ever try to find her?

She does still move to Wayhaven. A nice little house, small yard, small garden. She takes up some work with the library and starts vaguely plotting out how she could oust the mayor.

At some point, before book 4 starts, she runs into Mason again. She's surprised it hasn't happened before, but Mason's not much into townie life. She bolsters her courage and approaches him, ready to hear from the horse's mouth exactly why he disappeared all those years ago.

Naturally, Mason's like "who the fuck are you". It doesn't take much for Barbie to realize his memories have been fucked with, Mason's extremely weirded out, then practically panics upon realizing she knew him from before he was a vampire. He does not want her to somehow break the walls in his mind. I imagine Unit Bravo isn't too far off, Nat and Ava managing to separate them, even as Barbie's SHOUTING at Mason, very much hoping to make him remember her.

The Agency is naturally furious, they didn't realize Barbie had gone and turned immortal. Barbie is sat down and has the situation with Mason explained. She needs to stay away from him. For his own sake.

(She does not do that)

(But neither does he)

He doesn't want to remember her, he doesn't want to break anything in his head. He's content the way he is, especially given that he's not fucking interested in romance.

Barbie can accept that. No romance, fine. No reminding him of the past, fine. They can just pretend to be the perfect strangers they are to Mason. And Mason, unable to figure out just why he would even risk this for someone he does not know...he agrees.

Naturally this all has to be a secret, because Nat and Ava would sooner shoot Barbie out of a cannon straight into the sun than let Mason fuck himself up over her.

That's all I've got, but I'm just kicking my feet and making my little dolls run around in my mind now.

[hikarry]

So, if Aziraphale hadn't stopped the other angel, Crowley would have been discorporated? What did Aziraphale do to the other angel exactly? Is Heaven going to find out he interfered? Why was Crowley in France and was that the reason Aziraphale was there too?

Oh yeah! Lore question! Let's go!

Yes! Crowley would have been discorporated. In the Biblical War universe, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't the only angel and demon on Earth since the beginning of time. There are multiple angels and demons around the world and, while some focus on assignments, others focus on hunting the other and some do both.

Aziraphale and Crowley only do assignments, they never have discorporated anyone. Not that they couldn't, but they never have.

When they do cross other angels and demons during their assignments they mostly ignore them, if they are not attacked. When they meet each other, however, they enjoy playing cat and mouse. They've mentioned they've met before during assignments. And they enjoy chasing each other and fake fighting, to keep up expectations. Angels and Demons are supposed to fight each other when they meet even if they are the "only assignments" type, after all.

Now, the angel that came for Crowley in Paris was a hunter. He had been tailing Crowley for a while and that's why Crowley is actually expecting him.

Sometimes, when certain demons are being a pain in the ass, Heaven will specifically target them and have them discorporated. Getting a new corporation in Hell takes, in Earthly time, about 3 or 4 decades so it's a problem cleared for a while.

Now, in this universe, demons are easier to discorporate than angels. Angels have God's grace, what do demons have? Satan's grace? Nah, that doesn't exist. Plus, their corporations are cheaper. So, even if a demon stabs an angel in the heart, it doesn't exactly mean discorporation, because they can cure themselves (and others). Demons can't.

So, the ratio Demon per Angel discorporated is quite unbalanced. Hell focus more on assignments than hunting. More about strategy, that's why Crowley is actually a prime Hell weapon: he has his wits. So he must be eliminated for a while. Or so Heaven tried.

Aziraphale discorporated the other angel before the angel could even think about discorporating Crowley. Which, you can imagine, had never happened before. Why would an angel discorporate another angel? They wouldn't. Yet, Aziraphale did. And, as I've said, discorporating an angel is very hard. Even for another angel. Its two graces hitting each other. Like two rocks hitting each other. Sure, one might crumble faster, but the other won't exactly escape unchanged. When Aziraphale discorporates the angel, he literally has to bend the methaphysical world to rip him out of the corporation. And when he does, his True Form is also affected. The whole stone hitting stone thing. Crowley doesn't know about that consequence. No one does, really, but Aziraphale himself because no one but the two of them know what Aziraphale did. That's why discorporating that angel was so important and made Crowley break a little. Aziraphale pretty much did one of the most tabboo things in the rule book to save his arse. If Heaven finds out about what he did, something very bad could happen - no one knows what exactly, because it has never happened before, but alas. Bet stabbing one of your own on the back in the middle of a battle wouldn't be taken too kindly by your captain, yes?

Maybe? Maybe not. Keep reading.

Crowley is in France because he was trying to escape the angel and his instict was to be near Aziraphale. So, technically, it's the opposite: Crowley is in Paris because Aziraphale is in Paris. Not that he actually expected Aziraphale to be around to save him. Or that, even if he was, Crowley expected Aziraphale to actually do something against his own kind. It was more due to the sense of security. If he had indeed to be discorporated, let him a least be somewhat as close to Aziraphale as he can imagine.

Neither Crowley or Aziraphale have ever been discorporated before, so he doesn't know what it feels like. Crowley is all cool and suave, but, with discorporation hanging over his head, he is scared. How much does it hurt? As bad as the Fall? Will something change in his True Form? Will he actually be able to return from Downstairs? He doesn't know. And the lack of knowledge makes him uneasy. Makes him, well. Scared.

Crowley is a lone wolf. Most demons are. So the closest thing he has to...anything at all, is Aziraphale. Even though they only speak through letters, even though when they are face to face they have to play the "I hate you and want to kill you" game, Aziraphale is the closest thing to something trustful he has. So, you know when you are a child and you get sick and you become clingy and go to sleep in your parents' bed - if you have a healthy relationship with your parents innit -? Same logic.

Danger = Need for comfort

Aziraphale is comfort

And, as it's said in the beginning of the chapter, Aziraphale was in France to learn French from Monsieur Rossignol. Seeing Crowley was very much not planned. Crowley just got very very lucky

Luck of the devil, one would say, eh?

[laylasverse]

LAYLA MORETTI ✶ 𝓣𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗗𝗥

❝ you're my partner in crime. you're the feeling i get when i'm feeling fine. part of me wants you, but most of me needs you. so i won't fall unless you ask me to. ❞ S̲T̲E̲A̲M̲R̲O̲L̲L̲E̲R̲.̲

🐻ིྀ : LAYLA ALICE MORETTI IS . . . the social media manager of chicago's own chaotic restaurant; the bear. she also happens to be carmy's childhood best friend & current roommate.

2022 ( 📌 ) chicago, illinois

SEASON ONE . . . while carmen was gone layla stayed in chicago and finished her degree in graphic design. once he arrived back in chicago layla took him in and allowed him to stay with her until he "got back on his feet." but they both know she would never kick him out. she's been head over heels in love with carm for almost a decade . . . plus he keeps her fed.

꒰ layla & carmen ꒱

౨ৎ : just another childhood friends to lovers that's been brewing for years bc that's all i know lol