#anyway i like to get everything as accurate as possible in my head

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Why has Barnaby made TWO hospital visits in one year??? What was the first one about??? [<-Talking about the Human AU]

no yeah the first one was Howdy's brief stint (a couple hours) for the whole smoke inhilation minor injuries from the fire thing.

the second one was for Wally's festive lil car crash where he comes very close to Fuckign Dying!!! and. well. technically there are many different visits for that one cause he's in the hospital for a hot sec, but yk. technically only two hospital-worthy events

[runningwithscizzorz]

I’ve been looking through your art tutorials and my gosh they are so amazing because they really taught me a lot !!! I appreciate them and your artwork !! Anyways, I have a question: How do you draw hair? How can you make it not so stiff; like the wind is blowing or youre putting it into a ponytail?

Art tip: Make the thing you least enjoy drawing the most interesting and fun part to create, everything gets easier from there

I love, love, love drawing hair. Specifically extremely curly hair. I myself don’t have curly hair, but I’ve always loved how it looks. Even when I draw characters with assumed straight hair (Red Son, MK, Link, Mei, all those guys) I make their hair very wavy, as if water is constantly moving through it. Now, hold onto your hats, but my style of drawing hair comes from many, many, many different sources. Down below are just the most accurate ones I could find in my photos alone through all my references.

Do not, I repeat, do NOT DRAW YOUR STYLE FROM A SINGLE SOURCE. Your art will become as stagnant as a puddle of water in a forest. You will get bored and burnt out. With me, scrolling through all my favorite art, making references with my own body, taking photos and researching what I need to add into my work to bring more life to it, keeps my work smooth and my artistic mind happy and stimulated. This is where the drawing part actually begins.

Reminder that hair doesn't come out of a single point from your head. Hair grows out of your WHOLE HEAD, not just the, uuhhh, whatever the fuck that little spiral thing in your hair is called. I make my hair layered and choppy to show as much density and weight as possible

[theblueseassoul]

“Exauhsted.”

It’s been a long day.

I might make a part two.

Song listened to while writing: “What the water gave me - Florence + The Machine”

Zayne x Reader

Love and deep space fan fiction

Talk of mental health.

No use of Y/n. Gender neutral reader. Read in the second person. Established relationship.

This past week has been hell. And the most annoying part is that you have absolutely no idea why. This happened once in a while, but it hadn’t happened in so long so you thought you’d be able to escape it for a while longer. Instead, here you sat curled up in your work chair, arms around your legs and gazing out of the window nearby once more. At least it had a nice view of the city, you thought, as you watched time pass. You sighed softly, closing your eyes for a moment. Not even a few moments later, you heard someone call out your name. You winced, hoping if you hid your head in your arms they wouldn’t see you, but you knew that isn’t how it worked. They called your name again.

When you looked up, you found Alexander. Alexander was your co-worker, and often took your kindness for granted. You worked hard, everyone knew that, you even took on missions that you weren’t even required to do. You loved your job. This was something you’d dreamed of for… you don’t know how long. So of course you put everything you had into it, you were protecting people by doing your job. It was worth it. However, Alexander made you hate it just for a moment. a brief moment but a moment nonetheless. He grinned, brown hair annoyingly messy as was his uniform. “Are you done with that assignment I asked you to help me with?” He asked, leaning against your desk.

You raised a brow slightly but offered your politest smile. You could have done better on a better day, however this was not one of them, so that was the best he would get. “I did. I saw you had a lot of errors though. You missed a lot of dangerous-“ as you pulled it up to show him what had gone wrong, he waved his hand and cut you off.

“It’s whatever. No one actually reads them.” Alexander’s tone was dismissive, not even glancing at the highlighted sections. You looked at the title of the document and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. It was a complete overview of one of the sectors of the city getting more wanderers by the day, and metaflux’s. You knew people read them because you were people. These were given out to hunters for assignments to know what to expect. They were updated frequently and needed to be as accurate as possible for both hunter and civilian safety. You looked back at him.

“Yes, we do.” You stated, losing the patience you had to smile. “It’s actually vital for us hunters and the civilians who might come across these areas. You know that right? That lives depend on these reports?”

He scoffed, mumbling dismissive none sense and waving his hand in the air once more before saying “thanks for finishing it anyways. See you tomorrow yeah?” As he turned his back, you rolled your eyes and put your head face in your hands, mocking him under your breath.

“See you tomorrow! Whatever.” You murmured and once you knew he was out of the room, groaned in annoyance as you leaned back into your chair. “No one reads it anyways.” You mocked again, shaking your head. “Come on. It’s like you forgot the…” you went on into a nonsensical ramble and continued, until you noticed your phone buzzing next to your mouse. You sat up, picking up your phone and reading the caller ID. It read ‘snowy seal.’ It was Zayne, your doctor, and your boyfriend who didn’t call out of the blue often. You raised a brow and picked up, and he spoke almost immediately.

“There you are.” He hummed into the speaker, and as you started to question him, he continued “I texted you when my shift ended. Usually you’re done by now, are you working over time? You know you shouldn’t.” He warned you. You smiled softly. You knew he was lecturing you again, but it made you feel all warm inside knowing he cared so much. He was stern about it, but he was always that way. It was part of his charm.

“No, I was just..” you sighed, blowing a raspberry as you stood up. You turned off your computer with one hand while you held the phone up to your ear with the other “A co worker wanted to speak with me. Did you need something?” You asked, putting your jacket on your fore arm and picking up your back. He paused for a moment, the sound of a car rushing by before he started talking again.

“I’m waiting outside. Hurry, let’s go home.” Zayne said, and you swore you could hear the soft grin through the phone. Once you had everything and said goodbye to everyone, you left, and it only took a few steps before you heard your boyfriend’s cool voice calling your name. You smiled in almost relief, and wrapped your arms around him immediately. He hugged you back, one arm firmly around your waist and the other against your back holding you close to him.

At home, after you’d gotten changed and showered, you decided to do the dishes. They were piling up anyways. So you rolled your sleeves up, and started to empty the dishwasher. Usually, this task came easily to you. Of course you had your moments when motivation wasn’t at its peak, but if you forced yourself to do it, you would find yourself more content by the end of it. It was the same with a lot of house hold chores. You didn’t mind doing them, it was your house, of course you should take care of it. But it was just.. hard sometimes. You felt like a child because of it, how emotional you got over small things. Bouts of depression, Zayne called it. When it was hard to do anything at all. You forced your way through it though, with the help of your trusty doctor.

While you put the dishes away, you had dropped a plastic cup. You clicked your tongue softly in annoyance, “god..” you murmured and picked it up, rolling your eyes at yourself before putting it in its cabinet. Then, after a while, you dropped a spatula after letting go too early. This too made your patience wane. You felt the pricking feeling in the back of your eyes when you got frustrated, and got even more frustrated. You sighed and placed the spatula in its drawer, muttering “stay.” Before closing it. The last straw was when you were putting away pans, when they all fell out of the cabinet because they wouldn’t fit. At this point you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or cry. The clashing and clanging was more than enough to wince, and you had to step back for a moment and try not to absolutely break down then and there. You flexed your hands, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous to get upset about.” You told yourself. You headed to the fridge for a drink, and on the way.. you ended up ramming your side into the island corner.

Zayne had walked into the kitchen then. Just as you simply gave up, sliding against the island and to the floor, covering your face. He heard you muttering to yourself about something stupid, being annoyed, and such. He knew how you got. You must’ve had a hard day, he thought. Or week. Or month. And so he carefully knelt down beside you, hand on your arm. “Honey.” He called, softly, in a tone he only ever used with you to calm you. Usually you felt special. Right now you were just filled with conflicting emotions you didn’t really know what to do or how to respond.

“Not even something to get upset about. Just dishes.” You groaned to yourself as you pulled your head up from your hands. Zayne carefully pulled you up to your feet, and walked you into your bedroom, rubbing your shoulder the whole time. He listened to your nonesense words, talking about how “I don’t even know why they all fell out.” Or “I’m so clumsy today. What is wrong with me.” Sometimes it wasn’t words, just noises sort of mushed together. He understood anyways.

Zayne sat you down on the bed, and crawled in beside you. He pulled the comforter over the both of you and opened an arm towards you, offering a hug if you wanted it. You leaned into him almost immediately, and his arm wrapped around you tightly, to keep you firmly against his side. He was silent for a while. He usually waited for you to start talking about what bothered you, because he didn’t want you to talk about it if you didn’t feel up to it. You did this time, but you didn’t even know what the issue was. That was what made it so frustrating. He rubbed his thumb against your arm, and asked softly “rough day?”

You sniffed. “I don’t know.” You shook your head, and he nodded slightly, to let you know he was listening. You continued, “I did what I usually do. I fought wanderers. Did reports. Alexander, he handed me an unfinished report and asked if I could do it because he had so much to do and I said yes.”

“The man who never finishes on time?”

“Yeah.” You nodded to Zayne’s question. “So I did. I found some stuff wrong so I corrected them and told him about it and he said..” you rolled your eyes, your lips pulling into a frown “no one ever reads them so why doesn’t it matter.” You threw a hand up slightly. “Like he doesn’t know that it’s actually crucial. Like what it a civilian wandered there and got hurt because we didn’t keep them from it because the report said there wasn’t any danger but there was. Someone could die. It’s our job to protect these people, you know?” You dropped your hand helplessly and shuffled closer to Zayne. “But that isn’t even what made me upset. It was dropping dishes.” You scoffed.

He hummed softly as he listened to you, leaning his head against yours as you curled into him further. When you stopped your ramble, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before he spoke “it sounds like you’re just overwhelmed. It happens, it’s alright.” Zayne said, rocking you back and forth slightly with him. His words were always carefully chosen, you could tell by the slow way he spoke and the pauses between his sentences. It was a nice grounder though. “You’ve been working very hard lately. I’m proud of you, you know.” This was just above a whisper, just for your ears. He rested his chin against your head again.

“You should take a day off.” Zayne suddenly suggested. You looked up at him, puzzled. He glanced at you and chuckled softly and continued to explain “you deserve it. You haven’t taken a day off in.. ages. If you do, I’ll stay here and take care of you. You can come into the office with me as well, if you want.” He said, squeezing your shoulders gently. You debated it, tilting your head into him and looking down at your hands laying in your lap.

“Mm.” You hummed softly in thought. You debated it, wondering if it was a good idea. You have been working hard lately, it wouldn’t hurt to have a day off. Just one. With Zayne, no less. He was usually drowning with work, it would be nice to have a just the two of you day. You nodded “I’d like that.” You finally said, looking up at him.

He smiled softly, a smile he only gave you. Warm, and filled with so much love it made your heart melt every time you saw it. “Good.” He kissed your forehead, and then your nose bridge, the tip of your nose, and then two firm ones against your cheeks, kissing away the trails the tears from before had left. “Let’s get you to bed early then. I’ll make dinner, after you’ll take your medicine, and tomorrow we will have lots of staying home to do.” He said, happily. You nodded, a warm smile spreading over your lips to match his.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi! can i request ken x (male) reader who’s from texas and breaking ken’s idea of the patriarchy (mostly the realities of cowboy life lol) thank you!!

"Now what're you supposed to be, a cowboy or somethin'? Because it looks like you're goin' to a fashion show upstate."

Blinking owlishly, Ken spun around on his heels, coming face-to-face with you. He looked at your clothing up and down, noting you had a hat similar to his, along with ripped jeans, cowboy boots, and a buttoned plaid shirt.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion, not seeing an apparent difference.

Nevertheless, he realized you were another human male who was trying to talk to him, and he was excited! This was his big chance to learn more about the patriarchy of the Real World!

But he didn't wanna let his eagerness show too much, so he leaned against a nearby pillar, keeping the books tucked against his side.

"Nah, I ain't goin' to no fashion show....partner..." He made a poor attempt at mimicking your accent, which he noted was heavily Southern, and it took all your willpower not to laugh your ass off.

Yet you couldn't help chuckling anyways, which made the blond pout as he adjusted the brim of his hat. "Awh I'm only teasin'." You shook your head. "I will say it does fit ya pretty good. Haven't seen anything like that back in Texas."

"...oh really? Thanks!" He put a big smile back on, trying to sound cool and casual. "Sounds like a fun place. I'm just here..seeing what this world's all about...getting accustomed to the patriarchy. Man, I wish Barbie told me about-"

"Hold on..." You stopped him in his tracks, being perplexed by several things he just said. "What about the patriarchy? You act as though it's a lifestyle-"

"Is it not? Because I see it all around us!" He spread his arms out. "It's incredible! Everything's backwards but yet...I'm just amazed! This world caters to us men!" Then he stepped closer, showing you the books in his hands depicting studies of horses and patriarchy, a sparkle in his eye. "Look, these books have already taught me so much!"

You blinked, taking one of them and frowning as you recognized the barcode as being from the school your cousin attended. "Ya realize you stole these from a school library, right-?"

"Back in Barbieland, we Kens had none of this stuff!!" He ignored your remark, yanking the book from your hands as he continued to babble on and on and how "awesome" the patriarchy is while pointing to a nearby horse statue.

He's acting as though this was the first time he's ever heard of it, firmly believing that it's all about men and horses.

That would've convinced you that this guy was either insane or living under a rock all his life....had he not mentioned "Barbieland", "Barbie", and "Ken".

'As in...the dolls my little cousins played with?' You pondered. 'Well it would certainly explain the outlandish outfit..and how it doesn't look like any lights are on upstairs...'

"So.." You cleared your throat, he was quick to shut up and let you continue, blinking as you offered your hand. "Before I forget...the name's [y/n]. A pleasure to meet ya."

He studied your gesture intensely, before putting forth his manliest handshake possible, his eyes lighting up when you laughed and complimented his strong grip. "And I'm Ken, the pleasure's all mine."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Well, [y/n]. You seem to embody everything a human man is, so...you got any advice for a fellow man who only just recently learned of all these great luxuries?" He raised an eyebrow.

You thought about it for a few moments, letting his hand go as your gaze went back to the books tucked under his arm. "Yeah, uh..for one, ya seem to be holdin' onto this "idea" that patriarchy's all about the horses. I hate to break it to ya....but it ain't that simple."

"....wait, it's not..?" He blinked in bewilderment, looking to the books and frowning. "Are you sure? Because these books told me-"

"They're outdated an' used for history projects at school. They don't accurately showcase modern cowboy culture, which is what ya seem to be enthralled with."

"...these don't???" His voice became higher-pitched, becoming utterly devastated that he was lied to. "But if it's not about horses..then...then what about the statues, hm? And those officers riding them?!"

"Ken..in this world anybody can ride a horse if they wanted to. You just happen to see more guys than gals doin' it."

"Oh..."

"Look, it's true that more men are in charge of stuff here in LA, but the patriarchy is really just a messy system that harms both sides." You frowned slightly. "It ain't somethin' I'd wanna idolize."

"...but why?"

You sighed, unsure of how you could possibly dumb it down for him even further. "'cuz it's turned some of my own friends and family into vile dirtbags who think the world owes them everything. I'd hate to see ya fall down that same pipeline."

He nodded in slight understanding, but seemed rather sad as he hugged the books to his chest, feeling like his dreams were shattered just as he began to realize them..

"I thought it was just like Barbieland..."

"Ya'll got a matriarchy there?"

"...I guess..? They write all the constitutions and stuff."

"And...how do they treat ya?"

"Like we're accessories." Ken huffed, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "They aren't terrible, but...I only have a good day when Barbie looks at me..which...hasn't been happening lately. I was thinking if I could show her the cool horses and stuff...she'll see me differently. See me for the man I can be."

You never expected for this conversation to derail into you trying to resolve a doll's identity crisis, but it's clear he was holding onto the misconception that the "Real World" was just opposite of Barbieland--where men had it all here and ruled without flaw.

That was far from the truth.

"Now changin' yourself for a lady isn't what ya wanna do, son." You patted his shoulder, causing him to look up at you in astonishment. "You're good enough as you are. But I take it that deep down...ya just care about the horses?"

He nodded again.

"Then..how about instead of reading this misleading garbage--" You tapped the binder of one of the books "--ya talk to someone who's lived the authentic cowboy life? Somebody with experience?"

Looking all around, he seemed confused for a moment, before his gaze returned to yours. "Like....you?"

"Yup."

"Isn't being a man and wearing this not enough?"

"It's a wee bit more complicated than that. It's hard work. But if you're interested in that sort of life, I can tell ya all about it." You offered, smiling as you watched the grin return to his face.

"I'd love that. Now if I don't need these stupid books, then I'll just--" He went to toss the stack into the nearest trash bin, but you were quick to intervene.

"Hey, hey, hey! Ya can't just throw away school property like that!"

"...but you just called this "garbage"."

"It's a figure of speech, Ken." Sighing, you just shook your head, taking the books off his hands. "You'll learn a lot about that here. Let's just go return these and I'll tell ya all about my life back in Texas. Whatever ya wanna know, I'll do my best to answer."

Ken's eyes shimmered at the prospect of hanging out with another guy..like all the other humans he's seen. That's all he truly wanted, really--just to bond with someone and not be in some aggressive rivalry unlike what he had with the other Kens.

He's lucky he ran into you.

"Can I ask something now?"

"Sure..if it's less than ten words." You humored him.

"Do..you..own..horses..? That's four." He grinned, counting on his fingers just to be sure of it.

"I do. Poor things couldn't take the dry heat of Texas, so they came along with me in a truck. I'll show ya pictures after we return these books."

Ken nodded eagerly, unable to hide his excitement as he followed you back to the library, ready to learn more about your culture.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hotel Room

PAIRING: Tangerine x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2392

SUMMARY: changing plans midway into a mission in Tokyo- you, Tangerine and Lemon decide to stay in a hotel instead of taking the bullet train.

TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ only. dry humping, pinv, unprotected sex, pull out. no use of y/n MINORS DNI.

A/N: this is my first post and im a little scared to post it, so please plz be kind. I tried to keep it as accurate as possible, however I accidentally made Tangerine kinder than I had originally planned and changed some things about the film plot so it doesn’t create a domino effect in this- aka Tan dying

rewritten 09/12/23 - no change to the plot, just made it less crap

"I don't think we should be getting this train," you mutter like you were talking to yourself, eyes darting across the busy platform of the station. "Guys?" you repeat, turning to see only Lemon behind you. "I don't think we should get this train."

"Yeah?" Lemon hums, sounding distracted.  

"I have a bad feeling. The next one is in thirty minutes. I say we wait," you respond, wary eyes glancing around.

Tangerine joins you both, looking over the tickets he just collected. "What's that now?" he questions, brows furrowed.

"I got intel someone I used to know might be on here," you murmur, avoiding the Twins' focused gaze.

"Like an ex?" Tangerine prods, his tone slightly cautious.

"No— stop it. I'm being serious," you emphasise, eyes squinting to show your annoyance.

Usually, when others act possessive around you, you'd turn the other way - having no interest in games. But when you talk about other guys in front of Tangerine, you'd often notice how his forehead vein would subtly protrude, like he was bubbling with rage from the inside - keeping it hidden. Though you'd always notice. It wasn't hard to tell when he was jealous. His quick, snappy comments are often the main giveaway.

"Alright, alright. Keep'ya knickers on, bellend," he scoffs, crossing his arms and widening his stance as if he was trying to intimidate you - which it doesn't.

"Okay, so, you remember Johannesburg? When we saw that guy— dirty blonde, mid-length hair? Facial hair? Yellow outfit. Looked like a prisoner? That one?" 

"No, not really," Lemon adds, shaking his head - looking clueless.

"Lemon. You shot him— a few times."

"No, not ringing a bell," he continues, just as clueless as before. "Oh, you mean Joburg?"

Tangerine pipes in, sighing. "Yes, you daft fuck."

"Well, I was just checking."

"Yeah, but it ain't important now, is it?" the twins bicker, overlapping each other.

"Oh my god," you mutter, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "Right, anyway, none of that's important. I used to work with him— Ladybug, like way way way back. I got a tip-off he's gonna be getting this train, and he's clearly been assigned to snatch that case," you nod to the silver briefcase tucked under Lemon's arm. 

"We can keep the case safe. We got hired for that reason," Tangerine adds, subtly reassuring you. 

"No, no. That doesn't matter. He's seeing a new therapist, and he's got some weird fate, destiny thing protecting him— like everyone except him gets hurt. I dunno about you, but I don't really feel like getting shot at again today."

You look between the brothers, eyes softening like you are talking without words - telling them things to make them take your side, to make them see that you're trying to protect them. You find it harder to pull away from Tan's fixed blue gaze, feeling strangely hypnotised under his attention.

"Okay," Tangerine agrees simply. "We'll wait," he nods, extending his hands towards you, resting them on your shoulder as if he's comforting you - telling you in his own way that everything will be okay. He rips his hands away when he hears a cough from beside him - Lemon suspicious at the placement.

The kind gesture wasn't long-lived, but it helped. A lot.

You suggest staying in a nearby hotel for the night, offering to try again in the early hours of the morning. The case would be safe, and that's what mattered.

————

You and the twins walk into the quiet hotel lobby, asking for three rooms - preferably all next door to each other. Once collecting the key cards, you make your way up to your floor, letting yourselves into your rooms with a quick nod to one another, silently saying goodnight.

After the nonstop events of today, all you wanted was to shower. To wash away the grime of the day, literally.

You throw your overnight bag on the floor and do a quick sweep of the room to check it's safe, then head into the bathroom, stepping into the shower to begin a lengthy wash.

Afterwards, you pat yourself dry with a fluffy hotel towel, dressing in an oversized tee when you hear a few rhythmic knocks at the door. You look through the peephole to see a wet, curly-haired, ‘stached man - there was only one person that could be.

You tug on the hem of your t-shirt, covering your exposed thighs as you open the door, greeted by Tangerine on the other side wearing a baggy tee and a pair of boxers.

His eyes leisurely travel over you, slowly pulling away from your thighs that you subtly tried to hide. He coughs, clearing his throat like he's refocusing, diverting his attention from your lower half back to your fresh face.

"Just doing bed check. And you are... ahem," he masks the pause in another cough. "You are accounted for. So that's. That's good."

"Right, okay," you murmur, purposely keeping your gaze fixed on his face - stopping your eyes from glancing lower.

He hesitates, lingering like that wasn't all he knocked for. You wanted to invite him in. To hang out for a bit. But you get all finicky and squirrely when it's just the two of you, and you never know what to say or do. It was like you couldn't think straight, his aftershave and biceps acting like a barrier in your brain. Besides, it's not like anything can happen between you anyway - he didn't like you in that way.

He clears his throat once more, scratching the back of his neck. "My tv ain't working. I don't wanna watch Lem's shit, so can I watch some in your room?"

Letting out a small puff of a sigh, you agree and move aside, allowing him to walk past. He settles in almost instantly, shimmying himself under the covers and flicking through the channels, trying to find something good to watch.

You sit down awkwardly beside him, leaving a safe and comfortable gap between you, subtly scootching away when he moves closer to you.

"What's up with you? You're being well weird," he asks, diverting his attention from the Japanese game show to you, looking over you with furrowed brows.

"I'm not being weird. You're being weird," you divert, crossing your arms over yourself, trying to minimise space. "Just trying to get comfy."

"That's cos'ya hanging off the bed, knobhead. Get closer, then."

He swiftly pulls you closer, gently dragging you towards him so that both of you are leaning against the headboard, his arm draped over your shoulder.

It was the complete opposite of what you were trying to accomplish - now smushed up close to his side, forced to smell his masculine shower gel. You had no idea what to do with yourself.

You have only been this close in proximity a few times. And on those occasions, one of you would always be drunk - never to be brought up again. But when you're sitting so close to him, both completely sober, your brain can't help but stir up those feelings you've been trying to suppress.

Lewd and vulgar thoughts spiralled around when you feel the steady sound of his heartbeat against your arm, everything so casual and natural - like everything was a breeze with him. Your mind begins to wander when you feel him shift beside you, legs spreading, groin adjusting like he was making himself comfortable - like he was situating himself in your bed for the night.

In your line of work, you don't often experience genuine human interactions - ones that are soft and gentle, ones filled with tender love and care. Every encounter lately has ended in a blood bath - literally. 

So when you feel Tangerine's hand slip into yours, you can't help but overthink it. It was so unlike him to physically show how he felt, so it was tricky not to question his motives.

His thumb swipes over your hand, softly squeezing yours, so you decide to look up at him, but he is already focused on you - the tv a mere thought away. The way he looked at you was so unexpected, so different to all the other times. 

All you could offer under his concentrated attention was a faint and gentle smile, nose softly scrunching as you held his gaze. He returns with a boyish grin, tache twitching with the movement.

You momentarily break eye contact, quickly glancing down at his lips. You thought you were sneaky, but the way his breathing ever so slightly faltered told you otherwise. 

He slowly leans towards you, his movements articulate and calculated as he pulls you in for a kiss, working over your lips carefully and considerately. His large palms nestling on the side of your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss - everything turning somewhat desperate. Hasty.

His mouth travels away from your slightly bruised lips, now working along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Muttering faint groans into your skin as you tug on the damp curls at the back of his head - holding him close to you.

Tangerine's movements remain dominant. In charge. Guiding you and bringing you down the bed, laying you flat on your back so he can situate himself between your spread legs - hovering atop of you with his chest pressed to yours.

His cock feels firm against you, tucked and slotted perfectly between your thighs, nudging and brushing your clit with every subtle move he makes. 

It wasn't long before you found yourself whimpering into his mouth and toying with your hips, the dry humping working you up more than you had thought.

He parts from your lips, looking into your hazy, blissed-out eyes -ones that mirror his own- and begins to lazily push up your tee, stroking up your stomach, exposing just what he wanted to see; plushy tits and cute soft tummy. 

You help him out of his t-shirt, wanting to see more. Eager fingers trailing over the contours of his stomach before pulling him back to you, his happy trail brushing against your abdomen - chests sandwiched together. 

He trails a faint line of kisses down your neck and along your collarbone as he slips himself from your grasp, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He picks up your hand, sliding his gold rings onto your fingers. "Look after these for me, would'ya?" he whispers, kissing the back of your hand.

It's then that he finally slips a hand between your legs, faintly trailing up and down your slit, teasing you as he palms his cock through his tented boxers, circling over the wet patch of fabric - right by his head.

His gaze remains lidded, lazily looking over you as he dips his hand into the waistband, rolling over his aching cock a couple of times. Your eyes respond pleadingly, silently begging him to hurry up.

Your keen fingers make haste movements, brushing over his boxers like you were trying to strip them from him - doing his job for him. 

He answers your prayers and tugs down the fabric, flinging his briefs to the edge of the bed, letting his thick, hard cock spring free. He grips himself at the base, guiding his head towards your slick hole - rimming his tip around before slowly easing in. 

He goes slow, steady. Like he has all the time in the world. Letting you adjust and accustom his size, deeply filling you. Bottoming out.

With his cock stuffed inside, he leans over you once more, hovering over you and caging you to the mattress - your arms and legs clinging onto him, wrapping around him like a monkey on a tree. 

"Fuck me," Tangerine blabbers, voice hoarse and incoherent. Hot grunts against your throat as he winds into you, cock grinding inside you. "Christ."

He brings his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks, holding you still so he can lap over your lips, swallowing your whimpers - your sweet pretty sounds muffling against his tongue. 

Your touch mirrors his, moving your hands from his back to hold either side of his face, pushing away a stray curl that fell. Holding him close. Keeping him there.

Tangerine quickens the pace, fucking into you a little better. More deliberatly. The curve of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls in the most sinful way.

He chases your release, wanting to feel you shudder and tighten around him - wanting to feel you cum on his cock. So, he parts from your lips and trails messy open kisses over your cheek, halting when he reaches under your ear. 

"You feel so perfect wrapped around me—  you're so perfect," he hazily whispers, talking low. "God— yeah, that's it," he nods slowly, encouraging you. "You're right there, pretty girl. I can feel it."

With his soft praise, you find yourself gripping onto his dick, tightly clamping around him as you cum. Moaning sweet cries senselessly into the crook of his neck.

Your release triggers his own, pumping his thick, warm load onto your stomach, biting back broken groans as he milks the rest of his cum onto your jittering tummy. 

He leans back over you once more, placing a lingering kiss on your lips before pushing himself off the bed, heading for the bathroom.

Returning with a lusty smile and a wet washcloth, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you, gently wiping it over your stomach before doing the same with his cock, rubbing the fabric over his leaking, messy tip.

"We should've done that years ago," you whisper, flattening your tee down your stomach.

"Fuckin' years ago," he coyly grins, raking back his now-dried curls.

Your smile widens, meeting his eyes. "You, uh... you can stay over? If you want... so you— you can watch tv?" you offer, trying to persuade him - finding a reason for him to stay.

"For the tv," he chuckles, nodding. Playing along

He slips into the bed beside you, tugging the covers up and settling himself next to you. His large, warm arms find you under the sheets, holding you to his side.

"We got an early start. Get some sleep, love," he whispers, placing a delicate kiss on your temple. "Goodnight."

[suddencolds]

Atypical Occurrence [1/?]

Happy birthday to my dear friend, @caughtintherain!! I wanted to give you some Vincent suffering to chew on for the occasion, so please take this fic (or, first part of a fic) as a gift <3

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I’ve written for these two! chronologically, this fic takes place a month or so after the last installment leaves off :)

Summary: Vincent shows up late to a meeting. It just goes downhill from there. (ft. fake dating, the flu, a house visit)

—

Vincent is late.

Yves tries not to stare at the empty seat across from him. The meeting—their first meeting of the day—started five minutes ago. If there’s anything Yves knows, it’s that Vincent always comes in early. 

In stumbles Cara, handling a morning coffee with probably more espresso shots than anyone should have at 8am. Then Laurent, briefcase in one hand, paging through a folder of files in his other. Then Angelie, Isaac, Garrett, Ray, Sienna. Then they get started, and Yves turns his attention towards the graphs projected onscreen at the front of the room, and tries very hard not to think about Vincent.

It’s five minutes later that the door swings open, near-silent.

Sienna—who’s presenting—stops, for a moment, to look back at Vincent from where he’s standing in the doorway, which means that of course, everyone looks.

Cara turns around in her seat, raising an eyebrow. Angelie frowns at him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Vincent says, quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

Isaac shrugs. Angelie looks a little concerned, but she turns back to her work, anyways. Sienna resumes her presentation. All in all, it’s nothing—or it should be nothing. Probably traffic, on the way here; a particularly unlucky commute. An unlikely occurrence, but—to anyone else—not anything worth dwelling over.

It might be a sufficient explanation, if Yves didn’t know better.

Vincent takes care to close the door quietly behind him, then heads over to the only open seat, across from Yves. He unzips his briefcase, quietly, unobtrusively, and takes out his laptop. Yves tries to focus on what Sienna is saying—she’s giving a review of a client’s current investment strategies; he’d reviewed her work on this just a couple days ago.

Vincent asks good questions throughout—he always has a good sense of what areas still lack clarity, Yves has found. Today is no exception. He takes part in the meeting with such calculated precision that Yves almost misses it.

Almost misses: the slight stiffness to his shoulders, as if it’s taking more than the usual amount of effort to keep himself upright. The way in which he clears his throat before speaking, like it might actually hurt. The way he rests his head on one hand, halfway into the meeting—as if even now, barely forty minutes into the workday, he’s already exhausted.

It’s subtle enough to go unnoticed, subtle enough that Yves wonders if he’s just reading too much into it—if, perhaps, Vincent is fine, after all.

—

He doesn’t see Vincent again until lunch.

Or, more accurately, he doesn’t see Vincent again until he’s headed down for lunch with Cara and Laurent. Vincent is already on his way out of the cafeteria, a takeout container in hand.

“You’re not going to eat here?” Yves asks.

Vincent doesn’t look at him. “I have some work to get done at my desk,” he says. He clears his throat again, like it’s irritating him.

“Okay,” Yves says. Vincent turns to leave, and Yves thinks of a hundred ways in which he could possibly prolong this conversation, and then decides against it. Vincent is already so busy.

“You look tired,” he settles on, instead.

He expects Vincent to dismiss this, to reassure him that it isn’t true. But Vincent looks up at him at last, blinking, as if he’s surprised that Yves noticed at all. His eyes are a little dark-rimmed underneath his glasses.

He doesn’t deny it, which is as much of a confirmation as Yves needs.

“The sooner I can get this work done, the sooner I can go home,” he says. Yves supposes he can’t argue with that.

“I guess I’ll see you around, then,” Yves says, even though he wants to say more, even though he feels like there’s more that he should be saying. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent nods, at this, and resumes walking.

—

Yves is probably overthinking it. There isn’t anything concrete, really, to justify his concern.

Vincent’s lateness to the meeting could just as easily be the consequence of an alarm he’d forgotten to set, his exhaustion just as easily a side effect—of recent late nights in the office, of arbitrary changes to the projects he’s on, of last-minute demands from clients.

The next time he sees Vincent is at the end of the work day. Yves always takes the elevators on the north end of the building—they’re ones that lead directly out into the parking garage. When he gets out to the hallway, Vincent is already standing there, waiting for the elevator.

Yves watches Vincent stiffen, slightly. Watches him raise one hand up to his face to shudder into it with a harsh, “HHihH’iKKTSh-hUH!”

A thin tremor runs through the line of his shoulders, as if he’s too cold, even though the office air conditioning is no colder than usual. His hand, cupped to his face, remains there for a moment more before he lowers it.

He sniffles, then, rummaging through his pocket for—something. When he doesn’t find it, he just frowns a little, sniffling again. 

“Bless you,” Yves says.

“Yves,” Vincent says, his shoulders stiffening a little. He clears his throat, turning around so that he can address Yves properly.

It’s only a few seconds later that he’s turning sharply away, tenting both hands over his nose and mouth for—

“Hh-! hHiH—HIHh’DZSSschh-uhh! snf-!”

“Bless you again.” 

Vincent sighs. “Don’t bother.” He really looks exhausted, Yves realizes. During their brief interaction at lunch, he’d already sensed as much, but the harsh white glare of the bright corporate lighting only makes it more evident.

Vincent looks a little paler than usual, if only slightly, and there’s a slight flush that spreads itself over his cheekbones. He looks—well, nearly as put together as always, distilled only by the slight crookedness of his tie, as if it’s been on too tight; the near-invisible sheen of sweat over his forehead. The slight redness to the bridge of his nose, the slight shiver to his hand as he reaches up to adjust his collar.

Yves frowns, taking this all in. “You look kind of…”

“Terrible?” Vincent finishes for him.

Yves winces. “...Well, terrible is a strong word. I was going to say, you look like you could use some sleep.”

“I’m… feeling a little off,” Vincent says, staring straight ahead, as if it’s not an admission at all. But Yves suspects, from the way he avoids eye contact, that perhaps it was something he was intending on keeping private. “You should keep your distance.”

The elevator dings. The sliding doors part, and he steps inside. 

“First floor?” Yves asks, hesitating next to the panel of buttons.

“Yes,” Vincent says. Then, quietly: “Thanks.”

“You know, now that busy season is over, the world is not going to end if you take a sick day,” Yves tells him. “Even if you do like, twice the amount of work as everyone else on the team, if you needed to call out, I’m sure something could be arranged.”

Vincent smiles at him, a little wryly. “I must look pretty bad if you’re saying this to me.”

“Yes, I was lying,” Yves says. “Clearly, you look terrible.”

It isn’t true at all—even here, even like this, Vincent doesn’t look terrible, not even in the least. But Vincent still smiles, at this—a tired smile.

The elevator doors slide open.

“Text me if you need anything,” Yves says, impulsively. “Seriously. Tissues, soup, medicine—whatever. It’s not far of a drive.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Vincent says. “I will see you tomorrow.” And then he steps out of the elevator, and Yves is left with an inexplicable sinking feeling in his stomach. As far as he knows, it has no place there. Obviously, Vincent can take care of himself. Obviously, Vincent can handle a cold. Yves has nothing to be concerned about.

—

The next day is rainy—a constant, torrential downpour, which makes his commute to work take almost twice as long as it usually does. It wouldn’t be spring here, Yves supposes, without dreary weather like this.

Back in uni, when he rowed crew, they’d practice out for hours out in the rain. Now that he spends the majority of his day inside, he supposes he can’t complain. The shelter of the office building is a reprieve.

Vincent doesn’t show up.

“I think he’s out sick,” Cara says, when Yves asks. “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think I’ve actually seen him take a sick day before.”

“For how hard he works, he definitely deserves one,” Garrett says.

“He seemed fine yesterday, when I saw him,” Cara says, with a shrug. “Probably came on quickly.” Yves nods.

But that isn’t quite right, is it? Vincent hadn’t seemed fine, had he? Yves thinks back to the things he’d noticed—Vincent, uncharacteristically exhausted during the meeting, though it was clear he’d been just as engaged as usual. Vincent, shivering in the elevator, telling Yves to keep his distance. How poorly had he been feeling already, yesterday? How poorly does he have to be feeling today to have called off of work for it?

He finds some time just before lunch to text.

Y: how are you holding up? Y: yesterday’s offer stands if you need me to bring you anything!

He doesn’t get a response from Vincent, which is a little concerning. He checks his phone halfway through lunch, and then twice more, in between his afternoon meetings, just in case he’s missed a notification.

“Are you expecting a text from someone?” Cara says, looking a little curious.

“Just a friend,” Yves says, which is and isn’t true.

To make a point—to Cara, and possibly to himself—he shuts his phone off. He very pointedly does not look at it again for the remainder of the hour.

It’s not until mid-afternoon that he finally gets a response.

V: Sorry to get back to you so late.

Yves sits upright, fumbling with his phone to get it unlocked. The text bubble pops up again, somewhat intermittently, to show that Vincent is typing.

V: If it’s not too much trouble, there’s a blue folder on my desk labeled 2-A.

Yves blinks at this, a little disbelieving.

Y: you’re asking me to bring you work files? Y: arent you supposed to be resting 🤨 Y: paid sick leave, remember? as in, leave your work at work??

V: I meant to pack them yesterday.

Y: that’s like a genie grants you 3 wishes and you ask for an extra day of assignments Y: terrible waste of a wish if you ask me

V: As a genie, you’re quite judgmental

Y: ok ok Y: as your loyal lamp dweller i’ll be over around 8pm with folder 2-A  Y: you need anything else? 

V: Nothing else V: You can just leave them outside my door 

A beat. Then Vincent sends:

V: Sorry to trouble you

Yves thinks of twenty responses he wants to send to that text. Then, thinking better of himself, he shuts his phone off and gets back to work.

—

It’s a little past seven when he finally checks out of the office.

Outside, the rain hasn’t even begun to let up—it falls, straight and heavy, in large, globular droplets. The streets gleam with water. Yves leaves his umbrella in the trunk, tunes out everything but the static of the rainfall, and drives.

Yves has only ever been to Vincent’s apartment once—to pick him up for the New Years’ party Margot hosted—and even then, Vincent had met him at the door. But he recognizes the unit, nonetheless.

For a moment, he considers leaving the folder of files outside of Vincent’s door and taking his leave.

But it’s windy, and he’s afraid the papers might fly away, torn up by the biting wind, and get lost face down in a puddle somewhere, which would defeat the purpose of him coming here in the first place, and would probably also breach some employee confidentiality policy. So instead, he knocks.

It’s silent for a moment. Rain beats down on the slanted rooftops, a constant thrum. 

Yves is about to reach out to knock again, when the door swings open.

There stands Vincent, in a pale blue hoodie and loose-fitting pajama pants, with neat rectangular cuffs.

He looks tired. It’s the first thing Yves registers—the unusual fatigue to his expression, which he can’t quite seem to blink away; the flush high on his cheekbones. The way he holds himself, his shoulders stiff, carefully, defensively; as if despite his exhaustion, there’s a part of him which wishes to appear presentable still.

It’s only a moment later that he’s taking a halting step back, ducking into a hoodie sleeve. Yves catches the shiver of his expression, his eyebrows pulling together, before it crumples, and his head jerks forward with a harsh—

“hHihh’GKkTT—! Hh-!! iHH-’DZZSCHh-uuUh!”

The second sneeze sounds louder and harsher than usual, even muffled into the fabric of his sleeve. It betrays his congestion all at once. 

“Bless you,” Yves says.

Vincent emerges, sniffling a little. When he speaks, he sounds a little hoarser than he did yesterday. “I thought I said you - snf-! - could leave them on the front step.”

“You did,” Yves says, glancing down at the folder in his hands. “But it’s windy, and it’s raining. I figured you’d prefer to have your files intact. How are you feeling?”

Vincent blinks at him. He’s leaning heavily against the doorframe, Yves realizes, one hand gripped tightly around the frame, his knuckles white from the pressure, as if it would take him too much effort to stay upright otherwise. 

“Alright,” he answers. “Thanks for making the trip here. I… it must’ve taken longer, in the rain.” He squeezes his eyes shut, as if his head hurts, as if the light coming from outside is exacerbating his headache. “If you ever need me to pick something up for you, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Yves says. Despite himself, he reaches up to press his hand against Vincent’s forehead.

The heat under his fingertips is alarming, to say the least. Yves blinks, lowering his hand, and tries to keep the worry out of his voice. “Have you taken your temperature?”

Vincent shakes his head. “I don’t think I have a thermometer.”

“Have you eaten, then?”

Vincent averts his glance, looking sheepish. “I… was planning to stop for groceries, yesterday,” he says. Planning to.

Yves thinks back to the elevator ride yesterday. Vincent had probably already been feeling very unwell, then. And yet, he’d talked with Yves as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I’m feeling a little off, he’d said, as if anything about his current affliction could possibly be characterized as “little.” I will see you tomorrow—as if he had really, genuinely been intending on showing up at work. 

“So I take it that there’s nothing in the fridge, either,” Yves says.

“If it’s any consolation, you’ll be pleased to know that I slept,” Vincent says, in lieu of answering.

Then he shivers—the sort of concerning, full-body shiver that is a little concerning, coming from someone who is usually unaffected by the cold—and Yves is immediately reminded that the door they’re speaking through is open.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Vincent says, before his expression scrunches up, and he’s ducking away with a— “hh—! hHih-II—TSSCHHh-UH! snf-!”, smothered hurriedly into the palm of his hand. He sniffles, emerging with a slight wince. “This came on pretty quickly. It might be the flu.”

“It’s fine,” Yves says. “I got my flu shot in the winter. And anyways, I’ll be careful.”

Vincent is quiet, for a moment. Then, frowning, he says, “I’d feel terrible if you caught this.”

That’s the least of Yves’s worries—he doubts he’s going to catch this. Even if he does, it will just mean a few days off of work. Not the end of the world, by any means. Nothing to warrant the expression on Vincent’s face—Vincent looks upset, as if he’ll really can’t think of anything worse than Yves catching this. Like even the thought of it is worth being upset over.

Yves shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, seriously.” He pushes past Vincent to step inside and shuts the door behind him. “Here, I’ll set these down on your desk. Where is it?”

“Down the hallway, to the left,” Vincent says.

Yves takes the folder, leaves his shoes at the door, and heads inside. 

Vincent’s bedroom is small and organized—it’s the kind of bedroom that’s tastefully minimal, in the sort of unified manner that implies that everything in it has been carefully arranged. There’s a small white desk in the corner, a stack of files arranged neatly next to Vincent’s laptop, its lid halfway to shut. There’s a bookshelf, leaned up against the wall far; the bottom shelf looks to be filled with textbooks; the top shelf lined with books, both in Korean and in English. The walls are painted slate gray, the carpets lining the floorboards picked out to match, and there are pale blue curtains hanging from the windows, pulled tightly shut.

There are signs here, too, of his illness, but they are subtle. A tissue box, nestled between his pillow and the headboard, half empty. A waste bin at the foot of the bed, conveniently in reach. A small bottle of aspirin on the bedside counter; an empty packet of cough drops sitting at the edge of his nightstand.

Yves sets the folder at the end of Vincent’s desk, next to the rest of his files, and turns to face him.

“You’re not going to work on these until you’re feeling better, right?” he asks.

“Only if I can’t sleep,” Vincent says, which Yves supposes is a satisfactory answer. Then he twists away, his eyebrows furrowing, lifting a loosely clenched fist to his face to cough, and cough. 

The cough is harsh and grating—his entire frame shudders with the force of it, his breaths shallow and raspy. He really sounds awful. This must have come on quickly, Yves thinks.

If it’s upsetting, seeing Vincent like this, it’s even worse to be standing here, in his room, doing nothing. So—if only to make himself useful, if only to convince himself that there’s something he can do—Yves ducks out into the kitchen.

The pantry is meticulously organized—glasses lined up in neat rows; stacks of bowls sorted by size. He fills a glass with water, shuts the cabinets, and takes it back to the bedroom. 

By the time he gets back, Vincent is sitting at the edge of his bed. His glasses are folded neatly, left at the very edge of the countertop.

“Here,” Yves says, crossing the room, holding out the glass for him to take. 

“Thanks,” Vincent says, taking it gingerly from him. He takes a small, tentative sip, and then another—his hands are a little shaky, Yves notices. “You - snf-! - should really go.”

“I’m not entirely convinced you’ll be fine on your own,” Yves says.

“Of course I will be,” Vincent says, with all of his usual certainty. He lays down, pulling the covers over his body. “I have been fine on my own for years.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, Yves supposes. But he doesn’t feel reassured in the least.

“Thank you again for bringing me the files,” Vincent says, at last, shutting his eyes.

“You could’ve asked me to get you groceries,” Yves says. “There’s a supermarket not far from here, right? And you’re out of cough drops.” He takes a few steps over, towards the desk in the corner of the room. “These—” He examines the bottle of ibuprofen on the table. “—are expired.”

“Just because you’ve extended this kindness to me,” Vincent tells him, “doesn’t mean I should take advantage of it.”

Yves blinks, a little taken aback. “It’s only groceries. I wouldn’t have minded, really.”

“See,” Vincent says, with a note of—something in his voice. It sounds a bit like resignation. “That’s just the kind of person you are.”

Yves doesn’t know what to say, to that. 

Before he can think up a fitting response, Vincent’s breathing evens out. Yves lets himself listen to the shallow, steady cadence of it. Lets himself acknowledge the heavy, painful feeling in his chest for just a moment. Then he shuts the lights off and heads back out into the hallway.

[sadie-bug345]

I love your headcanons! They’re so goofy but character accurate. Anyway I was wondering if you’d maybe do all the greasers + Cherry with a trad goth/alt s/o hcs? Thank you so much!!! 🖤🖤🖤

omg hiiii and your wish is my command‼️🥰

the greasers (+cherry baby) w trad goth / alt s/o!!

ponyboy: - the second you moved into town he was like obsessed - just cause your vibe wasn’t like anyone else’s he’d really met - so he worked up the nerve to talk to you thinking you’d like shun him (bro was fr going thru ALL the possible rejection that could happen😭) - he was like “…hi🖐️😀” and just stood there sweatin up a storm LMAO - and you’re just like “hello?🧍‍♀️” - LOVE CONNECTION INSTANT - yall are the sweetest together and pony’s wardrobe changes a little so it’s more like yours - just cause he loves the way it looks on you sm.

johnny: - your vibe fits his (and dally’s but that’s later🤫) really well - so when he first saw you his exact thoughts were like “man. she’s cool” - so my guy went thru all of ponyboys yearbooks like just trying to find out anything and everything abt you - clubs, sports, music, voted most likely to’s…you name it johnny found it cause he was too scared to approach you at first - pony walked in on him scavenging last years yearbook and was like 😐 this has gotta end my boy - so after some aggressive encouragement from dally, johnny approached you and you guys really hit it off - you guys are like the gangs power couple FOR SURE - everyone loves your style and vibe but johnny especially, duh!

sodapop: - this is definitely an opposites attract sitch - like johnny he saw you and was like “i gotta find out more” cause he had never dated anyone like you before - he probably went up to talk to you and accidentally spilled about how he knew you were in middle school band and played the clarinet but switched to the flute halfway thru seventh grade or smth😭😭🫶 - yall definitely turn heads when you guys are hanging out together - no one can deny the cuteness😔🖐️

darry: -my guy is a little more conservative when it comes to style - we know he be dressing like a divorced dad out here - BUT he noticed you around town and was def intrigued - totally starts listening to the music you like just to have a conversation starter - this boy PLANS - after a while of you guys dating you give him a lil makeover and it’s very sweet (especially cause he needed the wardrobe refresh🫢)

dally: - your vibe and his is super similar, or at least he thinks he’s as effortlessly cool as you🙄 - anyways he was fr like “now this is the kinda person i wanna know” - didn’t need any encouragement to go talk to you *cough* johnny *cough* - either way he tried to start up a convo all “smooth” or whatever and you’re just like “😳uhm anyways…” - kinda gave him the humbling he needs but you thought his unrealized awkwardness was cute - you guys are birds of a feather but he definitely loves showing you off to his friends - just cause he thinks you’re like, actually the coolest - he won’t tell you how he feels but it’s obvious.

two-bit: - this guy is so goofy - sees you from across the room and starts cracking the LOUDEST and DUMBEST jokes just to see you hopefully smile - and he’s funny so you’re like halfway cringing but also halfway dying laughing - you’re probably like “who even is this kid💀” LMAO - anyways after he saw you laugh my dude just talks your ear off - after you get a few words in about your interests and general style bro was so obsessed - he didn’t really think he’d like a girl with your style but he was wronggg - you guys have probably the most fun together out of the group ngl.

steve: - probably heard abt you from soda - LIVES for your outfits like he’s so obsessed he’s like “hmm i wonder what they’re gonna wear today” - just cause he thinks you’re so cool and unique - definitely frequents the places you usually hang out just in the hopes of “casually” running into you LMAO - you guys are super cute though like no one really expected it - which makes it so much better.

cherry: - being a cheerleader she doesn’t usually date people with your style - her exes just are kinda basic - BUT she saw you and was like “oh. so i’m like in love” - HOPELESS ROMANTIC CHERRY🫶😭 - it was like a rom com she like did an actual double take - after you guys start dating you two do everything together - you give her makeovers like all the time - it’s so sweeeeet - plus you kinda revamp her wardrobe - dw she still has THE cherry valance vibe - but she matches your outfits in the little details - matching rings, necklaces, skirts, shoes, anything.

thanks so much to the wonderful person who requested this!! my requests are always open!🧌🥰🫶

[callofdudes]

I know you have a temporary writers block at the moment but I wanted to leave this here.

I thought about could you do the alone mission form mw2 but add a y/n point of view as well

Platonic please

I'm slowly making my way through my inbox and trying to get everything out. But I have been working on this for a hot minute @itsscromp 🫡

A/N: This will replay the Alone mission from your perspective. I have included a majority of Soap and Ghost' s dialogue, some being repurposed and such. The mission won't be 100% accurate as some details I'm foggy on, but please enjoy regardless. And spoilers for the Alone mission I guess??

This is so long... Oh my gosh.

Just over 10K words, so buckle up.

CW: Blood, violence, heavy swearing, near death, still calling you Cobra 🐍

Everything was a blur. Your adrenaline spikes, and you remember your body being thrown from the moving truck. Graves curses angrily when you slam the door open and tumble out. Your body slams against the asphalt. Pain spreads through your limbs as you tumble and roll down into the ditch.

You roll over twigs and branches that scrape and drag across your skin. Your body crashes into a tree in the dirt, leaving you shaking.

You pant. You hear the truck stop along the road. You force your breath in and lay as still in the slick mud as possible.

You pray that you won't be found.

Graves starts yelling and cussing.

"Why weren't you watching them!?"

"Let them go! They won't make it out alive on their own anyway." He orders his men back in the car, and the tires pick up back across the road.

You wheeze. Alejandro. They still had Alejandro.

Your lungs compress and ignite like flames, each breath hard and forced.

You pick up your aching body and crawl out of the ditch. Your wrists ache, still zip tied together. You reach up and press your comm. "Soap?? Ghost?? Can either of you hear me??" You wheeze and coughed.

The commlink crackles and your spirits rise.

"Cobra! This is Soap, how copy?"

Relief floods your body. "Stable. Currently crawling in a ditch down the road-" You cough. "Where's your location?"

"A town just a couple miles from here. Meet me there."

You struggle with the your sore hands. "Copy that."

You stand yourself up on your knees and rise to your feet. The rain chills your body, the moonlight being your only guide. Your vision blurs momentarily, blood rushing through your ears. You shake your head quickly and stagger forward.

You walk back up the road to the shootout and look down into the brush. That must have been where Johnny went. You hop down and trek the sticky mud. All the while struggling with your knife. You needed to get this stupid zip tie off but it was proving a bit more difficult in your shaky form.

About halfway through the walk your commlink crackles again.

"Sergeant how copy?" The voice is deeper and makes your insides loosen with reassurance.

"Ghost! I'm headed for Soap."

"Alright sergeant. That town is crawling with shadows. Soap is hidden inside one of the first shops you'll see, to your left. go straight there."

"Copy that."

You slid down a slope and came upon the darkened town. Definitely abandoned and silent. Everyone must be in hiding.

You notice the first building had a faint light on and a sign above the door. You look both ways before making a break for it. You struggle with the wet door handle. It jiggles and pulls but you can't quite grab it.

"Soap- it's me!" You attempt to whisper yell through the door.

The door is pushed open and Soap rushes out, his gun knocking against your jugular. "Easy- easy-"

Johnny looks both ways before pulling you back inside. "Hells bells you scared me!" He scolds.

"Apologies. I couldn't get the door open." You raise your hands to show him your predicament. "That's alright." Johnny pulls out his knife and slices it down between your wrists and snaps the zip tie.

"I thought Graves got you? I was worried."

"I jumped from the truck."

Johnny opens his arms and pulls you in tightly. "You crazy bastard."

You chuckle. And then you notice his arm. "Soap, are you ok?"

Johnny hums. "Oh! That, yeah, just a bullet wound. I'm fine. I'm more worried about you. Just look at yer self."

Johnny grabs a lamp and points it across your body. In the darkness you could feel the damage but were unsure of what damage that was. Your pants are tearing at the knees and blood is starting to stain deep through your pant leg. Your arms are clearly going to bruise and you are starting to shake more violently.

"If you need a stim I'm sure we can find one."

You shudder and shake your head. "No, I'll be fine. I just want to get us in and out."

"Luckily Ghost will help. Not like he didn't leave us- I still don't know how he got to the church in the half the time I did."

You shrug. "He IS the Ghost."

Johnny nods. "Speaking of..." *He presses down his comm. "Ghost. Cobra has reached my position. Awaiting further instructions."

You wring out your wrists anxiously.

"Shadows are swarming the grounds. Our best option is to split up."

"Split us up!? What-" Johnny claps his hand over your mouth. You grab his forearm and quickly shut up. Johnny releases you after a moment and consults his comms. "Lt, is splitting us up the best idea?"

"Two soldiers together are more noticable than one."

"Are you injured?" Ghost asks again, referring to you. You huff, "I'm not a medic."

"Tell me something I don't know."

You look at Johnny who chews on Ghost's words for a moment. "You ok to go on your own?"

"Anything to get out alive." You reply.

Johnny clicks his comm again. "Alright Lt. What do we do?"

"Keep your blood in, you'll need every drop."

"Thanks for the tip. Where are you?" Johnny asks.

"There's a church. I'm heading to it. Let's RV there. You'll need to improvise to survive."

"Get Cobra suited up. No doubt Graves confiscated your weapons?" Ghost questions.

You search your person, only finding your Glock at the front of your armor. "Stripped."

"I ain't got much to work with here either Lt."

"Just get out there and worry about not getting killed then. You know protocol."

Johnny looks up at you and nods. "See you on the other side?"

"You'd be stupid to think I'm going anywhere."

You two shake on it. Johnny checks the windows and gives you the go-ahead. You slip out the front door into the night. Watery lights drift through the rain. Old buildings cast black shadows and remains of life.

You slip around a corner, still trying to shake the impending exhaustion of your fall. You turn on your comm. and listen to the sound of Soap and Ghost's voices. Ghost was focusing on Johnny, leaving you to assume the coast was clear and keep moving. Thank goodness it was.

Usually, soldiers were mindless enough to talk to each other loud enough to hear, but risking your chances wasn't an option.

You slip into another house and sweep through the interior. The upstairs bedrooms, the kitchen, and the living room. No signs of any better gun or any ammunition.

You walk back down the stairs, your knee buckling on the last step, sending you tumbling into the wall. Your hand moves out and you manage to catch yourself before your face had a nice meeting with said wall.

You pant, your leg spasming before settling down again.

"Cobra how copy?" Ghost questions.

"Solid. Just tripped."

"Don't give away your position."

"Affirmative sir."

You pull yourself back up and step out of the house and back into the rain.

You walk up to the edge of the building, your blood freezing at the sound of a vehicle's tires against the wet pavement. You fall back, slamming against the wall in a panic to hide.

"There's a truck." Johnny says over the comm.

"Two men." He whispers moments later. You slide around the corner just enough to faintly see the men. Their voices clear as day.

"Any sign of 'em?" One of them asked, looking around.

You hide again, trying to calm your racing heartbeat and force your breathing down.

"Not yet. Check everywhere, assume they're alive and dangerous..." A second soldier replies.

"Let's hope not. That's a shitstorm we don't need." Comes the voice of the first.

"They were ordered to stand down and they didn't."

"I don't like where this is goin', man... It's not right. These are 141 guys..."

"They don't write their own rules..."

"Do we...? Who the fuck is in charge here?"

"Whoever signs our fuckin' checks, that's who." The first soldier replies again before going quiet.

You shudder out a breath, feeling your knee start to ache again. You move across the street and hide in the shadow of one of the buildings. The rain conceals your sublet movements.

"Graves is here." Johnny's voice comes. "Looks pissed. He's on my side but keep it low."

You slip into another house, stomach flipping at the sight of a woman pushed off her chair with a bullet in her head.

"Copy that." You mutter as you continue.

You searche the cupboards and stairs. More ammunition but no sign of a gun. With any luck you could take out a Shadow and steal his.

You look up at the sound of a far gunshot, sidearm at the ready.

"Graves and Shadow are on a killing spree."

You shudder. You could only imagine. You hear footsteps outside the home and voices. You duck under one of the windows and flick the blinds up just enough with your finger to see the same two Shadow soldiers passing by.

"Looking for Hassan." Ghost replies to Johnny.

"Hassan and us." You mutter. You reach for the door handle and gently open the front door. The two soldiers were still talking even as you approached their backsides.

Your heart pounds, fear drawing up through your chest and locking in your movements. You grab one man, your hand clasping over his mouth. The second soldier turning just as you shoot his partner through the back.

Before he could shoot you throw his dead partner's weight his way and shoot him in the face.

You get down in the rain, bare knees stinging on the tarmac. You rip open their vests, happy to find a much better gun at his hip and a stim in his vest.

"Fucking hell..."

"Keep in there Johnny. Just keep moving." You say, hands shaky as you use the stim.

"Advise both of you move interior if you're not already. It's good cover." Ghost says.

You stand from the shadows and work your way back over to their abandoned vehicle for cover. Over the hood of the car you can see Johnny slipping inside an open garage.

"Any luck?" You ask.

"No joy... Door's locked."

"Shit. New plan?" You slip over the hood of the car and give Johnny a thumbs up.

"Look for supplies- things you can make tools with. Welcome to guerrilla warfare..."

"I'm not liking it so far."

"You aren't supposed to."

"Thanks, lieutenant." You grumble. You turn to go around the opposite way Johnny went when you hear him shudder.

"Creepin'..."

"What are you seein'?" You ask, wondering if it was safe to move.

"A bloodbath." Johnny replies.

"Watch your arse.. You got exactly zero allies down there..."

"Cobra, get a move on. I have a feeling those Shadows around to come around again. Stick with Soap for the time being."

You slip around the hood of the truck. You run to where you'd seen Johnny and your eyes land on the sight before you, stomach churning again. Johnny is untangling a rope away from a man's feet who is already long deceased.

Johnny looks up when he sees you at six. "We're friends, no..?" You nod and come around to his side to inspect his work.

You start to look around the laundry room, looking for anything you were missing.

"Teammates Johnny. Friendships not in the field manual."

"Neither is mask making." You grin, finding an old ceiling fan and breaking off one of the blades.

Johnny couldn't help a small chuckle at your reply. He comes over to you with the rope and nods.

"Rope and a fan blade. Could work as a weapon??"

"I don't think so. Might gash someone's throat but in no way could do any other kind of damage."

You shrug. He was right.

"Tie off the blade with the rope and pry open the door." Ghost instructed.

"Sounds like you've done this before..." You hold on to the fan blade and follow Johnny back toward the garage.

"Years of practice..."

"Maybe when we get out of here you could actually teach us this stuff, no?"

"If you live that long."

"You think we'll live that long?" Johnny asks, starting to pry open the garage door.

"No." Ghost replies.

"As comforting as always lieutenant."

Johnny cracks the door open, the fan blade twists and bends, snapping once the door opens and the hinges of the lock crack.

"Busted the fan blade..." He mutters.

"Get you through the door?"

"Affirmative."

Johnny inspects the hallway and slowly moves in. You stay until he makes it inside and eventually, he motions you forward. And the two of you enter.

Johnny takes the lead ahead of you. You can't help but look at a few paintings down the hallway of a family. When you enter the living room you can hear loud voices.

Johnny arches to a stop, causing you to pause as well.

You can hear Graves yelling in the kitchen. Several Shadow men stalk around the area.

Johnny retreats from the living room and brings you back into the hallway. "We have to do something-" Johnny covers your mouth with his hand and stays in place.

You both listen to the shouting. You try to block it out. Your heart pounds away, fear making your shoulders up through your throat ice cold.

"Mama! ¡Mama! ¡Mama...!"

"Si tocas a mi familia, I will feed you to the fucking leonas! ¡Me escuchas!"

Your hand shoots up and grabs onto Johnny's bicep when you hear the gunshots. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and try to keep focused.

Johnny looks as scared as you. His bottom lip trembles violently. The Shadows leave and move to another house to raid.

"Don't hurt my children... I'm begging you... Please..." A woman begs. In the distance, you can hear more yelling and gunshots.

A tear runs down your cheek. You dig into Johnny's skin, wanting to cry and scream. If Graves did anything, you'd kill him. Right here, right now.

Johnny looks into your eyes as a deafening silence continues. A moment of what felt like hours passes.

"Take the kid, get him out of here." Graves finally answers.

It relaxes you only slightly as the voices keep up. But you can't muster to listen anymore. No amount of training could rid you of the empathy that stung you on your job every day.

Johnny slowly pulls his hand away, his breath husky. "Come on." He whispers. You nod slowly and follow him toward the kitchen. You manage to sneak past the Shadows and up the stairs.

The smell of smoke hits you, but you dare not look, knowing what you'll find

Once in the hallway, You're able to relax scarcely. You step through the hallway after Johnny.

"God, this is awful." You shudder.

"Come on. Just gotta keep moving." Johnny replies.

"Lt. You good?"

"Peachy. How are you two coming along?"

Johnny bends down and picks up a headlamp off the floor. "Found a headlamp. Not too far from the previous owner either."

"Good. It can light your way but you risk attracting attention."

Johnny steps back into the hallway and motions you to the left while he checks the last room. You walk inside, blood stains on the carpet and chaos in the wake of Shadow men.

You shudder but continue searching the room. At this point, the aching in your body is the least of your concerns.

"Just keep moving..." You remind yourself under your breath.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"Think we'll get the green light to go after these guys?" Johnny says. You can hear him rummaging around in the other room.

"No more greenlights. We're on our own."

You frown. "What about Captain Price?"

"Price isn't here, is he...? The old man can't bail us out. Not this time."

Your eyes turn despaired at one of the bodies. You don't reply, but Ghost continues to talk.

"Alejandro you can trust. But, he's in Graves' custody. If he's even alive... Laswell's close with Shepherd. Callin' her's a no-go until we learn more."

You find a few more things around the room and turn to go. "I trust the Captain - if he knew, he'd be here."

"Be careful who you trust, Sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most."

"Good advice Lt..."

"I want to be like you when I grow up."

You move back into the hallway and find Johnny also exiting back into the hallway.

"You want to be better than me, sergeant."

You couldn't help a tiny smile.

"Got our work cut out then."

"That you do..."

"Think we'll live that long?" Johnny asks.

"Probably not."

You ignore Ghost's pessimism and continue on.

Johnny nods to the last door. You slowly approach it and twist the handle. "Locked." Johnny holds up a lock-picking contraption. You move back behind him so he can bust the door open.

The lock cracks and the door is forced open.

You enter the room, stopping when you see the caged dog. He barks when he sees you, forcing a retreat.

"Fuck-"

Johnny grabs your hand and tugs you out of the room and around the corner. You can hear a Shadow soldier yelling downstairs, footsteps tromping up the stairs.

You watch the door as the Shadow walks into the room. He positions his gun and investigations the room thoroughly.

"It's the dog from the bedroom. I don't see anything. I'll stick around, just in case..."

You look at Johnny who motions you to stay.

You settle into the shadow of the upstairs. You focus on maintaining your breathing. You don't know how long you were there. Felt like a bloody long time before the Shadow soldiers decided to pack his ass up and leave.

"Did you see the caged dog?" Johnny manages to ask over the comms.

"Big geezer. If he barks, shoot him and repo quickly- Don't get compromised..." Ghost responds.

"You are stone cold, Simon."

You follow Johnny, shuddering when you pass the room with the dog.

"hey Cobra. What has two legs and bleeds?

You walk back into the hallway and one of the rooms, finding a balcony.

"Don't tell me."

"Half a dog."

"I asked you not to tell me."

Johnny approaches the balcony and sees the streets below are clear. "Think you can jump with those legs?"

"Honestly no."

Johnny nods. "I'll do my best to catch you then."

You look down over the ledge as Johnny hops up and tumbles down to the ground. You can see two Shadow men at the end of the roadway Johnny is in.

The fall was well-timed and he manages to get back up from it. He looks down the road and then up at you. He reaches his arms out, his injured one shaking more than the other.

You take a deep breath. You force your slightly less battered leg up onto the ledge. Your hands grip it tightly, fear scouring through your body.

You know Johnny is going to do his best to catch you. Even if the odds of that aren't in your favor.

You let go of the ledge and drop to the ground. Johnny grabs your underarms just before your legs wack against the ground. You have to bite your tongue to halt the slu of profanities that passes your mind.

"Sorry- that wasn't my plan." Johnny winces.

Your eyes swell with tears. "I'm fine." You wheeze.

He helps you regain your balance, but you're within seconds of collapsing. "Are we almost there?"

"Gimme a sit-rep." Ghost's voice crackles back over the comms.

"Outside... Gated alley." Johnny checks on you once last time before reaching for his gun.

"Stick to the edges and stay low."

"Copy."

You follow Johnny to the corner, wincing when your leg bends and you stumble into the wall.

"You ok?"

You nod to Johnny and urge him forward.

"What exactly do we get from this?" You wheeze again.

"You may get a brag rag for this..." Ghost replies monotonously.

"A medal?"

"Chest candy." He restates.

You scoff. "Dead Shadows are my medals."

Johnny reaches the back of the road just as the two Shadows walk off.

"Split up?"

Johnny shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you battered. You can barely walk."

"You doubt my abilities."

"I doubt your legs." He holds out his hand. "Stick with me, we get out alive. We find Ghost. Together."

You grabbed his hand and he led you forward. "Together."

"Church is on the north side of the city. I've set up a sniper position in the church tower. Find your way there, and you might just make it."

"We're on it Lt."

Johnny moves forward into the open yard. He stops by the wall of a building. You can see another group of Shadows.

"Fucking hell." You mutter.

"Graves is rounding up cops."

Johnny reaches out his arm to hold you back. Graves comes out of one of the houses, and you both watch the scene before you. You watch the Shadows murder one civilian after the other. Firing gunshot after gunshot.

"He's judge, jury, and executioner now."

Your hands quiver and pulse across your gun.

You look down and find a bottle in the street. "Johnny." You whisper and hold it up for him to see.

"A bottle. Good for a distraction. Could prove useful."

You continue to search around for a moment until Johnny hums. "Got it."

"Commandeered some wax, LT."

"Could prove useful..." Ghost reiterates.

You make eye contact again and you nod. You were ready.

Johnny looks and motions toward the water fountain in the middle of the street.

You slip out from the corner. You can't help but try and rush when you hear Graves yelling, followed by another gunshot.

And another.

You skid to a stop at the fountain and duck down behind it. You clutch your gun tightly and motion Johnny over. He comes around the corner and rushes across the open street.

He ducks down next to you and looks around. Two soldiers were standing by the perimeter of the street.

You try to still your breathing and keep Johnny from moving forward when you hear them talking.

"I got too much respect for these guys to go to guns unless they do." The first one says, his back turned toward you two.

"I bet we'd come out on top of that fight." The second one snarks.

"I don't wanna test my skills against 141."

"What are you thinkin'?"

"We should white flag this thing and talk or everyone's gonna end up dead."

"You gettin' scared, dude?"

" I'm not fuckin' scared, bro. I'm not stupid either. Any movement over there? It's quiet here... Narcos got outta Dodge. It's not them I'm worried about anyway..."

"I thought you said you're not scared."

"I'm worried, worried is different than scared..."

Johnny taps your arm and motions to a nearby crate. "Stay here."

You nod and continue to hold your position as he sneaks out just enough to reach the box.

"Same fuckin' thing..." The second Shadow replies when you turn your attention back on the conversation.

"No, it's not, it's not the same thing at all..."

"I'm telling you right now, don't let these guys get in your head..."

"So, you're tellin' me you see that big boy with the skullface, and you're not gonna start sweatin'?" The first Shadow sasses.

"I'm not gonna see him--"

"You're right, you won't see him. It's too late if you see him, you're fuckin' dead already."

You chuckle. "I think they're scared of you, Ghost." You whisper into your comm.

The radio crackles, but Ghost doesn't reply.

Johnny returns to your position and smiles. "Found a mouse trap."

"And this is good news because..?"

"Surpisingly useful as a trigger."

You look from the mousetrap to the bottle and start to catch on to his plan.

"It's no airstrike, but it'll do." He smirks.

"You both are doing good. Just keep moving. The longer you sit there the more chances you have of being killed."

You looked at Johnny. "Copy that Lt." You huff.

You looked into Johnny's eyes, and he can tell you are starting to give out. Your energy is fading, and you kind of liked the sound of staying there.

Johnny takes your hand and clutches it tightly. "Stay with me, soldier. Come on. Only a little longer and we can rest."

"Johnny I'm tired."

"I know, I'm going to get us out of here-" Johnny presses down on his comm. "Ghost, Cobra is fading, we need your oversight."

"I've got you Johnny. You're clear."

"Y/n."

Your ears ring when he says your name. You groan, trying to keep quiet.

"Y/n, you need to keep walking. Just keep walking, I'll get you both out of here, can you do that for me?"

Tears filled your eyes. "Yes sir."

"Good. I've got your backs, Johnny, use what you've found to conjure a distraction."

"I'm already on it Lt."

Johnny readjusts the bottle and throws it at the Shadows blocking your path. You scuff your boots and shove them under you to swing upward.

The Shadows look up, rushing to check the sound of the bottle smashing against the brick wall.

Johnny pulls your arms, and you both sneak down the overshadowed alleyway.

Your vision swims and goes fuzzy again. Your hand unclasps from Johnny's, and his silhouette fades into the darkness. You slump back to your knees, resting against the side of the building.

"Lieutenant..." Your thumb quivers, unable to keep the comm open to talk.

"I'm right here sergeant. You'll be ok, keep moving. I know you can do it."

"Tired..."

"Where is Johnny?"

You look up. You try to clear your head. Your insides swim with bile, and it makes the hooks of your jaw fuzzy. Your throat forces down saliva you don't want to swallow.

The shadows move, and there is Johnny. He rushes back over to you and crouches. "We've gotta go come on."

You grab onto him, unsure of where your feet are going, but you stand during the process.

Johnny guides you. His eyes soften again, and he slows down so you can slouch against him to take away some of the pain from your ankles.

"We're so close." He says.

You shake your head of the dizzy feeling and muster yourself up.

Johnny brings you to the end of the street and lays you up against the wall. You draw your gun into your lap and watch Johnny hunt the street for material.

"Found some chemicals." He says into his comm.

"Tie them up with some wax and you got a smoke bomb. A toxic distraction."

"Sick... I like it."

"Guarantee you they won't..."

"How is Cobra doing?" Ghost asks a minute later.

"Solid. Hanging on."

Johnny finds a roll of tape just a bit further from the chemicals. "I can use that later." You watch Johnny as he starts to make an explosive contraption.

You rise to your feet. Your knees shake but you manage to keep yourself up. You come to Johnny's back and could see he was making a bomb of sorts.

Eventually, he tucks it into his bag. He motions across the street and you follow him into another house. When entering you see a Shadow slammed up against the wall of the room, dead.

"Woah."

Johnny comes over and examines the knife stuck in his throat. "Looks like Ghost's handiwork." You mutter. "Missing a knife Lt?"

"Several."

"Think we found one."

"Some of the dead Shadows are my handiwork..."

"You came through here?" You ask.

"On my way to the church."

"And you left us?" You frown.

"I'm used to working alone."

"So much for no man left behind." Johnny grumbles.

You pull the knife from the Shadows' throat and clean the blood on your vest pocket. You can probably use it for something. Might as well return them to him.

"Just get yourself to the church. Tryin' to keep you alive and get you here in one piece. One of us needs to survive to tell the tale."

"It'll probably be you." You reply.

Johnny motions you forward and the two of you search the house. Everything is in shambles, barely put together, and a mess in every sense.

Johnny moves into the living room and chuckles. "Seek and ye shall find..."

"Whatcha got?" You perk up curiously and walk over to him where he was currently strapping a briefcase to his person.

"Black powder..."

"Nice. This could get interesting..."

Johnny nods and the two of you set off. Johnny moves up the stairway while you search the kitchen. Under the cupboard there are a few chemicals you see fit to take with you.

"So..." You open your comm.

"What if we don't get out?"

Ghost hums. "If you mean all three of us die. We die. Price has to learn of this himself, three of his best soldiers dead and barely a task force left. You know. No pressure or anything."

"And what if you get out alive?"

"Then I'm going for safety, regrouping with Price. Then I'm finding Alejandro and Graves."

"Good plan."

"If you want to be in on it you might want to keep moving sergeant."

"Copy that Lt."

Johnny tromps back down the stairs and shakes his head. Nothing much.

"Lt, about to play rough with the Shadows..." You slip toward the back door, hands shaking and rough.

"I like the sound 'o that." Ghost replies.

"Fashioned a trip mine..." Johnny adds.

"A man after my own heart..."

"That's a scary thought." You mutter.

"You learn fast, Y/n."

You slip the back door open and find a lone Shadow standing guard. From your vest pocket, you pull out Ghost's knife and grip it in your hand.

Johnny nods, and you slip forward. You buckle your hand over the Shadow's mouth and drive the knife up into his back. His body strangles and freezes before going limp and falling to the ground.

"That knife came in handy."

"You're welcome."

"I ain't thanking you lieutenant." You chuckle and slip the blade back into your vest.

You search the Shadow's vest and are lucky enough to find a pistol. "Found a gun."

"Good work. Moving up in the world. Choose your shots and targets wisely. Guns make noise."

"Copy Lt."

Johnny stares down at the dead Shadow a moment longer. You hear a noise down the road and your eyes shoot up as another Shadow walks your way.

"Fuck, come on MacTavish." You grab his hand and pull him out of the street and around the corner. You make ten paces before you're stopping again, faced with another group of conversing Shadows.

"I wanna find those English motherfuckers. That asshole with the mask and the other leprechaun." The first one says.

"Leprechaun's-they're Irish, I told you that." The second one responds.

"Right. One o' those dudes with the skirts."

"It's called a kilt."

"It's a dude in a dress, that's all I know..."

"Uh huh. What about the third one? Smart ass little sergeant got away."

"They're 141, what do you expect? Wimps?"

"Just want to get my hands on that one. Slimy as a frog. An agile thing."

Johnny scoffs. He prepares his bomb from behind you and doesn't waste his time throwing it in their direction. "Lot o' slime." He mutters.

The smoke bomb hits the ground and alerts the Shadows. Before you know it Johnny is taking off toward one of the alleys.

"Fuck-"

Gunfire rains down on you, forcing you from your position. The gunfire strays you out into the street and down a separate roadway. You slam yourself around the corner and down against the wall. You clench your teeth, fresh blood trickling down your arm.

Your left hand is shaking violently, unable to hold your weapons.

You slouch against the wall, breathing ragged and body gushing blood.

"Cobra!? What's your position!" Johnny finally asks worriedly through the comms. You huff, raising your hand to respond. "Solid... But hit."

"Shit. My bad." Johnny apologizes.

"All good." You reply.

You slowly stand, pressing your weight into the wall until you manage to recover yourself.

"Feeling weak, are you?"

"bit shaky, sir, yeah." You roll your neck, pain shooting up your spine.

"Graves tried to kill us. Would stand to reason if you were a little off. Find a stim- It'll give you a boost"

"I just want out of this alive."

"We'll get you out alive then."

"So you do like me?"

"I like you both alive."

"Fair enough."

You traverse through the roadway and sidetrack into a garage linked to a building.

"Found a stim." Johnny says over comm.

"Use it. I'm out of luck." You push your way through the door, hissing at the use of your hurt arm.

"Elbow is going numb."

"Find a stim."

"I'm trying to find anything I can." You reply.

Johnny and Ghost maintain contact while you slip through the house and scavenge for anything you can take to keep the Shadows off you.

You find only one speckle of useful items like chemicals, which are more useful in Johnny's hands.

"Y/n.. Graves is burning the midnight oil to find us... Why...?" Ghost asks.

You frown. "He's involved. Both Sheppard and Graves are involved."

"No matter what- this is an unprecedented amount of fuckery. We need to get to the bottom of it." Johnny adds.

"Accurate and deadly fire tends to resolve these things. Right now, we're not safe here."

"Right now... we're not safe anywhere, Lt." You break into another room, combing through as you go. You sneak out the backdoor and find yourself faced with Shadow soldiers.

You manage to slip past as they talk and into the next house.

You find a small storage room and your heart sinks when you find a civilian laying dead next to a toolkit. "Son of the damn devil." You whisper.

You walk through the rest of the house. Chairs and dreary wallpaper, everything a normal family would need.

You jump when you hear banging thunder against one of the doors. You grab your knife as you approach the door and swing it open.

But just as you do, the wounded civilian on the other side falls to his knees. His eyes look up at you in pain and fear before he's gone.

You swallow the sick feeling in your mouth and step over him and press forward.

"I'm in the coffee shop." You sit rep.

"Get us a tea."

You roll your eyes. "Fuckin' Brits. You'll owe me for this you know?"

"Why?"

"We're all fixing each other's problems."

"And what's my problem?"

"The mask," You whine.

"Take it off." Johnny joins, making you smile.

"Show my face?"

"Yes, sir. Ain't nothing wrong with that."

"Negative."

You pout. Finally, you find a stim case on the counter, along with some other trinkets. You jab it into your arm and feel slight relief from the adrenaline.

There's a briefcase sitting on the table. You open it only to find more explosives and an aiming sight. Not much use to you.

You grab the briefcase and hang on to it, just in case Johnny can use it.

"Are you ugly?" Johnny continues.

"Quite the opposite." Ghost replies.

"I doubt that."

Johnny chuckles, and Ghost disappears from the comms. You switch your channel to just Johnny, "I think we bullied him."

"Aw, poor Lt."

You search behind the shop counter. "He does owe us when we get back, though."

"That's for fucking sure. This would go a lot smoother if we were all together."

You push another door open, looking around and finding nothing.

"You know, maybe a vacation could do us good??"

"Vacation? The hell are you on about."

"The Bahamas are sounding really nice right about now."

"Ghost is allergic to the sun."

You chuckle. You hear the door of the coffee shop open. You're at the ready, slipping back out of the room, only to see Johnny.

"Scared me for a minute."

"Figured out where the coffee shop was."

You hold out the briefcase and smile. "Figured you could use this." You look down and see the gun in his hand. "And where did you find that?"

"Tripwire. House just down the road."

Johnny takes the case of explosives and secures the sight onto his gun.

"Have you checked everything?"

"No, just the first door."

You both head for the office door, to no surprise it's locked.

Johnny hums and pulls out a couple of tools from his belt. "Give this a try."

You take a step back as he slots the tool in the door and force it open.

"Nice skills there Soap."

He winks and allows you in first. A couple filing cabinets, a desk, and a safe. You approach the safe. "Is there a code around here??"

Johnny inspects the room, looking under papers and books. His attention soon turned to the calendar up on the wall. With a suspicious number of dates circled. "That looks interesting."

"Give it a go?"

Johnny nods, so you punch in the numbers, your eyes widening when it works. "On the money."

You open the safe and search inside. Throwing knives, money...

"Oh ho ho."

Johnny raises a brow. "What??"

"Hand held .50 cal...? You're coming with me..."

Johnny gapes. "What!? No way, I want that one."

You frown. "No way, you have the big guy." You motion briefly to the Lockwood in his hands. "This one, is mine."

Johnny sputters but ultimately huffs and shuts up.

You switch your radio to the clear channel again. "Ghost."

"Y/n..."

"Guess what I found?"

"More stopping power?"

"Check."

Johnny huffs, making his way back out of the room and you follow close behind.

"Your life expectancy just went way up."

"Thank you!"

"Not yet sergeant. It's still your job to keep you alive."

"Thanks Lt. Really helping us out here."

Johnny approaches the window to take a look outside. "Uh oh, looks like we're gonna have company."

You look up, seeing the Shadows advancing outside. "What do we do?"

"We can fight?"

"Took risky." You reply.

"That's three less Shadows on our tail."

You chew your lip, trying to make a decision.

"You two, check out that warehouse." The Shadow says.

Johnny grabs your arm and pulls you down next to him. "Guess we're fighting it out." You clock your gun.

"Let's get it over and done with."

"You make it sound like we're doing chores." You retort.

"They've got no guns, he won't get far." A second Shadow says, much closer than before.

"They're 141... Still dangerous. Go left, I'll clear the alley."

"Roger, on it."

Johnny sneaks around the edge of the bar, motioning you to follow him. You crawl quickly on your hands and knees, barely out of sight before the door to the shop opens.

Boots crackle wetly along the tile ground. You steady your breath as the Shadow enters, followed by another.

"Ya here? Not too late to surrender..." The Shadow calls out.

You look at Johnny who is readying himself.

Your comm crackles and you freeze.

"Sergeant, how are we doing?" Ghost asks.

Your eyes widen.

The Shadows snap and round the corner, ammo loaded.

You roll to your feet and slam the closest one to you against the wall, the barrel of your gun against his jaw and soon a bullet in his brain. Johnny tussles with the other one before managing to overpower him and stabbing him in the throat.

You both run for the backdoor and run out into the street. Johnny slips down the alleyway toward the third Shadow and slices him clean through the back with his knife.

"Come on."

You break for it down the alley and across the street.

"Come on. A bit further."

You huff. You pant. Your legs buckle and you slam down to the ground.

Blood leaks from your wounds and washes away in the street. Your breathing is heavy and you're feeling dizzy again. And a sick lightheaded feeling bounces around in the confines of your skull.

"Come on sergeant. We're almost there."

You shake your head. "I can't. Tired."

Johnny bends down and pulls you up into his arms. You're eyes focus on him briefly before he's just another blur out of reach.

His cold hand cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. "Come on. Come on you're doing So good. I know you can keep moving. I know you can!"

You press your hand to your stomach, feeling bile rise in your chest. Johnny's eyes fade in and out, his figure blending with the shadows.

"Ghost. Cobra isn't doing well."

You huff and heave. Your eyes swell with tears.

Johnny can see it coming and he slowly moves you out of his arms and down to the ground.

Your vision fades in and out.

"What's the sergeants condition?" Ghost asks.

Johnny smooths his hands over your arms. He checks your vest for any kind of medical supplies. Worry bubbling when he finds nothing to bandage you with. "Not good. I'm not sure what's going on-"

"Alright Johnny. Flip y/n over, get the sergeant on their hands and knees."

"No-!" You wheezed. "Hurt."

Johnny scavenges his person for medical supplies, finding nothing.

"Shit. Y/n, come here. I've got you."

You dry heave, your chest flares up, and your cheeks flush.

Johnny helps to flip you over and rubs your back. "It's ok. You're doing well keeping up."

You feel bile rise in your throat. The burn follows before bile forces it's way out from your stomach. Your insides churning and twisting.

Bile spills into the street and burns your dry, sore throat. Blood spills into the mess and slips into one of the storm drains.

When your stomach finally settles enough to suck in air.

Your shaking arms fold in, giving Johnny barely a second to pull you back into the safety of his arms. The rain is starting to get to you. Plastering your shirt to your skin and your hair damp against your forehead.

"Lt. We need to get going." Johnny comms. Much more concerned than before.

You curl into his cold embrace. Tired and sleep threatening to overtake your exhausted body.

"Johnny... town's full o' tunnels. One leads out across from the church. Be advised- the tunnel is flooded. Prepare for a cold swim."

Johnny winces as he pulls you up to your feet. Your head hangs, fighting for consciousness as he pulls you onto his shoulder.

"Hang on Y/n, I'm getting us home."

"Home..."

"Yeah. We're going home. It'll be warm. You can curl up in a blanket and relax. You just gotta hang on alright?"

"Can't wait."

"I know. But try."

"Still upright?" Ghost asks after a minute of walking.

"So far, so good. Can't say the same for Y/n though."

"You get caught out there, they'll kill you slow..."

"Mercs or the Narcos?"

"Narcos... They'll take videos..."

"I'll give 'em your email so they know where to send them..." Johnny opens another house door and slips inside.

"I won't watch 'em... More than once anyway..."

"Sick bastard..."

Johnny places you down by the stairs and cups your cheek. "How are we doing?"

Blood still drips from your mouth, and it's starting to trickle from your nose as well. All you can manage is a weak smile.

Johnny leaves you there while he searches the place. He searches the kitchen, the living room, and the garage. You're left unaided in silence.

"You still standing, Y/n?"

"Think I'm clear..." You can barely reply.

"Soap- you makin' progress?"

Johnny hums from the other room. "Aye. Gettin' there..."

You watch the blood trickling down your arm. Your vision briefly blurs again, but you blink it away.

"Hey sergeant." Your comm. Crackles again.

"Two goldfish are in a tank...?"

You shift gently, still holding your angry stomach. "Go on..."

Ghost replies immediately. "One turns to the other and says... "You know how to drive this thing?" Little army humor."

"Very little." You reply. But you can hear in his voice he's trying to hold back a chuckle. It's a comforting thought to think that wherever Ghost is, he's smiling.

Johnny gives you a nod when he comes back from the living room and walks up the stairs to check the second floor.

"Another?"

You clasp and unclasp your cold fingers. "Why not..."

"Why don't blind guys skydive?"

"Tell me."

"Scares the shit out o' their dogs..."

You crack a small smile.

"We could do this all night."

"That's what I'm afraid of." You respond.

Johnny comes back down the stairs and showed you the new weapon on his hip. "Found a safe upstairs. Had some snazzy stuff inside."

You attempt to stand with him but your body doesnt make it far.

Johnny quickly comes to your side and helps you up. "Don't worry. I'll keep us moving. Think you can hop on my back?"

You nod and stand against the wall as Johnny bends over. It's an uncomfortable fit against the protective vest, but it's better than being hauled over his shoulder.

He left through the front door and walked back out into the rain.

"Hey Ghost..." You croak.

"What is it, sergeant?" Ghost's voice seems a slight bit softer. Maybe it's the delirium or the rain, but he sounds comforting.

"I gotta joke for you..."

"Let's hear it then."

You close your eyes, your breathing slowing. Johnny looks back over his shoulder at you and pats your thigh.

"Why don't shrimps share?"

"Why?"

"Because they're a little shellfish."

"Not bad." Ghost replies. Even Johnny manages to crack a smile.

Johnny stops under a small overhang and opens the door. Warm light welcomes you inside the scuffed up bar.

"Lt- I'm at the bar."

"You like tequila?"

"Could use one right about now," Johnny replies, looking around for things.

"I'd murder for a whiskey."

"You mean Scotch?"

"I drink bourbon."

"Like a good ol' boy..."

Ghost sighs. "I love Kentucky."

"You're out o' your mind, Lt."

"That's for sure."

Johnny pats your thigh. "Hang in there sergeant." You cling to him as best you can, relying on their voices. Both their voices help you focus on the task ahead of you.

Johnny pushes outside of the bar and finds his way to the tunnels.

"Lt. I've got a problem."

"What's your situation, Johnny?"

"Reached the tunnel. Not sure how I'm gonna get y/n through with me." Johnny helps you off his back and sets you down.

"How are you feeling Y/n?"

You hold onto his hand. "Can't quite feel my legs."

"Ghost, is there any other way?"

"I'm afraid not. If you've got any more stims get the sergeant boosted."

Johnny holds your hand and motions to the tunnel. "We've gotta go for a swim."

"I don't think I can-"

"I'm not leaving you out here. We're so close. I just need you to push through just one last time. Can you do this, for us?"

You swallow hard. "I'll try."

"Good. Come on."

Johnny grabs your hand and helps you up. Your feet are numb, but it at least rids off the pain in your legs.

You hold Johnny's hands tightly as you enter the tunnel. You gasp as you walk into the water, eventually unable to touch the ground. The cold water washes up your waist and over your shoulder blades. It laps at your wounds and soothes them slightly. Johnny looks back at you to check if you're ok, and you nod.

You move your arms despite the pain in your left arm and swim slowly through the tunnel.

"You're doing good." Johnny praises over breaths of his own exhaustion.

"Ghost."

"Johnny."

"We're working through the tunnel."

"The church plaza is on the other end of the tunnel. Push through, you're nearly here."

The reassurance of safety fuels your need to keep going. You fight and push through the cold water. Your fingers start freezing up, and your legs can barely move. You grab onto the hook of Johnny's tactical gear just so you can keep up.

Johnny slows along the water line when he spots a group of Shadows on patrol. "Alright, we're gonna take this slow." You nod and follow Johnny toward the water line.

"Where the hell are they?!" The first Shadow grumbles.

"Maybe, all three of them are dead?" The second asks.

"Graves wants proof."

"Just cut the mask off." The second one says.

"Do I get a bonus for that...?"

"Not if I beat you to it."

Johnny slips up the side of the watered tunnel. You follow and try not to disturb the water as you go.

"I'll kill the Irish one." The first Shadow growls.

"The kid's Scottish, not Irish." The second one sighs.

"It's the same fuckin' thing...!"

Johnny stops along the wall and reaches for his knife.

"Ghost, I got Shadows wearing body armor."

"You'll have to get in close and find the gaps."

"Rog."

Johnny grips his knife and looks at you. You fiddle with your knife and follow him. "I'll take left." He whispers. You nod and turn to the Shadow on the right.

"Again, what about the other one? Graves isn't to happy the other sergeant jumped from the truck." The first one readjusts his gun.

"Kill them. What else? I highly doubt they made it far after that fall."

You look over at Johnny, who slips out of the shadows. He nods to you, and you rush the Shadows'. You grab the Shadow's shoulder and slot your knife in the break of armor by his neck. You dig the blade into the crook of his neck and slice open the skin.

Blood spurts out across your hand and uniform. His body falls back into yours. You lean into the action and throw him back into the flooded tunnel.

Your vision blurs again, but you shake it off quickly.

"Good job." Johnny says.

You both head for the end of the tunnel and your heart swells. "Johnny... The church!" Johnny smiles in relief.

"Ghost. We've got eyes on the church."

"Good. You're on the right track. Keep comin'.

Johnny motions you forward and runs out of the tunnel and out into the street.

The rain has let up, but not by much. It's easier to see your surroundings now. You both run until you are cut off by a blockade of vehicles lining the street. "Shit." Johnny curses. "Lt. We're blocked off."

"Try and cut through the shops."

Johnny looks from left to right.

You look around with him, finding an alleyway next to the shops. "There." You point.

Johnny looks to where you're pointing and smiles. "Good eyes. Come on, let's go."

Johnny rushes toward the alleyway. You stumbled after him. You swallow down your ragged breath, your will to survive momentarily pushing out the pain still searing through your body.

You shivered in the cold, completely drenched.

Your breath evaporates out from your lungs, and into the air. You push through, the fear of Johnny's back getting smaller, and his silhouette being swallowed up by the night keeping you going.

Johnny ducks into the alleyway. "Think we found a way through Lt."

"Shadows are everywhere. I'll hold 'em off until we RV in front of the church and secure a vehicle for exfil."

"Roger that."

"Give 'em hell, Johnny- We're almost there. Keep on your feet Y/n, you're doing good."

"Yes sir." You rasp.

Johnny turns back to you and cups your hand in his. You lean against the wall and close your eyes. You can hear Johnny struggling with the door to get inside.

Your breathing slows and the lightheaded feeling returns.

The door opens and Johnny gasps. "Fuck-!"

You open your eyes just as Johnny receives the butt end of a Shadow's gun and is thrown to the ground. You reach for your knife too late, and the Shadow hits you in the back of the knees and sends you down to the ground.

The side of your head hits the ground, and blood rushes through your ears. Your vision goes fuzzy, and everything blurs and spins. Johnny fades in and out beside you, and the swirl of colors that is Johnny shifts.

"What the... GET DOWN-! All Shadow stations, Got two near the church-!" The Shadow soldier yells.

Ringing vibrates around your head. The blood dripping from your nose onto the road is the only thing you can listen to.

Time seems to freeze an eternity before you hear the Shadow's comm. crackle.

Graves' voice was loud and clear. His voice is cold as ice against your body.

"Kill them."

Bang!

A gunshot rings through the air, and the Shadow above you suddenly falls limply to the ground. Across the barbwire fence of the church rush more Shadow troops, those of which are taken down by a bigger silhouette.

Johnny sits up and shoves the Shadow away with his foot.

"Holy hell... Ghost- was that you?"

"Who else...? Now go..."

Johnny gets up and grabbed

your arms. "Come on y/n, let's go."

Your vision spins, your stomach flipping and spiraling. Your head lolls as Johnny pulls on you, a bullet whistling past your head as he pulls you inside.

Johnny slams the door shut and cups your cheek. "Oh my- you're bleeding so much. Fucking hell."

You try to focus your eyes on Johnny. Your hand comes up to the side of your head, feeling sticky warmth against your temple. You pull your fingers away and red stains your fingertips.

"Ghost. Leaking blood. Badly. What are our options??" Johnny leans you against the wall and checks for anything he could use to stop the blood.

"Johnny, got company in the church, and they're not here for forgiveness...! Get to the steps, I'll be there..."

Johnny curses. "Get on my back!"

"Soap..."

"Get on my back!"

You grab onto his shoulders, and he pulls you up onto his back.

Johnny cocks his gun and opens the shop door.

Gunfire rains across the area, whizzing by your bodies. "Give me a bloody break." He heaves you further up into his arms and makes a break for it across the yard.

Shadow soldiers converge on the church. Johnny smiles when he reaches the entrance of the church.

"Ghost!"

"Johnny!"

Ghost shoots two approaching Shadows and climbs up and over the gate of the church.

Ghost comes into your field of view, his gloved hand cups your injured head. "How are we hanging in soldier?"

"Not good. They're barely hanging on." Johnny replies for you. Ghost nods. "Come on, I'll take them." Johnny stands up and you slide easily into Ghost's arms. "Holding strong sergeant."

You cling to his back and hug him tightly. "Come on! Let's go."

"We need a vehicle, on me-! Stay sharp, they know we're here and they know it's us. They'll send more." Ghost's voice rumbles through his chest and warms your insides.

It's beyond relieving to see your lieutenant again. You aren't in the clear yet, but his presence brings safety.

More Shadows appear from the alleyway and charge your group.

"Contact-! Dead ahead!"

"I see 'em. Watch the alley!"

Johnny shoots the Shadows dead and continue their run through the streets.

"How are we doing Y/n?"

"Still alive..." You groan.

"Keep it that way! You're doing good!" He praises.

Johnny and Simon continue down the road. "Johnny, stay close. Heads up for a vehicle we can take."

Bullets whistle past you. The yelling of soldiers struggling to get their targets on the three of you overpowers your senses. Your vision slowly returns, and you're able to regrip Ghost's tactical vest.

"Soap, pick up truck ahead. lights on."

"I got it!" Johnny replies.

"I'll drive, Johnny- take shotgun."

Ghost stops at the backseat and flings the door open. "Hold steady soldier!" He releases you and lays you in the backseat."

"Now, Johnny, passenger side of the truck- mount up!"

Johnny jumps in.

"Alright, you two, you made it..."

You give a shaky thumbs-up, making Ghost chuckle.

"We made it Lt."

Bullets ping into the metal of the pickup truck as Shadows throw you three under heavy fire.

"Hold fast...!" Ghost puts the truck in reverse and runs over two Shadows firing at you.

"That's one way o' doin' it!"

Johnny spots a Shadow to the left of Ghost out the window just as you do.

"Get back!"

The Shadow drops dead to the ground, more soldiers falling into the street and firing at you.

"Thanks." Ghost says.

A bullet whistles through the back window, shattering the glass just above your head. "Shit-!" You gasp.

"Drive- I'll cover us!" Johnny yells.

Ghost slams on the pedal and drives the truck straight into the gate ahead. He takes off down the road and doesn't attempt to stop.

Johnny sits back in his seat and sighs. "Bloody hell..."

"You made it out..." Ghost says.

"I'm proud of both of you." He flips the rearview mirror down to see your face. "Just hang in a little longer partner. We're gonna get you patched up good as new.

"I feel like shit." You groan.

Your blood leaks out on the seat, and your wet clothes grow uncomfortable. Ghost eventually pulls over on the side of the road and gets out.

"We've got a bit of time if they've been following us." He opens the back seat and motions you forward.

"Bloody hell, Johnny wasn't kiddin', you did destroy your knees." Ghost ran his thumb over them and you tense.

"I'm sure Alejandro has something that can patch you up."

"Alejandro..?" You clench your teeth.

"Yeah, for now," Ghost pulls out some bandage wraps from his pouch. "Johnny hand me that tourniquet on your vest."

"My what-?" Johnny looks down and checks his vest surprised. "I didn't even- blind as bloody blind person..." He hands over the tourniquet.

Ghost pulls off your tactical gear and throws it on the other seat. You shiver, and his hand is there to comfort you.

"We'll be out of this soon."

He wraps both your knees and your head enough to get you through. "Arm." He instructs. You motion to your wounded arm and he wraps the tourniquet around it tightly.

"That'll keep you from bleeding all over the seats."

"Thank you lieutenant." You whisper. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Ghost bends down, and for a moment, his eyes soften and something is let out. A glimpse of love and concern. "You did amazing, sergeant."

He helps your legs back into the truck and closes the door. "Now, let's get somewhere safe."

"Got an idea, Lt?"

"I might. Yeah."

[drdemonprince]

Since autistic traits are human traits (as in "all of these are found to a greater or lesser degree in different people"), I've rolled around in my head whether some of the "black and white thinking", "systematizing", "rigidity" overlaps with our frequent interest in patterns, our OCD traits, routines, etc.

That is, I wonder if some of that is the "normal" human trait of pattern-seeking/pattern-matching, but expressing either more intensely or (as I kind of think) with less of a *filter* (perhaps a filter for relevance?) than most people get.

So some of us can sometimes make some true and interesting and even groundbreaking connections between things, but not all the patterns or connections we see are relevant or accurate.

Like the "attention to detail" thing where it often means we can't filter out the irrelevant details, we'll perceive details and connections that might not actually be connected. Which could also predispose us to cults, conspiracy theories, etc.

I also think about that stuff as possibly contributing to some of my old phobias and some of my trauma/BPD traits - "I have been hurt before in situations that looked a lot like this, therefore I need to be vigilant and protect myself (even if the actual circumstances of this situation are very different, e.g. I'm now with someone who *isn't* hurting me, or my health isn't *actually* in danger)"

Anyway. Just some thoughts. I think it all ties together into our tendency toward anxiety, our nearly universal histories of trauma, etc. so it's never just one thing.

Yep, there is no objective metric of what is OCD, what is Autism, what is BPD, etc -- and between all of those categories and just being a human.

On the whole, Autistic people tend to skew toward being highly detail oriented, and that detail-oriented style of processing is highly overwhelming and effortful -- it takes more energy than focusing on the "forest," and the ways that we systematize and streamline the knowledge we have of the "trees" can be prone to error, overcorrection, bias, etc just as much as being a big picture thinker can be prone to missing a lot of stimuli. They miss stimuli because that is the point of their processing style -- to be more effecient. And we see all kinds of things that make people assume we are crazy or oversensitive because, well, that's how a more detail-oriented processing style works by definition -- you pick up things that other's don't.

That doesn't mean we are objective. We also miss lots of cues in one direction because we are so intently focused on processing everything that's in another. I am terrible at recognizing people in public because i just can't look at faces for the most part when i'm in a crowd. i cant often tell how people are feeling. yet i can pick up on a subtle conversational tension between two people sometimes that no one else even saw. i dont know exactly what makes that happen, but it is also the same mechanism that makes me create elaborate evidence for why a person MUST be mad at me when they aren't at all.

so yeah, needless to say i relate to how you think about this! the processing style we are talking about is inherently pretty paradoxical in nature. always noticing. always missing things. always reading too much into the wrong things, always reading too little into the right ones, a superpower, a burden, a completely neutral source of random error that sometimes hits and sometimes misses, a paranoia, an oblivoiusness, all in one

[sencity]

playboy bunny . . ☪︎︎

˚₊ ꒰ nightmare fuel 𝄁︎ playboy bunny consists of: sub!sanji, bi!sanji, male!y/n, bunny suit!sanji, post-timeskip!sanji, m!oral receiving, edging, grinding, mentions of excessive slobber, cum, and blood, slight degradation, smoking (herbal joint), old one shot, praise + implied riding.

˚₊ ꒰ word count 𝄁︎ 3205.

˚₊ ꒰ sen’s statements 𝄁︎ i’ll do everything for this twinkalink. anyways, masterlist anyone?

Exceptional times like this, Y/N gets a little too disinterested in the cook’s beaming smile, obsessive rambling, and sudden pirouetting to examine other locations that are equally as eye-catching and in need of his lecherous gazes.

Sanji’s slight forearm muscles with his gentle biceps he confined in his notorious suit were currently conspicuous due to the suggestive costume he was provoked to try on. The pointed breast cuffs of the scandalous attire embosomed his chest a little too tight. It was almost impossible to believe that the chef was able to maneuver in something he possibly couldn’t even breathe in.

The constriction was also proven with another impulsive glance; his bulge was utterly prominent in the midnight latex body suit, also testing to see how long Y/N could uphold a conversation with him until he finally took the bait and quickly retired to the bedroom. Y/N never in his life wanted to desperately switch locations with the simple black mesh pantyhose stockings that were embracing his supple thighs with infinite delicacy. It was an enticing but shocking experience for him, seeming as if he believed that Sanji wouldn’t be into the whole costume idea.

His accessories brought out the outfit as well — the fuzzy pure white cuffs that clasped onto his wrists, the cute little white ribbons tied into knots on both sides of his hips for decoration, the white collar enclosed around his pretty throat with a black bow tie to top it off, and of course white bunny ears representing the cherry to the cake that will be getting devoured tonight. To check to see if his theory was accurate, which was Sanji’s doing this out of his pure, guileless curiosity and thoughtfulness, Y/N gulped down his salacious ideas for a moment to give Sanji another one of his harmless orders, which was — “Come on, let’s catch up in the bedroom. The kitchen’s kinda cold, not really the best place to do it..”

He stops twirling instantly, surprisingly not dropping not one seed from the homemade smoothie bowl he crafted for Y/N. With the same, thrilled, oblivious cheese, he placed his leg back on the floor before finally handing Y/N the smoothie bowl which he promised himself to eat after so he wouldn’t appear ungrateful or wasteful. As anticipated, Sanji enclosed the space in between them to embrace Y/N’s torso with a satisfied hum after nuzzling his neck, practically applying most of his weight on him causing you to smile a bit and hug him tighter, kissing the top of his head causing his heart to melt into a pile of mush.

“Y/N, my handsome prince not only arrived to accompany me but to gift me some of his heavenly hugs and kisses! What a lovely night indeeeed! You shall have anything you want tonight, mon amour, and I’ll happily oblige!”

“Anything I want, yeah? Meaning anything I desire from you?”

And that’s how those artless events led to here: Sanji owning up to his “anything you want” promise by reposing in between the impish male’s legs, quaffing down the excessive slobber that inundated Y/N’s throbbing dick, also wondering how the hell did these events occur so fast.

Y/N was choosey about how he wanted in their sessions to turn out since his desires were on the line, meaning he was liable for the chef’s lecherous display he was performing for him personally — Sanji trying his toughest to abate his arousal by attrition, shifting and grinding into the covers below him, but alternatively pleasuring his somewhat stressed partner first as he promised. The partner in question, who was entangling his quizzical fingers in Sanji’s auric sheets of hair, bestowed him with sensual praise since he had been doing so well ever since he unbuckled his belt for him.

Since his mouth was stuffed and entertained as his hands occupied Y/N’s soft, thermal thighs. Sanji’s combination of essential herbs enveloped with the thin paper was reposing between Y/N’s lips safe and sound, adding to the venerated expression on his face. By all means, the revering tour de force was exceeding most of his expectations, but he had another idea on how he could adorn the scene. With a little tug at Sanji’s hair, he focused his attention on you and not the dick he withdrew from his mouth with an audible sigh. A string of a slobber and pre–cum mixture stretched from your tawny tip to Sanji’s soaked lips, making your dick twitch a little too hard at the vision.

“Come on Sanji, if you wanna be a bunny at least do it properly…” Your words were lucid yet beyond comprehension; you were stating that Sanji was doing something you disliked but he was unable to pinpoint what it was. The teary disturbance in his gaze was imploring for answers before he could verbally disclose what needed to be changed so he could have a wonderful experience. Y/N, in response, adjusted the headband of Sanji’s rabbit ears since they were lopsided due to their activity. As you took a deep inhale of the joint so the smoke could aid your lungs, dispersing as they inflated, Sanji was determined to keep your high intact. So by rewrapping his lissome fingers around your twitchy dick, your exhale audibly trembled due to your sensitivity, but that didn’t stop the dense gray smoke clouds that whizzed past your lips with ease.

You then took the joint from your lips to guide it over to Sanji’s inundated ones. Understanding the gesture immediately, his lips parted slightly allowing Y/N to place them in between his lips so he could enhance a distinct type of high. Disregarding the sticky substances cascading from the corners of his mouth and down to his jaw, Sanji took a moment to take a quick breather so he wouldn’t have any trouble with inhaling the mixture that not only promoted relaxation but also arousal. His lips latched onto the joint as soft squelches from the gradual strokes declared disclosure. After inhaling enough to reach the limited capacity, he exhaled cordiform clouds from his lips with a satisfied grin growing on his face.

When you removed the joint from his lips, you untangled your fingers from his hair to place your hand on the warmth of Sanji’s cheek. Your tender touch was taking a toll on his addled brain, especially after criticizing his imitations of another species. As you smeared your thumb across his slobbery lips, essentially smudging the fluids around them and cheeks, you then audaciously ordered — “Now arch your back as high as you can and shake your cute little cotton tail…”

Hesitation operated his actions for a hot second. It wasn’t out of the blue when Y/N asked him things along the lines of “arch some more” or simply placing his hand on his lower back to deepen the arch for him, but to add on a little humiliating butt shake was only the beginning of his timidness. Though he did vow to do anything for you to mitigate the stress you were experiencing, not to mention that your cinnamon-hued eyes were imbued with impatience and wonder, so it led him no choice but to so-called “oblige” and comply.

While resting the side of his face on your inner thigh for support, he positioned his knees so that he could hoist his behind up in the air as high as he could, deepening his arch as well as dimples that were prominent as faculae on the sun. The gyration of Y/N’s lucid, lascivious thoughts was immediately provoked when Sanji’s face rubefied once he gave his “cotton tail” a little shake. Even after trying to throw in an amused laugh to shake Sanji up even more, you were restively bucking your hips up a bit indicating that he needs to hurry and continue appropriately. While performing the order he was told, Sanji indeed proceeded to please you by lifting his head from your thigh to enclose his lips around your sensitive tip.

A performance you would rate a perfect 10/10 and would not recommend anyone else to watch but you. You were entranced by the way Sanji pampered your drooling tip with starved kisses as his precise hand movement grazed his dick to the point where those evocative squelches conquered the silence. Besotted with the glimmery effect of his soaked fingers that were caused by the slaver that emptied from the warmth of Sanji’s mouth, cascading down your dick ‘til it reached the beginning.

The depletion of Y/N’s self–possession not only harmed his vain, but also the ability for Sanji to break away his intentional gaze even if it was knowingly impossible for him to do so. Your fingers were captured in the annulets of your own hallowed honey curls after granting Sanji freedom when your hands were trapped in his own hair. You were also exhausting yourself with the constant, deep breaths you were taking as if the oxygen was thin. At this rate, Y/N was unable to decipher how much more of this he could take and seeing you in such a vulnerable position no matter how he was receiving pleasure is one way to drive a lovesick, obsessive man wild.

“Fuck, you’re so cute…giving me a hard time finding some composure…” Defeated breathless laughs in between your airy moans encouraged Sanji’s desire for sexual elation, even his little tail–shaking act wasn’t done at will anymore since he was trying to develop some sort of friction to subside the aching discomfort building up in his dick. Thoughtlessly, considering that Y/N has been derided from his approaching orgasm itself since it was taking entirely too long, he thrusts his hips up causing his dick to slide down Sanji’s throat causing his eyes to widen and audibly gag at the sudden length abusing his mouth. “Gonna reward you so good, yeah? My pretty fucking bunny, always do what he’s told.”

Sanji’s vision was soused with tears of zeal and vehemence as you proceeded to selfishly rupture his throat when you sensed your high approaching soon. Adding on that the scarce extols and approvals from you exacerbated Sanji’s desperation. With each gurgle and pitched gag you strained from the chef, a muffled whimper of discomfort titillated against your dick, also forging accidental moans due to the slight vibration. With the joint-holding hand, Y/N impulsively placed it on top of Sanji’s head before pushing his head down more, needing him to take all of you and leave no trace of cum once you’re done.

“Don’t be silly, bunnies can’t gag, let alone vomit, so take it..all,” Even your subtle wit wasn’t enough to rescue him from this pit of ephemeral exhilaration. Sanji’s eyes slammed shut as he grasped onto your thighs before tears began rolling down his flushed face since it was too much to bear. Quickly, he lifted his head for a gust of air followed by a short string of minor gasps before he perished from suffocation. After gaining a bit of composure, he went back down, disregarding the burning sensation in his throat and nostrils as he took his dick back down his throat where it belonged. Y/N tilted back his head, furrowing his brows as his suggestive breaths converted into stammered praises and slurred moans; a big indicator that he was seconds away from finally reaching his orgasm.

“E–Everything, all of it, mmm. Beautiful bunny…”

Your praises not only faltered more, but your tone reached a crescendo without trying as Sanji sucked clamorously, gently massaging your thigh for comfort and reassurance. Tears pricked your lashes as you shifted a bit more in the sheets below you, placing your hand over your mouth after concluding that they weren’t necessarily the only ones on this silent, seemingly vacant ship. Expectedly, Y/N permitted whines to fly from his mouth in order to catch them with his palm as his thighs began to tremble a bit. Then, his dick twitches violently in Sanji’s mouth, implying and warning that he was cumming but it was too late for Sanji to physically prepare since his orgasm took him by surprise. Once again, Sanji’s head jolted upwards due to accidental suffocation, but this time the nymph’s divine juices cascaded from Sanji’s mouth and back onto his tip, which was still sopping from cum that just would not stop dripping from the entrance.

With a couple of breaths, Y/N looked back at Sanji and he was in the midst of swallowing the excess cum that refused to drop from his sticky lips. You grinned lazily at Sanji, oddly flagitious at him and his half-lidded mocha brown eye. You then grabbed his jaw, puffing his cheeks out due to the mild grip you had on his face, but nothing that would cause severe harm. Enough to keep him attentive and remind him that the both of you are nowhere near done. “Once again, as expected, out of character. Clean up the mess you made before I reward you for your hard work.”

Quickly and efficiently, Sanji’s compliance was returned with a nod before brushing the cum from his lips with the tip of his tongue with a small, weary smile, giving you a couple of collywobbles in his stomach because of the expression. Then, he darted his tongue back out of his mouth to lick the essence clean from your semi-hard dick and lower stomach, sitting back up to carefully straddle your lap, not intending on worsening his forming erection even though it’s a bit too late for that, and cuffing his feathery cheeks to pull you into a frantic, rapturous kiss.

Your touch was brisk, instinctive, and concise in more ways than one. As Sanji’s cum-soaked tongue drifted past the entrance of your fallen lips. Your hands then glided down his waist, provoking ecstatic prickles and joyous horripilation when your nails grazed his completely nude back. Naturally, your nails would get caught in the mesh of Sanji’s stockings, but that was intended since he planned to slice open enough holds to free whatever he was confining up in that material of his.

Not only did you swallow every drop of your own cum, but each and every one of the blithesome, needy whimpers Sanji was liberating so desperately, grinding and shifting on your lap when the achy pain of his dick resided after processing the scenario. Sanji was the first to pull away from the ardent, intimate kiss when loud tears coming from behind him ended up startling, yet exciting him, just a bit. Your nails then traveled across his thighs, purposely creating an incision tough enough to tear some thread, not to create holes. With a puckish smirk, your hands finally reached your desired destination, which was the extremely prominent erection that made out most of the shape of Sanji’s dick due to the constriction.

“Now what to do with a messy bunny like you..” Verbally, Y/N wondered as if numerous ideas didn’t come swarming into his head once he set his eyes on the costume. Sanji could only take much more of this sexual torture; he’s running out of personal persuasions to allow you to take as much time as he needs due to the promise he refuses to break, but hope the Gods above you hurries and discovers some amelioration and fast.

“All you please, h–handsome..” With a breathy suggestion, and a little too much freedom, Sanji glanced down at his own phallus to squeeze his fingers in between the latex in the crotch area to force it to the side, potentially discharging and alleviating most of the strain it had on him after confining it for too long. Instinctively, his eyes gazed down as he restricted any upcoming pained whimpers from brushing the tight fabric against his sore, abused dick. A couple of relieved chuckles erupted from his somewhat sore throat as he lazily gazes back up at you, who was hellbent on the scene below you so Sanji hooked his fingers under your chin, lifted his attention to you ever so gently, and lilts — “Je veux juste te faire plaisir, mon amour..”

Automatically translating, thanks to his teachings from the enthusiastic bunny himself, Y/N muttered an engrossed “ouais ?” at the fascinating comment Sanji made as if he wasn’t genuine from the start. Consenting nods was all you needed for confirmation before focusing all of your attention back on the little problem that Sanji can’t seem to get rid of. A blithering “Cute, but annoying,” was only the beginning of your patience being obliterated. With that in mind, it wasn’t unnatural for you to start scathing the fabric with your nail since it was planning on hindering future events that your mind was set on. Needless to say that no ordinary human could cut through latex with the tip of the nail of their pinky, but Y/N was treating it as if it was some ordinary paper, hence you were careful with the mesh so you wouldn’t cause Sanji to bleed out. Afterwards, he instantly poked a big enough hole to stretch open, finally freeing his constrained dick from the layers.

“There, there, there, touch it please, pl–please..” Sanji chivvied when your fingers barely caressed the veins of it, but you still managed to pressure an impulsive reaction from him. His response chuffed you a bit; how could he ever tell something as adorable and troubled as a bunny in distress? It was almost unlike you to not drive Sanji over to the edge, so you gently encased his hand around his throbbing dick as you stroked him slowly, pressing his thumb against his soppy, reddened tip that was just drooling with clear pre–cum. Almost immediately overwhelmed and flamed with joy, he shifted uncontrollably in his lap, cavorting to the point where it was troublesome to keep up with his sporadic movements. Other than Sanji, Y/N needed Eros to ensure that the cook will be unavailable to make breakfast tomorrow by permitting more of those deafening, inconsiderate, whiny moans to fly from the nebbish chef.

“You even binky like a bunny, you must be so excited…” Haughtily and tauntingly, you giggled against his marked chest, speeding up his hand movements causing tears of delight to overflow in his eyes. It was hard for you to abdicate your degrading persona when Sanji’s reactions were so major each time you pointed out something that was moderately humiliating; it was way too cute to not let go. “Wanna cum so bad, wanna make me feel so good but it’s hurting you so bad…” Persistent mindless nods along with a spate of pretty little “yes’s” amused the playful male, but all of this teasing was, again, toying with his patience a bit so you placed your other hand on his lower back before giving his dick a slight, alerting squeeze causing him to squeal silently, but attentively listen to what you has to say.

“Then how about you try putting your energy into prepping and pleasing instead of begging so you could get to hopping like the prettiest fucking bunny you are.”

© all rights reserved 𝄁︎ sencity. plagiarism will not be tolerated on this blog but addressed and chastised accordingly.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Climb

Summary: You're a scientist, an engineer to be exact. Called to a meeting you had no real right to be at, Optimus Prime takes an exclusive interest in you, but you can't help but ask yourself at every turn, Why?

Rating: 18+ 🌹🩸🍆

Story Masterlist

Chapter 7

I’d spent the better part of the day climbing a newly constructed two hundred foot wall, one that would rotate continuously so that I could practice climbing with the equipment I was taking. We’d managed to get a closer look at the ship and realised that the side I would be climbing was similar to that of a glass building. There would be little in the way of ledges to latch onto, so Theo had designed suction pads for my shoes and gloves that would help me attach to the side of the ship.

     The air pressure gun prototype was also ready to be properly tested, it would need around five minutes to recharge before being used again. I practised shooting it to pull me up, before climbing as high as I could with the suction pads. All in all, I would be able to scale quicker than anticipated and the gun could now shoot up to fifty feet above me. It was a godsend to be able to cut out as much climbing footage as possible, but there was still a lot more to climb.

     After the third month I was able to climb ten thousand feet before feeling the fatigue stop me from going any further. There was still twenty thousand to go and so little time to make it. Lennox was coming up with a plan to try and cut out more footage, if they could accurately predict where the ship would land, it might have been possible for me to hop across from a tall building, but these were all big ifs.

     I remembered my promise to Optimus and before I got truly tired, I decided to stop.

     ‘Something wrong?’ Lennox asked as I jumped down from the wall.

     ‘No.’ I shook my head, trying to get my breath back. ‘I just need to rest for a while.’

     ‘Okay.’ He frowned, but nodded anyway. ‘Recovery day tomorrow then and we’ll pick up on Friday.’

     I nodded in agreement. Optimus was right, I needed the rest, my body was crying out for the recovery days and sometimes I felt they weren’t enough. I showered, ate and went back to my office where Theo was still trying to find ways to shave off both weight and distance needed to be covered.

     ‘We can make a smaller and more compact oxygen tank, one that will extract pure oxygen from the surrounding atmosphere,’ he said, excitedly. ‘You’ll have to use it sparingly, but it would be light.’

     ‘That’s all I care about right now.’ I nodded, drinking the rest of the water I was taking on like it was life itself. ‘The weight of the chute is what’s concerning me, is there any way we can shave off a couple of pounds there?’

     Theo sighed, leaning on the desk in front of him. ‘No. I’ve looked over it hundreds of times and everything about it is already designed to be as light as possible, there’s no way to take anything else off of it.’

     I was disappointed to hear it, but I doubted he’d find a way to reduce the weight anyway.

     ‘I was thinking about the bomb though.’ Theo said, a little more positively. ‘We may not have to use bomb, we could go a little more old school.’

     ‘How?’

     ‘Dynamite.’ He smiled.

     ‘Dynamite?’ I exclaimed, half laughing, before realising he was right. ‘You’re a genius.’

     We spent the next few hours working on the calculations for how much dynamite would be needed to blow up the control system, it didn’t seem like much if we could find the right location.

     I checked the time and realised I was late for meeting Optimus. I made some excuse to Theo and quickly went to the Autobot hanger, where Optimus was waiting outside in his transformed state.

     As soon as I approached the door opened, making me smile. I gently hoisted myself inside the truck, unsure of where to put my hands or how to sit.

     ‘Relax.’ Optimus’s voice came through the radio. ‘I will take us to a place where we can talk freely.’

     The truck began moving and I was eventually able to relax, watching the scenery around us. It was quite beautiful to see the rolling hills that was the backdrop to the base I was basically living on.

     ‘Sorry I was late.’ I suddenly said as we drove up towards the top of a hill. ‘Theo and I were working on the bomb aspect of the mission.’

     ‘It’s quite alright.’ Optimus hummed. ‘What progress have you made?’

     ‘Well, we’ve realised that our first plan to construct a bomb would still have an electronic aspect, but if we go old school and use dynamite, we can have the same affect, especially if we can find the right location.’

     ‘Ironhide can help you with that.’ He said, coming to a stop at the edge of the hill. It was a stunning view of the ocean as the sun began to descend in the sky.

     ‘Wow.’ I breathed. The door opened gently, and I shimmied across the seat to step out. I could hear Optimus transforming behind me as I stepped up to the edge of the hill. ‘It’s stunning.’

     ‘Your world has much beauty.’ Optimus commented, taking a seat in the grass beside me. ‘I do not often get to see it, but I have been told many times of the places I should visit.’

     ‘Yeah,’ I whispered, still looking out at the water. ‘It’s something.’

     We sat for a few moments in silence and it was incredibly comfortable, relaxing almost. I still felt so small compared to him, but I no longer felt inferior, not when his presence was so calming.

     ‘May I ask how you came to be an engineer?’ Optimus asked, trying hard not to break the silence too hard.

     I couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘I sort of fell into it really,’ I took a breath. ‘My dad was a mechanic, my mum studied space, so I guess I just got the best of both of them and now I work with space robots.’

     Optimus laughed softly and it was nice to hear, I don’t think I’d ever heard him laugh before, he was always so serious.

     ‘They’re gone now, so all I’ve really got is Theo left. He’s a good friend.’ I wasn’t sure why I was going on so much, but it seemed he didn’t mind. ‘What about you? How did you get here?’ I asked and the weight I often saw him carrying, settled on his shoulders once again.

     ‘The war on our planet forced us to seek refuge,’ Optimus said, sadly. ‘We were stranded here on Earth and now we remain to help protect your kind from the Decepticons. We have no way to return home.’

     ‘I’m sorry you lost your home.’ I said placing my hand on his leg, I wanted him to feel how sorry I was. Optimus closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

     ‘Thank you.’ He breathed the words. I took my hand away and he went to move closer before stopping himself. ‘I apologise.’

     ‘For what?’ I frowned.

     ‘I…’ Optimus stopped himself and instead sighed.

     I looked down at the ground for a moment, before standing and placing my hand on his leg once again. Clearly, he felt good when I did it, and something about his shape had me intrigued as well.

     Optimus hummed gratefully, closing his eyes once again.

     ‘What does it feel like?’ I asked, running my hand over the sheet of metal that was his thigh. It was the only thing I could really reach.

     ‘Soft.’ He said, lowly. ‘Fragile, but strong. Safe.’ I liked that it wasn’t just my fragility he could feel, but also the way my body was changing into something stronger. ‘What do you feel? When you touch me?’ The question was so sincere. His blue eyes were softer, staring down at me, making me aware of his size, but never intimidating me.

     ‘Complexity.’ I said, honestly. ‘Hard metal and tight wires.’ Optimus hummed again. ‘You feel strong, but with the capacity to be gentle.’

     ‘You have no idea what it means to hear you say that Dr Harding.’ He almost breathed it.

     ‘You can call me Jane, you know?’ I chuckled, taking my hand away to stare up at him properly.

     ‘Jane.’ His voice was so low that it made my chest flood with heat. ‘I want you to know that your words have penetrated me in ways you cannot fathom.’ I frowned, but let a small smile go. ‘Your kind often look upon us and fear our size and strength, perceive it as a threat, but you notice our capacity for gentleness and kindness, I am grateful that I have not had to prove it to you, rather you see it on your own.’

     I smiled. ‘I never believed you were here to hurt us, Optimus. I always knew you could be kind. You don’t have to prove anything to me.’

     He turned so that he was leaning over me a little more. ‘I am unsure of how to ask my next question, so please forgive my hesitancy.’

     ‘Okay.’ I chuckled. ‘What is it?’

     Optimus went to speak and for the first time, I saw him truly hesitate, like he really didn’t know how to ask for whatever it was he wanted.

     ‘I am uncertain of human relationship customs, but I would like to make clear that I desire a relationship with you.’ His eyes drifted over me easily and I could feel my heart racing. ‘How might I go about asking this of you?’

     I couldn’t help but smile, even let out a small laugh, much to his confusion. ‘Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I promise.’ I assured him. ‘Well, I’m not actually an expert, I’ve never really been in a proper relationship before.’

     ‘Never?’ Optimus seemed surprised.

     I shook my head. ‘No, but it doesn’t bother me. I always figured I’d end up with some physicist or a dentist maybe and I would have a very plain, boring life. Anyway.’ I shook my head again, trying to get back on track. ‘I guess I don’t really know the answer. How many Autobots and humans have relationships anyway?’

     ‘I am uncertain.’ Optimus shook his head, glancing out at the sun that had almost set. ‘I do not think it is a common occurrence at all.’

     ‘No, me neither.’ I smiled. ‘I like you a lot.’

     It only occurred to me that I hadn’t said it before now, and judging from his softening expression, he was glad to hear it.

     ‘But I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship just yet.’ It was sad to see his expression dropping to one of disappointment, but I needed to be honest. ‘With everything that’s being asked of me, I don’t know if I could dedicate much of myself to anything else. Is that okay?’

     ‘Of course, it is.’ It was almost a snap. ‘I would not force anything upon you. It must be your choice and yours alone.’ He seemed ashamed that he’d let his anger seep in. ‘I apologise, it is not customary to force oneself upon another.’

     ‘It’s not customary here either.’ I told him. ‘But unfortunately, it happens. A lot.’

     Optimus almost growled. ‘This has happened to you?’

     I took a breath and thought on how best to approach the subject. ‘Optimus, you don’t need to worry about it. Please don’t think on the past as anything but that.’

     He took a long moment to think before calming down and nodding. ‘Very well. I will think no more on it.’ He leaned back a little and indicated for me to sit with him again. ‘May I ask another question concerning a potential relationship?’

     ‘Sure.’ I chuckled, still not really believing that I was really having this conversation with the great leader of the Autobots.

     ‘Do you foresee a time when you could say yes to being with me?’

     That was another big question, and I had no idea of what the answer was.

     ‘I’m not sure I can see further than three months at the moment.’ I admittedly honestly. ‘I wish I could say yes, that all I need is time process how overwhelming this is, but truthfully, I still don’t anticipate my survival. I hope I make it out, I hope I come home and live a life like my parents. Happy. But right now, it just seems too far away. Does that make sense?’

     ‘It does.’ Optimus nodded, still looking at the orange sky where the sun had disappeared behind the ocean. ‘It is a feeling I understand all too well.’ He paused for another moment. ‘What is it you find overwhelming?’

     I chuckled again, leaning on my hand to look up at him. ‘These days I find just getting up overwhelming. But at the moment, I find sitting here with the leader of the Autobots and someone who is clearly a very big deal to everyone around him, extremely far out of my usual comfort zone. Not only that, but hearing that that same great leader likes me enough to want a relationship…’ I chuckled again. ‘It doesn’t feel real.’ I looked up at his bright blue eyes and saw that I had all of his attention. ‘I feel like I should still be in a lab somewhere with Theo trying to build parts for satellites and argue about what was on TV the night before. This isn’t what I thought my life would be.’

     Optimus thought quietly for a while. ‘Is there any way I can make things easier for you?’ He asked, it was so simple and honest that it made me smile.

     ‘I don’t know.’ I confessed. ‘I suppose I’m just trying to normalise everything for myself. Make it all seem like every day.’

     ‘Optimus, do you copy?’ A voice suddenly came from his radio. It sounded like Lennox. ‘Optimus Prime, are you there?’

     Optimus sighed before answering. ‘I am here.’

     ‘Thank God, we’ve got Decepticon activity closing in on the northern part of the base. Where are you?’

     Optimus stood immediately.

     ‘Wait, aren’t we on the north side?’ I asked, feeling my heart shoot through the floor in panic. I stood up with Optimus in a panic.

     ‘Sergeant Lennox, I am on the north side of the base with Dr Harding.’ Optimus reported. ‘Calling all Autobots to my position. Calling all Autobots.’

     The ground began shake and Optimus made sure to stand in front of me, ready for whatever was coming. I could hear the sounds of Lennox gathering a team to come and get me, but it wouldn’t be quick enough.

     ‘Optimus, what can I do?’ I asked, knowing I couldn’t just stand idly by and do nothing.

     ‘Run.’ He growled, his face guard snapping into place as he prepared to fight whatever was coming our way.

      The second he spoke I could see something burrowing through the ground towards us. I did as I was told and began running towards the road Optimus had driven up earlier that evening.

     The Decepticon burst out of the ground towards Optimus, who caught it in one hand and began fighting with the fish like creature. It was like a large trout with arms and legs and snapped it’s jaw around Optimus’s arm, making him cry out.

     I stopped running, not knowing how far away back up was. I couldn’t just leave him to fight alone. The Decepticon had wriggled out of Optimus’s grasp and bitten his leg hard enough to make him fall, it was going for his face next. I found the nearest thing I could which was a broken tree branch and threw it as hard as I could at the Decepticon.

     ‘Hey!’ I yelled as I threw it. ‘Over here!’

     The Decepticon’s red eyes slowly found me, and I knew immediately it was a bad idea. I started backing away, before breaking out into a run. I wasn’t quick enough to get away, but there was a small crevice where I could crawl into and remain safe until back up came.

     ‘Jane!’ I heard Optimus yell as I turned to see the small opening and slid inside. The Decepticon was much closer than I realised and began snapping it’s jaws, trying to get at me. Rocks were breaking off around me and I knew it would be on me in no time at all. I was trapped and about to be killed, this just wasn’t the first date I thought it would be.

     ‘Optimus!’ I screamed.

     As soon as his name left my lips, the Decepticon was being dragged away by Optimus who had managed to pick himself up enough to follow behind me. I watched as Optimus Prime, the legendary leader of the Autobots held the Decepticon’s head and tail, stripping out it’s insides and killing it instantly.

     I watched him then fall to the floor, holding his leg which looked pretty beaten up.

     ‘Optimus.’ I scrambled to my feet and darted out of my hiding place to check he was okay. ‘Are you alright?’

     ‘I am fine.’ He panted. ‘Are you injured?’

     ‘No, no.’ I said, doing a quick check. ‘I think I’m alright.’

     The ground began shaking again, light was coming from the road behind us and Optimus was beginning to get to his feet once again.

     ‘I will not ask again.’ He growled. ‘Run.’

     Another Decepticon burst out from the ground, just as it did, Bumblebee, Hound and Drift all charged to Optimus’s position. I began backing away, still unsure of if I should have left.

     Hound had positioned himself to protect me from any incoming Decepticons, while Optimus continued to fight on the front lines. I’d never seen a real fight before, not least between Autobots and Decepticons; it was violent and terrifying, and another realisation hit. Not only would I be climbing an impossible amount, but I would be doing it in the middle of a warzone. It might not have been the climb that killed me in the end.

     ‘Harding!’ Lennox yelled from Ironhide’s transformed state. ‘Get back here!’ I did as I was told and ran back towards the soldiers who began firing. Ironhide transformed and joined Optimus in the fight.

     ‘She’s safe, Optimus.’ He yelled as he grabbed a Decepticon off of Bumblebee and stripped it apart. ‘We’ve got this. Bumblebee go!’

     Bumblebee began running back to Lennox’s position and without any warning, he scooped me up and transformed into the familiar yellow Camaro. He drove me back to the base, but I couldn’t help but look back at the fighting.

     ‘He’ll be okay.’ Bumblebee said through his broken radio.

     ‘Where did they come from?’ I panted, feeling my heart pounding out of my chest.

     ‘No idea.’

     Bumblebee dropped me back outside my quarters, but I needed a minute to breathe.

     ‘What’s happening? Where are they?’ I demanded.

     He transformed into his natural form and tried to calm me. ‘It’s okay, they’re coming back now. Just try to stay calm.’

     ‘Okay.’ I nodded. ‘Okay.’ I repeated, taking slow, deep breaths and looking to the hill side where Optimus was being helped back by Hound and Ironhide. He looked like he was in pretty bad shape, and I couldn’t help but wonder if my being there had been a distraction more than a help.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[dark-frosted-heart]

I Want to Know Every Inch of You - Roger Barel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Roger: Oh, you already collected quite a bit.

Kate: All that’s left is you, Roger.

I show Roger the data I collected for Crown’s measurements.The other day, Victor asked me to go to everyone and I’ve been getting to them one after another.

Roger: It’s pretty detailed. It’ll be useful for researching curses. 

Satisfied with the documents, Roger pats my head.

Roger: Well then, let’s get to my measurements.

Kate: Right. Now if you’ll excuse me.

I place the measuring tape against Roger when he removes his vest.

Roger: Oh? You’re pretty good at that.

Kate: I’ve been measuring the others so I’ve got experience.

(Anyway…Roger’s really muscular)

I was aware of his physique before he removed his vest, but it’s even more noticeable when he’s lightly dressed. Not just his abs, but his neck, shoulders, and back muscles are well-defined too.

(When do you use these muscles…)

I manage to finish taking his measurements despite being distracted by his burliness.

Kate: Next up is asking about your medical history. How much do you drink in a week?

Roger: Hmm…About this much?

Roger took a pen and filled in his response.

Kate: That much in a week?! Feels like a lot…

Roger: They say that good wine makes good blood, you know?

Kate: Only when it’s in moderation though? Sigh, next…the amount of sleep you get.

Roger: Sometimes emergencies come up or I have an assignment for Crown. And when I’m doing research, I don’t wanna interrupt it by sleeping. Well…You can say I sleep when I can.

Kate: …

Roger: You look like you got something to say but don’t wanna say it. 

Kate: I’d like you to go to bed at a reasonable hour and get a good night’s sleep. But… I know that everything you do’s important. So I can’t scold you for it.

Roger: Is that so…

Kate: But, physician, heal thyself…So please take care of your health as much as possible, okay? Please be especially careful not to drink too much. If you don’t take care of your body, you’ll get weaker and weaker.

Roger: I’ll get weaker, huh?...How ‘bout we measure that too?

Kate: Measure what- Eep! Suddenly, an arm wraps under my butt and lifts me up with ease.

(Ah, so that’s when he uses those muscles…Wait, that’s not what I meant)

Kate: W-what are you doing! Put me down!

Even when I kick my feet, they don’t touch the ground and all I hit is air.

Roger: Hey now, stop struggling. Want me to drop you? Since you were worried, I thought I’d test my strength.

Roger casually walks around the infirmary with me on his arm.

Kate: …

Afraid of falling, I wrapped my arms around Roger’s neck and he laughed in amusement.

Roger: Not bad with one woman. Well…should I test lung capacity next?

Roger lowers me down on a bed and then pushes me back. 

Roger: No breathing through the nose…

Kate: Nn…

Our lips meet and he kisses me deeply. 

(Definitely a weird way to measure!)

Kate: Mmph…Nnnn

I slapped his chest in an attempt to resist, but he wouldn't budge.Rather, the grip on my shoulders tightened, as if chiding me for my actions.

Kate: …~~!

When I finally started to have trouble breathing, I glared at Roger. There was amusement in his eyes behind those glasses and our lips finally parted. 

Roger: Giving up? Wouldn’t it be better if you strengthened yourself instead of worrying ‘bout me?  

Kate: It doesn’t make sense to measure lung capacity in such a strange way.

Roger: I think it’s standard. Now then, let’s finally measure endurance. 

Kate: Endurance…

Roger: We can use how many times we go at it to measure. Don’t think it’ll be too accurate though since you’ll probably get worn out before me.

Roger lifts one of my legs and sets it on his shoulder.I knew what he was getting at without having to ask.

Roger: So, what do you wanna do?

I couldn’t break eye contact from Roger who was like a predator before his prey.

Kate: I’m just worried about you, Roger…

Roger: So why don’t we just check whether I’m healthy or not using your body? I’m curious about you too.

After that, Roger brings my leg to his lips.

Kate: W-what…

Roger: Hm? Just a taste.

Roger’s tongue glides along the skin of my inner thigh.

Kate: Ah…

It tickles, but I also feel heat build up in my lower abdomen. It was like my body was anticipating the stimulation.

Roger: Done resisting? Then I’ll keep going.

Kate: …I surrender! I know now. We don’t need to question your stamina…

Roger: Haha! You’re so honest.

While laughing happily, Roger finally lowers my leg onto the bed.

(Phew, that was close…)

Roger: You can take my booze away when you eat with me, and manage my sleep schedule by sleeping with me. If you’re worried about my body, then keep an eye on me 24/7. 

Kate: I’m good! You’re a grown man, so please take care of yourself. 

Roger: Haha. You’re no fun.

(It’s so frustrating how Roger teases me all the time) (But what’s worse is that…Roger only does that to me)

[captainmera]

Uhhhhhhhh

Do you happen to have a tut on how you draw your little poses? Like when you draw you? This is like a very weird question but I am in dire need of help with poses and I absolutely adore all the ways you draw them (and just in general)

Totally fine if not though,😭🫶

STEP.1: draw head.

STEP.2: choose an expression and then draw what you want the hands to be doing/gesturing. (think body language and emotion)

STEP.3: draw body as quick and flimsily as you can using lines in the shape of only C's S's and I's.

if you look at most of my quick sketches or doodles, a lot of the lines are just wonky CSI's, it's called the CSI-method. As a comic artist you just wanna communicate a pose as best as possible without lingering too much. At least if you do full colour + background + character designs + camera work + storytelling + and + and + lots of things... You don't have the time, you just wanna get to next page, tell the story.

And, like...... Allow yourself to draw crappy once in awhile and post it anyway. Idk if you've read my webcomic but there are very obvious pages where it's like WOAH MAMA THAT'S EFFORT and then there are pages where they all look like muppets. But it also makes the cool pages look even more BAMF thanks to it, it gives everything a nice melody and bounce from page to page.

I am inconsistent and I use that to my benefit by leaning into it and letting it punch emotion home more.

it's about communicating a feeling, I think, rather than always being accurate.

I am actually-- really, really, bad at dynamic poses and camera work. Like, legit super bad at it. I bullshit everything, lmao;;; I encourage anyone to also bullshit, and use references if you want! Like go! Whatever makes it fun and less stressful.

see? it's all nonsense but it looked nice anyway haha!

I didn't really consider perspective or anything, I'm trying to teach myself to draw from different angles and it's hard because I like my face-forward-camera lol. But I was focusing more on framing:

so that colours and shadows highlight the scene, so I can say more with one panel than I could with words. It's about the CINEMA~~!

Or, if you close your eyes and then open them. Where does your eyes go? That's the flow of your art. Sometimes it goes in different directions, but there will be key areas your eyes are drawn to. In this image, Hunter will most likely be first, Good! And then secondly Camila, also good! ... Sometimes it's the pizza as second, less good but it still works.

MY POINT IS

THE POINT IIISSSSSS---!!

As long as you have fun playing around with it, you'll learn from it. Don't hate the process, learn from it. If you just relax it'll definitely look better anyway.

My fanart looks better than my serious stuff sometimes lmao, because I put too much pressure on a perfect finish and that just works against the grain of what I'm actually, like, good at doing.

I AM JUST SAYING WHAT WORKS FOR ME.

You should absolutely study backgrounds and perspective and anatomy!

I'm just saying that, like...... It's okay if it isn't perfect. You wont die, people will like it, you'll like it. It's OKAY.

idk if this is what you asked for but I hope it helped.

[icallhimjoey]

ok now that you just did that rather sad fic a minute ago could you do one where reader and joey are actually trying for a baby? you can take it whatever way you want but preferably fluffy and happy ok love u ur an amazing writer

pumped this one out FAST, hope you enjoy babe wordcount: 0.8K ----------   

 Actually Pregnant

    Joe had placed two heavy bags of shopping on the counter and was making his way through them, putting everything away in it's place. He’d picked up things he thought pregnant women needed, all his knowledge of the subject just from film and media he'd picked up throughout his life. None of it accurate, researched or even just asked. It was a huge assortment of jars of pickles (several kinds), lemons and oranges, different types of cheeses, olives and lots of chocolate.    "What is it you want- what is it you need?" Joe held up a bar of chocolate and a jar of olives, motioning for you to make a decision, his eyebrows raised high in question.

  "Oh my God, Joey," you peeked into one of the bags and smiled through a pout. "You know I have to actually be pregnant to have cravings."    Joe frowned his brow and nodded. "Of course," he said, like it was obvious to him and he'd known this information when he had whizzed through Waitrose half an hour ago. Obviously, he hadn't known. And you thought it was possibly the cutest thing Joe had ever done for you.      Joe kept going, placing pots and jars far back into the fridge. "So we'll have it ready for when you will be."     You hugged him from behind as he twisted jars so the labels would be facing out. "What if I'm one of those crazy women who craves something insane, like soil? Or clay?"    Joe swung an arm over your head and twisted in your arms. "I'll get you anything you need from the garden center, just say the word." he leant in for a quick kiss before patting your arms to let go. He had more work to do.    Being in love with Joe was different from any relationship you'd been in before. Obviously, you thought. You had never considered having a baby with anyone else, but Joe had made it an effortless choice. Of course you wanted children with him. Being with Joe felt like babysitting a kitten: it was adorable, and fun, and exciting. And you wanted to love him and squeeze him every second of every minute of every day. It felt like being lost on the right way somehow, and you loved every moment of it.     It had only been a few weeks after you'd decided to actively start trying for a baby. You'd been a little apprehensive, careful, because you knew it could take a while. You might not be as lucky, things could easily go wrong before they'd go right.    Not Joseph. He'd dived in head first and had surprised you with an empty room, completely cleared out, to make space for a crib. He kept sending you baby names through text all day, and his hands would barely leave your body when you both got home from work at the end of the day. After sex, Joe had always been the sweetest, but the care he gave you now was something else. He had read that gravity could do something to help, so he'd place you with your feet up against the headboard and pillows under your butt to hoist you up. And sleeping on your left side was better than any other sleeping position, he had heard somewhere. "It helps blood flow to your placenta." Joe said, like he had any real knowledge of the subject, and so he'd push you over in your sleep if he found you sleeping on your right.     "Pickle?" Joe had opened a jar. "These are nice without cravings too." Joe took one out and had a bite himself before holding it out to you. Sure, why not. You took it and ate the rest when you saw Joe reach into a nearly empty bag and pull out handfulls of pregnancy tests.     "I got all the different kinds they had." Joe piled them all together before taking one to read the box. Then he handed it to you. "Do one now." big puppy eyes stared you down excitedly.     "Joe, I'm not going to be pregnant yet."    "So? Do one anyway. What if you are?" he nudged you with the cardboard packet.   "I won't be!" you tried, trying to spare yourselves a disappointment.    "Do one for practice!" Joe reached for your hand and placed the box in there, wrapping your fingers 'round it. You tried to remember if there was a time in your life where you had loved him more.    "I've had too many a scary moment in my late teens early twenties to need any practice," you scoffed before handing Joe the test back and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Your boyfriend was adorable.    "Let's not waste these until we think I'm actually pregnant, all right?"     Joe looked at you for a second, eyes wandering down to your stomach before looking back up again. And then, as if somehow he was the strongest man in the world, he hauled you over his shoulder like you didn't weigh anything.    "So let's get you actually pregnant, all right?"   

[llondonfog]

This is such a weird, RANDOM, and long ask (more like a rant tbh), but I wanted to say something because I can't get it out of my head.

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL SILVER.

Before you boo me, I COULDN'T HELP IT. I just, can't get it out of my brain.

Like, Lilia just wakes up one day, sees this mini horror in Silver's bedroom, and freaks out before realizing that IS Silver.

Everything he knew about Silver's parents is a lie.

Then, Silver transforms back, but part way, so he has these cute little wings with soft, white feathers, and Lilia just MELTS.

He's freaked out, amazed, confused, but he wants to comfort Silver, who is both confused and possibly in pain from the transformation. Growing wings seems painful.

Like, he had 6 wings (3 sets of 2) in the horror-fest form that is a Biblically Accurate Angel (I both encourage and warn you against searching that up lol), and now he has 2-4 wings (possibly with the feathers attached to his head as Seraphim Angels have. I think). Compared to his default human body, that's a big difference, right?

Anyway, I wanted to share this with someone. You don't have to do anything with this, or even respond, but THE IMAGE. I love Silver and he's already angelic, so might as well add a Horrifying version of that, AND pretty wings in the more "normal" version. I just can't write or draw my vision LMAO so I have to cope with sharing it instead.

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL SILVER IM IN LOVE????

BABY SILVER WITH BABY ANGEL WINGS!!! oh they are so soft and fluffy, like dreams and clouds and silk all at once!! the imagery of him draping them over lilia while they nap or simply shielding him from the sun with one as he gets older....my heart!!!

And then considering the imagery of extremely pissed off biblically accurate silver protecting his loved ones against any who would seek to bring them harm!!! Absolutely terrifying to behold!! I don't know why I'm partial to the specific one of the large eye surrounded by countless wings but that's what I think of!! All those wings to sweep up and protect his loved ones, and more to deal out powerful blows of damage, with one dizzying aurora-hued eye that can seem like the most gentle gaze that allows you to simply bask in unconditional acceptance or the most horrific choking sense of inevitable judgement for what you've done against the word of good.

FANTASTIC CONCEPT I WISH I COULD DRAW IT

on the other hand, the thought of lilia being in such awe and wonder of his child, this pure and innocent being who has been granted to him, who loves him unconditionally and uses his powers to make lilia's life kinder and easier as silver tries to take away the aches and pains and nightmares... I could see it verging into a cult of two territory; lilia being very protective and possessive of his son, the thought of throwing himself into service to protect the boy?angel?savior? at any and all costs, to be his knight in shining armor to keep him safe and unsullied from the world. silver becoming like this odd forest deity creature who pours his magic so willingly into the woods and gives freely to those that need his kindness, and his father is only too happy to kneel to him, renewed in his purpose to serve his benevolent, angelic son...

[ebonysplendor]

The Science of Staying Awake Review 👁️

TL;DR: Sleep is often for the weak, but having, what is likely but claims not to be, a hallucination being violently in love with you is something that is not for the weak. Apparently, it's not for the living either...

Game Link: https://viscereye.itch.io/the-science-of-staying-awake

Notable Features: Gender Neutral MC, Unnamed MC (referred as "You"), Yandere LI, Choice-heavy storyline Spiciness: 0/5 -- Not exactly wholesome because violence but no option to buss it open so no spice LI Red Flags: 1.7/5 -- Physically abusive, Crosses boundaries...other than that, he be's a touch starved boi who just wants cuddles

Wanna know more? Well, let's get into it!

Before I say anything, I just want you to read this:

Let me tell you, I had no idea how accurate that description was until I played it. That is a damned accurate description, and quite frankly, the only way to describe the experience that this was.

Anyways, I had ran across it when going through my game files, and I was like "Oh yeah! This game exists!" and decided to write a review on this one. I played this game many moons ago, and frankly, I don't see many people talking about or referencing this one; I honestly feel like more people should know about it, because there is a game to be played here. I mean, how many people are actually going to run across this review, I have no idea, but shit, hopefully it'll get a few extra downloads, because as "cheesy" as it may look, this was actually a pretty damn good game!

Honestly (and respectfully) speaking, you know how you look at a game, and you're like "This is probably going to be bad, but I'm curious"? From looking at the backgrounds they used, the description itself, and how they described the game as "cheesy" and a "creepypasta fanfic", I honestly thought this was supposed to be one of those "intentionally bad but funny as hell" games for jokes, but...yeah, no. If it was meant to be that way, I didn't get that at all.

I'll explain more in the actual review portion, but I'm going to go ahead and cut to the chase. As always, I give you the disclaimer that -- and those that have been vibing with me since the start of all of this already know -- I'm going to tell you as much as possible about the game without ruining the game itself.

Just as a side note, I think I do say that verbatim every time I write a review -- between that, "so boom", and the whole "drink water, don't be dumb" thing lol. I might switch it up one day, but that's honestly how I talk in real life. Like, can you not tell that I type the way that I speak? I mean, if it was something for college or work or something, yeah, I'm going to code switch, obvi, but for stuff like this? I'm pretty much talkin' to y'all like y'all are the squad because...well, y'all are lol.

Anyways! Enough chitchat, let's get summarizing.

So, boom (lmao ya see?).

We're in class, and we're tired as fook. Like, it's not even that "Damn, this class is boring" type of tired; it's that "I deadass haven't slept in 2 days, and I'm starting to hear colors and see sounds" type of tired. That "Ayo, why does this hard ass desk feel mad comfortable all of a sudden" type of tired. That plain and simple "a bitch is TIDE not tired" type of tired. Anyways, we recognize this as a current problem, and we know that we've gotta do something about it. Expeditiously. So, we hit up the vending machine, get something to wake us up a little, and then head on home.

When I say that it took everything to get up those stairs and to our bedroom...listen.

Like, as soon as we got through the door, we dropped that backpack to the floor, and we dive -- you hear me, dive -- into that bed. Now, with the way that we were feeling, dreamland should've been immediate. To be real with you, we were probably asleep by the time we were mid-air, but like, when we landed, we landed on something, and this something -- or rather someone -- goes "Ow". Like huuuuuuuh?

Again: Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuh? Fuck you mean, "Ow?" Like who the hell is yooooooooou?!

No, like, we literally ask who he -- ...it? --- is, because clearly, he was not here when we left, let alone just chilling in our bed, but he's just super casual about it, like, "Oh! I'm Vance!". Like, oh, right, Vance; that suddenly makes this whole situation totally normal and nothing to worry about -- as if that were even slightly true.

Here's the thing though, oddly enough, it actually is kind've true. See, we're not scared of him as a...whatever he is, but something about him is just...not right; something is very clearly off. Like, when he had introduced himself, he had shook our hand, and we immediately got this mad intense feeling of dread that we couldn't describe, and something about it just kind've made us feel like we were, quite literally, spiraling into insanity.

Naturally, we pull ourselves away from him and step back -- that spiraling feeling and anxiety is instantly gone. As you've probably guessed, it didn't take us long to put together that it's not good for this "Vance" creature to be too close in proximity, let alone anywhere near us.

He kind've picks up on this, and he's adamant that he's not going to hurt us. Still, we try to explain to him that, while we're not really threatened by him, we get this weirdly intense feeling whenever he's nearby, and he essentially needs to stay a little more than an arm's length away at all times; frankly, the further away, the better. Well...

He didn't take that well, and now, we feel threatened by him.

I hadn't mentioned this before, but Vance was already pretty upset that we wouldn't really let him come near us, let alone cuddle with him, but now he's extra pissed because we're essentially rejecting him altogether, even though he's, quite literally, driving us insane.

So, now that he's like this, we've got to get the hell out of there because, now, we aren't sure if he's still on the whole "I'm not going to hurt you" energy like before. That being said, we completely bolt, and he's like "Nah, bring that ass here, boi". Panic. Big panic time.

So, we do. We run off, but it does no good, because he finds us.

Granted, he doesn't know exactly where we are, but it doesn't matter because we're completely cornered. What are we going to do?

Well, let me rephrase that I know what I'm going to do; better yet, I know what I did. Now you guys on the other hand? Lol, I'll guess you'll have to play it for yourself to see what y'all are going to do.

I had honestly forgotten how good this game was until I had replayed it to grab some screenshots and to get a refresher on what actually went down. I'm not even kidding about that. My love for the game had literally re-sparked, and I can't believe that I forgot how good it was. If you've read my past reviews, you know that I mentioned at one point that I become an absolute slut for a choice-heavy game -- this is a choice heavy game and a damned good one. Speaking of choice-heavy...

Just to get off topic very slightly, you know what was crazy? When I went to replay it, apparently, I had done something different than when I had first played though the game and lmaoooooo, do you know that I had ended up finding THREE more endings? Wanna know something even crazier? One of them was a secret ending that I didn't even realize that I had gotten to!

Now mind you (lol you know the story is about to get a lil' spicy when that's said)! I had already unlocked like...if I remember right, like, 14 endings at this point, so when I found these other endings -- again, by total accident because, at this point, damn the review! I'm legit replaying the game for me, now -- I was now sitting at a grand total of 17 endings. So, now, I'm like "Ayo, what the hell?". Like, my mind is blown, because I was so sure that I had found all of the endings and completed the game. Remember, I hadn't touched or thought about this game in literal months because I was that confident that I had finished it. So, it's like, how many endings are there if I'm still managing to find more?

Naturally, I sprint to the dev's game page to conduct research on this burning question, and I am reading everything that there is to offer, but there was nothing. No "hey, this game has x amount of endings", no walkthrough map, no nothing. Did that stop me, though? Nah, because surely someone had experienced something similar to what I just had and was also like "Damn, how many endings are there...?". Lmaooooo well, I was right. You know what the answer is?

19. There are nineteen endings in this game.

I already knew the answer, but I go back to count the amount of endings that I have; there's 17. I dig into the game files for some more hints, and I find two icons (you'll know what I mean when you play it) that I've never seen before. Oh, okay. So, it's confirmed, but let me make sure that I've got the details straight:

Are you seriously telling me that, not only had I incorrectly assumed that I had all of the endings and finished the game because I had gotten all of the achievements, but the fact that I found three other endings -- again, by accident! -- doesn't even matter because I'm still missing two more because there's NINETEEN ENDINGS total?!

Wild. Chaotic even, and you're damn right that I'm here for it all. I LOVE that there are so many endings. I love even more that I have other endings to look for because I'm totally in love with this game all over again. Even though, lol, it was the deadpan, nonchalant "19" from the dev for me. The dev said "I said what I said, and what about it?". We love to see it.

Anyways, I'm a huge advocate for this game. If you've got some time, definitely give it a try. I highly recommended, and Vance is a pretty sweet dude, if you can find that side of him, I mean. Also, just for a very light spoiler but not really, the real ending was so sweet to me. Like something about it, it just...I don't know. It was just a warm feeling that washed over me when I had read it, and I was just like "That was actually really cute?" Bittersweet, even. Like, ugh, I am honestly really pushing for more people to play this game. It was genuinely so good, and I hope that the dev comes out with more visual novels. I truly forgot how in love with this game I was until I replayed it. This has, highkey, been a great experience.

Anywho, it's time that I stop my rambling and end it here. If you'd like to give this game a go for yourself and discover all 🌟nineteen🌟 endings -- which I highly recommend that you do -- a link to the game is at the very bottom of this post as well as at the very top. Hell, I'll even put the link right here so you can get to it quicker. If you're feeling extra motivated, visit the dev's page and post a comment telling them how great of a job they did and give them that extra validation to let them know "Hey! You're pretty good at what you do! You should keep doing the thing!". I didn't see where you could donate to them, but assuming I just missed it, remember that monetary validation is always helpful as well.

That's all from me though! Drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

The Science of Staying Awake