#barfing at those bitches

[cerealmonster15]

ok lore updated for this bitch

like half of it is just relationship drama which is EMBARRASSING but i mean. what else am i here for really. the other stuff is way harder to explain but god i tried!!!!

[apyrrambles]

fyi if you aren't aromantic and you ship a character who's aromantic with another character it's an instant block. ESPECIALLY when it's an abusive relationship. Gross

[cheesecake-beech]

HEY BROS I'm in the mood to draw some hello kitty shit or even mario n MIIS FROM WII SPORTS/RESORT 😩😩😩 I'm prolly gonna go draw pictures and pictures of Matt AKJFHASJFSHADFGS/j I promise I'm still gonna do the ones in my inbox (like 2-4 lmao) But I'm in the mood for other things rn

I recently quite LITERALLY lost a friend because he realized I wasn't willing to draw for him for free anymore (r/choosingbeggars amirite?) and he literally wanted 10 drawings from me and 💀 that clown was deadass being a little disrespectful when we were in Client and Artist conversations. But when I told him I wouldn't do it for free and to message someone else clown straight up blocked me 🤡. But I wasn't upset? More relieved actually? Felt as though a HUGEASS weight was lifted from my shoulders because that creep was starting to get on my nerves 😭 made me SUUPER uncomfortable at times and deadass would only look at women and talk abt women because dude was begging for the frickle frackle 🤡🤡🤡 League of Legends players am I right?

BUT SINCE IM FREE OF THAT BURDEN NOW!! No longer having to worry about his DMs n shit, I'd like to spend my time drawing and doing other shit. haha Any requests or smthin? :O

[trashbaget]

i feel so fucking ILL!!!

[babisawyer]

so painful knowing that I have the stomach of an 85 year old man.

[leaderwonim]

smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.

pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader

summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.

author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!

Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.

“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”

“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”

Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.

“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.

“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”

“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.

“Why do you care so much Won?”

“I don’t.”

It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.

Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.

When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.

He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.

You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.

Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.

“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”

Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.

You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.

“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.

You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.

“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”

You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.

Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.

It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.

“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.

“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.

“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”

“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”

“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”

Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”

Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”

“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.

“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.

“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”

Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.

[savingcrxws]

eyes on fire | carmen berzatto headcanon

carmen berzatto x ex!reader (but not for long...)

warnings. language, mentions of suicide & death (mikey)

authors note. thinking of turning this into a fic but i just wanted to get these thoughts thrown onto a page for now | EDIT 7/7: ITS A FIC! HERES PART ONE

you hated carmen berzatto, to say the least

you had been each others first s/o and spent a lot of the end of your teenage years attached at the hip

every berzatto family function (no matter how messy they always ended), every school dance, every hell's kitchen rerun--you and carmy were together

mikey liked to call you guys soulmates, watching how you and carmy just seemed to click like that- a statement that never failed to make carmy go flush in the face (que richie faking barfing in the background)

you were one of the first people that carmen told about his wishes for the future-how he wanted to take up the restaurant with his brother and continue the berzatto tradition

you loved the way his eyes lit up when he talked about cooking with his family-the way he gave his all into his aspirations

"well you gotta make sure i'm the first one to eat those fancy sounding dishes when you start working at the beef, carm"

"absolutely, babe. i wouldn't have it any other way"

however, like everyone after high school, you and carmy hit a rough patch that sunk your relationship -- you were planning to go to college for business administration and carmy was leaving chicago to go to culinary school

you two definitely attempted everything in your power to stay together-late night skype calls, daily texts, hell you even offered to fly to new york to spend time together

but the more swamped you got with school and the more carmen got slammed with cooking (especially right before he went of to Noma), the more the truth begun to show itself

the breakup was messy, because it was less a breakup and more of ...

you: what are we doing right now? like, as a couple?

carmen: i think that i need to focus more on my career right now

you: oh, so..are we breaking up right now? (read 9:57PM)

you: carmen? (read 10:15)

you: ok, asshole, be that way (delivered)

that's right, that motherfucker ghosted you

despite the tumultuous ending of you and carmen's relationship, you were still close to sugar and mikey (and, unfortunately for you, richie)

sugar was adamant on flying over to copenhagen and have a "conversation" with her brother herself + mikey and richie were not too far behind on the cause

"it's fine guys. let's just all agree that carmen is a soft little bitch" you said, trying to lighten the mood even though you knew that you were still racking thru the pain being broken up with so suddenly

you deal with the breakup harshly at first, but you put a lot of that emotion towards your own growth

fast forward a couple years, you graduated college and are on the up-and-up in chicago as a successful business marketing manager

you get closer to the berzattos, strangely, as carmy gets more distant

you don't think of carmy much anymore but it grows harder as he wins awards and recognitions in his field that honestly make you..proud, in strange way

then, mikey dies...and a lot of things change for you

you help sugar and richie plan the funeral, and something sour sinks into your stomach when you don't see that familiar head of dirty blonde hair during the service

some months pass and you try to gather yourself and get back to normal after mikey's passing

richie invites you down to the beef one day to "catch up" randomly

you go, if not to just see tina and the rest of the crew but are met with great surprise when you see him

carmen motherfucking berzatto, in the flesh, standing behind the bar yelling to richie about something nonsensical

he stops yelling when he hears the door open and literally freezes in place when he sees you

you stare at him for a second, taking in the man who once had your heart, noting the new tattoos and the new way he styled his hair and he seems to be doing the same

then, richie breaks the silence--"oh my goodness, what are you doing here, sweetheart?"

you and carmy speak at the same time

"richie, you motherfucker"

"richie, you dick"

[sadesluvr]

The Hills (Part One)

JJ hates his menial job, but there’s a certain customer he lusts and loathes in particular.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: This is based off of my Poolboy! JJ idea, and mean girl! Reader was the most popular (I'll probably write for a Housewife! Reader too though) This is my first time writing for OBX, but I’ve been meaning to put this out for a while🤭…I have ALOT more scenarios to play with, so this will be Part I of 3, but can also work as a one shot if I get lazy. 

Not fully proofread, so sorry for mistakes!

Enjoy, and minors DNI.

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: SMUT / Poolboy! JJ / Mean!Kook! Reader / Degradation / Hatefucking / Teasing / LOTS of sexual tension / Unprotected sex / Light biting / JJ is feral and a little scary but it’s hot / Creampies

“Halle, grab the middle one would you? That way I can see Daddy on the golf course,”

Barf. JJ already knew what time it was.

For a girl who had it all, your life was rather methodical. You and your two friends would strut to the pool at 2PM on a Saturday, straight after your one o’clock tennis lesson and hours before you’d be whisked off to some fancy restaurant for dinner. That was your life, which, on multiple occasions, he’d heard you describe as “totally unfair”.

Sarah Cameron may have been the Kook Princess, but you were very well next in line. You were always draped in some kind of designer; was never one to miss a manicure, and kept yourself camera ready, as if there were a paparazzi around you. Still, you may as well have been, as you had all the friends, lovers and admirers a celebrity would’ve had.

However, you seemed to lack one special, but huge thing - basic fucking decency. 

In short, you were a bitch. 

And there was no one you were a bigger bitch to than JJ.

He never believed in your false virginal, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ spiel, and with good reason. You were snide, ungrateful, and had never even said as much as a ‘Thank you’ to him. 

Once, you’d even managed to ’accidentally’ spill a drink on him.

Without a doubt, today was going to be one of those days.

“Hey, poolboy? We’ve been here for ages and you haven’t even gotten us an umbrella. Do you want me to fucking die?” you scoffed, brow raised expectedly as your two friends, Bree and Halle and snickered beside you. 

“Chill out, ‘kay?” JJ said, rolling his eyes. “They’re in the same place they usually are. It’s not like you can’t do it yourself,”

“Do I look like a slave? Fetching umbrellas is what you get paid to do. Now hurry up and get us some Margaritas while you’re at it,” you said sweetly, a fake smile plastered over your face as you waved a hand dismissively.

Clenching his jaw, JJ was about to retort when one of his seniors, a middle aged man rather indistinguishable from the rest, intervened.

“Is there a problem here ma’am?”

“I don’t know, JJ,” you retorted pointedly, his name laced in venom as you spoke. And yes, you did know his name. Poolboy just rolled off of the tongue better. “Do we have a problem?”

Wincing, the blonde ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head.

“Nah,” he said through gritted teeth. “None at all.” 

He disappeared with a click of his tongue, blatantly aware of your smirk as you peeled off your scarf that hugged your waist. The lacy fabric danced off of your body to expose your torso and bare legs, glistening in the summer heat like a mirage in the middle of a desert.

As JJ clenched his fists, he couldn’t ignore the similar tightening sensation in his shorts, and quickly readjusted himself. 

He just couldn’t give you that kind of satisfaction.

Not for now, at least.

“Yikes, I know her —“

“—How could you not?”

“So Pope’s one of her groupies…Got it.”

“I am not one of her ‘groupies’, okay? She’s got the whole island palm of her hand. Of course I’d know of her!”

“Whatever…Groupie,”

The Pogues were sitting at the Chateau, forced to listen to JJ’s rant about ‘Little Miss Brat’ from the country club. It was obvious to all of them that JJ, though not quite yet in love, certainly had a crush, information that was particularly striking to Sarah.

“I totally know what she’s about,” Sarah said lazily, tossing her hair. “Rich, pretty, all round self proclaimed bitch…No wonder my brother has this huge crush on her,”

JJ blinked and pursed his lips. The mention of the Kook king was triggering enough, but more so that he was infringing onto Kook territory far more than he expected.

“Rafe’s into her?”

“Big time,” she shrugged. “She’s never paid him any time of day, though. ‘Could probably do better anyways…”

JJ clicked his tongue, and began to rapidly drum his fingers on the windowsill. He couldn’t help but smile as he gazed out onto the greenery, and his leg bounced in tune to the made up beat. 

“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?” Pope said quietly from across the room.

“What?!” he said, turning to the rest of the group, hands raised in defence. “You really think I’m gonna be stupid?”

“When are you not stupid?” Kie said flatly, to which Sarah nodded.

“Not much faith in you, buddy,” John B added.

“Wow, thanks guys,” the blonde said sarcastically, climbing to his feet and heading towards the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna smoke. Feel free to join me once you’re done with the dogpilling, ‘aight?”

He couldn’t wait for Saturday.

To his surprise, you’d shown up that weekend with relatively no fanfare. You were sitting in the same spot, dressed in your signature swimwear, with a short floral sarong clinging to your waist. Large sunglasses shielded your eyes as you basked in the rays, something that JJ was all too happy to interrupt.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Fortune…Where’s your entourage? Have they finally come to their senses and ditched you?” he said, stepping in front of you to block the light, eyeing the empty sunbeds on either side of you. 

You didn’t flinch.

“Shut up JJ, I’m not in the fucking mood,” you snapped, before waving a hand dismissively. “Just get me my usual,”

The boy grinned.

“So you do know my name? Or was that a recent development…?”

Scoffing, you pulled your glasses down to your nose before smiling at him sweetly.

“Of course I know your name,” you purred. “How else would I be able to make a complaint to your boss?” you finished with a shrug.

“My boss?” He choked. “What the hell do you want to speak to him for?”

“Don’t play dumb, Maybank,” you continued, gracefully swinging your legs to the floor and swiftly standing up. As you did, your breasts bounced slightly, a sight that came second only to the sight of your hips moving as you began to walk back into the building.

JJ furrowed his brows, swiping a tongue over his lips subconsciously as he followed you.

“I’ve seen you checking me out,” you hummed, side eyeing the way the blonde stalked you through the corridors. “I’m pretty sure that’s sexual harassment,”

“Jesus - fuck - you’re such a bitch, you know that?” he sighed frustratedly, running his hands through his hair.  As you neared the opposite end of the hall; just around a corner by a supplies room, you stopped, turned and smirked as you faced him. 

There was no denying that he was sexy when he was angry; with his hair becoming tousled and pointed like mini devils horns, and the passion in his blue eyes growing deeper by the minute. You were more than aware that he was no prize, but sometimes the forbidden fruit was often the sweetest.

“I mean, how do you wear those skimpy little tennis skirts and swimsuits and not expect any guy to look?” he said, exasperated, but the rigidity of his body told you otherwise.

“So you don’t deny it?” you grinned. “Interesting…”

JJ let out a loud sigh.

“Look, not that it matters to you, but I can’t fucking lose this job. I’m already on thin ice,” he said, suddenly grabbing your arm as if he were about to throttle you. His firm grip and his equally stern voice sent a tingle down your spine and eventually pooled in your loins. It certainly wasn’t the aircon that was giving you goosebumps.

You scoffed and pulled your hand away, making JJ bite his lip.

“That’s not my problem!” you spat, beginning to walk away when JJ stopped you again, this time cornering you up against a door. You blinked as he wedged you between the surface and his toned arms, one leg brushing dangerously against your own to keep you in position as his pelvis was pointed towards your own. Trembling, a raspy voice emitted from his throat as he cautiously looked around.

You were alone. Just the two of you.

“…W-What is your problem?” he said through  gritted teeth, eyes furiously locked onto your own. “Did you break a nail? Daddy cut your allowance, huh? Haven’t been fucked in a while?”

Pausing, your brows raised slightly upwards as your lips parted at the statement. Any other guy who would’ve said that to you would have ended up with a swift kick in the balls.

The blonde chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t genuine, but out of pity.

“…So that’s it, huh?” he laughed, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek, casting your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t lost on you how a sly smugness was smeared across the boy's face, his pink lips glistening as he ran his tongue over them.

“You know, I could probably help you out with that, but I know that a guy’s gotta have a thousand dollars to —“

You cut him off by planting a swift kiss on his lips, draping your arms around his neck as you gently grazed your manicured nails across his skin. He wasted no time in pulling you in by your lower back, and you rubbed your front against his hardened cock, more than aware of the lack of material between you two.

Before he could get too cocky, you pulled away.

“If you say one goddamn word about this, not only will you be fired, but I’ll ruin whatever you and your little Pogue friends have on this island, got it?” you said, voice hushed.

JJ smirked, and saluted.

“Yes ma’am…” he snickered, and you rolled your eyes, quickly taking his hand and dragging him into the supply closet, before intertwining yourselves together again.

“Daddy’s taking me home in ten,” you breathed between kisses. “We don’t have all day.”

“Lady, I don’t want to hear about your ‘Daddy’ right now,” JJ said, lithe fingers sliding down your body to squeeze your ass, absentmindedly pressing his cock against your thighs. He wanted you; all of you, but truthfully he knew that there was one way he wanted to take you.

Mean girls deserved punishment. Mean girls deserved to be fucked like the bitches they were.

JJ let out a soft groan as you felt your way into his swim shorts, bucking his hips into your hands as you jerked his cock in a haste to put him inside of you. Pressing your back against the wall, you arched your back as you waited for him to take you…but it didn’t come.

“JJ…” you whined. “Don’t waste my fucking time…”

“Woah, there. Pretty eager, are we?” he grinned. “What makes you think we’re doing it on your terms?”

You were about to answer when JJ placed a finger to your lips, running his finger down to your chin and caressing up your jawline, holding your face still in his hands.

“Bend over.” he said, borderline emotionless, and you slowly obliged, nodding as you spun and pressed your face against the cold wall. JJ exhaled from his nose, eyes locked on your body as he stalked you, slowly kissing along your neck as he left rough love bites, tracing down to your collarbone and causing you to let out a soft, yet impassioned moan.

“JJ…You can’t do that…”

“My bad, princess,” he scoffed, pulling his lips away from the crook of your neck. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your image and all…”

He pushed your stomach against the wall, and you arched your back slightly, allowing him access to slide his fingers into your swimsuit, rubbing the outside of your folds before pushing the tip of his dick in.

JJ considered himself to be a guy who liked the fast life, but he was going to take his time with you. 

Call him cocky, but he knew this wasn’t going to be your last time.

Though he had a fairly regular girth, his cock had a decent length, and you could feel a prominent vein pulse within you as he rocked his hips in and out of your desperate cunt. His hands tightened around your hips, groping at the soft flesh of your ass through gritted teeth as he revelled in the sound of your moans.

“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet…How long have you wanted me, hm?”

“This is nothing,” you insisted, squeezing your eyes shut as you focused on the painfully pleasurable sensation. “Don’t let it get to your head, Maybank.”

“Oh, so the way you’re gripping my cock is nothing, right? Jeez, you could’ve fooled me, princess,” he laughed, biting down on his bottom lip. “What would Daddy say if he saw his Kook princess getting railed like a whore by a dirty Pogue, huh? Shit, I bet Rafe would fuckin’ lose his mind…”

Your stomach formed knots at the statement, and you felt your legs tremble as you clenched around him. His cock was hitting each and every untouched crevice perfectly; every withdrawal and thrust of his hips making you want him more. JJ was rabid; fucking you like he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to kill you or consume you. Judging by the way he pawed at your body, you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk back to the foyer (tomorrow morning was another story) without looking like you’d been in a catfight.

Mouth agape, you managed to turn your head just enough to face him - his face flushed and glassy eyed - and locked eyes before you spoke. Whether it was your biological high or something rather deeper, you were able to see the beauty in him. JJ was rugged, certainly rough around the edges, but he was beautiful.

“JJ…” you whispered. “I-I I need you to cum…”

“Already on it, m’lady,” he snickered, and angled his head to pull you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as his pace, though quick, became more shallow and disorganised - almost convulsing as he felt himself begin to come undone inside you.

JJ ran his hand through his hair, separating the clumped strands that clung to his forehead. His heavy pants soon became gentle breaths; but he didn’t let go of your body, instead beginning to trace small circles on your hips as he softened inside of you. Once the time was right, he pulled away, careful to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Although he couldn’t place it, he knew he felt different. 

PART TWO

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for telling my mom not to invite grandma to my dead dad’s birthday dinner?

For context, my (19M) dad (44M) died in January of ‘24. He was a dick and I don’t miss him, but he was my mom (46F)’s husband and I’ve been there for her through the grieving process. Unfortunately, Mom’s mother (80F) has taken over my mom’s grief and has made it about her.

For what I mean, it’s that Grandma wouldn’t let my mom stand next to my dad as he was dying in the hospital bed from jaundice and cancer, was praying very loudly that her son-in-law would get better and putting her hands all over my dad’s chest, kept comparing what my dad was going through to how her 7th husband died back in ‘09 (also cancer but not the same), and overall was just obnoxious during the worst moment of my Mom’s life.

This isn’t a new thing for grandma to do. Grandma is just a dick. She’s openly racist against Asian people, she’s stupidly Homophobic (but not towards me because I’m family and I’m ber favoritr grandkid because I’m not afraid to talk smack about people who get on my nerves. barf.), and any achievement that my Mom receives, Grandma has a story about how she won something even better.

It has gotten worse when my Mom’s dad (85M) moved in with us for health reasons. Grandpa was Grandma’s 3rd husband and their marriage didn’t end amicably. Still, it’s been 40 years and Mom wants a relationship with her dad. Grandma HATES him. Constantly yelling at him for forgetting things when she comes over, brags about being there for us grandkids (I have two younger sisters) when we were little, and overall is just plain rude. My dad used to be able to just tell her to leave, but now that he’s gone, he can’t.

Well, last week would have been my dad’s 45th birthday. Mom wanted to celebrate by taking me and my youngest sister (the older sister just moved out for college and is across the country) to Dad’s favorite restaurant. As we were leaving, Mom was stressing very heavily about not inviting Grandma or Grandpa. She stressed about Grandpa because he often forgets to eat dinner and she stressed about Grandma because the old bitch has flamed my mom on Facebook for not being invited to events before, even though my mom knew that Grandma wouldn’t like those events (think late night soccer games, plays where I’m not a main role/has an 18+ theme, etc. stuff an old Christian woman who hates driving at night would hate)

I told Mom not to invite either grandparent and that the three of us (me, Mom, and little sister) should just go alone and enjoy some immediate family time. We did and we had a great time, talking with my little sister about her high school classes, talking shit about my mom’s coworkers, and me getting to infodump about Fallout because my mom just watched the tv show.

Towards the end of the night, my Mom gets a text from Grandma asking what we were up to for Dad’s birthday. I tell Mom not to answer and she doesn’t. Grandma then sends Mom a screenshot of the family Life360 map and starts sending walls off texts saying how hurt she is that she wasn’t invited, how neglected she is, how awful it is that she can’t spend time with the grandkids anymore, how Mom always prioritizes Grandpa over Grandma (he wasn’t even with us?) and shit like that. I take Mom’s phone and block Grandma for her since she’s sitting next to me, frozen and locked-up.

It’s been a week now and we haven’t spoken to Grandma. That’s fine by me, but I can see that my Mom is upset and regrets how the dinner went.

Here’s where I may be the asshole:

I was the one who said not to invite Grandma

I was the one who blocked Grandma

I butted my head into my Mom and Grandma’s relationship

Here’s why I think I’m not:

My mom has never been good at standing up for herself

My mom shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit while grieving her fucking husband of 22 years

Not everything is about Grandma. She inserts herself into everything needlessly

TL;DR: Dad died. Went to dinner with my mom and sister to celebrate his birthday. Grandma found out and bitched a fit that she wasn’t invited. I took mom’s phone and blocked her. Now mom is stressing about losing her relationship with grandma. Aita?

[cipheramnesia]

Vivisection

I sloughed the shell in a flourish of our shared sweat, blood, and mucus. Cold on the steel-grated floor lift, tech eyes wide over me as my psyche twitched itself back together from the needles. My eyes said you must be new but my mouth spoke in thick puked up fluid whilst my sopping slick shuddering fingers clawed nerve pads off my tits and slid catheter from my dick. All of us nerves had little twitches of pleasure as we found ourselves whole, and made it to sitting.

"Towel," I found language, and the tech handed it, eyes carefully elsewhere at the pink and red cockpit still quivering in urgency, wet with quenched desires. Methodically cleaned under the wet warm terrycloth ministrations, top to standing, adjusting to eyes and ears 'side skin and taste. The hangar was all echoes of more experienced crew on the teardown fifty feet up and down the shell, didn't need the look I turned anyway at my love, the crab. Rested claws in bands of carbon, four squat legs and rolling condensation off the quieting spiracles. Charred, twisting armor coated over with clotted brown patch like scabs and fading blue drips of other less evils' blood, sparkling at places from shattered refractive layers, spongy intrasteel glistening through here and there. Below it discharged glutinous tar from the trap, all spent oil and shock fluid plus shells and fused filters, burned heat hexes all and all bound for the reprocess, someone else's hand-me-down armor or shoes.

The wasp staggered past us to its own home sweet safety net so I hung the rail in a gentlemanly way and bade our tech meet my goddess in crime at her door. "They have their own lift," the tech observed. My goosebumps agreed, emphasizing the questionable temperature, but a lady must pay her respects. "I don't care," I suggested so we went.

Parked up under those gangly legs adripped with the glow and silver of thirty confirmed kills and gored holes through musculoskeletal tubing told the tale, I held my arms in chivalry as the mandibles underside the shell parted ways and dripped Ari into my embrace along side her own deluge of girl-juice and veined amniogel shreds. Knees buckled as my stomach protested my lack aforethought, but no one could dispute the benefits of a girl pressed against my breasts, slinging her long arms around me. She barfed over my shoulders, warm and phlegmy.

Ari'd pulled her cords in the shell like a good girl, still shook gainst my skin as she stuttered, "fuh- fuh- fuh-" while I jerked my head at the tech who shrugged. Outta towels, well my bad. Leaned us on the railing and thought about tonight, you know the human body's pretty heavy all said? "Your... skin is... freezing!" she articulated, not a request mere observation, but my arms acquiesced nevertheless. We leaned on each other watching black muck drain from the wasp's thorax, standing around naked in a pool of shell vomit. "Yer dumb," she added, hocking up more phlegm. "Now're both shlimy." The other shells crawled in with the tide, blasted with sterilizing powder and steam, various scorpions and mosquitos and spiders seeking succor as we finally made our way down the textured rubber steps.

"Fuckin so hungry," Ari slurred, dribbling blood and saliva while my own stomach answered midst shouts of our squad as they were reborn, crawling free and bloodied from the shell, some still babbled nonsense, tried to move limbs no longer bodied and no shame to them. "You threw up so much, 'spected," I said. Watched Spinning Jenny shaking mucus off his head, snapping teeth together.

"Gonna eat three horses," Ari added. "Fuck potatoes, my dick can fuck a pile of potatoes I'm starving." She shook my shoulder, my legs wobbled in tune, "Clingy bitch." But her hand stayed, fingers digging the tense muscles in my back, mine squeezed her hips. "Casey I want you to hold me down and force feed a gallon of cheese into me." Managed to cross the whole hangar naked, didn't eat shit. Techs hooted appreciating and I tried to bow but just did a cockeyed vanity wave. Brain twitched but kept my cool, remembered I don't see in sonar. "Maybe later tonight," I murmured sotto voce. I cleaned the fresh blood from my ears with a pinky finger.

Lockers, showers, Ari always liked when I soaped and dried her, little bit of a tease, ease of limbs back into bodily limits. She was wiping gunk from her eyes, still going, "I fuck shit swear I'm getting mission reruns in my sleep now. Bullshit we don't hang on to PDN memories, I've deffo had the same shit we throw at the elves in my head at night."

"They're not elves," I said.

"Whatever, magical monster tree bugs, I dunno, are you getting shell feedback?" I was toweling her thick curls, my own short hair dried sweet quick. Threw on those almost paper scrubs. Sexy. "Babe, we all got feedback, I'm not even sure how much me is in my mind."

She grabbed my hair and gave my head a little shake, "Lucky you, I'll fuck your brains out anyway," and blew my hair out my eyes. I grabbed her hand and pushed back, she swooned, we crushed hard as team shelled and molted, in bed or in field. Just a way to anchor, comes with the piloting, nothing new. Lots of pilots fall in twos and fours of strange bedfellow - gets you back in mind after so long parted. "Shut the fuck up," she said to my smile, shoved back, I reeled her in and smiled more til she punched my shoulder. "Fuck you, feed me." We joined the aching crowd clustering to the mess hall.

Slammed our piled trays on a table, minutes later. Scatter Hawk had beat us there somehow, last in the bay, first to the hay per usual. Jelly was still in their hair and they were tearing into a pile of beef flavored protein patties they'd slathered with garlic chili sauce and pickled carrot chips. Shoved it in their blood-smeared face with mixed results twohanding a fork, missed the target 30% of the time. "Glad you're a better shot with the 40," I suggested and they replied, "Slip your own dick sideways fish brisket," spittle and snot sprayed with each word, language not quite in the altogether I guess. I slapped some nerves back into their shoulder and they grunted wetly and appreciatively.

Ari pushed me onto the bench and dropped down, catted up against me and chugged hot sauce from the tube, followed by a fistful of fake bacon and chips dripping with jalapeños. "Thid fit gess weeper effy dah" she spat out with a mouthful of half chewed food, elbowing my ribs in the process, so I slipped my hand over her thigh and gave her a reassuring stim. I was busy with whatever passed for kimchi and pork flavored protein while the table started filling up with other pilots eating an entire day's worth of food in one sitting, trying to feel and speak and touch and taste all at once with mixed successes, all of us trying to pick our nerves up from the sludge being in the shell made out of our bodies. DeeDee shoved a fork at us and said, "Fuck were you, suckin dick? Tank's supposed to keep hits off."

"Yeah, take many hits?" I wiped the dribbled of blood off my lip.

"Like ten! Two in a lung!" He jabbed a beef patty for table wobbling emphasis.

Barely audible Ari whispered, "You're alive aren't you?" Head was drooped under her curled hair near to my level, flying below table radar, still about hit direct to a nerve with DeeDee's bloodshot eyes going big and Hellis beside scooting its flat ass away but none of us got further into what manner of dicks weren't or were sucked (my carefully planned speech - about the pincer move we broke while I was still jamming longways thanks and the relationship of DeeDee's dick being vaporized vis a vis our suckage - wasted). Squad command rudely storming our table with the demand: "Death Claw! Kill Strike!"

Silence resumed in sudden shock as he stood authority thrust chinward, all our eyes tracking the table. He repeated the command, "Death Claw! Kill Strike!" Silence abounded, roamed the plains, handed him a look of weary resignation as his lips, with all the distaste of gingerly dropping a dead rat into a toilet, formed, "Kitty Candy and Raccoon Enchantment," he struggled to recover his momentum but the wind was dead, "I need to speak with you both." Tablewide "ooooo" and Spinning Jenny added "someone's in trouuuble," as we took our ways in the talking wake of the baron of bluster.

Followed breadcrumbs of wet bootie prints and bloodsmeared walls back to the old bay so he could scream at us with an echo. "You semen stains mind explaining what the fuck you were doing back in that shitshow?"

Her nose was bleeding heavily again and I could feel Ari's arm spasm as she pushed close behind me, whispering without sound. I had answers mercifully drowned in a wad of spit and phlegm suddenly dumping into my mouth and down my chin.

"Gods you're all fucking sick. Disgusting. Got nothing to show for it?"

I swallowed another gob of something unpleasantly solid which mercifully shot from my lungs into my mouth giving moments for me to think forward. Rare enough, I treasured them. Figured best not mention what was the thing, blowing the drop bolts early cuz she wanted to try and fire the primary on the wasp from directly above a banyan whilst midair, sans stabilizers, which for the record she hit the thing but caught an extra eighth mile sky above the crate.

"Listen," I gurgled, wiped off my face. ("Listen SIR," he interjected, so I waved indulgently.) "Hurgle. My decoms pinged a hostile lake, looked like a stand of banyans an' a anthill so we bailed at drop beta." Ari's fingers drug out blood from under my paper sleeve, fuck ridiculous she's like eight inches taller trying to make my ass into partial cover.

"Drop beta," he repeated the words to emphasize their unwelcome intrusion to his shriveled brain. I realized the part of my memories with this squad commander's name got sliced in the shell. His face was twitching as bad as mine ever has. "There was no drop beta! There was one site, slash and burn, the end!"

"Well lucky you! We set one up before that swampfire cut our lines up, no thanks necessary please, you know we do it for the love of our jobs."

He looked at the melted up muscle and vatsteel carapace curves of my beloved crab and wasp. Some mirror shaved surfaces, bug blood all black where it congealed. "Fuckin trannies, disgusting, undisciplined- Why we hire so many I don't even-"

"C'mon, you know we're your best guys."

"You're literally my worst guys! If I had anyone else fucked in the head enough to shove into those- those fucking meat grinder abominations, I'd dump your freakshow asses so far in the back beyond you'd fart just for the conversation!"

I elbowed Ari in the gut before she said something dumber than I had in mind. "You know the old saying, a tranny in the shell will give em all hell."

His face snapped shut like crab's load-in maw. Gritted teeth rumbled, "Scrape duty for the next two hours." He shoved us out of the way off to ruin someone else's sex lives, his own probably.

Two hours and two trays of congealed processed protein with vinegar and hot peppers, we trudged down the narrow hall to bunk. The ganglia stopped twitching but it'd been a minute last I had this much elf blood under my nails and my hair reeked of burned polyfilament lubricant.

Ari stretched her arms back because the ceiling was too low for up grumbling, "Don't wanna spec nother fuckin face for a whole shift." I shrugged half drop slept and headed my roomways, brought to heel with her hand on my wrist. "The fuck you think you're going, you promised." Her, lips, just as crusted with blood and snot as mine still a cute pout in dire times.

I gauged my cramping stomach up against that hand and those lips. We hadn't been on-mission for a sec, and fuck for the moment I'm only human and very horny. Still. "You said-"

"People, I mean people." She punched the latch and I let her reel me into her narrow cabin, coming attractions you could call it. I said, "Babe, you gotta pick up your underwear - or anything - sometime." Ari grabbed a bottle of the rancid wine someone was making from cooking oil and caramelized vinegar. She put it against my chest, and put us against the stowage wall, and put her tongue into my throat. Her lips were gunpowder nachos, burning hot, both of us careless to chapped cracked open blood. I took a slug of the wine, with its notes of artificial PTSD raspberry flavor, as she pulled the bunk from the wall. I held up the bottle, tipped it to her lips, spilled it into her mouth, on her face, down her bare flesh and cheap scrubs.

Ari yanked it away and tossed it to the refuse under her fully unused sliver of a desk. I grabbed her by the front of her scrubs, they tore, so I grabbed her arm and fumbled us against the edge of the cot, struggling with my pants and paper booties. "Fucking elastic, now it works?" Ari tried to rip the pants off, snapping a yelp and a shock outta me when she snapped the band on my stomach, so I pushed my hand into her pants and grabbed her dick, hip checked her onto her back on the cot, then furiously yanked both our pants off. We smashed tongues and lips again, her guided by my fingers in her hair, me by her nails on my back, furrows through the grime mottling my acne scarred skin. I clambered onto her, a full tangle of legs and elbows with the sweet serenade of the cot, joints protesting weight and unwelcome thrashing. But I had hold of her now, me and my little growls, her softly repeating "please," as I pressed our hips, tits, lips together. Teased and pinched on and around her nipples, scratched the welcome back real world long her ribs, pulled myself to myself with her rhythmic panting breaths. Shudders passing through from her to me, traded in kind as we reminded our bodies and each other of the dwindling human embers in our chests, the dregs of what once was bright and happy in the world still enough between us to reignite into the shape we suffered through bereft of shells. A minute for our hearts to hammer together, to take in the mossy dried blood scent, the reek of sweat and metal, both of us hard and slick against one another.

When she murmured, we gingerly squirmed our legs and arms around and across each other til Ari lay on her stomach, the pathetic, thin excuse of a mattress rolled under her chest and arms. Lube was spread over her ass and my fingers with wasteful urgency. I worked my hands slowly down her back, gently caressing her sync ports with my thumb, watching them contract and gape with her moans. The lips of them tingled and sent pulses of pleasure through my hands from lingering protonerves. Moved downward to her ass and sliped in one finger at a time, stroking inside her folds, touching her walls, three in and rhythmic spreading and relaxing as she sucked in air, so I leaned up close and slipped my tongue into her neckport, the sphincter closed tight and opened wide and I could feel my ports sympatic response, taste her tasting tasting her. She twisted her pillow into knots and I pushed my cock into her as my fingers slipped out, slowly, feeling her tense up and relax.

Slivers of amniogel squished against my cock in her ass, protonerves shot echos of her through me, flaring and then crushed between us. We pressed ourselves closer, trading pulses back and forth, that one flashing minute of her ass against my hips and one hand on her dick, my face in her hair, one hand pressing into jer back ports, letting her suck the lube from my other hand. It was almost the ecstasy of feeling our minds dissolve into one another. Then we moved again. Hours or minutes, I felt her cum trickle over my hands and wiped it on her thigh as I kept going. Mucus spilled from her contracting back sphincters and my own. Fucking the trace of vat grown life to death until we might have a hope of sleep tonight.

It was humid and reeked of sex, everything about Ari barely fit, except for me, so we stole away these moments from each other to remember and forget. It was nothing in the world, but it was better than dying alone. My leg hung off the bed when we had rolled free of one another, too filthy to breathe and too wasted to shower. My elbow and hip hurt from banging against the wall. Her legs were curled up and her left knee jabbed painfully into my thigh, I couldn't find a place to put my right arm and it was falling asleep but the tingle felt better than trying to stand up. Head was jammed into my neck, couldn't be comfortable, I brushed tangles out of her hair. Muffled, she said, "You smell bad."

"You love it. You missed my pit stank, my demure little corpseflower." She made gagging noises into my clavicle. "I'm gonna have to go back to my nice bunk where the floor is clean, can't stay under my wing forever birdie."

"Whatever," I felt her lips mashed against me with each word, and braced for her to shove me off bed, but her arm just squeezed me closer. "Can so stay f'rever," she sounded almost asleep, her head pushed closer to me and she muttered something like "glove mew bits."

Rolled eyes, but pressed a little closer. "Sure, marinate some new strain of bacteria, they can spatula us out the morning." Unprepared by her momentary snuggle, my ass hit the floor in a pile of unwashed tanktops with a sleep slurred "fuck off."

I left my dignity in the laundry and blew a kiss. "You're gonna hate you in the morning if you sleep that way," she made and grumpy noise and wrapped herself around the rolled up mattress, trying and failing to fit on the metal cot. I tripped a little on the way out the door, on my half naked way to a luxury five minute hot shower to a low bid bargain cold sleep.

Dreams told tales from the shell. Techs all swore in the slice nothing transfers. True enough we lost a short term or three but that's the balance to cost against feedback, they said. Dreams were my four legs crushing earth compact from the drop jump as my decoms rolled over the banyans and bugs slinging spells, my nightmost terrors unfolding from the PDN and flooding their foci and fetishes. In the mindscape ground ran fluid under mechanized polyplastic muscle, the world putty with my gargantuan claws. Chaff launched from deep inside my chambered shell to spark the incoming green, a deathly spray to casual sunblock rads, no mind to armored skin.

Myriad wave of banyans moving, windblown, roots crawling, but there she is, my darting wasp hurling her thousand stings, finding targets in my trackers n hackers through the grassfield bugs. Their blood glows blue, all the work of their spells to brittle silver threads that fall to pieces. She lands and I bathe the hill in freaks, veritable fog of messy tracking til her thorax slides open and erects its throbbing, winged main gun, legs planted, struts in, and a hurricane throws banyan trunks to shreds, clears a canyon of death, and she screams, and I see the branches from the earth tearing her apart, I am slow, bogged in sudden mud, green spears her, the angry earth rips her legs from limb, black ichor and green coolant and I wake up screaming as she shouts for me to go. Clutching the metal edge to my cot, seeking my body again, for a moment unable to hear or see, I exist only as pounding blood and raw nerves til each flexed muscle brings me to human.

Some time passes to rise, rollout hours more hence, I spent time to feel my body, put on shorts and t-top and try to forget the dream and Ari's voice screaming for me to leave her.

I tried to sleep the echo away, then folded my cot and dug the glass bottle of beauties. Rattled a couple hatch-down to flatten it out. Nothing doing, no washing or wiping or jerking off removed the unwelcome night haunt, so I made my soft shod way down to mess.

Rigs like these, there's never quiet. Air cycles, night crew, the odd distant clatter we all always hoped wasn't the seconds off warning of full breach. I paused by Ari's door, halfway to clacking it, but moved counterspin towards mess. No sense both of us losing sleep over one misfire of psyche. Half light in the mess, couple plotters and binders poked listless fried protein and I took my separate peace with a cup of the juice. Sick sweet chemflavor kicked caffeine to my heart and guts enough to winnow away the hours trying a dozen different flavors of artificial spice on artificial food, feeling artificially alive.

DeeDee showed in first after rollout, guy was never not angry at me over some shit, angry at something, put a lot of that through the lines good for us. Hellis always hung round, I specced on their afterhours but never pried the privates. Wouldn't have minded a bunk with either, but oh well. Shadow Jumper and Stepper and Jenny and so on filing their way through gallons of sickening juice and overcooked daybreak. Ari was last in, skulking through the rising shine and din of the mess, caught a tangle of her eyes but crowds were parting our ways.

"See how long you last without that filter, you'd hurl minimal," Jenny kept prodding at Scatter Hawk putting away more forkfulls than any two of us, just grunting back, while DeeDee yelled down the table at Stepper over horrendous and audible farts. I couldn't find a minute to catch Ari's eyes, roll em back and forth with mine, she was digging a hole through her tray.

I spent a frustrated week shipping past her nights. Some asshole I learned was apparently in charge of the squad demanding press-ups and running laps spin wise. Got mad when I said we don't use any muscles and I had to do extra sit-ups, and I threw up and didn't see Ari in the lockers. Tear down on the crab, coming and she was on her grease stained way showers, grimacing. Asleep when I catted around her doors at the odd hours. Anxiety in my spare space left my skin crawling. Ran into her at the psyche cracker and said hey, how you doin? Ari said, "Fine," with those tangled up eyes.

"You okay? I do something you wanna talk?" Whatever was left inside my skull felt like it wanted me to vomit it through my ports. My intestines wanted my skin rippled.

She shook her head. "It's not. You're good, you're good, I just." She shook her head again, tugged the hem of her shirt. Bless I was horny as fuck but just wanted to untangle her eyes, please.

"Listen, I got-"

"Casey!" The skull breaker slid its door up. Check-in time, its glassed eyes and masked mouth glittered, jovial work for a septic system.

"Ari, one second doc. Hey."

Backing down the hall, miming apologies. "I'll see you around Case."

I got a good grade from the psyche. "Very little degradation today," it exclaimed. "Your connectivity must have been quite well balanced! If you maintain this synchronization, we can expect to keep memory and autonomic function nearly optimal. Please ensure you take your supplements to maintain neural plasticity, excellent work!"

It always ignored my questions so I didn't ask anymore but one time I looked up "autonomic" and I was not very excited about the implications. Clacked Ari's door on the way back roomwards, to no result. Shut my door hard, rattled more beauties down my gullet and lay on the floor, tossed aside my psyche chart with all its healthy green and admonishing yellow. Degradation did not feel minimal, I was fragile with worry and my body wanted to fly apart, uncontained by the shell and trembling with skin crawling fear. Nothing flattened, the spin felt too fast, and I wiped confused wetness off my face. I clenched fists to my sides and shook uncontrollably. When would the drop would come?

Rolled out and rounded up came down soon enough against my liking. Marched our asses cross to the bay and posted us up. The squad leader looked uniquely miserable for each syllable of "Kitten Candy! Raccoon Enchantment!" He might actually kill me if he figures out how I changed our call signs.

Ari lurked behind me, sleep deprivation coming off her in radiant heat. I'd woke on the aching floor to rollout chimes, back still sharp from the sleep I should've skipped. She'd been doing teardown some long hours fore we got the callout. "Since you two reliably fuck up anything more complicated than bright colors and shapes, you're doing drop targeting. Three sites, think you can handle it?"

"Probably not, SIR!" I said, and he was not amused, Ari flopped hands affirmatively over the task a drone could do.

"Get synced up because that's the mission. Fuck off, the adult pilots are talking."

Could've argued, didn't, not with the halides in my skull and Ari walking away for the wasp. "Hey! Hey." Caught up around and walked with her. "Lotta radio silence, you good? I mean, girl, you look like shit, but you good?" We reached the lift. My hand was more tentative on her shoulder than my first time trying on a bra. "Are, like, are we? You know, did I say something?"

"Shit, you're fuckin impossible," Ari pulled a smile from an awful place. "Never said nothing except all I wished-" She started climbing. "Ah, fuck off, you know you're good. So good I want... like, fuck. I'm good. Had feedback something fierce this week. Hcch." I walked behind her, hand at her back and lifted, she grabbed my wrist. "C'mon, bitch, gimme a boost up."

The tech up top had the wasp open, long tongue dangling, pink, dripping ready to enfold. The mandibles were an umbrella over us, the whole cockpit slung between a sensaray and fire platform up front and the main gun taking up most of the thorax, flightless wings for short jumps and bristled with beams and missiles webbed into veins and live nerves. Ari stripped off her clothes and I helped her with the mass of thick tubes dangling from the soft flesh of the wasp's underbelly. Gentle with the catheter while she gripped my shoulder, taping the skin contacts on, then slipping the fat red sync cables and their gently writhing filaments into the sphincter along her neck and spine.

"Hey." I looked up from making stirrup hands and Ari's fingers lifted me from kneeling. "You be here when we come back, kay? I don't wanna open this cage if I don't see your ugly mug waiting."

"You fuckin wish," I said. "Believe, I'll be here, I got nothing better to do."

She had that smile, eyes almost past her tangle. "Yeah, what the fuck do I care, you're just, like. Well fuck you, anyway, you better be here, no excuses."

I put my hands together and knelt. "No excuses, bitch." She stepped into me and I hoisted her up until the closing mandibles caught her and pulled her the rest of the way in. The wasp began to breathe, the metal and polymer exoskeleton tightening as it straightened. The multiplicably enfolded legs flexed all their joints. I made my way from Ari's lift to my own, perspective and spin distorted neath my crab all encompassing the view and my world. The stairway to its cockpit was considerably longer, but no aid was needed. Sixfold mandibles waited for me, tubes lay cross the steel grate for my own administration. That same tech still couldn't look as I stripped and strapped. Didn't need help with my ports, just held crab's feelers up and they squirmed their way to the intimate fibers of my spinal cord. I sighed and my ports contracted to pull the connections deeper to the nerve.

The tech muttered, "I can't cope with the freaky shit," stepped off lively. Probably thought I couldn't hear as I wound myself into the folds of the crab's intimacy, and was encased in the dark. The peristaltic folds squeezed and swallowed me into the wet warm depths in the heavy polycombine plate armor of our turret. Impact gel, amniogel, blood and mucus flowed over my feet and hands, the added nerves and plasm more deeply fusing us. I felt my vision shriveling through a tunnel, my gritty eyes black in my skull, each muscle of my limbs unfurled from bones to thread themselves into the limbs of a colossus. My spine grew through my skin to blossom across a carapace and turret, flexed my claws and the wide flat armor wings across my back, felt the hangar through its myriad complex electrical systems and programs running in constant state of adjustment. I could smell the synapses of the crew inside the rig, all the redundant added systems, multiple layers of security, still so vulnerable inside this soft underbelly. My web crackled and fluttered along my body. I could kill everyone around me with a thought and leave only my fellow, slumbering shells for company.

I vacuumed air through my body and filters, hundreds of pounds in a breath. Piece by piece I cut my mind free of its cage, each part of it a point in a web of a thousand stars to guide my way. How had I ever let myself believe I could be human? How could I be when I was this, so much more, the parts of my mind I never before realized were incomplete. Destroy me, I urged the crab. Consume the last of my flesh and bones, and let me free once and for all. I slipped my claws out of their bands and tested link with wasp - with Ari. She vibrated enthusiasm, her stimulant chemicals were flooding overtime, and I selected the clam path of her many input and system indexes to aid her, grant her focus to the still before the burn. The dropship waited and we obliged, neither of us patient for departure and planet fall, once again to taste the alien atmosphere and feel true gravity pull at our tissue and joints.

Countdown for slow minutes, and we jammed to our sync. I felt at peace, each part of my psyche sliced from itself, and we lay distributed across our body, through small cortexes fired with the parts of my consciousness. We ticked through systems and my subconscious night terrors spooled into projectors while my self sense expanded to the decom in preparation for target tracking. Ari and I could feel one another as we synced, her slender body and long legs torquing their secondary legs into alignment. Her deepest horrors became a narrow band of foci, accompaniment to each one of her eight gun placements

We swayed for a minute as the drop slid out through the bay doors til thrusted still in a white noise of rocket and atmosphere. Open doors spilled a flurry of blinding light and boiling air. We cut the cord and took flight. Fission cycled to jets and Ari soard around my less graceful lander module decel, both flirtatious and efficient. Earthshaking on point, I breathed in the beacon for the first drop target, then pulled myself free of deeply fertile soil, felled the odd red thornbush in the way of our determinedly stealth free journey. Ari was more nimble in her travels, caught us both up fair to the prep kit. My decom swept all sides of the range for crevices of organized blue, and looked through my wavspec for tattletale knurled arms and segmented torso trunks.

"Whistle clean," I thrummed to Ari and she slipped up through to the prep barely shifting a twig. My hearts beat in time to her showy work then my pace crushed the evidence in passing. Exultation flooded my glands and fluttered my filtration, we set to the lungs of the future. My claws could lift and move enough whilst Ari's more dexterous complex digits hooked in power, nutrient starter, bacteria loads. All color coded and writ large enough couple pilots couldn't fuck it up, track records notwithstanding. Few hundred and we'd be able to turn the toxic swamp of atmosphere to nearly breathable. Plenty for firsts, let them deal with the messy genes for the twenty-threes to come later. Not us, not our yards and acres of lungs filtered enough to breathe near vacuum. Minutes confirmed the bactomix was good, and we beamed our confirmation.

"Nice and tidy," Ari observed the dirt churned circle round the target. I tasted the ground, messy but starter ready.

"Good enough. It'll be dust in a year anyway. Grab a ride?" We're supposed to march it point to point, no riders no passengers, but it's slow n tedious. She grappled to my exo instead. Put a safe-ish distance from the drop target, hunkered. Earth churned to mud and boiled around my feet as we sank down, I wrenched all I could from dirt rocks clay, sprayed hot waste out my vents, and we exploded into the air on jets carved from living thorns and earth, second drop in record time. Nothing rumbled I could spec but still. "Tastes sour," I trembled contact to contact. Ari slithered down and crouched near my shoulder.

Moments she said, "It's stilled air, might be some action crosswinds." Her wings flexed a bit and we looked for the petrichor druid chemsign. At range I could pick out just the echo of their craft, the sizzle of their spells registered a bare zero zero DV scale. "Specced it, action's noways near," I thrummed between us. "Sus, though, we're ahead of schedule, let's walk it." She affirmed, and we moved like glass, opened the target pack and specced every step.

Thorns still, sharp rocks earth clay uphill still, air still, but the maddening aquamarine fuzz of rain cluttered my sights. Ari flexed her wings on her thorax again, rocket platforms twitched nervously. "There's too much fizzing," she hissed, picking up my discomfort. Gauss guns on her sensary pointed hither and yon. "Fuck it," I thrummed, "Bact's good, bail." She mounted me from behind and we dug in the dirt, boiled and processed and locked. Branches burst up from earthbound as every spec greenlined on me, and I screamed in sickeningly fractured agony.

I could feel my exo cracking where the branches of an Atlas banyan crushed around three of my legs, pain and fluids pouring out of my body. Had to be a twin trunk, at least. Even my spiracles bled. Jagged shapes stung my left claw and numbed one of my injured legs. I could hear Ari's screeching and felt her weight shift from me to the ground. My specs were greened out in swampfire, I could taste the ozone and my own charred exo, but I was blind.

"I can't scope!" Ari's panic crackled and echoed through my body, fuled the rush of toxic stims and lit up my heat sinks bright from overclock. "I'm on it, I've got guidance," I lied, throwing a narcofilter into com. I dialed in broad spec and fired a wave of chaff, unspooled PDN for mass nightmare. Swapped high-speed into UV infra sonic organize scope range til I could line out the elves. Ari's screeches spiraled in time to hits I felt in my neuron clusters, dirt and rocks rattled from being skywards. Contermanded a second hit of stims in my system, cooled collect.

Instant recovery between the chaff and PDN. The stinging cold geometry faded its intensity on my exo. I experienced the reward of disrupted Atlas' soundscreams enduring the mortifying ordeal of being scoped. Shortburst the dial range to Ari. Caught backflow of her relief. Found the seconds we needed to move.

The Atlases were over halfway out of the soil, still partly wrapped their heavy branches over Ari and me. Quad trunks, fuck. Druid support, double fuck. The fully exposed organizing casters ways off, spec a kilo or two, but their alien decoms were holding up to the PDN. I pulled back to Ari and my pain receptors shut off the instant my legs twisted and shed broken exo like ice, steel grinding itself each movement. I checked her stat. Half a leg and one wing had been torn off. Her body was coated with slick black and green fluid, mixed with white foam. Her secondary leg was intact and functional, but I could see six bad hits from those light spears.

I cut loose a second wave of chaff, narrowed for the type-beta shieldworks from the druids, scattered an arch of green spears - I put my wings and claws out front to do their job just in time to take the secondary hit of jagged blue geometry. My back legs twisted excessively past their limit. The tri-polyplate claws held, mostly, some smoldering layers blasted free and others melted. I tight focused neural disruptors at the Atlases, cut more chaff, joyed at their screams of fear and agony. "Ari, my target." She swayed but unfolded her stabilizer struts, hit one of them with three rockets, a particle shot, and a full sec from the gauss, frosted it's decom and tore up the left half of its body. Glistening dark blue blood exploded across the other two and it laid out, alive but no threat. Heat fins spread wide open white hot underside her wings, her legs. "Casey your fuckin legs they-"

I flickered low beams at the druids, didn't connect but gave em a minute to think, redirected a broad neural disrupt at our six, more encouraging screeches, I filled the crab with the worst of my mind to saturate multiple kilometers in the PDN of my own fears and nightmares. "Ari, not now, cover."

Even on a wing and half a leg she was a beautiful flower of agony, spread of rockets, heavy beams, blistered depslugs streaking from her to seek the druids proved weakest by their alchemical conversion to bright blue explosions of blood and bone. Steamed heavy off her sink. The second Atlas was fighting up through my disrupt. I hit it with a PDN flare mix, and didn't catch the green blue spellwork shield crackling twixt its bark til I had to duke it.

The Altas caught a claw with one limb, put two more into my main body, right center, and I was overwhelmed by the vomit stench of my tissue and exo and endo rupturing, polymuscles shredded, but I boiled my feet in deep with stage one for jump, and got my other claw on its middle trunk. My com was choking garbled but I said, "Ari-" before I felt the left rear third joint sheer and snap.

She was to me before I could waver with her forelegs' high beam up to max in its face. Light hotter than stars burst the banyan into three flaming pieces, sheer through the trunk, bloodless, charred beyond recognition in a second. She buzzed me. "We can't stay." The last of the Atlases was pulling a highdef organized multiplier out of the earth. Looked like pine tree trunk but carried in a single limb. I specced another Atlas closing. One good HDOM shot would dust my armor. One bad shot would vaporize Ari. "You're right."

I tried to spool up, but the PDN was dead, so I blasted chaff along the ground in front of the Atlas. Give it some hot shrapnel to work through, dialed the rest for max dispersal, and cut three quarters skyward. "Grab a lift," I snarled and she was on me. "And set your main."

The earth churned and my legs threatened to give, but held. "Case. I tried that last week, rec? I couldn't hit shit."

"Yeah. You tried it. We didn't." I hit the jump, we caught sky.

Ari's limbs folded around my body, and her remaining claws clamped, support struts pierced my exo secondary limbs unfolded to add more stability. She shifted the main rifle forward from inside her thorax and opened the remaining wing, heat vents fully extended, coolant spraying out of her wounds as it pumped triple time through her sinks. Her thorax flexed heavy with breath and the gun's wiring and nerve rigs flushed the scent of her excited musk around us. I wrapped my three remaining legs up over my body and clung to her, spun us with my wings on our axis. We had a beautiful aerial view of the remains of our own ambush, our legs fallen close like hands of dying lovers.

The main gun of the wasp would not be possible to see if we had human eyes. A three stage system requiring the finest care with aiming and multiple stabilizers to the firing platform ensuring a clean hit, combined with full heat dispersal for blowback. It would break up shield and decoms, disruptors and polyplate, followed instantly by a particle beam depslug mixture.

I wrapped my claws over her cockpit segment and she fired. The slug obliterated the Atlas, its multiplier detonating and spraying organized green spears haphazardly with blue geometry. The drop target went up and threw a cloud of concentrated bacto over what looked like eight kilometers. I saw the beam digging a canyon through the earth moments before the bacteria and debris blacked the site.

We were thrown, I lost a second leg and both wings. Deaf to coms. My chaff clattered off us, shredded our armor. The full thorax and both of Ari's rear legs were torn away by recoil and a furnace blast of overheating power couplings as I held fiercely, even when my left claw was cleanly severed by the last flash of the beam and my main body punctured and boiled by her shrapnel. I realized I wasn't deaf, I simply was unable to hear anything except Ari screaming and lost valuable seconds - nothing to see but sky and only rushing air over our spinning bodies.

I jetted waste from my secondary vents, they spat angrily but caught air. Risked it, held Ari with my only two legs and put my claw between us and the freight train rush up on drop target three. I hoped enough was left of her to hear me shout, "Impact Impact Impact!"

The ground was very wide and very fast and black. It was-

Nothing. Black.

Casey. Casey. You need to get up.

"Casey," Ari's hiss was a near inaudible comm. "Casey please... I can't move my legs."

I specced, half blind, dialed it through. There was a flicker of distant green. Move. I felt joints and plastic muscle, raw tissue and white foam dig the earth, I moved in a little circle. The drop ship was waiting - no pilot, just auto for a grunt mission in and out.

"I'm up," I lied to Ari. She hissed, "I know you aren't." I specced myself. One leg could move, claw somehow intact, thank you polyplate. Other legs just partial joints, trailed their hydraulics and burned nerves. Quarter chopped off the rear platform. "Am so," I thrummed and put my claw in the ground, levered. Slid my partial legs underneath and my one good one up. "I'm up." I started pushing myself along the earth.

Felt like dragging the big protein drums on kitchen duty, couldn't lift much as rock myself back and forward one side at a time. I found what was left of Ari.

"How's it look," she hissed. One of her two remaining legs was shattered in half a dozen places, congealed foam doing nothing for the fluid leaks. Her other leg might last. Sensary might even be salvageable. There were holes gaping in her deformed cockpit, gel and blood oozing through cracks. "Looks great," I thrummed. "You lost so much weight."

Her laugh wheezed. "You got one good leg Ari, I need you to hitch a ride." She fumbled in the mud and found the tattered edge of my exo, dragged herself half onto what was left of my main body, and I pushed. Her voice was distant now, "Hey Case, remember that night fight, we jumped a bunch of elves with a flashblind."

Just a few meters. "Yeah, pretty funny. Guess they remembered us." She wheezed again, her comm was rattling. "And that time we used ice for heat sig?" My claw hit metal. I strained on the loading ramp without traction. "That was pretty good too, yeah." Fuck it. I grabbed one of the less important control struts and heaved, pulled. Felt my innards and Ari slither along metal, almost home. One more pull. "Hey Casey, hey. Remember when the fuckin elves ambushed us with our same dumb ideas and you thought I should shoot em on the jump."

I punched the recall code, the hatch cranked shut, dumped the tangled mess of our bodies into the drop bay. Acceleration crushed us. "Yeah Ari, that wasn't the best idea ever." The rig loomed up. "Right Ari? I'm an idiot." The comm was quiet.

We were in the bay and I was in a pool of sludge. I could feel my legs and arms and bruises and my own real blood on my face. I could walk and and almost stand, crawling clambering falling down the lift stairs before the tech could say anything. He slipped after me, clutched railing and tried to keep his footing in the mucus as I went sidewinding to our sad and shattered shells, tech prying open the jaws of Ari's with hydraulic levers.

I shoved through as the seal cracked, reek of poisoned atmos and stagnant amniogel, the snap of bone and it fell open, pouring Ari onto the hanger floor, washed up against me. I was on my knees, she was in my arms. Bone showed through one of her broken legs and a bloody hole in her ribs frothed blood. Her bottom lip split so bad I could see her shattered teeth sticking through it. Blood from her ears, nose, eyes, whole body a contour map of bruises.

Ari's one good eye cracked and she gurgled wet and rough, "You look like shit, Case." She spit blood.

"Told you. No excuses bitch."

"Fuck. No exchs." Nitrile gloved hands pulled us apart, and meds were shoving tubes into her, slapping dermals on her. They had a stretcher. Someone shone a light in my eye, I felt the cold slap of a dermal on my shoulder blade. "No excuses," I slurred as loud as I could. He said, "You shouldn't be standing up." I didn't know if Ari could hear. "I'm gonna be waiting!" They hit me with another dermal and goodnight.

It was like that for awhile, before I could go back to my bunk. Lot of debrief, I got a commendation, which mostly meant some extra cash in my account if I lived to spend it. Some looks. DeeDee came by and said "Mad respect." Scatter stopped in with some nearly not paint thinner whiskey. Squad leader came in and chewed me out. Then some days in my smaller, worse bed. I lay on my clothes and punched back painkillers and beauties, then got out of my space and flipped the latch on Ari's room to get into hers.

It looked the same. Laundry unlaundered, whiffs of fermented sweat and sex, crumpled up wrappers for hot sauce, thermalprint hentai, congealed shampoo and soap blocks. I held a tanktop to my face and inhaled, poked around her trash listlessly til I saw a scrap of print. Her last psyche, pages of red and yellow, warnings cautions, parts of it printed red on black. I banged out of her room with it clenched in my hot fist, storming along the counter spin corridors to Ring 2.

Medical. Deep breath. I pushed the door in and gave Ari the biggest smile I could muster and she asked, "Oh no. What's wrong," from where she was still ensconced in tubes to keep her lungs working while the biogels slowly closed her skin over. "What do you mean, what's wrong," I forgot to separte teeth for talking. Maybe a couple weeks before she was walking wounded. "You got a smile like you dropped a battery pack on your foot."

She looked better with her lips stitched back together. Her new front teeth were steel. I blinked and shook and pursed my lips so I wouldn't snarl when I unfolded the psyche chart she'd left balled up under her desk. Needles prickled along my feverish forehead. Tried to find words as she shifted her eyes away from mine and just said, "Oh. That."

I dropped it on her stomach. "Why? You could've- It... Why?" I've been called poetic in my time.

Ari started to bite her lip then stopped. Rubbed her eyes with her palms. "Ow. Everything hurts - Casey, what are you gonna do when you get outta here?"

"Because you can- Huh?" I blinked several more times rapidly. "Uh, I dunno. Little place with some twenty-threes? Maybe a dog? Nothing too special, just wanted a shot at like... living yeah?"

"But you think about it and... y'know, you see something?"

"Yeah, I guess, I mean a little. Who knows?"

She shut her eyes. "Well I didn't see anything." Squeezed her eyes. "I didn't think I'd- Case, I didn't come here for a shot at living. I... didn't see that. That idea." Tears slipped out of her eyes and she grimaced, shoved her hands against them. "I never planned to live that long," her breath hitched.

I didn't know what to do with my hands, whether to move over to her, or what. I nodded to her closed eyes, felt stupid. "Ari, I'd, uh, like it if you did."

She let out a long breath and opened damp eyes. "That's what, I mean, I met you. It's been good, and like. I realized I had started thinking about it."

"Thinking about it?"

"About being alive. Somewhere there, I mean, like, I thought about that I might want a future if it had you in it. And I guess I freaked about the idea it might not happen, and I wanted to keep you somewhere safe where I wasn't going to mess that up."

I folded my arms. "Ari, I fucking swear." She looked back at me. "I don't care how much it hurts, move the fuck over right now, I'm gonna hug you so bad you break another four ribs."

She slid a bit, and I managed to half lay in the bed around the IV tubes. I managed not to break her ribs. Big, stupid and hot tears dripped down my cheeks and nose as I squeezed, then grabbed her hands in mine. "Every day you wake up. I'll give you that future. You might not see yourself and that's okay because you'll see me, and I hope that's enough."

"I kinda kinda love you bitch," I clutched her tight. She kissed me, stitches rough against my lips, and smiled as she did. "You can stay," she said.

"I'll stay." And I did.

[kabutoden]

Just curious, what are your ships? (I swear I’m not a Nepeta kinnie.)

i thought about this forever its so funny. listen my buddies kin assigned me nepeta and i was like im NOT im NOT...

i had to think about this for a long time. i think the funniest thing about me is that honestly im really impartial about ships and like stories focusing on friendship more. like, complex friendships about buddies who fight and reunite or have slightly unhealthy relationships... thats really good stuff.

im so unaffected by cannon my favorite ships in homestuck would be entirely based on who makes content i like about them. ill read an essay and be like ok ill smoke that thats cool. fancontent wise i really like arasol<3 and <>, and karkat <> with any of his besties(sollux, kanaya, gamzee, rezi, dave.) solkat and davekat <3 are fine. that one bitch with the 12 page erikar essay makes me be like 'yeah im ok with this interpretation of the characters.' i dont really have an otp ever

i wish more was done with terezi dave and karkats friendship. i want to see them play together. honestly, karkats and terezis friendship is something i want to see way more of, because he respects her a lot and i think karkats like. whole goofy existence is really enjoyed by terezi. but those two need to define their friendship as not existing in a quadrant and instead being of mutual respect and appreciation. also dave and terezis friendship is literally sooooooooo fire. amazing even

i like the canon ships fine. rosemary, the meowrails, calliope and roxy, but i wish that vrirezi's <3< aspect was like more widely discussed. vriezi is my dirkjake if you will and i hate when it appears in the background of fics without that trainwreck of girl best friends being acknowledged as being like a dumpster fire for both girls but also magical. on that note dirkjake and dirkjohn are fine. l

i used to adore gamkat <> but ive fallen out of love with it due to how it puts too much pressure on the kat and gamzee's shown not really helping kat down from panic attacks in the comic. just want 2 see kat happy. i like it when its written healthy and cute though. gamkat <3 is my least favorite ship ever probably. it makes me barf.

[penroseparticle]

posts that did irreparable damage to my personality, sorry for who I am as a person

That's Pussy Babe!

Vine, just in general

THIS IS DIET COLA

BIG VAXXED PAPI UNTOUCHABLE

How dare you say we piss on the poor

it's spiritual sibling "Pegging Hung Clowns"

Now talk at me while I eat

Pull the trigger piglet

Liberals will stop at nothing to destroy Ronald Reagan's legacy

Save your money for our wedding

blasting rope to waluigi hentai

Grow up this is neopets

Radical Sandwich Anarchy

Gossip Girl title remixes (You probably know Go Piss Girl, the Peppa Pig one is the best one but its deleted, and this one is just funny

You can't touch music. BUT MUSIC CAN TOUCH YOU. "Oh, BARF"

Literally any BecauseImMissy WELCOME TO THE WORLD baby announcement compilation

Who wants to fling my awful body into the sun

Those are his hooves bitch

PubLIZity. Just in general

They're good dogs Brent

Arguing with an Aries (Can confirm as one of my best friends is an Aries and every argument no matter how dumb is this heated)

The story of the RMS Carpathia didn't irreparably damage me but healed me in ways I didn't know I was broken

GROOVE WITH ME BABY

LIFE COULD BE A LOT BETTER TOO

Ach I'm the exact same but a process has occured

You're part of the problem

"Who yells?" (But the actual Broad City exchange)

Muffy... your blog is getting a little... boring

while we're on Arthur, Muffy sis... the carbs

ALWAYS BERTA BEEF

DID MRS. PEPPER CHEAT ON MR. SALT (a new addition but an instant classic)

I'm Mister Sterling's right hand arm. man. I'm Mister Sterling everything. His Confidant. His best friend. His Silly Rabbit.

You know what I like about Rich Kids? NOTHING

RIP Superman Fellatio Fountain

Hellotefi's tiktok about Bill Gates

ETA:

HOW COULD I FORGET "SHOW ME YOUR DICK STEVE"

You should see the other guy

HEY. I THINK YOU'RE REALLY COOL. I LIKE YOU A LOT. MAYBE WE COULD hang out, or something

QUINCY WE ARE GOIN ON A ROAD TRIP

What are birds? We just don't know

Umami, the 5th emotion

OH NO GABBY. I GUESS NOW WE CAN'T GET OUR DREAM JOB AT FUCKING SUBWAY

[jackactuallywrites]

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN

let's say there's like a little get together with people from the base in a pub, MC is DOWN BAD for ghost, but she's a fucking pussy + ghost is scary + if he'd report her confession to HR it's instant over for shawty + ghost is scary + ghost is scary (and hot) MC is there with her 2 besties obviously and they're drunk and tease the fuck out of MC MC almost goes to talk to Ghost and there's some woman that's already talking to him and MC is like OH 🧍‍♀️and that bitch gets CLOSE

MC is like you know what IFEELSICKIHAVEAHEADACHEIMGOINGBACKTOTHEBASE BYE

IMAGINE ✨

YES THIS IS THE LEVEL OF DETAIL I LOVE

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Rating: Mild

Warnings: Drinking and barfing and Liverpudlians 🤢

Summary: You get drunk at the pub and your friends try to convince you to hit on Ghost

Notes: I will be beating the rest of this plot out of @xxven 😌 (also if you want to make a request make it this specific it’s perfect)

Word count: 946

The pub was supposed to be a pinnacle of Friday night entertainment. You went down there with your girls, you got a bunch of drinks down your neck, and then you got to what you did best: you sat and checked out what soldiers had come to the pub and ranked them based on their attractiveness. If you were lucky, you might get off with one in the alleyway behind the pub. It stunk of rancid piss and occasionally vomit, and more than once, you’d been spotted by one of your superiors and given guard duty in the midst of your soul-destroying headache as your punishment, not exactly what you’d call romantic, but it was fun.

Tonight, there were other things on your mind.

As usual, there was the typical collection of drunken louts and gorgeous men, a true pick and mix of good and bad, as well as a dream’s selection of women, each one entirely different from the last, yet completely spellbinding in their own way. However, none of those caught your attention. It was the terrifying man at the bar who drew your eye.

Lieutenant Ghost Riley.

Your friends hadn’t understood your attraction to the man initially, citing that how you could ever be attracted to someone if you never saw their face, but you’d pointed out his height, his muscles, the quiet confidence with which he carried himself, and they’d come around. They’d even admitted that there was something sexy about the way that he could be anyone under that mask; whatever they wanted him to be, a perfect blank slate for them to project all of their dreams and desires onto. Of course, the problem for Katy was the reputation that came along with the man, and for Liverpudlian Elle, the fact that he was from Manchester was a complete dealbreaker, but neither of those things had ever bothered you.

“So why don’t you go over and talk to him?” Katy didn’t seem to have any such problem going straight to men and asking for exactly what she wanted, and she expected the same from everyone. You didn’t consider yourself to be entirely socially anxious, but it was Ghost. Anyone with sense was nervous around that man, and you told Katy as much, “-even if you ignore the whole ‘terrifying’ thing, what if he reported me to HR? I could get shipped off to the other side of the world, at best.” Katy considered your words thoughtfully and then walked off, scoffing as she went, “Pussy.” Elle nodded sagely, “She’s right. Stop being chicken and talk to the man. I mean, if I was like that, I never would have gotten off with that fit marine.” You turned up your nose at her, “The married one who gave you the clap?” Elle rolled her eyes at you, “That was the other marine.” You hummed, “Well, God forbid I miss out on opportunities like that.”

A clinking of glasses foretold Katy’s return, a headache’s worth of shot glasses in her hand, and she set them down on the old wooden table. “Either you go and talk to him, or you do four shots.”

It was quite a conundrum for you; either there was going to be a whole lot of puking, or you’d have to drink a bunch of shots. You could see Ghost standing at the bar still, looming over everyone like a spectre, and the idea of going up and talking to him made your insides tense. Four shots was long from what you’d done in your uni days, so you took them one after the other, wincing at that familiar burn down your throat.

If you hadn’t already been several pints in, you might have cottoned onto the fact that Katy and Elle had planned on either outcome: either you would talk to Ghost tipsy, or you would talk to him ten minutes later absolutely sloshed. As it happened, four shots later, you had more than enough drunk courage to speak to the man, though your motor skills were no longer entirely on your side. In fact, it seemed as though the chairs and tables had conspired to get in your way as you tried to make your way to the bar, blocking your way long enough for you to see someone already at Ghost’s side.

You couldn’t see anything of their face, only the beret on their head and brunette hair, their body being just as nondescript and draped in camouflage as the rest of the bodies in the pub, but it was enough. The alcohol had been behaving well enough in your stomach, yet now that you were confronted with having lost your opportunity with Ghost, it was beginning to roil and churn within you, the prickling of acid at the back of your throat. Your only saving grace now was that you knew where the exits were, and you tripped and stumbled over the chairs and legs until you were finally out in the cold open air, your own feet seeming to betray you, and you fell to your knees, your hands on the freezing concrete as you fought to keep control of your stomach. You felt the familiar hand of Katy on your back, gently rubbing as Elle tucked the loose strands of hair out of your face and placed a glass of water in front of you. They had been the instruments of your destruction, yet they were there to save you as well, a delicate balance perfected over years of sisterhood.

“It’ll be okay,” Katy cooed, “he didn’t see.” Elle agreed, “Yeah, nobody saw. This will all be a bad memory soon enough.”

[copaganda-clobberfest]

WELCOME

TO THE FIRST ROUND OF THE COPAGANDA CLOBBERFEST!

“You know that trope? That one trope *Everyone* hates? The trope in which a well meaning antagonist to our heroes, one looking out for the good of a certain community, suddenly does something horrible and drastic to make not only them, but the ideology they stand for the most villainous of all?”

NOW IS THE TIME TO BATTLE THEM OUT! Like Ken dolls, fighting for survival! Like your Polly pockets discarded in the closet, we’ll see which of these bitches jumped that slippery slope harder! Whose character did numbers on y’all, and blew up a bunch of grandmas and babies and hospitals with it!

ROUND ONE

SQUEALER from SHIN SEKAI YORI vs THE WHITE FANG from RWBY

Squealer propaganda (TW for disturbing themes, as well as spoilers for the anime)

“he is a human man who has descended from a long line of humans who were genetically engineered, tortured, studied like literal rodents, selectively bred, and worse by a population of other humans with psychic powers. to show that he is in the wrong, he slaughters the elderly, infirm, children, murders two 14 year olds in particular and uses their child as a living weapon, and lobotomizes his mother in an effort to be recognized as human and treated better than literal garbage.”

White Fang propaganda (TW for Racism, Branding, Slavery, Antisemitism):

“As a Jewish person, I stopped watching RWBY around the beginning of s5 when Adam (the main White Fang antagonist) said that the goal of the White Fang was to replace humans in society. It came SO shortly after those riots where people where chanting "Jews will not replace us" and it made me so sick to my stomach to watch a conspiracy theory like that actually play out on screen that I hard stopped watching a show I'd been highkey obsessed with for years.”

“The evilest moment the writers wrote for their literal “minorities are secretly just wanting power over the whites” scapegoat character involves said character revealing he was not only enslaved but also was branded with a cattle prod over his eye.”

“The White Fang is the only organization fighting for the rights of the Faunus, the in-universe minority group meant to be an allegory for poc, and they’re portrayed as ruthless terrorists who are conveniently less white than the privileged minorities who “redeem” them. A majority of the actual poc who are also Faunus have “allusions” to the Jungle Book, and if you know the Jungle Book’s author and the certain other thing he wrote, you’d Barf at how racist that really is. The white comfort is strong in this Texan show. Also, said terrorists in this show are based off the real-world Black Panther Party, which just makes this whole thing feel like a special on Fox News!”

“The first indigenous-coded character and she’s a terrorist. Like what real life native Americans are to this day dubbed as for simply wanting their rights.”

Always feel free to rb with more propaganda :)

[yakumtsaki]

We're back for the last update before Barflina fucks off to college! This is one giant update I have to split in 2 parts them thanks to the liferuining new 30 pics limit, I will post part 2 right after this one. I don't mean to be dramatic but the universe cannot contain my hatred for the new post editor. At least I have Wendi looking all cute and regal.

-I will NEVER have kittens with Shinok, I hate him and his stupid, not coordinated grey leg coloring!

What?? WHO CARES

-I care, look at my beautiful cohesive coat! His genes would ruin it and our kids would be freaks!

-Jimbo, on the other hand, is a perfect specimen! Now that's a good addition to my gene pool!

Jimbo, the leopard print, custom slider freakshow DOG is a perfect specimen for you, Wendi the CAT. I'm starting to suspect you're a cross-species perv and Shinnok's legs aren't the problem here.

-Shut it! Leave that elderly deer bitch Veronica, Jim, and run away with me!

-Oh Wendi, I don't know, it seems wrong..

-I hear you, baby, but maybe it's so wrong.. it's right?

-KEEP YOUR SLUTTY PERVERTED WIFE AWAY FROM MY MAN, SHINNOK

-HOW AM I THE ONE GETTING BEAT UP I HATE THIS HOUSE I HATE MY LIFE

-I'M RUNNING AWAY AND NEVER COMING BACK, YOU CAN KISS THE CAT LEGACY GOODBYE!!!

10 seconds later:

-Ok I'm back, just in time for my birthday!

Happy birthday, Shinnok, your present is your dad dying at the exact same time. WTF @ game timing.

-Daddy no!

-I'm off to join your mother in cat heaven, Shinnok!

-But Mom hated you!

-Oh right she did, well she's probably in Hell anyway. Guard those mismatched grey legs you got from me, they are my legacy!

-I will Dad! I will!!

RIP Klaus, you were a sweetheart, I'm sorry you had to mate with Kitana💔

Xander and Sandy are each other's fav and Sandy is constantly late for work because she's fucking around playing with him. I'd like to remind you guys that I've been trying to get her to the top of the culinary career since SOPHITO AND SUGAR WERE CHILDREN

-B̷U̴T ̸I ̷L̷O̷V̴E̵ XA̴N̸D̵E̶R̵🧟‍♀️

Will you get your zombie ass to work, Xander will be here when you come back!

NEVER MIND. WHY CAN'T THIS GAME SPACE OUT THE PET DEATHS A LITTLE GOOD GOD.

RIP Xander, you were the best dog we've had so far, you were so good and loyal and kept running into fires with your dumbass owners. I'll miss you💔

-I ̴D̶I̵D̶ ̶I̷T, I F̷I̸N̷A̴L̷L̶Y̵ ̵D̴I̸D̵ ̶I̸T̶! W̴H̵E̷R̷E̵'̸S̶ M̵Y ̸D̵O̷G̷ ̴BA̷B̷Y🧟‍♀️

Sandy I'm so happy for you, and also I'd like to talk to you about the law of equivalent exchange.

Could it be that there are too many people in this house?? Could it??? I'm starting to feel it's possible.

OH FFS, VERONICA

AWWWW they have Jimbo's spots, so cute! God this lot is gonna explode.

SO CUTE. MY HEART

Time for Liz's cucky birthday party with no guests because I'm already tempting fate with this lot.

-Thank you, balloons, for protecting the viewing public from Failina's face. -This face has been making out with Meadow Thayer while you're getting rejected by the Tricou Don clones. -SHUT UP I'LL KILL YOU -Can I blow my candles now? -Not yet, Mom, I'm not done bringing up Barf's humiliating dating failures.

Please go ahead, Liz, and also where the hell is your husband.

-Playing catch with Sugar.

Of course he is.

-Happy birthday to me!

Do you feel any different, other than this awful outfit that I'm changing asap?

-Now that you mention it I do..

-..I feel the inexplicable need to fight with my 100yo mother-in-law despite the fact we're friends!

Liz wtf WHY

-There can only be one cunty matriarch around here and it is I! And also I'm a way better lawyer than you ever were! Now let me just get my makeover-

-So I can berate you some more!

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING. Liz wtf is your problem??? It's literally like a switch flipped as soon as she aged up, what on earth.

-I EAT LITTLE 60YOS LIKE YOU FOR BREAKFAST, BITCH

She does, Liz, she really does. You come at the queen, you best not miss! But I still don't get why this feud erupted out of nowhere??

Oh my God.. IT'S BARFLINA. We have the quite possibly first case in history where it isn't the adults exposing the children to violence and setting abusive patterns, it's the other way around!!! YOU TWO ARE TEARING THIS FAMILY APART, EVEN SHAJAR AND HER 1 NICE POINT ARE HORRIFIED -GOOD, THIS FAMILY CAN GO TO HELL!!! FROM ITS ASHES MY NEW DYNASTY WILL RISE -SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOUR DYNASTY ALREADY -YOU'LL NEVER HAVE A DYNASTY BECAUSE NO ONE WILL EVEN DATE YOU -THEY SO WILL AND THEY'LL BE BETTER THAN YOUR BIMBO -TAKE HER NAME OUT OF YOUR GROSS MISSHAPEN MOUTH -WE HAVE THE SAME MOUTH, MORON -YA BUT MINE HAS BEEN KISSED, INCEL -I'LL KILL YOU -I'LL KILL YOU MORE

-Dad, someone will date me, right?? -Of course they will, son! You'll be a hoe, like your dad was before you! -But no one wants to date me! You had 50 first dates, I clearly get my genes from you but not the success! -Well, you'll have to relax and play it cool. You come across a little neurotic and/or psychotic. You get that from your mom. -You're right, Dad, I won't call the matchmaker until I'm as relaxed as one of those pimples chilling on Failina's gross oily forehead!

-Ah, nothing more relaxing than a nice, hot cup of tea..

-..with the view of Uncle Sugar setting Sandy's spine back in place. -I̸T FE̵L̸L ̴O̸F̷F🧟‍♀️ -Ok, I'm ready for my date!

See you in part 2, coming right up!

[writingcold]

Fireside

Thank you goes out to @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine for creating this moodboard and the tip of the hat for using it as inspiration. This was going to be a smutty, smutty mess at first, but, alas - it's a strange, fluffy concoction. There's nothing to really warn about other than a few sexual references, a tiny amount of alcohol, but mostly just stupid shit and of course, bad language and grammar. Sorry for the typos - this is barely edited.

Pairing: Jake x fem reader insert

Word Count: approx 5700

Work had been an absolute nightmare.  Your tyrant boss had been trying to revoke the approval of your vacation time, but the HR angels sheltered you.  They were fast to point out that your vacation had already been ‘postponed’ three times in the past fourteen months.  Not to mention, you had only used a few actual sick days during that time.  The fact that the fucker paid you well was no excuse to expect you not to be a human being and actually want time off.  

      You had your bag packed and waiting by the door of your apartment.  All you had to do was shed your work clothes, shove some food in your face, send a text to Jake that you were on your way, and hit the road.  You had a three hour drive ahead of you.  Cell service was spotty in the area of the cabin, so you could only hope that he remembered to turn the booster on inside - but even then, service was iffy at best.  You put on your most favoritest playlist that will keep you awake for the drive.  Windows down, wind in your hair, and coffee at your side, you depart.

     Josh’s “traffic was a bitch” voice is pumping through your head only twenty minutes into the ride.  It seems everyone had decided to leave town all at the same time, and the scheduled summer road construction has barfed all over your route.  You are barely idling forward for miles.  You glance at your phone when you are once again at a standstill.  Jake texted to be careful. You scold yourself.  You knew you should have let him come into the city and then drive you both out the next day.  You could have had drinks at that new bar down the street and supper at the diner.  You could have caught up nicely in the quiet of your apartment.  However, it did not make sense to have him drive hours to your place when the cabin was essentially the halfway point between your home and his landing spot in Nashville.      

     You are more than an hour behind when you finally make the turn that would take you on the winding county roads that snaked up through the hills and forest.  And it was dark.  So fucking dark.  The kind of dark when you may have your brights on, but you are still straining to see.  You fight off the urge to lay into the gas pedal, despite your tardiness; despite your urgency to get to your destination.  It has been weeks since you’ve seen your mate.  He has been on the road with a tour while you toiled away at your 9-5 job.  The idea of quitting the job tickles and prickles at the back of your thoughts, but in truth, you are too independent to throw your work to the wind and give up many of the comforts that the paycheck has afforded you.

      A flash of eyes at the side and you hit the brakes just as a deer steps onto the shoulder.  The doe stares at your headlights as your heart pounds, hoping upon hope that you can bring your car to a stop before striking it.  Without a care, she strolls across, stopping every few steps like she knows you are trying to get somewhere where a very handsome man is waiting for you.  A second doe strolls out of the ditch, following her friend.

      Out of frustration, a whole conversation breaks out in your mind as the damnable beasts linger in the road, staring you down like you had nothing better to do… 

Deer 1: “Oh look, Heidi - looks like she’s on a mission.”

Deer 2: “Hmmmmmm… Booty call for sure.”  

Deer 1: “What’s the rush, sweetheart?  Oooo - look Heidi!  The paint is sooo shiny when her lights hit it.  Makes me think those mushrooms were a bit wonky…  But it looks so pretty!  So many colors…”

Deer 2: “Wow.  Never thought reflective paint could be so shimmery...”

Deer 1:  “I bet her guy’s - gender neutral of course - ass is that sparkly - but in that weird human pasty kind of way.”

    **You honk the horn in an effort to startle them away.  Frustration bubbles in your core, threatening to boil over the longer these animals are in the road.  The bigger of the two does raises her head up and looks directly at you and you can swear, the bitch is throwing sass your direction.**

Deer 1: “Bitch, please.”

Deer 2: “You know, them ferns over there looking pretty good, Frannie.”

Deer 1: “Honk that metal coffin at me…  Lord.  Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a rush to get railed.”

     **You growl.  You literally growl as the two does finally get over to the other side of the road.  You slowly ease off the break and move to press the accelerator only to have one jump back into the road.  You slam the break with a frustrated howl.**

Deer 2: “Ha!  Gotcha!”

Deer 1:  “You so funny, Heidi.  Did you see those eyes pop!  I thought they were gonna come out of her damn head.  Come on.  Whoever she’s gettin’ too probably doesn’t look much better than an ass end of a moose.”

      You are pretty sure that they are laughing at you as they trail away.  Aside from a very imaginary, snarky conversation between two deer, you regroup and ease back into a good pace.  You are totally out of coffee and water and your bladder is next to complain.  You are still ninety minutes from the cabin.  You take a side step, heading for a little country store in hopes that it did not close early.  A few miles to the east and the store comes into sight.  Most would chalk it up as too scary to stop. It may be a shack on the outside, with dim lighting across the four space parking lot, complete with a buzzing, half functioning sign that left one to wonder if anyone who went into the establishment came back out with all of their appendages; however, this was a place you knew well.  You bounce out of the car and wave at the couple behind the counter as you head straight for the restroom.  

      Relieved, you loop around to the coffee stand and fix yourself another cup of your favorite hot beverage.  You grab a water bottle before heading up to the register.  You also spot some of Jake’s favorite little treats, fresh made and smiling at you.  Exchanging pleasantries with the owners, you smile as you leave with a little wave.  You check your phone before you start the engine.  Two hours late.  A slow, shredded ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth through your teeth, past your lips and into the world.  There are three texts from Jake - all just checking in - all three cool tempered and ranging from four to twelve words each.  You text him that you are at Spencer's store and getting back on the road.  You turn on a heavier playlist in hopes of keeping your wits about you.  The next stretch was a meandering thread through curves with the woods nearly right up against both sides of the road and sheer drop off bluffs that would take you higher into the hills.  You knew it well enough, but it always was a bit off putting to know no one - nobody existed along the stretch of dense state forest.  

      The closer to the cabin you get, the more relaxed you are.  You are belting out one of your favorite songs into the void.  Jake is only forty minutes away.  Yup.  40.  You can do this.  The little spark in your core sits up as you allow yourself to picture him waiting with beer in hand, a smirk on those lush lips that would welcome you home.  You know the first few days would be an absolute frenzy of sex and closeness and more sex and more togetherness.  Yeah… it was the shit you currently lived for…

      “Son of a bitch!”  you scream out as you slam on the breaks.

      A porcupine is fucking meandering down the middle of the road in no hurry at all.  You can picture it even singing as it moves along.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo     You curse - out loud and loudly as the creature swerves left to right and back again completely oblivious to your existence.  You dare not roll the car forward and squish the poor beast.  What kind of a person are you for even thinking that?  Fuck.  Come on.  This is worse than the fucker with the Stop/Slow sign that is bored standing there directing traffic and decides to cause a little fuckery to brighten their day by being super fast with their power hungry sign management skills.    

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

    OK - this is getting ridiculous.  You are less than 40 minutes away from the sexiest man on the entire planet.  He is waiting for you.  Are you really going to let this stupid creature get in your way?

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

     Motherfucker.  Did that thing really just turn and cackle at you?  Maybe.  You narrow your eyes as it begins to skitter off in what may be the ditch… Nope.  Back to the center of the road.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

    You are practically pounding the steering wheel with anxious fingertips.  Out of nowhere, a huge bird swoops down and nearly hits your windshield.  You scream and flinch like the damn thing is going to rip you out of the car and carry you away.  The porcupine has suddenly made a mad dash to safety; his stupid little song silenced.  Collecting yourself, you make a mental note that you are going to have the biggest, stiffest drink known to man the moment you arrive at the cabin.  No ifs.  No ands.  No fucking buts about it.  Whatever was in the damn air that was making this drive abnormally weird certainly did not have the best intentions towards you.

     Taking a sip of your once scalding hot beverage, you chance it and down it as it’s that magic temp where it only is perfect for a time window that only god and physics people can figure out but can’t create to stay that way for longer than twenty seconds.  You tuck your mug back into its spot and readjust in your seat just as a particularly lovely ditty comes on - all heavy guitars and banging lyrics.  You find yourself screeching out at the top of your lungs as you relax, foot pressed a little harder on the gas than you knew you should, but damn - you were less than thirty minutes away from your sex god demon boyfriend and you could give a shit if something…

      You pull your foot back as a shadow creeps at the edge of the road several car lengths ahead.  It is startling.  You can’t figure out what the hell it was - just big and dark, matching the midnight of the sky.  There it was again - movement. All shadowy and spooky - just on the fringe ahead…  Your eyes narrow.  Your whole focus is on that shadow as you crawl your car forward.  You hope like hell it’s not like some crazy stupid forest monster that was going to disappear your ass.  At the same time you’re too scared to actually fully stop the vehicle in the case that it is some forest cryptid that is going to eat your face off and drag you into the nether never to be seen again.  You see the shadow again, this time it’s like it’s lurking.  You pull the wheel to maneuver the car further into the on-coming lane and decide to floor it.  It’s probably just a bear, but to be safe, you just gun that damn engine and take off like a shot.  Your heart is pounding and your eyes refuse to focus on anything but the road ahead of you.  

      Finally…  FINALLY you arrive at the turn for the drive back to the cabin.  The driveway is just over three quarters of a mile, leading you back into the woods, winding up a hill that you dare not navigate during the winter.  The cabin is all lit up on the inside, sending a warm, orange glow across the soft roll of the hill and splashing through the tree trunks and ferns that made up the front yard.  You pull in next to Jake’s truck, cutting the engine off and sitting for a long moment.  Never had you ever had such a ride like the one you just experienced.  Traffic.  Possessed animals.  Or was it more like you are just being too desperate to get to this hill and your man that every little bump turned into fucking mountains that felt like you had to scale them in truly strange, horrific fashion.

      Your eyes skate over the kitchen window, hoping that perhaps he was standing waiting, watching for you.  Instead, no shadow passes the paned glass.  You grab a garbage bag and shove your remnants of the drive into it before sliding out and righting yourself under the velvet night.  The void of fellow humans fills you.  It’s all crickets and frogs and breeze through the poplars and birch and oak and pines that welcomes you home.  Yanking your bag from the backseat and tossing your garbage in the bin, you move towards the door.  Inside is small, but cozy.  The kitchen bleeds into the dining and living rooms with windows everywhere.  The soft textures meet the rough in just the right balance that makes you sigh, knowing that you are safe and warm.  

      You call out for him, but there’s no answer.  You drop your bag in the loft bedroom, a grin passing your mouth at the sight of his own stuff haphazardly tossed around and set out for the extended week to come.  You duck back downstairs, catching sight of a flicker in the backyard.  Taking a moment, you look out to see the silken amber glow and soft shadowing of a campfire dancing against the tree trunks.  You can just make out Jake’s form, sitting in one of the adirondack chairs, his guitar across his lap, leg stretched out and resting against the large stones of the fire pit.  A wave of comfort washes over you as you descend down into the basement to the walkout that would lead you directly to him.  

      Softly closing the screen door behind you, you are wrapped in the soft strumming of his playing and the pops and crackles of the fire.  He glances over his shoulder, his eyes searching for you.  The corner of his mouth tugs as you approach.  He sets the guitar to the side before standing to greet you.  Without warning, you latch onto him, pressing your body flush to his, your mouth landing against his in a sinful, needy kiss.  He is quick to wrap his arms around you, hands brushing against your waist before folding up against your back.  A deep rumble bubbles from his chest as he allows you to lean into him.  One of your hands lands against the stubble on his cheek while the other pushes into his hair.  You find yourself intoxicated instantly from his touch; his taste; his presence.  

      “Damn, I missed you,”  he whispers as he draws in a breath.  “I was starting to worry.”

      “Sure,”  you quip as your eyes continue to trace across his face, looking for anything that may have changed in the weeks of separation.  “You sure look like it.”

      He dips his chin shyly.  “Aw, I was just about to play some pretty angsty shit to see if that would help.”  

      The sound of his laughter fills you as he swings your body around against his.  His hands dig into your hips and your ass and your tummy as his touch seems to be everywhere suddenly.  You are not much better.  Your hands are already running up the front of his chopped up t-shirt, searching for skin and warmth and just…  Jake.

      “Awfully needy,”  he sighs as you practically yank and shred the fabric from his body in the not usual route of just sliding it off.  

      You growl, and you are not embarrassed by it.  After your ride, you just needed all of him and all of him in a rough, mean, sloppy way that you would never fully articulate, but he always seemed to understand what exactly you needed anyway.  His wicked chuckle as he discards the shirt away from the fire - don’t ask.  It would not have been the first time he lost a garment to the flames through your need.  

      You straighten up your back, plaster your most serious face you can muster and capture his full, shirtless attention.  “I need you to rail the shit out of me and this shitty assed drive up here.  I need you to do that now.”

      He rolls his lips in between his teeth.  His eyes are a liquid emotion that you barely register before it seems like your clothes are smoldering in their near correct places.  He clears his throat as if the depth of the expectation has been launched at his brain with full intent of harm or… is there an or, really?

       You suck in a breath across your teeth.  “I appreciate your romantic gesture here.  I do.  But…”

      He gulps a breath before you can retreat from your need.  “Okay.  Just give me a minute.  I’ll take care of this out here.  I’ll meet you inside.”

      “‘K…”  You nod as he turns you back towards the cabin with a little swat on your butt.  “I’m sorry I-”

       “Nope.  You’ve made it loud and clear what you need,”  he says as he drags the hose closer, beginning to spray the lovely fire that he had going.  “Just head on up to bed and I’ll be there in a minute.”

      For a moment, you are frozen.  Did you really demand what you think you just did… from Jake?  You sip in a breath as his dark eyes climb up your body as he’s bent down, scattering the embers of the campfire.  Oh.  Committed now and all…  

      You turn and move back towards the cabin.  Through the basement door and up the creaky stairs into the main space.  You decide a sip of courage would do you some good before he gets inside.  You pull the tequila from the cupboard and shakily pour yourself a shot into a lowball before dousing it with some ginger beer from the fridge.  You barely can carry the glass up the stairs into the bedroom.  Your brain is only being edged in speed by your heart.  Both are racing out of control.  You peek out the window, seeing his shadowed outline, giving the now blackened pit a final stir to ensure the flame is completely out.  You watch like a stalker as he bends to retrieve his guitar, beer, and finally his smokes before making his way towards the cabin.  A swallowed ‘fuck’ buries itself in your throat as you turn away.  The drink dribbles down your chin as you rush to the only bathroom.  

     Your eyes are completely blasted by the not as bright as you think lights.  You take another drink of your cocktail before dropping it down to the counter.  You hear him walking through the living room and back to the kitchen.  The sharp snaps of lightswitches being turned off sends jolts up your spine.  You drag your fingers through your hair in some kind of attempt to straighten yourself up.  You slide out of your pants and road weary shirt before you start running water to get warm in the sink.  The least you can do is freshen up and get the travel tar off your skin before whatever the hell he’s going to do to you gets done.

     Cleaned up, washed up, and nearly looking human, you reach for one of his t-shirts just as you hear his footfalls start up the stairs towards you.  You take the last sip of your tequila and ginger as he pauses to switch off the stairway lights, effectively announcing his arrival.  A shaky breath escapes your lips as you set your glass down on the dresser before turning towards him.  He stands at the head of the stairs, his hands calm at his sides.  His dark eyes are impossibly full of silk and velvet and lust and longing that you would think that it would spill out across the crest of his cheekbones and land on his pillowed mouth.  Or maybe, that is just you projecting everything that is suddenly erupting from every pore of your skin.  

     “Hey, handsome,” he says, his voice full of rasp as the corner of his mouth curls in a smile.

      “Hey, pretty,”  you whisper, unable to rip your eyes from the curve of his belly as it streams down the distinct v that drifts beneath his crumpled linen pants.

     “I’m surprised you’re still wearing clothes,”  he remarks, remaining rooted to his spot, his body giving no clues of what would happen next.

      You grin as you swirl a fingertip at the hem of the t-shirt just enough to flirt the edge to reveal the barely there panties that you are sporting.  His head tilts ever so slightly as a soft hum passes his lips.  You slowly turn your back to him, your fingers skating over the swell of your ass as your ghost the fabric up your sides in a surprisingly graceful maneuver as you dip your chin to look at him over your shoulder.  He raises an eyebrow and licks at his lip, just as a lock of your hair drifts across your brow in what you hope is an oh so sexy moment.  

      “Impressed?”  you coo as you drag the fabric up until you can bring it over your head.

      He lets out an amused laugh.  “Always,”  he sighs, still not moving.  “Get on the bed.  Lay down on your belly.”

      You comply because let’s face it - you’ve presented your need, why fight it?  You feel the tip of his callused finger trace across your ankle before skating up one calf and give a little tickle behind your knee.  Just as you’re folding your arms under your pillow to get more comfortable, he grabs you by the ankles and yanks you down.  You let out a surprised yelp, watching as he knocks off the pillows before he takes one wrist in between his fingers.

      You watch as he stretches your arms up towards the headboard, hooking your fingers to the edge of the bed.  “Both hands stay right here.  Doesn’t matter if you are on your belly or on your back.  Do you understand?”

      You feel your skin grow hot at the sound of authority in his tone.  You nod as you whisper out an affirmation.  He leans into you, planting a little kiss to your forehead with a smile.  One hand lands in the middle of your bare back and glides down the expanse of skin, stopping only for a moment before hooking into the fabric of your undies and pulling them down and off in a painfully slow fashion that allowed each of his fingers brush against the insides of your legs on their journey down.  Your breath quickens as you feel him move away from you, only to return his path on the other side of the bed, his hands passing over you like silk - teasing, touching, hovering, pressing.  Everywhere in their wake, his touch is leaving gooseflesh and a scorch of desire for more.  

      He disappears for a moment, leaving a vacuum of silence that weighs on you heavily.  The coil of anticipation begins to strangle you as the thunk of his boots hitting the floor strikes your ears, followed by the clank of his belt knocking on the top of the dresser.  You can picture him as he slowly undresses - each piece landing in a designated spot for ease of use in the morning.  A little hum slides through his lips as he grows nearer to you, his rings striking the nightstand and you turn your head to look at how he grins to himself and continues on like he didn’t have a naked you stretched across the bed like a trophy.  You listen as he steps into the bathroom.  That spring of anticipation is turning into outright frustration.  You sink your teeth into the tender flesh of your arm in hopes of summoning an ounce of patience.  

      “Look at you,”  he says, his voice rough with rasp.  “It’s like your whole body is vibrating.  Do you need this that badly?”

       “Fuck,”  you breath out.

      “What happened between home and here?”  he asks gently, while still keeping himself away.

      “I almost lost my damn vacation because of the boss,”  you start with a low grumble, the venom spilling out on the mattress beneath you.  “Can you believe that?  He literally went to HR and tried to have me fired if I didn’t show up next week.  Which I’m not.  I’m not going in.  HR insisted that I must take my time.”

      “I know you love your job, but maybe-”

      You shake your head.  “I’m not ready to go - no matter how fucked up he is.  There are still more aspects to the job that do not involve him that I love.”

      “Okay,”  he whispers as he moves in between your outstretched legs, but not yet moving onto the bed.  He ghosts his fingertips across your calves, back and forth, the pressure gaining traction with each pass until he’s literally dragging his hands up and down your legs like a massage.  “What else has you in these knots?”

       Your eyes roll under his care before you harken back to the drive.  “Ugh - it was like everyone had the same idea to leave the city all at the same moment, and the construction…”

       “Yeah,”  he agreed, pressing forward past your knees and into the tender skin of your thighs, mirroring his technique he had just given your calves.  “It’s so bad this year.”

       “It was down to one damn lane for miles and there’s always that one asshole that has to wait until last minute to merge and fuck everyone else who planned ahead,”  you continue, unable to hide the squeak as he hits a few stress knots about mid-thigh.

       He lets out a supportive hum as he moves up onto the mattress, straddling your thighs.  He continues to massage his way up your body in a delicious, albeit slow, manner.

       “It was like every animal was on the road coming up here,”  you scoff, leaning into his hands as he drags them up your hips.  “I swear there was an edict that was not going to allow me to actually get here.”

      “And yet,”  he whispers, digging the heels of his palms into the tops of your ass, “here you are, naked and lovely before me.”

      “Almost three hours late…”  you begin to grouse until his fingers dig into the tension in your low back.  You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as a whorish moan escapes.  

      “You like that, huh,”  he whispers against your shoulder as he repeats the move to elicit the same reaction.  “Oh my.”

      You feel yourself melting into the mattress under his care.  “I just…  oh fuuuuck…”

      He drags his fingertips hard down on either side of your spine before retreating back upwards to your shoulders.  You feel his weight against the meat of your butt as he uses you to support himself.  He leans down, placing featherlight kisses against the back of your neck.  “I’ve missed you,” he whispers into your hair before he laps at the back of your ear.

     You let go of a hot gasp as he removes his proximity away.  The heels of both hands press along the ridge of your shoulders, dragging across to the mattress.  A deep, throaty groan escapes you as he repeats the move followed by gentle finger presses that drag down along your flanks.

     “I thought I would never get here,”  you sigh as his fingers rain down along your ribs on both sides.  “I did get you some of those little bars that you like from Spencer’s.”

     He hummed as he moved off your hips to one side of the bed.  “Thank you.  Maybe we can have them later.”

      He asks you to roll onto your back with a soft reminder of where to keep your hands.  You obey, feeling like a fish on a spit, but you do it anyway.  He lets out a quiet laugh as he swipes your hair that has fallen across your face.  The low light of the room bounces off his features, making him look all the more handsome.  Or maybe that was the edge of the tequila messing with you.  Either way, you don’t care.  He’s the prettiest thing your tired eyes have seen all day.  He grins as he slides away from your side.  He begins to rub at the arches of your feet.  Firm pressure strikes knots you were not aware existed are stuck and you gasp and grimace as he continues to massage along without much expression.  Those dark eyes sparkle at you as your body feels like it’s melting into the mattress under his care.  

      His fingers drift upwards and return down.  You wanted to growl out that he was the world’s biggest tease, but your mouth stretched in a yawn instead.  As he pulled his frame in between your legs once more, climbing up onto the mattress, your eyelids felt like they were fluttering in the wind as you struggled against them.

     “Sleepy, love?”  he asked, the bass of his voice rippling across your skin as he brushed his lip across the tender skin of your belly.

      He rolls those sinful eyes up across and through your cleavage, pinning your gaze and making your breathing hitch.  Once more, his palms graze across your hips, pressing upward to your flanks in a press that makes you ooze deeper into relaxation.

     “If I didn’t know better, Jakey,”  you whisper as you desperately try to stifle another yawn, “you’re trying to get me to relax so much that I go to sleep.”

      “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”  he chuckles as he begins to cover your body with his own.

      His heat invades every inch of you as you melt under him.  His lips pass over your mouth before landing against the bump of your chin.  Slowly, he pushes his hands against your stretched out arms, lacing his fingers with your own.  He pulled his shoulders back a bit so as to look down into your face.

     “And you want me to rail the shit out of you,”  he says as you struggle to keep your focus.  His grin tugs a little more as you cover your yawn once more.

      “Uh huh,”  you sigh as he starts to plant tender kisses against your throat.

      “You want me to do what exactly?”  he whisper asks into your skin before he presses his tongue against the hollow of your collarbone.

       The heat of his body mixed with the silk of his voice begins to tug in ways that are opposite of what you want.  Your eyes are rolling back in your head, but not with pleasure.  You gasp out, but it’s a yawn that fills the air around you.  Your skin and bones feel heavy.  But he continues to slowly kiss and lap at your skin.  He’s in no hurry to fulfill your voiced wishes.  You become mesmerized as his hands leave hot, relaxed trails up and down your sides and arms.  

      “Jake,”  you manage, voice thick with sleep and comfort.

      “Yeah, baby?”  he asks, barely shifting his weight against you.  “You ready?”

14 hours later…

       You sit up in a sun filled room - alone.  There is no luscious ache to your thighs.  There’s no love marks on your tummy.  There are no remnants of the previous night at all.  You struggle to untangle yourself from the sheets to fly into the bathroom for relief and a clean up.  The scent of coffee and cooking strikes your nose as you’re dragging a t-shirt and undies on.  You can hear soft music in the air as you fight with the zipper on your bag to at least retrieve a pair of shorts. 

      You move down the stairs to find Jake, bare chested and a steaming cup in hand while he stirs eggs in the cast iron on the cooktop.  His hair is in a sloppy tiny pony that is hanging on for dear life.  His face is content as he turns towards you, surprise in his eyes.

      “You’re alive,”  he teases as you move towards him.

      You wait for him to set his cup down and turn off the stove before moving up against him.  Your hands slide across his shoulders and to his back as he pulls you in, kissing you sweetly.

      “I can’t believe I fell asleep,”  you said, blushing and hiding your face in his neck.

      “And I was railing you so good, too, baby,”  he jabs with a laugh.

      You gasp and slap at his shoulder, even though you are still hiding your face from him.  He takes your chin in hand and maneuvers you around to see you.  There is nothing but warmth and good humor and love.  He pecks your mouth and lets you go.  You watch as he slides eggs on plates along with biscuits.  He points to the coffee and walks past you.

      “Better eat up, y/n,”  he said with a firm tone.  “You’re gonna need your strength.”

      You pour yourself a cup, fixing it how you like it before joining him at the table.  “Yeah?  Why’s that?”

      “Oh, so demanding last night and then you just…”   He grins and lets out a little laugh that fills you with a flutter as he pretends to fall asleep dramatically.  “It’s now my turn.”

*****

Hey - I made it through my second reader insert! Whoa! Hope you liked it. Let me know. I know it's weird. 🤪🤪 If you'd like to be tagged for my work, let me know or you can join here

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