#both times ive gone there it has ended so badly

[quixoticanarchy]

if you can eat bread without Problems i hope you are grateful also if you're ever thinking of giving up that ability or something uh hit me up. i don't have anything good to trade for it but i think it's my turn with the functional digestive system. pls. anyone?

[levissslutt]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕

Jey Uso x black fem

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word count : 3.4k

Enjoy : )

My heels echoed off the walls as I clicked down the hallway, pausing in front of his door. Before I could raise my hand up to knock on the door, it swung open revealing a shirtless, tired looking Jey. I tried my best to keep my eyes only on his, but good lord he was fine.

Jey and I had been working together for 5 years now and every single time I saw him, it took my breathe away. He was sweet and gentle despite the persona he has to push for the crowd. A teddy bear If you will. 

"There's my girl, I been looking for you", he grinned. My girl ? Did he really just call me that. My heart fluttered as I stepped around him into his changing room. "I been meaning to ask you about something." His previous smirk fading a bit, but not all the way gone. "How do you feel about coming to Cali with me, nothing crazy just my peoples getting together for a cookout." 

I took a seat on the couch that lined the back wall of his room, pretending to think, lifting my chin up and tapping with my index finger. That earned me a slight chuckle from Jey. "Stop playing, my peoples already love you, even though yo ass playing." He mumbled the last bit, but I still heard it. I knew what he was referring to, I wasn't slow and I knew he wasn't either. 

--

I think we fell for each other the second I rounded the corner and head butted him by accident the first day we met. Literally and physically. I was all, but running to a meeting I was late to so the impact of my big ass head sent us both tumbling to the floor, and yet all he was doing was laughing. All 32 teeth showing. He smelled like shea butter, cedar-wood and warm hugs, and the second he helped me off the floor I fell into daze when I looked into those beautiful chocolatey eyes. 

Never in my life would I describe a person they way I described Jey. Everything about him made every single one of my senses light on fire when I was near him. He was so gentle and kind with me and so incredibly patient. I was so sure of what I liked. My entire life Ive only been with women. I expected myself to end up with a women, until i met him, Jey. I was too stubborn to admit it to myself, and even though he knew it I wouldn't admit it to him either, just how badly I wanted him.

He knew me so incredibly well. Like he knew me before I did and it drove me insane. He checked up on me and gave me little gifts. Not a day has gone by when he has not said good-morning or goodnight to me. That man makes sure the oil in my car is always changed, and rotates my tires for me. Hell he puts gas in my car.

He sees me. He cares about me

In the five minutes i’ve been in the room he has yet to take his eye off me, caressing every inch of my body with his eyes. Undressing me. He came and sat next to me on the couch, eyes never leaving mine. “I’m fr Maya I’m tired of playing games, I need you.” His eyes locked on mine. My breathe caught in my throat, but I couldn’t look away. He brushed his finger tips on my upper thigh in a swift motion.

Anndd there went my resolve.

I suddenly stood, walking over to the table to the right of us leaning my back against it. I was trying to steady my breathing,but he was on my heels. “Look at me pretty girl.” He whispered, my eyes lazily raised meeting his penetrating gaze. His hands rested lightly on my waist.

In that moment looking up at him I knew. He was the only person Ive ever wanted so badly. My eyes flickered to his lips, and of course he noticed because he dipped his head to meet my gaze, grinning. Those brown eyes, always knowing.

Tears stung in my eyes. I didn’t know if I was more upset at the fact that I was about to cry or that he can see right through me. I can’t hide anything. Even though we’ve never once had a conversation about our feeling our future, the lingering glances, and soft touches, told us more than we needed to know about each other.

“Jey I-“

Before I could finish he kissed me. Slow, soft yet full of passion and possessiveness. His hands tightening against my waist, pulling me flush to his body. When I first realized, I froze into the kiss. He’s kissing me. For just a second that’s how we stayed, lip locked and unmoving. 

Everything I ever thought about myself was flushed down the drain when I met Jey. How do you explain that to people. “Oh yea Ive was a lesbian my whole life, and then one day I wasn’t….who knew.” On one hand I didn’t care what people thought about me, if you fall in love with someone you can’t help who it is. And then on the other hand I was embarrassed.

Embarrassed about the feelings, embarrassed about the way everyone around us knew, and most of all embarrassed at myself for falling for a man. What thee fuck. But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was him, and his lips on mine. He kissed me like I would disappear at any second. He kissed me like he’d waited a hundred lifetimes for me. 

Without another thought my hands trailed up his chest and hooked around his neck. He smiled into the kiss, pulling me closer if that was even possible. Our lips moved in synch, his hands roamed my backside, eventually he lifted me and sat me on the table, pulling me right to the edge, with me thighs on either side of him. He pulled back for a second, staring at me. Asking for my permission. I gave it to him without hesitation, wanting nothing more than him, fuck all the other thoughts I previously had. 

Fuck every thought ever, actually.

His lips found my neck leaving tiny kisses up and down the right side. He flicked his tongoue over the sensitive spots he just kissed, leaving a trail across my collar bone, to the other side. Repeating the same motions.

At this point I was completely breathless, squirming under his touch. His hands never left my ass just resting there as he kissed me. Devoured me. “Hold still mama, lemme taste you please.” His voice was low and laced in lust, his words caused my legs to squeeze against him. His big hands slid from my ass to my upper thigh, pushing up the tight dress I had on up even further. His lips found mine again as his hands hooked around my underwear. 

He gently pulled them off with one hand, slightly lifting me with the other. After he tossed them he faced me again pulling me by my thighs even closer to him. I leaned back for him, eagerly. His breathes came out short and shallow as he had a full view of me.

“You are so beautiful .” He whispered just low enough for me to hear, right against my thigh, replacing his words with wet open mouthed kisses. My hips bucked up slightly, wanting attention. He gave into what I wanted, attaching his mouth to me. I gasped, back arching. His hands held my thighs in place as his tongue found my folds. 

His tongue flicked over my sensitive bud, moving in slow circular motions. He watched me hungrily from where he was. My hands gripped his forearms, a moaning mess. 

Jey slid his hands from my thighs, up to my waist, continuing his slow circular motions. He was devouring my shit as if it was the last meal on earth. He came up for a second and leaned into my ear. "Baby, you gotta stay quiet, you gon have folks banging on my door." He finished the sentence with another wet sloppy kiss at the base of my ear. He shifted to hover right above my body, eyeing me like an animal.

"Look at me", he said, one of his hands rested on my inner thigh, the other he used to lift my chin to kiss him. Our lips connected in a wet kiss that tasted of my essence. He kissed me slowly, his lips parting slightly after each kiss, almost as if he was holding himself back.

His fingers found my soaked clit, working in the same motions his tongue was. "Jeyy", his name came out in breathless gasps. " Yes mama." His lips were so soft, not leaving an area untouched. "I need you, I need you so bad." I breathed out against him.

Something in him must've snapped when I said that. He picked me up and over his shoulder in a swift motion. He laid me on the couch spreading me open, like a treasure chest. He unbuckled the zipper on his jeans, only now did I realize the bulge that had accumulated over the past few minutes. " Fuccck girl, you driving me crazy."

His eyes were wild, lips wet. His hair now in a messy array of curls. 

He pulled his pants and boxers down revealing the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. He was thick and veiny, tip shining in his own essence, just for me. He stood at attention for me too, so pretty. I didn't even wait for him to tell me what to do. I sat up dropping onto the floor and crawling onto my hands and knees right in front of him. 

"You liked women all this time yet you ready to suck my dick, look at yo fine ass." He was leaned back onto the couch now, his lower half completely exposed. That comment damn near made me stand up, glaring at him from the same position, his head cocked back in a obnoxious laugh. "Yo ass can front all you want, my love, but it’s just me and you.” He grinned, eyeing you from where he sat.

I pushed myself onto him, hands at the base of his dick. My tongue swirled around him, his yes fluttered shut immediately reveling in the pleasure. Since he just laughed in my face like that I needed him to come undone for me. He was wrapped around my finger, but I was about to wrap these lips around him in a way he'd never forget. Both sets.

I continued swirling my tongue around his tip, keeping one had at the base, he was slightly trembling under me. All those smart ass comments now gone, replaced with breathless gasps. "Fuck girl, that shit feels so good." He twitched in my mouth as I continued swirling his tip. My hands slid onto his thighs, I attempted to take him all in, but as soon as his tip grazed the back of my throat I gagged so loud, he popped his eyes open to the sound. His lust filled eyes found my tear streaked face, cocking his head back he let out another loud laugh. " You aint ready for that yet baby, come here." 

My cheeks flushed, "shut up, I tried", he chuckled as he pulled me into his lap. "Yes you did, thank you my sweet girl." Butterflies. Those pet names he gave me sent chills down my spine. He was eyeing me now, amusement flickered behind those brown orbs. "You ready for me?" His voice was soft and breathy. He waited for me all this time, without pushing me or overstepping. And now he had me all to himself.

"Just go slow please, Josh." My voice was hushed. I wanted him, but it didn't take away from my heartbeat hammering in my chest. His eyes softened, grin fading at the use of his real name. " I gotchu mama, Im not got hurt you." He tapped his member on your backside as he slid his thumb across your bottom lip. He lifted me slightly to angle himself at my entrance, pressing lightly. My breathe caught in my throat as I felt the stretch, his thumb never moving from my face, caressing me. He slid in deeper, stretching me more, the pain was unbearable for a second "Stop, Josh" I breathed out pushing him back a little, he halted his movements immediately. "Your doing so baby, look at me." 

My eyes shifted to his, fresh tears threatening to fall. He held his hand in place on my face, but he didn't budge, he waited for my permission. He wasn't even halfway in and I was already asking him to stop, but he didn't care. He sat still and unmoving like he had all the time in the world. Waiting for my permission.

After a few moments I gave it to him again and he continued to slide into me with ease. He groaned as he got deeper and deeper. Filling me up. The pain was intense. It didn't feel good, but it also felt amazing in the weirdest way. One last soft thrust of his hips and he was all the way inside me. His tip was kissing my spot deliciously.

"Good god." Was all he could breathe out. His hands sliding from my face to my ass and mine around his neck, we pulled each other in impossibly close. He guided me up slowly and back down at the same pace. My nails were digging into his tribal ink, but he didn't seem to care. My face next to his as he continued the slow pace. He was filling me up in a way I’ve never felt before. I’ve never felt pleasure or pain like this. It was addicting.

My walls stretched and pulsed around him with each small thrust. "This all I wanted right here" his voice was low against my cheek. Who knew Id give into him on a random Monday night. Taking him completely raw. His hands gripped my backside guiding me painfully slow. He wasn't in no rush, he watched me with close intensity in between stolen kisses. Our hearts racing against each other. 

His pace quickened, he lifted me higher coming down further, making a soft smacking noise. I wrapped around him perfectly as if we were made for each other. His hands held me steady in place as his pace quickened. I was leaning into his chest, hands tangled in his soft curls. At this point I was all but screaming in his ear.

Any pain I felt was replaced, by pleasure. He fucked me slow intentional looking me in my eyes with each stroke. I couldn't look away It was like he had me in a trance. He was fucking me hard now, and fast, pace was relentless. He nipped at my ear whispering the dirtiest nothings. "Take that shit baby, let me hear that pretty voice of yours."

" Josh- I- fucckk."

He smiled into the crook of my neck, nipping the skin there too. " Say my name again." Before I could get any words out he slapped my ass so hard it made me jolt. " Say it."

"Joshu- oh my god." I couldn't finish he was fucking the shit outta me now. The room was filled with the loud slaps of your things and my screaming. He no longer cared if someone came knocking. They would just have to mind they damn business. My slick walls were tightning against him , causing him to grunt.

He lifted me up, placing me back down on the couch on my back. He continued his unforgiving pace, snapping his hips forward. He pinned my legs to the couch with one arm, the other resting on my chest. His eyes never once left mine. I couldn't tear mine away either, watching him destroy me like this was pure cinema. The way his caramel skin glistened with sweat as he fucked me on this couch. The way his grills shined when he bit his lip, was making me feral.

My hands clawed at his arms looking for some stability. Until he shifted, pressing his hands into my lower abdomen. I thrashed underneath him, a wicked smile forming on his face.

"Joshua fuck me right there oh my god." My eyes were now clenched shut, as my world was being rocked. " You just don't know how fucking good you look right now, fuck." His pace causing him to grunt after each word. I was unraveling underneath him and he felt it. My insides were burning with a sensation I can't describe, all I knew is I didn't want him to stop. "Right there baby right there fuck me right there." My words came out breathless as he continued to fuck me. "Im cumming baby- fuck- take me pretty girl- fuckkkk." Joshua was a mess, his hair clung to his forehead, his pace was sloppy. his hands wrapped around my things holding them up as he slammed into my pussy. 

His breath was jagged breathing hard and loud. He sounded so fucking good. "Ian never lettin yo ass go, this my pussy." His voice cracked as he released inside me. I wasn't far behind him, but he hadn't even faltered his pace. He fucked us through our orgasm, his tip hitting the perfect spot. My vision went blurry from tears. I was clawing at his back, screaming. "JOSHUA."

--

I laid there for a second, trying to pull myself together. "You ok pretty girl?" The man who had collapsed next to me whispered ever so softly in my ear.

"Mhmm." Was all I could get out, a stupid smiled plastered on my face. Josh grinned too, pulling me on top of him. "I love you Joshu-"

"YES GAWD I KNEW IT." He cut me off before I finished the 'ah' at the end of his name. I lazily smacked his chest "Shut up before I take it back." He smacked my ass sending another jolt of pleasure through my body, causing me to whimper against him. " I love yo ass too girl."

He finished with the sweetest kiss to my lips.

[throwawaybog]

Oooo do you have any WIPs for Wild Kratts?

hi!! yes ABSOLUTELY i do!!! wild kratts is just that one show that i will remember exists and then hyperfixate on for like, 7 months out of a year. and this happens repeatedly btw. and then my google docs count only increases exponentially and i never get anything done. but oh my GOD would i love to actually achieve finishing something for once.

but back to the wips! ill put them under the cut lol

so one that i think about A LOT, is this silly lil crane wife zach concept that has me laughing every time i remember it exists, thank you @novazentryx for bouncing it back and forth with me it still makes me giggle

OC introductory oneshot

eli is also responsible for this nebulously connected to the WK-verse oneshot ive been struggling with, and he doesnt even know it. basically, he suggested making an oc to play around with, and ive slowly been coming up with one. (she is still Unnamed lol) but she is a bit of a gag character, and not really involved with the Tortuga crew. I just really love an outsider pov, it amuses me, and i think someone tangentially involved makes for a lot of humorous moments. (think the "my cabbages!" guy from A:TLA) but basically she is a former NASCAR racer who got injured, badly, her very first season, and suffered permanent hearing loss in one ear, and partial in the other. she is now a getaway driver, and she is cringe. she's cocky and a schemer, but she's also an absolute fool. it took her a while to get behind the wheel again, and she still struggles. and somehow she chose working as a getaway driver for various WK villains as an optimal career path. everytime she leaves her car unattended, she comes back to it totaled. like Kevin from Ben 10 lmaoo

the Pre A:TLA au

it's canon-compliant and ends tragically ofc bc there was no other way it was going to end.

Like- there are a 100 years of war going on all this time before aang showed up, so I wanna set that BEFORE the avatar was discovered you know? I want to give them their own plot some time in these 100 years. We're like 50 years into the war so aang won't be a thing. Well. he was a thing. But no one knows where he is lol. But that was like it as far as I thought mostly cause mostly it was just the vibes that were coming to mind yk? Smth smth being a kid and growing up believing war is normal and growing up a little more and relaxing it’s not- wanting to FIX things but. God, you’re a kid and your friends are kids and you’re making a difference but you’re up against a whole nation

You can’t save everybody

And like. Idk it’s just the tragedy of having your whole life shaped by this terrible thing. And it really could be your whole life bc you’re not safe! You’re at war! And you’ve decided to go out and fight for the right side, the losing side, and you’ll probably die young anyways

And if not. God it’s gonna be another 50 years till aang is found in the ice berg. But they don’t know that, all they know is the avatar is gone. And hope and optimism slowly takes a backseat bc he’s not here, you gotta save yourselves

aviva and zach will parallel some sort of elementary + middle school friends type of thing where in HS they go to separate schools. both zach and aviva are in fire nation but aviva is from a colony and zach is an actual fire nation kid. both are non benders, or possibly zach is a weak firebender, who uses his flames for like, the forge or smth idk. Maybe he cant bend at all. Its still something I'm figuring out. the two meet as they always do, first rivals then weird friends.

when they're both around 16/17-ish aviva meets some other earth nation ppl and they fill her in on what's going on outside. she decides to leave. Zach obviously calls her a fucking idiot cuz wtf aviva you're gonna die out there. and aviva is like nah man trust me they said they have leads on the Avatar so if we bring him back then it might actually end the war. zach is obviously hella sus about this but he can't convince avuva out of it so he resigns and tells aviva to be careful. The next time they meet it likely wont be as friends

there's more to the au ofc, but i was thinking of maybe doing a series of connected oneshots set in this verse for them and to explore the other characters as well.

the labyrinth au

every fandom i am in will at some point have an labyrinth au lol.

but. zach’s dad as the goblin king, zach as a half mortal half fae? like i know the goblin king himself was a fae that rules over the goblins so, i’m thinking he’s part of the unseelie court? of more malicious fae. so, that, for zach’s dad, and his mother is either a nature spirit, or a fae in another court. and zach is making multiple attempts at getting OUT of his dads labyrinth.

(think Zagreus from Hades game)

and meanwhile. meanwhile CHRIS is in the labyrinth trying to get to MARTIN who is, idk, for some reason in the center of the labyrinth? so i know the brothers would never wish each other away and that’s for kids anyways. but. i’m thinking. smth is up, a festival of sorts for the spn creatures villain seminars or smth.

and so its either martin who there? for some reason? and chris is trying to get to him, OR its a Wild Kratt Kid, im undecided

Chris is trying to rescue whoever it is, with aviva as a guide bc aviva HAS braved the labrynth before when she was a child

(she was trying to save zach. who she met at science camp. idk i’m still figuring out how the modern aspect is incorporated here? i’m thinking it’s mostly compliant? like the supernatural exist and are known to some but a lot of them are like, hidden in plain sight? not everyone knows)

aviva thought zach was wished away to the labrynth and under threat of being turned to a goblin she wasn’t aware that, yk, the labrynth is his HOME (prison, whatever you wanna call it)

so it’s like—zach trying to get out and his attempts bring him to aviva and chris who are trying to get IN. as a kid and throughout his teen years, zach WAS able to go to the mortal world, hence the science camp, neighbors-ish with the kratts, etc

i’m thinking that, the varmitechs do have a business in the mortal realm too, which is why he lives there, but they also have business in the fae realm? so like, ima have to work that out later

still, i plan on writing this as a one shot, (though its gotten rather long ill be honest) with it going back and forth between zach's many failed runs, (the past) and his current run (which is where he bumps into chris and aviva)

----x-----

there is also another supernatural creature type au, where zach's father is a vampire and zach thinks he is one too (albeit one allergic to blood) but actually, zach is a nature spirit like his mother, and he doesnt even know it. ohhh the delicious irony of it all. unfortunately i cant find the doc with my notes lol so i didn't get to include that but maybe one day i'll find it!

but thank you so much for the ask! it was fun, and i love talking about WK, so i really enjoyed this!

[birdie-in-arcadia]

In Our Wake

Chapter 12 is here, and this one is long and emotional, so as always, read at your own discretion, loves. Enjoy <3

CHAPTER TWELVE — RETURN  (Vessel’s POV) 

It’s strange how quickly time stretches when you’re trying not to feel anything. The flat has been… silent. Clean. Predictable. Exactly what I thought I needed. But now that I’m back, I realize I’ve missed the noise more than I ever expected. The clatter of equipment cases. The soft strum of IV warming up before soundcheck. The barely veiled sarcasm in III’s voice when he’s pretending everything’s fine. And her. Especially her. 

I don’t see her straightaway. We’re back at a venue in Glasgow, somewhere between beautiful and broken. Cracked tiles in the green room, velvet couches that have seen too much. Home in a strange way. I unpack in silence, letting the weight of the room settle back around me. Then I see her. She’s sitting in a folding chair near the stage door, knees tucked to her chest, notebook open but the pen motionless in her hand. Her face is turned slightly toward the window, catching what little grey light leaks in from the alley beyond. She doesn’t see me yet. She looks smaller. Thinner, maybe. Tired in a way I can’t place; not just physically, but spiritually. I cross the room slowly. No need to announce myself. She looks up just before I reach her. 

And there it is, the flicker in her eyes. Not surprise. Not quite relief. Something quieter. Something like grief and hope tangled up together. “Hi,” she says, soft. “Hi,” I reply. She looks at me like she’s trying to read a book she used to know by heart but can’t quite remember the ending of. I want to ask how she’s been, but I already know. I want to ask if she missed me, but I don’t want to hear it if the answer is yes. Because if she did, I’ll never be able to leave again. 

She closes the notebook slowly. “Didn’t think you’d come back,” she says. “I wasn’t gone forever.” “No,” she says, looking down at her lap. “Just long enough.” I sit beside her, but not too close. She doesn’t flinch. That feels like something. 

We sit there for a while. Saying nothing. Breathing in each other’s presence like a song we’re both afraid to sing out loud. I finally say, “You seem… different.” She smiles faintly. “So do you.” A pause. “Are you okay?” I ask. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “I don’t know,” she says, and it’s the most honest thing I’ve heard in weeks. 

Before we’re called to soundcheck, she glances at me. “You really didn’t want to be near me, did you?” I look at her. “It wasn’t that,” I say gently. “I just... needed space from the turmoil. I needed to write, but I couldn’t focus at the house...” I lie. Her breath catches. “So, you abandoned me at my lowest point to write fucking songs? Knowing that you were the only thing I had to keep me sane?” she asks, fury leaking out through her gritted teeth.  

My heart falls out of my chest and straight through the floor. I want to tell her everything. I want so, so badly to explain myself and lay everything out on the table, but I can’t. I can’t complicate things for her any more than they already are. If she needs to hate me for this, then that’s okay. Maybe that’ll be better in the long run. 

I stay silent for a moment before I apologize to her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, love, I promise I didn’t.” But before she can respond, someone calls my name from down the corridor. She nods once, almost to herself, and gathers her notebook, standing slowly. “Guess we should get back to it.” she says in an attempt to be dismissive as if the conversation didn’t hurt her. I understand why. She’s got her walls up again, and it’s my fault. I nod. But long after she walks away, I remain seated. Because I know this now: distance didn’t protect either of us. It only made the inevitable louder. 

__________  (My POV) 

Vessel's back, just like that. No warning. No explanation. He’s here again, like the silence he left behind didn’t cut clean through me. Like being abandoned by my only friend didn’t push me off the edge and into a deep, dark headspace. I tell myself not to feel anything about it. But of course, I do. 

When I first saw him, standing there in the shadow of the stage door, hoodie sleeves pushed up, eyes unreadable, I almost said his name out loud. Almost. Instead, I said hi like we were strangers who remember too much. And when he answered, it felt like someone had lit a candle in the middle of a cold room.  

I should’ve said more. I should’ve said where the hell did you go? I should’ve said I missed you every night you weren’t there. But I didn’t. Because part of me still believes I don’t have the right to be angry at someone who never promised me anything. 

__________ 

Later, after soundcheck, I find myself alone in the corridor, leaning against the wall. That’s when III finds me. His steps are quiet today. Careful. “Hey,” he says, soft. I look at him. He looks… haunted. Tired in a way I recognize in myself. Eyes rimmed with a kind of sorrow I’ve seen before, but never aimed inward like this. “I meant what I said the other night,” he continues. “About being sorry.” 

I nod, but my chest is a coil of something I can’t name. He steps a little closer. “I don’t know how to undo what I’ve done,” he says. “But I want to be better. For you. For us.” And I want to believe him. God, I want to. Because there’s a part of me that still remembers who he was before all this. There’s a part of me that I think still loves him and wishes to see him succeed. The fire. The thrill. The way he made me feel like the center of gravity. But I also remember the yelling. The nights he made me question whether I was the problem. The words he threw like knives. The silence that followed when he realized he’d cut me too deep. “I need time,” I tell him, my tone flat, but defeated. His jaw tenses. Just a flicker. “Time for what?” “To figure out if I’m still in love with you,” I say. “Or just in love with the memory of who you used to be.” He doesn’t answer. Just nods once, sharp and unreadable. 

Then he walks away, hands in his pockets, shoulders tight like he’s trying not to collapse in on himself. When I’m alone again, I exhale like I haven’t been breathing for days. And the worst part? I’m still not sure who I’m angry at more; him, for hurting me, or Vessel, for leaving when I was breaking. I sob silently, my shoulders trembling as the dams behind my eyes break. 

__________ 

That night, I find Vessel in the green room. He’s tuning his guitar, head down, completely absorbed. I stand there a moment, just taking him in. He doesn’t look up, but h doesn’t need to. Somehow, he knows it’s me. “I didn’t mean to disappear,” he says, quiet. I sit beside him, arms crossed. “You did, though.” I murmur. “I know.” he replies solemnly. “You left me alone with all of it. With him.” He nods. “I thought it was the right thing to do.” “Why?” “Because being near you was starting to hurt.” I look at him then, really look. And he looks wrecked in the way only someone who kept everything inside too long can be. And suddenly I don’t want to argue. I just want to understand. 

__________ (My POV) 

I don’t sleep, not really. I doze, more like. I watch headlights bleed across the ceiling of the hotel room like ghosts trying to get in. Sometimes I hear Vessel’s voice in the back of my mind. Quiet. Careful. “Being near you was starting to hurt.” 

It keeps echoing. Not because I didn’t know it. But because I didn’t want to admit I felt it too. I could tell that I was just dragging him down right along with me. I really shouldn’t even be upset that he left. He did what was best for him, and I can’t fault him for that. He did what I still don’t know if I have the strength to do. 

The band’s call time is mid-morning, but I’m up early. Wandering. Coffee in one hand, jumper sleeves tugged past my knuckles. No one stops me as I make my way through the quiet hallways. 

I find myself in the venue's small backstage lounge, still empty, lit by cold grey morning light. I sit cross-legged on the couch, mug balanced between my palms, and let the quiet press in. It feels like the only thing that makes sense anymore. 

I think I’m grieving. Not a death, but something close. Grieving the version of myself that believed love could fix things. Grieving the boy I fell for, who lit up a room and made me feel like the only thing he wanted to hold onto. Grieving the space between me and Vessel, safe and sacred. But it doesn’t feel like something I’m allowed to want, either. Not after being accused of sleeping with him multiple times, or after dragging him right down into my personal life bullshit. I feel guilty that it’s affected him on this large of a scale. I never meant for it to happen. I just needed someone. 

I tried so hard to keep everyone together. To smooth over cracks with innocent affection. But now I feel hollow. And no one notices how quiet I've become, because I was always the quiet one beside the chaos.

When I close my eyes, I remember the first time III kissed me. The thrill. The fall. The fire. Now, when I picture him, I see the look in his eyes when he told me I was just like the others. And when I picture Vessel… I see hands that never reached for me without asking. I see a room made safe just by his presence. But he left, and I don’t know what that makes him anymore. 

The door creaks open behind me, slow. I don’t turn around. I know that footstep. Vessel says nothing at first. Then: “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” “I could say the same.” He hesitates. “Are you alright?” “I don’t know,” I whisper. And there it is again; honesty, raw and painful. He doesn’t sit next to me, he just stands near the door, unsure. Instead, I say: “I feel like I’m mourning someone who’s still alive.” He finally steps forward. “That’s the hardest kind of grief,” he says. “The kind that still breathes.”

We stay like that for a long time. Quiet, still, not healed, but not alone either. 

__________  (Vessel’s POV) 

I’ve never felt this useless before. Not on tour. Not in music. Not even in grief. Because with music, I can give something back. I can channel pain; alchemize it into something people find meaning in. But with her… I can’t make a sound that will make any of this right. She said she feels like she’s mourning someone who’s still alive, and I know exactly who she meant. And I hate that I couldn’t stop it. I hate that I left her behind in that room, in that house, in that wreckage. I told myself I was protecting her. Protecting the band. Protecting myself. But mostly, I was afraid. Afraid of what I’d say if I stayed. Afraid of touching something I couldn’t ever take back. Afraid of ruining my brotherhood within the band. Because I don’t just love her, I ache for her. And I think part of me has since the day I saw her in that lounge. 

When she spoke today, sitting cross-legged in that empty lounge, voice cracked and far away, I didn’t know how to breathe properly. She looked like a flame that had run out of air. Not extinguished, just… flickering. Smoldering. I wanted to reach for her, but something stopped me. The same thing that’s always stopped me. Respect. Restraint. Fear. If I reach for her now, it won’t be out of comfort. It’ll be because of want. And that kind of want has teeth. 

She’s still with him. Technically. But even he must see it; the way she’s slipping further away each time he tries to hold her tighter. He never learned that love isn’t about possession. It’s about presence. And presence, real presence, doesn’t leave bruises behind, literal or metaphorical. 

I pick up my notebook and write a few bars. Chords that feel like autumn; soft endings and the promise of something colder underneath. I write until the ache in my fingers distracts me from the ache in my chest. It doesn’t help, but it’s something. 

Maybe IV was right all along. Maybe I should’ve said something sooner. But if I had, she might never have trusted me the way she does now. And maybe, just maybe, the only reason she’s still standing, however unsteady, is because I didn’t say the thing I’ve been dying to say. 

I love you. I love you enough to wait. Even if you never choose me. Even if you never know what that wait has cost me. I. Love. You. 

__________ (III’s POV) 

I think I’m losing her. And worse than that, I think she’s already checked out. 

She’s still here. Still walking these halls. Still sitting on the far side of green rooms with either a cup of tea or coffee between her hands like it’s the only thing holding her together. But her eyes don’t find me anymore. And when they do, they’re empty, lifeless, and they don’t stay. We used to be gravity. We used to be the only creatures on the planet who could love each other this much, more than anyone has ever loved anyone. Now she floats around me like something untethered. Completely disconnected. Like a ghost who hasn’t realized they’re dead yet. 

And I fucking hate how much I miss the version of her that looked at me like I was everything. Like the world would stop turning if she wasn’t by my side. But what I hate more is the version of me who burned that out of her. I saw her talking to Vessel again. She talks to him more than anybody else lately, even me. Especially me. Didn’t have to hear what was said. The way her shoulders softened. The way she looked up when he walked in, like she was remembering how to be a person again.  

And him. Always still. Always present. Like he’s been standing in the same place all along just waiting for her to notice he never moved. I believe she’s already forgiven him for disappearing. I just wish it were that easy for her to forgive me. But I didn’t abandon her. What I’ve done is much worse. I’ve made her abandon herself. 

Part of me wants to hit him. Not because he’s done anything wrong. Because he hasn’t done anything wrong. And maybe that’s the part that kills me most. Seems like everyone around me is just so fucking perfect. Why did she choose me over them? Her judgement is shite, I’ll tell you that. The prospect that I’m probably one of the worst decisions she’s made in her life seeps over me slowly, maddeningly. It raises chill bumps so strongly on my flesh that it’s painful and it settles in my stomach like fucking granite. 

These blokes are my brothers. We’ve been through it all and stayed close. Tours, being fucking doxed, stress, exhaustion, women, men, depression, failure, longing. Everything. Yet somehow, I don’t resent them for taking her side. It definitely raises red flags for that little voice in the back of my fucking skull. But the question is, it is some unlikely coincidence that all three of my brothers want to fuck her, or am I just the intolerable asshole? I think I finally have my answer. If only I could keep myself reminded of that when I’m pissed. My brain falls out of my ass when I’m angry and I say and do whatever it takes to hurt, and I don’t know if I’ll ever figure out why that is. But I do know that I can’t keep hurting people dear to me while I try to figure it out. 

IV won’t look at me properly lately. He talks like I’m something fragile he’s not allowed to set down too fast. Vessel tries to talk to me and hang in my room to play games with me, but it’s tense, and I can tell there’s a hundred things he’d like to say, but he won’t. II acts like he doesn’t even hear me half the time, and he’s got this kind of scowl that settles on his face whenever I enter the room. And I know what that means. It means they’re preparing for the fallout. It means they think she’s what needs protecting now. And they’re probably right.   

Last night, I walked past her door. I didn’t knock, didn’t say anything. Just stood there with my fist clenched at my side like I could punch my guilt into submission. I thought about everything I could say. I’m sorry. I’m scared. I love you. Do you regret me? I don’t know how to love someone who won’t run from the worst parts of me. 

But I didn’t say any of it. Because I know it’s too late for words. And too early for the consequences. When she finally walks away for good, I know I won’t try to stop her. Not because I don’t want to. Because I won’t know how. Because I know it’ll be the best thing for her. And I fucking hate that that’s true. 

__________ (IV’s POV) 

Some people think silence is absence. But silence can be everything. The unsaid. The unfinished. The unbearable. It fills rooms when people forget how to listen. And lately, it follows her like a second skin. She’s unraveling. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just... fading. She speaks less. Smiles less. Leaves cups half-finished, and thoughts even more so. I pass her in hallways and her eyes flicker like she’s somewhere else entirely. She haunts the halls in clothing that no longer fits her frame with the cuffs of the sleeves clenched in her fists at her side. She’s paler, smaller, and I swear her hair looks thinner. Like she’s wasting away right in front of our eyes, and we’re just... letting it happen. She’s not broken. Not yet. She’s exhausted. And I don’t think any of them see that the way I do. My anger at the situation flares as my fists clench at my sides and nearly collide with the navy-painted drywall next to me. 

III’s unraveling too. In his own way. You can see it in the way he stands; shoulders hunched, always braced for impact. Like he’s already expecting to lose everything and trying to decide whether he deserves it. I don’t think he knows how to stop the cycle he’s created.  He only knows how to brace for the wreckage. 

And Vessel? He’s a shadow of what he used to be. There’s grief in his stillness now. A kind of waiting. A kind of knowing. He looks at her like he’s reading a prayer he’ll never say out loud. And she looks at him like she’s afraid to believe there’s still something safe in this house. He tries to offer her some sort of solace and relief, but I don’t think even that is enough anymore. None of us know how to help her. Well, we do, but it’s not exactly something you can force. 

They all orbit each other now, in loops so tight I’m not sure how we’ve avoided collision this long. But it’s coming. You can feel it in the walls. In the tension before soundcheck. In the way we all avoid being the first to speak when we enter a room. We’re all just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

She’s going to leave soon. Not forever, maybe. But far enough that we’ll all have to learn how to speak in past tense. I don’t know if it’ll be a silent break or an explosive one, but at this point it is inevitable. And I believe we’re all terrified of the possibilities and the carnage. As for me, I’ll be here. As I’ve always been. Holding steady ground. Watching. Waiting. Saying nothing. Until I have to. 

__________  (My POV) 

I don’t go back to III’s room that night. Or the night after. At first, I sleep in the spare room or on couches at venues. I stay in corners of the green room with headphones on, pretending the world is quieter than it is. Then Vessel offers his floor. No questions. Just a folded blanket and a soft, “You’re safe here if you need it.” And I do. More than I want to admit. 

He never crosses the space between us. Not even in sleep. He stays on his side, and I stay on mine. But sometimes, on the hardest nights, I hear the soft scrape of his guitar or the slow scratch of his pen in the dark. Those sounds settle me in a way III’s arms never could. Not anymore. Just knowing that he’s there. That I’m okay in this space. It’s a massive comfort. 

III barely speaks to me now. He doesn’t ask where I go at night. Doesn’t follow. But I see it in the way he watches me from across the room. The twitch of his jaw. The way his fingers curl into fists when he sees me next to Vessel, even if we’re only sitting in silence. He knows. Or at least, he suspects. And that’s worse somehow, because there’s nothing happening. But the air between me and Vessel is so thick with almost that I don’t even know how to name it anymore. He’s a shelter in the storm. His kindness and understanding are always unwavering. Unconditional. He never asks for anything in return, and I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why he does it. Part of me keeps waiting to find the end of his patience, because I know he won’t tolerate me and all my bullshit forever. No one can give forever. He’s already left once, so I know he’ll do it again. And I dread that day with every fiber and filament of my bones.  

One evening after soundcheck, I fall asleep on Vessel’s hotel bed while he works quietly on a song across the room. When I wake up, there’s a mug of peppermint tea on the nightstand and a blanket over my shoulders. No note. No gesture made of it. Just care, offered without condition. And for a moment, it hurts more than anything III ever said. Because it reminds me what love is supposed to feel like, even if it’s platonic. 

The next day, III finally speaks. Not with words. With silence that’s sharper than glass. He doesn’t greet me. Doesn’t look at me when we pass each other in the hallway. And later, when I laugh for the first time in days at something II says during load-in, I catch him watching me from the back of the room. Eyes like cold fire. Mouth set. Hands clenched at his sides. That night, when the lights go down after the set, I know it’s coming. The waves are rapidly receding, and what comes after will be catastrophic.  

I try to avoid him after the show. I duck backstage, stick close to Vessel and IV, act busy. But he finds me in the corridor near the stairwell, just outside Vessel’s room. “Where’ve you been?” he asks, voice low. “Getting air.” I reply, trying to keep my tone even. “With him?” he demands quietly. I fold my arms, my eyes rolling ever-so-slightly. “Don’t do this. "I say, pleading. He takes a step closer. “Then tell me what’s going on.” “Nothing,” I snap. “Because I’m not allowed to feel anything, remember? I’m just supposed to sit there and absorb the heat while you burn through everything else.” “You’re staying in his room.” he seethes. “Because I feel safe there.” He recoils. Just a little. I wish I could take the words back. But I don’t. Because they’re true. 

His voice drops. Quieter. More dangerous. “I knew it.” he scoffs. “There’s nothing going on between us, III You don’t get to virtually ignore me for two weeks, then pop up and accuse me of sleeping with your friend, my friend! Have you ever considered that maybe, just fucking maybe, he’s my goddamn friend too?!” I say lowly my voice raising in tone, the exasperation in my tone evident. “But you want there to be something there, don’t you.” he retorts, blatantly ignoring my outrage. And the worst part is… I don’t know how to answer. Because there’s a version of myself, somewhere, maybe not far, who might. I truthfully do not know. I’ve been so completely consumed by this shit with III that I can’t see anything or anyone else; not even myself. I’m just trying to fucking survive. 

“I needed you,” I say, voice cracking. “And you made me feel like I was the enemy.” He shakes his head. “You chose to walk away from me.” he says. “No. I escaped.” I sneer. That’s when he slams his hand against the wall. Not near me. Not touching me. But close enough that the shock of it trembles through my spine. I don’t flinch. But I want to. His chest heaves. His eyes burn. And for a split second, I think he might say something venomous. 

But all he manages is: “Don’t go back to his room tonight.” I meet his gaze. Steady. Hollow. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

__________ (My POV) 

I wake to the sound of fists on wood. Not a knock. A threat. The kind of pounding that rattles the walls, vibrates through the floor, and hits your chest before your ears can catch up. It’s jarring. Violent. Familiar in a way that makes my blood run cold. Then I hear the voice. Slurred. Loud. His. 

“Open the fucking door!” III screams. My body goes rigid. Breath catches hard in my throat as I sit up too fast, the sheets twisted around my legs like a trap. Another crash sounds as he throws himself against the door, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. “I know she’s in there, you bastard! Come on, open up!” he slurs. 

Beside me, Vessel shoots upright, wide awake in an instant. His hair’s a mess. His torso is exposed, but he’s still cladded in the sweats he laid down in. But his eyes are clear. Alert. He turns to me. “Stay here.” “No, don’t,” I whisper, reaching for his arm. “He’s drunk. He’ll hurt you.” I plead. “I’m not letting him scare you.” Vessel says, a hint of protectiveness in his tone. Another crash. 

“Don’t make me break this fucking door down!” III is relentless. My heart stutters violently. A cold sweat breaks across the back of my neck. I want to disappear. Vessel stands, pulling his hoodie on over his head in one sharp motion. He moves to the door slowly, deliberately. Calm. Controlled. But I see the tension in his back. I see the way his jaw clenches. I hear it in his breath. 

The second the deadbolt turns, the door swings open hard, bouncing off the doorstop on the opposite wall. III stumbles into the room without waiting. His shirt is half-buttoned, hair soaked from sweat or rain or both, and he reeks; cheap whiskey, sweat, rage. “You fucking snake,” he snarls at Vessel. “You thieving, gutless little leech-” Vessel doesn’t move. “She’s mine. You hear me? She’s not yours to sneak into at night like a fucking vulture.” 

His eyes land on me, curled in the bed, frozen. “And you, you lying little slag-” III spits.  “Enough,” Vessel says, voice low, but shaking now. “You’ve been shagging him this whole time, haven’t you? Behind my back-” III continues, ignoring Vessel’s warning. “Shut up!” I scream, voice cracking with something between rage and terror. “You don’t get to speak to me like that anymore!” He laughs. Not joyfully. Ugly. Bitter. Cruel. “No? You move on that fast? What, you get bored of me, decide to shack up with the mute martyr instead?” Vessel’s fists clench at his sides as he yells through gritted teeth, “Goddamn it III, stop! I never touched her!” III completely ignores him, continuing to step toward me as I stand from the bed, hands clasped in front of my chest; a form of protecting myself from III’s barrage of insults and accusations. “You think this wanker’s gonna love you better? He’s not even a man. He’s a ghost in a fucking hoodie,” Vessel moves. Not toward him. He just stands straighter. Solid. Breathing heavy now. And then, like a dam bursting- “I love her.” It cuts through everything. III stops. Blinks. The room goes still. Even I stop breathing. Vessel stares at him like fire incarnate. 

“I love her, you twisted, selfish bastard. I have loved her through every fucking tear you caused. Every bruise on her spirit. Every time she smiled like it hurt.” His voice rises now, no longer calm. “I watched her fade because of you. And I kept my mouth shut. Because I thought she needed to fight her way out of you on her own. But I can’t stand here anymore while you stand in this room and call her such vile things.” III’s face contorts. Rage. Shame. Fury. He steps forward, and shoves Vessel hard in the chest. Vessel doesn’t even stumble. 

He absorbs it. Then explodes. “You think you’re a man because you know how to break things? Because you know how to control people with fear and fists and tears? You call that love? You call what you did to her devotion?” His chest is heaving now, his gestures wild and flailing, eyes wide and face red. His voice shakes with every word. “I was there when she stopped eating. When she cried in dressing rooms. When she slept in stairwells because she was too scared to go back to you. I was there when she said she felt like she was disappearing.” His voice cracks. 

And when he speaks again, it’s devastated. “And I loved her through all of it. Quietly. Respectfully. Desperately. Because I knew touching her before she was ready would make me no better than you.” III doesn’t respond. Because what can he say? He’s finally lost the one thing he thought he owned. Not because Vessel stole me. Because he let me slip away. He pushed me away as hard as he could. I step out from behind the bed. Barefoot. Shaking. But no longer afraid. “Leave,” I say. He looks at me. Something flickers in his eyes. Not love. Not hate. Just emptiness and intoxication. 

He gives us both a nod, his eyes fixed on the ground as he turns walks out without another word. The door clicks shut behind him. The silence that follows is deafening. Vessel turns to me. But I don’t speak. I walk into him like gravity’s pulling me there. My arms wrap around his waist. His hoodie smells like sweat and soap, and he holds me like he’s terrified I’ll shatter. 

We stay like that for a long time. No words. Just breathing.  

__________ (My POV) 

The door is closed. The shouting has stopped. The silence that follows is thicker than anything III could’ve screamed. But it’s not empty. It’s heavy. Breathing. Full of everything we haven’t said. Vessel sits at the edge of the bed, head bowed, hands braced on his knees like he’s holding up the weight of the night. I’m still standing, a few feet away, wrapped in my oversized hoodie like its armor. We quietly and solemnly coexist in this charged space, contemplating, processing, comprehending. Part of me is waiting for the door to slam open again. It doesn’t. Neither of us move. Not for a while. 

Not until I speak. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” My voice barely cuts through the quiet. But he hears it. His shoulders rise. Fall. Still, he doesn’t look at me. “Because it wasn’t my place.” That makes my chest ache. “Even when I was falling apart?” I whisper. My saddened gaze drifts over and falls upon his form. 

He finally turns to me. His eyes are tired. Raw. Still burning faintly from the fire he unleashed only minutes ago. But there’s no regret there. Only grief, and something softer. “I saw the cracks,” he says. “But I also saw how hard you were trying to hold everything together. I didn’t want to be one more thing pulling you in another direction.” I give a moment of pause, then I reply, “You wouldn’t have been.” “You were with him.” he mutters. “That doesn’t mean you had to stay silent.” I say, my tone low and sympathetic. “No,” he says. “But I chose to.” I step forward. “Why?” 

He doesn’t hesitate. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was another man waiting for you to break so I could sweep in and collect the pieces.” I stop. That lands harder than I expect. “I just wanted you safe,” he adds. “Even if it meant loving you from far enough away that you never had to carry the weight of it.” I sit beside him. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. Close enough to hurt. 

I reach out, slowly, fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. “And now?” His breath catches. “Now I wish I’d told you sooner,” he admits. Silence again. But it’s not cold this time. It’s full of the question neither of us wants to ask. What now? 

We lie back on the bed without saying anything more. Fully dressed. Barefoot. Facing each other in the low light, heads on opposite pillows. His fingers find mine between us, tentative at first, then certain. His hand is warm. Steady. Safe. Like he’s always been. 

“Do you still feel it?” I ask. He blinks. “What?” “The love. For me.” His jaw tightens. Then he nods. “I think I always will.” It should scare me. It doesn’t. Not anymore. 

I shift closer, resting my forehead against his. He closes his eyes. His voice is almost a breath. “I would’ve waited years if it meant you got to find peace.” I don’t cry. I just lean in, eyes fluttering shut, and kiss him once. Slow, soft, full of everything we’ve both left unsaid. His lips don’t move like he’s claiming something. They move like he’s letting go. 

When we part, neither of us speaks. We just stay there. Holding each other. He pulls me gently against his chest, and I curl into him like I was made for the space between his arms. There’s nothing rushed. Nothing possessive. Only this moment. Only us. If this is the last night we ever get to feel this… I’m glad it feels like home. 

__________  (Vessel’s POV) 

She’s asleep in my arms. Her breath is slow, steady, warm against the hollow of my collarbone. One leg draped across mine. Her hand still lightly curled in the fabric of my hoodie like she needs to hold onto something even in sleep. And I don’t move. Not a muscle. Not even to blink more than I need to. Because this… This might be the only night I ever get to hold her like this. And I don’t want to lose a single second of it. 

The room is quiet, lit only by the soft amber glow from the lamp by the bed. Outside, the city hums faintly; taxis, wind, rain tapping softly against the window like it knows not to intrude. Inside, the silence feels alive. Sacred. She kissed me. She kissed me and I didn’t deserve it. Not because I’ve done something wrong, but because she’s not mine to keep. She never was. But for a moment… For a breath in time that I’ll never forget… She was. 

I replay it again. The feel of her lips on mine. Soft. Uncertain. Full of gratitude and sadness and the tiniest echo of something that might have been love. She kissed me like it might be the first and the last. And I kissed her back like I knew it absolutely was. 

Not because she’ll leave me. Not because we’ll part ways in some dramatic fashion. But because the version of her that needed me like this, the broken, aching girl who found safety in the space beside me, she’s going to begin to heal. And healing means she won’t need to hold my hand forever. I want her to be free. Even if that means she runs from me. Even if she wakes tomorrow and never kisses me again. 

God, she’s beautiful. Not in the way people usually mean it. Not the magazine kind. Not the stage-lights kind. She’s beautiful because she feels. Because she stayed soft even when the world tried to sharpen her. Because when she looks at you, really looks, it’s like she’s seeing past every lie you’ve ever told yourself. Every shred of self-doubt, every insecurity. 

 And when she smiled at me tonight, that tiny, tired smile, it felt like forgiveness. Not for something I’d done. But for everything I hadn’t said. Why didn’t I say something sooner? Because I was terrified. Terrified that loving her would be selfish. Terrified that she’d turn away. Terrified that she’d look at me and see someone else trying to claim her. 

So I kept it buried. I let myself love her in silence. In glances. In stupid small things. Like knowing how she takes her tea without asking. Like standing between her and the press when she flinched at the flash. Like sitting with her in dressing rooms when she didn’t want to be alone but couldn’t quite say why. 

I’ve loved her every day in invisible ways. And tonight, when she finally looked me in the eye and asked if I still felt it, I swear my heart skipped a beat. Because it’s never stopped. Not once. 

 I should’ve left the kiss alone. But I couldn’t. When her lips brushed mine, I felt the whole weight of restraint I’ve carried for months crack straight down the middle. She kissed me like she was giving me something precious. And I kissed her back like it hurt to breathe. I didn’t press for more. Didn’t deepen it. Didn’t pull her closer. Because this isn’t about getting. This is about being. Being the place where she can finally fall apart without fear. Being the arms that hold without taking. Being the answer to a question she didn’t even know she was asking. 

She shifts in her sleep, pressing her face closer to my chest. Her breath ghosts across my skin, and I swear it almost makes me cry. 

I’ve spent years on the road. I’ve stood before thousands in silence. I’ve worn a mask every night and never once felt as exposed as I do now, lying in bed beside the one person I would give my entire soul to, just to make sure she wakes up tomorrow feeling lighter than she did yesterday. And she’s here. Wrapped around me. Trusting me. Needing nothing more than space and warmth and presence. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to give. 

What happens tomorrow, I don’t know. Maybe she’ll still need me. Maybe she won’t. Maybe we’ll move forward into something neither of us can name yet. Or maybe this is the chapter that ends without a sequel. But no matter what comes next, I know one thing. Tonight mattered. This moment, this hour lying in the dark, hearts beating just inches apart, no walls between us, it’s real. And no one can take it from me. 

I close my eyes. Let my fingers softly trace the curve of her spine through the cotton of her shirt. Just once. A ghost of a touch. She exhales, a content, unconscious sigh, and nuzzles in closer. And I know… Whatever this was. Whatever this is… It’s love. And I will never love anyone the way I love her now. Quietly. Fiercely. Completely. Even if I never say it again. Even if this is the last night she ever lets me hold her like this. 

@yourgirlisa here you go! If you'd like to be added here, let me know.

[3grey-morals5]

vent(?)asf also poll at the end if u read it

am i the only one that has VERY specific interests inside of scp but also isn't very connected to the lore of said interests?

Like, first off I am extremely specific with the things I like and don't know alot of the BROAD info. For example I'm been obsessed with 035,049, and alagadda for the last 4 years or so, and newly fixated on sarkicism, but that's kinda it. Like if you asked me anything abt the mtf groups or the researchers i couldn't give you anything just bc I haven't looked into them and haven't really planned to. I know I SHOULD learn absolutely everything I can about every topic, but it's a very daunting task. Scp is huge. Am I being a fake fan or poser just because I cant understand alot of info on different aspects in scp? I want to, it's just scary.

second, even with the things I DO like (I'll use sarkicism and alagadda as an example, only because I'm somewhat happy on the knowledge I have on 035 and 049) I still don't know as much as other people into it. Am I even allowed to say I like alagadda if I haven't read all the tales and know the entire lore? Am I able to say I like sarkicism and post about it if I haven't even started reading En Memoria Adytumn(?) And get most of my info from what others say (I have read both tales - to my knowledge- containing derdekeas, so he's an exception ig). I don't want to be a fraud. I love my headcanons and making new stories out of stuff I know for my own universe, but I'm starting to think that they're moving me back in my "studies" of scp

All in all, I'm worried. I've felt like this for the whole 5 years I've been in this community, and it's never really gone away no matter how much I assure myself that it's okay to not know everything. I don't want to let anyone down or disappoint, I want to be the "ideal fan" of the scp universe that knows almost everything but I'm just not. I have barely anything to show for the time I've been obsessed with it, and it's embarrassing. Tbh i dont feel comfortable calling it a special intrest of mine anymore just bc from what ive heard, a special intrest is something youll learn anything about and are expertly versed on. I want so badly to learn everything I can, bit there's a lack of spark to do so. I think my pessimism is holding me back and I don't know how to break free. It sucks ass.

Anyways, thanks for making it this far. Just something I had to get off my chest. If you have any insights or opinions, please vote on what I should do. I think it would give me the push I need to get set on a decision and

[melobin]

“i love all 7 not just one” yet ur so dismissive abt a certain member which clearly isn’t loving all 7 goofy ass. no wonder ur friends with ninona 🤣 both y’all r ot6ers

me when i’m onto nothing the fact you can sit and assume you know how i genuinely feel about ot7 riize is crazy to me. you can continue to think what you want to because i can assure you both ninona and i do not gaf !! im far past the point of caring if people think i negatively of me over the situation with seunghan !! i know i love seunghan ! my friends know it too ! i do not gaf if random people on the internet think differently bc frankly why should i ? i run a smut blog girl im just here to talk about cock 99% of the time 😭

if i’m being completely honest here. i feel like people seem to struggle to grasp the concept that people handle things in their own ways. i’m a very sensitive and emotional person and over the years ive been trying to deal with that in a way where i don’t get hurt so easily. i’ve been dealing with severe anxiety for years i have chronic depression if i sat and thought about seunghan’s hiatus every day i would be completely miserable and worried and that’s not how i want to be i want to be okay i want to feel okay.

grief has never been something i ever get too emotional over it just doesn’t happen, of course it’s sad to not see him there but the way i handle things doesn’t mean i dislike him in anyway shape or form and i’m frankly quite tired of having to explain myself about this. at the end of the day, if seunghan returns it’ll be one of the best things to happen, it’ll make me incredibly happy, i don’t talk about my emotions often but if you want the truth there it is. if he, god forbid, ends up being removed from riize then it will hurt me and i will be upset. i’d rather spend his hiatus in a middle group of knowing there’s realistically a 50/50 chance of him returning and him not rather than sitting and getting my hopes up only to be hurt and upset after.

the way i deal with this hiatus is for my own benefit and my own sanity, i don’t want to be sad all the time, i just barely made it out of a depressive episode and i know if i sat and dwelled on him being on hiatus then i probably wouldn’t have made it out of it. the way i treat the other 6 members is the same way i treat seunghan, i feel the same way about them all, it’s just not as simple to show that when he’s not in gifs or videos or photos.

writing about him is not as easy because i haven’t seen him for months and as time has gone by the other 6 have become more visibly comfortable and free on camera and we never got to see that with him. i love writing for him, his porn plot fic is one of my favourite fics ive written and im always happy to write for him. i just tend to write more for sungchan and eunseok because those are the members i am more sexually attracted to, im a slut man idk what you want me to say. people rarely send asks about seunghan, they’re mainly about sungchan and anton and there’s nothing i can do about that. if people send asks about him, i answer them? if they don’t then i dont, i can’t answer something that isn’t there.

i don’t mean to post such a long rant but frankly i’m just tired of having to say the same thing over and over. no, i don’t care if you think badly of me over it, i don’t care for people who think they know how i feel about something and act as if their opinion is the be all end all. so thank you for sending this so i could freely express my feelings about this.

and DAWG leave ninona out of this as well !!! she expressed why she doesn’t write for him and i touched on my own feelings about writing for seunghan. i never once viewed her in a negative way, she’s one of the funniest people ive had the pleasure of befriending and no, she doesn’t hate seunghan either !

[paingoes]

9. What kind of video games would they most like?

20. What was your first thought in creating them

For Paris, Delta, and Lorelai! Plus:

31. Who are they afraid of?

For Paris and Lorelai?

9. What kind of video games would they most like?

I think Delta is the only one who really plays video games, Paris and Lorelai are not that into it. Delta will basically play anything but tends to gravitate towards MMORPGs when he has time. other favorites are minecraft, dwarf fortress, and dark souls. which are very different i know lmfao. he likes variety.

if paris plays anything its something p fast-paced or reflex based. he would probably like rhythm games like geometry dash.

lorelai would probably only be into story-based/text heavy games. she would probably like disco elysium a lot tbh. but for her its not really gaming its just like the medium.

20. What was your first thought in creating them?

ive gone into depth about this before so i dont want to repeat myself too much but creation order was delta > paris > lorelai.

but actually the creation order was

kali >>>> delta > paris > lorelai

meaning that delta was originally created as a side character for this other chick’s story but i ended up getting very attached to his backstory and decided it was worth fleshing out. and now destroyer is so much longer and more complete than the original story it came from. oops.

but yeah delta was written w whump in mind and specifically written to be comforted. he’s my one and only.

paris was written just to be a whumper for delta and i started out wanting to make him as cruel as possible honestly and basically just a plot device but he ended up being like. oddly compelling. i think the stuff w constantine and that initial golden child/scapegoat dynamic delta ended up making him v sympathetic by accident and delta’s loyalty and willingness to work w him both kind of humanized him. additionally because delta is such a passive character that left paris to do a lot of the work when it came to actually moving the plot along so that’s another reason he couldn’t really be left as a one-dimensional whumper and why his motives actually had to make sense. he was a show stealer!!!

lorelai was created in response to paris and i think honestly to lend someeee levity to the dynamics. i wanted someone to be genuinely nice to delta and the first thought was like “what if someone was just a normal nice person in empire”. which i dont think is as true anymore i dont think lorelai is normal but well. that was the thought. also i thought it would be cool if the only person paris seems to genuinely like is this very sincere and sweet person who wants him to be better and how he can like reconcile that relationship w who he is.

well that was long anyway. but its funny because it made me realize the creation order of these characters also represents the fact that each was kind of built in response to the previous. thats neat.

31. Who are they afraid of?

paris is afraid of everybody at this point. he is scared of nezu on a very deep level and he’s scared of most imperials. he is scared of johanna but thats complicated and he fears her less as time goes on. he is scared of lorelai and how much power she holds over him. paris is scared of anyone whose approval he seeks and who he is dependent on emotionally because they could hurt him extremely badly if they wanted to and he feels like he wouldnt even be able to defend himself because he does totally deserve to be abandoned by them and never deserved that kind of patience or understanding in the first place. but. it hurts :(

lorelai is scared of what paris might do to himself and to others. she loves him a lot but the knowledge of what he’s capable of never goes away.

she isn’t really scared of anyone outside of that.

[lyrical-fics]

Can I request a fic inspired by kinda both I love you so (The Walters) OR/AND Francis Forever (mitski), Where the trailblazer has to leave Jarilo VI and Bronya or Seele or really any adult women are kinda sad Im asking for angst >:D

Feel free to ignore it if you don't vibe with this request! <3

I Miss You More Than Anything

Characters: Bronya, Seele, Serval

Song: Francis Forever

Synopsis: They knew you had to leave; you were a trailblazer, after all. However, they can’t just shake away the feeling of the feelings and memories the two of you shares together.

A/N: Yes, of course, anon!! I love Mitski very much, thank you for the request :D Also, a bit ooc Seele cause I have no idea how to write her, I’m so sorry. 😭 This is also probably a tad bit badly written, I’m using this to get out of my writer’s block and practically forced these words outta my brain 🥲

Serval

Serval knew of the consequences, she knew you would leave soon. After the incident that happened between her and the previous supreme guardian, she knew that she had to close off her heart. But here she was, in love with you; then you left. You left her and her heart that still ought to sing for you. But what can she do? You are a trailblazer, after all.

Serval didn’t cry when you left, knowing fully well what you do in your job as a trailblazer. But you can’t say she didn’t get hurt. She was hurt; so much to the point that as soon as she didn’t see your figure anymore, she ran to her workshop and cried the whole day; Gepard having to console her the whole duration of it.

She knows you wouldn’t come back and you couldn’t. So she faced the truth and tried to carry her life on normally.

Tried.

It’s 3am, she’s awake, looking at everything that reminded her of you. To the stuff that you left for her, unintentionally or not, to her very own workshop. You two spent a lot of time writing songs, talking and laughing together inside that building.

She wanted to sleep, but not when her mind is literally clouded by you. She needed something to pour all those thoughts out on. Now she’s writing a song about you again, only difference is— it’s no longer with you. She was used to this, composing music alone; until you arrived.

Oh, how she wishes she came with you instead and joined the trailblazers. But she couldn’t, she had a family here; a family that also loved her.

Serval’s stuck between her thoughts as she writes down lyrics for you. Lyrics you’ll never read. A song you’ll never hear. She can only chuckle softly as she feels her tears slowly drip down on the paper she’s writing on, writing one final lyric to finish the song for you.

“I’ve been trying to lay my head down, but I’m writing this at 3am.”

Bronya

Bronya wasn’t supposed to fall for you. She did her best to keep it all to herself, until you confessed your feelings for her. This was so wrong, she was aware you would leave that’s why she tried to avoid you. But how she wishes it didn’t end oh, so fast. Her mother dies by your hands, and you leave for another expedition. She should’ve expected it. So she’s left with a broken heart and a responsibility to shoulder.

She’s tired. So tired. Being the new supreme guardian gave her a lot of work to burden, more than she has ever handled before. Dark eye bags obviously appearing on her face. She hasn’t taken a rest in what, two days?

She didn’t cry when you left, that would destroy her reputation as the new supreme guardian, so she smiled softly and waved at you as she watched the train disappear.

Bronya would’ve finished her workload faster, if it weren’t for you lingering in her mind. They would have been by my side, encouraging me to finish this, she thought. They would have started helping me relax by now, she thought. Then she cried.

She didn’t need the whole world to know about what she has done for Jarilo-IV and the work she had to do. She needed your encouragement, your support, your praise. But you’re gone.

“I don’t need the world to see that I’ve been the best I can be, but I don’t think I can stand to be where you don’t see me.”

Seele

Seele was not worried a single bit when you left. You promised to return for her once you were done, after all. The first week of you leaving her was spent with numerous texts and calls with each other— until it stopped happening. She figured you were starting busy, so she waited. She waited, and waited, and waited. Numerous seasons passed by, but you never arrived.

Seele opens her phone and checks to see if there were any messages from you for the nth time that day, sighing as she sees an empty inbox. It’s been months since the two of you talked the last time, but she knows hopes you’d message her soon.

“Seele, don’t you think it’s time to move on? I don’t think she’s coming back sooner, she’s a trailblazer, remember that. They probably only said that to lessen your pain,” Oleg says, murmuring the last part, which didn’t go unnoticed by the girl.

“I’m working on it,” she replies blatantly, not even sparing him a glance.

“Look, Seele, if you don’t—”

“I’m going for a walk. Please don’t disturb me.”

She left with tears in her eyes. He was right. Maybe she should really think about moving on. You left and gave her empty promises, she should hate you.

And so, she gains a new goal. She straightens her back and continues walking around. Examining her surroundings, she notices that she ended up on a tree-lined path, the one that the two of you used to walk on. Looking up at the gaps of sunlight, she remembers your oh-so warm touch and smile.

Then she realizes.

“I miss you more than anything.”

[cyberdragoninfinity]

zane, ofc

ONE OF MY MOST ETERNAL FAVS

Why I like them/why I don’t: ZANEEEE oh i could write a thousand essays about how much i love him and why (and i have) but i will keep it brief for now. GX may have dropped the ball with the writing on half its series's cast but they knew what they were doing with zane. His character arc is so agonizing and he's such an interesting and complicated character. He threw so much away chasing after sky high standards and victory just to feel something and then killed himself when he knew he was at death's door and THEN had to face consequences of not actually dying and now having to start the long road to recovery. god. he's just fantastic. not a villain or even really a bad guy at his core but more of a performative bad guy. heel_turn_2.mp3. i love him so much

What I like about their appearance: the hell kaiser look is still just absolutely top notch yugioh outfit design. the black and silver...the ref stripes down the legs, it's such a kickass color palette that really compliments zane's dark teal hair (i also love how he and syrus really do have the same shape of bangs it's really cute)

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? going to be a Zane Truesdale preference-haver until the end of time i fear....it's just such a badass name it suits him so well imo. i do also like calling him ryozane after seeing a twitter oomf do it. the beautiful bridge gap between a dub and sub liker in conversation: just shoving both names together into one word <3

OTP: it has been a hot minute since ive gone insane about them but know zatticus/idolshipping is still an all time fav ygo ship for me. there is so much love there and also they are a fucking mess. ideal zatticus dynamic is a bit this to me i must say. they need a little sprinkling of divorce in there. they came like that

NOTP: idk man i think if you ship him with his little brother you should get a really big rock smashed over your head tbqh

OT3: do also enjoy the zane/atticus/fujiwara Elite Trio.... three guys who are mentally ill and nonbinary in three different directions. i need them to play dnd together so bad

Favourite card they use: tossup between Chimeratech Overdragon (such a cool as hell monster,) good old Cyber End Dragon (probably my favorite ace monster in all of GX and top three for all of yugioh period,) and, of course, Power Bond (*thinks about the truesdale bros and starts crying sobbing wailing etc*)

Favourite moment they were in: gotta be the zane vs possessed!jesse season 3 duel/zane's last stand of course. everything about it. when gx had a lighting and color budget and it shredded like hell. when zane goes out having summoned Cyber End, his ace and oldest friend, instead of using the Cyberdarks anymore, and all the thematic weight to that. the dub exclusive of zane telling syrus he's proud of him immediately before dying. absolute S tier yugioh.

Least favourite moment: HM. LIKE. i dont even hate it i think it's an engaging and fucked up duel but i will say the zane vs syrus s2 duel because it makes people absolutely fuck up comprehending both of these characters like. atrociously badly. see me after class.

im gonna replace the FKM last question with 'something you associate with the character' (song, animal, flowers, etc etc)' instead: hisuian samurott :^) the hell kaiser pokemon ever to me

[ucetheones]

Jey Uso X The Judgement Day!Polycule. | Found Family.

as you can tell, that segment really got my brain WORKING. because jey w tjd?? y'all know that's right up my mf alley!! ive only written jey x dom and like,, barely; but w.e!! eat ur fucking food <3

unedited cos yeah.

Joining The Judgement Day could've been the biggest mistake of Jey's life, it could've easily been the worst choice he's made. Turning heel again after such a short time being a baby face was by far the oddest part for the Samoan.

But, despite all the people telling him he was wrong for agreeing, despite all the ways it could've gone badly, Jey stood alongside them only weeks following Dominik's proposal. It was so far an amazing choice. 

Of course it wasn't truly as easy as just agreeing, they wanted to set boundaries from the jump. Jey did too.

He needed to know he wasn't trapping himself, he couldn't handle another situation like that of The Bloodline. He voiced this.

In turn, they made it clear should Jey want out, he was free to do so, they weren't taking prisoners. They were family. They also made it clear that they'd always fight with him, and never against him, no matter what issues they may be having in the back. 

For their unwavering protection and devotion, the faction demanded one thing. That one thing being Jey keeps the true nature of The Judgement Day's relationship to himself. It wasn't uncommon for co-workers to date, but it was uncommon for entire factions to find themselves together. 

Jey agreed. He had no issues with what they got up to. 

Unsurprisingly, bonding with Dominik was the easiest of the group, the younger man was much different than his on-screen persona. He was gentle, sweet, and incredibly tactile. On numerous occasions, Jey has woken up to find Dom wrapped around him, knocked out and drooling onto the spare hotel pillow.

The first time, Jey startled, jostling the sleeping male in the process, who merely pouted and shuffled closer. When Priest had returned to the room, Jey scrambled for an explanation, only to be met with a low laugh, and a quick, "Get used to it," before he was passing Jey a cup of still hot coffee.

After that, Jey found himself in that position at least twice a week while traveling with the faction. 

Slowly, Jey got closer with the rest of the group, he and Finn found an easy rhythm training together, while he and Damian worked out strategy. 

Rhea was harder to find an entry with, both tried countless times at conversation, and building a connection; but to little avail. It was starting to grate on Jey's nerves, but he knew it wasn't the woman's fault. It wasn't his either. Or maybe it was, he couldn't say for sure.

Still, it frustrated him to no end.

He and Rhea went on that way for nearly three months. Three fucking months. Until the first time he'd seen Jimmy outside of promotion. He hardly remembers locking eyes with his twin before the elder is pushing his way through the small crowd to try and talk to him.

Jey hasn't spoken to Jimmy seriously, since before he joined The Judgement Day. He doesn't want to talk to him, or anyone from his family for that matter, but Jimmy is determined.

"Aye, Uce! You don't answer the phone no more? What's up wit' you?"

Jey wants to tell him he got a new phone and number, wants to tell him he only kept the other phone for the day he felt ready to face his family again. 

He says none of this, because his breathing is picking up, and his hands are starting to shake.

Jimmy doesn't quit, to the shock of no one. 

"You join The Judgement Day and now you too good fo' yo' own twin? You know, bein' on RAW just temporary, baby bro. I'ma get you back." 

Before Jey can shake his head, and force out a reply, he feels Rhea's hand slipping into his; offering him both a lifeline and relief. 

"You think cornering Jey in a place where every member of his family is, was a bright idea?" Rhea's voice is firm, fierce in the way she only gets when one of her boy's is in potential danger. 

Meaning she sees Jey as such. She sees him as family. He doesn't show it, but he is slightly surprised. But he knows he probably shouldn't be, he wouldn't have lasted as long as he did with the group if she hadn't. 

Moreover, without looking, Jey knows exactly where Dominik, Finn and Damian are. He knows they're currently surrounding all exits should Jimmy try something. He feels comforted by the knowledge. 

Jimmy sucks his teeth, his tone clipped as he speaks, "you ain't his family, Rhea. Don't start tripping. Y'all can pump that family bullshit on RAW and have the fans eat it up, but you don't know Jey. You don't know shit 'bout him. You don't know how to comfort him after a bad day, you don't know shit 'bout what my twin been through!"

In reply, all Rhea does is tilt her head and hum once. 

"I know him well enough to know what he looks like when he's had a nightmare about the day you kicked him in the face. We know him well enough to know why Jey can't sleep with his back to the door anymore. We know what he looks like when he's feeling safe, and carefree."

Jimmy grows visibly upset at her words, a soft growl bubbling from his chest. The implications of what she said rang loud and clear.

All Jey can do is inch closer to the woman, his lips pursed as he gives her hand a gentle tug. A silent plea for something Jey isn't even sure of. 

Still, she seems to understand if the way she smirks is anything to go off of, "You might not have a Mami, but Jey does. And Mami? She takes care of her boys, unlike your Tribal Chief. Remember that next time you think you can just step to Jey when he clearly wants nothing to do with you."

They don't give Jimmy the chance to respond before Rhea is ushering him away. 

It should embarrass Jey that Rhea is younger than him, and had essentially taken on the role of protecting him, but it doesn't. 

It makes him feel warm inside, valued in a way he never felt amongst his own blood. She cared enough to stick her neck out for him, to show she wasn't going to leave him high and dry outside of matters of the business. 

Hell, he wasn't even aware Rhea knew anything about him, let alone such intimate things.

When they meet up with the rest of the group, Dominik latches onto Jey like he's afraid he'll vanish; effectively burying his nose into the Samoan's neck as he mumbles, "He's lucky Mami went over there and not me, he'd be meeting my foot up his ass, Amor."

Jey can't help but flush red before bursting into laughter alongside the others, the absurdity of Dom's words hitting them all at once, they all ignore the way the younger man sputters his defenses. Finn is the only one to offer him any apologies, ruffling his hair in the process.

Back at the hotel, Rhea pulls him aside. She's silent as she stares at him, before she's tugging him into a hug, her accent thick with emotion, "we've got you now, Jey. You can exhale, you know?"

His knee-jerk reaction is to question what she means, but she continues before he can, "you've been wound up so tight for so many years…you can let us carry some of that burden. You're not some tag-along. We sought you out, we saw you. You don't have anything to prove to us, or anyone else…"

At that moment, it dawns on Jey that in getting close with the others, he might've unintentionally been steering away from Rhea, trying to prove himself as an asset to her by working well with the others. As the only woman in their faction, her opinion was highly favored, one declaration of Jey being unneeded and he'd be gone. 

But here she was, telling him without fear that the opposite was true.

With a shaky nod, Jey wraps his arms around her frame, exhaling softly when he feels her fingers begin to card through his curls. An action he's seen her perform on Dominik to bring him back down to reality when things get too loud in his head.

Jey can see why it works for Dom, because it definitely is for him.

He's relaxing against the Australian woman, finding warmth in the gentle vibration coming from her chest as she begins to sway their embraced frames.

The first person to kiss Jey is coincidentally Rhea. They were all drunk, and incredibly touchy. Which was fine for the original members of The Judgement Day as they were all dating, but it should've been weird for them when Dominik demanded to sit in Jey's lap. It should've been weirder for everyone when Rhea leaned down and pressed a messy, albeit passionate kiss to his lips after doing so to Dom first. 

It wasn't at all weird that Jey didn't hesitate to return the kiss, earning a breathy moan from the Australian.

Instead Finn gasped loudly and began frowning, "Rhea! You skipped tha' line! Ya'know I wanted ta' be first! I was gonna ask Jey in tha' morning."

Rhea merely laughs, the sound slightly mischievous but excited, "Ya' snooze ya' lose, baby!"

Jey is quick to voice his confusion, along with his approval, "I ain't sure what's goin' on righ' now, but if one of ya' don't kiss me again, I'm leavin'."

In turn, Damian doesn't waste any time scooping Dom out of Jey's lap, passing him off to Rhea; before he's claiming Jey's lips in a kiss. The room fills with whoops and laughter.

It was undoubtedly different from kissing Rhea, if for no other reason than because he was leading the kiss with an ease Jey couldn't keep up with in his drunken haze, but he was hellbent on trying his best.

Before he can fully lose himself in the kiss, Finn is huffing and easily replacing Damian, quickly spurred on by the small whimper Jey can't hold back when their lips meet.

Much like with the others, the kiss is over far too soon for Jey's liking, but he's unable to express his disdain before Dominik is pushing his way past Finn and Damian to reclaim his place in Jey's lap. 

"Ah, the best for last! Unlike these animals, I'm a gentleman, with manners. So, Jey, may I have the honor of kiss—" the elder silences Dom by capturing his lips in a heated kiss, ripping a wanton whine from the male as his arms wrap around Jey's neck.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur of random kissing, ending in everyone passing out on Jey's bed; a mess of tangled limbs greeting them the following morning. 

From then on, things between Jey and the faction only grew stronger. They'd made things official a few days after that fateful night, Jey easily falling into the fold, completing their relationship in ways none knew they'd needed until the Samoan was taking his rightful place alongside them. 

The night Jey won the Intercontinental Championship, Damian and Finn were at ringside, cheering him on and keeping the members of Imperium at bay. 

Rhea and Dominik were noticeably absent, but Jey knew beforehand they'd be recovering from their own matches that night. 

He was pleasantly surprised when his girlfriend had slid into the ring, shadowed by Dominik who was beaming and gathering him in a tight hug.

Rhea gave a speech, declaring this only the beginning of their dominant reign on Monday Night Raw, with every member of their faction holding gold, it was only a matter of time before one of her boys would be plucking that title from Seth Rollins. 

Breathing heavily, his arm and title raised above his head whilst the rest of his family celebrates his win, Jey can't help but feel reaffirmed that he made the right choice in joining their mismatched family.

It worked in ways no one aside from the five of them would ever understand, and Jey was more than okay with that. He didn't need to explain himself to anyone. Not with his three boyfriends and spitfire of a girlfriend in his corner. 

[proxythe]

Another hc is I think Shinji loses a lot of weight during the 2 years just cuz he isn’t getting enough to eat and he’s getting sicker and then when he’s recovering he has to take a lot of time to be able to move again so he’s definitely not doing much strenuous activity and he regains weight slowly. I think what is able to really help him both gain weight and learn to be nicer to himself is he makes food that he himself would enjoy (its a long journey cuz he’s not used to being nice to himself and he’s very crabby about it lol) and I like to imagine him having a sweet tooth and liking cookies and cake a lot and he gets chubbier over time and Akihiko is like over the moon cuz Shinji is taking care of himself and it’s showing!

Then Mitsuru um because of fucked up angsty reasons shes had to prioritize her appearance a lot, a whole metaphor for keeping up a facade so she doesn’t reflect badly on the company, and she always is very controlling of what she eats and how it’d make her look. She also puts a lot of effort into her hair and makeup to keep up a perfect image of femininity. Then like during her social link she’s with Kotone just kinda exploring common shit for the first time and she develops a love of fast food and it frightens her cuz like. What’s happening to her she isn’t allowed to have this kinda indulgence and she certainly isn’t allowed to enjoy it either. But she’s supported and encouraged to let herself eat whatever she wants and she just explores a lot of options and eats what she likes even if it’s not some perfect shit that keeps her skinny I think Kotone and Yukari would collectively be like PLEEASSEEE DO WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY IF ANYONE SAYS ANYTHING WE WILL MURDER THEM WE HAVE OUR WEAPONS DRAWN. So Mitsuru gets fatter and also stops wearing makeup too and it’s very scary cuz she’s always had it ingrained in her that this is the last thing she’s allowed to be but she also feels her body and looks at her natural face and she finally feels like her body is her own and she loves what she’s made

Obviously we gotta have Shinji and Mitsuru bond over their new food revelations it’s part of repairing some strain in their relationship I think Shinji can definitely be pretentious about food and would probably have negative opinions of fast food like he’ll eat it cuz sometimes you just can’t cook but hes snarky about it. But when he sees Mitsuru likes it she figures he’s got something snarky to say and he’s just like "uh actually knowing what you’ve gone through I’d be pissed if you didn’t eat fast food let’s go get some borgers". He does make some of his own shit occasionally though like burgers and fries for Mitsuru to have and it’s a nice gesture but it just doesn’t capture the ENERGY of wild duck burger 🙄. Shinji would melt anyone if they said that though alsjka. Mitsuru in return would get Shinji some fancy ingredients and any special sweets that are all expensive (even though I strongly believe the happiest ending for Mitsuru is one where she isn’t really a part of the Kirijo group family anymore let’s just say she still has a way to get yummy snack akjsks). They candy is always really strange and tastes like shit 8/10 times and Shinji will eat all of it anyway and he will not share

Basically Shinji 🤝 Mitsuru: gaining weight and exploring what foods they like for the first time as a way of showing they’re recovering

i’ve thought ab this with shinji constantly (i’m not sure the oversized clothes i put him in have ever properly showed it tho 😭) but i’ve never imagined it with mitsuru !! i definitely draw mitsuru a bit thicker than she actually is but ive never put much thought behind it besides it looks better to me LMFAO … now i will have a reason to continue drawing her this way and more…

in general, the whole “gaining weight to signify growth” oh i could collapse i fear … literally the most perfect & beautiful hc for any fandom…

& guhhh i seriously seriously am in love w shinji & mitsu friendship so much. i always love to think about the respect they have for each other and how they can alwyas just get together if they want to chill … falls to my knees. them getting food together and it’s whatever they want bc they’re becoming so secure in their lives … ……. no judgement just vibes. post canon shinji lives au, i love u so much…

also the bits w aki, kotone, & yukari … clenches fist. sniffle. this is kind of in relation to all of sees but it works here so i’ll mention it: their entire group vehemently protecting each other even tho they’re all fully capable of doing so on their own (except probably fuuka & ken to an extent) is actually just a god tier level thought. big family ..

+ i love that u send such long asks Thank you so much… you’ve already said everything so i feel like there’s not much for me to add !! but i love this so much… 🫶🫶

[bytchysylvy]

ART VS ARTIST 2023 + yet another reflection

tw ed recovery

I dont know when I developed an eating disorder since it feels like its always been there, having off and on symptoms in childhood and in my teen years, but it wasnt until about 2017 where I started engaging in complete restriction. For years I've dealt with health problems that my doctors could never figure out the cause of, never looking into my eating habits (in fairness, I wouldn't have been honest at the time). I pseudo-recovered in 2020, where suddenly so many of my problems vanished nearly overnight. But then relapsed very hard in 2022, I spent the next few months basically being dead let alone making art. By january I could barely stand yet was told "we dont have to do anything about it". In feburary after failing to find treatment I decided to recover on my own and gave myself refeeding syndrome, avoiding hospitalization by accidentally misleading the er about the treatment I was receiving (which was none). In march my therapist reached out to an eating disorder clinic and by april I was in treatment. From then until the end of october has been a mix of php and iop treatment, having to take residency in seattle for awhile at one point. I've gone down to regular outpatient, things have gotten rocky again but at least I'm not where I was a year ago and will never be back at square one again.

I was really reluctant to do one of these art vs artist things despite wanting to for awhile now since I gained 50% of my initial body weight since the start of the year and have never been so self conscious about my appearance; I had to change my entire wardrobe, hurts man. But rehimboification gave me my ability to make art back and ive since made too many bangers to pick my top eight from. I did four sets of the cast, 30+ pages of comics, and returned to animation. ACT 1 is in its last third of work, ACT 2 is about a third done. I've picked up sewing (you can see the flag i made in the background) and plan to garden once its the season to do so. Im in an infinitely healthier place now both physically and mentally. My only regret is not getting help sooner and hurting myself this badly in the first place.

I'm thankful for what this year has given me back, but with being in therapy 12-30 hours a week while being in and out of work, I'm tired. I'm glad that this year of my life is over.

[lazulian-devil]

Thoughts on Book 9, halfway point

Okay so im in Book 9, right? End of Phase 1 of Skulduggery Pleasant.

And I remember, back when I read it as it came out, that I hated how it ended, how everything was so fixed on Darquesse, that I was relieved that she was finally gone from the story (lol) and that I went into Phase 2 weirdly exhausted. Book 9 actually made me abandon SP until something like Book 12 was out?

Now, according to my Kindle, Ive read 94% of Phase 1. Im somewhere around Chapter 56 of Book 9, so Im about halfway through.

And I have to say.

Its such a full book? So much happens? And its so all over the place? Okay we are here now, and now we are here. Brides of the Blood Tears, other dimension, back again, Darquesse, Mirror Image revival, future perspective telling us its all gonna be okay, and and and.

I think Im overwhelmed by this book. Last Stand of Dead Men was utterly enjoyable. But it felt like the book had purpose. Book 9 on the other hand feels like its desperately trying to write itself out of the godhood of problems it created. It wants to do justice to everything Darquesse was built up to be and yet still defeat her.

The problem is that the strategies are simply not very clever and knowing in which direction its going also makes so much of it appear cheap because it wasnt really relevant later?

Darquesse is both built up to be non human and yet appeals to humanity. And I suppose theres a point made there but its... shes just not fun? I think she never was as a villain. Her whole speech about how changing energies is not killing someone and then through like five minutes of group time she remembers "oh fuck, yeah nope that was wrong". Its so weird. Its so jarring. The character feels inconsistent in their own darn book.

Its not that its badly written. Tanith returning is great. Billy Ray is such an utterly human figure in this one and I genuinely feel bad for him (as he evidently truly loved Tanith as a Remnant). Skulduggerys treatment of the "other" Nefarian Serpine shows so much character growth. China is more and more actually an involved character. And a few others I cant remember.

I just.

I dont know. Its a weird feeling because many of the books I have read over the last dozen weeks were also in my head as "not actually that good storywise but well written" and some of that has turned out wrong! I always enjoyed reading them but some stories are much better than I remember.

But I think I arrived at this point in which the story is too large for the books. I care about the characters. About the world. But I dont know if I care about the stakes anymore. I dont know if Darquesse matters to me anymore. What does she even say about humanity? What does she reflect? That we can grow? That we are inherently evil? These are all things better illustrated by other characters.

Is it supposed to be a play on the Phase 2 reveal of Valkyrie being actually a Faceless One? Is Darquesse a shard of said ungodly evil? If so, wouldnt we have benefitted from said reveal in the Phase of its relevancy? Why is it so late?

I think SP sometimes suffers from the Star Wars "Skywalker" symptom of everything being connected at all times.

I dont know. This is weird. I still have 6% and around 50 chapters to go but Im unsure now. I stand before the mirror of literary interest and wonder if there is anything substantial to be seen.

And I know I'll enjoy the book. Its well written. I love Landy.

But having read them all in a row in such close succesion makes me realise how somewhat badly planned they are and how many massive plotholes there often exist.

Maybe the story got too big. I dont if i'll be exhausted. But Im a little worried.

[near-seth-experience]

Personal vents, dont mind me. I'm really going through it, and tbh I just need to lay everything out on the table. I think it kinda helps me process/ look at the full picture.

Lately, I've been feeling like the people I call my friends don't really give a shit about me. Every time I try to vent in one of our discords, I feel like I get brushed off (kind of like that, "Oh no! Anyway..." meme, tbh), and it's been ongoing for a long time, so I've stopped bothering unless something really gets to me. Recently though I've made it known that I'm struggling pretty badly, ive gone radio-silent and have been isolating, and next to no effort has been made to check on me over the course of the past 2 weeks. The closest thing I have gotten in acknowledgment was a gif or two sent in consolation.

On top of that. Only one person remembered my birthday and sent a message (kind of a bummer considering I keep track of all of theirs and have given gifts to them all over the past two years). The amounts of times I check on them and support them is severely disproportionate to their reciprocation, and I'm really beginning to feel like I'd be better off alone.

a friend-of-a-friend who makes me uncomfortable for multiple reasons was brought into a shared space and now it feels I'm being replaced by them.

I've been unemployed for over a year,

I haven't been on antidepressants or my arthritis medication in over a year,

I can't get a full night's sleep, I struggle to stand up/sit down, and it's even been a challenge lately to pull off a shirt or step my second leg into a pair of pants. My mobility is the worst it's ever been.

My psoriasis is completely out of control, both in terms of surface area and levels of inflammation. I'm constantly scratching my patches and breaking skin, making myself bleed. Seriously, it's this bad:

a collections agency is apparently on my ass now trying to get $4k out of me because last year my specialty pharmacy apparently didn't get paid properly for my arthritis medication through their copay assistance program.

I interviewed for a job on 5/1, was told they'd keep me updated two weeks later, and it's been a month since that, so I'm anxious that this job ghosted me, which really sucks because it's something that I could have done confidently and now I feel hopeless since there doesn't really seem like there's anything in my area that I am physically able to do. (I need an office job with next to no experience required, preferably not customer/public-facing)

My left foot has been swollen since March and my rheumatologist has been hoping that getting me back on the arthritis medication would resolve the issue, but the state's shitty Medicaid isn't wanting to cover it, and the medication manufacturer's support program wants to know info about my family's income to determine my eligibility (but I'm 30... they don't need my family's pay-stubs. Fuck that) so I gotta put my foot down and tell my doc that I'm at my wits end and he just needs to try getting me a different medication because at this rate I'm not gonna get any relief til 2025 at the earliest.

I'm stuck living with Trumpy parents who go to a culty church, and I feel as though I can't speak my mind or refuse their expectations while I'm freeloading under their roof and eating their food.

I made a happy pride tweet earlier in the month that talked about how and why I identify certain ways on a Twitter that's under one of my other anonymous handles away from family, and my sister stalked me, found it, and told me as much. (She's the least bigoted which is a silver lining but I don't share those personal details to family for a reason, so it felt like a huge breach or privacy, and i havent tweeted in two weeks because i dont know if i should block her, change the @, or remake the twitter all together. But it's tied to other stuff... so it's as if it's just... contaminated, i guess?)

I turned 30 and I'm still in the "years without relationship = years alive" crowd so this year's birthday was just another big wave of loneliness and feeling pathetic.

[chloeangelic]

OMG! The new chapter of ''Love Me Back'' is so much. How can something that starts like this chapter end up so badly? As with any good story, I knew the angst was around the corner, but what an ending.😳

I loved how you put her mental issues out in the open, with her thoughts and the therapy session in the first part of the chapter. It makes her more realistic, complex, and easier to comprehend. I totally get her. I share some of her thoughts, but at the same time, this chapter made me a bit angry. I hope the next part makes sense at the end. The mix of feelings this chapter made me feel is murky. Which shows me how well-written I found it and how much I liked it.

Self-worth can be a tricky thing, especially when starting a new relationship adds the fear of showing your true self and being rejected, a thing she's already gone through by the glimpses of her past relationships. Being told you're not girlfriend/wife material can create deep wounds, increasing her mental health struggles.

Their relationship is new, and they still have a lot to settle. I know WORDS are IMPORTANT, and they are needed, but seeing Joel show her with his actions what he wants (after all, he wouldn't let anyone get close to his daughter and develop a connection) while the reader is not able to acknowledge it, is frustrating. Not talking beforehand makes the whole situation way worse. The offer of take of Sarah, I feel like she might not be using her words yet, but she's putting herself out. She's trying to give Joel what he needs and be someone he can rely on, to be a team. The pain of Joel's rejection, coupled with his initial lack of attention, causes everything to explode. When, for once, she has the strength to defend herself and express her feelings, it's one of the worst moments.

I would love to read Joel's thoughts on the whole scene. He has so many fronts at the same time. I'm not excusing him because he could have handled the whole situation better (both of them could have). He also has his struggles and anxieties clouding his perception of the reader's emotions, making it harder for him to open himself and accept help. I hope the situation gets solved soon.

I trust you can pull out something from my ramble and that it wasn't too much, lol.😅 Thanks for the chapter! Despite preferring fluff, I'm a sucker for angst like the one you wrote.♥️

Ahhh im so glad you enjoyed it and got something out of it!!! i definitely think that new relationships are a massive catalyst for self worth issues because its such a vulnerable state to be in and youre so afraid of the other person finding something out about you thats suddenly a dealbreaker and just peacing out.

LMB girl has held soooo much back from joel, thinking shes shielding him from it, and it blows up in her face so bad cause she has this vault of crap thats bound to explode open with one little bad vibe from joel, even though theyre both misplacing their frustration. ive tried to make this fic as realistic as possible, and i think a lot of us have had periods of bottling things up and not being able to expect when the last drop hits

the whole series having such a mental health focus wasnt my intention when i started writing it - my initial idea was for it to be more FWB centered actually, but ive ended up including so much of my own experiences with self worth issues and subsequent healing, and that has made the whole thing more interesting i think

joels thoughts come out in ch 7!!!

so glad youre willing to suffer through my angst, and theres a lot of fluff coming up which is very uncharacteristic for me but we all need to see joel and his crab girl happy - they deserve it hahaha

thanks for sticking around, i love reading your detailed thoughts on the chapters <3 <3 <3

[felidthing]

thinking about what sagespeckle's Good Ending is. she doesnt leave the clans for some reason. i dont remember why i decided that but maybe i was to get to know her riverclan family. it can be that now ig. she stays in the clans, maybe in windcan or maybe she moves to riverclan! idk ive never thought about that somehow. but what im trying to decide rn is whether she has kits of her own.

sagespeckle has lived her whole life with an increasingly tense relationship with her mother, no friends, no even civil relationships outside of her mother that she resents. people fucking hate her. so she's been living very guarded, she became mean and abrasive to beat other cats to the punch. she only starts thinking of herself as a person again when applescar starts talking to her. she's a young adult with no close relationships and no sense of self. i also gave her a crush on applescar/strike because yeah. that girl kind of just swooped in and pointed out that people shouldnt treat her the way they do. applestrike saved her life with that

anyways the gals become friends and the evil leaders get overthrown yadda yadda. applestrike is having her own crisis about societal structures. sagespeckle is just kind of. floating around aimlessly. plenty of windclan is celebrating their evil leader being gone, but he wasnt even the one that refused to apprentice sagespeckle. the real leader that got disappeared did that. windclans like yay! we're free and everythings okay again! and sagespeckle is just like. are you just gonna go back to shoving me around and confining me to camp? and then she meets her brothers and father in riverclan and her whole world shatters a little. but shes always known shes halfclan, so she of course had a father out there Somewhere, but its entirely different standing face to face with him and two more cats who grew up just a border away living their own lives

fuckkkkk this is getting so long. im gonna let it. i dont talk about sagespeckle enough. with the way im talking about this i think it would be really fun for her to move to riverclan. i think im gonna go for it on that one. im not sure what to do about her mother, from the start ive always intended for sagespeckle to be seen as in the "wrong" of how she treated her mother (whose name is weaselbelly by the way), not in a way that meant she was Bad, just wrong. because she was young etc. sagespeckle resented weaselbelly for getting into a halfclan relationship and having a halclan kit that suffered for her existence. its that kind of deal. weaselbelly never did anything wrong to her, she was the nicest cat in the clan to her, she trained sagepaw herself when willowstar refused to acknowledge her. weaselbelly named her sagepaw, not willowstar. sagespeckle chose her own warrior name. maybe weaselbelly should have left windclan with her daughter when they treated her so badly, but i cant really fault her for wanting to stay in a clan when pretty much all clan cats see their way of life as the only way they can live. especially windclan who i write as the most like. conservative

so sagespeckle moves to riverclan. she has siblings now. she knows her siblings mates now. she has friendly connections for the first time ever. right now im thinking that a "good ending" for a cat whos lived her life feeling deeply alone and hated, is for her to get a mate and have kits that she can raise with family members and watch them train as apprentices and live the life/childhood she never had. the other option is to just leave it at having her brothers and making friends and living in a clan that respects her. both are good in their own ways imo. im flip flopping between them rn. right now im on family-and-friends because her personality isnt the most conducive to motherhood. but also.... i gave her a crush......... i gave her a lesbian awakening.. and it could be nice to follow through on it.......