#i only have 2 left to write before i get to write the one that i really really really really am looking forward to

[dwaekkicidal]

Lessons

˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3

OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>

MDNI!! smut below the cut

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

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After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.

And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.

His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”

“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.

“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’

“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.

“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.

“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.

You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds. 

Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.

By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.

“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.

You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.

“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”

“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull. 

The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”

When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.

As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.

“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.

You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.

“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.

You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, you’re eyes get heavy until they inevitably close and you fall asleep too.

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@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

[wonuwrites]

Seventeen's Reaction When You Can't Sleep At Night.

Anyone else having a rough time sleeping lately or is it just me? Past few nights have been rough so I thought of this little thing. Also was inspired to write this based off the song "When You Can't Sleep At Night" by Of Mice And Men. Hope y'all enjoy it.

Warning: mentions death of a loved one, anxiety, nightmares, fluff/angst in some places, minor cussing, fairly sfw but Dino's is a bit suggestive so MDNI, oh also some pet names like: Sweetheart, Baby. Love, Babe, idk the cute names and shit lmfao.

☾ S. Coups:

Your mind was racing and you couldn't help but stare up at the ceiling. You felt a bit guilty because you kept tossing and turning when you were attempting to fall asleep. Seungcheol who was next to you didn't say anything but you made him turn slightly as well while keeping his arm loosely around your waist. He was sound asleep and truth be told you envied him. You wish you could sleep like him. As if he could hear your envious thoughts, you felt his lips on your shoulder before he pulled you closer to him. "Still awake, sweetheart?" You nodded before turning over to look at him. He kissed you and pulled you closer to him. He'd ask you what was on your mind and would do everything in his power to help you sleep. He wouldn't even close his eyes until he knew you were asleep for sure.

☾ Jeonghan:

You made your way into the kitchen to get a cup of water. You were almost 80% convinced that sleep was not going to happen that night because a random bout of anxiety was just eating you alive. What was the anxiety? You had no fucking clue but it just kept nagging at you and you hated it. You just felt so small and you couldn't find your center. You remember a luke warm glass of water used to help one of your friends back in high school so you decided to try it. You only took a sip before tears threatened to fall which made you take a shaky breath. You leaned against the kitchen counter and tried your best not to breakdown but that didn't work to well. Soon you just let it out. You didn't know how long you were there but you felt someone come up behind you and pull you into his embrace. Jeonghan noticed you were taking awhile to come back to bed and decided to look for you. When he found you crying in the kitchen he felt his heart break into a million pieces. He wanted to give you space at first but also felt that you needed someone at that time so he just came and hugged you. You started to cry into his chest harder which he just rocked you until you were done and ready to talk about it. Sleep could wait.

☾ Joshua:

The first few nights after Jisoo left for tour or various schedules were the worst. You had become completely reliant on him and needed to feel his side of the bed had something in it. You had done everything to make it seem that way with adding weighted blankets, books, or even a pet. Nothing worked long term and tonight you felt it. You thought maybe you could gaslight yourself and get some rest that way but no. Nothing was working. Your eyes were tired but the rest of you was not. You decided to scroll on social media and watch fancams of him and hope that would help and it almost did until Jisoo decided to shoot you a text to let you know that he had just got to his hotel. Instinctively, you called him which made him nervous and confused. It was nearly 2:30 am in where you were and you were awake? Before he could even scold you in concern you told him you couldn't sleep. His heart would hurt a bit because he knew that you struggled sleeping when he was not there. He just stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep. Even then he stayed on a little longer just to hear your breathing. "I'll be home soon, (Y/N,)" he would whisper, "I love you, always."

☾ Jun:

You had a huge project coming up at work in the next week and you were struggling to sleep. Jun didn't realize how bad it was until he stayed the night and noticed you were no longer snuggled into his side. He walked around the house while rubbing his eye trying to find you but it was as if you vanished. He almost gave up until he found a light under a closet door and he found it weird. He knocked on the door while whispering your name which made you gasp in shock. Before you could hide the evidence of papers everywhere Jun opened the closet door and looked at you with an emotionless face. You looked down embarrassed which made him sit down on the floor across from you. He would slowly gather the paperwork, and when you tried to protest he would just shake his head. "Baby," he would whisper, "tomorrow is your day off, how about we practice your project tomorrow after a good night rest?" You tried to protest again but he just looked at you with a pleading look. You would then feel guilty before nodding and looking down. This hurt Jun's heart because he didn't want to be a controlling person but truth be told he was worried for you. He leaned over and kissed both your left and right cheeks before helping both of you up. He led you back into the bedroom while whispering sweet nothings to you. Once you got into bed, he left the room to "hide" your project before joining you.

☾ Hoshi:

You shot up in bed screaming after having the most realistic nightmare. This nightmare has haunted you for years but you thought it was over. Especially with you now dating Soonyoung. Soonyoung jolted up as well asking what was wrong while wrapping his arms around you. You starting weeping into his chest which made him scared as hell. He hugged you as you kept saying "no" and tried his best to calm you down. His eyes started water as he realized soon that you were mumbling apologies to your ex who had passed away in the past. He never asked any information about his death but he knew that it hurt you a lot. He knew the best thing he could do was rock you and kiss the top of your head until you calmed down. Once you did, he held you like that until you started to cry again and apologizing to him. You didn't want Soonyoung to think you loved your ex more because it wasn't the truth. He whispered that you didn't need to apologize and reminded you that he was there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. "Baby, you don't have to tell me a thing if it's too much, but I'm here to listen if you are ever ready. I want to help. I love you, okay?" "okay."

☾ Wonwoo:

Your best friend recently passed from a freak accident and it was just eating you alive. Why did they have to go? Why so soon? You didn't even get to say a proper goodbye and that's what killed you. You just missed them so much and your heart hurt from it. Work had be generous and gave you a bereavement period but staying alone in your thoughts somehow made this time worse for you. You didn't admit it to anyone but Wonwoo knew you were struggling really bad. He saw the signs and knew you weren't sleeping well. Which is why Wonwoo was staying over the night of the funeral so he could do everything in his power to help you. Not with words but with actions. He made you tea and put soft music while you sat on the couch in a blanket while scrolling through your friends instagram. His heart hurt for you because he knew what it was like to lose someone. He sat next to you and put an arm around you. You leaned up against him, "I miss them," you whispered. "I know, I'm sorry." He continued to hold you until finally went to sleep.

☾ Woozi:

After a hour of tossing and turning, you realized that sleep was just not an option. You didn't know why it was so hard to sleep but it just was. You sighed as you turned on your phone and noticed Jihoon had just sent you an instagram reel. You couldn't help but smile at his name and watched the reel with a smile across your face. When you reacted to the reel you got a call pretty soon from him which you quickly answered. "You're still up?" He asked before you could even say 'hello.' This made you scoff before saying, "I could say the same thing about you." "Eh, I have an excuse. I'm in the studio." You rolled your eyes before getting an idea. "Can I come by? I can't sleep and wanna be near you. I promise I won't annoy you." He chuckled and hummed a bit. "Sure, wanna spend the night too when we are both finally sleepy?" "Yes please. I'll be there in 10."

☾ DK:

One of your many quirks was panic baking. Whenever you were stressed about something you would bake. It didn't matter if it was brownies, cakes, bread, cupcakes, lemon bars, or whatever. So many of your friends loved this little habit about you but they didn't realize you would do this instead of sleep most nights. However, Seokmin did. He came home after a long day of schedules when he smelt some goodies come from the kitchen. Normally people would be excited to smell goodies but not at 1:30 in the morning. He would sigh and make his way to the kitchen. There he saw you taking out some cupcakes. He waited for you to set the hot plate down before he called out your name. You jumped and looked at him as if you were a deer in headlights. He gave you a concerned look and that's when you broke down and told him you couldn't sleep because you were nervous so you baked because that "was all you were good at." As you continued to breakdown in front of Seokmin, he quickly made his way to you and just rocked you while you fell apart. He whispered sweet nothings and stayed there for awhile before promising to clean up the kitchen so you could take a shower in hopes it would make you sleepy.

☾ Mingyu:

It was one of those nights where sleep was the enemy. You just kept tossing and turning to a point where you were just getting annoyed. You had tried everything from white noise to brewing some sleepy time tea. Nothing worked. It wasn't until you started scrolling through instagram and noticed Mingyu just posted a photodump. You liked it instinctively and automatically got a call from your concerned boyfriend. It was 2am and his royalty was still awake? Unacceptable. When you answered his heart broke when he realized that you were struggling to sleep so he did what any good boyfriend would do and came over to snuggle. Hopefully he could help you sleep.

☾ Minghao:

It was a sleepless night the night before and you promised Minghao to a brunch date. You were exhausted by the time you got there but tried your best to shake it off so he wouldn't worry. However, Minghao knew how to read you like a book so you were not able to fool him one bit. He would just order the food to go and take your cute ass home so you could get some proper rest. He would wait for you to tell him if anything was going on but would just take care of you by brewing you a tea or cuddling you to sleep.

☾ Seungkwan:

Sleeping was never one of your talents. Honestly, you never could get the right amount of sleep. It would either be too much or too little. To say this didn't concern Seungkwan would be a lie. He would often ask how your sleep schedule was and if you mentioned you got less than 3 hours the night before his heart would break. Unlike Minghao, he would ask if anything was bothering you or what was going on but that's just because he wanted to make sure you were okay. If you were going through something, he would try his best to work it out with you. He even would offer a shoulder to sleep on if you got sleepy throughout the day.

☾ Vernon:

To say you tried to sleep was an understatement. You were tossing and turning, counting all the sheep, and even tried to gaslight yourself that you were asleep. However, nothing worked. You still laid wide awake while your precious boyfriend was asleep peaceful next to you. You sighed as you turned one last time and surprisingly that woke Hansol up. He rubbed his eye before flinging an arm around you and pulling you closer. "You okay, babe?" He would ask with his voice all gruffy sounding due to the sleep. "yeah... sorry." He didn't believe you and would roll you over so you were making eye contact, he tried to figure it out telepathically but he couldn't so he kissed your nose instead. The gesture made you scoff before snuggling into him. "I'm fine, just can't sleep very well tonight." He'd hum while playing mindlessly with your hair. "We can put on a movie if you want?" You would smile into his chest before whispering an "ok." It was moments like these when you were thankful he was there.

☾ Dino:

You sighed before sat up to get out of bed. Sleep was just not in the cards and honestly there were other things you could do instead of getting a restless night of sleep. However, you momentarily forgot your adorable boyfriend, Chan, was cuddled up next to you and his grasp tightened as you tried to escape his grasp. Him being stubborn made you giggle which made him smile before he looked up at you. "You can't leave me yet, it's still dark outside." You would sigh before wrapping your arms around him as well in defeat. "Sorry babe, I just can't sleep." "Mmm, why?" "I don't know. I've tried everything." He then opened his eyes a bit and gave you a little smirk, "I mean not everything...." You could feel what he meant and giggled before kissing him and hoping he could *literally* wear you out.

It's finally out. Please lmk your favorite one. Personally I loved writing DK's part. (as usual. It's so easy for me to write for him,) Please lmk what yall liked tho <3

[sleepyangelkami]

Recently got into the walking dead and let me just say i’m obsessed with your carl fics. It’s alarming how many times i’ve read them lmao.

CLINGY c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.4K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - being clingy was the most natural thing in you and carl's relationship after all the trauma you'd both endured. but when things get too much for carl, he shuts you out, leaving you to assume only the worst.

 ☆ WARNINGS - clingy relationship, crying, blood, gore, mentions of death, walkers, mean!carl, yelling, stress, mentions of violence, weapons, (2) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

clingy was a word you had much distaste for.

when the world literally ended, there wasn't much to do aside from survive and hold onto your loved ones. you'd been alone so long, people slowly falling, dying, leaving. before you knew it, it was just you and the group you'd found. well, they'd found you.

more specifically, he'd found you.

the boy with the sheriff's hat, eyeing you with his gun in the air. you made no sudden movements, eyes cast down on the ground as if you didn't care whether or not the bullet would fly from his gun.

it was just you in the house they'd raided. you didn't have a family, nor a group. just you, covered in blood, starved and in a kind of fetal position, knees pressed against your chest as you eyed the pool of blood surrounding you. some of your own, some from the ones before.

when you'd met the group, you had nothing. dead parents, dead siblings, nothing seemed to matter anymore. the world was gone, the people you loved either dead, taking the easy way out or leaving it to the walkers. or perhaps they'd left you, walking out when things got tough, leaving you and the remains of your family behind.

the screams from outside of the house would alert you of their soon fate afterwards.

you opened up, albeit it was slow.

you liked to believe there was an instant connection between you and the boy. he lowered his gun almost instantly, realising you weren't a threat behind the blood and glassy eyes. how he'd known, you weren't sure. he just did.

he rushed towards you, calling downstairs for his father in a panic.

you didn't speak much at first, staring when he'd offered his name. carl grimes. the boy you'd soon learn to love.

and with time, you made a new family. daryl dixon was a good idea for a father, you soon learned, carol sort of alike a mother when she snuck you an extra one of her homemade cookies.

you lost others, more fell. but you and carl never frayed.

rick and michonne would always catch you together, smiling and looking at one another knowingly. it was safe to say that it was no surprise when carl announced you were together. after all, you were practically joined by the hip.

this brings us back to the beginning. the word clingy.

you hated the word as much as you hated the death surrounding you. could anyone truly be clingy in a world like this? is anyone really too much? you liked to believe that there was no such thing as too much anymore. people died, left, separated. any day could be someone's last. you'd prefer to know that you'd spent all the time with them as you could.

if that was clingy, then so be it.

carl was used to this side of you, he catered to it, if anything, he matched it. he was used to the way you laid against him, talking lowly as he went about his tasks.

there was a grey cloud looming over alexandria at a time like this. the survivors were getting more powerful and it was plaguing carl's mind. you did your best to be as gentle as you possibly could, attempting to console the boy but it seemed no matter what you did, he would find himself bubbling over with anger.

"will you pass me the carving knife?" he cut you off mid-speech, ignoring the way your lips instantly shut closed, eyes searching your side of the table.

you weren't hanging from the boy as you usually were, picking at his hands and fingers, playing with them as though they were dough. you weren't snuggling into him while he placed his arm around you. your normal routine simply didn't exist with the past week or so.

but if space was what he needed, you were more than happy to offer that to him. "okay." you mumbled, picking up the knife you thought was the carving knife and passing it to him.

you didn't know much about knives and guns, usually sitting your head on your knees and listening to the boy speak about them. yet, every time he told you what was what and their intent, everything went in one ear and out the other. he'd often admire the way you asked a thousand questions over, one's he'd already answered. he'd only smile, answering them again.

now you realised perhaps you should have been listening.

apparently, you'd passed him the wrong one. you heard what you assumed was a swear pass his lips in a whisper as he placed the knife back to the table roughly. "what's wrong?" you questioned softly, watching him pick up a thinner knife, sanding it down with the block in his hand.

"got the wrong one." but his voice was anything but the gentle carl you knew and loved. this one was sort of mean, a tone of anger behind his words. "how many times have i explained all of them to you? i mean, you still don't know, seriously?"

it seemed as though the dark cloud over alexandria had moved into the room belonging to carl grimes. you found yourself sneaking your knees closer to your chest, just like the day he'd found you. "sorry." you mumbled, glancing away.

confrontation wasn't exactly your forté.

it didn't help that fighting with carl was a rare experience. "maybe if you just listened to me every now and again we wouldn't have this problem."

offence took over your face, brows knitting together. "I do listen to you." but when he talked about things like knives and guns it was sort of hard for you to keep up.

a scoff left his lips. "sure you do." angry carl never failed to show you a different side of the boy you loved.

you stared at him in shock, wondering where the sudden attitude towards you was coming from. you knew he was stressed, understood it even but you'd done nothing to deserve the hatred being thrown your way.

that was when the shaky, "why're you being so mean?" left your lips.

like i said, confrontation wasn't something you practiced often. you were sort of unsure of where to go in this situation.

carl breathed out a ragged breath, practically throwing the tools onto the table. you jumped slightly, staring at him with widened eyes. "maybe you're the one being too clingy." his eyes stared into yours but they didn't look like the ones you'd fallen for so deeply. "just..." breathing through his nose. "just leave me alone for a bit, yeah?"

clearly, he wasn't in the mood for any of this.

and neither were you.

you spoke no words as you quickly scooped up the bag on the ground, making a haste exit towards the door. the sound of a quick sniffle before you shut the door closed was enough for the weighing bricks to fall down on carl.

the sudden severity of the situation dawned on the boy.

he'd made you cry.

and he swore never to be the cause of your tears.

he didn't run after you, though, much too caught up in his own head. the stress of the entire situation of the saviours was weighing on him too. he crashed his elbows onto the table, shoving his head between his hands and groaning. he wondered if he'd ever get anything right.

before he could get too far with the self pity, his bedroom door swung open to reveal his father.

"what was that?" the older man questioned, not giving a clue to what he was talking about. but carl could guess. "y/n just ran out of here crying, you have somethin' to do with that?"

in a moment like this, disappointed dad gazing at him, carl would have done anything to wipe that look off his face. "dad, you don't get it―" about to explain himself, weave out of whatever this was.

"i don't care." was the answer he gave, having better things to be doing than sorting out this teenage relationship himself. "fix it." and finally slamming the door.

rick always taught carl how respect worked, he punished him when he was wrong, rewarded him when he was right. he didn't teach him to act like this.

it was night fall when carl finally found himself walking around the town of alexandria. he was sort of hoping you were out here instead of back at home for he really didn't feel like speaking to daryl at the door and asking were you home. however, he searched every nook and cranny, every place you usually went when you were upset and yet he walked back empty handed, realising you definitely hadn't been outside.

finally, he found himself standing on your doorstep, sucking in a breath before knocking on the white door, the light from above shining down on his face making him squint.

the door opened to reveal carol, thankfully not daryl. carl really couldn't imagine what daryl would have to say to him right about now. he just hoped he was out hunting somewhere or other, at least then he wouldn't get the urge to haul the boy off his front porch.

"y/n?" is all carol questioned, she was dressed in her own hunting attire and carl could only guess that she was on her way out too.

he pressed his lips into a thin line. "she home."

the woman nodded. "upstairs." before swapping places with the boy, making her way outside while inviting him in. "carl." he looked towards her. "don't make me regret leaving you inside."

he only nodded, allowing her to close the door from the outside.

finally, the silence of your house enveloped him.

you, carol and daryl all lived in the same two story house but sometimes it seemed only you lived here. all the decorations were your work, pictures and photo frames, some of before, some of now, everything screamed... you.

it was that cosiness about you that made him fall for you all that time ago.

his boots found the stairs, making his way up and finding your bedroom door, the last door on the right hallway.

your door was white, a brass handle leading him into the room he'd seen a thousand times before.

he'd imagine your room at the other side of the door, pretty pink bedsheets with matching curtains. he'd found the curtains for you on a separate occasion, you'd been over the moon. and the pretty lights that decorated your walls along with the picture frames and the stuffed animal he'd found tucked away in your bloodied back so long ago, now fresh against your bed.

a sort of comfort from the world before.

he knocked, receiving no answer.

"sweetheart? it's carl." again, he was met with the mere silence as his fingertips hung heavy against the door handle. "i'm coming in, okay?" it wasn't a question, more like a warning.

when he did walk in, he was met with a sight he'd seen before.

tears coating the edges of your eyes, sitting criss-cross legged on your bed in your favourite pijamas, pretty stuffed toy between your legs. carl had seen this before, held you through it, comforted you and swore that whoever hurt you would pay. what was he to do now when he was the cause of your sorrow?

"hey, baby." his tone was as gentle as could be, making his way to sit next to you on the bed. "missed you."

you two were so different.

carl had the stubbornness of a mule, when things got tough he found it awfully hard to apologise, not that he ever had to do it much. though, he'd much prefer for everything to disappear in a blink of an eye, forget everything ever happened and go back to the way you two were.

and when you were upset? you shut off.

"i was thinking..." still avoiding the two words that would seemingly make it all okay. "maybe next week we can go someplace? find somewhere to hang out for the weekend, like a night away." his words prodded no reaction from you. "how's that sound, angel?"

a shrug was the only thing he was met with.

your glassy eyes strayed far from his, not even attempting to look him in the eyes. he sighed, unsure of where to go. "look at me, sweet girl." long fingers entrapping your chin and turning it towards him.

there was a pang of guilt as he looked in your glassy red eyes, evidence that you'd been crying earlier that day. and he'd been the cause of it.

finally, the long awaited. "I'm sorry." and carl the stubborn mule grimes didn't just apologise to anyone. "shouldn't have talked to you liked that, c'mere." in a time like this, all you needed was comfort, that was what compelled you to move with his hands, climbing into his lap. the sound of your soft cries soon filled his ears. "i know, i know, 'm so sorry." hand rubbing circles against your back, holding you close.

you didn't mean to cry the way you did, but the weight of the day collapsing on you was enough for you to cling to the boy.

you buried your head in the crook of his neck, wisps of his own hair in front of your face, his hat steady on his head as he held you so gently, as though you were made of glass.

a wobble of your bottom lip as you pulled away from the boy, holding your hands up to your face as if to shield yourself. there was something so scary about him seeing you cry. "i didn't..." your own voice cracking. "i didn't mean to be clingy."

his heart quite literally shattered.

"no, no." his voice sort of high pitched as he pulled your hands from your face. "no, you're not, sweetheart, i promise you're not."

you sniffled at the boy. "but you said―"

carl couldn't dare to hear the rest of such a sentence. "i didn't mean it, baby, i promise." he pulled you back towards his chest, head finding his neck again only this time you didn't cry as hard, mere sniffles leaving your nose. "was bein' an asshole, baby, 'm so sorry."

it'd take a while for you to believe him.

but he'd do whatever it took.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[the-likesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

REC LIST NUMBER 6! The theme is PINING if you couldn’t already tell. I haven’t done a lot of writing recently but I have done A LOT of reading so here are some of the lovely stories I have come across over the last few weeks. As always, please show these authors some love in their comments xx REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend

put my heart inside your palms by @markofalover | T | 3k

An accidental pet name, a thoughtful dinner, and a shared shirt. Buddie are too domestic for my health and well-being! I want what they have!!

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by @neverevan | E | 75k 

During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him AKA the Mudslide Missing!Eddie fic with pining for daaayyyyyyyzzzzzzz

Left Unsaid by C_M2 | M | 33k 

The discovery of a small facebook group full of tsunami survivors rocks station 118. This fic is amazing!! The perfect amount of pining angst, domestic feels and firefam love and goodness 💕💕

If I Should Fall by @elvensorceress | T | 23k

Buck thinks Tommy has died but it's actually Eddie. He is not dead but almost and they have to figure things out from there. This fic had me feeling like my heart has been gutted from my chest and dissected before my very eyes but it has the happy ending we all deserve. 

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies | G | 27k

Eddie is the only one who doesn't realize he and Buck are dating 😭 This is a perfectly sweet and angsty miscommunication fic. 

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by @theleftboobgrabber | E | 49k

The firehouse has a bet and Buck and Eddie work it in their favor. Once again Eddie pining for dayyyyzzzzzzzzzzz. (I’ve been on a Pining!Eddie kick recently). Perfect Buckley Diaz family feels. 

light me and i'll burn for you by @woodchoc-magnum | M | 31k

An old friend of Buck's joins the 118 and he kinda sucks. Eddie pines and falls down a hole (literally). Seriously though the pining and the angst in this fic is just delicious and with a happy ending to boot <3

The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by @elvensorceress | T | 17k

Eddie makes the love confession to end all love confessions while perfecting the balance between pining and not giving a f*ck. I love me a Jenwyn fic and this one is fabulous as always. 

love bites so deep and we've got tiger teeth by @usereddie | M | 10k

Rather than going to texas with his grandparents Christopher goes to stay with Buck for an extended sleepover and Eddie realizes he is incredibly in love with his best friend. Honestly I am OBSESSED!!! This is officially my season 7 ending <3

hearts on fire by @woodchoc-magnum | M | 65k

This is a canon divergence on Season 2 where Buck and Eddie almost get together but then Abby comes back and Eddie lets buck go and then regrets it while trying to be happy for him. The pining, the self-sabotage, honestly is all one big tasty meal and topped off with a happy ending and a side salad of the Shannon and Eddie friends/co-parents arc that they deserved!!

like a dog with a bird at your door by @shitouttabuck | E | 51k

Set post s6, Eddie is injured on a call and Buck moves in to help with his recovery whilst learning to navigate his feelings for his best friend and pining for the position Eddie’s girlfriend holds. honestly, I’m actually only halfway through reading this fic but OMG I’M ASDFFGGHJJKKL and I just already knew this would be making it onto the next rec list so I'm adding it to this one preemptively. 

[saintobio]

Hi saint! God you have no idea how much I wanted to go home after seeing you updated. You’re basically the only one with notifs on bc I cant, CANT, miss an update from my fave fic of all time (fears for my life bc you said it doesnt get better til chapter 14)

Anyway, this is not really a theory, but im curious as to what transpired between mc and toru the morning after their confrontation. Why did gojo leave? Did they fight? Did mc force him to leave to go to akemi to lessen her feelings of guilt?

Anyway, why do i have a feeling that akemi could, COULD, be 🤰? bc if my memory is correct, I recalled one scene where they woohooed with akemi saying she wanted no protection on? And since i do work on a medical field, it is possible for cramps when implantation happens (mc will have the heart attack of her lifetime istg). Although it could also be bc of her condition bc it wasnt really really explicitly stated in one chapter they woohooed without protection on (my memory is foggy bc i never reread chapters where they woohooed. I feel mc’s pain 🥲🥲) but why do i also have a feeling mc could be pregnant too

👁️👄👁️ bc they did have sachiro after woohooing in the first few chapters of SN (theyre both so fertile skdhjssk). Also, I feel like mc’s heart condition is coming back :((( after chapter 10 where she was pounding her heart to stop the pain, I can only imagine her angina waiting in the corner ;((

There’s only a few remaining chapters left (💔) but theres still so much drama and tension left unresolved (Gem still doesnt know they 👉🏽👌🏽) I thank you from the bottom of my heart that you continuously grace us with your writing. There are only a few fics that really made me feel the pain and surely your writing will always be at the top of a godtier list when it comes to giving heavy angst (i can only hope they have a HEA and have a new kid bc i really wanna see satoru redeem himself as a father 🥲🥲) I will surely miss this series when it ends and I will surely reread this when I am feeling the blues and just want to cry. Your brain and hands work wonders and I hope people here would also learn that waiting for the next update is definitely worth it (please stop pressuring her for new updates :(( saint gives her entire heart writing this. The wait is so so worth it).

And before this ends I would like to ask mc and satoru what are their current thoughts are after their 😏 hot steamy confrontation (I WAS SO HAPPY THEY FCKED TBH) no pressure if they wont answer hehe. Thank you for giving us SN and SY, Saint! I will look forward to future fics from you. Sending you much love and I hope and pray that you get all your heart’s desire 💛💛💛💛

hello loveee!! those are really good questions and thank you so much for ur kind words 🥹 i recognize ur blog bc you’ve been a longtime reader of mine, so happy to still see u here <3 anyway, your theories:

1. the morning after, gojo and yn are already having an emotional exchange (kinda) thats why yn was already crying when akemi caught them!

2. what i can only say is akemi’s pelvic pain situation is there for a specific reason :)

3. their families (gen, momjo, etc) will be back soon, it’s total chaos

4. while doing it? they’re definitely going crazy for each other. next morning is all guilt !!

[homestuckreplay]

Violin Concerto in the Key of Meteor Strike: Who Is Rose Lalonde?

Character Deep Dive 2 - 6/2/2009

Homestuck’s narrator formally introduced us to John Egbert right as the comic opened, but our getting to know Rose Lalonde has been slower and more natural. From her earliest conversation with John on p.63, to her becoming a ‘playable character’ of the comic on p.139 when she and John begin playing Sburb, to our switch to following her in person actions on p.214, we already knew a lot about Rose before we had her name and list of interests. She’s just as weird as John but with a spooky gray filter applied, she’s a regular kid who will probably summon a demon, she’s an absolute control freak who’s still kind of a failure at video games, and she is our second Main Character, set up as a contrast to John as well as a friend.

Much like with John, I’ve used Rose’s list of interests to group the information we know about her, and to discuss her relationship with the other characters and with some themes of the comic so far.

Essay below the cut - about 3.6k words.

Quiz here - 13 multiple choice questions.

1. You have a passion for RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE.

If this was the first thing we learned about Rose, I might see her very differently. I’d definitely take her more seriously. But I saw her destroy the plumbing and put the bunny back in the box, so learning this now comes off very differently.

With John’s ‘passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES’, we were given posters to illustrate his taste, and based just on critical reception, ‘really terrible’ is a huge oversimplification. So we know that the narration isn't completely objective, and we know from other clues that Rose's interests in psychoanalysis and games are fairly surface level, which makes it an easy leap to ‘Rose reads a lot of HP Lovecraft and thinks of that as way more obscure than it is because she’s 13 and gets book recommendations from forums’.

There are two posters on the left of Rose’s wall that could be book characters - they look like amateur art of regular, non-tentacled people. I wonder if they were birthday presents from one of her friends, whether it’s John or TG sending her original concept art made by the author of a book she likes, or fanart if one of her friends is a visual artist (GG, perhaps?)

John not only loves movies, but imagines himself in their stories (for example, p.223) and the things that happen to him reflect his movies in response. Without any specific titles, it’s hard to say if the same is true for Rose - but if so, it raises questions of genre. John’s story has been lighthearted action-comedy with darker themes below the surface, light fantasy and countdowns leading to an explosion that’s almost comically absurd even while it has our hearts racing. Rose’s story is already darker both in literal color and in tone. Her inventory system is still terrible but she uses it more pragmatically and she’s far more skillful about skulking around her own house. This, the design of her house, and the sudden flashes of lightning illuminating the sky red or revealing a shadowed figure give her story a survival horror feel. If that’s her taste in literature, it would make sense that she’d imagine herself in that type of story.

2. You enjoy creative writing and are SOMEWHAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT.

Where a normal person might say ‘hey I heard you got the sburb beta’, Rose Lalonde says ‘I understand you have recently come into possession of the beta release of "The Game of the Year", as featured in respectable periodicals such as GameBro Magazine’ (p.63). It’s the first thing we hear from her, so we learn immediately that she likes the sound of her own voice. She’s the only kid in her friend group who uses perfect capitalization and grammar in her messages, and she criticizes game walkthroughs as ‘horrendously written’, suggesting a focus on the technical aspects of writing.

Her creative interest is seen in ‘I think I will write my own walkthrough’ (p.204) where she moves beyond criticism and at least believes she could make something better, and ‘It’s not especially practical. But I think they are elegant’ (p.154) which shows an interest in the style and aesthetics of things. We also get great glimpses of her prose in lines like ‘Its lurid glare has moved on to younger timezones’ (p.174) - I can imagine Rose writing fanciful mood and setting pieces that focus on description over dialog.

In her eccentric verbosity, Rose’s character voice is more similar to the narrator’s than any other character’s is. The narrative text on p.82, for example, feels more comfortable in itself than Rose’s messages do, but it’s not a million miles away. I’ll come back to Rose as a narrator figure in the section on knitting, somehow. 

Rose is not only secretive about her creative writing, she’s secretive in general. On page 164, she tells John not to investigate after she rips out his toilet. She asks him for ‘space’ to fix it and sends him away, and clearly prefers to work unobserved especially when she’s uncertain. She also shuffles her purple package into the closet (p.218) and her writing journals under her bed (p.220) when she feels the narration’s scrutiny. The narrator states ‘You would only resort to such an embarrassing activity while no one was watching’. Rose is clearly ashamed of some of her interests and personality, and hides a lot of herself from observers to make herself seem cooler and more mysterious than she is.

(I have to note that this does not work, at least not where her friends are concerned. Before we hear from Rose directly, we learn about her from TG, who says ‘maybe you can play with TT shes been pestering me all day about it. shes mackin on me so hard all the time i start to feel embarrassed for her’. Definitely not the way she’d want to be introduced to a mass audience).

3. You have a fondness for the BESTIALLY STRANGE AND FICTITIOUS, [...]

The 'bestially strange and fictitious' is what's being referenced in the tentacle of tentacleTherapist, not an innocuous interest in marine life. This is one of her shared interests with John, who apparently liked paranormal lore. It's interesting that these beasts are 'fictitious' according to the narration, but Rose's grimoire is specifically for 'summoning' the zoologically dubious, not just learning about them. This positions Rose as a more active character than John (summoning instead of learning lore) and as someone who has grand designs and fringe beliefs - kind of an Ellie Arroway in Contact figure.

I've talked about Rose and John as scientists based on their chumhandles, versus TG and GG as religious. We now know that Rose lives next door to an impressive sized lab broadcasting from an antenna. Depending on how good their security systems are, she might have explored here, or at least peered through the windows at the strange, unethical science experiments they're surely doing (aka the extremely routine lab work that she's interpreting as mad science). Growing up with scientists as her only neighbors might have inspired this interest and got her started on weird experimentation of her own. As it's unlikely she has formal training beyond middle school, it makes sense she'd be into weird tentacles in jars instead of a more academically accepted field.

I've been wondering how many of Rose's interests are from childhood and how many go further back. The cuddly Cthulhu plush and the very cartoonish monster on her shirt suggest this was a childhood interest, even if the specific monsters she likes have changed over time - some of her more unsettling posters might be recent additions. We don't know enough about her mom's parenting style to guess if she was mostly unsupervised on the internet and able to look at horror from a young age, or if she was held back from something she had an interest in until her mom felt like she was old enough, and how that might have impacted her either way.

4. [...] and sometimes dabble in PSYCHOANALYSIS.

This is the 'therapist' half of Rose's chumhandle, and the easiest interest to guess based on her early appearances. Psychoanalysis, to Rose, appears to be the idea of knowing people better than they know themselves and guessing their underlying motivations and thought processes - therapy through telling people what's going on in their head instead of talking it through with someone. From what we've seen so far, the vibe is 'she's read Freud's Wikipedia page and cares more about putting her basic knowledge into action than reading more theory'.

In Rose's first chatlog on p.63, she accuses John, 'You're wearing one of your disguises now, aren't you? You are typing to me right now while wearing something ridiculous.' She says this right after John mentions going to get the Sburb beta from his dad - 'mom' and 'dad' are activation words to someone with an amateur interest in Freud, and she's immediately putting herself in John's head and making assumptions about his life. (She's right, but probably only because they're already good friends).

On p.160 she tries to pull a similar move, saying 'Is this how your pent-up frustration with your father manifests itself?' and John shuts her down. But in her efforts to analyze other people, she tells on herself more than she wants to - her previous message was 'I am not sensing a lot of regard for the personal property of others' and considering this message comes as she throws John's personal property around his house, leaving his things on the roof and in the backyard, I'm going to call this one projection.

Rose's only direct statement about her mom is on p.174 - 'I'd rather not risk an encounter with my mother. I battled through her cloud of gin and derision once already this evening.' In this same pesterlog she compares her situation to John's, suggesting that she thinks John's situation of 'cake, jesters, unfaltering love and support' isn't really that bad. While she's not wrong, it's a very unproductive thing for a so-called therapist to say, and it shows a lack of self awareness - Rose seems like she would hate being coddled with cake and having a business clown cramping her goth style.

I really think Rose is more of a lab scientist than a therapist, but being able to perfectly understand and predict people is such a helpful skill for someone who is insecure and wants to project an image - if you can understand how someone thinks, you can influence what they think. She definitely wants to control how she's perceived, and likes to have information in general (see: immediately looking up GameFAQs when she couldn't figure out Sburb right away). Psychoanalysis is also used in literary criticism, so it's also possible that she uses this to advance her creative writing, if she's open to any kind of self reflection.

5. You also like to KNIT, [...]

Knitting stands out from Rose's more esoteric and highbrow hobbies. It's not something we've seen her mention, but her sweaters, scarves, socks and hats scattered on her floor look finished, so she has skill and commitment (but lacks a good storage space). I bet she knits while listening to audiobooks. It's a hobby that needs some perfectionism and attention to detail, which seem like traits Rose prizes even if she doesn't possess them (see p.170 where Rose reveals that she placed the Cruxtruder without rotating the room to check if she was in the way of the door).

Rose calls her shot about Sburb's punch card alchemy on p.157, and doesn't confess to reading walkthroughs until p.178. While it's possible she was reading them sooner, it's also possible that she's familiar with punch card knitting, maybe even has a knitting machine somewhere in the house. Knitting is fundamentally the same principle as (punch card) alchemy - taking an abstract image or code laid out on a 2D card, and using it to generate a physical object. The totem lathe and alchemiter could function similarly to a knitting machine, using build grist or cruxite instead of wool, but creating patterns in similar ways.

Following this logic, knitting is a generative hobby, as is creative writing. Rose makes things in a way that John really doesn't (he's clearly never finished coding anything) and has been doing so before playing Sburb. It's interesting to associate her with creation in light of her underlying god complex. Frankenstein is another 'obscure' book Rose has probably read and loved. She is a Dr Frankenstein type of scientist, she is going to knit Fluthlu and bring them to life. The Sburb server player is such a godlike role, and she slides into it so naturally, immediately taking full control and giving orders.

When she's the player character but we haven't seen her yet (p.139-201), she feels like an invisible but omnipresent narrator one layer below the actual narrator, a watchful presence that John can't escape. On p.145 she tries to select John with the Sburb cursor. It doesn't work, but what the hell was she going to do if it did? Drop him outside? I keep coming back to how she seems aware she's being watched by the narrator on p.218 and p.220, in the same way that John knows he's being watched by Rose (but doesn't seem aware of the narrator, despite reacting to their commands). Is it possible, even, that she's (consciously or unconsciously) trying to emulate the narrative voice with her messages in her efforts to take on a similar role?

Her conversation with John on p.204 is fascinating. John tells her there's a meteor heading for his house, and her response is 'I see'. She stays cool and collected and completely unattached throughout the conversation, trying to solve the problem through citing GameFAQs, talking about how much smarter she is than other people, and refusing to compromise on her incessant use of inconveniently elongated words. She fits the stereotype of the Objective Intellectual scientist so well, too concerned with what's possible to care about its fallout, taking notes on John's reactions in her lab notebook while feeling no emotions about the whole thing. It sure is interesting that a video game might be able to cause a meteor strike. Sure would be an intellectual exercise to figure out how to stop that. She is so perfectly above it all.

6. [...] and your room is a BIT OF A MESS.

I never realized John was neat until we had Rose, who definitely isn't. On p.160, she says she's 'tempted' to clean up the mess in John's toilet for him, but everything she does actually makes his bathroom worse. We've actually seen John clean (p.67) and the only out of place things in his room on p.4 are things his dad left there, if we assume that Dad left the hammer and nails for John to hang the painting. All his mess comes from accidental sylladex misuse - he even makes his bed. Rose will simply leave an expensive violin balanced precariously against the wall, drop a pre-punched card on the living room floor instead of placing it on the coffee table, and fail to return John's magic chest to his room even after she's 'got a feel for the controls' (although this last one could be her being silly on purpose). I can't decide if Rose is being an asshole by leaving John's house in a complete state or if she's just Like That and doesn't even notice.

Rose has an inventory system that she knows how to use, so it's easier for someone to be clean if they want to be. Maybe she just doesn't. The rest of Rose's house is empty besides dope ass wizards - on p.230-235 we see that Rose's house is filled with long, expansive corridors, has at least three floors, and is large and modernist with strange towers and extensions and bubbles. If Rose's mom is minimalist and Rose feels like her house is missing something, of course she would expand to fill that space, with her physical possessions as well as her personality.

7. And on occasion, if just the right one strikes your fancy, you like to play VIDEO GAMES with your friends.

John has a poster of the Problem Sleuth heroes on his bedroom wall, as well as a copy of the game, and Rose has a poster of the Problem Sleuth beasts and demons. It would be cute as hell if they played it together. Rose playing a video game has been most of what we've seen of her so far, so I've kind of covered that in other points - I want to talk about the 'with your friends' part, and specifically, how she and John met.

They seem so different, and based on Rose's strong reaction to the intelligence of GameFAQs writers, if she just encountered John on a forum she would not give him the time of day. John definitely isn't stupid, but I think he can come off that way in a first interaction, and I think Rose makes quick judgements about people. John can definitely banter with Rose - my favorite early interaction of theirs is 'TT: Can a disorder also be a complex? EB: in your case, probably!' (p.160) - so all it would take is getting over the initial hurdle of starting a conversation. So I have three theories.

The first is that they did meet on a forum, and John was just so charming in his silliness that Rose eventually warmed on him. Maybe John got stuck on the loading screen of a game and couldn't figure out how to press start and Rose helped him out and John just kept liveblogging his game in the thread. Maybe John asked a question about Slimer from Ghostbusters on a cryptozoology forum and Rose gave him a weirdly anatomically detailed answer that referenced a worrying home use of concentrated sulfuric acid. Maybe Rose posted some of her writing online and John left a glowing comment.

The second is that they met through TG. He seems to have a fair bit in common with both of them - on the surface, more than they do with each other. He could have noticed one of their shared interests and put them in contact, or he could have been trying to fuck with them by setting them up to hate each other and it backfired. Either feels plausible from what we've seen of him so far.

The third is that Rose just used to be different. John has the childlike spirit of the clown and I get the sense that he's always been the same, whimsical on the outside with a malaise hovering within. But Rose is trying to put on such a sophisticated affect, which could be recent. Rose could have been bubbly, accepting and open to talking to anyone a few years ago. She's changed as a person, but stays loyal enough to her friends to brave the evil red storm for them.

Final Thoughts

I find Rose easier to analyze than John - she's not less complex, but her complexities are made more obvious in the text. We also don't get the luxury of sitting with Rose and learning about her organically like we did with John. The meteor countdown is flashing in my mind even when it isn't on screen, and the text needs to take shortcuts, telling us about Rose instead of just showing her. As such, I don't have as many questions hanging as I usually do, but there's still a few.

What's up with both John and Rose being really talented at music, but this not being listed in their interests or directly acknowledged by the narrator? Does the narrator fucking hate music? The narrator of a webcomic which has so far included five original music tracks??

Is Rose consciously aware of the narration? Is it something that just began for her when we saw her, or has that been part of her life before? Is this why her personality is so cultivated, because she feels like she's always being watched?

What exactly is Rose's relationship with her mom? Is her mom a mean alcoholic who mocks Rose's grief over her cat, or is this a story Rose is telling herself about her very average mom?

Is Rose a weird kid who actually has a pretty normal life, like John, or is her life weird for real? Does she live in a massive haunted house or are we getting her exaggerated perspective?

More broadly, what sources of information in Homestuck are reliable? The narration and chatlogs are both biased perspectives, but what about the images? Are we seeing the characters' worlds as they actually are, or are we seeing things as the point of view character perceives them?

I love Rose. She and John have both been really easy to connect to, are extremely likeable, and feel like real people I could run into on the internet. I love how average they seem and how they really have more flaws than strengths - it adds to the realism, and sets them up with a lot of cool options for story arcs. A Rose who's a loser and kind of sucks is so much better to me than a Rose who's actually good at the things she claims to be, and my only hope is that we solve the imminent crisis and see more of her being truly silly.

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw - minors/ageless dni, i will hard block you. narumi x f!reader. they are online dating. gen is so cringe fail loser online boyfriend coded to me and i'm utterly obsessed enamored in love with him. back and forth, mentions of mutual masturbation and sending nudes, suggestive conversation, open ended to write more about them. | divider thanks to cafekitsune, wc 1.7k

Gen’s phone pings with a notification on this desk. His eyes widen despite the fact he is mid digital conflict, tossing fireballs at the final boss of the latest game he’s managed to master and beat in roughly three days, muttering to himself while clicking the direction pad with one hand and sliding his phone haphazardly into his lap with the other. 

A tiny piece of him is hoping that the notification is thanks to new results showing up under his saved search for Captain Narumi though he isn’t angry at what he does see on the screen when he looks down at it for the briefest moment, ignoring his handheld boss battle. 

fallingstarwishes: you are always online at the strangest times…

The little icon of a cartoon version of you, the character you play in the game where the two of you originally became friends, next to the message stirs a little warmth in his face. He presses his lips together to hide a smile and turns back to the fireballs being hurled at the titular hero of the game, dodging them expertly, inevitably going to win this battle just as he wins all of the rest. 

Another ping distracts him, at least momentarily, and the screen in lap lights up. 

“Shit, just give me a minute,” he mutters impatiently toward his phone, red eyes flicking down to see another message from you. 

fallingstarwishes: don’t you ever sleep? it’s so late (early?), silly.

It may be 4 am for him and roughly 2 pm for you but what you don’t know is that an hour ago he was spearing through the technicolor core of a kaiju four times his size that leveled three city blocks with just the sound of its roar using just his bayonet. He can’t leave blanks about who he is and what he does for much longer. As badly as he’s wanted to boldly brag to you about his prowess, he has always known it can make or break the two of you when the truth comes out. 

The right time to mention the whole life threatening and dangerous job thing hasn’t quite come up yet, though. You know he’s in the military although he has never been entirely forthcoming about what that entails and you’ve never asked.

He thinks about how fresh things still are between the two of you. Less than a year of knowing one another, a chance meeting in a large server for a big title slice of life game that came out last year, that has since turned into late nights (for you) messaging, gaming, and eventually voice chatting and giggling together until one of you is forced to go - either to bed or work. 

He fires off a few more fireballs at the boss, dodging the weakly tossed few they return, and the screen goes into the cutscene that effectively declares yet another victory for him. Smiling, he sets the handheld console aside, and curls his fingers around his phone. The screen fills with the conversation between the two of you, messages sent all hours of the day every day, the last one a picture of you laying in bed last night in a suggestive position claiming to be thinking of him. 

His gaze fixates on the photos for a moment, greedily looking at what he was only able to glance at before he left for his mission. He slides down to the chat bar and smirks, seeing your status go from idle to online when you notice he’s typing back to you.

captaincool: Aren’t you at work right now?

You grin from miles away, discreetly looking around the office to make sure nobody can see you using a messaging app that is very obviously not work related during your paid hours. It’s not like you’re in danger of getting caught but there is something particularly delicious about having your own little love affair nobody else has to know about. It’s just the two of you, always, in a world (or worlds, when you consider how many hours the two of you have spent across games) you’ve created to enjoy together.

Tapping out a message, you furrow your brow and jiggle one of your ankles where it’s crossed over the other. 

fallingstarwishes: stop answering my questions with new ones of your own!

Gen smiles down at the screen, thumbs tapping the edges of his phone, anxiously waiting to see what you’ll say next. 

fallingstarwishes: now, what are you doing up? 

fallingstarwishes: bored? 

fallingstarwishes: lonely? 

fallingstarwishes: need me to sing you to sleep?

Chuckling at the singing suggestion, he scrolls back up enough to see that pretty picture you sent him and hisses to himself, his adrenaline finally coming down to a normal enough level he can focus on something else besides the rapid beating of his heart and the thrill of the battle.

captaincool: A song? Just for me? Aren’t you sweet

Raising a brow while firing off his message, he wonders what the two of you actually are. There are times he absolutely considers you his girlfriend or something like it. You’ve discussed crossing the ocean to come and see him more than once though the concept of actually having a girlfriend makes him unexpectedly anxious. Someone to remember birthdays and anniversaries for. Someone who wants you where she wants you when she wants you there. Someone with demands, a comically large pair of scissors to cut his wings and keep him from being himself.

Although you’ve never given him any indication you’d want to do that, it’s something he has to reflect on. His feelings are real but so are the ties that come with them if he were to act on them.

fallingstarwishes: that isn’t even the sweetest i’ve been to you this week. did you forget last wednesday night already?

Damn, you make it hard for him to not act. 

captaincool: How are you going to tell me to sleep and then remind me of that?

Of course he remembers Wednesday evening for you (early in the day on Thursday for him). He remained locked inside of his room for an hour while your soft moans of his name filled his headphones over video chat. Begging him please, telling him how badly you wished it was him instead of your short fingers…he remembers every last moment.

He remembers most of all the sound of his name from your mouth. It’s what sends him over the edge every single time the two of you are able to sneak in a session of mutual masturbation from all these miles and hours away. It also is what he cums to when he’s simply listening back to videos and voice notes or his own imagination.

fallingstarwishes: :) <3 just making sure you remembered who you’re dealing with. you didn’t even react to the picture i sent! 

Gen scrolls back up to glance at the photo, sliding downward in his chair, thighs spreading instinctively. He places his phone down on his desk and slides his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down enough that his half hard cock pops over his underwear. Reaching for his phone, he positions it so that the camera captures just the cut of his Adonis belt and the barely visible crown of him, snapping a picture to send back to you. He holds the phone back from his face and smirks appreciatively at his own artistic ability, happy with the subtle gleam of his arousal beginning to flow and bead on the tip of his dick. 

The photo is fired off with an accompanying cheeky message.

captaincool: Is this confirmation enough that I liked it?

Your eyes widen when the photo comes through, hands shaking slightly. He isn’t the only one who recalls the sound of a name from a pair of lips they wanna feel on every inch of their body in this scenario, now is he?

fallingstarwishes: you should have spoilered that! what if my boss would’ve walked up?

Gen chuckles at your response, pulling down his underwear and letting his now fully erect cock spring free. He’ll handle this and then he’ll be more than ready to pass out although he wishes he could stay up all through the day just to talk to you. He throbs, needy and wanting for a fist that he knows would grip him just right that sadly exists an ocean away and only in his mind. He taps out a message with his free hand, rubbing the thumb of his opposite hand over his slit and moaning low in his throat.

captaincool: Then you would have to explain why you are on your phone during work anyway.

Giggling to yourself, you know he’s right. You spare a few more seconds to glance at the pretty picture on your screen, thinking about your attachment to the man and his penis both, wondering if there will indeed be a day where you are faced with them both in person. Your thumb swipes across the screen, a small gesture that is full of longing while your heart beats in time with your rapid thoughts, and you finally respond.

fallingstarwishes: handle that and then get some sleep. i’ll be around tonight and hope we can spend some time together. sweet dreams gen ♥️

His fist works up and down his shaft and he reads the message with a satisfied half smile, discarding his phone to focus on how good he feels imagining bouncing you up and down on his cock. He’s powerful and strong, more than you could even imagine, and he’d make quick work of you if he were to have his hands on you.

God, he needs his hands on you. He whimpers and shuts his eyes tightly, the slick sound of his motions bouncing off of the clutter and boxes in his room that he’ll eventually get to clearing out. It doesn’t ever take him long when he pictures you, his balls tightening, threatening to spill across his fingers in damn near record time compared to how long he likes to make himself wait when the two of you are doing this together.

But don’t worry, when he finishes, he’ll make sure that you see his pearly release all over his knuckles with a message promising he’ll have sweet dreams because you will be in them.

[wildsupernova]

summer, sun, and a smoking engine.

summary: when your car breaks down on the side of the road in Hawkins, Indiana, you don’t have many options other than try walking and find help. Thankfully, Steve Harrington is here to help.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: strong language, no use of y/n, little bit of mechanic eddie thrown in there (not really a warning but i have nowhere else to put this)

a/n: hello! this fic is a bit self indulgent, i guess you would call it. my love life has been quite terrible pretty much all my life, and i’m the kind of person who can’t help dreaming about a movie cliche type meet cute, so i wanted to write this fic to help quell my insatiable desire for a rom com romance. this is part one of what will probably be a three part series, so i hope you enjoy! :)

if you’d like to make a request, my inbox is always open. i also have my prompts list linked below so you request one of those as well.

part 2 (coming soon) | masterlist | prompts list

Stranded on the side of the road in Hawkins, Indiana was not the way you wanted to start your summer vacation. 

You should be in Indianapolis by now, lounging by the pool at your best friend’s house, raiding her parent’s liquor cabinet and getting drunk off your asses until you can’t remember anything the next morning. Not here, pounding against the steering wheel of your shitty rustbucket of a car wishing you’d actually remembered to do what your dad told you and take it to a mechanic before you made the trip. The horn honked as you slammed your forehead into it, but it was quickly swallowed up by endless fields on either side of you. 

The universe had a sick sense of humor when it came to you in particular, and it seemed the jokes never ended. Some vengeful god or cosmic plan had singled you out as the sole outlet for their aggression; just a girl with a particularly unremarkable life, desperate to escape the world just for a few weeks and forget about her ridiculously non-existent love life and only slightly above average academic career. 

Lately, your life has felt like one big joke. Everyday seemed to be the exact same mind numbing routine; wake up late, rush to make it to your 9 am lecture that left you falling asleep halfway through, eat the same shitty college cafeteria lunch you always did, spend three hours cramming for a test you know you’ll fail anyway, and go to bed at 2 am just to wake up and do it all over again the next day. You watched everyone else around you do something with their lives, whether they were partying all night or getting married. Everyone seemed to be having ten times more fun than you, and you were starting to think that you were just destined for a lonely, less than exceptional life. 

By the time you hit 20 with no long term relationships ever (none that really meant anything, anyway), you’d begun to think it was all futile. Maybe you were destined to be alone forever, maybe you just weren’t looking in the right places, maybe it just wasn’t the right time, but whatever the reason, it had you banging your head against the wall every time your roommate gushed about how sweet and sexually adept her boyfriend was. 

That’s why it really shouldn’t have surprised you that today of all days would be the one where you end up stranded in a town you’d never heard of until you saw the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign a few miles ago.

You’d seen a few cars coming this direction before your car had broken down, so you knew there had to be some sort of civilization not far from here. You’d considered standing by your car and waiting in the hopes that someone would stop to help you, but the sun was already beginning to set and it didn’t really seem like the safest idea to be alone in your car at sundown, especially in some place you didn’t know. That’s what pushed you towards what you were doing now, walking down the long stretch of road and hoping that you’d find someone who could help you not too far down it. 

Somehow, it seemed to feel hotter now that the sun was beginning to set, blistering heat causing sweat to begin forming on your skin almost the minute you stepped out of your car. You’d chosen the wrong day to wear a sundress and sandals, the arches of your feet burning more and more the longer you walked. You swatted at probably thousands of mosquitos that began to swarm you as you walked, and by the time you finally saw the signs of the city, you could feel your hair sticking to your forehead from the thick coating of sweat collecting there. 

The sun was about halfway set by the time you reached the parking lot of the small strip mall, and when you looked at the watch on your wrist it blinked dimly at half past 5. Every store was closed already except for one, a small Family Video store with a single maroon BMW parked outside the door. Finding it the only option you had other than to keep walking, and hoping the AC inside would be working, you pushed your way through the door and hoped someone inside would let you use the phone. And the bathroom. 

“I’m telling you, Robin, I’m hopeless.” Steve struggled to hold the stack of tapes in his hand, almost sending all of them tumbling to the floor when he tripped over a bump in the carpet. 

“You’re not hopeless, you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Maybe stop looking for the type of girl you had in high school? You’ve matured, so start looking for something new.”

“That's the problem, I don’t even know what my type is.” He placed the stack of tapes on the counter, picking up a few that fell over. Robin came to stand next to him, taking the tape off the top of the stack and starting to rewind it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, figure it out. Who knows? Maybe your dream girl will come walking right through that door any minute.”

The universe has one sick sense of comedic timing, doesn’t it?

Steve opened his mouth to offer up a rebuttal but was cut off by the chime of the bell above the door, hinges squeaking at it flung open then shut rather harshly. He turned towards the door and prepared to give his stupid, fake customer service greeting, but was cut short when he saw who it was that had just come through the door. 

He had never seen anyone like you. Hair a mess as if your hands had been running through it for hours, covered in sweat and rocking back and forth on your heels to stop your feet from hurting, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything more beautiful. Wearing a black sundress covered in white daisies and flat brown sandals, you looked like something out of a rom com cliche, damsel in distress stumbling into his life at just the right time. You looked around the store almost frantically and visibly irritated, but the second you laid your eyes on Steve on the other side of the counter you breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had to snap himself out of whatever trance you put him in when you started walking towards him. 

“Hey, do you guys have a phone I can use? My car broke down like a mile from here and I really need to call a mechanic.”

“Uh, yeah, there’s a phone in the back you can use.” A stray strand of hair fell into Steve’s face as he physically shook himself back into reality. “My friend’s a mechanic, I can give you the number to his shop if you want.”

“That would be perfect, thank you.” The relieved laugh you let out made his face heat up a bit, and he quickly grabbed a piece of paper to scribble the number to Eddie’s garage down on. He ripped it off and handed it to you, nodding towards the door reading ‘Employees Only’.

“Phone’s back there, take all the time you need.”

“Thank you so much,” Your eyes flitted down to the name tag on his vest, flashing him a soft grin. “Steve.”

Once you disappeared into the back room, Steve leaned forward against the counter. Robin let out a whistle and hopped up to sit on the counter next to him, kicking her feet back and forth. 

“Man, I was kidding when I said she’d walk through the door any minute, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that starstruck by a girl you just met.”

“She’s probably just…passing through town. Who knows if I’ll ever see her again after this.” Steve popped the tape out of the machine and put another one in, trying to occupy himself with anything other than thinking about you. 

“So? When has that ever stopped you before?”

“I don’t know, Robin. It’ll probably end in disaster just like every other time.”

“I don’t care. If you don’t take your shot with this girl, I might just kill you.”

Almost on cue, the door to the back room swung open again, a visible shift in your demeanor than when you’d walked in. You looked far less tense, and Steve found it hard to keep his eyes off of you. 

“You are truly a life saver. With any luck, I’ll be out of here and back on the road before sundown.” 

“It’s no problem, really.” Steve turned his head away to hide the blush on his cheeks. He gave Robin a look as she silently pushed him to keep the conversation going, eventually holding his hands up in surrender. “My shift’s almost over so I can, uh, give you a ride back to your car, if you want. I’d hate for you to have to walk all the way back in this heat. Plus it's almost dark, I wouldn't want a girl like you wandering around out there alone.”

Steve pressed his lips together tightly when he realized what he’d said, but the smile on your face let him relax. 

“I’d like that, thank you.” You rocked back and forth on your heels while you waited for Steve to gather his things, dress swishing back and forth against your thighs. You laughed a little to yourself while he scrambled frantically, muttering something to himself while he flushed red up to his ears. You flashed him a sweet smile when he finally had all his things, following him out the door and into the beemer you’d seen parked outside when you first arrived. 

Steve was handsome, there was absolutely no denying that. Sunkissed skin that was likely the result of hours of relaxing by the pool, fluffy brown hair you couldn’t help but want to run your hands through and the kindest brown eyes you’d ever seen. You were sure that at one time in his life he was a heartbreaker with all those good looks and boyish charm, but the way he got flustered just talking to you made you believe that he had put those days long past him. 

He seemed almost nervous sitting in the car with you, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road while stealing a few quick glances at you. He adjusted himself in the seat and cleared his throat, trying to break the tension in the air. 

“So, uh, what brings you to Hawkins?”

“Just passing through on my way to visit a friend in Indianapolis.” You smoothed down the skirt of your dress to find something to do with your hands. “Was hoping I’d get there by nightfall but, unfortunate turn of events I suppose.”

“Where are you from?”

“Out of state.” You kept it vague, still not quite sure if you could totally trust him. “I go to school in Indiana though.”

A few seconds later, your car finally came into view, seemingly in much worse shape than you left it. White smoke now billowed from underneath the hood, and you leaned yourself against the dash to try to get a better look from inside the car.

“No, no no no.” As soon as Steve made a U-turn and parked his car behind yours, you opened the door and ran over, running a hand through your hair in a panic. 

“I’m sure it's not…that bad.” Steve tilted his head as he came up next to you, scrunching his face as he looked at the smoke continuing to spill from your engine. “Yeah, I don’t think it's supposed to do that.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You let out a groan before collapsing to the curb, head in your hands. “I should have listened to my dad when he told me to get it checked. Now who knows how long it’ll be before I can get back on the road.”

“Look, Eddie’s good at what he does.” Steve sat down next to you, nudging his shoulder into yours to offer some comfort. “He’ll have her back up and running in no time.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll take a miracle to fix all the problems with this piece of shit.”

Steve’s small chuckle was drowned out by the rumble of an engine, raising your head to see a tow truck traveling down the road towards you and your still smoking car. The red, hand painted detailing stood out against the black body of the truck, and as it got closer, you could hear the rumble of metal music blaring out of the open truck window. The driver, who you had yet to catch a glimpse of, backed the truck until the winch was close to the front of your car, the truck letting out one last puff of smoke through the exhaust as the engine shut off. 

“Always picking up strays, aren’t you Harrington?” The driver called out at Steve as he opened the truck’s door, a soft thud sound following after as he hopped out of the truck. Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’m helping someone whose car broke down.”

“Mhmm. Bet you wouldn’t be helpin’ em if they weren’t so pretty though.” The man that had stepped out of the truck was the last person you’d expect to run a mechanic’s garage. Long, curly black hair down to his shoulders, arms covered in mismatched tattoos, and a cocky smirk on his face while he chewed on a toothpick. He looked to be only a few years older than yourself, and while you could tell that his disposition was likely off putting to most people he met, you found it oddly…comforting. Better a charming metalhead than a greasy bald guy drenched in sweat, you supposed. 

“You gonna get her car down to the garage or what?” Steve put his hands on his hips, earning a laugh from the other man. 

“Lemme assess the damage man. I gotta see what I’m working with.” He walked to the front of the car, playfully shoeing Steve away from it while he popped the hood. As soon as he did, smoke puffed out from around the engine, causing him to cough and wave it out of his face. He let out a whistle, leaning over the car to get a better look at the engine. “Good news, probably just a busted radiator hose. Easy and cheap fix, no biggie. Bad news? I won’t be able to fix it til’ the morning.”

“What?” You stood up from where you sat on the curb, leaning against the car. “I’m supposed to be in Indianapolis tonight. What am I gonna do?”

“Well, I’m sure ole Stevie over here can help you figure something out, can’t you Harrington?” He clasped his hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave him a rather rough shake. Steve sent him a glare before turning back to you, trying to offer up a sympathetic smile.

“There’s a motel a few minutes into town. Nobody ever stays there, so there should be room. I can give you a ride over, if you want.”

You took a second to take in your surroundings. Here you were, stranded on the side of the road in an unfamiliar small town, with a car that had no chance of working until morning and no way to tell your friend you wouldn’t make it to her house tonight. Your only other option was to start hitchhiking, so staying in a dead end motel sounded good right about now. 

“I guess I don’t really have many other options.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, Eddie’ll take good care of her.” Eddie winked at you playfully, bringing a small smile to your face. “And Stevie here will take good care of you.”

“Eddie, come on man.” Steve hid his face in embarrassment while Eddie snickered, clapping him on the back when he went to hook up the winch. You hide the redness in your own cheeks behind your hands.

“Sorry man, couldn’t help it.” Once the winch was hooked up and the front wheels of the car were off the ground, Eddie hopped back into the truck, leaning out the window to call down to you before he left. “I’ll get to work on her first thing in the morning, promise. She’ll be good as new before you know it.” 

He flashed you another smile before starting up the truck again, driving back towards town while you stood there watching your car get dragged along behind him. 

“Sorry about Eddie. He can be…alot, sometimes.” Steve leaned on the hood of his car, crossing his arms over his chest. You shrugged.

“S’okay. He reminds me a lot of a few of my friends back home, actually.” Steve chuckled a bit and nodded towards his car. 

“Well, you’ll be able to handle him better than me then. Come on, I’ll take you over to the motel.” You climbed back into the passenger seat of Steve’s car, sending him a quick thank you before he drove off. 

The sun was almost fully behind the horizon when you finally pulled into the parking lot of the ‘Stop Inn Motel’, a small, two story collection of motel rooms with a main office smack dab in the middle of it. There were only a few other cars in the parking lot, and the flashing neon ‘vacancy’ sign above your head almost made your head hurt in the dimming light. 

The girl behind the counter only looked up from her magazine after you rung the bell, rolling her eyes as she stood from her chair. 

“It’s $10 a night for a single, $15 for a double.”

“Just a single for the night, please.” You went to reach into your wallet for cash but Steve stopped you, handing over his own $10 bill to the desk attendant. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’ve already had a shitty enough day. It’s 10 bucks, no big deal.” Your shoulders relaxed at the soft smile on Steve’s face, kind eyes softening when he saw the way your mood rose a little. The girl behind the counter dangled a set of keys in front of you, which you took quickly.

“Checkout at 2 tomorrow. Stay after check out and it's a $5 fee per hour unless you pay for another night.” You gave her a nod and a thank you, which she ignored before heading back to her chair from before and flipping through her magazine again. 

Steve helped carry your bags from his trunk up to your room, standing outside while he passed you your bags over the threshold. You thanked him one more time before going to close the door, but he cleared his throat nervously to stop you. 

“Hey, uhm, you’re probably starving after everything today and I thought maybe I could…show you the best places to eat around town while you’re here?” The nervous wringing of his hand had your heart swelling in your chest. You were usually the one nervous around guys like Steve, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to turn down his offer. You’d always wanted to take more chances. Why not this one?

“I’d like that.” He raised his head as if he’d expected you to say no, smile curling his lips upwards. “Just give me an hour to get changed. I’m, like, drenched in sweat and dirt right now.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Good. See you then.”

You watched Steve all the way back to his car, closing the door behind you once he got out of your view. You leaned against it for a moment and took a deep breath in, then frantically began opening your luggage to find something to wear. 

Hey, maybe your piece of shit car was good for something after all. 

⊲Part 2, coming soon⊳

[ch1zzie]

Forgot to post this here butttt

Working on a welcome home animation and mighttttt take me a while

[ssruis]

Also partial to the concept of rui and nene playing 4D mind chess with each other where rui is trying to hint that he knows nene likes emu and nene is trying to hint that she knows rui likes tsukasa but they’re both actually morons and completely unaware of what their own feelings are so they just get really confused vs emu outright ambushing tsukasa with “I like nenechan” “thank you for telling me emu I’m so happy you trusted me with this-“ “it’s because I know you like rui-kun teehee 😋” “- I’ll be sure to keep your secre- WHAT”

[jorvikzelda]

its 10:15 pm. i really shouldnt sit down to write a jorvikpov right now. i know they take me like 45 minutes to vomit out. i really should go to bed before 11 pm. i am not even ready for bed. i quite frankly might change into my pyjamas and then write a jorvikpov. i think i will

[northern-passage]

how would we feel about an update that doesn’t have all of the paths available immediately? as in you could see the choice but it wouldn’t be selectable and would be marked as a wip?

[bootyful-seventeen]

hey y'all, anyone have any good stress relief tehniques or habits they'd like to share cuz I've been more stressed in the last 3 weeks then I was in the last 6 months

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

the eternal question: is scheduling w friends as an adult That Hard or am I just bad at it

[silverislander]

prof said congrats for writing up a proposal so early i am going to get a good grade in. well this is literally going to be graded. but yk the meme