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mikodrawnnarratives · 2 months

Text

TW BLOOD

(bit ltr on)

TW REFERENCED CHARACTER DEATH

@naffeclipse

Part 1 | Part 2 | This is Part 3 | Extra

Gonna add some after comic shenanigans because I have thought of a LOT

It'll be linked as Extra

likely will be comprised of memes with maybe some serious

Long post under the cut!

And rambling right after like. a lot. jkfdjklsd

It’S DONE

Well besides the extras and memes I’ll include in another part that. I don’t know when I’ll finish. But stay tuned I’m gonna go ham. I can't wait to share the memes especially loll

Fair warning my rambling here gets a little all over the place so if I repeat myself. Sorry lol.

If I knew how to include a second read more I would

anyway , I think I've made this comic lighter towards the end of this comic (both on purpose with the backgrounds and story lol) but this ending I hope is a combination of bittersweet and hopeful. Y/n gets to have a new family and connection to humanity that I think would be beneficial.

How they’d take finding out Y/n is a VAMPIRE is it’s own can of worms that you can decide for yourself how would go down. Best outcome is that Y/n continues to watch over the generations influenced by Vanessa and her family during their immortality.

Gregory and Cassie still haven’t been introduced in the Naff’s Cryptid Sightings universe by the time I post this, so if/when they are their characterization most likely will be different. And ggy likely won’t be placed in the au. Which is completely understandable! Tho an alternative path following canon fnaf more with 3 star fam, ggy n such is a concept I LOVE in the Cryptid Sightings world! I’ll go into it more ltr

Greg and Cass already have cryptid parents but now they get Uncle Eclipse and Uncle/Aunt/Pibling/Auncle/Etc Y/n. And Y/n gets to have one more purpose in protecting these ppl they will grow to care a lot about that knew Vanessa when Y/n couldn’t connect with her. Lots of sharing stories abt Vanessa occurs.

I’ll joke abt this in the extras & memes part but I think It would be so funny if Y/n can one moment be depressed and then Eclipse mentions Cass & Greg and they’re like “RIGHT I NEED TO PLAN HOW IM GONNA SPOIL THEM FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY” or “I LOST TO GREGORY LAST TIME IT WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN” or “I NEED TO CHECK UP ON THEM AND MAKE SURE THEY’RE ACTUALLY RESTING AFTER THEY FOUGHT THAT CRYPTID”

Eclipse is simultaneously grateful they have a new source of motivation, they haven’t seen you like this in a while, and he doesn’t dislike Gregory or Cassie. BUT since Cassie and Gregory are still Cryptid Hunters, it isn’t IDEAL lmao

On to elaborating on the comic: I love 3 star fam (by extension cassie) and Vanessa had growth offscreen so now her dying wish to y/n is like:

Nessie: hey. Make sure my kids (that aren't kids anymore) don't die ok cool cool

Sure Greg and Cass have Freddy and Roxy but between:

Demonic cryptids that have no experience being a human NOR a cryptid hunter human at that

Friend that might just be there still since if these cryptids could have humanity there's a chance my friend sending me memes that are so in character with their personality is ALSO still human despite being vampire and maybe ness & them could reconcile and Greg and Cass could finally meet the only person ness would have considered family and-

Nessie never would have considered y/n still having their humanity if it weren't for Freddy and by extension Roxy

And btw Ness would not have given her phone to y/n if she wasn't sure that y/n wouldn't hurt Greg and Cass.

She. Didn't expect y/n to go the extra mile and meet them in person. The phone would give y/n their contact information and all the photos of memories they missed out on

Y/n cries when they unlock ness's phone and Nessie still hadn't changed her password

The video she made that y/n sees at the end is when she was first entertaining the idea of y/n possibly still having their humanity, but still wasn’t sure. It was a video that she only ever planned on y/n seeing if she either died and/or she was sure y/n was still human in some regard. She wanted to leave y/n with something in that scenario.

Vanessa here meeting Vanessa in Cryptid Sightings and Lost episode canon would certainly be something. Vanessas from canon Cryptid Sightings would just. Not know how Vanessa got over it and neither does Ness here know

Also, there are some details for this canon divergence au that are completely settled to me and other details I don't have a solid idea for. Like, I'm not SET on how Nessie and Greg would meet, ness and Cass, if it would be at the same time, who would be doing the glitchtrapping. Prob becuz some of those are still unclear in canon canon FNAF and others I'm just indecisive

I'll leave it a little loose, up in the air

Also the possession being done by the same cryptid wouldn’t be possible with Cryptid sighting’s universe rules so. I’m not gonna bother figuring out those details for this comic.

But I do love the idea of Nessie growing closer to Greg and Cass and at least Ness and Greg sharing a bond over dealing with Glitchtrap

Speaking of glitchtrapped GGY in cryptid au-

The wizards FAVORITE now being in same universe as demonic cryptids that would absolutely want to slaughter Glitchtrap for possessing a KID? Making him kill multiple people, including a kid his age? Tasty. Scrumptious. I want to make a separate post just thinking Abt how canon crew for cryptid sightings might react to GGY, especially Cryptid Sun & Moon/Eclipse. I'll save most of that rambling for that potential post since there's so much angst potential.

While im here, I’ll ask. Naff, how would Eclipse react to a child, possessed by a demonic cryptid, having killed other children? Or. Is that a spoiler since these characters could be introduced in a reunion work and whether Cassie gets possessed to mirror canon fnaf is still up in the air? 👀

@/puhpandas can be blamed for my brain rot of the GGY story and dr rabbit stuffs and the potential it could bring.

Tho I don't expect to see GGY in any continuations of cryptid sightings lol I don't know how that would work when cryptid sightings already has laid down rules for possession in that universe and Glitchtrap is already gone. I'll happily see what Gregory and Freddy are like when they (hopefully) appear in future continuations of cryptid sightings

But since this is canon divergence I can indulge in three star fam real quick

To follow canon canon FNAF (or at least the fanon built off of the scrapped security breach canon as well as what stayed in sb), Vanessa would be saved by Gregory and Freddy, I'm undecided if Cassie would join in sooner or later. Nessie would regardless have to stomach being around kids that remind her of her trauma since she can't just fully IGNORE them. Gregory would have no one since I love the angst of the theory he killed his loving family as GGY

So. Nessie would probably know that and it would make the situation hard.

Vanessa would grow a bond with Gregory and Freddy at some point, Gregory has a head start due to. Y'know. Glitchtrap. Hard to not have some sort of connection to the kid that went through what you did too.

Anyway, Vanessa here would be saved by Gregory and Freddy to match up with canon. Or at least, the fanon I subscribe to for security breach since canon was lack luster and scrapped all the good ideas for Vanessa last minute.

Nessie and Gregory would have the shared experience of dealing with Glitchtrap trauma and Cassie gets roped, just like canon, with the whole Mimic situation. Then Nessie has two kids that she can't fully ignore but also can't stomach COMPLETELY being there for. Fun.

But since I adore 3 star fam too much, Vanessa is able to grow attached to Gregory like a big sister eventually (i adore big sis nessie dkljssfkld look at @/boringa55binch 's stuff you'll get ITTT)

When I'd imagine Cassie would be introduced, I bet Nessie would have a harder time with her around since what we've seen of Cassie in canon is only of her getting fooled. I bet Nessie would have a harder time around her for that reason.

But it's not like she COULD leave them completely alone since she's the one with the most cryptid hunting experience. And if these kids are SO INSISTENT about getting into trouble, fine. She owes them after all

I've been undecided if Cassie would be apart of the gang when Nessie is saved so that's up in the air for what ppls like most

Time skip is about 20-30 years ltr I've determined so, Ness did die when she was relatively young. (The circumstances of how she died are a plot device yes i will admit shush it isn’t terribly important sorry jklfdsjksfd)

I'm not the greatest at drawing aged characters so there you have it, Cassie and Gregory are in their late twenties early thirties.

Nessie knows it is a gamble to ask Y/n this favor. But, she's a worried big sis, being around Roxy and Freddy I bet would have softened her heart to the general idea of cryptids not being bad, and y/n doesn't seem to be bad atm. It could be a ghost that'll haunt watch over them, or Nessie's best friend can continue to be long distance buds with Nessie's new family.

And if Y/n was truly gone and all that remained was the vampire tendencies, by this point she has trust Gregory, Cassie, Freddy, and Roxy can keep each other safe. If it was truly a mistake to give y/n her trust.

So, that's why y/n hypes themself up and visits the graveyard when Gregory is there. And it did take a lot out of them but y'know I like the idea of y/n getting close with the gang.

It does make the next cryptid reunion a little weird.

Y/n & Eclipse: YOU DIDN'T MENTION VANESSA WAS A PART OF THE CREW NOW??

Freddy & Roxy: YOU NEVER TOLD US ABOUT VANESSA

Like, imagine both describing Vanessa in previous reunions, and NOW they're finding out it was the same person.

Vampire reveal set aside for later, this is y/n's newest reason to LIVE (mentioned earlier im gonna indulge on details down here)

They can't die yet! They still have memes to send to these kids! Jokes to tell! Series to make them binge with Y/n over a call! This is the gosh darn happiest Eclipse has seen them in decades!!

Flipping between seeing Gregory and Cassie as their nephew and niece and competing with Freddy and Roxy over the title of parent. Regardless of age. (they joke but Y/n never actually competes for the title, they are much too anxious of doing something wrong. Plus, Roxy and Freddy would be pretty tough to beat)

I also think it would be hilarious if Y/n sent out Eclipse with a chancla when Gregory does a Human Hero Complex goof up that painfully reminds y/n of their Human Hero Complex goof ups. He isn't allowed to make the same mistakes without consequence. And y/n WILL stay back in the bushes with goggles to SEE IT HAPPEN. Eclipse ain't worried abt y/n's mental state when they're too invested with their Nephew and Niece.

Gregory: We are adults.

Y/n: Yeah but you're also stupid humans who don't know when to quit.

Eclipse does get a chuckle they're now complaining so much abt human's having these stupid hero/martyr complexes when they were a human not so long ago themself lol

and

didn't mention before but

Y/n and Vanessa compared to Cassie and Gregory parallels that would could be explored.

ANYWAY (get an “anyway” tracker for this post 💀)

Cryptid Sightings doesn't have Cassie or Gregory in their cast of characters yet so (i think I mentioned this earlier but still), this could age. As of writing this, no reunion fic has been published. Might make a note of that if I release this after the fact. But still. Indulge with me in the hyjinks. I haven’t even begun on Freddy being a dad to y/n and possible Roxy dynamic with y/n lolll.

This au of an au of an au still has lots of angst to be explored like. Oh yeah, Gregory was controlled by Glitchtrap too and has a fuck ton of ptsd SINCE HE WAS TWELVE

Fun discussion for later at thanksgiving over zoom. One that Greg is just like: Can we get back to video games pls. now.

The bombshell that will be Y/n revealed to be a Vampire is still up in the air like I said earlier. But, y'know, it might go better this time.

Y/n hopes for that. Hopes. Funny, you haven't smiled this much in a while.

Vanessa's death hurts. Both of them were too young for their fates. It hurt especially when they were saying goodbye for the very last time. Nessie's death was coming and Y/n knew that, but at the same time. Y/n can focus on caring about people Nessie cared about. People Nessie trusted them to care for.

I like the idea of Y/n continuing to watch over and keep in contact with the people Nessie has impacted in some way. Nessie to Gregory and Cassie to whoever they inspire and have become their successors. And they got so much more they are looking forward to now. Knowing humans and sticking around them even digitally has its risks but I think it could be pretty grounding. They have even more dates to look forward to aside from halloween. Which, will be fun to celebrate with Gregory and Cassie fam.

They can't wait to do some more living.

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loveydovey-leviathan · 5 months

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(hi im the one that asked abt teen!reader) thanks for ur answer !! :D i’m 17 myself so i didn’t intend to send in anyth w a younger reader haha ^^

my req was that i wanted to ask for hcs w the cast abt how they’d react to (teen) reader fawning over their crush (from the human world LOL), it’s platonic either way so i’m not sure if adding teen here makes a difference.. 🤔

obey me x gn! teen! reader

a/n: -> written as platonic. had a lot of fun doing this request! i feel like the core difference when adding teen to the mix instead of an implied adult reader is that the bros would definitely be more protective. if mc/reader is an adult who has a crush on some random human, then they wouldn't be as scrutinizing of them.

cw: ooc. brothers only (minus satan). a lot of repeating words and sentences

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑:

He jokes about seeing his little siblings as babies still, but there is definitely an element of truth to them.

When he first finds out about your little crush, he kind of just shrugs it off. It's normal for people to develop little crushes every now and again.

But he starts getting slightly irritated when he hears you fawning. Despite that, he makes sure to listen to you.

If he worries that it might be getting serious, he makes sure to give you a lecture about what you deserve talk to you.

He isn't going to stop you from having a crush but if he thinks they're not good for you, you'll be hearing from him a lot lol.

If they hurt you in some way, they will be facing... certain repercussions.

If you want to visit them, he is not the brother you should ask because he'll most likely say no unless it's a really dire emergency.

Overall, pretty chill considering how overprotective he is as long as he deems them worthy of someone he cares about.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍:

He's freaking out.

Definitely the brother who spoils and makes time to hang out with you the most, so when he hears about your crush, he becomes a goddamn investigator.

Keeps asking questions about what they like, what they do in their free time, how much you like them. Once he's finished with the interrogation, he side-eyes you like you just told him you loved rainbow pizza (he finds that shit disgusting).

He's so annoying about your crush, I'm sorry. Whenever you bring them up in a conversation, he makes sure to complain and roll his eyes.

If you want to visit them, he's your go-to big bro. It does not take a lot of convincing to make him teleport you to a hang-out.

But even if he is a little shit about it, he still makes sure to listen carefully when you talk about them and reminds you that they "better be treatin' you right".

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍:

Him and Asmo are the best to talk to about your crush. They WILL listen no matter what.

As long as you listen about his crushes, he's more than happy to listen about yours.

If you're crush is someone you can hang out with and not like a celebrity crush, he lowkey gets kinda jealous 'cuz all of his crushes are either fictional or really popular, so he doesn't get to do that not like he would have the guts to anyway.

Will not put in the effort to help you in visiting them, but he will buy a bunch of equipment so you can talk to them through facetime and gaming (it comes with a pretty heavy price though).

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒:

He's so happy that you have someone to like in that way <3

Your talks last for literal hours into the night. If you're into make-up, nail art or skin care, he'll definitely help you when the two of you gossip.

He has the juiciest details in his relationships and will tell you almost everything, but he won't push you to do the same.

As much as he likes to have fun, he probably gives the most solid advice and encourages you to go for it the most out of the rest of his brothers.

He won't help you visit the human world though. Too much work.

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁:

Is the most nonchalant about the whole thing.

As long as you give him something to eat, he'll listen to you simp.

Isn't really interested in your crush but he makes note of the important things like how they treat you and what they like just in case he meets them.

If they hurt you, he won't do anything rash because he doesn't want to embarrass you, but he'll push you to try and let go.

If he thinks they're nice, he won't really mention asking them out officially and just reckons you'll do it in your own time.

Doesn't give much input and mostly quietly listens, other than a few nods, hums, burps and growls here and there.

He'll help you visit the human world if you give him the right food. If it's not good enough, he won't do much and deems it too much trouble. Lucifer might put him on dinner duty and force him to not "taste-test" the food.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑:

He is the worst listener of all. He does not care in the slightest.

Any time you rant to him about the person you like, he will fall asleep in 2 minutes flat.

The only time he'll put effort into anything that has to do with your crush is when they make you sad. He's lazy as shit but it's for you so he'll attempt to make your crush's life a very big minor inconvenience for a few days as revenge. He'll also try to convince you to join him btw.

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zarla-s · 1 year

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How do you decide when to use Spamtons little speech quirk and what to have him say? Your writing for him feels so natural!

Spamton’s speech pattern is surprisingly tricky! It has a lot of weird little things to it, haha. I’m glad you think I’m doing a good job though. :D Generally I try to keep in mind a few things for him...

Spamton misspells things a lot, but not always in the same way (with exceptions). He also likes substituting numbers for letters, usually in words that get caught in a spam filter to try to get around it but not always. ( [[Amazed at thi5 amazing transformation?]], NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING AB04T! , SOMEONE LEFT [There] SOULS, [Lyeing Around......] , YOU FILLED YOUR [Inventorium] WITH [Half-Pr1ce Sallamy], AND THE [Number on theB4ck]!, [Unforgettable D3als] , [Pr3mIUm luxjerry w4tch] )

When Spamton takes over the narration or influences it, he still misspells things. (CONGRULATIONS YOU ARE THE 100th VISITOR!!! )

Spamton is bad at tenses and mixes them up a lot. This is one of the most endearing things to me for some reason, haha. ( I'M SO [Proud] OF YOU, I COULD [Killed] YOU! , I HAVE [Becomed] NEO. , MY ESTEEM CUSTOMER, THAT GUY [Steal my look]!! OKAY, MAYBE HE [Steal]ed BACK WHAT I TOOK FROM HIM, WE WILL ALSO [Divorced] )

He messes up pluralization or grammar related to it at times. ( HOTSINGLE, 100 CUSTOMER, AN [Valuable Item])

He actually swears a fair amount but it’s usually censored. ( YOU'RE [$!$!] RIGHT! , DEALS SO GOOD I'LL [$!$$] MYSELF!, [$!?!] THE PRESSES! )

His capitalization in his bracket words/phrases is inconsistent and he spells things wrong in them at times as well. He usually capitalizes the first word though. ( [[A LimiTed Time Only!]] , [[Designed BY The Classics]], [[ Sucbscrube ]] , THEN [[WHY]] GO TO A DUMPSTER!!! , YOU'VE GOT THE [[LIGHT.]] , [ succumb to the worm ], SO HAVE I GOT A DEAL THAT'S [sweet Sunday creme] TO ANY SELF RESPECTING [Ball Nut]! , [fluffey] , [Pracitce]).

His capitalization in general is kind of all over the place. ( LIGHT nER! HEY-HE Y HEY!!!, THat'll be 1997 KROMER., ENL4RGE Yourself, I USED TO be A BIG SHOT. , I WOn'T FORCE YOU. , It's still DARK... SO DARK! )

He gets the verb in sentences wrong at times or has too many/too few words in a phrase. ( HEAR THOSE [Balloons]???, [Cool down with a]!!!, [Wake up and the smell the] MY DEAD CARCASS!!! ) His grammar also gets wonky, especially with the tricky homophones like your/you’re or their/there/they’re. ( YOUR A BIGSHOT!! , WELL LET THIS BE A [Email] , SHOW OFF YOU'RE [Big Shot] )

He sometimes doesn’t finish a sentence at all, or leaves a blank space. ( BUY [KeyGen] FROM ME AT [The Low Low Price Of] , MEANWHILE I CAN [sneak out the back] AND, [Hurry now]!!! [Blink] AND YOU'LL MISS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! , THAT'S WHY THEY'RE COMING TO [kill] ME RIGHT NOW. THEY'RE COMING TO ). Sometimes he just says one or two words or sentence fragments. (MONEY NO, KEYGEN) He likes repeating unfinished sentences as well, usually when he’s worked up about something. ( THE MEN INSIDE WOULD THE MEN INSIDE WOULD , I'LL GET SO. I'LL GET SO. )

He uses periods to emphasize certain parts of a sentence and sometimes he just leaves brackets or carets or other punctuation in his speech. ( YOU'RE LIGHT neR< AREN'T YOU? , GO BACK. AND PUT. THE DISK. BACK. WHERE YOU GOT IT. ).

Sometimes he has spaces in the middle of words or in the wrong places ( DID YOU HAVE AN YMORE?, I'M A SALESMAN , ). Sometimes it’s just a mess in general ( DOESN;T IT?KID? ), and sometimes he likes to combine words ( [HonestMan] , [handsomeGuy] ).

My general approach to this is just to keep any typos I make while doing his dialogue lol.

He drops out of caps usually when he’s scared or thoughtful (not accounting for after his battle), and usually when he’s thinking about Mike.

A fair amount of his substitutions are vaguely threatening or allude to some kind of violence or suffering. He mentions death, dying, and screaming a lot, usually in unexpected contexts ( PRICES SO LOW, EVERYONE I KNOW IS [[Dead]]!!!, VACATIONING IN [Burning acid] , NOW I'M THE [[It Burns! Ow! Stop! Help Me! It Burns!]] GUY! ).

Sometimes these threats are relevant warnings if you know what he’s up to ( TAKE THIS DEAL AND YOU WILL [[Die]]!! IT'S THAT GOOD!!!, [Die Now] AND I'LL THROW IN [50] [Bullets] FOR FREE!, THIS IS [One Purchase] YOU WILL [Regret] FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! ). There’s always a sort of “off” vibe to him that makes him feel a little dangerous.

As an aside, Spamton talks about people beating him up a lot.

He likes turning phrases about refunds into non-refunds, haha ( [No Money Back Guaranttee] ). He’ll sometimes just admit outright he’s trying to scam you ( HOW'S AN INNOCENT GUY LIKE ME SUPPOSED TO [Rip People Off] , [What's yours is mine] AND [What's yours is mine]. ).

He’s extremely excited and shouting almost all the time, so he very rarely has only one exclamation point about anything. Usually it’s three but it can go higher. Just go ham on the exclamation points lol.

[[Hyperlink blocked.]] is a tricky one. He does use it a lot, but the context for it is hard to pin down. Usually it relates to things like souls, what it is that’s controlling him or what it wants, or how exactly he wants to escape it. Other times it’s sort of privileged or secret information that would be caught by a filter and blocked, or it’s some scammy thing or another that’d be blocked for user safety. Usually it’s something that someone wouldn’t want the player to know.

He does use sales pitch, adspeak, or internet slang substitutions a lot, ( [Friend Request Accepted] , [[Anything You See On TV!]], [[Workout-Ready Body]], [Luxurious Basement Apartment] , [[Pass My Savings Onto You!]] ) but not all the time! A lot of his substitutions are single words, usually on an odd tangent to the original word or just unusual in general ( [Deep Abyss] , YOUR [[Ant-sized]] [[Rapidly-shrinking]] LIFE!! , [Wacky Stacks] , [Little Nipper], LIKE MANY [buzzing] AND [burning] CREATORS, GET OUT YOUR CYBER [skin wallets] ).

Sometimes they’re just a normal word in the sentence ( YOU GOT [Guts] KID!! , [Part] OF MY BEAUTIFUL [Heart], LOOK IN MY [Eyes] LOOK IN MY [Nose] LOOK IN MY [Mouth] ).

I tend to think about his substitutions a bit like the Orz, where a substituted word has alternate or deeper meaning than you’d think BECAUSE it was substituted. By [LIGHT], did Spamton literally mean light, or does light have another connotation to it he’s adding that’s not clear? I like thinking of the substitutions adding a potential multiple meaning layers to a word, haha. Maybe he can’t help it, or maybe that particular word is hinting at something more...

He can say full sentences without any substitutions in them, but they’re rare ( WHAT ARE THESE STRINGS!? , YOU'RE LEAVING!? WHAT ABOUT MY DISK!?!? , TOO MANY EXCESS VACATION DAYS?? TAKE A GOD DAMN VACATION STRAIGHT TO HELL, I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING I HAD! MY LIFE ADVICE! , BUT KRIS, IF YOU REFUSE. THAT'S YOUR CHOICE. I CAN'T FORCE YOU.). Interestingly, they often involve him saying he can’t force Kris to do something, something he says over and over and over. He seems very preoccupied with it.

#deltarune #spamton #walls of text #asks and answers #meta #in a sense

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skepsiss · 7 months

Text

Tooth and Nail pt2

Part 2 of this mini-series. I guess I'm writing like 4 mini-series right now. This story is about Eddie being the one to question his sexuality after Steve comes out first. Read the first part to get the full details.

This part is pretty darn sad with a lot of introspection. I put up a mini-poll asking people what they wanted to read the most and Eddie being introspective was winning when I started writing this. I'm likely to write all the options on that poll still, so don't fret. I want to say clearly too that I do not agree with Eddie's thoughts. Sharing your emotions is never selfish and I think the fact that he feels like a burden is something he needs to work through. He is unwell. I'll admit I made myself cry writing this so if you're emotionally fragile like I am (lol) read at your own risk.

TW: Internalized homophobia (he's working through it), self-hatred, brief thoughts on death, mention of war (Vietnam and Korea).

PT1 PT2 PT3

---

"I kissed Steve."

"What?" Gareth said, startled as he stared at Eddie.

Eddie was sitting on a beaten-up old armchair in Jeff’s garage; it was night and they’d opened the garage door to let in the summer air. The whole block was having a party and despite the time of night, the street was still alight with lamps and Christmas lights as people mingled in the street. Eddie had taken refuge in the garage (slightly paranoid that someone was going to touch the band equipment) after the first hour of forcing himself to be social. He had a beer in hand, even though he was underage, but it didn’t seem like any of the adults cared as long as they behaved. Hell, Eddie didn’t even live on this block but he was here enough that the neighbours didn’t seem to mind.

“A week and a half ago,” Eddie answered. He was slouching badly with one leg up on the seat, looking as if he was trying to lounge on a satee instead of a corduroy, La-Z-Boy from the 60s.

“Wait–sorry, what?” Gareth asked again, holding his own beer between his knees as he stared at Eddie. He had come to join him a few moments ago since Eddie had been moping by himself, and then they had proceeded to sit in silence until now.

Eddie flicked his gaze over to the younger boy before taking a long sip of his beer as if to say, yeah, you heard right without the willingness to repeat himself. He was quietly pissed, actually, but was chomping at the bit to talk to someone about it.

“So, are you like…” Gareth started, waving one of his hands as if that would fill in the blank.

“I’m fucking straight,” Eddie muttered, looking away and taking another long drink from his beer.

“Then why–” Gareth wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise and anyone who came to talk to Eddie when he was in a mood like this knew that coming in.

“I don’t fucking know!” Eddie grumbled, crossing his other arm over his chest and slouching all the way down in his seat so only his neck was being supported by the back of the chair.

Gareth frowned at him and looked away, no doubt wondering what he should say to all of that. It gave Eddie a moment to calm down and he eventually sat back up.

“I just…” he muttered, speaking into his drink, “I don’t know; it’d be easy if he was a girl. I just wish he was a girl.”

“Eddie…” Gareth mumbled a bit incredulously as he pinched his brows in. His expression was pitying and Eddie hated that it looked like he felt sorry for him. That was annoying and he scowled before looking away.

Eddie’s logic was sound, it didn’t make sense why Gareth would be questioning it. Things would be easier if Steve was just a girl, that way if he had kissed him it wouldn’t be a big deal. Just an oops, sorry, that was uncool, well, anyways, and then they’d move on. He wouldn’t have to be dealing with this crisis of conscience and saying that he was just joking around wouldn’t have blown up in his face–maybe, he wasn’t sure. If Steve was a girl saying that he was joking actually might have blown up in his face more now that he was thinking about it… probably wasn’t cool to yank a girl’s chain like that.

“We were high and I don’t know, I wanted to talk to him about it being fine that he’s gay or whatever and I wasn’t thinking at all and I just…” Eddie sighed heavily and chugged the remainder of his beer. He twisted the pull-tab off and flicked it across the room, aiming for the bin and missing.

“You always want to kiss people when you’re high?” Gareth asked an edge of humour to his voice. He was teasing lightly, but Eddie didn’t have the patience for that kind of crap right now.

“Fuck no,” Eddie grouched, crossing his arms and resuming his earlier position where one of his legs was up and he was slouched into the corner of the seat. “I wouldn’t kiss your ugly mug for money.”

Gareth snorted lightly and took a swig of his beer, letting the moment simmer.

“So…” he continued, glancing at Eddie before looking away sharply, “he get mad or something?”

Eddie groaned as he covered his eyes with the side of his hand, cupping his forehead as he tipped his head back. Why had he brought this up? He didn’t want to talk about this. It had been eating his insides alive, but he didn’t actually want to talk about it. What was Gareth going to do? Tell him the magic words to make Steve like him again?

“I told him I was joking,” Eddie mumbled, “and that I didn’t mean it–I even apologized, and I don’t fucking apologize to anyone.”

“Tell me about it,” Gareth muttered under his breath and Eddie hucked his empty beer can at his head, forcing Gareth to duck.

“Jesus–” he half laughed, the can knocking against him harmlessly and clattering to the ground, “just saying.”

Eddie flicked him off and motioned to get up. He didn’t need to be here for this, he didn’t want to be around people. This sucked. He could tell that Gareth was trying to be helpful–trying to be a friend–but he didn’t have the patience for it and he didn’t want to have another fight with another friend over something stupid.

Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled over to Gareth before picking up the empty can and chucking it into the garbage. He wasn’t about to leave trash in Jeff’s garage, his parents let them practice there and store their gear most of the time and Eddie wasn’t going to burn this location.

“Say bye to Jeff for me,” Eddie muttered, grouching out of the garage, “and thanks for the food.”

“You going home?” Gareth asked, leaning over the side of his chair to watch Eddie.

“No, this is an illusion,” Eddie mocked, turning and waving his hand in front of his face and giving a manic smile, “the Eddie you know died a long time ago.”

Gareth half laughed, but his brows pinched in at the same time. Eddie didn’t stick around to see if that meant he wanted to say something. He just continued to walk away, turning and hunching his shoulders as he walked past energetic little kids chasing one another and people starting to pack up their dishware. He didn’t feel like unpacking what he had told Gareth or why stating that he had died twisted his guts up into knots. He also didn’t like that he could tell that his upset wasn’t due to the fact that he was lying, but rather that it felt too close to the truth.

Eddie lit a cigarette and started the long walk home. He lost the last of the dusk light halfway through his walk, already two cigarettes down as he got closer to Cherry Street. He wanted to say he ended up there by accident, but that would have been a lie. He walked this way often, actually, and it had been convenient once upon a time. Steve lived on Cherry Street… and Cherry Street backed up onto the forest that connected to the trailer park. A funny coincidence, he had said once to Steve, makes it easier to bother you. That was all too true now though. He was more than a bother.

Eddie stood looming at the end of the street as he stared off towards Steve’s house, the large, stark white structure easy to spot even in the dark. The lawn was lit up by small pot lights and the street lamp across the road shone brightly down onto the sidewalk. Eddie was out of view of any of the windows from his vantage, but he could see the side of the garage and the front of Steve’s house still.

He grumbled miserably and flicked the butt of his cigarette, not bothering to stamp it out before rerouting and taking the long way home. He didn’t want to walk past Steve’s place and risk seeing him, he didn’t know what he’d say if he saw him… he still didn’t really know what had happened. The whole thing felt jumbled in his mind and then crystal clear all at once. He could remember everything so vividly, but it was as if they had been speaking a foreign language to each other: none of it made sense.

Why did he kiss Steve?

Why had that led to Steve getting so angry he nearly got hit?

Why was he such a jackass that seemed to ruin any good thing that happened to him?

It was pitch black by the time Eddie made it home, but he knew the route well enough. The trailer park didn’t have any lights other than the rinky-dink porch lights that some of the homesteads had. It wasn’t that late, but things got dark this far away from town. He came home late like this all the time though, so it wasn’t a surprise when the flyscreen slapped open and Wayne was lounging on the couch. Wayne wasn’t working right now, which was a problem, but they had a small nest egg from the government to live off of for at least a few more weeks. It was amazing how far you could stretch a dollar when you’d been doing it for 20 years.

“That you, Eddie?” Wayne asked, sparing a glance towards the door as a commercial popped onto the screen.

“Yeah…” Eddie mumbled, standing by the front door with his hands in his pockets still. He was looking at the ground, and Eddie wasn’t sure why he felt paralyzed. He didn’t want to move, but he didn’t want to be standing there either… stuck in some kind of limbo.

“You’re home early,” Wayne commented, his tone sounding cautious as if he wasn’t sure if a conversation was going to come out of this, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answered, again, not really sure what he was expecting.

Silence drew out between them as Eddie shifted from foot to foot, just wanting to… be around someone. He wasn’t sure if that was right, but he wanted to be invited in or something. He selfishly wanted to be comforted even though he was the problem.

“What’re you watching?” He mumbled, still not looking at Wayne.

“Mash,” Wayne answered easily, “reruns.”

Eddie nodded and sniffed, feeling like a stranger in his own home. Though he supposed that wasn’t right, this was Wayne’s home, he was a guest. He was a guest that had worn out his invitation by years and years. The deal had been until he graduated, but he still hadn’t done that and it was starting to feel like an impossibility. He didn’t want to be a burden though and he knew that getting a job was the next best thing… but he hadn’t been able to force himself to do that yet either.

Slowly, Eddie shuffled over to the couch and sat down a cushion width away from his uncle, looking up at the TV. The commercials were ending and Eddie felt his throat tighten as he tried to push himself into small talk.

“Is it a good episode?” He asked, having seen most of MASH living here with Wayne. He liked the show, and Eddie could understand why. All the characters questioned why they were at war and the ethics of it all. Made sense for someone like Wayne to get some kind of catharsis from the show after coming home from ‘Nam all those years ago.

“It’s the one where Hawkeye tries to get ribs sent from Chicago to Korea,” Wayne explained, sipping the drink he had in his hand and looking back at the TV.

Eddie snorted slightly, remembering the episode. He toed his shoes off and tucked up onto the couch so he could rest his chin on his knees, the room falling into silence except for the murmur of the TV and the tell-tale M*A*S*H song in the background. It was easy to watch and Eddie stared at the grainy images on the screen as Wayne and him shared the living room. He always liked that he could be quiet with Wayne, but it felt a bit forced on his part tonight.

A commercial broke up the episode and Eddie sighed, not looking at Wayne as he tipped his head to the side before chewing his lip and finally speaking.

“You ever… had a fight with a friend?” Eddie asked quietly, not liking the sound of his own voice right now. It was quiet for a beat before Wayne responded, his tone calm.

“Sure,” he said easily, obviously waiting for Eddie to continue, “you… have a fight with the band?”

“Steve,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head no to Wayne’s assumption as he picked off the black polish on his nails.

“What did you do… to fix it?” Eddie asked, still not looking up.

“Apologized… talked, bought them a beer,” Wayne offered loosely, “depends on what the fight was about.”

Eddie nodded solemnly, not liking that there wasn’t some magic answer to his query. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he didn’t feel like elaborating his problem either. So he just nodded and picked at his nails, waffling for a long time before more words tumbled out of him.

“Do you think… people just… dislike me?” Eddie asked, his lip quivering a bit before he got control of it, swallowing hard to hide his emotions. Wayne didn’t say anything right away which forced a bitter laugh from Eddie’s lungs.

“Like, I’m difficult, I know it, people don’t like difficult but sometimes…” Eddie smiled sadly as he held back his emotions, hiding his face between his knees again, “something even when I’m around people that are… like me, I’m just… different.”

Eddie didn’t like the words that were slipping out of him, why he felt like this was related to what had happened with Steve, or why he was saying it to begin with. He didn’t want to talk about this and he didn’t want to put this on Wayne to think about, that wasn’t fair. Wayne dealt with enough of his bullshit, more than any Uncle should have to, but sometimes Eddie couldn’t help that his uncle felt like the only safe person to talk to.

“It feels like it’s just so easy for me to–” he laughed quietly again, having a harder time holding back the wavering tone of his voice, “--to just–fuck things up with people.”

His body betrayed him and Eddie felt tears slipping down his face and he rushed to push them away so they wouldn’t be seen, still shielded by his knees as he hunched like a gargoyle.

“Eddie–” Wayne started, too much sympathy in his voice.

“Sorry,” Eddie muttered, trying to put levity into his tone, “I know you don’t like it when I drop the f-bomb.”

That was partly true, but Eddie also knew that Wayne didn’t care that much. They swore all the time, he just didn’t like being sworn at.

Wayne went quiet for a moment and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of any lingering tears that might be holed up in there.

“What’s going on, boy?” Wayne asked, his voice incredibly gentle.

Eddie felt his bottom lip bunch up, hating that any time Wayne sounded like that Eddie was doomed to start breaking down. It was like a superpower or something–he didn’t know, but Wayne had made him cry dozens of times when he felt on the verge of tears. He always felt selfish seeking out comfort from his uncle when he had already saddled him with so many problems.

“I hate people–” Eddie blubbered, not sure if that was what he really wanted to say but that felt like the strongest phrasing he could find to describe how he felt. He felt so small and so selfish, reverting back to some kind of scared kid who didn’t know how to deal with his own emotions.

Eddie finally looked up, his face wet and his chest tight, and he crawled across the seat cushioned and collapsed onto his side, pressing his face into Wayne’s thigh. He was so pathetic… he was twenty years old and he was crying into his uncle's lap? Eddie the demon, the freak, the devil, metal head, satanic worshipper – yeah right.

“Sometimes it feels like–people just–I’m just–-I’m made to be hated,” he blubbered, hiding his face and gasping through his words. He felt miserable and like he wasn’t really saying what he meant, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say or even why he was doing this right now. It was like hundreds of emotions were trying to fight their way out of his chest and he couldn’t do anything about it. He hated it.

Wayne touched the top of his head and Eddie felt himself choke.

Wayne’s touch was gentle and Eddie couldn’t help but sob as he started to stroke the back of his head. It was a subdued affection, but one that Eddie knew was genuine. Wayne wasn’t a man of many words, so sometimes a touch was the best he was going to get. There was a reason why Wayne sometimes felt like the only safe person–even if Eddie still felt like he was a burden to his uncle.

“Everything about me just—” Eddie sobbed, gritting his teeth as he just let his thoughts and feelings freefall from him. “Why am–I—I–why do I like everything people can–can just hate–about me? I don’t like anything normal—I’m just–nothing about me is normal.”

Usually, Eddie was the first one to proclaim that he was different and scream it loudly for people to hear. He’d shout and point and own it and draw all the other weirdos towards him. He was the king of all the freaks, but it felt like he was still an island amongst them. He was always somehow different. Like there was this wall he bumped up against far too easily that would crop up out of nowhere. How he’d say or do something and just fuck everything up in one fell swoop.

Why did he keep giving people new reasons to call him a freak?

“I hate being like this–I hate–I hate that I can’t just–be normal for—for five minutes,” he gasped, feeling that swell of self-hatred rising in his chest, “it’s always my fault–it’s–I’m always… so… difficult. I just—I can’t—...I don’t know why–I don’t—I hate it, I hate it so much.”

He was feeling sorry for himself again and that felt unfair. It didn’t feel like this was something he got to be upset about or something that Wayne or anyone else cared about. It felt unfair to complain to a man who had probably watched dozens of friends die right in front of him during the war; to complain to a man who had taken him in when no one else would and had to bear this kind of responsibility when he hadn’t asked for it. To have a snot-nosed-brat sobbing in his lap because people didn’t like him. But Eddie was nothing if not selfish.

“I’m so tired of being different–I don’t… I don’t want it anymore–why does it matter so much to people? I just–I don’t want it anymore–It’s–like—I know, I know people hate me—everyone in this goddamn town–people–pe—everyone hates me. Wayne–” he was heaving now as he rambled, everything just spilling out of him in these waves of emotions as each ugly sound crashed into the next. “It’s not fair—I don’t—I don’t want to be the freak–I don’t what—I don’t want to be a loser–to be a drop out–I don’t want—I don’t want to like men–”

The last of his confessions slipped out and Eddie felt his body tighten; his throat felt like it was being ripped apart and his lungs couldn’t pull in enough breath to satiate him. It hurt so badly. It hurt and he hated it and he didn’t know why he said it.

Eddie felt Wayne’s pets pause briefly before picking back up again. That more than anything made Eddie feel ashamed. It made his jaw shake and his shoulders tighten. How fear and sorrow rattled around inside of him at the consequences of his words. He didn’t know what saying them would do–he didn’t mean them. He knew he didn’t mean them–he couldn’t have meant them. Those words were a death sentence.

“It’ll be alright,” Wayne mumbled, the words not sounding as hollow as Eddie thought they would, “I like you plenty.”

Eddie tucked in at the compliment, feeling weak and small as his sobs quieted a bit. His tears didn’t stop, but his chest heaves changed into fluttering gasps as he slowly regained his composure.

“Freaks run in the Munson blood,” Wayne continued and Eddie blubbered a small laugh shifting to press into Wayne’s hip. He was such a child, but he couldn’t help but soak in the comfort.

It was quiet again for some time as Eddie’s crying turned into hiccups and then sniffles, the TV quietly rambling in the background. It took a long while for Eddie to calm down, but Wayne never stopped stroking his hair. He felt wrung out and hollow now, his emotions dull and his body aching from how hard he had cried. Still, it did feel better than when he walked in here.

“I kissed him…” Eddie said quietly. He felt Wayne shift to look down at him, a question in his movement.

“Steve,” Eddie explained, mumbling, “I kissed Steve the other week.”

“I see,” Wayne answered back, obvious awkwardness in his delivery. He had never been good at talking about stuff like this–anything really–but it was obvious that he was trying. “And he doesn’t like that you’re a guy?”

Eddie shook his head, and closed his eyes, tucking in closer still as he pressed his forehead against Wayne’s stomach.

“Steve likes guys,” Eddie sighed, breathing heavily as he wrangled his emotions.

“Alright…” Wayne replied slowly, obviously puzzling through everything. Eddie frowned and tucked in again, hiding as he felt shame wash over him.

“I kissed him…” he explained, sniffing, “and then I told him it was a joke, that I didn’t mean it…”

“Ah…” Wayne answered, sighing a knowing breath. “Did you mean it?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, taking a long time to answer as he pressed hard into Wayne as if he could disappear this way.

“I don’t know…” Eddie replied, his voice muffled. Wayne stroked his head again and Eddie breathed deeply through his mouth, feeling bad for crying all over Wayne’s lap.

“Alright,” Wayne answered simply, not pushing the subject at all. He was good at listening and Eddie quietly appreciated that Wayne always seemed to have time to listen to him ramble. Slowly, Eddie sat back up, his back to Wayne as he hugged his knees and rallied.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, feeling like he had to apologize for the way he had acted.

Wayne just patted his shoulder and Eddie felt a few tears slip down his cheek as if they had been knocked out of him by his uncle’s kindness. He sniffed hard again before getting off the couch and stumbling into the kitchen to splash water into his face and clean off the snot and tears. Eddie lifted the hem of his shirt to dry his face and then leaned against the kitchen counter, going quiet once more.

“Eddie?” Wayne spoke up and Eddie peered over at him through the cabinet shelf, “try telling your friend the truth.”

Eddie frowned at the suggestion, but he didn’t have it in him to be angry. Still, he didn’t think that was a great idea. What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t even sure if he knew what the truth was. How did he feel? Did he like Steve? That felt stupid and the idea made his stomach turn over. What good would a confession do anyway?

“And what’s that?” Eddie asked a bit flippantly, wiping wet strands of hair out of his face.

“That you’re figuring it out and you want to stay friends,” Wayne offered, looking over at Eddie for a moment before turning to look at the TV again.

Eddie stared at the back of his uncle’s head, not sure what to say to that. Was it that simple? It felt like he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that he didn’t know how he felt about something. That he was unsure and vulnerable and scared—it didn’t feel like things were allowed to be that simple.

He didn’t answer Wayne as the TV flicked from image to image painting the dark little trailer in different colours each time. It felt comforting and Eddie appreciated that his Uncle wasn’t smothering him. He was more grateful that Wayne had just… accepted him. He had accepted him like he always did. He hadn’t said anything when Eddie started to grow his hair out or when he got a tattoo, when he flunked school, and now when he had said… he liked men. It had been a surprise to hear himself say those words and there was still deep-rooted shame attached to all of that, but that felt like something he had to unpack on his own. Still, Wayne’s reaction had been the same as it was for all of Eddie’s past transgressions. He’d quietly support him or sigh with worry, but it never seemed to change anything between them.

Eddie shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and went to the fridge. He pulled out a can of beer and walked it over to his uncle, touching the cold metal to Wayne’s forearm so he’d look up.

“Thanks,” he muttered gruffly, looking at Eddie briefly before redirecting his attention to the TV.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied quietly, wiping his nose and touching his uncle’s shoulder before stepping away, “thanks.”

PT3

#we stan Wayne Munson in this house #Wayne Munson = best uncle #Eddit is dumb cause he spent all of last fic (the week prior to this)#proclaiming that he loved queer ppl cause they were treated like he is #he thinks queer people are cool but now he's like I CAN'T BE QUEER #that's just cause he's scared of what that means and he has to face so many horrors all the time #doesn't like being hated and sometimes the RSD gets to him #the “being straight” thing is like armor that has just been stripped away and he's been shown he can be hurt here too #he'll learn and grow and eventually love his queer-ness #my_writing #steddie #steve and eddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #wayne munson #I'm bored so take pt2 early

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barzysunflower · 8 months

Text

see it with the lights out — mat barzal

SORRY!!! a bit late but it’s out!! I’m also not very proud of this but I wanted to publish it for you and didn’t really see myself write it any better lol I hope you still like it. but this part was just to get ready for the big finale!!!!!!!!!!

word count: 2.3k

masterlist read part 1 & 2 first

debate: are landos eyes blue or green? I definitely think they're green but sometimes appear blue so for the sake of this story they are green lol

THREE — you can see it with the lights out

October 19th

"Because he doesn't fucking love you like I do."

The harder you tried to push those words out of your brain, the more they repeated, reminding you that your best and longest friendship just imploded.

It had been five days since that night and all you had done was sit in your apartment going over and over every single moment you shared with Mat. You hadn't spoken to him since that night and don't know how to face him. After he said those words, you stared at each other in stunned silence until one of Mat's friends came over to talk to him, breaking up your discussion. Not soon after you left the bar, retreating to your apartment to wallow in peace.

Lando was supposed to come to New York a couple days ago to see you, before you both traveled to Texas for his race this weekend, but after what happened with Mat and now your feelings being all messed up, you felt guilty and told him you were sick. You felt guilty for rejecting him, but you needed a few days alone to collect yourself.

Having Mat's sister stay with you didn't make this situation any better, but she had friends in the city and you just pretended you had work to do so you could avoid the topic of her brother. She finally left yesterday and now you were on the elevator up to go see your boyfriend.

"Hi! Finally," Lando greeted you when he opened his hotel room door, pulling you into him immediately. "How are you?"

"Good," you answered, kissing him.

"Yeah? Not sick anymore?" He pulled you into the room, dragging your suitcase in and closing the door.

"No. Had some turbulences on the flight that made me feel nauseous, but all good now." His smile widened and his hands grabbed you by your hips. You immediately figured out what his face was saying and let him push you onto the bed.

"Good," he whispered and slowly leaned over you showing you just how much he missed you these past two weeks. Unfortunately, another brown haired boy was on your mind.

***

"You okay?," Lando asked, pulling you out of your deep thoughts. He ever so slightly brushed his finger against your cheek, gaining your full attention.

"Mhm." A certain pair of green eyes were haunting you and unfortunately they weren't your boyfriends. You pulled the bed sheet up, nodding, pushing the guilt away.

"Maybe not fully recovered then, huh?" He pressed his lips against your forehead. "So, how was New York? We've barely talked since the weekend."

"I know, I'm sorry. Just had a lot of things to do and people to see and obviously didn't feel great." You told him about your time at home, what you did and saw. About the hockey game – but purposefully left out the party after.

Talking to him got easier as time went on and he caught you up on his last few days as well. "Wait, I got something for you." Lando stood up, not caring about walking around the hotel suit naked. He came back with a little jewelry box. "This was a lot harder to find than I thought it would be."

You opened the box to find a dainty charm bracelet, a singular charm hanging from it – a little formula one car. "Aw. I love it. Thank you." You kissed him gently, before he placed the bracelet on your wrist. "And I love you." While those words rolled easily off your tongue, your heart didn't mean them and your stomach turned at the realization.

"Room service?"

November 13th

For Lando's birthday, he had spent a few days in England with his family which you couldn't make due to having to work. But you joined him and his friends for the real celebrations in Mexico.

Except for those few mandatory office days, you hadn't been back in New York since that weekend. You were too scared to bring up any of the emotions you were trying so hard to push away. And it was working great so far. At least until you opened Instagram and saw all of the New York Islanders posts that often included pictures of Mat. You avoided those posts, but every once in a while, you broke down and fell down the stalking rabbit hole. But you told yourself you just missed your friendship.

He still hadn't reached out and neither had you. You were too scared to hear what he had to say that would ruin your friendship and felt like you were cheating on Lando if you let yourself think and feel about the situation too long.

In front of Lando, you pretended everything was fine – that you didn't just lose your best friend. Not that he asked much about him, but you pretended to watch his games and still be in contact with him – but you weren't.

And while you thought you were doing a good job about hiding your feelings, there had been a few tense and awkward moments between the two of you. You had never really fought before, but in the last month your quarrels increased not only in frequency but intensity.

But today of all day, it had to be all about Lando. You started with a morning swim, just the two of you, and then a huge breakfast that you got catered to the villa you were renting. You spent the rest of the day on a boat, celebrating and trying to revive the connection you had with Lando just a couple months ago.

During dinner, your phone reminded you that the Islanders had game that night. The notification however shocked you a bit when you read the full title: 'Barzal doesn't return to ice after brutal hit from Nurse'

Your heart sunk and your first instinct was to excuse yourself and move to a private room to figure out what happened to him. No matter how many times you watched the replay and saw his face in terrible pain – and blood – it didn't make you feel any better seeing him leaning on Lee as he was skating off the ice.

"What happened?" You jumped at Lando's voice as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. It's Mat. He had a game tonight and got injured." He nodded, but you could see the twitch of jealousy flash across his face.

"Is he okay?"

"Not sure, there hasn't been an update yet." Lando sat beside you, wrapping his arm around you to comfort you.

"I'm sure he'll let you know soon."

"Mhm." You nodded as your eyes flooded with tears. He wouldn't, though. Not after you ignored him after that bombshell of a confession.

"What's wrong?," Lando asked immediately when he noticed your demeanor change. He grabbed your face with concern, but you just shook your head not daring to speak. His face changed from concern to a much more serious. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

His hands dropped from your face. "What? No. Why?"

"You've been acting weird since Texas. You didn't let me come take care of you when you were sick and you've been distant ever since."

"No, Lando. We're fine, it was a stupid little fight but it's all good." You weren't very convincing.

"Are you sure? You usually talk about him more, or his hockey, which I haven't seen you watch in a long time. And every time I touch you, I feel like you flinch and I can't shake the feeling it's got to do with him."

"No." That's all you could say. No. Nothing happened between you. You stood up, forcing a smile. This day was about Lando. Whom you loved. Right? "I promise."

You distracted him with a kiss and another assurance that everything was fine. He believed you, but you could tell you were nearing your breaking point. Just not yet.

November 25th

And that that came sooner than you'd hoped. You'd been having a great time in Abu Dhabi, celebrating and partying g with the other girls until you slept in Saturday and you were reminded of one of your favorite days.

In your first year of university, you had caught your then boyfriend making out with another girl at a party. After that, you might have gone a little hard on the alcohol and ended up calling Mat to come pick you up. However, he was in Seattle and you in Vancouver. That didn't stop him from showing up outside the club at 2am. He picked you up from the side of the road – a low point in your life that you thankfully never repeated – and drove you to your apartment. He gently helped you change into pjs and held your hair when you threw up in the toilet. Then he let you cry into his chest until you fell asleep.

You almost called him remembering that moment, but couldn't figure out what to say so you put your phone back down.

'I got you. I always will.'

Mat's voice hit you like a bullet. It was clear as if he was just next to you and you felt his fingertips stroking the side of your face like it was yesterday. But you were still back in your freshman year apartment, cuddled up in bed with Mat. He thought you were asleep when he whispered those things to you and until this day you thought you'd dreamt him saying it.

Something in you broke and all your feelings finally came crashing in. All those years he made you laugh and stood by your side you had mistaken it for friendship. You thought you were in love before, that's why you didn't recognize what you were feeling for Mat, but turns out no one ever made you as happy as Mat did. He'd always been your person and one day just turned into something even more.

You had no idea how long you laid in bed, thinking everything over and finally admitting to yourself that Mat may be more than a friend.

Eventually, you had to get ready. Lando was due to return from the qualifying race anytime soon, which you were actually supposed to attend, and you needed enough time to pull yourself together. You couldn't dump your newfound revelation on him the night before his last race.

"Lando." You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. "I'm sorry."

"I know," he said, nodding, trying to mask his pain. He turned away from you and started packing his bag.

"No, I'll go. I'm so sorry." He shook his head, denying you and you could just stand there and watch him throw his suitcase together.

"Lando," you called, before he reached the hotel door. "You really were so good to me. And I'm so grateful to you. For everything you did to me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He nodded, avoiding your gaze though. "I'm just sorry he got you first."

You took the few steps you needed to reach him. "I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope we can still stay friends."

"Kinda hard to forget you." He let you pull him into a hug and it felt like goodbye. It was hard for you to let him go. He did play a huge role in your life and had shown you so much. He was a genuine friend and you did love him, but enough to stay with him. Lando smiled, pain still in his eyes, and pressed his soft lips on your forehead. "One day."

December 29th

It was almost midnight when your phone rang, the screen lighting up the darkness of your bedroom. You reached for it, sitting up when you saw the name and picture flash across the screen. It was Mat. The first sign of him since that night in October you regretted so much. Carefully, you pressed the green button and held the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi." His voice was rough and from that small word you could tell he was in pain. And after the game he had you couldn't blame him. He was more aggressive than he usually was – even counting the last few weeks – and got punished by it, not only with penalty box minutes but also with brutal fights on the ice. On top of that, they lost the game with a pretty rough score.

The line was silent for a while, neither of you daring to speak. You could feel your eyes tearing up. You missed him so much. And that's when he finally broke the silence with the exact same thought. "I miss you." Still so much pain in his voice. "I miss you. And I'm sorry for what I said that night. You were right. I hope that you are happy. And I do support you, no matter what. Just putting it out there that I miss you while you're out there exploring the world."

And in the darkness of your room, you suddenly could not see any clearer. You heart ached for him. For him to hold you and kiss you for the rest of your life. You wanted him. To explore the world with, yes, but also to do the mundane things with. You still had a lot to figure out about yourself, but one thing you were sure about was him. That you needed him by your side just as much as he needed you. It had always been like this. He was your person. And you wanted him to be that for the rest of your life.

"Mat," you took a deep breath, mustering up all your courage. "Lando and I broke up."

The line went dead.

#siwtlo series #mat barzal #lando norris #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #lando norris fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #new york islanders #hockey x f1 #mathew barzal #McLaren #f1 fics

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sailorgundam308 · 3 months

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Got pretty annoyed yesterday while discussing the game with a friend (don’t worry, we’re still friends lol). But truly, I got annoyed at, once more, seeing how there are wrong assumptions weaved into the community discourse - things based out of someone’s ass, apparently, that got traction and now are repeated by players as if it’s true. But, of course, if anyone stops 2 seconds to actually pay attention to the game, these ideas prove to be just wrong.

This friend, for example, was mentioning how Astarion and Karlach NEVER agree or disagree together in anything. That’s a lie. I’ve (me myself, so I KNOW firsthand) been screen shooting every time there’s an agreement between them and when there isn’t. There are much more agreements than disagreements between Astarion and Karlach. They do come across as having different alignments, but they think alike MUCH more than ‘the internet’ (or even some devs?!) tend to believe. They might justify their rationale in different ways but they do agree together and disagree together way more than they disagree with each other. So that is something I personally can attest to.

Then I heard the argument that Karlach and Astarion don’t get unique scenes between each other: again, untrue. The tiefling party scene with Karlach, for starters, is the only unique romance scene for Astarion. The only person who has back and forth with Karlach after the paladins of Tyr are defeated is Astarion. They have (out of the top of my head, at least 4 unique short banters while both are in the party - again, more than Karl with any other companion.

Then the wrong assumption Astarion can’t go to Avernus : he can and he goes, both as ascended and spawn if you’re playing origin Karl. Ascended if you’re playing him.

A lot stems, again, from simplistic and shallow interpretations of both these characters’ story arcs and personalities. Others come from prejudice, from passing judgement on their appearance instead of their “content”.

Moreover, though, there will never be as much this x that content if it’s involving Karlach (and worse for Wyll) SIMPLY BECAUSE there is LESS than A THIRD the amount of content for Karlach in ANYTHING.

For some reason writers/devs took a long while to decide to put the work into Karlach and when they did they clearly made a bet that blew in their faces - that she’d be a lesser origin character and that’d turn out alright. But she’s the second most popular character and because people like her, they are paying attention to her story - and the massive lack of work and resources dedicated to her arc. Imagine if she had received the attention in detail and the game time / in game content, say, shadowheart received? Instead of a temple Shar, we went to Avernus? In place of Shar, ZARIEL made a personal appearance? We could’ve gotten a young Karlach flashback cinematic, an extra dungeon in act 3, then a personal quest closure with Gortash instead of SH’s parents, so we’d know what the fuck happened. As someone who can’t give two shits about SH, that would’ve been incredible to play. Half of that would still have been a blast. But we get nowhere near. And I’m only bringing Karlach to attention here as an example - if you look at Wyll (who was the front page origin boy since the conception of the game), the disparity is even more shocking.

I’ve read on a writer’s twitter a while back (can’t remember who exactly so you’ll have to excuse me), that they were the writers for Durge, and for a time they got to write some stuff for Astarion for a bit, due to some task delegation changes and whatnot, and they explicitly said they “managed to put in things specific to their “main” character (durge) in Astarion’s writing” - or something in those lines. Honestly… what the fuck? Not sure if that was the intention, but to me it sounded like someone with their own precious OC, which they are obviously attached to, pushing content in to benefit their “main”. In a game where there are several “mains” and many with glaringly less content than others. Again, in my interpretation of what I read that day, this information came across as the most unprofessional shit I’ve seen - if you are tasked to write someone else’s character, you should act as that character’s writer - not a fanfic writer trying to push a personal headcanon or narrative because it pleases YOU, in detriment of other characters. It was wild at the time and I just kinda… walked away and pretended I didn’t read it. It was just shocking and not the attitude I expected from a serious professional.

Whether that’s the whole truth or not I can’t say, but what I can say is that this left me with a weird taste in my mouth and perhaps that’s why until today I couldn’t finish a single run with Durge despite trying several. There are other issues with Durge for me personally in term of the actual writing of the sentences and the way they were worded that just seems impossible to take seriously. (But I’m trying to get over it still, as I want to experience this part of the game too, so I won’t give any sort of personal final veredict).

Also, the idea that Durge was supposed to be the main character… that’s a new assumption for me and my friend also brought it up. That sounded very sus and I went to read more about it and, of course, that’s also wrong. In previous BG games, we always played a Bhaalspawn. It would make perfect sense we played one again - but the butler shit, the amnesia, the gore erotic fantasies, that wouldn’t fly for the average BG3 player - and wasn’t supposed to. When they decided to split tav to leave the “absolutely neutral protagonist” they parted with the bhaalspawn narrative that was a very big part of the previous games, so I assume they didn’t want to just toss it, but put it to another “dark tav” or whatever shit that means. And then they doubled down with the evil and edge lord of kitschy horror narrative. It’s FINE. But isn’t supposed to be the main character.

TLDR: instead of taking random assumptions about bg3 as yours, pay attention to the game itself. And think critically about it a bit. All the origins are presented AS equals but they’re nothing but. And Larian should be (yes, troubleshooting tech issues but also) trying to even out the absurd gaps they allowed to happen in integrating the narrative of, especially, Karlach and Wyll into the game. Make more and decent content for them, fix the plot holes, rewrite the shit that doesn’t make sense for them FIRST.

Tbh, I wouldn’t be complaining if Larian had owned it to their content and presented us with Karlach and Wyll as sort of Halsin or Minthara type of companion - non origin, lesser tier of companion. Then the production choices they made would be at the very least justified. And I won’t EVEN start on the fact that these two, Karl and Wyll, are the two PoC origins… the black guy and the southeast Asian woman. Because, oh, boy, things start to look VERY bad when you put THAT into this equation… 👀

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dragon-in-a-fez · 27 days

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Hi. I read a recent ask from someone else, where you say that you are now divorcing your partner, so this may be a little awkward but; I have seen your post about your (ex-)partner several times now, and I wanted to ask. I am AFAB non-binary. Funnily enough, I’m also pan. But I have recently started to think- albeit in the vaguest of senses- about dating, and I realised that I almost certainly will struggle to find cis guys who will date me and be chill with my gender. So, I was wondering if you had any insights? Feel free to ignore this!

I hope you're cool with me answering this publicly, because it's giving me the kick I needed to say some things I want out there for anyone who sees that post and finds my blog.

it's getting easier to talk about. the truth is, my ex treated me very badly in the last couple of years we were together, worse than I was willing to admit to myself before a lot of therapy and a lot of kindness and patience from friends. there was a lot of gaslighting and intense emotional volatility along with financial and legal abuse. I have lingering post-traumatic symptoms from it - frequent nightmares, panic attacks, even a massive months-long gap in my memory.

but none of that really has anything to do with your question, because the fact is, respecting their identity has fuck all to do with our relationship, or their character, or their actions.

I actually had a big fight with my mother recently because she was upset that I don't talk to her about all this enough, and eventually I was like, "after 7 years you still can't even get their pronouns right, how am I supposed to go to you for support about how that relationship fucked up my life when I have to stop to defend them from your ignorance every five minutes?" she seemed surprised that I still cared about being respectful and I was just like, yeah and that's why you and I have spent 30 years not understanding each other lol

and I think that's kinda the best advice I can give you: don't trust anyone who only cares about respecting the truth of who you are when they're happy with you. they should care when you've fucked up and hurt them. they should care when you're yelling at each other because they're being a selfish dickhead. they should care when you break up, or when they ask you out and you say no.

that doesn't mean they always have to get it right. people slip up on pronouns because of how they're used to talking, or they repeat dumbass stereotypes or ask inappropriate questions because they don't know better yet. but don't waste your time with anyone whose level of respect for your gender is based on their attitude to you in that moment. you deserve better than that. someone who only gets your pronouns wrong when they're angry is a way bigger red flag than someone who just occasionally gets them wrong at random times.

and yeah, you might struggle to find people who meet that threshold, depressingly low though it is. but the good news is, once you do find those people you're automatically in a better starting place than a lot of relationships. and knowing you've found the right person is way more important than how long it takes.

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chokchokk · 10 months

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𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 | choi san x fem!reader

PART TWO of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser

"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: He usually doesn’t drink this much. No, maybe he does, but it definitely shouldn’t make San act like this.

It must be a trap, you think, but you’ve already fallen for him, so there’s nothing you can do except not getting your heart broken.

"As if you could care."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: smut, angst, fluff (if you squint)

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 7.1k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): alcohol, san is drunk, reader doesn't fuck drunk people, lack of communication, non-penetrative sex, fingering, squirting, aftercare, showering, sleeping together (in a bed)

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: prologue + main part, finished

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: please know that i wrote this before ateez drank in their video so any sign of projection is like just ... bad luck LMAO but uhhhhhh yeah here's the start of the A N G S T of it all so enjoy lol !!! <33

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲

unknown number: sannie i think i left my phone at your place

unknown number: oh wait

unknown number: yeah i’m an idiot

unknown number: how do i delete this message

unknown number: btw is my name still “unknown number”

unknown number: because you should really change that

“That’s our thing,” he laughs, “she’s smart and all, but every time we hook-up, it’s like, I’m seriously fucking her stupid.“

His roommate snickers and looks at the contact name.

“So, uh, what are you two?”

“Hm?”

“You guys have good chemistry! Or are you going to keep up with the whole “sex-buddies” schtick? She seems cool, why not give her a chance?“

“Nah.. You know I can’t get myself involved in that again, Seonghwa. My last relationship.. I get goosebumps just thinking about it, really. I think she wouldn’t even want that, too. It’s all just jokes and fun between us.”

“Really?“

He turns off his phone.

“Okay, only sometimes, I guess.” He smirks. “But I really like that about her, actually. She doesn’t do it as much now, but, uhm.. she compliments me a lot?”

“San, you’re so fucked up.”

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.

“Hey, it’s me! Open the door~!", his voice rings and San should be very happy you’re still awake at 3 AM on a Sunday. “Let me in!”, he repeats and it’s not a loud, aggressive shout, but urgent enough to snap you out of your mindlessly scrolling-cycle on your phone and make you question whether you’ve heard correctly or are imagining things.

It’s a very bold move, really, thinking that your home is free for him to come at any given time, and if it wasn’t for the unnecessarily sweet drunken “pretty please?” that follows right after his demand, you would have gladly let him walk all the way to his own residency, but you’re weak, weak for him, so even though you do hesitate, the door is opened with almost no significant time having passed.

“Well, good morning,” you chuckle and watch the man lean against the frame with his head, his legs unable to hold the weight of his upper body. He’s wearing his usual fit of a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, but his blushed cheeks, the smell of sweet tangy fruits and other sour substances tells you more about his evening than you need to ask for. It’s also not helping that his lips look swollen, smudged with red lipstick that he definitely tried to get rid of with a lot of rubbing on the way here — San's had a long night and he's waiting for it to get longer.

“I can’t drive like this,” San explains and his eyes are barely opening while he tries to keep a serious tone as he speaks in short-cut sentences, “and you were nearby... so now I’m here.”

“Did I ask? Get in here, Sannie.”

You grab his arm, or at least try to get your hand around his thick bicep and drag him inside, the door closing with a thump. “Thank you~,” San giggles and it takes a lot to not make him stumble completely onto you, you managing to put him down on your couch with your whole body-power, his face immediately plunging into one of the pillows.

“Where’s your jacket?”, you ask, as you stare holes into his muscular back and broad shoulders.

“Didn’t wear one,” he lisps through the fabric and his voice is raspy.

“Dumbass."

Trying to help him, you decide you’re going to get him a cup of water, but before you can let loose of him and disappear into the kitchen, San grabs you by your hand, immediately crossing his fingers into yours.

“No, stay,” San begs with a soft-spoken voice, face still planted into the couch, and he doesn’t know what those words are doing to you. Yeah, you guys have been having one or two one-night-stands too many with the unspoken promise to plead no hard feelings, but it’s him. Catching feelings for San hasn’t been something you’ve deliberately made the attempt to avoid.

But maybe you would have, if you’d known how painful it was going to be.

“Your hands are so soft,” he daydreams, a melody accompanying his rambling, “so soft and warm, like- like everything about you. I was actually just thinking about that on the way here! I don’t know if you noticed, but I really like holding your hands. They fit so perfectly around everything, and really everything— it’s amazing, really, really… amazing.”

“Funny of you to say that,” you comment on his drunk sweet-talk with a tired— but still entertained— sigh and stand there, dumbfounded, his hand sweating into yours. Is this the same guy that told you that he was uneasy when someone (namely his girlfriend) held his hand?

“Why funny? It’s my truth! Your hands are one of your best assets, second to.. your lips, maybe?”

“How shameless!”

Of course he’s absolutely boozed right now, but it’s been well-established to you that San only wears his silly loveable himbo-mask only when he’s subconsciously benefitting from it. Once you two had met up enough to have gotten comfortable with each other, San’s “nerdy” personality had magically disappeared, leaving you with one confident, prude-ishly sex-seeking macho. The “Sannie” you were looking for has somehow vanished into small moments and yes, it’s not like you haven’t been the one trying to crack through his shy façade for your own enjoyment in the first place, but you do miss watching the cheeky guy push up his glasses during your studies, glancing over at you from time to time, blushing, when he catches you staring back.

“Shame finds no place between us, does it~?”

Yet, exam season is over, has been over for a longer time now, which only makes it more evident that San is trying to find excuses to come over for reasons that go below bonding emotionally by miles. Sure, the hook-ups have been fun, exhilaratingly so. He’s all yours, San says repeatedly, but once you’d realised that he was still casually seeing other people, and it was just a saying, but worse, had felt an aching sting inside your breast when you had done so, yeah, fuck, that has been the moment you’ve known that having sex with this man isn’t enough: You have fallen in love (or something similar) with San and a serious relationship is the seal to quench your thirst for his affection.

“I guess we’ve got rid of shame a long time ago, huh,” you answer non-chalantly.

His hands are soft too. His lips are like one addictive book you can’t help but stick your face into, breathe in the words they say, inhale the soothing scent and make it your perfume — you’re smitten for him. You can’t begin to fathom the dread you feel when something inside you ever-so enchantingly tickles when San giggles, acknowledging your ways: "That's who we are!"

He knows that it's not who you "are" as he sits there on your couch, fingers interlocking, it’s… well, who you had been.

Two people who didn't have to think before they said anything, be free with their thoughts in order to relieve them from the stress that came from maintaining concentration and quality. Have you been with him enough to say you miss the older San? The sweet, sometimes silly Sannie?

"You’re my stupid whore, don't you forget!”

No, time alone can’t tell that. But even the sweetest strawberries mold when they're not eaten and waiting is a tiring process.

“Yeah.”

For the short time you've known and yearned for San, he’s been in multiple committed relationships, which is one of the reasons why it has taken you two so long to finally fuck, and it hasn’t really bothered you while you hadn’t, since you couldn’t know what you were missing out on.

But now— though you’ve never seen him be with his girlfriends— you have gathered enough information to know that San’s got it in him. He doesn’t like talking about his endeavours and you could only get a little bit of small-talk with Seonghwa about it, yet from what you know now, your college “love”-experiences don’t come even one inch close to the romances he’s been in; you can’t help but find yourself fantasising about his sweet ways of loving.

You have had enough of half-assery, enough of hangovers, and the thing is, you desperately don’t want San to be your next failed situationship. Knowing that he is single, that right now, he is able to be taken— taken by you— but him still not being yours; it makes you question things you haven’t stopped to question about yourself when being with other people. Like, what do you have to do, what do you have to be in order for San to not visit some dumb party in the first place? He hasn’t visited as many parties when you were just “study-buddies”, why is he visiting them now?

It— whatever “it” is— has developed into something like a challenge, making San want you and only you. Turns out though, that stuff is more difficult than anything you've been doing for college. At least when you had to study, San wasn’t going around having fucking other women.

“Were you gonna leave me?”

Yes, of course you feel pathetic thinking about it like this; you know it’s all an error in communication in regards to your “friends with benefits”-lifestyle you and San are carrying out, but if it has gotten you two together the first time around, the manifestation must work the second time: That’s the only trust you have and it’s enough to keep you going and engage in San's unannounced rendezvous.

"No, you sound like you needed water, that’s all.”

For a while, San just breathes heavily into the pillow and you caress his finger. It does remind you a little bit of the movie-nights you've had with him in the past, when you tried to make your hands touch inside the popcorn like some lovesick child. Maybe it has never been about the sex.

His finger twitches as if he's already gone to slumber, but when you scuffle to get him a blanket at least, San yanks you back down.

“No! Noo, I need you, nothing else! Stay here, please,” he thrums, lurking from the pillow to wink at you, though before you can react to this sentence, San mutters, "I'm not going to fall asleep. I'm not tired, I'm just exhausted." That's the same thing, Sannie.

“Where were you, anyways?”, you ask and make yourself comfortable, San’s and your hands placed on the edge of the sofa, while his stomach lays flat over the whole surface, legs extended out.

“Where I was? Good question,” San lulls, laughing a little bit, "Seonghwa brought me as his plus one to one of his friend’s birthday party, that’s where I was!”

“Sounds nice,” you hum. “Didn’t know you were a cocktail-type of person, though.”

“Oh, do I smell?”

“Mhm—“

“But you’re right, actually, I’m not a long drink-drinker,” San falls in. Your eyes still being closed, you feel his soft, heated cheek against the surface of your hand, his swollen lips chafing subtly against your fingers. “But some girls came by with trays of self-made cocktails and… we couldn’t say no, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” you answer to just have answered something to fill in the silence. You can smell the saccarine scent in his T-shirt and you fear it's going to paint off from his saliva he's spreading onto your palm as San places kisses around your hand. "What do you think you're doing?", you ask sarcastically.

"Nothing?", San giggles, becoming a bit more eager with the smooches.

You've experienced him drunk a lot of times already, but usually he only drinks just up until the point where he can keep his “educated” tone to a perceivable level of sobriety. But as of right now, in contrast, he seems to be way loose, swimming somewhere in between of lust and senselessness, which irritates you more than it should.

That is another thing that has changed after a while you two had sex. You are perceiving him differently, more and more differently each time San exits through your door, leaving an emptiness inside you that another person can’t fill, by whatever measure possible. But apparently, the same doesn’t happen for him with you, and you have to convince yourself you can change that every single day.

“We should party together more often,” he inclines, “what do you like to drink?”

“Whatever’s available and does its job, I suppose.”

He giggles, gasping at your answer. “You don’t care about taste?”

“I mean, drink enough and everything is going to taste the same anyway, no?”

"Let's do it."

"Huh?"

"I'm in the mood right now~ Are you in the mood right now?"

You scoff and open your eyes, revealing a San piercing his sunken gaze through you, cupping his cheek with your hand surface like you’re a saint healing him, his nose glazed red, and his lips remain pinkishly stained — in the mood.

This is not Sannie, but your guts still churn in amazement at the sight. The fatigue is wearing off; the sight of the black-haired man caressing himself with you is... "appealing" to say the least. It looks like he’s devoting himself to you, but you’d be a lovelorn fool to think this to be true.

“Or am I too drunk?”, San asks, pouting. “I may sound like this, but I’m really not that drunk anymore, I swear!” He pushes his eyebrows down, seemingly trying to appear serious, but failing to do so.

“You don’t need to swear anything, San.”

Gritting your teeth, you try to maintain a smile towards the drunken man as benevolently as you can. Of course he came for only one thing and one thing only, regardless of how cute he's huffing against your words; here are you, thinking that San was trying to get you as his plus one just like Seonghwa did.

Fuck, he’s still so hot though, there is no way of denying that. The first attraction has never worn off and you’re still head over heels for this man who’s booping your nose tip with his finger on the hand that is intertwined with your own.

“So, what do you say, sweety?”

It only takes one look towards his private area to know that San’s pants are almost exploding from how hard he’s become, his bulge being a face-forward sign inquiring sex.

“San, you know I won’t. It didn’t work the last time, don’t recall?”, you whoop.

He tries to kiss you, but fails to do so, as San misses your lips by an inch and falls to the floor. Your hands finally separate and you rub the inner burning space between your fingers as you remind him of the time when he’d drunk-texted you a message asking for "a quickie". San had made no spelling mistakes, but it had been very clear he had went to a party and returned sexually unsatisfied.

“Yeah, but that was via SMS. Now I’m here, and like, I even found my way to you, and they lived— like three blocks away, so I'm able to orientate myself, see?”, San corrects you.

“Impressive, but it doesn't change anything.”

“Morals?”

“Yes, morals.”

"You know I want to fuck you," he mumbles sulkily. Shuffling around, San sits up straight and looks at you with a saddened expression, his eyes trying to focus on you as he continues to talk you over: “But if you’re also drunk, you would?”

“Don’t even start."

“Which means you would?”

“San.”

“Come on, I’m being— I’m really being serious this time!”

You chuckle and brush his messy hair to the back, approaching his face to a dangerous distance, San’s lips opened by a slit, heavy breathing leaving his mouth while he watches you, his lip corners slightly turned upwards. He’s panting, his penis must be fighting for its life right now, and you’re just petting his head.

“At least watch me do it, then."

“Watch you masturbate?”

“Yep!”, San nods and unbuckles his belt without hesitation. “I bet you’d enjoy that! You would enjoy it, wouldn't you?”

“Maybe. Only if you don’t hold back your moans.”

“Consider it done, baby!”

You let out a laugh and search for a better position for seating to apparently enjoy the view. The drunk man takes a while to get rid of his pants, his legs getting tangled up and all, but once he kneels there, in his underwear, it’s showtime.

Or at least something like showtime. He’s being way too interactive with it for you to just sit back and relax. Whining your name in a needy pitch, he starts to pump his hardened cock inside the boxers, leaving whatever is happening there up to your imagination like a suggestive soft-porn video. However, you’ve seen his penis enough to know what it looks like, so this task is not too difficult for you. You can draw a picture of his cock down to each vein in your mind and you catch yourself drooling a bit, when you see his glistening tip peak from his waistband. You have to keep yourself together.

While letting out low groans, rubbing the head of his erection and creating slick sounds, San searches for your vicinity: “You like what you’re seeing there~?”

“What are you, a camboy?”, you tease and inhale sharply, when San grabs the seam of his T-shirt and bites down on it, revealing all of his abdomen, whining through his teeth. He’s definitely seen the same things as you online and his abs look phenomenal. Those things aren’t necessarily connected, but it’s the two thoughts shooting through your head as he begins to move his lower body to pump himself through his hand, chasing his own high.

“I don’t know!”, he lies, “I just like pleasing you!”

San purrs, his pelvis moving in round circles to accentuate his V-line and muscles flexing and un-flexing as he does so— leaving you quite speechless.

“Ah, really?”, you pant, him answering a very well-behaved “yeah, really~” right after.

“What do you want me to call you when I cum? Mommy?”

“Oh my god, is alcohol bringing out the submissive side out of you?”, you try to defuse the tension (mostly to hold yourself back from going savage towards this man as you always do) and chortle.

“Hmm, I don’t know about submissive~,” San answers, the saliva from his mouth soaking his black shirt, “but I should get naked first, no?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Taken aback by how you're anticipating seeing San jack himself off, you turn a bit too honest too quick like an avid viewer.

He grins and pulls the remaining clothing over his head with both hands, and his tip is still squeezed between his pelvis and waistband. By now, you really want to lick up the precum that’s leaking out, but you try to take your role as the sober audience seriously.

“You know, at the party, there was a girl,” San narrates, throwing his shirt to the side and looking down at his naked torso, “she told me I had nice pecs, so I said thank you, as one should.”

As an attempt to not interfere his performance, you wordlessly follow San’s hand trailing down his chest area down to his pelvis.

“But then someone told me she was flirting,” he continues, theatrically gasping to re-enact the surprise he felt after his friend had lectured him, “oh my god! I didn’t know! So naturally, I made out with her.” Which explains the red-stained lips, okay. Where is this talk going?

“But, the funny thing is,” San laughs, continuously brushing over his skin to give himself goosebumps, finally taking off his boxer-shorts up to his knees, his fully-erect, hardened cock jumping out and slapping against his abdomen as he plays with it, “she was so distracted by them, we didn’t even have sex. Like, she was massaging them and nothing else!”

You gulp at the sight of San lick over his finger and spread the spit on his lip with an opened mouth, making him look very erotic and naughty. His masturbating doesn’t seem to be speeding up any time soon though, San’s little tale isn’t over yet.

“I mean, it didn’t get me frustrated,” San admits, “but it did make me realise that some people can be in it for different reasons~!” That’s where he’s going with it, huh?

Okay, maybe you aren’t being very truthful to yourself, if you think that you've succeeded in hiding your feelings from San.

Let it be the one instance when you told him you were currently only hooking up with him and nobody else, or the other, when you woke up earlier than him and Seonghwa was the one to make you breakfast, San hearing his roommate joke that he should “join you sometime” and you dismissed it by saying you prefer it “private” — San has been presented the picture numerous times now, the picture being you wanting more than this, more than playing around with each other.

Which makes it all worse.

“… And she was in it for my boobs!”, San giggles and you notice you haven’t been listening for some while, staring at his hand installed around his dick, pre-cum dripping onto your living room-floor.

“San, less talking, more making yourself come.”

“Heyy, where'd that come from?”, San wheezes and leans against the couch, propping himself up with one elbow, “I haven’t asked you yet, what you are in it for, my lo—“

“Stop, fucking hell, I wanted to see you cum! Do it, San. I thought you were going to give me a show, not tell me a bedtime-story.”

“Geez, I just wanted to ask you about your kinks~!” Of course.

Grinning, San pumps himself quicker, hissing and whimpering, enjoying having all your attention on him. And even though there's nothing you'd love to do more than sucking him off, you’re still keep your hands to yourself, massaging your own tits as somewhat an homage to his dubious anecdote, but also compensate the vibrating between your legs. You’ve gotten unbearably aroused.

“Shit, keep touching yourself like that,” San responds and hopefully he’s forgotten what he was asking for. Filled with a sudden rush, he sings: “Do you want to masturbate too? With me? Do that, it'll be so hot. I will watch you too! Please, touch yourself with me.”

Too irritated and horny to do anything else about it, you let your hand slide into your pyjamas, and you meet your wet pussy immediately. You drive your fingers over the slickness, silently exhaling.

“That’s so hot,” San admires you and his vocabulary seems to have minimized due to his drunkness. He intensifies his masturbation, the grip around himself becoming tighter, and as he begins to thrust his pelvis through the hole he’s created on his own with his balled fist, San hisses erotically. Still not in control of his body, his arm holding him up folds unintentionally. San trips, and you twitch out of worry which you quickly realise you shouldn’t have. It's just a short moment, dismissable at best and to he honest, San is the one who’s naked, but in this moment, you feel more exposed than you’ve ever been. Fuck.

He doesn’t say anything, thankfully so, but as San moans and laughs simultaneously, almost with a mocking undertone, you don’t know whether the feeling inside your guts is your lust multiplying or your heart dropping. To get rid of bitter thoughts, you hope it’s the first and insert your fingers into yourself, trying to match the pace of San’s movement.

“You sure— that— you don’t need my help?”, San asks with not-so innocent intent, and his voice is strained from letting all the moans out as you told him to. “I really want to eat you out right now, there wasn’t anything to eat at the party… No food and too many cocktails~ Too many— oh, fuck…”

Becoming faster with his hands, it appears San is slowly approaching his orgasm, murmuring drunken words while you just started having fun with your own masturbation.

“Hold it,” you groan, trying to quicken up your pace.

“But,” San whines, working his ass front to back as he’s edged himself, “I even asked you, I— I can make you cum! I can make you cum without penetrating you, so please— just— let me cum! Didn’t you say you wanted to see me do that?”

“Changed my mind,” you say, scoffing at the whimpering man, sweat forming on his chest and dripping down his skin. “Now be a good boy and don’t cum until I say so.”

San is definitely exploring his submissive sides here, his brain almost doing a complete revamp when he hears himself be called "a good boy", a pant leaving his mouth, trying to follow your command. It’s like he’s become even more drunk, bathing in your praise when you hum: “Ohh, yes..”

Eyebrows pushed together, his dazy eyes disappear somewhere into the breaths of arousal in the thick air that’s been created between you two. San is crushed in between the pressure to perform well and his pure desire, the devilish voice inside his head whispering words of profanities to him. The blush accompanying the florid stains on his lip— San looks absolutely, endearingly fuckable.

“Oh my god," you gasp, hoarsely laughing at him, but mostly out of amazement, "you should see yourself right now."

"What? Do I look that good?", he snaps back, thrusting as fast as he tries to keep up with you, almost competing with the pace you're pleasuring yourself. Short of breath, San wheezes: "You sound so wet, and I bet that was all me, wasn't it? Because I look so good? I'm your type, aren't I? Nobody gets you like I do?"

"San—!”

Using your thumb to circle around your clitoris, you fall victim to San's provocative teasing that you’re not comprehending at all. All it takes is his sly, foxy side grin for you to understand that San is asking questions he knows the answers to, knows them a bit too well maybe, but he will not back down.

"Say it! You wouldn't have opened the door if I was someone else, would you?", he asks and you don't notice that he's leaning forward to you the more you fall back so you can reach your g-spot better. “Tell me, tell me what’s on your mind, you stopped doing that! Praise me more, aren’t I your hard-working camboy?”

"Don't act like you'd care!", it sizzles out of your mouth, a light-hearted chuckle following your answer as your finger slides over the spot that gets you moan the loudest, sparks of pleasure forming and exploding in your pants.

"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"

San is special, but so are you, and for the faint of your own feelings you won't allow this man to destroy your will just yet. You're already struggling to drive yourself to an orgasm all by yourself when San could do it so much better, but you can't afford a drunken confession (even if you're not even the one who's drunk) even for the sake of it.

"As if you could care," you joke with a wheeze and you catch yourself stopping to care about it. There is no inherent shame in liking San, but if there was, you aren't going to be embarrassed within the safe walls of your own home. You need the orgasm first.

"Well, yeah, I don't, but I'd still like to hear it out of your pretty mouth," San gutters huskily with the same grin, approaching you even more so you can see his abs tense up— thighs almost shaking from the withheld orgasm— up-front. “Take your clothes off.”

There's that again, this shift of power that San loves to abuse. Like a fucking metronome switching from one side to another, San changes up, which makes it impossible to get into his head. He's too smart to be sabotaged into submission, he must do it by himself. He's a wild animal that way, preying on you with hungry eyes, waiting for the moment you're too distracted to fight back. "Distracted" meaning wanting his cock in your cunt, that is.

Hurrying the hell up, you hastily pull off your pants and panties over your legs, revealing your pulsating, throbbing pussy that has been rubbed to a numbingly sensitive state.

"Yeah, I knew it, you're so fucking wet, shit, you’re leaking," San sighs in awe, gulping at the sight of your labia be moved around by your fingers, still wanking. "You should know that I’m so mad that I can’t bury my face between your thighs— you're so, fuck, you're so gorgeous, you should be the one who's the camgirl, shit.”

By now, your and his face are mere centimetres from each other, and there’s this heat that drives both of you, his lewd words melting against your skin.

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," you sneer, flattered by his empty-minded eulogy, "I'm not going to let you fuck me even if you're being nice."

"Can you even make yourself cum with your own fingers?", San hisses pettily, watching them go in and out of you, daring you to go deeper, "I bet it doesn't feel like I do!”

"It doesn't, thank you very much," you quarrel and throw your head back for a moment to moan, accepting his challenge of resisting his soliciting. He’s piercing through you with lusty eyes— glassy from the orgasm he's been fleeing from since the beginning of your dispute, almost crying from being restrained that much.

"Are you close?", he whines, getting a bit impatient. "Please be close."

What? Do you think I'll let you cum?

"I'm so close," you whine back, speedening your fingers inside you, trying to thunder them as forcefully as possible to simulate the thickness and vigour of San.

“Good, that’s so very good.”

Sighs and pants leave through San’s opened lips and he looks for greed inside your irises, as you watch his shaft shimmer under the night-lights, imagining it pulsing through you, all of its girth stretching you out in a way you can’t achieve with your fingers from this angle.

“San,” you whimper, feeling your climax approaching quickly.

“Hmnh?”, the addressed man reacts, and his voice is shivering, waiting for you to say the magic words.

“San,” you moan again.

Tell me that you want me. How bad you want me. That you want to be mine, that you want me to be yours. That you’re thinking of nobody else, that you’ll only think of—

“I’m here, baby,” San answers and swings one hand around your neck, closing the small distance by pulling you closer to him; your lips clash together and his tongue eagerly slicks against yours, him heavily breathing inside your mouth. His saliva tastes of a life on the other side of the globe and as he thrusts into his grip with an unbelievable velocity, orgasming with strings of cum landing on your pyjamas, you feel otherworldly.

But San won’t stop milking himself until you have come to exhaustion as well: When he sees you push your lower body up, San throws his unoccupied hand under yours to take over your onanism, burying his digits inside you immediately. Surprised by his sudden gesture, you back your head away from the kiss, your body spasming together because of the overwhelming pleasure.

“You know you need me, don’tcha?”, San beams.

This is wrong, this is all wrong, this is not how you planned this, you cry, but by itself, your hand rubs over your clitoris repeatedly and because San has become a master in knowing where, when and how to finger you, it is impossible to not cum with him and become a moaning mess under his touch. It’s whirring, it’s sparking, San is trying to send you over the edge of the world and you’ll risk everything for it.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whimper, feeling like you’re being intoxicated with the poisonous sucking at your neck and the stirring in your pussy; your body is being stimulated at so many points that it can’t catch up anymore. Not missing one beat, you scream out your orgasm, falling into the embrace of the muscular man who is barely any safety, his fingers not leaving your pussy.

“Be happy I’m not gonna shoot my second load into you, because your tiny pussy would feel so fucking perfect around my big cock right now and I could stretch it out so fucking nicely,” San growls intimidatingly, and you notice that his dick has become hard again right after his first orgasm, his stamina continuing to be one ridiculous weapon.

You moan, and apparently you’re not able to say anything except this, swinging your arms around his shoulders to not fall deeper into his fingers that are stirring your insides, “San!”

“What?”, he sneers and bites into your ear, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“San, I—,” you start begging and reinforce the clasp to somehow make him slow down, tugging at his hair.

“Hmm? Yes? What are you? Coming? Being stupid for me again? Say it, say it for me, baby.”

“I, o- oh, stop, fuuck—!”, you whimper with the way he’s quaking you through and through, but your request gets lost in the sounds of your squirt meeting the floor. You see a lightning bolt strike in front of your eyes, your consciousness sent into the wide space of otherworldly dimensions: all you can hear his San’s stunned gasping once he realises what he’s achieved and him ejaculating the second time because of it, right on the spots he didn’t get the first time round.

“Holy fuck, mom~my,” he coos, finally letting you free, his own tension being relieved as well. San lets himself relax against the couch, taking you right with him on his bare, sweaty chest, your arms rested on his shoulders. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

You’re too busy catching your breath, the once-gone fatigue coming right back, hitting you like a wall. There’s nothing else on your mind rather than to cuddle into San’s arms and get some well-deserved sleep.

“Do you think you could do that on my dick?”, San asks and you can’t bear to answer. You’re lucky that his penis has gone limp, because you know that this man could continue for hours if he wanted to. “I think that just kicked all the booze out of me,” he pants and you know he’s lying by the way he’s continuing to lull. “I’ve made many girls squirt, but that was really something else. Maybe it’s because I never came with them. And I wasn’t even touching myself, can you believe that? You made me cum untouched, fuck…”

San has forgotten your first time.

And yeah, you want to blame it on the alcohol, you don’t know if he’s just mixing things up, whether his memories are hazy because of the months that have passed since the incident— but it’s the only way his surprised face makes sense. Of course people can forget and get confused, it’s just sex and fun after all, but it still feels… disappointing. Like the first time you found out he wasn’t all that “yours” after all, it’s not like he’s breaking any promise, rather than being a moment of “oh, but I thought— well, never-mind”.

“Hey, you can’t sleep now,” San reminds you, “you got my cum on your shirt.”

“I don’t care,” you mumble and rest your temple at his collarbone, stealing a glimpse of what appears to be San being on his phone that has been stashed inside his pants.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m gonna go,” San smiles.

“Go?”

“Not home! Did I scare you? You clutched me like there’s no tomorrow.”

You bite into his flesh to get him to shut up and he scrunches his nose.

“You make a very comfortable bed…”

“Yeah?” San puts away his phone and installs his arms around your waist, grabbing your ass in the process. “I’m glad.”

Ignoring that your naked privates are touching, you sigh into his skin. Because the taste has already entered your system, he doesn’t smell like alcohol anymore, he smells sugary sweet, the mild scent of his body leading you to further sleep. “Mhm, it’s the best,” you purr thoughtlessly, feeling safe in his hug.

“You’re only nice to me at times like this~,” San remarks with a pout and stands up with ease, carrying you to your bathroom. “You’re always so... gutsy when we have sex. Are you that dominant?”, he rambles silently, putting you down inside the space of the shower. While he talks, he does a little shimmy to instruct you to get your arms up. “You know I don’t mind, but I’m not lying when I ask you to call me stuff. Like nice stuff. Sexy nice stuff. Gets me on~”

“How are you still drunk?”, you ask, too exhausted to take your top off by yourself, letting San pull it off with his hands.

“Why?”, he asks sassily, throwing your shirt inside the clothing bin, quickly rushing to the living room and back to get his own clothing back, explaining: “It’s just something I noticed! Other girls don’t do it like you can! Like, calling me camboy was something, but then you were so mean with it—“

Returning back to the bathroom, he crosses his arms and leans against the shower door.

“If that’s too mean, you must really not like degradation,” you chuckle, sitting naked in front of him. “And you do dirty talk and call me whore.”

“You know that’s different!”, San argues, taking off his socks and grabbing the shower hose behind you. “I at least keep a balance with pet-names, don’t I, darling~?”

“Quite convincing,” you remark, barely perceiving the whole scene.

“Wait, can you—“

“Here you go.”

You stand up and walk back a step so San can have the same amount space inside the shower. You actually have never showered together before, so this one is a first, but who knows whether San is aware of this or not.

You don’t want to be too grim about it.

San turns on the water only to realise that it’s not going to get warm. “This is bad~!”, he pouts. “It’s too cold…”

“Maybe you’ll sober up with the shock?”

Getting some water in his hand, you fear he’s gonna splash it to you, but San only applies it to his arm which doesn’t even need the water by how sweaty it is.

“I dunno if I’ll get it on my hair, I just don’t wanna leave the alcohol stink over your bed~!”

… Sweet, angel boy. Don’t you be so nice to me. You’ll mistake it for something else, if he doesn’t stop.

“Hey, you good over there?”

“You,” you stammer, “you still have lipstick stains on your face.”

“What’s that mean, “still”? Did I come here with lipstick on my face?”

Okay, so maybe he hasn’t tried to get rid of them at all before he came in. Ouch? — Ugh, who cares, let’s get you to bed first. Over-thinking is for tomorrow, you’re fucked out of your mind and San will be tomorrow too, if the alcohol stays this long in his body.

A sigh which turns into a scoff leaves your mouth. “Yes, yes, you did.”

“Do you think it’ll leave a stain?”

“It should go away.”

“Help me~”

San lowers himself a little bit so you have better access to his flushed face and turns the pressure low so you can wet your hands with a little bit of water, before you carefully brush them over his lips which feel hot in the cold liquid.

“Thank you,” he whispers and you stare onto his soft lips as you answer, “no need to.”

“No, I should, like a nice ladies’ man is to do, right?”

San throws an award-winning, a bit loose-eyed smile at you and uncontrollably, you smile back at his dimples. It’s a heart-warming moment, though you fear the warmth is not going to last long. These lips aren’t yours, he’s proving to you that they’re not yours— shit, fuck, damn it— you will probably not get over this for the rest of the night, if you don’t change the topic soon.

“Yeah. You.. ladies’ man.”

“You said that!”

“I did?”

“Well, actually, I don’t know, I think it was “people-pleaser” or something, actually, but I like.. Well, I actually like both!”

“You like being called a ladies’ man and people-pleaser?”

Rubbing his lower lip with your thumb, you question San’s understanding of the words he apparently enjoys to be described as. What a San-thing to do, you smirk to yourself.

“Seonghwa agrees!”

“With what, that they’re good words?”

“No, he said that they describe me pretty well.”

“Ah.”

“Do you agree?”

You inhale sharply and bite your lip, meeting his sunken eyes, a bit droopy from the exhaustion finally hitting your black-haired apprentice as well.

“I,” you start to say, “I don’t know. When I said that, … I meant something else, I think.”

“You think so?”

You know so.

“Because it’s, hm, I don’t know. Nice, isn’t it? The thought of being wanted by two groups? The ladies~ The people~ I’m their man, I’m their pleaser, you know?”

“Yeah, you please ‘em very well. There you go. Praise. Are you happy?”

San nods enthusiastically and hugs you, forgetting that he has ice-cold water running inside his hand, getting your whole back stunned.

“SAN!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m so—!” His eyes are big, but he’s laughing, he’s laughing very loudly, getting the shower off and hugging you again, leaving balmy kisses all over your face. “Sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, I’m unforgivable!”

Except maybe he is.

When San tugs you in, waiting until you don’t answer his late-night questions of “who invented the camera” and “who was the first live-streamer” to tell himself goodnight and fall asleep immediately, you feel at ease: Disregarding that it took alcohol, will again take alcohol to have moments like these, there’s hope that there is still a little bit of Sannie that you can salvage.

He may not be yours yet, and for what he ensues it will take a damned long time for him to be, but San is here, laying in bed with you, one hand extended out, perfectly formed for your hand to fit in it and oh, how fit in it does.

part three: “the red he leaves is different [i wish it was]”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san smut #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser #chokkiwa

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