#[ if I had the time I'd rather just write a weird one-shot but oh well here's this spill ]

[senseichaos]

hi hi! That one-shot you did with Alastor broadcasting his and reader's..."love-making" was rather delicious but I can't help but think of you know..aftercare. It was quite rough and I'd love to see Alastor being sweet and sorta guilty for going so roughly cause we both know...reader was bleeding after😭😭😭

Yess I love writing aftercare and when I saw this I was immediately wanting to write it ! Thank you

"Pathetic" But still a princess,

Summary: Alastor roughed you up quite badly in your last.. fornication session.. so as to make it a more happy evening he gives you some very much needed aftercare! (Part 2 to "Pathetic")

Genre: Fluff, romance, slight sexual undertones

Warnings: Swearing, blood, Alastor is kinda bipolar considering how much more soft he acts in this compared to the last part, love confessions, lmk if I missed any

NOT EDITED NOR PROOFREAD (YET)

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Alastor carries you the entire way to his room, not wanting to rough up your brain by teleporting to his room. And oddly he sort of enjoyed the intimacy of it all. It's weird, Alastor is never really one to enjoy intimacy, but this odd time he feels nice giving you this comfort.

As he enters his room, he makes sure to lock the door behind him so no one comes in whilst he bathes you, and with a smile to you walks to his suite. The suite isn't the largest but it's big enough that when he places you on the side of the bath he can walk around you with ease.

"Alastor I think I'm bleeding," You say, looking at some scratches on your thigh as Alastor takes off his overcoat and folds it neatly. He gives you a soft look, placing his coat to the side.

"Well of course you are darling! My fawn had to learn her lesson somehow, hm?" Alastor says with a small chuckle, squatting down (his knees clicking as he does so) to turn on the water of the bath. You roll your eyes, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as you contemplate taking it off.

"Take off your shirt, dear, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Alastor commands with a rather teasing tone, arranging the correct soap to put inside of your bath. You nod, pulling off your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor next to the bath. You almost cover yourself, but understand if you did Alastor would probably tell you off.

After the bath fills a bit Alastor taps the side of the bath, capturing your attention.

"You can get in now, fawn. It should be warm enough," He says, and you give him a small nod. Rather awkwardly with your pained thighs you manage to crawl yourself into the bath, Alastor does end up helping you a bit when you almost faceplant into the water, shifting you so you sit with a weirdly empathetic look for him.

"Now let's not fall on our face, shall we. I'd rather not have you more injured than you are already,"

You giggle, leaning up and squishing his cheek playfully.

"Awe you care about me, that's new," you say, and he takes your hand off of his face with a stern look.

"I wouldn't call it 'new', you just haven't seen it yet," He says, and you give him a confused look as he starts pouring some bubble soap into the bath.

"What haven't I seen?"

He laughs, shaking his head as he begins mixing in the soap with his hand.

"Me caring about you, silly doe," He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his wet hand. This causes you to shake the water off and give him an annoyed look.

"Give me an example,"

He looks up for a moment, thinking of an instance where he's shown care for you.

"Well, how about earlier today when I told you not to drink the tea because it was hot?" He asks, turning the water pressure on the hot water slightly higher. You roll your eyes, pulling your aching knees to your chest as the water around you rises.

"Oh so what, the bare minimum.. how caring of you Alastor,"

"Now don't get pissy with me, dear. I was only giving you an example of my caring for you," He chuckles, giving your nose a soft boop as he continues mixing the water. You notice his sleeve is dangerously close to the water, so you push his hand from the water slowly.

"Careful, you're gonna get your sleeves wet," You say, and Alastor smiles slightly wider.

"Don't worry about it, my dear. It's nothing I can't handle," He says, his green magic surrounding his sleeves and rolling them up to just above his elbows. "You shouldn't have to worry about something so small as my sleeves,"

Your eyes go glossy with tears at the odd affection in his voice. It's something you've never heard from him before. Sure there's the empty compliments, the empty pecks, but this is different. It's as if he loves you.

"Do you really care about me, Alastor?"

Alastor furrows his brows, turning off the hot water tap as the bath is full enough with water. He leans over, pushing his hand against your cheek as he leans there.

"Of course I do, my dear," he pauses, looking into the distance for a moment as if contemplating. "And I do apologize for being so rough with you today, you had to learn your lesson somehow,"

You giggle, pushing his hand away and leaning against the back of the bath.

"It's okay Alastor, I liked it more than I'd like to admit,"

Alastor rolls his eyes at this, grabbing a sponge from the corner of the bath.

"Charming, my fawn," He says, putting his sponge into the water and squeezing it so the soapy water fills it. He begins to scrub you with it, staring with your face as he pushes your hair from your face, holding you there by it.

"Fuck you, as if you didn't enjoy it either!"

He laughs, scrubbing your nose as you scrunch your eyes.

"Well of course I did dear, I wouldn't have initiated it if I hadn't, hm?" Alastor hums, moving to scrub your other cheek. You sputter on a cough, your eyes squinting at the way he scrubs you. He just chuckles, scrubbing your chin and jaw.

"Do you really have to clean the entirety of me?" You ask, biting your lower lip as he tilts your head back by your hair. Alastor continues to scrub your chin, moving to the other side of your jaw.

"Well of course I do, a clean fawn is a happy fawn." He says, pinching your cheek and cooing in a sort of cute fashion. Rolling your eyes you attempt to splash water at him, only for the water to be caught up in his green magic and placed back into the water.

"Now don't try anything silly, fawn,"

You moan in annoyance, hissing when his sponge begins to scrub the raw skin on your neck from the collar he had you in. The skin is bruised and even as a couple cuts from the force he used. You wonder what he thinks about when he looks at the damage. Does he find it funny? Does it feed a possessiveness in him? Does he feel guilty?

"What do you think about when you see the marks on me?" You ask out of the blue, against your better judgement.

Much to your surprise, Alastor just tilts his head in acknowledgement before speaking.

"Hm, well I feel a tad proud, and I feel a tad guilty. But, I also feel like I want to eat you up!" He answers, ending his sentence in a teasing manor. But you don't miss the slight hunger in his eyes at the thought. You narrow your eyes, speaking: "Please don't,"

"Oh I wouldn't, dear. It's just a tad fun to think about," He says with a humor in his voice, and you can't help but laugh. Alastor moves his hand from your hair, placing it on your neck as he pushes your head back with his thumb.

"Bet you'd get your rocks off to it," You chuckle, biting on your cheek uncomfortably as Alastor scrubs the back of your neck. His eyes darken slightly, tilting your head down to get better access to the back of your neck.

"Don't tempt me, fawn," He says softly, pressing the spong to your collarbone to clean the slightly bruised area. Hissing in pain you flinch away from Alastor as his sponge brushes onto a cut. He gives you a sort of stern yet understanding look, reaching out for your arm to pull you closer to him again as soft as possible.

"Sorry my dear, it's going to hurt," Alastor apologizes, setting his hand back onto your neck so he can scrub your shoulders. Once again you hiss when the sponge hits a sensitive area of raw skin, but this time you stay put.

"You know I don't think it's fair that you get to sit outside of the bath.. how are you gonna clean my legs!" You ask, Alastor just humors you with a chuckle.

"Like this,"

He spins you around gently so your legs are hanging off the edge of the bath, dripping water down to the tiled flooring below. He takes a hold of your left ankle and begins scrubbing your foot, causing you to begin giggling at the way he scrubs the ticklish area.

"Ah! That tickles..!" You laugh, clasping your damp hands over your mouth as he continues scrubbing your foot. Alastor doesn't acknowledge you, instead going to scrub down your calf.

"I still think this is unfair, what if I want to clean you!"

"I had a bath this morning, no point in bathing again," He says with an obvious tone. You roll your eyes, looking up at the roof as he continues to clean your left leg.

"Can I at least wash you another time?"

"Maybe If you continue to be steadfast in no longer entering my studio unprompted, fawn," He answers, leaning over you as he finishes your left leg, beginning to clean your stomach.

"I'm bored.." You groan, leaning your head back into the splashback of the bath. Alastor narrows his eyes, and suddenly a tentacle with another sponge appears behind you, pushing you before beginning to clean your back.

"What a needy thing you are,". He says, causing you to huff out in displeasure. To your surprise he leans over you even more, even slightly towering over you as he cleans your breasts. It makes you blush, really. Having him tower over you like this in almost a lascivious manor whilst doing the most domestic of things. He's just cleaning you, for Christ sake!

"Alastor,"

"Hm?"

You wonder. Does he love you? You want to ask it so badly. When he towers over you like this and cleans every crevice of your body does his heart clench? Does his body feel warm? Does he get those butterflies that you do? You wonder.

"Do you love me?"

He stops moving, both him and his tentacle which had started cleaning your lower back.

His eyes reflect a myriad of emotions, many of which you can't even begin to fathom. He seems almost on edge. As if your question had sent him into his brain completely.

"I.. I think I might in my own.." he pauses, placing his pointer finger against his chin in thought. "Immoral ways,"

"Immoral?"

He continues to wash you, along with the tentacle, seeming to have gotten his point across enough to continue what he was doing.

"I'm not a moral demon, dear. When I think of you I want to devour you, but, I also want to hold you,"

Devour you?

"Well, I love you Alastor.."

"I love you too, fawn. Now let's get to cleaning your hair, shall we?"

You groan, pouting in annoyance at the thought of spending another 30 minutes in this bath. Though Alastor just laughs to himself, squeezing your cheek.

"How cute you are when you're all mad at me, hm?"

You stick out your tongue at him.

Normal, well as normal as you can be, once again.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

What's One More?

Mike Schmidt x AFAB! Reader

Summery: The house is all to you and Mike, which is a strange feeling to Mike as he begins to realize how things are changing. But change isn't always a bad thing, is it?

Tags: Porn with plot barely, no use of Y/N, Reader has female pronouns, set after the events of the FNaF movie, pre-established relationship, breeding kink, dirty talk/talking through it, oral sex (fem recieving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, pet names, possessive sex/actions, marking, hair pulling, mentions of drinking, multiple rounds, aftercare, multiple orgasms, teasing, dumbification, overstimulation, this is possibly filthier than Princess imma be fr.

Notes: Yes I'm working on requests. Yes I'm working on part II for 'Easy Money.' Yes I'm working on 50 million different projects + writers block that's preventing me from posting as much as I'd like. But in the meantime, *rattles can* COME GET Y'ALLS DICK.

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The front door opened at the same time it does everyday, Mike slipping in quickly to evade the cold, bitter Febuary air that has turned his cheeks red while he called out his usual 'hello' to the house. His easy smile instantly appeared as soon as our eyes met, me standing at the stove giving the large pot of chilli its final stir just in time for his arrival home.

"Hey!" I said cheerfully, looking up from the boiling pot briefly before setting the lid back down, crossing the floor quickly to come collect his coat.

"Hey," he returned, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my cheek as I undo his buttons, his hands coming to rest on my silk covered hips. "Never seen you in this before," he mumbled, pulling away slightly to get a better look.

"You like?" I ask, pushing the jacket off of his shoulders and folding it over my arms. "I've had this since freshman year. Found it in one of my boxes from the move." The robe is simple, thrifted but It'd been new when I'd gotten it. Emerald green and made from silk, if not silk like material- I'm no expert on fabrics, -reaching down to my ankles and showing off my curves, drawn tight around my waist to accent my figure. Simple floral patterns sewn into the collar decorate the robe, slightly darker than the rest of the fabric. His eyes wandered over my body, taking in the sight as he slowly removed his items from his pockets.

"You look nice," he said, almost sounding as if he was in a trance.

"Just nice?" I tease.

"The word 'motherly' comes to mind," he said. "Not- not in a weird way," he quickly added, blushing slightly. "Just- you cooking, dressed in that. Just kinda...." He's flustered, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to clarify what I already understand.

I smile at him, leaning closer. "Well, it's fitting," I teased.

It had been about a year since I moved in. Mike and I had met during a night out, our friends recognizing each other. Initially I thought the blonde he had been with- Vanessa, I would later learn, -had been a bit more than a friend. But after spending the night round a table, laughing and getting up one by one for drunken karaoke, Mike and I had made eye contact enough times to warrant my request for his number after I confirmed she wasn't.

"Seriously?" He asked when I'd passed him the notepad specifically meant for numbers that I kept in my purse.

"Yeah," I'd laughed, slightly- okay, maybe more than slightly -drunk. "You're hot."

I was three beers and one shot of straight tequila into the night when I'd asked, everyone beginning to debate who would call a taxi and who would ride with who. I felt rather confident.

His eyes narrowed, his cheeks red most likely from alcohol. Although he'd only had the one beer.

"Oh shit," I giggled stupidly. "Did I read things wrong? Because I thought-"

"No! You didn't," he quickly said, cutting me off. He scribbled his number down quickly, scratchy enough that I could barely read it, and he could sense that.

"You want me to write it again?" He asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Maybe," I giggled. "Or I can have my friend ask Vanessa if I get it wrong."

I got it wrong. Twice. But that was my fault since I called as soon as I'd gotten home, bleary eyed and claiming to just be checking to see if he got home alright, which wasn't a total lie. Then he asked if I wanted to get Chinese the next day. And how am I supposed to say no to an offer like that?

When he first brought up his sister I think he expected me to run for the hills. God, no. Not a man committed to caring for his baby sister. Please.

When I'd met the girl she was sly, simply saying "Oh, you're who he won't talk about." Mike seemed ready to throttle her, and I was ready to step in and help take care of her however much they needed me to. Who could say no to a kid like that?

Three years in and Mike had been nervous asking for me to move in. We'd both had the idea, but we both were terrified that the other would immediately shoot it down. But it was almost ridiculous to worry about such a thing. Mike had visited me all the time with Abby in tow, I visited Mike. Eventually we were at the point that I was at his house more often than I was at my own apartment. And with Abby getting older and beginning to have a life of her own, one that I could tell Mike was anxious about her having, it was about time a serious talk be had about the future of our relationship.

"You know, married couples have better taxes," I said casually one day while huddled around the kitchen table, papers strewn all over the place and some even on the floor while I punched numbers into a calculator. I think that nearly killed Mike, who shot out air through his nose hard enough all of his coffee covered his face and hair.

Then a week later he'd flipped through channels lazily, commenting on how awful the channels were before landing on the one of the marketers selling jewelry for prices that could make you shit.

"That's a nice ring," he commented. "Don't you think?"

I looked up from my book, narrowing my eyes to focus my vision. "Ooh, it is," I agreed.

"What kind of rings do you like? Like, what's your favorite?" He asked.

"Subtle," I deadpanned, smiling. "I'm coming with you to pick it out."

We picked up a new set of housekeys first.

"Get a room," Abby groaned, wandering in to flop onto the couch.

"Don't flop, you'll hit your head," Mike and I both scolded, smiles growing as we heard the other. Abby simply groaned louder, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, that's punishment enough," I muttered, giggling slightly. I moved to the coat closet, hanging up Mike's jacket. "How was work?" I asked him.

Mike shrugged, leaning against the wall. "It was good. Long. Shop gets cold this time of year," he said.

"Well, dinner will help. It's done, by the way. Timed it just right," I said with a wide smile. Mike returned it, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me once more and say a soft 'thank you' before pressing his lips to mine.

"Seriously, a room," Abby groaned.

"There's one right there with a table that needs set. Go on," I said to her, gesturing towards the adjacent room. She rolled her eyes once more, getting up off the couch and grumbling as she made her way to the cabinets.

"Wow," Mike chuckled. "She's got attitude."

"She's fourteen, we should be lucky she hasn't killed us in her sleep," I said into his ear, laughing.

"Don't you mean ours?"

"No."

The dinner is nice. A scene right out of a book, all of us gathered around the table eating the warm food as we discuss our days, Mike and I shooting each other glances here or there when we think Abby, who's in the middle of some long story neither of us are truly able to give our attention towards, won't notice. Eventually his hand found mine under the table, grasping it gently and squeezing as I hold his gaze, smiling in the same idiotic manner he always brings out of me.

"It's tonight. I know it's short notice but all of my friends are going and her parents will be there," Abby said quickly, inturrupting our mental conversation with her pleading eyes.

"Wait a minute, back up. What's happening?" Mike said, blinking and refocusing.

"The sleepover," Abby said emphatically. "I didn't find out about it until today and my friends invited me. Can I go?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, his eyes worried and glancing over to me.

"Who is this?" He asked.

"Lisa."

"Lisa?"

"Lisa Browning," I reminded him.

"Oh. And this is at her house?" He asked.

"Yes," Abby moaned in frustration, clearly impatient for her answer.

Mike and I glanced at each other. His eyes are unsure, looking to me for my thoughts.

"She visits them all the time, I don't see why not," I said. I turn to Abby. "Is her mom picking you up?"

"She can," Abby said quickly.

Mike is still unconvinced, I can tell by his grasp on my hand.

"You have that phone we bought you for Christmas?" I asked her. She nodded. Since recieving the cheap, purple Motorola she hadn't let it out of her grasp. "If you go, will you call us when you get there, when you guys are going to sleep? Any location change you'll run by us first?" I asked. Abby nodded again, her eyes shifting to Mike once more, wide with teenage desperation.

It was hard for Mike watching her get older. It would scare any parent, but take a man who'd watched his brother be kidnapped and his parents wilt away leaving him to step up? There were days Mike would wake hyperventilating, terrified something would happen to her if he didn't do something. It took convincing, but over time I had convinced him to relax, told him she was smart. Once I'd told him all the trouble I'd survived, he finally learned to catch his breath before jumping into several questions about how I was still alive with a new panic.

With a squeeze of my hand, he nodded.

"Check in. If you don't, I'll call her mom."

"Unnecessary, I'll call," Abby said, leaping from her seat and already dialing a number.

"Wash your plate!" Mike tried to tell her, but she was already gone.

"I'll get her plate, let her go," I chuckled. Mike sighs beside me, wiping his face with his hand.

"You think she'll be okay?" He asked me.

"I think fourteen year olds spend their days watching scary movies and MTV, nothing she won't do here," I said, taking a spoonful of chilli into my mouth. After I swallow I add, "Besides, it gives us the chance for some alone time."

That solidified the decision in his mind.

Much to Abby's embarrassment, Mike reminded Mrs. Browning to have Abby call us to check in, and with her reassurement he finally relaxed, walking back into the house once they're out of sight.

As I finish drying the dishes, I feel his hands settle on my hips, warm and large as he sinks his head into the crook of my neck.

"Where did the time go?" He mused, moreso to himself than to me.

"Feeling old?" I teased.

"Yes."

"Hot."

"Shut up," he groaned, laughing into my neck.

"'Oh my God, get a room,'" I groan in a fake voice, my laughter joining in.

"Are we gross?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.

"A little," I concede. "I mean, imagine how you're gonna feel when she brings home a boyfriend."

At that his eyes widen and he groans. "I don't wanna deal with teenage boys," he moaned, pulling away to lean against the counter in front of me.

"Oh, they're coming. Just you wait. I was this age when I got my first boyfriend," I warned him.

"Teenage boys are idiots," he said.

"Teenage girls are terrifying," I add. At that he nods, eyebrows raised in agreement. "Oh, she could bring home a girl instead!"

"You know what, I'd prefer that. Less trouble actually," he decided.

"You'll survive," I tell him, shaking my head as I set the dish inside the cabinet with a small clatter. He sighed, smiling to himself in thought.

"I remember when she was a baby. So tiny," he said softly. "You should've seen her. So cute. Smelled good, too."

"You've been smiling at babies a lot, you know," I teased, shutting the cabinet and putting away the dishcloth. "Something on your mind?"

Mike blushed, waving his hand. "Nah." He paused. "...kinda," he admitted. I chuckled. Every time we'd passed a couple our age walking through the store with a baby in tow, Mike was instantly softened. His usual automatic glare giving way to a little smile as he'd wave at the tiny human, maybe even making a face to make them laugh. It'd been entertaining when ones mother once caught him with his cheeks puffed out and eyes crossed, the baby letting out a huge shriek of laughter at the sight. He hid in the soup aisle for awhile after that while I tried not to cry from laughter.

"We still have plenty of Abby's old baby stuff in the garage, you know," I said. It wasn't a new conversation, we had both agreed it was something we wanted when the time came. "Spare room, stable jobs, great sex."

Mike's wide eyes watched me as I slowly trailed closer. "Good genetics," he mumbled.

"I don't see any reason we couldn't put any use to those things," I mused, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and leaning into him.

"I can't tell if you're serious," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Even Abby would like it. Said we're taking forever as is," I said cooly. He laughed at that.

"No she didn't," he said.

"She did!"

"Abby, the one who can't even see us in the same room without threatening suicide?"

"Listen, babies are different," I laughed, shrugging. He eyed me carefully, looking me up and down before saying anything.

"You'd like that?" He asked finally, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"I'm living in your house, wearing a ring and making dinner for you and your little sister that I've been helping you raise for four years. What is one more commitment?" I asked.

"It's a human being," he pointed out.

"Oh, fuck that then. None of those shits are gonna live in my house," I deadpanned. He laughed, leaning in to catch my lips in a kiss.

"Be our human being," he said softly.

"That means it'll be funny," I said just as soft.

"It could have your eyes."

"Could have your nose."

"Yours is better."

"You're right."

He smacks my ass gently, chuckling as his eyes darken pleasantly. "Should we give it a try?" He asked, his voice low and rough in my ear.

"I'd say it's about time you asked."

Mike hiked me onto his shoulder, carrying me through the house and pushing open the door to our room as I giggled wildly, feeling the bed underneath of me as he flung me down, fingers searching for the ties of my robe.

"You're sure about this?" He asked, eyes watching me carefully. "This isn't just some sex thing?"

I laughed, feeling him struggle with the knot.

"Not a sex thing," I clarify. "Although admittedly hot. Do you need help?"

"The fuck did you do to this thing?" He asked, laughing but brows furrowed in frustration. I reached to pull on the string and give it one simple tug, making it come undone to reveal my simple underwear underneath.

"I like coming home to this," he said, his voice deep and husky. "You look so comfortable here. So perfect. House is so much brighter with you in it. Just so perfect."

His lips wander on my chest, first working on the valley between my breasts, his teeth nipping at the band of my bra. He tugged it upwards, snapping it against my skin harshly. A soft moan escapes me, and I allow my legs to fall open to offer him better access. He takes the opportunity, settling his body perfectly against mine as his lips begin to trail upwards to my throat.

"I love waking up next to you in the morning. I sleep so much easier with you here, feeling your breath against me as soon as I wake up. You've got creative methods to keep me up too when I don't want to be," he teased. His hands find my hips, squeezing them as he thrust our clothed hips together, making us both groan. "Are you already wet?" He asked me, nipping at my throat.

"Gotta have something to think about while I cook," I teased. He chuckled. His lips find purchase and begin sucking on my skin, creating a dark mark on the front of my throat that will only be properly covered by a sweater. I moaned slightly louder, rocking my hips slowly against his. His lips moved slightly higher, creating another, then repeating until a dotted line of dark hickies lay upon my throat, marking me all the way to just under my chin. As he sucked on the edge of my jawline, I let out a high pitched whine, digging my hands into my own hair as I tried to not rush through this.

"You sound so pretty like this," Mike said against my skin, his breath warm. "Only thing prettier is how you look." His warm hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone softly.

"Talk to me," he said softly, staying still aside from the gentle stroke of his thumb. His eyes are soft, black in the dim lighting from his blown out pupils. He looks so sweet, so ready to please. If I said the word he'd do anything so long as it made me happy.

I cup his face with my hands, pulling him towards me to capture his lips in a soft kiss. His lips are warm against mine, wet from his own spit from creating the dark marks against me. He moaned softly, his tongue swiping at my lower lip to ask permission for access. I grant it, parting my lips slightly and gasping as his tongue quickly slides in, deep in my mouth and dominating the kiss as his grasp on me tightened. It felt as though he was desperate, like a dying man trying to experience his last contact with another human being ever in his life. I tried to return the kiss with as much frenzy, but his hands on either side of my face, his grasp firm yet careful, his hips pinning me to the mattress made my mind begin to slip into a world of pleasure, not able to focus on anything except how good it felt to not be in control.

I could feel his breathing through his nose, still kissing me and exploring my mouth. It lasted a minute, two, three. When he finally pulled away, several gossamer threads of spit still connected us, disappearing into thin air as he looked down at me, his hand carefully stroking my forehead.

"I'm going to ask one more time," he said carefully. "This is your last chance. After this I'm not checking," he stressed. His breath is hot and heavy against me, and my hips roll against his in an attempt for friction. "Are you one hundred percent positive?" He asked, his eyes wide and eager as he placed carefully kisses along my cheeks. I nod quickly, desperate for more. Mike shook his head, pulling away slightly.

"Say it," he said. "Be clear."

I blushed, suddenly feeling shy for no real reason. "I'm completely sure," I said gently. "I want this."

"This as in sex or a kid?" He asked.

"Both," I answered.

"You're completely sure? Because if you want to back out that's completely-"

"Michael, I swear to fucking God if you don't hurry up and fuck me I'm gonna get you pregnant, see how you like-"

Mike scrambled off the bed, grabbing my ankles and pulling me roughly to the edge. I let out an involuntary yelp, giggling as he spread my legs wide and high, his lips and teeth pressing against my left ankle before quickly trailing downwards, biting and sucking quickly as he moaned wantingly.

"Eager?" I asked him lightly. He shoots me a look, biting down particularly hard on a spot almost under my knee before beginning his work on the inside of my thigh. His hand trailed up and down my right thigh, grazing his nails against my skin to make me shiver while he focused his mouth on the other.

"You taste delicious," he moaned, teeth sinking into my thigh as his nails dug in harshly, raking down until his hand came near my hips before raking back up to my knee. "Whatever soap you're using, keep using it."

I blush, moaning gently. My hips rolled towards his head, making him chuckle.

"Be patient," he chided.

"I am patient," I said defensively.

"Since when?" He asked, biting down on a new spot. I moan again, squirming against him as I felt a surge of warmth shoot from my head straight to my cunt. "Anytime I so much as look at you, you beg me to fuck you."

"That's not true," I said. His hand slaps my thigh, grabbing it roughly as he bit down once more, lower.

"Made me fuck you on the table last night just because you couldn't focus on your book," he tisked. "Now you're making me fuck you because you want a baby."

"You want one too," I reminded him.

"I want anything with you," he moaned against my skin. "Especially anything that makes you mine."

My hands stretch above my head, my fingers woven together. Mike's eyes caught on something, staring at my hand as his mouth drew closer to where I wanted it.

"Your ring looks so pretty," he moaned. "Love seeing you wear it. So glad I bought it. Love seeing people notice it on you."

"Yeah?" I asked. I tried to squeeze his head with my thighs, but his hands keep me open, even spreading my legs wider after my attempt.

"Remember that kid at the bar?" He asked, chuckling. The 'kid' in question had been in college, clearly drunk as he leaned against the bar next to me while I'd waited for Mike, who'd watched the interaction curiously from the window outside, asking if it hurt when I fell from heaven. A simple flash of my ring and the response of having someone catch me before I hit the ground sent him stumbling away to disappear once more into the crowd. "Poor fucker looked so disappointed," Mike said, sucking a dark spot into my thigh, making me squirm and throw my head back in pleasure.

"You like being possessive," I teased him. His hand smacked my thigh once more.

"I'm not the one who came and shoved her tongue down my throat when the bartender got a little too flirty for her taste," he said. His eyes sparkled, fingers massaging the spot tinged red from the abrasion.

"I did not shove my tongue down your throat," I said defensively.

"You pulled my hair like I was a bitch," he laughed. His hot air blew against my clothed cunt, making me gasp from stimulation. He picked up on this, blowing cold air against me before saying "She was just trying to get tipped."

"I know," I moaned. "I'd had a couple."

Mike licked at my covered pussy, flattening his tongue wide against me as he licked a long, hot stripe from bottom to top, sucking at my clit through the wet cotton once he reached it. I moaned into the pillow beside me, muffling my cries. His hand reached up and snatched it from me, throwing it off the bed as he repeatedly licked, gaining speed as his dark eyes watched me.

"Okay, maybe we're both possessive," I conceded, bucking my hips against his face. He hummed happily, his large hands cupping my asscheeks and lifting my hips higher off the bed as he squeezed the cool flesh.

"I like it," he said. "Like that I won't even have to do anything to show you're mine now after this."

I feel my stomach flutter at his words, a blush dusting my cheeks.

"It may take a couple tries," I tell him.

"We've got all night," he said breathily.

"Until Abby calls," I reminded him. He groaned at that. "She's not gonna call, we both know that," I laughed.

"Not my problem right now," he said. His fingers hooked around the band of my underwear, pulling them away from me harshly. "You are."

"A problem?" I said in mock offense. "Well, I guess if that's what I am, I'll take my goods elsewhere." I huffed haughtily, twisting away from him and turning onto my stomach. The motion helped Mike bring my underwear to my ankles as I began to crawl away. He tugged them off fully, then grabbed my ankles once more to return me to the edge of the bed. I yelped once more, grabbing at the sheets and dragging them down with me. Mike spread me open once more and immediately shoved his tongue as deep inside of me as he could, holding my hips up and legs open as he tongue fucked me in earnest. I cried out, grinding my hips against his face. I clutched a pillow to my face, crying and even screaming into it when his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking harshly at just the right spot to make me cum with barely a warning. Mike had been pleased as punch when he figured out just the right angle the very first time. It was his favorite, throwing me into orgasm without any preparation to strike me dumb and overstimulated. There were times he'd focus on my clit for what felt like hours, tugging and licking to figure out what made me cum the fastest, the hardest, sometimes even managing to make me paint his face, and once his hair. He grinned so wide I almost thought his face would split open when he accomplished that.

He pulled away from my cunt for just a moment, his voice deep and commanding. "Let me hear you," he said. He buried himself in my cunt once more. I could feel his jaw moving, his bottom lip moving against my clit as his tongue slipped in and out, creating lewd, nasty noises that filled the air. I moaned into my pillow, hardly able to think. His hand smacked my ass hard before he pulled away once more. "Don't make me ask again, woman."

I raised my head to say something, but the words escaped me as I felt his tongue dive in once more, curling to scoop my slick into his mouth. He moaned at the taste, his hand roughly grabbing at my ass. All that spilled from my mouth were long, broken moans as I fucked his face, gutturally pleading for more. He flipped me onto my back roughly before spreading the lips of my soaked pussy apart, attaching his lips quickly and sucking at that perfect spot. I screamed, shrill and high as though I'd been stabbed while he giggled in excitement against me. The vibrations of his voice against my clit sent me higher, my head digging against the sheets as my back arched high away from the bed. My hands slapped against the bed, my legs trembling as I rode his face. Lost to the world, Mike is the only thing that grounds me, his fingers gently tracing patterns against the insides of my thighs while he watched me come undone with nothing but love and pride in his eyes.

He didn't relent, releasing my clit to lap up my glistening cum eagerly before returning to the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue against it before sucking it once more, bringing me back to the same edge as I begged for mercy.

"Gonna scream, gonna scream, gonna-" my harsh whispers turned into a scream once more as I cum again, my hands finding his dark curls to force him to stay against me, my hips grinding harshly to fuck my clit into his mouth properly. His eyes relaxed, looking completely lovesick as I muttered rapid praises to him, tugging on his hair hard enough to make his eyes water. He moaned seemingly with no control against me, face red as he obeyed with no complaint.

"So good," I tell him. "Taking me so well. Letting me fuck your face like I own you. Fuck my face."

I felt his fingers find my entrance, slipping two inside of me with no hesitation as cum dribbled out of me. I clenched around his digits, my voice breaking as he massaged my top wall, searching inside of me to help me find a new peak. He moaned against my clit, eyes wide and begging for more as he watched me carefully. When his fingers brushed against that perfect spot, the one that makes me fall silent, he knows he's struck gold. His fingers begin slamming into my g-spot, curling and fucking me until I screamed out one more time, my body going limp as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. It's like I speak in tongues, the only language I'll probably ever be able to speak again after what he's done to me. I shake terribly as he sucks a few more smaller orgasms out of me, milking me for all I'm worth before pulling away, standing tall and chuckling as he slipped his middle and ring finger into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. His face and chest are covered with me, the shine of his gold ring dulled from the dried cum. He pulled his soaked shirt off of himself, flinging it into a corner before walking around to the side of the bed, gently sitting down next to my head to stroke my forehead.

"You okay?" He asked gently, smiling proudly. I moan in response.

"Need some water?" He asked, leaning closer to press a kiss to my cheek. I can smell myself on him, thick and heady. I moan again, trying to nod but unable to. "Maybe a snack?"

At that I grab at him, pulling him closer to press his lips against mine. He allowed it, humming happily against me as he gives me a gentle kiss, loving and careful as though I could break easily. I probably could.

I whined when he pulled away, but I'm instantly sated as he scooped me into his arms, pulling me against his chest to rest us properly against the headboard of our bed. He leaned over to open a drawer on his nightstand, pulling out one of the water bottles we kept in there. Carefully he moved me into a better sitting position, then opened the bottle and held it against my lips.

"Drink," he said softly. I accept it, gulping the cold liquid as my senses begin to return to me one by one. "Good girl."

Once I finished he placed it on top of the nightstand, then held me to his chest once more to lay against the bed.

"Good warm-up?" He asked me.

"Not entirely sure that didn't do the trick right there," I said. My voice is rough, threatening to break with each word. Mike laughed loudly, his chest rumbling against my ear.

"That good?" He asked, smiling widely.

"I'm ruined for anyone else," I told him. His fingers grazed my jaw, tilting my face to meet his eyes.

"Good."

His lips are gentle as they guide me back into a kiss. It's me who deepens it, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck, silently pleading for him to continue. He takes the hint, one hand holding the back of my neck to keep my mouth close, the other trailing down my chest, fingers making quick work of the clasp on the front of my bra. He pushes the item away, cupping my right breast gently as his thumb gently strokes across my nipple, making it harden underneath his calloused touch, making me gasp.

"So sensitive," he remarked, smirking. "Could do anything to these and you'd be my willing bitch. Such a pretty girl."

I moaned eagerly into his mouth, tugging at his hair and pressing my chest against his touch. He adjusts my body, guiding me to straddle his lap properly as he guided the robe off of my shoulders, letting the material fall to my elbows. He pulled away from the kiss, admiring the hickies adorning the column of my throat.

"So pretty," he mused. His finger trailed from under my chin to the valley of my breasts, then back up again. "Do you know how pretty you are?"

"You tell me every day," I laughed softly, blushing. He hummed, his arms moving to support my upper body as he leaned me back.

"Doesn't mean you know," he said. He sucked new dark spots onto my chest, continuing his trail until it ends at the bottom of my ribcage. "Dressed so pretty for me, wearing nothing under your pretty robe. Keeping yourself easily accessible like the pretty girl you are."

It was easily his favorite nickname for me, calling me 'pretty girl' more often than my own name. Sometimes I think he only calls me by my name just to remind me he does know it, although I won't lie that I'm disappointed when he does it. The first time he called me by his favorite name was the first time we had sex. He was balls deep and panting, desperate for air as he pumped in and out of me. I think it had slipped out by mistake, based on the way his eyes widened after he said it. He was so shy in the beginning, his inexperience obvious but not damning. It was cute.

His lips trailed from the bottom of my ribcage until he found the bottom of my left breast, accenting it with little marks wherever his mouth landed.

"You want my cock?" He asked me, breath fanning over my breast. I nodded eagerly. "Use your words," he reminded me.

"Yes please," I said quietly. He laughed against my skin, nipping close to my nipple.

"Aw, she has manners," he said sweetly. I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Don't be a brat." He chided at my response. I smiled at him.

"Or what?" I asked innocently.

"Or I'll find something else to do," he said.

"Like?" I pressed.

"Like fuck myself until there's nothing left for you to take," he said smugly.

"You're no fun."

"I'm very fun, that's why you're going to behave."

"It's more fun if I don't."

At that he latches onto my hard nipple, biting and lavving his tongue over it while moaning greedily, watching me through his dark lashes as I leaned back, pressing my chest against him as much as I could, rocking my hips against his as I lost all other thought.

"There she is," he said, his voice low and gravely. "There's my girl."

He layed me down gently, spreading my legs wide open for him. He undid his jeans, taking out his cock and stroking it while he admired me from above.

"Tempted to just watch you," he said, his hand slowly trailing up and down his throbbing length. "You look so perfect, all red and dazed."

I whined, reaching for him and wrapping my own hand around his cock, stroking him at a slightly faster pace.

"There you go," he crooned. "Get it ready."

I pumped with more vigor, watching his face as I felt him twitch under my grasp. Deciding he was satisfied he gently grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head, then guided himself to my entrance.

"How do you want me, sweet girl?" He asked softly, smiling above me.

"I don't wanna remember my own name," I said quickly. "If I can walk across this room by the end of it, you need to try again."

He raised his eyebrows, smiling down at me. "Eager?" He teased.

My response is a sudden moan, my cunt clenching around his thick cock as he sinks into me, burying himself to the hilt and making me feel as though he'll split me in two.

"You're tight," he groaned in my ear. "You want it fast?"

"Yes."

He grabbed the back of my knees, pressing them to my shoulders as he pistoned in and out of me rapidly, moaning at the feeling of my cunt swallowing him eagerly, clenching at every vein, every inch, slick and desperate for his seed.

"It'll take better like this," he moaned. His jaw is slack, panting as his balls slap against my ass, heavy and making me clench with each thrust. "Been thinking about this so long.'

I tried to respond, but all that escapes me are the tongues from earlier, moaning gibberish as all I can focus on is him fucking me into stupidity.

"You'd look so pretty with a baby on your hip. My baby," he groaned. His tip finds my g-spot, making me cry out loudly.

"Right there," I chanted quickly, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"Yeah? That the spot?" He asked. "Can you hold this knee for me, baby?"

My body automatically obeyed, quickly holding one of my knees right against my body as he moved his hand to settle on my lower stomach, pressing down as he fucked me hard enough to make a small bulge whenever he slammed his dick fully into me.

"So cute," he praised. "Such a pretty fuckin' pussy. You know that?" I moan, my vision and thought completely fucked.

"I keep telling you to use." Thrust. "Your." Thrust. "Words." His third pointed thrust tears a scream from my throat, making him smile. "Does this sound like a suggestion? Because I promise you that it's not."

"I have a pretty pussy," I moaned without second thought. My voice is soft and frail as I chant the phrase over and over, not stopping even as he cooed sweet praises in my ear.

"Gonna look so pretty with my baby," he said. The smacking of our skin is loud, echoing through the room with each new thrust. "Maybe I'll give you another." His balls stick to my skin, tacky from my cum that drips out of me onto the newly washed sheets. "Just keep giving you my kids until I can't anymore. God, I hope this fucking takes."

I'm still chanting the phrase, stupid and willing to do anything so long as it means I will be rewarded with his cock. He smiled down at me, his eyes fluttering shut as my pussy swallows him whole again and again.

"Need you to cum baby," he said, his voice strained. "It'll take better if you do."

"I'm close, Mikey," I whined. It was a nickname I only used in times like these, too stupid to say his name properly.

His hand shifts lower on my belly, thumb snaking down to rub tight circles onto my hard, pulsing clit.

"Gonna make you mine. Gonna make you a mother." He is completely lost to the world, eyes shut in bliss as his thrusts grow deep and shallow, making me begin to grow quiet as I focus on my orgasm. "Jesus Christ, I love you."

A loud cry escapes me as my muscles contract around him one final time, hard enough I can tell it almost pushes him out of me completely. At the feeling of such a strong grasp Mike comes undone too, painting the inside of my cunt a pretty, pearlescent white as he unloads right next to my cervix, burying himself as deep as he can before resuming his pace with newfound vigor, moaning with every new thrust.

"Again," he moaned. His chest presses against mine, our bodies intertwined into such a tight mating press it's hard to tell where I end and he begins. "Wanna make sure it takes. Wanna make sure it takes."

I can't help but laugh in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I nodded happily, taking as much as he was willing to give me.

"I'm not gonna last long," I said, the overstimulation already turning my face red as I felt the knot in my stomach begin to tighten once more.

"Good," he growled. "I'm not gonna stop until I fucking break you."

His words send me over the edge again, my voice louder this time as I begged him to break me, to fill me, to-

Much to our immediate frustration, it turns out Abby did remember to call, making Mike yell into the bed in frustration before he slipped out of me to race to the living room, making quick work of the conversation before almost slamming the phone down in excitement, rushing down the hall once more to return to the immediate task at hand.

"Where was I?" He asked me, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he quickly climbed back on top of me.

"You were telling me you want like six kids right before damning the one we're already raising," I teased, smiling.

"Well, maybe not six," he admitted. He glanced down to my aching cunt, admiring the sight of our mixed cum leaking out before sliding his dick back inside to plug the hole. "But what's one more?"

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

This was fucking filthy. I have no apologies. Take your problems up with God, he's the one who put me on this earth.

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist ▪︎ Read the spinoff!

[iheartgod175]

Some Thoughts...

While I've still got some Zula Patrol brain rot, I've been rediscovering some old shows from Playhouse Disney (the fact that I called it that versus Disney Junior should tell you how old I am, haha XD). Special Agent Oso was one of them, and I remember watching an episode because Phil Lewis was in the series. But I didn't care for it, even though the theme song is a total bop. Then I started rewatching the episodes. And then I stumbled upon that lore video by Athena P. And then I realized I'm in too deep XD

Watching the show, I understand why folks initially disliked Oso. On one hand, his incompetence is not something a secret agent should have. On the other hand, he's a cinnamon roll. He just needs a little extra help, that's all. Not to mention that during season 2, he gets a lot more independent and competent, with his overconfidence being one of his main flaws. He's a himbo, plain and simple. That's probably why I like him.

I read that the show's creator, Ford Riley, has a son with autism and that his son's autism therapy was the main reason he implemented the "three special steps" into the show. As an autistic woman myself, I just wanted to say kudos to this guy for creating a show geared to teaching autistic children, and sorry for my initial criticism.

I also discovered that there were ships for this show: Wolfie/Dottie and Oso/Dottie. After confirming their ages (because for some reason, the Disney Junior wiki's got Dottie as an eleven-year-old while Oso and Wolfie are in their twenties--which is, uh...SUPER WEIRD O.O), my general consensus is this: Oso/Dottie is a solid "nah" for me. To me, they're more like siblings rather than a couple. Wolfie/Dottie, though...I see the vision. You've got me, folks. (I totally didn't come up with that after seeing the "One Unique Pair" video xD) If you enjoy Oso/Dottie, that's cool! I won't bite your head off for it, lol XD

If I had to pick a character I liked aside from Oso, I'd say that Wolfie is my favorite. And not just because Phil Lewis plays him. He's just too darn cool. Oh, and he has the patience of a saint.

Those dark theories are something else, though. And of course, I now want to write a story with my own spin on those dark theories. Yesterday, I spent about two hours writing up page after page of a proposed fan fic where Oso uncovers the true purpose of U.N.I.Q.U.E. and, uh...doesn't take it well. And he messes up everything for everybody so badly that outside forces (aka the Super Readers) have to get involved. To put it simply, he becomes this fic's Origami Tobiichi. (@0range-flames, this is why I had that Super Why: Infinity War joke XD)

I decided that in this story, Jack is gonna be heavily involved. Playing Revue Starlight gave me an idea of how Jack could be a fighter, heavily inspired by Fumi's Orpheus card.

Speaking of Disney Junior, I'm thinking of writing more Callie/Peck. As of last night, my Wattpad story, Time After Time, is now the number one Sheriff Callie story. That filled me with such indescribable happiness, that I felt inspired to work on a Callie/Peck one-shot for the first time in forever.

That being said, while I haven't forgotten the Disney fandom or the fans who've read this story, I'm writing this purely for free. Badgering me about updating this story (or my Wattpad story collection) will not make me write it faster. Please show some consideration for your fellow authors!

The response to the Bula/Firestorm WIP has been really heartwarming. 12 notes already?! You guys are awesome!

[poisongothgirll]

Enemies or more?

( So I watched squid game season two and, OMH gi hun and the in-ho are kinda.., and I knew I had to write a fanficton one shot again after 3 years, this is my first time I wrote a gay fanficton and I wrote this at 4 am so it could sometimes not make sense or have grammar mistakes, so I hope you enjoy, comment if you want more or one shots about specific players. Also I don’t know how to use tumblr to make my post aesthetic so forgive me if it looks weird. Have fun reading.)

After his little rebellion, Gi-Hun woke up from a deep sleep, the only thing he could remember was how his rebellion went wrong, young Ill was dead, and his best friend, murdered by the frontman himself. Gi- Hin felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, a nightmare that would never end, he felt a great hopelessness, and emptiness.

The room he was in was luxuriously furnished, almost as if someone had prepared it especially for him, the bed he was on was a luxurious king-size bed with two large pillows, the chairs and table were made of expensive leather, everything was immaculate, even shiny, while on the wall were various pictures of landscapes, animals or even buildings. The wallpaper was covered in the finest fabrics and the carpet was made of silk

In contrast to the rest of the place, this room seemed like an oasis of calm and elegance.

Gi-Hun didn't know why he was in a room like this and not in a cold and dark isolated cell in the basement of this cruel house.

He looked at his green tracksuit that was full of blood splatters from various people, remembering the horror before.

Gi- Hun was deep in thought when suddenly the door of the room opened and none other than the front man stood before him, dressed in his black suit and the cold mask that concealed his identity.

"You're awake." the voice spoke without empathy with a voice-distorted altered. „YOU KILLED MY FRIEND!" gi-hun shouted, his voice loud and a mixture of sadness, frustration and anger. He wanted to beat the man in front of him so badly that he didn't know what today and tomorrow were, but the handcuffs on his hand stopped him from moving even an inch.

The frontman just laughed coldly under his mask, and began to speak in a tone characterized without any compassion.

"He would still be alive if you hadn't tried to play the hero with your little ill-conceived plan. I thought you knew better, thought you knew the consequences of your actions. But you ignored it, you defied me, so he who will not hear must feel, Gi- Hun."

"You son of a bitch, you'll pay for this!" shouted Gi-Hun, but the frontman just laughed.

"You're lucky I let you live, for now. You're intelligent and clever. If only you had gotten on that plane, you wouldn't be in this mess now. I warned you often enough, but it seems like you missed me, like you were better off with me. You're risking your life and the lives of others just to find out who I really am, and to end the games, games you cant still end, remember one thing, it's not just me who decides, there are too many people more powerful than you and me. And you will never be able to stop them, no matter how hard you try.

Gi-Hun listened to him, thinking over his monologue for a minute until he answered.

"Oh yes, I will find out who you are, eliminate you and then end this cruel game once and for all." he hissed.

The frontman was silent for a moment.

"Eliminate me? Well that's a bit amusing don't you think? I think I'd rather eliminate you and then carry on as before, but let's change the subject, I've had enough of your thinking. So how do you like the room? I had it specially prepared for you, this room alone is worth a few million. I hope you like it," he said with a little more emotion.

Gi-Hun was shocked, for him? This room? Just by himself? He had so many questions.

The frontman saw his expression through his mask.

"Surprised, aren't you? I bet you thought I was going to put you in a dirty little cell in the basement, didn't you? But that's no way to treat guests, is it? My guests deserve to feel comfortable, even the ones who try to sabotage me," he said.

It all made no sense to Gi- Hun, why would the frontman want him to be comfortable after killing so many of his guards and causing chaos? But he found it much better than sitting in a cold dirty prison cell.

"Why? I don't understand, what do you want from me? Who are you?" asked Gi-Hun desperately.

But the front man just laughed again under his expressionless face.

"Oh Gi-Hun, you'll find out as soon as possible. I promise you that," he replied. It was almost as if he was looking forward to it. Secretly, he enjoyed his time with Gi-Hun, but he knew he could never admit it. It was too complicated for him.

Gi-Hun had a confused look on his face, he didn't know why the frontman was treating him like this, he had expected to be beaten up or shot. But the front man just sat calmly on one of the leather chairs and watched him through his mask, Gi- Hun knew for sure that he was amused by him, or was it something else? He couldn't interpret it properly. Was there something special between the two men who were actually enemies?

He would soon find out.

[askbensolo]

Wow man, a novel?! Despite the sucky job that's still super cool. Any chance we could get an excerpt, or a premise? (I'm stuck writing job applications, so we're *both* bored as hell, please, I'd welcome the distraction!) Also I'm good, thanks for asking :)

Heh. Well. I'm a little hesitant to share a whole lot about it right now—both because it's kinda personal to me, and also...because I'm super terrified I'll never actually finish it.

But, it's an autobiographical narrative, and I'm kinda just writing it as I go. It's about me...but I'm still not too sure what it's really about.

...And whether I'm the hero. Or the villain.

Maybe both.

...Sorry. I've been, uh...kind of...in my own head, lately. That's been another function of this project, for me. Processing...things...

...Anyway.

It's, well—also about my girlfriend. We're visiting each other's families this month—you know, like—announcing officially that we're dating (!!!), now—

But...that part hasn't happened, yet, in real life. So...I started out just kinda...writing about how she and I met. And it's really funny, because, what we initially bonded over was not wanting to kiss people.

So—sure, I'll share an excerpt, haha. But...you gotta remember I'm still workin' on it. And it's a little rough around the edges. And it ain't all polished up nice and pretty, just yet.

Maybe...a little bit like me.

---

Most of Luke’s students were teenagers, then. You get a bunch of teens together—stuff happens, you know? And sometimes that “stuff” is weird kissing games. And so, it was a game of spin-the-saber that brought Fannie and I together—not because we were both in attendance, but rather, exactly the opposite. 

I told you: I was homeschooled. I didn’t know what that was. And when I found out, I ran away as fast as I could, and I saw there was a light on in Fannie’s hut, so I knocked on her door, and she let me in.

“My, you look a mess,” she said, looking me over, probably seeing all the trauma on my face. “Are you alright?”

“I…yeah, I just…” I gestured vaguely behind me. “The others were…”

A look of concern crossed Fannie’s face. “Were they being mean to you?”

I shook my head. “No. Not exactly. Kind of the opposite, to be honest. One might say things were getting a little too friendly back there.”

Fannie sighed, and rolled her eyes a little, and stood up on tiptoe and let her heels fall back down abruptly. “What was it this time? ‘Never have I ever?’ ‘Seven minutes in Force heaven?’ ‘Spin-the-saber?’”

“That one. The last one. I mean, I didn’t know what spin-the-saber was! I haven’t been able to practice with a saber all this time—I thought we’d be sparring, and doing cool spinny-tricks, or somethin’—”

Fannie giggled, then, and I looked at her, shuffling my feet a little. I was afraid she was laughing at me.

“You’re not like other boys, are you?” she asked with gentle amusement, her brown eyes sparkling a little.

I interpreted this remark offensively, of course, because I’m great at that. I shot her a nasty little look. “Well, I don’t see you over there.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant; it’s not bad at all to be different,” Fannie assured me. “You’re right; I’m not over there. Why don’t you sit down? I can make us some tea.”

“Thanks. Um…I actually forgot your name.”

Fannie giggled. “I’m Fannie.”

“Oh. Right. Fannie. I’m Ben. Nice to meet you.”

And then I cringed because, well, we had already met, and she already knew my name, and oooooh owie I’m so awkward.

But she didn’t seem to mind.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled.

The tea was made. The tea was drunk. A half-hour later I was sitting on her bed while she sat on the floor and knitted (Fannie loves knitting and crocheting and other forms of making stuff out of yarn and thread).

“I’ve never liked anyone before. Is that weird?”

“Perhaps you haven’t found the right person.”

“You sound like my mom,” I groaned. “No—it’s not that. It’s not that at all. I just don’t want to be with someone, like that.”

“Ah, I see,” Fannie said. “Well—there’s nothing wrong with that. The old Jedi used to take vows of celibacy. Did you know that?”

“Yeah…I knew that,” I said, tapping my fingers rapidly against the clay mug. “But…this isn’t something I chose. I’m just…like this. I’ve always been. I don’t know why.”

Fannie was quiet for a moment. And I began to worry again that she thought I was weird.

“…I sense that this has been difficult for you,” she said finally, her voice heavy with sympathy. “To feel like you’re different from other people.”

I looked up at her. She was gazing at me with such compassion. My heart kind of…filled up. With something warm, and sweet, and achy.

“…Yeah,” I said. “Yeah…exactly.”

“Hm.” Fannie took my empty mug and set it on the little table by the door. “Well…I can’t presume to know what you’ve experienced or what you’ve gone through, Ben. But, I’ve felt different from other people, too, so I know a little of how it feels. I’m sixteen and I’ve never dated anyone, or kissed, or been kissed.”

I didn’t really know what I was supposed to say. What normal people who weren’t me usually said. That’s okay? You’ll find someone? That’s too bad?

“…Well, I’m seventeen and I’ve never done any of those things, either,” I said finally. Then I grinned. “Maybe Uncle Luke should reinstitute the celibacy rule. Then, everyone would have to be just like you and me.”

Fannie giggled. “I wouldn’t like that. I do want to be married someday.”

“Oh. You do?”

She nodded, and then after a bit I nodded back.

“Yeah, I guess can see that. I s’pose you do kinda seem like you’d end up married someday.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged, embarrassed, wondering if I was about to say something offensive. “I dunno. You just seem—kind of—like a mom.” I paused. “I mean it in a good way, this time.”

Fannie beamed. “I have become rather known as the ‘mom friend’ around here.”

I looked at her, the knitting in her hands, the mugs on the table, the kindness in her smile.

“Yeah, I can see that, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Well…I’m glad you don’t like kissing, either,” I said. “I felt like I was the only one. I don’t know. It always seemed gross to me.”

Fannie was quiet.

“What? You don’t think so?” I asked.

“…I’d…I’d like to kiss someone someday,” Fannie admitted, turning a little pink. “But…not while playing spin-the-saber.”

“Really? Why?” I asked—because I was starting to feel comfortable with her, and I’d always wanted to ask, but never felt like I could. “I just—don’t get it. It’s like—your mouths—touching each other—and germs—and spit—”

“Well, when you phrase it that way, Ben Solo, of course it sounds revolting.”

“It is revolting,” I told her, “and I’m just saying it like it is! Well, okay. Okay, okay. Would you—would you do it with tongue and stuff? ‘Cause—that’s nasty.”

Fannie turned even redder.

“Oh, my Force. You’re about to say yes.”

“It…it might be nice,” she confessed. “If…if I liked him very much, and we were very close, and—if we were married.”

“Ewwww!” I threw a pillow at her, playfully—and then I realized we didn’t know each other that well, and I didn’t know if she and I were close enough for me to throw things at her—but she only laughed.

“Goodness, let’s talk about something else now,” she said, then. “My face is burning.”

“Oh my Force, yes. Team No Kissing?” I offered her a high-five.

“Team No Kissing,” she agreed, laughing.

We high-fived. And from that moment on, we were friends.

And—we still are. I don’t think it makes us not friends just because we’re also dating now.

In fact, she was such a good friend to me, that when the thing I call my “mental health crisis” began to spiral out of control, she was the first one I went to for help...

[notherdeadrobin]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Tagged by @itsfirecat and @thesandsofelsweyr (tagged me via @thejasonandsladeagenda)

How many works do you have on AO3? 58!

What’s your total A03 word count? 257,825

What fandoms do you write for? Uhhhh DC and DC and DC lol

What are your top five fics by kudos?

✧ By Any Other Name (my first fic!) 1,056 Kudos ✧

This started from a short and sweet idea of "what happens when Jason realizes he uses the same nickname for Slade and Bruce?" I thought it'd be a dirty crack-fic one-shot, but now it's turning into an actual JaySlade getting together story, featuring some batfam feels, too. Also, Slade ambushes Jason on a rooftop and turns him into a hot mess, so that's pretty great too.

✧ Warmth 729 Kudos ✧

When Batman sliced Jason's neck open and left him for dead, Slade Wilson pulled him from the wreckage to patch up Jason's injury and his life. Jason doesn't understand why Deathstroke even bothers with him, but he's going to enjoy someone giving a damn about him while it lasts. He just wants to belong to a pack again.

✧ The Last Cookie 568 Kudos ✧

In the background of the Wayne Family Adventures webcomic, Jason Todd is hooking up with Slade Wilson. It's fact. Their growing relationship is all there in the subtext (if you squint hard enough, and make some wild guesses), and this fic illuminates the details of the story unfolding right under the Wayne Family's noses. Aka the fic where the Lazarus Pit left Jason stuck with raging hormones, and Slade's the only one who can satisfy him

✧ Two Raging Fires Meet 551 Kudos ✧

Slade takes Jason on one of his jobs to get them away from the overbearing bats. All is well for awhile, but then Slade does a classically terrible job of handling his feelings, forcing Jason to remind Slade that he's a badass vigilante who doesn't need Slade to be his keeper. Featuring Jason being soft, smart, and capable - Slade being a bit of a dumbass - and sex

✧ Parking 550 Kudos ✧

When Batman catches Jason stealing the tires off the Batmobile, Jason tries to make it up to him in the only way he knows how, but Batman isn't biting

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I have so many unreplied to comments right now and I'm so so sorry about that. I go on spurts where I'll get the number down lower, and then it'll get out of control again. I think responding is important because I know how much it means to me when people comment on my fic, and I don't want them to feel like their lovely words are going unread and unappreciated <3

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't think anything I've written would qualify for an angsty ending lol, but I rather like this one, and it's more bittersweet, at least? Living in the Moment

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Sanctuary has the softest ending (it's also one of my personal favorites ^.^)

Do you get hate on your fic? Not really, no. Or, not that I've seen, anyway/

Do you write smut? Alllll the time. SO much smut. Everywhere. 4 of those top 5 are E-rated. I think I write too much smut tbh lmaooo

Do you write crossovers? I've written two! Crossovers aren't really a default thought of mine, though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Man, I hope not

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nah. Someone did ask me, once, and I was honored to be asked, but I have weird feelings about my fic being out there on an account I have no control over.

Have you ever co-written a fic? Nah, though I'd like to give it a try ^.^ so many talented writer friends

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? Oh geez...so hard to say... I guess Jason Todd/Slade Wilson XD

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Aha the first series I ever started, but that's mainly because it's not meant to be a completed storyline, more so slices of life together. I have like, at least 10 ideas for future fics for that one.

What’s your writing strengths? I think I'm good at emotional smut, and a commenter called me "witty" recently, so that too? I'd like to be witty

What’s your writing weaknesses? finishing WIPs. Though I've already decided in advance that this next year is about finishing things. I won't let myself get distracted by prompt events or BINGO cards. I'll be all about adding more to the series I've started (hopefully finishing a couple), finishing longfics, and also working on bigger ideas that I've let fall to the wayside.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I think it's fine if it's done well and respectfully. And it is useful in situations where you want the reader to be able to translate something if they want, but you still don't want the POV Character to know what's being said.

First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter. If anyone out there used to be in the group of people who wrote Marauders Era Fanfic with OFC/Sirius Black on Quizazz (now quotev) over a decade ago, hmu

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Last time I picked something else.... but I'm watching Bridgerton rn so I'll have to go with Moonlight Symphony <3

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Vampire!Peter + Martin Whitly, Who Is The Real Monster, discussion prompted by rewatching Frankenstein because I am thinking many frankenstein thoughts always these days?

Absolutely hilarious that you sent me a prompt involving Frankenstein cause I was gonna rewatch a video tonight discussing the novel/Junji Ito manga version of it cause it's October and that means horror classics.

But I'll watch that later, I've got a one-shot to write.

On with the fic!

--

Peter shifted about on the couch, trying to make himself more comfortable without spilling his drink. Sure, he could put it on the table, but... nah. He just gave up and flopped on Martin's thighs and wiggled a bit.

"Really? All that for you just picking my lap, as usual?" Martin asked, though not sounding all that offended.

"Yep." Peter replied, loudly sipping from the silly straw in his cup. His attention was on the screen, watching as Victor Frankenstein moved about, talking about his creation, which was going to be brought to life shortly. "Hey, Martin, I've got a question."

"I'm sure you do."

"Why do people always call Frankenstein a doctor when the idiot never actually finished school?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like," Peter shifted to make himself more comfortable, "the book has it where he's still in college, basically. And this is a project he's working on in his fuckin' house, that he shares with other people!"

Martin chuckled, carding his fingers through Peter's hair. "Well, many medical professionals have done experiments at home."

"Not recreating a human body!"

"Not that you know of."

Peter turned up at him, giving him a stare. Martin laughed at this. "No, I'm not included. There would have never been a good time to have a reconstructed corpse in my busy home! Jessica would have found out the moment I brought in the first body part!"

"Or Malcolm would have."

This made Martin scoff. "Oh, possibly. I bring one girl home and suddenly I find myself in a cell for twenty years because my son was a little too curious."

Peter rolled his eyes and slurped his bloody mary that contained real blood. "Still though, why do people call him Dr. Frankenstein if he never even earned that title?"

"Well, I assume it's to separate him from Frankenstein the monster."

"I guess, but that's dumb."

"How so?" Martin asked, attention now on Peter rather than the movie where the monster's body is currently being brought to life. Peter had seen this scene enough times to not bother looking at the screen.

"It's... ya know, I mean. The monster is his own person, he's not Frankenstein! He learns to speak and read later in the novel through his communications with a family, before everything goes to shit cause, whoops, he can't have anythin' nice, no thanks to that bitch Victor. He even tells his creator that he is basically his Adam. Probably why people call him that when they talk about these two."

Martin shrugged. "I suppose so, he is a rather smart human-like being, even though the movies tend to not show that."

"Ehhh... I think Van Helsing did? Can't remember, it's been ages since I've sat down and watched that one sober." Peter finished off his drink, setting the cup aside to cross his arms. "But anyway, it's so weird that the movies kinda fuck up his character."

"The monster?"

"Yeah! He's smart, he's caring, but he is also angry, which they get right. I mean, I'd be fuckin' mad at my creator for bringin' me to life and then abandoning me. Oh wait, I have! Fuck my sire! Killed that bitch. Still, like, he's human, in his own right! No need to call him the monster."

"Ah, but does this play into the common question people have about him and his creator? Who is the monster and who is the man?" Martin asked, smiling. "I remember having a discussion about this once with Malcolm, he had been reading the book in school and it had him thinking about me."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "About you?"

"Well, at this point I was in my cell, so he knew that I was the Surgeon. But at the time, Malcolm had explained to me that he saw that how I presented myself to the world and the person hidden from it, the one that was dangerous, were like Frankenstein and the monster."

"Thought you'd be more Jekyll and Hyde."

"I thought so too, but he explained it as... oh..." He tapped his chin. "Ah, yes, he said that I presented myself as this brilliant scientist, who tried to keep up a normal life, and yet I hide from the world a creation made of horrible deeds through the pursuit of knowledge. And, like Victor Frankenstein, to deal with troubling thoughts. This 'creature' I created, the Surgeon, could pretend to be human, but was still a monster, even if he knew the right ways to be human, he just wasn't one due to who he was."

Martin then leaned back, smiling. "I think my boy was overthinking it, believing that I am both the man and the monster, as both of these characters are in their own right. It still sounded Jekyll and Hyde to me, but then again, Malcolm always did find ways to relate me to more conflicting philosophies and thoughts. What a clever boy."

Peter wasn't sure what to say to that, so decided to change the subject. "Did you know only one adaptation of Frankenstein actually brings up that the eight-foot tall man is hung like a fuckin' horse?"

"Only you would go from deep thoughts of humanity to thinking about someone's groin."

"It's Young Frankenstein, in case you're wonderin'." Peter grinned.

--

Personally, I have no idea who is the monster and who is the man, both are so very, very human and I think that's the point.

*jazz hands*

And yes, Peter is correct about that last fact. Also, apparently, the Universal movie is based on a play adaptation that changed so much of the original plot.

Just some fun facts right there.

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Clarity 9

Obito took a moment to wonder at how the hell Bakashi, the Kyuubi container, and his youngest living relative had managed to end up in that dreadful Fuin woman's film.

'I don't care,' he decided viciously, stuffing popcorn in his mouth in lieu of glowering at his companion. 'I absolutely do not care at all that even now, Bakashi is spiting me by contaminating perfectly banal entertainment with his stupid big head. That's fine. I'm above that.'

Hey, there was some small bit of good out of this venture, though. Aiko seemed enthralled and got caught up in the energy of the film (at least, the parts with fighting) but she didn't say, 'oh, that blond boy is probably my brother.'

"What did you think about the fight scenes?" Aiko nudged him playfully, snicking a bit of popcorn out of the nearly empty bag on his lap (which put her hand in places it definitely should not be oh god no). She barely blinked when Obito abruptly shoved the snack over to her, used to sudden movements that made no sense to her.

"What about the fight scenes?" he tried. His honest answer; 'they make me incomprehensibly angry,' would probably just raise more questions for her.

The teenager shrugged, kicking her feet up on the seat in front of her as the lights came on and the other movie-goers stood. She was getting plenty of dirty looks for her rudeness in critiquing the film right away, but seemed barely aware. "Well, they were awfully dramatic," Aiko huffed, waving a hand in front of her face. "Wasteful, too. No ninja fights like that, with all the boring 'feelings' talk and pointing and shouting out the names of their techniques. The writing was sort of bad, but at the same time it was fun." She shrugged, making a wavery 'so-so' gesture with her hand.

'No ninja fights like that,' rang in his head mockingly. Obito stifled a Tobi-giggle, swallowing. 'Ha! So there, Bakashi. Apparently, you're not even a ninja'.

That did lift his mood a bit. Aiko had a point, he decided generously.

"If you ever meet a ninja like that," he counseled gravely, "get them while they monologue. Konoha nin do that sometimes."

He actually laughed at the appalled way her jaw dropped.

'I feel better now.'

Still, they were absolutely never going to see one of these grotesquely indulgent Princess Fuin movies again.

"And here I was thinking that we were never going to get along," Aiko chirped without looking up from the blade she was sharpening. "Yet here we are, spending time together socially. Tomorrow, I expect we'll be braiding each other's hair. The day after, we'll get friendship bracelets. I want blue and yellow on mine."

Kakuzu shot her a withering look, but didn't respond. They had been sitting in somewhat pointed silence ever since Obito left on his super-secret-not-telling-Aiko-mission.

'Peachy. Just peachy keen. Getting stuck with this guy is exactly what I wanted.' Resentfully, she scraped her whetstone with just a little more force than was habitual. 'What's Obito's deal lately, anyway? I'd rather work with Zetsu than Kakuzu. He's suddenly acting like Zetsu's going to eat me whole if he leaves us alone for ten minutes.'

Lately, Obito had been just plain fucking weird. He was terribly jumpy.

'And dramatic,' she reminded herself. 'I need to talk to you when I return from this mission,' Aiko mocked internally. 'Why not talk to me now? I don't know what he's so nervous about. Obito's been acting like he's nervous about something.'

Poor love. It'd been three days since his little fit, and he didn't seem much more stable. She didn't really want to leave him alone. He was quite possibly a danger to himself.

But telling him that she was worried about him hadn't stopped him from setting off on whatever job he had in mind. If anything, Obito had just seemed oddly guilty. The next day, Kakuzu had showed up in the safehouse with a disgruntled look, apparently under the impression that he was to babysit her while Obito was gone.

Which was just silly. It was called a 'safe' house for a reason. The only people who even knew where it was were her, Obito, Kakuzu, and Zetsu.

In other words, Obito was being really weird for no apparent reason.

'It probably wouldn't hurt to humor him by keeping Kakuzu around,' she tried to convince herself. It was annoying, sure, but not harmful.

"I need to go into town," Aiko spoke up, narrowing her eyes at her finished product as she held it up to the light. She tilted it slightly, letting reflections flash. "I'd planned on going alone to pick up some product for the next trip, but I suppose I'll have to ask you to come with."

Kakuzu offered an unenthusiastic grunt in response. She didn't mind or press. He eventually spoke up unprompted.

"When?"

"Day after tomorrow," she shared idly. She tested the sharpness of her blade on a fingertip—blood welled up instantly. Aiko made a sound of satisfaction and slipped it away, reaching for another dull kunai.

"Acceptable. Your initiative does you credit," Kakuzu admitted gruffly.

'Is he… being nice to me?'

She stilled, but didn't offer a smile or turn to look at him. Aiko was gathering the impression that Kakuzu didn't like being nice. Or at least, he didn't want to think he was kind. Calling excess attention to his statement would be unnecessarily disruptive.

"Thank you," she said carelessly. "I've been trying. There's not much challenge in the legal operations that Ando-san runs. She hasn't yet summoned up the courage to talk to me about using her organization as a cover for moving narcotics."

Aiko rather doubted that the civilian would mention a damn thing, assuming she knew. Ando-san was so twitchy. And thorough about keeping Aiko away from her son, actually. Hmm. What was that about? Aiko'd never threatened her even a little. That was all Kakuzu and that was like, forever ago. Weeks. Months, actually. Silly Ando-san.

"Narcotics are profitable," Kakuzu said approvingly. "How do you acquire your stock?"

She shrugged distractedly, working on her second blade. "I've made friends with a bartender who has a lot of contacts. We have a nice thing going on where I make troublemakers disappear, and her herbalist friend in Grass hooks me up."

There was a great deal of money to be made moving illegal substances into shinobi nations, which had a lot more restrictions and border surveillance than the other countries. Military states were just so silly about little things like recreational drugs, or medicines that hadn't been made in certified facilities, or odds and ends of counter-culture. They could afford to be selective like that, because the shinobi villages were fucking loaded (and needed to be intellectually controlled in order to maintain the hegemonic status quo). The quality of living and health care for a resident of a ninja village was so far above that of the people in outlying areas that it wasn't even funny.

That meant there were a lot of people desperate to get their hands on contraband for half the price of heavily taxed goods imported from the capitals. And Grass was a rich resource without years of infrastructure that she'd have to muscle aside to make space for herself: it hadn't been that long ago that Grass had been subject to restrictive policies itself. There was a lot of money to be made and only small fry like herself jostling for it.

"How is your accounting?"

She actually paused at that and looked over. "I don't keep hard records," Aiko admitted sheepishly.

Kakuzu looked downright appalled at that. "How do you know how much money you are making? You cannot devise strategies to improve profit and productivity without data."

"I don't really know how to go about compiling that sort of information," she had to confess. If she'd ever learned, it wasn't something that had come back to her yet. She expected it would eventually, though. She was remembering a lot of things.

The man at her side was still. Dangerously still. His voice was gruffer than usual when he managed to unhinge his jaw long enough to order, "Come. I have spare accounting books. You can have a set for two Ryo."

'That is ridiculously expensive. Like, three new outfits expensive. Twenty times what the cost should be, easily.'

Aiko gaped.

"I would suggest that you acquire your own materials upon the next time that you enter a place of business," Kakuzu said archly with an expression that was almost a smile.

"We could bump our trip up to tomorrow," she said a bit weakly.

He shook his head. "No. If I am going to get any information through that skull of yours, I must begin immediately. I have time now." He started off for the house without saying a word. "This project of yours is a superior beginning to anything that the other cretins have endeavored to undertake. Failure to improve upon it through record-keeping would be a pity."

"Oh." Aiko stood and followed, a little perplexed by Kakuzu's sudden interest and helpfulness. "So," she ventured as he extracted two small blue books from a drawer in his room. "Has no one else in Akatsuki ever-"

"Taken it upon themselves to pursue a useful endeavor? No," he said shortly. "Our previous associates were all addled simpletons."

At that point, he began muttering something angry about art and hobbies that she thought it would probably be best to pretend she didn't hear.

"What's your hobby?" she prodded. "I mean, I assume smuggling is a little pedestrian for your tastes."

Kakuzu made a noncommittal sound. "I hunt bountied shinobi. When someone else has gone to the trouble of compiling convenient lists of people whose heads they would pay for, it is a simple matter to memorize their faces and keep an eye out."

Wait. People would pay for-

"That's kinda cool," Aiko noted, morbidly interested. "Do I have a bounty?"

Her companion grunted, extracting a cheap pen and stalking out to the kitchen table. "You should. You had an unofficial one when you were a member of Konoha's military. Put out by Kumo, I believe. Or perhaps Iwa. In any case, now that you've defected, it should be replaced by an official one from your country of home origin."

'I wonder how much Konoha is willing to pay for my head…'

Well. There was a way to check that.

"Those bounties… how do you get a hold of them?"

"Your information broker would probably have a copy," he said shortly. "Now, pay attention."

Talking to Sayu was a mistake. Or at least, adding the new topic was a mistake. An unsettling one that brought up things she'd really rather not consider.

'That doesn't make any sense.'

"That can't be right," Aiko said slowly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

The short woman shrugged. A streak of something suspiciously like mud moved on her cheek when she made a face. "That's what I have, kid. Your bounty hasn't been updated in years. It's still in the sketchy book, too." She waved said volume about pointedly. It was indeed not the official copy that Aiko had spent the last few minutes rifling through unsuccessfully. "It's not a bad number," she admitted grudgingly. A speculative look crossed her face. "Maybe I should turn you in and pay off my debtors, eh princess?"

"Very funny," Aiko grunted. She was too preoccupied to really enjoy banter at the moment, grabbing at Sayu's wrist to hold the book still so she could read it. The information was interesting. Seal master? Since when was she a seal master? And—she already had the chakra chains? That was a laugh. She thought that she would know if she'd activated a bloodline that made her eyes get all weird and purple. Clearly, these books weren't that accurate. And huh. She trained under Hatake Kakashi? That name was awfully familiar.

Maybe he was in the book too.

Sayu pursed her lips and flipped the book around to investigate it. "It's a seriously old picture, too. Look at the geeky smile. What are you, twelve?"

"No," Aiko muttered resentfully. Still, she had to squint at the date on the edition and count under her breath to put it together. "Fourteen? That can't be right. That's not a picture of me at fourteen."

God, she hoped not, at least.

The older woman snorted. "Shouldn't you remember? This looks like an official picture."

She knew perfectly well that grinding her teeth together was a terrible habit. It took conscious effort to unglue her jaw. There was no way she was going to admit that no, she didn't remember the picture, or in fact much of anything.

Who cared? It didn't matter anyway. She knew all she needed to know.

'Yeah, just keep telling yourself that,' Aiko thought bitterly. 'That'll make the weirdness here go away.'

"Thanks." Aiko bent, using her legs to lift the box of goods she'd come to pick up. "I'll see you in a few weeks, hotstuff."

"Am I going to get my book back?" Sayu asked, bemused. "I kind of need that, for that job that I do. You know, people pay me for information and I hook them up, pass over IOU's and verify kills. It's not fancy, but it pays. We can't all be in a super-special club that buys the dango, princess."

Aiko paused for a moment, before realizing that she'd tucked the little hitlist under her belt. "Oh, sorry. Can I-can I pay you for it? I'd like to keep that."

Sayu sighed. "Two ryo," she listed unenthusiastically.

Aiko's eyebrows shot up. "Why don't you just hit me over the head and rifle through my pockets? Jeeze, I thought we were friends."

"We're not that good of friends." The older woman cracked a wry grin, tucking the cash away. "Those are hard to get a hold of, if you're a civilian."

That actually made some sense.

"You took long enough," Kakuzu said gruffly, walking as soon as she exited the dank little building.

"Sorry," she apologized absently. "I got caught u-"

"I don't care," Kakuzu sighed.

Aiko pressed her lips together, trying not to let her eyebrows shoot straight up on her brow. 'At least he can be counted on. He's predictable.'

She'd thought that Obito was predictable too. But this put a wrench in her perception. She wasn't stupid. What he'd told her… well, now it didn't add up.

'If Konoha knew I was a traitor, they would have put out a bounty for me.'

Ergo, Konoha didn't know she was a traitor. Either they were spectacularly ignorant, or they knew something she didn't. That didn't fit with what Obito had said.

Wait. Don't get emotional. Don't be hasty. Think it through. Aiko licked her lips, attempting to consider every angle.

'I don't have all the information,' Aiko knew. 'I can't rule out either extreme: that Obito was telling the complete truth, or that he was completely lying. Not without more information. I can't think of a reason that Konoha wouldn't have put out a bounty on a missing nin, but that doesn't mean there isn't one. I need more data.'

Of course, getting the needed data would be very difficult while she was being watched (and how did it just now seem suspicious that Obito hardly ever left her out of sight, and needed to know where she was, and checked up on her? For all she knew, he or Zetsu kept an eye on her whenever she went off 'alone')

'I'm an idiot. I wouldn't know. They're both much better at hiding than I am at detection, and I haven't even been looking for watchers of their caliber. And now I can't check. If they have been watching me and I just now start looking, they'll want to know what's changed. That'll lead them to Sayu.'

"Hurry up," Kakuzu graveled out. "You're falling behind."

'It'd be a little faster if you helped carry. This is what, thirty pounds? That'd be nothing to a big guy like you,' Aiko thought resentfully, her bad mood spilling over to her current companion.

She didn't bother to apologize, focusing on moving and pushing her pace a little. Her arms were shaking and in outright muscle pain by the time they returned to the safehouse. She really should take the time to catalogue what she'd just brought and store it safely.

Aiko didn't care about that at the moment, so she dropped the box on the kitchen table and went to her room, barely hearing Kakuzu mutter about moody teenagers.

She locked the door and settled on her bed, desperate to put together a picture. All the time that Obito spent training her took a somewhat sinister cast when she wondered if he intended to use her rather than use her skills. Perhaps it was pathetic, but the nuance mattered a lot to her.

Shinobi were tools, in a way, yes. Aiko didn't mind being a valuable resource for reasons other than her intrinsic value as a person. That was different from just her skills being useful.

Then again, if what he was looking for was just a useful tool, it would have been stupid to pick her. There had to be people out there who would require less investment—she'd had to be retrained in her apparent specialties of mid-range weaponry, for kami's sake. No. It wasn't just her skills Obito was interested in. It was her; it had to be her.

'I don't want to believe that Obito lied to me.' Aiko rolled over onto her side and hugged a pillow to her chest. 'Or at least, not about the important stuff. I… I don't think he did. He really does like me. We're friends. He didn't lie about that. I can't totally distrust my own perception. He definitely does enjoy spending time with me, and he wouldn't spend so much time with me if he didn't care. He'd pass me off on someone else.'

So if she kept the assumption that Obito wasn't lying about feeling friendship with her, that left her with two options to extrapolate from. A. He had formed those feelings recently, after she had joined him in recent memory. B. They had been friends before what she remembered.

'Think it through, girl,' Aiko told herself, tugging on a bit of hair. 'Does it matter which of those two things is true? If so, why, and what difference would it make to my prospective course of action.'

Her intellect told her that it mattered. If he had only come to care about her in recent months, then that meant that he hadn't cared about her at the time that she remembered 'meeting' him in the hospital. That meant that whatever he had wanted from her at that time had not been coming from a place of concern for her best interest. If he had just been tricking a sick, confused girl into coming with him, then Aiko should be frightened, or at least interested in what he wanted from her.

Whereas if he had been emotionally attached to her before she remembered meeting him, that possibility seemed much less likely.

'Is friendship the only way to look at it, when the issue is better summed as emotional attachment?' She rolled over onto her back and dug her heels into the bed, pouting unconsciously. 'He would already have been emotionally compromised if he's telling the truth about being my dad's student. That would be much easier to verify than whether or not I really was secretly meeting Obito and narking on Konoha.'

How hard would it be to figure out who Obito's sensei was? He might fork over the information, and she could cross-verify it. Student-teacher relationships were probably well-documented somewhere, and someone somewhere would be willing to accept money for handing over information that seemed innocuous enough.

She felt a little better, having decided what she would accept as evidence that Obito had been emotionally compromised before eight months ago. Assuming that panned out, she could be reasonably certain that he wouldn't hurt her and hadn't planned to.

Of course, Obito could thwart that plan by refusing to tell her about his sensei, but she doubted that. He'd had much looser lips lately, though that might be due to his instability and emotionally compromised state than trust.

Those loose lips presented another plan: he'd let the name of his teammates slip. Assuming 'Kakashi' was still alive: well, that name couldn't be common. She could look up his sensei and teammates and verify Obito's story that way.

Actually… She twisted just enough to tug the book out of her waistband and rolled onto her stomach to flip through it. Obito hadn't said anything to make her think that his old teammate had defected, so he should be in the Konoha section if he was still active. She frowned when she didn't find anything under 'Kakashi', but some bit of stubbornness caused her to keep looking until she ran into 'Sharingan no Kakashi.' She huffed.

'That sounds about right, actually. Lines up with what Obito said and collaborates why Obito isn't with Konoha anymore, in a way. He's gotten famous off of Obito's eye? That's a little depressing.'

Really famous, apparently. He looked like that actor- no, that was backwards. The cute extra in that Princess Fuin movie had definitely been modeled off of him. That kind of resemblance was not an accident.

She shrugged off the tangent about his apparent presence in pop culture for more productive lines of contemplation. There was nothing listed about Sharingan no Kakashi's teammates, but his sensei had been—Namikaze Minato, the fourth Hokage? Aiko let out a low whistle. Nice. That was her dad? Hopefully, she bent the corner and went looking, but of course there wasn't still a page for the Yondaime. He was long dead.

'That's another thing I could check,' she decided. 'If I see a picture of him, I might be able to see any family resemblance. If I look enough like him, then Obito's been telling the truth.' Aiko paused thoughtfully, biting on her lip. 'Well, at least some of it.'

Aiko felt a little better as she calmed and worked through the logic, probably more content than she should feel. She now had an idea of what she wanted to investigate and several plans for how to get that information. Finding out whether or not she'd been lied to for over half a year wouldn't be impossible. She could do it.

But… god forgive her: despite what her brain told her, she had a hard time really believing that it made a difference if Obito had kidnapped and tricked her as opposed to being her friend rescuing her from Konoha's clutches.

It might be different if she had any reason to viscerally feel the betrayal. But she didn't. Aiko remembered bits and pieces from before Obito, but that was it. She didn't feel an emotional connection. So he just seemed more real to her than people she might have known in Konoha. Who cared if there were people out there missing her, if she didn't miss them?

That sounded awful, even in her head. But what would happen if she decided that Obito had kidnapped her and ran to Konoha? Even if she made it—and what were the chances of making that long trip, when she was watched— what would it be like to find herself in a place she didn't really remember, with people who had expectations and fond memories of her? What would they want from her—was she even the same person, in an appreciable sense, and would she measure up to what they wanted? Would they hold any changes against her?

'I'm getting overly defensive about the imagined reactions of people I don't remember.' Aiko huffed a little laugh, bringing the pillow on her chest up to cover her mouth. 'I'm ridiculous. I'm emotionally compromised, aren't I? Still. I feel like my life is here. I have hobbies, I have a friend, I have a job, and I have a- what the hell is Kakuzu, anyway? Is he friend number two?'

He probably wouldn't agree, but she thought that he was. So, yes. Friend number two.

That had a good ring to it. She grinned into her pillow. 'So, that's an emotional reason to stay. This is terrible form to come up with logical reasoning after I'm leaning towards a decision, but I still think my logic is sound in that I couldn't leave anyways. Obito checks up on me if I'm so much as a day late, which could indicate concern for my well-being just as much as it could be an attempt to keep me from running off. I wouldn't get very far if I tried to leave—not without help, which I appear to have no way of obtaining. So, following through that I have no apparent pressing need to escape… that seems like a lot of risk for low potential benefit. I can re-examine the issue if it seems that I am in danger or if additional resources present themselves, but as of now I seem to be both stuck and unmotivated to change my position.'

In other words, she'd pretty well concluded that without any game-changing information, she wasn't going to do anything drastic.

There was really only one question left, but Aiko had no idea to answer it. She couldn't help but feel that… Well. Now that she'd basically decided that Obito had probably lied to her in some capacity, shouldn't she resent him? Resentment would be one reason to leave, if only to spite him.

She couldn't muster up the emotion, however. It seemed dishonest to get huffy and indignant. If it suited her purposes, she'd do worse than convince an amnesiac that they were friends. Aiko had done worse. On her very first mission, she'd inadvertently led a man to his death and not lost a night of sleep over it.

(That would have been impossible. The nightmares already kept her up, or at least they had at that point. They were losing their effect now that their brutality was a bit passé.)

Aiko and Obito were shinobi, and that meant they were hired killers (and therefore not the greatest people already). Whining about a lie seemed a bit petty at that point. Although that didn't mean she had no sense of morality or things she wouldn't do. There had to be a line somewhere, of course, or else they'd just be gibbering loonies. No- not loonies. They'd be like wild dogs that needed to be put down, and not really people. Something separated even shinobi from mindless animals.

That line seemed like loyalty—to her chosen companion, at least, if not a cause or ideology.

'And I suppose I've chosen my side. Obito's been good to me. I want to stay with him.'

The thought of leaving him alone… Well, it made her sad.

He wasn't well, after all. Kakuzu was surprisingly decent, but there was no chance in hell that he would look out for 'Obi if Aiko took off. He just wasn't the touchy feely type.

Besides, if he had tricked her… He'd done a damn good job, actually, and she could appreciate the artistry there. From a professional standpoint, if nothing else.

'So,' Aiko decided firmly. 'If I find out that Obito was telling the truth, and I am therefore in little danger from him, I'm staying.'

The corollary being, of course, that if he didn't have her best interest in mind, she was going to run screaming in the opposite direction.

It was good to have that all figured out. Especially since it was Wednesday, Obito should be coming back soon for the weekly accounting paperwork party. (Obito called it a 'meeting', but Kakuzu had approved the name change). Anyway, she was just going to act normally.

His cycas revoluta were hardy and lush this year. Zetsu fancied that he could smell hints of the toxic sap as a break of new leaves was beginning to erupt from the base of the plant, but it was his imagination. They were beautiful, though, and this specimen was a fine plant that had been flourishing for hundreds of years. Convincing bees to pollinate had been a fuss that required other, more traditionally decorative plants to be relocated nearby, so he was well invested in the project. He carefully removed a pup, ready to transfer it to soil of its own. Beautiful.

Zetsu stopped his work when he heard the crackle of Obito's holographic communication jutsu, swiveling out of the sand to face the much younger being.

Black Zetsu might have snarled if it had possessed features at the moment. The child was a necessary tool in order to revive his mother, but taking orders from one so transparent and short-sighted did grate occasionally.

White Zetsu had no such thoughts, nor was he aware of the reasoning behind his companion's derision. If he had, he probably would have gotten in the way.

"As it turns out, it's a good thing that you put those spores on the girl."

"Oh?" the wood-clones asked in unison. They had already known that: the point had been to force Obito to finally commit to a course of action. That was transparently a beneficial course of action.

The image of their supposed master flickered. "Yes. I'll contact you telepathically when Aiko uses her chakra chains. Use up the spores draining her chakra to about 10%, but do not allow her to realize that the drain is being caused by anything but the activation of her genetic birthright. Time it so that she loses consciousness as soon as possible, before she has a chance to realize that her eyes are not changing naturally. I will bring you to her and conduct the surgery at that point."

"There are worse plans," Black Zetsu acknowledged.

It was a neat solution. Almost suspiciously neat, coming from someone with such dramatic flair. If efficiency had been Obito's du jour tactic, then his chosen aliases would not have been so ridiculously flamboyant. There would also have been no superfluous waste of Amegakure, Otogakure, and Mizugakure, countries that had all been under his indirect control at one point. World domination had been in the grasp of one man, and he'd carelessly tossed it aside in favor of pursuing a dead man's ambition for a genjutsu that only Kaguya could truly master.

(It was mildly entertaining that one man who was dead to the world could have so much power and use it so poorly).

The projection nodded, shadows covering the curved mask. "Oh, and Zetsu? Don't undermine my decisions again."

With that, the Uchiha cut short the technique and flickered out of sight. White Zetsu huffed. "It wasn't me," he pouted.

Black Zetsu didn't bother to respond.

At least Obito was making progress towards the ultimate Tsukyomi, in the defective and faltering way that Obito accomplished anything. As soon as that was cast, Black Zetsu wouldn't need him any longer. Kaguya would be revived and the worlds made anew.

If there was a problem, Black Zetsu couldn't see it. He might have suspected Obito's stalling was a hint that he'd become attached to the sacrifice, but that didn't seem to be in Obito's character. If that was going to happen surely he would have shown signs of that weakness in relation to one of the Akatsuki members in the past years.

He unclenched his hand, letting the pup that he'd crushed fall to the ground. White Zetsu made a mournful sound, but no comment.

[blackberry-mochi]

【100回嘔吐】 もう生きてるだけで褒めて頂戴 2024 (English lyrics)

cw: gaslighting, suicide

My life feels so goddamn empty. Everyday is so monotonous; just work, and eat, and sleep. There's no chance for me to be happy. This pain is nothing special, though, ha.

Why are things like this? I guess I deserve this. But it's hard to not feel cheated and betrayed.

My life's a pathetic disaster, so why the hell am I still trying?

Well, that 'cause one day I'll be saved, I'll be scooped away, all I have to do is just wait.

Find someone I love, find a fuller life.

I want that. I need that. And I deserve all that, you know.

You know.

I deserve better than this.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

NONE OF YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME, YOU ALL HATE ME!! I KNOW THAT THAT'S THE TRUTH, AND GOD IT FUCKING TEARS ME APART!!

BUT POSSIBLY, DEEP INSIDE OF ME, THERE'S SOMETHING EVERYONE WANTS!!

SO PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME, THAT YOU VALUE ME!! COME ON, LIE, LIE, LIE, OR ONE DAY I MIGHT JUST DIE!!

Wait, no, sorry! Please, ignore me!

We both know words are cheap, so nothing you could say would ever help, right?

My persona's so goddamn ugly. My mood is inconsistent, there's too much wrong with me. I probably deserve a lobotomy. With that, I'd never act up again.

WHAT A JOKE!!

Oh yeah? What's that? You really, truly think that my life's not so bad? Sorry if it's annoying, but I can only complain. Just block me, please, and go away.

But you know, I need company, I feel too lonely, yet I'm doing all of this, huh.

It's clear hypocrisy, but you're just like me.

Here, look, here, at your heart, amanojaku are in both of us.

All of us.

We're only human, you know.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Everyone! You're so ugly! Just like me! No matter how much you try to hide it, it's clear to see! But unlike me, you're far too willing, to have a false identity!

And, you know, I really hate that! It tears me apart! I know that deep inside your heart, something's just begging to cry out!

You realize that,

RIGHT!?

THE WHOLE WORLD HATES US, NOBODY LOVES US!! WE KNOW THAT THAT'S THE TRUTH, AND GOD IT FUCKING TEARS US APART!!

BUT I'LL HEAR YOU OUT, SO PLEASE VOMIT OUT ALL YOUR HATE AND LOVE AND PAIN!!

YEAH I KNOW, IT FEELS UGLY, BUT IT'S OKAY!! GO ON AND RETCH, RETCH, RETCH!! VOMIT ALL OF IT AWAY!!

See, see, deep inside, you're amazing!

We both know words are cheap, but in your earnest voice, I sense beauty!

So please, just like me, keep going on and on for us all!

You know, this sucks, it's impossible to think that I should be alive at all. Even so I hope that you value some part of me.

I'll catch you later, yeah?

(Weird rambling beneath the "keep reading", beware etc)

So, I wrote some English lyrics to this song I really like, because I wanted to, because the song is really good. I finished writing these a while ago, and I don't think they're really worth much just being posted plainly like this, but I'd rather do that than throw them away, so here they are, messy as anything messy can be.

I had planned on making a proper cover of this and drawing a little animation to go with it, and I certainly gave it a good shot, sorta. I wrote the first draft of the cover and started singing them while adjusting the parts that felt off, until I ended up singing the entire song front to back with multiple takes that felt "right", but then I hit the current minuscule limit of my motivation, I guess. I can't learn anything new right now, and learning how to sing earnestly for the first time ever as well as how to adjust/master vocals was toooooo much. So, here's the lyrics instead of an actual cover, because I don't want to throw it away.

Anyway, I worked on this because, wow, listening to this remix for the first time really just blew me away, which I wasn't expecting at all, which is kind of annoying. 100kaiouto/Vomiting 100 Times is the only VocaloidP I've ever followed (besides GYARI but GYARI is GYARI), and, unfortunately, I really don't like any of the stuff they made post-2020. All of it sort of feels lifeless and indistinct compared to their earlier works, as blunt and rude as it is to say that. And I assume that's because of this damn song, the 2017 original. I was following them before they released the original version of this song and randomly went pretty damn viral, and… god, this song. So many thoughts and opinions and repercussions, maybe.

I obviously don't know how 100kaioutou themselves feels about it, but I can only imagine it sort of wore them out when they saw that this was their most popular song, considering the fact that they released NANIMONO a bit afterwards, a song that they very clearly were extremely proud of, evidenced by the fact that they very quickly made a self-cover of it after releasing it, and yeeeeet, it really wasn't the song that people cared about. Sure, it has around 750K views on YouTube right now, which isn't too piddling compared to the 2017 version of this song's 3.1M, but god was it a bit sad to watch them post the NANIMONO self-cover and then post the self-cover of this shortly after, and it's all the more worrying now that they've gone and deleted all of their self-covers (I thought they were really, really cool; I don't know why they were taken down, but I sincerely miss them).

I'm not going to assume much more, here, though. Whatever 100kaiouto's doing, I wish them the best. But god do I love this remix, that's my point. I don't like anything after 2020, but I love this remix. That's statistically unsurprising, yeah, considering how this is easily one of the top-three most-listened-to songs by them for me, between its instrumental, self-cover, and plain ordinary version. I really love this song!! But then. I mean. Uh. To go on a tangent, as if this entire rant isn't already a tangent, god do I hate this song's lyrics.

Anybody that knows the original translation of this song's lyrics will probably be able to tell that this interpretation is a bit a lot liberal in its message or whatever. I personally consider it a bastardization. But god I hate the original lyrics!! The moment somebody finally translated them back in 2019 or so, I immediately was just like "oh this isn't surprising but I don't like it at all". Celebrating being alive because living is hard, especially in a cynical way, is just so… annoying and meaningless to me. So, these bastardized lyrics instead. I doubt anybody's even gonna really come across this and scrutinize it, but, y'know, I want to scrutinize myself. I feel a bit guilty about it. But y'know. Also. In 2024? After 7 years of whatever shit 100kaiouto's been going through, artistically, mentally, generally? I want to think that they'd change this message, somewhat. It is, after all, from my point of view, a song that shifted the trajectory of their career pretty hard, and, given that it was their first time writing a song like this, I personally think it deserves some amount of change. Not necessarily "improving", but a shift of some sort.

Anyway, that's me applying my own weird assumptions and opinions to a song that I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about that I arbitrarily want to apply to the artist as well, because something about it just feels wrong and cruel to me as an outsider looking in and following this artist right after they released a song about having trouble communicating and connecting with people in a light-hearted but far-too-real way. Kinda weird to go from that to "it's way too hard to be alive, we all know it, we're all deserving of praise for being alive", but 100kaiouto's pedigree is all over the place, and that's part of the reason I've always been a fan of them. Sure, I can't understand most of their songs because they're just too small to have people consistently localize their songs (it took a damn year for their most-popular song to get a translation!!), but every song is special and different and has its own vibe, and that vibe is something you can feel regardless of the language barrier, and god do I love their vibes a majority of the time, until 2020, when everything still maintained its uniqueness, but, I dunno, nothing feels alive anymore.

That's all to say, I love 100kaiouto. I hope they're doing well these days, following this perfect remix, a remix that fully upgrades an old song that I love, which meant god did listening to this remix both terrify me (upon seeing it, because I haven't liked their more recent stuff) and amaze me (after listening to it). The original track has the same momentum/intensity throughout its entire length, outside of the bridge, and the bridge is damn good, but god is the progression in this remix so poignant and amazing to me. Starting quiet and muted and tired, slowly getting more and more agitated, leading to a bridge that's really just calling out earnestly, and crescendoing in a final, intense, upbeat chorus that, to me, oozes with all kinds of guttural and real emotions. It's perfect.

In terms of finer details of this "localization" that I'm worried about, if anybody ever actually tried to do a cover with these lyrics, uh. If you don't know what an amanojaku is, look at Seija Kijin and study her, that's an amanojaku, a youkai that embodies the behavior of knowingly refusing to do what you're told/what's best for you, to the detriment of yourself and everybody around you. And then also uh sorry that the syllables here don't really match 1:1 with the original vocals, especially at the line "ALL YOUR HATE AND LOVE AND PAIN!!". I do know all of this is at least singable, at least. Hopefully. Because god do I not know how to sing and had to adjust a lot of lines to compensate for my inability to enunciate a lot of things. It should be fine, because of that. But sorry if it isn't.

Also, sorry about the nature of these lyrics. We sure do apply present thoughts and worries to art, don't we. I hazard to really call this art, though, since the effort/result here is pretty insubstantial, but it's art in some way.

[archivehotties]

immaculate - 3.5/5

i decided i'm gonna do more in depth movie reviews here (let's see how long that lasts LMAO), i used to do longer reviews on my letterboxd but idk doesn't seem as fitting? i can insert other photo stuff here so i'd rather here then. also spoilers ahead fucking duh

i watched immaculate tonight! my thoughts before this movie were 1, i love sydney sweeney but for a hot minute right now i felt like she wasn't being taken seriously. euphoria was one of my favorite shows and i loved her in the first season, but since then it felt like people were overly sexualizing her and not taking her seriously as an actor which blows bc she's honestly talented! and can show real emotional depth!!! so i really wanted her to hone that into a full blown artsy kind of horror movie because, as i saw in the movie, she's very scream-queen worthy.

i will admit i am very biased to religious horror. is it because i was raised catholic Yes. is it because i like looking at the pretty gold colors because catholicism is really good at making things look badass Yes as well. have i rewatched wendigoon's long video explanation of dante's inferno over and over Yes absolutely. Regardless!!!! this is just a bias i need to address to the readers beforehand before any of u fucking yank my chain

i did not expect to be as into this movie as i thought i was gonna be, honest to god i went in thinking this was probably gonna be disappointing and sydney probably didn't get a good enough writer and it was gonna be as boring as idk the nun movie in the conjuring franchise. just jumpscares. the writing was honestly not that bad though, though i will say that sydney kind of fell off her mark sometimes. especially at the start it kind of didn't feel as authentic as i wanted, but maybe that's because it felt weird to hear her euphoria high american accent while she was surrounded by italian nuns and priests. some of the creepy elements felt kinda cheesy like oh wow the creepy patient says she can never leave womp womp. like find something more interesting to say.

cinematography soooo good. really liked it, also i am again biased to italy because i love italy and it's my dream vacation place. there were some shots that were framed sooo good like when she goes to confession, the ending scene in particular was really good. i really like the choice of it not being filmed from the usual third person pov and it being from the baby's (?) or just it being right below sydney and she is just yelling her fucking heart out with blood all over her face. so good. i was smiling and clapping good for u girl!!!!!!!!!!

i also liked that it was done in chapters so they went like per trimester of the baby, it was really fun to see in that way. i liked the themes, it didn't feel like a Fake church u know? again i compare it to the nun movie from the conjuring series where it's like ... it doesn't feel like they got dressed up in nun outfits. they're just ... nuns. doesn't feel like a set, which is good.

a concern again i had for this movie was that it was gonna be too jumpscare-y-- at some times it was, but honestly that's too be expected. i really liked the idea of her having to escape from the convent over and over again and just how creepy the other people in the church were, though i will admit the "we tried to make the next savior and i'm a mad scientist" bit was a little ... meh. i'd prefer if they leaned into that whole secret cult thing they had going on. or if it was a carrie/rosemary's baby moment where she was carrying the devil's baby.

another concern i had was, looping back to what i said about sydney, i had watched the trailer beforehand and i was scared it was gonna oversexualize her because soo many of the shots they chose were like centered around her body? which i mean makes sense now that i know the plot, but it didn't feel sexualized at all, which makes me happy :) sydney has lots of potential !

thematically and in cinematography sense, it reminded me a lot of the vvitch. just like eerie and creepy and dark. and the endings too were shot in similar ways. additionally i also like that she killed every one of the major leaders in the end, that was fun.

overall was it the best horror movie i've ever seen? no. definitely not. was it a fun watch yes! would i watch it again, sure. though i do look away when the gory bits happen, but that's normal with horror. i hope sydney sweeney does more horror, and i mean like a24 style. i'd love for her to be in a movie with mia goth or anya taylor joy or something.

[mythgrippa-blog]

Day 001 - establishing

Alrighty! Yesterday was productive if I had to say the least, I am glad when I talk to someone who gets my ideas, so I'm involved in the backend along with databases and anything devOps and AI related. My teammate is a stallion!!! I'm so glad there's someone who makes up for my coding skills, its very weird still, I USED TO BE ABLE TO CODE FOR HOURS AND HOURS... okay I think mostly because I used to program for hours either with Java or C++, and bare bone Javascript, so maybe web development wasn't my strong suit.

But I'm good at understanding and making designs for code, so I'm very involved in seeing the bigger picture and he'll just do the painting. Here's a screen shot of how our backend looks like, so I'm brush it up since its a bit of mess right now

I'm using drawio because lucid just wasn't working for me, I kept running out of shapes, I'd say lucid is good when it comes to making final designs but drawio has that technical feel I like.

RabbitMQ is just so sexy oh my goodness, it allows for simple and fast communication between services. Its free tier is enough for what I need.

I want to learn PostgreSQL so bad, but I can't because we're on a time crunch and we'll just switch to MySQL for each service using an SQL database, since there's going to be data replication across these services, to maintain synchronized data across all services, RabbitMQ comes in the rescue. I hope it can handle, but since we'll starting off with a relatively small userbase, I doubt we'll run into problems, but if it happens we run into issues, I think switching to Kafka might be better since it has like faster reads (thanks to fewer systemcalls within its architecture)

Firestore is very useful and easy to setup, that reliability is useful for our messaging and posting of images, and also Firebase storage as well, that's so cool!!! I'm still working on the designs

I'm still working on the schemas using drawsql website, the reason for the SQL is because its easier to model friendships, invitations, requests, way better than a NoSQL solution, I want to see what Neo4j can do but again I'm trying to keep things simple. I'll also switch to drawio for doing the ER diagrams because drawSQL has limits and I'm a cheapskate

I made use of freesqldatabase.com for a temporary online database we can quickly use, but this limits the choices for ORMs, since we're using NodeJS we can't make use of Prisma since it requires permissions/privileges that the website doesn't offer, but I'm working on making use of google cloud's free e2 instances to host the database, and if that works we finally have our development database!

I still haven't talked to my client, I'd rather someone from frontend do it, I hope they can finally start working together because I can't with this leadership biz! I am reading this leadership guide book, hopefully I learn something.

I've been also looking at buying some light novels for either rezero or overlord, boy boy boy which do I get??? I honestly don't know, but I"ll figure it out later. I can't wait to go a pawn shop and see what cheap board games I can buy, I'm so excited! But that will be a while.

Well my goals today are simple:

Finalize the schemas for the SQL databases and deploy the databases (or I can be cheap and deploy one instance and host 2 databases :D running two docker containers that have mysql on the same e2 instance and then mapping their default 3306 ports to two ports on the instance and then connecting globally! That's so brilliant I'm so cheap HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!)

Draw up class diagrams for each service, making use of proper design patterns to make the code more neat

Have a meeting with my guy again and see where we go from there

Thanks again for reading my whatever this is, but its really fun hopefully I don't burn out from writing this much so early

[retphienix]

...

Entire main party is 30~ Lowest units are some unused members that joined over time like the thief girl who are all like 15 but also I'm not going to use bad units for no reason when I've spent this entire time trying to make a fun and cohesive team that isn't like 5 warriors.

Yeah okay go fuck yourself. ALL of them are 20~ I HAVE to break this law or use my bad backup units.

I didn't even grind in a ridiculous fashion, I'd argue I did LESS side content than a kid would playing this, with the caveat of both me and the hypothetical kid playing on hard, and here we are.

Well let me take this moment to not complain about laws because let's be honest, I'm just gonna break this one and not look back, I do that a lot because the rewards are "nice" but not necessary and I don't have any good privileges that I'd hate to lose yet (turns out that one trial that cheated and put me in an unwinnable situation by cheating because the game cheats would have given me a nice one!)

Instead I just wanted to say the story is progressing so... strangely lol.

Maybe it's just my experience, but I really enjoyed how this all began- it's "kind" of a retread of FFTA's falling into Ivalice story, except that one was from the POV of a kid who really wanted to get back, and wanted to save his brother, and had conflicts with the friends and family he came across because none of them wanted to leave, and all of this was capped off with poor writing that failed to play to the strengths of such a dilemma.

This one is that, but you're one of the kids who's pretty chill with being here, but the story is genuinely promoting and working to the strengths of that, because Luso DOES want to go home, but he's NOT in a hurry to do it, and the in-universe solution to him getting home is for him to enjoy his stay here, the WORLD is bending to make his motivation work, it's great!

The story is quite literally "Enjoy this fun fantasy world and you'll go home :)" at the moment and just that is pretty nice, but it's also capped off with some interesting growth in the background- who is Cid, holy shit Cid got shot there's some dark stuff going on in this world, what is this magicite or whatever, is the Mist a problem- all of that is good and adds to it so far!

But uh.

All of that is kinda on the backburner like 99% of the time it feels lol

Because the actual story is just "IDK, go grab some medicine (he doesn't super need but it's nice)? IDK, what's that rock? Oh you don't know so it'll take a while so that's post-poned? alright. IDK, wanna go on an airship? No reason, just do you wanna go look over the edge while flying because that'd be neat? Yeah."

Like I genuinely think the "goal" at the moment being to simply enjoy the world is potentially a good one, it's something some neat side quest centric stuff could latch onto, but instead it's very much just. meandering.

The side quests themselves are all empty and nothing as all hell, a lot of them are just "Have you unlocked the right job to hand over the unit for a few weeks?" or "Can you walk over to this node and we'll call that a delivery quest? (reminder there aren't forced random encounters so it's just you walking from A to B) and why is that even a thing.

And then the main quest is just, more meandering. I'm doing NOTHING!

I'm sure it won't stay that way, but it feels like the last like 8 main quest objectives were just us walking around aimlessly, all the while the thief girl makes snide remarks about stealing from us, and Luso goes "Oh you~ Anyways, let's go tell Cid that we climbed a mountain!"

It's been nothing for slightly too long.

Oh it's that Vaan guy.I know him from final fantasy.

I rather enjoyed that one, it's Weird and it's gameplay is Weird and it's Big Flawed and I really had a great time and wish I had been in the mood to post more of it when I did play it lol

[microraptorreactor]

Starting with The Butcher's Song because that's the first one.

One important bit of context is that Stories for the Blood Thirsty was not something I had planed at the time. I wrote this assuming I wouldn't make more Ultrakill, or if I did, it would not be tied to The Butcher's Song. It was originally just a silly little one-shot. But, yaknow, robot brainrot hit (gestures vaguely at blog). I wasn't building the world for a longform work at the time. As a result, both the one-shots have an embarrassing amount of retcons.

right off the bat, forgot I never changed the doc title. That was its working title before I cleaned it up for AO3. Its. Uh. Considerably worse then the final title if I'm being honest.

It's satisfying that despite all the problems, the opening line of this work still holds up. This is still the core of V1's character, even if it's gotten a little bit less living meatgrinder and a little more big cat/bird. Find, Kill, Feed also hasn't changed in the slightest. Probably because it's the heart of this series, lol.

I kinda forgot how visceral this work is. Especially how V1 describes things. V2 is such a soft little baby compared to this my word.

And here's the first retcon! This entire paragraph is no longer accurate lmao. There used to be more then one handler working with V1 at a time. Also, not mentioned here, but only military machines had handlers. When I was expanding the world after writing this, I realized how inefficient and unsafe this system was XD

The second retcon in this paragraph is the Earthmovers dying out. That is from a canon sentence in the game, that I promptly ignored for Bathed in Blood. No Earthmovers is boring for a work set during New Peace tbh, I like it when the cities can stand up and wander off.

And very last retcon in this paragraph is that V1 wasn't reactivated after its final hunt. This is a pretty minor change compared to the rest of the paragraph lol.

Through some dark magic, I've only mentioned Gabriel three times in the entire series. And two of those mentions are in Butcher's Song! Gaberiel knows the song, he just has to sing it :) (he also knows what the song means and he's bloody terrified of it)

Since SftBT has just been fleshing out Machines, I decided not to touch angels in Handle With Care. I'll get around to angels eventually, but I'd rather not try fleshing out two cultures/systems at the same time. The comedic result of this is that Gabriel does not have a speaking role.

And here's the scene that everyone is dreading. It also got retconned, V2 speaks more in later versions of the scene. V2 was originally 100% aware of its surroundings and situation, but also V2 was originally an adult with a normal backstory. To be honest, V2 incoherently babbling to itself probably would have been a more interesting scene. Oh well, the setup of V1 viewing V2 as a waste was like, really important for deciding the themes going forward XD

It's so weird to see Earthmover dialogue written the same as machine feed chatter. I genuinely thought I messed up the formatting here, but nope! Earthmover text just wasn't bolded yet XD Makes the Earthmover seem so quiet.

No other robots, or Kaine Clarx, specifically. He didn't exist yet. One of the first things I established about the V series is that these fucks are LOUD and I think that's really funny.

Birdcatt's live author reactions to their own works looks fun I'm gonna steal that. Live author reaction ahead.

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Memories of the discarded. ]

I’ve been holding onto these but uhhoohogh it’s time for some awkward headcanons again!

Today’s session brought to you by: tentative thoughts centering the Mantis Child.

(In which for me, she was born pre-traitor arc.)

With mutual respect and consent came her^TM, but it was an ultimately loveless cause. Nothing more than a simple bond between two strong(?) mantids. Well. That said, he’s not a bastard and had taken due care of both partner and child when the time came (where the sisters had also doted and loved her).

I will add that while he did betray his tribe at some point for various reasons while still keeping enough of his mind, she had the choice to either stay or go. Feeling it wrong to do otherwise, she had reluctantly left with him and the defectors on her own volition. In part to see it through, and in knowing and being warned that the associations would be... gray, so to speak, if she did stay. So she couldn’t really be considered part of them anymore after choosing beasts over the village.

-

(...and the phrasing is the Traitors’ Child, rather than Traitor’s.)

Thereby, I enjoy implying that the mantises are fairly cool-knit with each other internally — at least up to an extent, or perhaps in some idea that any offspring of a Lord would be considered part of the tribe/everyone’s.

In turn. Though she did not take the infection like the outcasts had (they respected her will, at least — it was more than enough that she came with them anyhow), they treated her just like how they did when they were not traitors: as if she were their own.

And it’s quite the fun thought, really, to imagine her tiredly and quietly watching her kin slowly accept more of this sweetly foul thing and be more aggressive than they normally would be. Though they held familiarity and a degree of kindness in the initial phase of their exile, she still felt an uncomfortable uncertainty she couldn’t place. Where interactions grew a bit more sternly, hinted with resentment at the existing reminder that they all chose to take the infection even when the Daughter held on her own (albeit not without struggle).

-

It’s equally fun to imagine that as soon as she died, they started their downhill collapse into the unhinge.

Rather than have her die at her own father’s hands by some whacky rage/misunderstanding, I like to think that at some point they kind of... well, being influenced by the Radiance, I’d like to think that their disdain for anything regarding Hallownest intensified, resulting in them defiling and ransacking the gardens of the Queen since Man She’s Right There (and if not that, then just a hint of a whisper directing them to said area that so happened to be her domain) and their thoughts had grown more swayed.

So she didn’t have to accompany any battle, really, and she especially had some conflict when her own lover admitted her allegiance to Hallownest and here she was trying to keep things under wraps. But she still remembered how fondly she was treated, and so came the feeling of obligation to go.

One thing led to another, and she fell by Dryya’s nail, quickly noticed by the Traitor Lord after she was thrown to the side like she were any other mantid that had clashed with the fiercely loyal protector. And she does remember the brief tell in passing from the other knight, “Che’ found fondest affection for a mantis, different.” Remembered after hearing the roar that halted their fight, where the Lord swung back one of his own kin when they did not seem well enough to heed the order out of both insanity and rage.

The traitor tribe had a screaming headache that they were to kill and continue onwards, but their Lord held on enough to deny them of that. Had managed to get across to the despicable knight following lies that he would — will — bury their beloved Daughter before returning to conclude. It was in no way advantageous to say this and actually follow through in a brief retreat, but he did brush off the hint of appreciation that her corpse wasn’t outright dismembered (somehow).

So right after they could complete said burial in a place they suspected to be most frequented by her (and perhaps another) alongside the surface precaution of thorns, well...ya know. They lost their reminder, their reason; at that point, it was easier to mentally influence the traitor tribe with all the nonsense that came along with the infection. Hallucinations, loudening suggestions, muddled thoughts, the works.

They are led to believe at this point there was no going back and that their tribe would certainly not take them back, so they gave in entirely and lost rationality where not even the Lord himself could remember where the grave they made was at some point (aside from a memory that it’s within these very gardens).

-

(Miscellaneous | Mantis Lords)

I’d like to also think that the sisters had kept some sort of tabs on the traitor tribe, though they did not directly see to them. A group of scouts here, a hunt to check there; they at least had a vague understanding of where the mantid and beasts had taken territory to. 

Concerning the grave, I would like to assume that they do know, but as for how they know... I’d want to say either by word or by an unfortunately-timed and poor impression of meeting Ze’mer, stuck in mourning. It isn’t as if all of the Lords could go and see it, so it’d be a rather one-by-one basis just to acknowledge the fact, if at all.

Also I double-like to think that they could demolish the fourth throne entirely if they so wanted to, but they kept it to serve as a reminder of failure/what could come to their tribe (and in an unspoken yet vain hope). Fun memories/regrets for the whole kin! :D

or something. um

okay listen I already said my interpretations might be a bit too indulgent on the family-loving side, but I hope that makes sense enough? haha ooohg...

I just want a bit of happiness here and there before it turns outright Bad. I figure the dude’s got good intent and lots of thought behind his decision(?) in being infected rather than the straight up “you know what’s sexy? strength. alright. i think i’m going to go batshit now.” and while I love, I would also spontaneously combust at the thought of him killing his daughter (at least for my interpretations), especially if it’s over just somethin’ small like “you love a NOT-A-MANTIS?!” due to that one outsider-honor dream dialogue from a mantis warrior makin’ me wonder otherwise.

(for that my thoughts is more Ze’mer: the Hallowed-of-nest Knight? -> Radiance as Infectious Influence: “Oh. That bug sucks. You hate Hallownest? That bug’s going to totally leave your daughter to rot.”)

I can explain about this stuff more but maybe... maybe I leave that for another post before I babble on hsdflkhj

[tonguetiedraven]

Just read your latest shirou fic, it's great. Can you write about people questioning shirou's upbringing to be abnormal because of the way he acts and his horrible past is brought up, maybe with the shirou-yuri-rick trio (I love them so much, damn it)

I'm going to apologize for taking a while with this, and for the fact that I'm not terribly good at any of the characters involved in Section 13. This is from Rick's pov and has him mostly watching and wondering. I hope you both enjoy <3

Tw/Cw for mentions of needles, child abuse, implied panic attack, and medical situations

— — — — — — — — —

Rick was a bit too aware that none of his friends had ever been normal. He made his living raising demons, hardly the work of someone who was 'normal' by the world's standard.

Yuri thought it was weird not to want to befriend demons. Shirou thought it was normal to glare at people wishing you a nice day and that giving a kid a beer to shut them up was perfectly okay.

They stressed him out sometimes when he thought about them living out in the world by their selves. They could take out a high ranking demon single-handedly, but he doubted either of them would know what to do with a basket of dirty laundry or a fitted sheet.

Tonight was one of the nights he wondered and worried.

It had been one of those days. One of the draining kind where Shirou looked a bit distant and Yuri looked a bit crushed. One of the days when the missions were over but there wasn't any relief of a job well done. There was just a lot of thinking and wondering where you'd miscalculated.

Rick had enjoyed his day. He'd had a simple job, and he'd gotten to spend a few hours at the farm to help raise a few cat sidhes. They were all still at the kitten stage, and clumsy despite their high demonic ranks. It was endlessly endearing to watch something that could be worshiped as a god get the zoomies, cry because they couldn't leap to the top of the cat tower, flop over and show their belly, head bump, and yowl when surprised.

It had been a good day, until he went for the annual vaccines. He'd gotten in line behind Yuri, who was behind Shirou, and it had been immediately obvious that both his friends were tense. He tried starting a conversation, and Yuri plastered on a smile that was too toothy to be sincere, while Shirou kept staring ahead with a stony expression.

The nurse gave the exorcist ahead of them the all clear, and motioned for Shirou to take the seat. He moved forward with two stiff steps, fisted his hands, and started to sit, only to go rigid and straighten right back up.

"Please sit, sir."

"I'd rather stay standing. Just hurry up and do it." Shirou's tone could rarely be described as polite, but now it was downright tense and barely not a growl.

Yuri was just as stiff. Her hands were clenched nervously, and she was watching Shirou with a nervous sort of frown.

The nurse gave an annoyed sort of huff and pulled the new packet out. She tugged Shirou's sleeve up, unwrapped the needle, and stepped towards him to--

Shirou abruptly jerked away with a sharp breath and knocked over the nurses tray. She gasped in surprise, raising her hands and the needle. Shirou shot back from it like it was a gun instead of a small inoculation. He growled out some words, shoved the chair towards her so she had to jump out of the way, and bolted from the room, knocking a guard out of his way and fleeing.

"Oh no," Yuri mumbled, and started after him only to stop after two steps.

"What was that about?"

Yuri gave him a nervous look and forced a smile that didn't show here teeth. "Nothing. Shirou just doesn't like needles. Come on. Let's go ahead and get this done so we can get a drink."

Okay...

No. It was weird.

— — — — — — — — —

Shirou hated needles. Which, fair. A lot of people hated needles.

Shirou hated strapped chairs. Just walking by a strapped chair — the kind they used for interrogations or for holding down possessed victims.

Shirou wouldn't stand near beakers. Any time they had to go near the farm labs or a mission took them somewhere with anything that resembled chemistry equipment, he didn't go near it and he'd keep it in his view the entire time.

He woke up in a hospital gown once and promptly ripped it off. He'd torn the iv out and tried to bolt from the room, only stopping because Rick was in his way.

Rick wasn't sure Shirou had recognized him, or if he'd recognized the uniform. It took a couple of seconds and several blinks for his friend to seem to realize there wasn't any reason to flee. He'd returned to the bed but refused to put back on the hospital gown. Rick found the clothes he'd been brought in with, and got him to put those on seconds before Yuri came in. (She'd be annoyed when she found out she had missed naked Shirou.)

It was one thing to be nervous about medical equipment, but it was more than just that.

Rick was patient when it counted — you had to be patient to be a tamer — and Shirou required a lot of patience for everything. It was obvious Yuri knew what was going on, but she didn't like talking about Shirou. Well, no. She loved talking about Shirou. She just didn't like talking about Shirou's past.

Neither of them did.

But she also hated watching Shirou struggle, so Rick waited until they were all required to get a new round of shots.

Shirou was drunk this time, got to the point of the nurse approaching him with the needle, and once again bolted from the room, knocking two people over this time.

He got his shots and took Yuri to get a drink. Rick could be patient when it counted, but he also knew when he didn't have to be. He was going to figure out what was going on, and he was going to help.

— — — — — — — — — —

Of course the story — what Yuri knew of it at least — was horrible. She only told him bits and pieces, but Shirou hadn't been with the rest of the recruits in school for a reason. While they were learning maths and researching death verses, Shirou was being tortured. While they were eating lunches in the school yard and throwing paper wads at each other, Shirou was being vivisected and isolated.

So yeah, disliking needles was probably the least weird thing that could come out of something like that, and now Rick just wanted to wrap his friend in cotton and keep him safe.

But Shirou wasn't the type to let anyone treat him gently, so it wasn't going to be as easy as that.

Ugh. Stubborn idiot.

— — — — — — — — — —

The first thing he tried was saying nothing, but that didn't exactly work because he just kept looking at Shirou and wondering. Wondering if he had a lot of scars under that coat, wondering if he had a lot of other ticks, and wondering why it had happened. He kept watching, and he had to look panicked because Yuri stepped on his foot multiple times and gave him a pointed glare until he sort of smoothed out his expression and said something — usually a terrible joke — way too loudly.

Shirou would stare at him for a long moment, trying to figure out why he was acting weird. Then Yuri would kick him again, and that wasn't going to keep working.

He couldn't bring it up, obviously. Shirou would be pissed he knew, and Yuri would be pissed he blabbed.

So the next thing he tried was intervening. On the few missions they got to work together, he'd make sure to put himself between his friend and any lab type equipment, and that didn't really seem to draw any attention.

Then on the next day when they had to get inoculations -- because there was an endless amount of venoms and diseases and terrible things demons could inflict on you and True Cross would never stop trying to make sure they were prepared for them. Rick pulled strings and cashed in favors, and got Shirou away on a mission for it.

It worked twice, and then Shirou caught on.

There was, surprisingly, less yelling than he expected. There was yelling, of course, but mostly there were glares, a shove (better than the punch Shirou would have once given), and a lot of ignoring.

Rick still put himself between Shirou and lab equipment, and still made sure to discreetly tell the nurse on vaccine days that Shirou needed space.

Finally: "Whatever Yuri told you about it, she exaggerated."

"Told me about what?"

Shirou glared for a moment, worked his jaw, and finally nodded. "Nothing. And it's gonna stay that way."

"Of course."

Shirou glared for a few more seconds. Rick passed him a beer and reclined in his seat. "Soda's looking for a dragoon for a mission on Thursday. I thought you might be interested."

Shirou's eyes narrowed. "Yeah? Why?"

"Because I thought you'd be interested. No reason."

It wasn't like Shirou needed to know that they were giving flu shots on Thursday. If Shirou was with Soda in France, well, it wouldn't hurt anyone.

None of Rick's friends were normal, but Rick didn't mind helping where he could.

[arcadejohn127-9]

:O your requests are open! :D i really like your writing, and I'd like to request the brothers(+undateables if your okay with that) with an MC who really hates apples, and the brothers handed them an apple and they threw it at the brother purely on instinct? I have a weird hatred for apples, and I git handed an apple and yeeted it at the person, completely on reflex/instinc, I felt pretty bad but they were laughing, so something like that? Though if you don't want to do it, then that's totally okay! Don't overwork yourself :) stay safe, have a nice day!

I----

Interesting! This is definitely comedic and something I can do! I'm so happy you enjoy my writing! Stay safe yourself and have a nice day!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were focusing on your phone; scrolling through devilgram as you lazily lounged on your sofa but you saw apples pop up on your feed. A new Apple based recipe coming up on some of the feed blogs you've followed.

You weren't really sure how to bring up your DISDAIN for apples. Your absolute HATRED for them. Was it the texture? The taste? Who knows- you didn't! You just couldn't stand them.

You knew it was silly so you never brought it up. The poison apples in the Devildom only made your hate even more prominent.

You were so caught up on your thoughts so you didn't expect someone to give you one, telling you to eat. Out of pure instinct you just chucked it to the closest person in the room.

Lucifer:

Didn't expect you to throw it at him

Hit him right in the shoulder

He saw you lounging on the sofa and noticed you haven't ate yet

He stared at his shoulder, wincing as he rubbed it

You let out a scared apology

Dreading his reaction but he caught you off guard

He bursted out laughing, his brow raised as he just stared at you chuckling

"Was you really that startled? I didn't think an apple would scare you that much."

"i- I guess so...is your shoulder okay?"

He nodded, the pain already subsiding

"I'll be sure to keep your Apple instincts in mind next time."

Mammon:

He screamed in fright

Screamed more when it hit him right in the nose

You immediately shot up and rushed over to his side

"Mammon-! I'm so sorry-"

He immediately started bursting into laughter, stopping to sneeze but it never happened

You couldn't help but giggle at his struggles between uncontrollable laughter and stopping as if he was about to sneeze

"You HAD to aim for the nose! You damn rascal!"

He tried to smack you but got caught off guard feeling his sneeze actually arrive

"I'm sorry! But why are you sneezing?!"

"I sneeze when i hurt my nose."

You laughed even harder as he sniffled

"WHAT??!!"

"Did you seriously feel that threatened by a little apple ya had to throw it me?!"

"........yes."

This became an inside joke for you two quickly after

You smacked his nose and watched him struggle to sneeze and he'd give you apples to throw at people

Levithan:

It hit him right in the dickins

How it got that low was a shock to both of you

You tried not to laugh as he clutched his crotch, whimpering and slowly sinking the floor

"Levi, I'm so sorry, hopefully it didn't absolutely destory it."

You both just stared at each other before the both of you bursted out laughing

"I'm never doing that again- you could of shot it off with that throw!"

He winced, adjusting to sitting up as the pain subsided

"Are you okay though? It looked like it hurt."

"I'm fine, are you going to do that if I give you more fruit? I don't blame for not liking it."

"no, just apples - promise."

"you're a weird human but could we test how your throw again some time? I might need your help."

Satan:

It hit him in the side of the face

You felt your heart drop straight to the floor

It wasn't too long ago Satan was chewing out levi

Internally this was Satan:

"you ******* I will ************ rip your **** right out of your ******* spine and pull it through your nose ***** ***** ******************************************************* that hurt!"

Meanwhile the outside of him was just rubbing his cheek/ear

You screamed out an apology, fearing this was your last day

But he just chuckled, waving his hand

"it was an accident, let it be a reminder I don't surprise you like that."

You still frowned

"I'm still really sorry....does it hurt alot? I can get you some ice-"

"No need, it'll be fine, no more apples for you though."

"I have no issue with that, I hate apples."

You both laughed, but you stared at him, completely serious

"I'm not kidding, I literally despise them and will keep throwing them out of instinct."

It felt good to finally let that out

But Satan just bursted out laughing

A high pitched wheeze leaving him

Asmodeus:

Just caught it in time except in his scramble to catch it he got scared by your sudden throw

He football kicked the apple by accident and it went flying through the window

"Let's not tell anyone, I'd rather not have Lucifer on me for breaking something."

"my lips are sealed - trust me."

He wiped his hands, pouting

"I try to give you something nice and you just throw it at me! What's that all about?!"

You cringed, guilty about your reaction

But you couldn't help it!

It was something you couldn't control!

"Sorry, I just do that...with apples."

He let out a sudden snort/scoff

Raising his brow at you

"I'm never giving you one again but~ if I were to get you to throw them at people, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

You shook your head, laughing at his eagerness to cause issues

He couldn't help but laugh himself

"I'll do it if you give me something in return, okay?"

He happily agreed, nodding and throwing his arms around you

Though the moment ended when you both heard Lucifer outside

He found the Apple.....oh no

Beezlebub:

Man built like a brick wall

He couldn't catch it and it hit him right in the chest

The apple got DENTED

You couldn't even think about apologizing as you couldn't stop your fit of laughter

The dented apple just rolled to your feet

"you didn't want an apple?"

You shook your head furiously

"no- sorry, did that hurt? It dented-"

"I didn't feel a thing, do you want a different snack?"

You nodded

He soon came back with food for himself and another healthy snack, offering you a sip of his smoothie

He sat with you, eating his food pile

"I hate apples....it's best no one gives me one."

"You had an impressive throw, I think you'd well in the R.A.D athlete team."

"wait- really?! Thank you!"

He agreed, humming as he ate

It was safe to say he got you an apple to show your throwing skills without thinking about your throw

It got you a good score and even got praised for your instinct

Belphegor:

The apple bonked him in the head

His forhead getting suddenly attacked

You rushed to his side, moving his fringe

"are you okay?! It's not bruising is it?! I'm so sorry!"

But he just started laughing

"I didn't expect that! You gonna do that everytime Someone surprises you?"

"no just apples - stop laughing! It isn't - It's not funny-!"

But you started to laugh too

"I'm not hurt, don't worry."

He huffed as he moved his fringe back over his eye again

You really weren't sure why he insisted on his emo hairstyle but it was best not to question it

"Shame you aren't, I could of kissed it better."

Without missing a single beat

He suddenly clutched his head, howling in agony

"THE PAIN!!! ah!!! The pain-! You must kiss it better or else I will die."

You rolled your eyes

Moving his fringe once again and gave his forhead a quick kiss

He suddenly hugged you but it wasn't long before he fell asleep

You landed on the floor

Letting out a pained 'oof' as you tried to shove him off you

But he refused to budge

Muttering a sleepy 'revenge'