#I fucking miss foraging….sad

[artemisiatridentata]

roommate has covid (again) (I hopefully dodged it bc I've been out on a work trip all week but still). I apparently got assigned awhile ago to lead next week's work trip but today is the first I heard about it so I'm scrambling to prepare everything on time. a covid conscious person I connected w/ online is coming to visit tomorrow and I'm stressed bc I have to get a bunch of work done before then and also I hope the vibe is cool in-person and that we can be friends! also none of my coworkers have said they can cover my shift tomorrow even though I put the request in the group chat weeks ago and I cover their shifts whenever I can. i am on day 32 of a 41 day stretch of working every single day with only two days off including 9/5 and tomorrow (IF one of my coworkers steps up...) . and then my next day off, in October, isn't even really a day off because I have to drive 4 hours round trip to the nearest city to get an MRI to see whether or not my recently diagnosed genetic disorder has given me internal cysts or tumors. I am hanging on by a thread haha

[toxicanonymity]

I love your fic!

Can we get some Joel/Reader noncon somnophlia out here???

What you're missing

1.2k | dark!Joel x f!Reader | masterlist

Yes, ty for asking

I8+ noncon somnophilia, mild manhandling Joel POV

Joel wakes up in the middle of the night, cock as hard as a steel rod, with you in his arms.  You and Joel are sharing a sleeping bag for warmth, so you’re both nude - more body heat that way - and he’s spooning you.  You could feel him harden before you fell asleep, and you knew it was only natural, so you ignored it.  You were getting warm and wet yourself, and for a moment, you felt guilty.  You’re not exactly  single, but your partner was needed at the clinic and stayed behind.  Meanwhile, you were sent on a week-long hunting trip to provide your foraging and tree-climbing skills.  The rest of the hunting party got killed off, and now it’s just you and Joel.  It’s too risky to build a fire. Plus, you've encountered clickers, so you have to be quiet. 

So you might have felt guilty for a moment about your body's natural human arousal, but you shouldn���t have.  It’s strictly about the mission between you and Joel.  At this point, you're lucky to be alive, and you have Joel to thank.  A hard cock resting harmlessly against you is the least of your worries.   Attractive as he may be with his sad eyes, messy hair, and patchy beard.  Strong as he may be with his hulking biceps and thick neck. . . he’s a hunter, and you’re a gatherer.  That’s all you are together, and that’s all you’ll be.  

-

And now, Joel's raging erection rests against your crack while you’re sound asleep.  He can’t remember the last time he was this hard.  Maybe never.  He scoots back just enough to adjust its position.  He nestles his length between your thighs, resting against your warmth in a special nook made just for him.  He rocks his hips forward to get comfortable, and the rest of his body nestles into yours again, with his strong arm draped over your body.  

His massive palm finds your breast and flattens it into your chest as he pulls you closer, your spine against his broad chest and stomach, which is just soft enough to be comfortable for you. The feeling of your nipple against his palm makes his hips rock into you once more. This time, as his cock moves against you, he feels something new – an irresistible wetness between your legs.  He rolls his hips into you at a slow rhythm, his stiff, thick member sliding against your wet heat, nestled between your folds like guardrails on a track.  His tip drags firmly over your clit before meeting cool air on the other side. 

You moan in your sleep and he stills himself.  You push your ass into him and tilt your hips in your sleep.  His breath deepens, and his heart rate quickens.  His arousal swells even harder.  When he rolls his hips into you again, the swollen head of his cock hitches briefly at your entrance and he has to suppress a groan.  He keeps slowly fucking the sleeve formed by your thighs and folds.   

Joel has never wanted someone so badly.  And even in your sleep, your body must want him, too.  When Joel is mid-thrust, your hips tilt again, catching his tip with your warm, wet hole. Desire seizes him entirely.  He freezes with the tip of his cock nestled half inside you.  He slows his breathing to emulate sleeping before cupping your breast again.  Your ass nudges back into him as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight, wet entrance.  He inhales deeply through his nose, trying to calm himself, but breathing in your scent only hastens his need to be inside you.  

Joel can feel your insides make way for his fat cock as he pushes a little more inside.  He moves his hand to your hip for leverage as he inches further, about half his cock sheathed by your tight pussy at this point.  He pauses to breathe, and you push back on him in your sleep with a moan, taking him further inside you.  Joel retreats slightly, seeking more friction after getting that taste.  Then, his hard cock plunges into you, slowly but decisively, all the way to the hilt.  You’re so snug and warm, you feel like absolute heaven wrapped around him.  It’s a tight squeeze and only made possible by how wet you are.  He stays there, all the way inside, just barely rocking his hips, hand on your breast. Then, with time, his motion becomes less subtle.  

-

You awake with a  gasp to a fullness you’ve never felt before.  It’s nothing but bliss until you get your bearings.  You moan as he bottoms out again, and he’s emboldened by your sound of pleasure.  He stops holding back.  His hard shaft pumps in and out of you, kissing your g-spot.  He grunts and the sound shakes you back to reality.  You’re startled by the realization that this is real. You had been floating in some realm where it was just this disembodied cock, a dream man's arms wrapped around you, giving you the best fuck of your life.  As your knees brush the nylon of the sleeping bag, you jolt at the unmistakable knowledge that this is real, and Joel Miller is inside you.  

You squirm and his arm wraps tight around you, his hand clamps down on your mouth, and he says, “shhhh, it’s okay sugar.”  His hips only pause for a moment before he starts fucking you again, hard and slow.  “Just relax," he says into the back of your earlobe, then nibbles it and kisses your neck. “Let yourself have this.”  You might as well enjoy it.  You'll cope with reality later.  

You marvel at how he fills you up.  It's like he's a part of you. His stiff, thick cock—stiffer and thicker than you’ve ever had–hitting just the right spot.  His rhythm is perfect, and somehow–maybe because he saved your life–you feel so safe in his arms.  He engulfs you entirely and tightens his embrace in rhythm. His hand drifts to your clit.  It’s like he’s fucking you with his whole body.   It doesn't take long until you feel the familiar pressure pounding in your core, begging to release, and then it snaps.  You gasp as your clit pulses and your walls flutter around his cock.  He fucks you through your orgasm, saying, "that's it sugar, good girl, let it ride" and you succumb to the pleasure entirely, writhing in his arms, trying not to moan too loud.  

He groans softly into your neck and pulses inside you. You do nothing to stop him. He cups your breast and digs his nose into the nape of your neck, grunting as his hot load fills you up.  Then, he stays inside.  He strokes your naked body tenderly, and your eyes well up in tears.  Not just because it happened.  Not just because he did this.  Because now you know what you're missing, and you'll know it for the rest of your life. 

-

Check out for survival 2 (one shot) for a similar situation but you're secretly awake.

Also, make sure you read the dbf (pt. 4) 🤐 (but it’s not the same).

The foraging concept is inspired by The Forager by @dark-scape (highly recommend, gigolo!Joel), not the same reader or joel.

-

all joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hey, can i request BEN drowned x reader fluff (he just needs some love)

Fluff train coming right up~ I missed writing fluff for BEN, so thank you, and I hope you enjoy :)

I've said before that BEN is horrible at cooking. Despite thinking cooking and baking are very cool and interesting, he tends to get pretty bad results, although he's been working on it. However, the things he seems to never mess up are mug cakes. If he ever wants to make something for you, to treat you or spoil you, or just have a little something sweet with you, he's pulling out his favorite mugs and making the two of you some mug cakes. He knows how to do a couple of different flavors, and while it might not seem like much to some people, it's obvious to you that it comes from a place of pure, genuine love, and it never fails to put a smile on your face when he whips out a mug cake for you. It's even more fun for him if both of you make them together or for each other, especially if you try and surprise the other by keeping the other person's flavor a secret.

Has started collecting matching comfort clothing for the two of you. Pajamas, onesies, blanket hoodies, snuggies, he doesn't care what it is, if it's comfortable and he can get one for each of you, he's doing it. Whenever the two of you have had a long day, or you're gonna have a movie, show, or gaming marathon, BEN pulls them out and prepares to get super comfortable with you and just cuddle up together. BEN is naturally cold (considering he's technically a corpse in his physical form), so he likes to have something comfortable and warm on that gets even warmer when he curls up beside you. He'll get your favorite snacks and drinks, throw on whichever of them you wanna wear that night, and prepare to just zone out and cuddle until the two of you go to bed. Speaking of, I think he'd love to just curl up with you and watch a show together. It doesn't really matter what show it is, but picking a show just for the two of you to watch together would make him really happy and be a great way to unwind together at the end of the day by watching a couple of episodes together.

I think lately he's really into having co-op worlds with you in games. I think the two biggest ones for him right now would be Minecraft and Stardew Valley, and he loves to just sit down, throw on one of the two, and game with you for a few hours. When it comes to Minecraft, I think he'd have two worlds for you guys, one being a creative world and one being a survival world. The creative world is for you guys to just goof around and make silly things together, or surprise each other with a nice build for the other person. When it comes to survival, he likes seeing how well the two of you can make a world together, building a home, and mining and exploring to your heart's content. With Stardew Valley, he just absolutely loves making a farm with you. He always consults you about how money should be spent, where things should go, and which farm you guys should pick. It's just so domestic and peaceful, and if there's something you prefer not to do, whether foraging, farming, or handling the mines, he's more than happy to handle it for you. Plus, it's always fun to bully Mayor Lewis and Clint together with you and work on filling out the museum and the community center together, because fuck Joja. Also, be warned, if there's a certain bachelor or bachelorette you want to marry, he might be stinky and try and compete with you to see who can marry them first (unless that would make you sad, in which case he encourages you to seek out the NPC of your dreams in peace), but it would make him super happy if you chose to marry him instead (or you could both pick Krobus and just be best friends with him together, which would also be fucking awesome in BEN's opinion). Either way, BEN has the most fun he's ever had with games, especially those two games when he gets to play them with you.

[zeltqz]

in charge

/ɪn tʃɑːdʒ/ based off this request love you anon <3 mwahhhh

summary. i honestly dont even know how to summarise this; so it's just you and ran = talking, but he denies it. you get sad, he gets common sense knocked into him, you fuck. the end.

pairing. ran haitani x fem!reader

featuring. kokonoi hajime, manjiro sano, mentions of Kisaki's eyebrows lol, hanma shuji, rindou haitani, haruchiyo sanzu, kakuchou

word count. 8.8k (long again, sorry not really)

content. fluff, slight angst (i suck at angst), getting together, sort of one-sided pining (ran doesn't know he likes you so it's sort of one sided),. nsfw content. alcohol/drinking consumption, oral sex (m receiving), mentions of smoking/weed, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism at the end

“Is there a reason you’re literally showering yourself in  perfume?”  

Your friend Maki, wiggles her eyebrows from atop your  bathroom counter, kicking her legs playfully, a wide grin  displayed on her pretty face watching you forage through  your perfume collection. You’ve been frantically observing one  bottle, pushing it to the side, agitated and annoyed when it  wasn’t the right one. 

So far, you’ve dosed your neck with the third, maybe fourth  fragrance —she’s lost count at this point. 

Your other friend, Kyo snorts with laughter watching you. “I  hope you know lavender doesn’t smell good with vanilla,  peach and—” He picks up the perfume bottle you recently just  sprayed and turns it around to find the label, “—Berry Mellow  Blue? The fuck is this?” 

“Lemme see.” He hands Maki the perfume bottle and she  sprays it on her inner wrist, bringing it up to her nose. “ Oooh,  this smells good. Can I use it?” 

You don’t respond, mind preoccupied, too busy trying to file  through the memories trying to figure out which perfume  combination you had sprayed just a couple weeks prior, the  one Ran complimented you on. 

It shouldn’t be that hard to find, after all you had a  dedicated spot inside your brain just reserved for him.  Unintentionally of course, he just happens to take up most of  your thinking time with his mere existence. 

Inside that special V.I.P spot, it’s filled with all the outfits  you’ve worn that he liked, the outfits he’s worn that you liked,  the sound of his morning voice when you call him to get up  because he’s overslept and missed third period.  

“Kyo, pass me that one.” Maki gestures to the tiny perfume  bottle inside your hand and he reaches over to snatch it . 

“Oi, give that back!” You try to grab him but he’s taller and  annoying so he holds it above his head. 

“Please, you’ve used enough, don’tcha think?” 

You disagree, though their nostrils are practically burning,  nose hairs shrivelling in overstimulation.  

He hands Maki the perfume bottle and she sprays it on her  neck, wrists, arms, clothes, basically everywhere and you  from, upset she smells like you now. 

Kyo’s elbow finds itself on top of your shoulder, the weight of  it has your body tilting to the side before you shove it off.  “What do you want?” You glare at him, irritated. 

“Is there a reason you’re going all out today? It��s just a get  together for New Years.” 

“Yeah, she wants to get together with a special someone,  doesn’t she.” Through the mirror, you meet Maki’s eyes, her  lips twitching up into a grin. When Kyo’s eyebrows raise up in  confusion, she turns to face him, ignoring your glare  completely. “Do you know who’s gonna be there, Kyo?” 

He shakes his head, and she turns back to face you, nose  wrinkling playfully, offering a charmed smile and your face  drops. 

She knows… 

Kyo takes a moment to read the room. There’s definitely  something he’s not getting at here…why are you both looking  at each other like that. “...who’s gonna be there?” He has a  feeling there’s a subtle inside joke he’s missing out on  because he’s certain you’re both mentally communicating  through the mirror through grins and harsh stares. “Oi! Don’t  leave me out, what’s goin’ on?!” 

Maki holds eye contact for a second longer before turning to  face him. “Just the regular group she hangs out with.” 

“Oh, so—” he gets his fingers ready for counting, “—us, that  Mikey guy… uhh , the guy with the bald spot—” 

You frown at the slight jac at Kakucho. “It’s not a bald spot —” 

“—the guy with the weird laugh—” 

“Shuji’s laugh is not weird.” Your frown now turns into a  scowl and Maki giggles into the air. 

“It’s pretty weird, admit it.” 

“—the guy with the eyebrows —” Kyo gestures ‘\ /’ with his  hands, resembling the weird shape of Kisaki’s eyebrows and  you can’t even bother to defend him on that one because,  frankly it’s true.  

“—the guy with the pigtails—” 

Yeah. 

That was your final straw. 

“It’s not pigtails, you fuckin’ idiot!” You groan, frustrated at  that overused joke between Maki and now Kyo apparently.  You stomp over to continue searching through your makeup  bag and Kyo watches your outburst, trying to hold his  laughter in. 

“Wait…” He sounds like he’s come to a realisation as you’re  pulling the top off your eyeliner pencil. “Oh shit! You like  pigtail guy!” 

A jutting look bestows his features when he sees your hand  freeze, mid-gesture. Maki claps her hands, a look on her face  a proud mother would have for her kid and he bows  dramatically, thanking you both for his time. 

“I don’t like him, but okay.” You huff, fixing your eyeliner a  couple times, slow strokes along the wing of your eye to  perfect it.  

The angle is a little crooked, and when you take another look  at both sides, it’s not parallel at all. You glower at your  eyeliner pencil, mentally blaming it for ruining your face  rather than your own fault.  

Kyo hums, bumping shoulders with Maki as he hops onto the  small room you have left on your counter and you side eye  him when he knocks over your makeup remover bottle,  watching it roll onto the floor. 

Maki hands him the perfume bottle they both stole from you  and he juggles with it, tossing it from hand to hand. “Then  why’d you get so mad when I called him pigtails.”

“Because it’s—” you pause, voice trailing off as you try to  think of a justification for your slight overreaction, “—it’s  offensive?” 

Sometimes you think they both share the same braincell, or  were long lost twins because they do things at the same time,  or say things at the same time and it’s creepy. 

 Now is no exception either, they both drop their amused  faces, replacing it with a deadpan look and turn to look at  you.  

“Really?” 

You jut your bottom lip out, refusing to crack under their  stare. “It…it is offensive. He’s a man with long hair, he doesn’t  need to be feminised.” 

“Then why the fuck is he wearing a feminine hairstyle?” 

Your hands tighten on the eyeliner pencil. “I will stab you in  the eye if you keep talking.” 

“Okay, jeeeeeez!” He puts his hands up in surrender, “can’t  even joke with you no more.” 

You roll your eyes and continue to fix your crooked eyeliner  and Maki leans in to whisper in his ear, voice low in a whisper,  “Just don’t joke around about her lover boy.” 

Steam is practically spewing out from your ears at this point  and their snorts and witty commentary is making your blood  boil. You look down at your eyeliner, wondering if it’s sharp  enough to murder them with. 

Nobody would notice they’re gone, and you might get away  with it. Mikey knows a good cover up guy anyway. 

But you take your anger, transforming it into a deep exhale  that does wonders to help rid your body of your irritation and  fish for your earbuds inside your drawer. “I’m going to tune  you idiots out, stop distracting me.” 

“Maybe stop getting distracted—”  

You shove your earbuds in your ear so fast, turning the  volume up on your phone to 100 and watch Kyo’s eyes narrow  in the mirror when you cut him off.

Though you can no longer hear them, they’re doing a good  job at making their presence known . It’s obvious that they  haven’t changed topic, still discussing Ran and his pigtails .  Maki’s making a love heart in her hands and when you look at  her through the mirror, she winks and blows a kiss towards  you. 

Your eyes roll and you shift your gaze over to Kyo,  reading his lips trying to come up with a ship name for you  and Ran. 

God, they’re so insufferable. 

Kyo would actually get along with Ran. They’re aware of  each other's existence, exchanging nothing more than nods  as they pass each other in halls or parties. They don’t talk  though. Ran has his own friend group, and you have yours,  consisting of these two idiots but you won’t change it for the  world. 

You finish up your eyeliner, hoping you’ve fixed up the  crooked edge enough to mirror the other side, hoping it’s  perfect enough for Ran to notice that you’re wearing more  makeup than usual today, hoping he likes it and compliments  you again. 

Your cheeks heat up, an wanted smile creeps up onto your  lips before you could even control it.  

“Awwwwwww, is someone thinking about pigtails again?” 

You look in the mirror, trying your best to glare at Kyo but  the smile on your face overpowers any sour funky mood he’s  able to put you in, so you stick your middle finger up instead. 

He pushes your finger away. “It’s not as rude with a love  struck smile on your face so wipe it off and try again.” 

You roll your eyes for the millionth time today, fiddling with  your eyeliner pencil in your hand. “His name is Ran, not  pigtails. Learn it.” 

Maki nods her head twice in agreement. “Yeah, Kyo , learn it  so you can write it on their wedding invitations to send out  later—” 

You slam your hands down onto the counter. “I’m…gonna get  changed now!” You interrupt her sentence and storm out of  the bathroom, straight into your bedroom.

The two of them laugh as you change into your outfit for  tonight, choosing to focus on whether to wear jeans or skirt,  choosing to drown out the fake exaggerated moans from Maki  in the bathroom and the loud claps from Kyo.  

They’re so annoying. In fact, you take it back. They’d get  along with Haruchiyo more than Ran. 

The obscene sounds are so obviously fake, but realistic at  the same time and Maki even slips Ran’s name in there and  your brain immediately replaces the image of those two with  you and Ran…on your bed…at the party…having fun and you  want to scream into your shirt before you slip it on. 

It’s a simple look you’re going for tonight. You don’t plan on  drinking or getting fucked so you’re wearing a shirt, skirt and  tights. Maki’s wearing a black dress and Kyo’s gone the simple  route like you, a white shirt and jeans.  

You’re sure since the party's at Kokonoi's penthouse, he’s  sure to go full out and so will everyone invited. Ran and  Rindou never miss an opportunity to go full out on parties,  wearing the most expensive rings, necklaces and clothes just  for the flex factor alone. 

You hope the outfit is enough to capture his attention  tonight, though it’s plain, you still want him to be attracted to  you. You’re not dating , definitely not, but you’re not just  friends either. There’s this weird tension in the air every-time  you’re with him.  

Maki was the first to notice. It’s strangely obvious, to her at  least, that you have a crush on him. You make sure your  touch lingers whenever you touch him and though it’s a  fraction of a second longer, she notices.  

After that observation, she took note of your body language  around him, whenever you’re talking to him, you always hold  eye contact, you lick your lips a lot, touch him a fuck ton,  blink a hell of a lot too.  

It’s not just you with the obvious body language, Ran is  guilty of that too. Whenever you’re not looking at him, his  eyes are always trained on the side of your face, waiting for  you to turn to him. The second you do, his eyes are the first  thing you come into contact with. 

He always does an excellent job at flustering you, always  leans down to your level too, standing too close to you, he’s  playful too but that might just be his personality. He mocks  you a lot, playfully, and as much as you act annoyed at him,  you both know it’s just another way of saying continue please.  

“Are you done changing?” Maki bangs on the bathroom door  to get your attention, “make sure to wear the slutty dress I  left in your closet. Ran might like it—” 

“ Shut the fuck up .” Your eyes move over to the closet door,  the dress hanging up there, alone, and a spotlight shines over  it.  

Fuck dressing simple. 

You grab it, tug it on, smoothing the wrinkles down with  your palm before heading over to the bathroom door. “How  does this look?” 

Maki’s been spraying herself with more of your perfume and  Kyo’s picking at his nails before they both turn to face you.  

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLALALALAAAAAAAA!” Maki  grabs you, forcing you to do a spin and though you’re  frowning, your face is flushed with embarrassment as she  hypes you up. 

Kyo nods his head in approval. “Man to man, he’ll love that  dress.” 

“I don’t care what he loves.” You’re lying to yourself and  them and they both groan. 

“Whatever you say.” Kyo hops off the counter, checking the  time on his phone before slipping it into his back pocket. “We  should go, there’s like an hour left till midnight.” 

“Fuccccckkkkkk, I’m not even ready yet! I need more—” You  push past them both to grab at your perfumes again and Kyo  holds you back with his annoyingly strong arms, ushering you  out of the door as you try to fidget from his hold. 

“You smell extreme , trust me. I’m doing Ran a solid and  saving his nostrils tonight.” 

He dodges the kick you try to send his way.

“Don’t be rude, Kyo. She smells like Berry Mellow Blue—”  You want to hit her but she runs past you before you could. 

The entire ride there, your leg bounces anxiously, biting on  the tips of your nails as you stare out the window, the trees  and bushes still fresh with that winter snow. Kyo’s a sloppy  driver, taking aggressive turns and he’s not even wearing a  seatbelt. Yeah, he’d definitely get along with Haruchiyo.  

You make a note to introduce them to each other tonight.  

The car parks outside the building of Kokonoi’s penthouse.  He’s so boujee , he doesn’t like being in the dorms with  everyone else so he bought a fucking pent house instead.  

“I hate how rich your friends are.” Maki groans, eyeing up the  building in jealousy as she holds her hand out for you to slide  out the car, smoothing her hands under your dress when it  slips up your thigh. 

You nod, thanking her and avert your gaze elsewhere. You  recognise a couple cars from the parking lot at college,  Haruchiyo’s here, his car is painfully obvious. He stuck devil  horns on the side mirrors (????????), claiming they’re for the  aesthetic. 

No motorcycles though.  

“Do you think Ran’s here yet? I wanna be first to assert my  dominance, y’know”? 

Kyo slams the car door shut and begins walking. “If he was  here, we’d know. After all, you didn’t spray all that perfume  for him to attract him for nothing.” 

Maki gasps, “Like an ant to a cookie!” 

They snicker again and you glare at them. “You’re both not  funny.” 

Though you think they’re dragging the scent jokes, Maki  seems to love them. Love them so much to the point that  she’s laughing so loud and hard, she has to clutch her  stomach. “No seriously though, what scent were you trying to  achieve here? You smell like a rainbow pup rolled in perfume  oils and threw up all over your neck. You’re trying to attract  Ran, not repel him.”

“What the fuck is a rainbow pup?” Kyo looks back at her,  opening the doors to the front of the building. 

Maki shrugs. “Pups are cute, rainbows are excessive. She  smells cute but excessive.” He seems to understand her well  enough and nods his head. 

You’ve had enough of their antics for the day.  

Heading inside first, it’s almost embarrassing how quickly  you’re searching for Ran, eyes darting to every corner of  Kokonoi’s penthouse. When you finally see him, he’s lounging  on the couch, talking to his brother as they pass around a  blunt in a group.  

Your mouth goes dry as your nerves take over your body,  unconsciously smoothing down your dress, freeing it from any  wrinkles as you slowly make your way towards the couch. A  girl appears from fucking nowhere just as soon as you get  close enough and slots herself down next to him.  

The first thing you notice is how pretty she is, all long legs  and confident. She does a good job at stealing Ran’s attention  away from his brother, using two fingers to grab the blunt  from his hands and bring it up to her lips. His eyes are trained  on her lips as she inhales and honestly you don’t blame him  either, she’s fucking gorgeous.  

“Damn, who’s that?” Kyo places his elbow on your shoulder,  sipping on a cup of Bourbon.  

“I dunno, but he seems busy so I’m gonna—” You turn on your heel, slipping away to leave but Kyo grabs onto your forearm.  

“Why’re you leaving? Just go sit next to him, there’s a spot  right there.” 

“You don’t get it! I can’t just—” You gesture towards her, then  towards you and his brow knit in confusion. “I—forget it.  Where did you get that?” You switch subjects and point over  to his cup.  

“Over there. Hey! We can play beer pong together!” 

Kyo can’t see the fake smile you put on as you let him whisk you away, down to another corner of the party. Every now and then, your eyes would trail back over to the couch. They seem to have gotten closer, physically at least. She’s laughing now as he talks and gets more handsy too. There’s this prickly feeling inside your gut, churning the longer you see her touch his shoulders, gently pushing him away the longer she laughs.

You’re a girl . You know what she’s doing. You’ve pulled the same moves out a couple times when trying to get your way with a guy. Ran isn’t yours, you know that, he knows that, everybody knows that; but you just can’t bring yourself to look over at their direction anymore.

Whenever you enter a room, Ran’s always the first to greet you, hug you, annoy you, same all. Though you push him away, tell him to knock it off, it’s code for please acknowledge me more . 

Fuck him. Who cares anyway. 

A rough tap to your shoulder brings you back to your current situation. 

“What’re you spacing out for?! Don’t lose the game!” Some random guy shouts at you and hands you the ball. 

“Oh.. yeah sure.”

You had honestly forgotten it was your turn. The game goes by pretty well, around ten more minutes of screaming and Kokonoi comes by and makes a deal, proposing the winner of the next game gets some cash.

Kyo practically had money symbols in his eyes and went his hardest only to lose. You comforted him after he lost and during all that, some guy had been eyeing you from across the table. Though your mind, body and soul was still trying to get little sneak peeks over at that corner of the room where Ran was, you decided to forget about him and humour this guy instead.

You ditched the ball and head over to his side of the table, brushing your hand against his arm, complimenting his muscles, smiling pretty up at him. 

He talks way too much, you notice and you’re stuck nodding your head every couple seconds to show him you’re ‘listening’ when in regard you’re too busy glancing over at the clock, waiting for it to hit midnight—definetly still not sneaking peeks over at that couch in the back of the room.

Nothing’s changed. They’re still talking, flirting—whatever. And he still hasn’t acknowledged your presence.

“Hey, do you wanna smoke?” You cut him off mid sentence, looking away from the couch and up at him. He looks down at you, cheeks hot and flushed when you run your fingers up his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt with that cunning smile on your face.

“Sure, yeah holdon.” He puts his cup down, handing it to his friend without as much as an explanation and you grab his hand, leading him to the couch. 

You consider yourself a petty person, which is why you absolutely do not feel sorry when you purposefully trodded on Ran’s feet as you stepped past him and that girl on the way to sit on the other end of the couch. 

“Oh shit sorry!” You apologise to the girl—who’s feet you didn’t step on. She giggles and you frown internally, she sounds so sweet; no wonder Ran’s attention has been stolen by her for the last fourty minutes. 

“It’s okay!! You didn’t hit me.” Her smile is just as sweet as her voice as she gestures towards Ran next to her. 

Your eyes trail over to Ran just as his eyes—that were taking a journey down the beauty that is your body—return back to your face. The first thing he notices is that you look good , better than he’s ever seen you so far.

You look at him, face clearly annoyed, and mutter out “Oh, okay.” 

Ran’s brows knit in confusion at that reaction, and he gets even more confused when you hold your hand out behind you, some guy comes up and intertwines your fingers together. You have this lovestruck smile on your face as he leads you over to the end of the couch. 

Oh. So that’s the game you’re playing?

“I’ll be right back.” Ran stands up; the girl he’s been talking to now left alone on the couch. He sneaks up behind you, long slender fingers covering your eyes and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Guess who?”

You rip his hands off your eyes and glare up at him for a few seconds, then turn back to that guy. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Ran stands up to his full height and tells the guy you were with to fuck off. It’s annoyingly hot how the guy scrambles away almost instantly, almost spilling his drink on his shirt with how fast he rose.

You frown deepens when the couch dips as Ran takes his seat next to you, a little too close for comfort. Crossing your arms, you ignore the slide of his arm against your shoulder, pulling you in for a hug from the side.

“Yo, you good?” He jostles you for good measure and when you don’t respond, he leans forward to examine you. Any fool with eyes and a bit of common sense could tell you’re angry and annoyed at something, but he just doesn’t know what.

He doesn’t miss the way your jaw clenches every couple seconds, as if stopping yourself from spitting verbal vitirol.

“Hey, look at me.” His voice got deeper as his mood switched from playful to serious. You hate how your stomach turns at the sudden switch and you adjust yourself in your spot, subtly rubbing your thighs together in the process.

When you don’t look, his hand pinches at your jaw, your cheeks squishing under his grip. “Aw, you look so cute like this.” He coos, thumb brushing at your lower lip and for a second you almost fall apart under his hold until you remember why you were upset to begin with.

“Let go—” You sound muffled and Ran smiles again when wrinkles form above your eyebrows from scowling so much. “Ran, let go.”

There’s no point trying to rip his hand off, not when he’s squishing your cheeks this hard. It’ll end in abstract failure and the last thing you’d want is to stroke his ego.

“Why should I? You look so cute like this,” he squishes your face even harder, moving his hand around so you look all swollen. “You gonna tell me why you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.” 

He scoffs, finally letting go. You massage your cheeks, frowning at him again. “You’re not mad, huh? Where’s my hug then?”

“What fucking hug.”

“You don’t know what a hug is?” 

You’re so over this conversation. You stand up and smooth down your dress just in case it’s ridden up and start walking only to be dragged back to your original spot.

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Why do you care?” 

A simple tug on your arm has you falling back to the couch and you hate how easy he can manhandle you. “You’re not leaving till you tell me why you’re mad.”

“I’m fine . Go back to that girl from before.” Though you were obviously annoyed before, now you just sound downright hateful and Ran’s eyebrows raise, amused.

“Ohhhh, I get it.” He shifts forward and you scoot back to keep some distance. You hit the armrest of the couch, unable to shift more and he takes that opportunity to close the distance, nose brushing yours. You swear your ribcage is closing in on itself from the close proximity but refuse to let him see your facade cracking. “You’re jealous , aren’t you?”

“The fuck ?” You do your best to sound disgusted but it fails, you end up sounding doubtful, like that wasn’t even the conclusion you came up with but deep down knew it was true. “Why’d I be jealous of you? Not like we’re together…or anything.”

He shrugs, leaning back and giving you back that blessed space. “True, we’re just friends anyway.”

Uh, ouch. 

“We are?”

He looks at you like it’s obvious knowledge, a chuckle leaving his lips that basically screams ‘Uh, no shit?’ and you want to sink inside the couch cushion and disappear. The fuck even is this? He treats you more like a girlfriend than ‘just a friend’ and when it comes down to it, he just thinks of you as a friend? 

Fuck this.

Now your mood is funky again. 

“Yeah, whatever.” You stand up and walk away quickly, not even sparing him as much as a second glance. You find the guy you were talking to by the staircase. After a couple minutes of talking, you find out his name is Kaji and let him take you upstairs to ‘talk’ more.

The party was a bummer after that. The lay wasn’t even worth it, though Kaji was hot, he was terrible in bed and you had to fake your orgasm. You went home after that, Ran’s words still ringing in your ear was enough to leave you depressed for the rest of the day. Kyo got laid, thankfully, and it wasn’t a total flop. Maki went home early because she felt sick from drinking too much. 

The boys lingered around to help Kokonoi clean up the place, and by clean up; it really means Kakucho. The rest of them sat at the gambling table, playing a quick game to pass time.

Ran, on the other hand, trods over to his brother and snatches the drink from his hand and downs it with annoyance. 

“Uh, okay I guess.” Rindou looks confused, shuffling the cards at hand. “Any reason you’re this upset or?”

“Nah,” he wipes a hand over his chin, catching the droplets of beer on his sleeve. “I need to get laid, right now.”

“There was literally like 50 girls at the party that just ended.” Koko gives his useless opinion, also shuffling his own cards.

“Okay and maybe I didn’t want them, did you ever think of that, Koko?” Maybe he’s a little too abrupt, he knows it, everyone at the table knows it. 

Hanma has a smile on his face, enjoying Ran in this funky mood like the sadist he is. Haruchiyo’s stroking his eyelashes, stopping them from curling into his eye, and only half listening to the conversation.

Rindou puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder, hoping it calms him down a little.“Wasn’t that girl you’re always hanging out with here? Just go fuck her.”

“What, (Y/n)?” Rindou nods his head; Ran shakes his own. “No, we’re just friends.”

“Huh!?” Haruchiyo calls out from the other end of the table, not so subtly eavesdropping. “I thought you were dating this entire time! I was gonna go find you and tell you I thought she was cheating on you because she went upstairs with this one dude.” He stops talking to take another long gulp of his drink, throat dehydrated from talking so much. “I was like damn, the audacity of that girl to flirt with someone else when her man is right here. But it makes sense now I guess.”

Ran stares at him like he’s an idiot, though that’s just the usual stare he gives Haruchiyo so nothing changed there. “You guys never had platonic friendships with girls before, I swear to God.”

“Uh,” Rindou side-eyes him, “ we have platonic relationships with girls. You don’t.”

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Hanma giggles as Rindou starts talking again. “You like to touch her. All the time. Flirt with her, always get playful around her, sometimes even possessive. No wonder we thought you were dating.”

There’s an unlawful silence in the room. All eyes on Ran as they think he’s processing Rindou’s words and coming to a conclusion that maybe… just maybe he realises he was leading you on the entire time.

So imagine the disappointment on all their faces when he just shrugs and says, “And?”

Haruchiyo almost slams his head on the desk, imagining it was Ran’s head instead, hoping it knocks some common sense into his mind. 

“Oh my god, you’re hopelelss.” Koko laughs, standing up from the table to grab some water. He’s starting to get a headache.

“What?” 

“The worst part about this is that he genuinely seems confused.” Rindou runs his fingers through his hair, wanting to pull at his strands from sheer frustration. “Bro, anyone with eyes can see you guys aren’t just friends.”

“I thought we were! She flirts with me, I flirted back.” 

Mikey finally talks for the first time tonight, voice soft yet low at the same time. “Did it…ever occur to you…that she flirted with you…because she liked you?”

Haruchiyo snaps his fingers in Mikey’s direction, wholeheartedly agreeing, mumbling that’s a good point , under his breath.

“You don’t flirt with friends.” Ran defends.

“Well, do you like her?”

That question is one he cannot answer himself because he doesn’t know. It’s weird what he feels. He doesn’t love you, but he doesn’t just like you either. He treats you differently than his other friends, and would ditch his plans for you if you asked. But love? That’s a bit extreme. 

“I don’t love her.”

“Nobody said love, we said like .” 

Kakucho returns to the table, slotting himself beside Mikey and looks around the table. There’s a tense atmosphere in the room and he looks around, confused. “...Did I miss anything?”

“No,” Hanma sighs, covering his smile behind his huge hand, “just a little therapy session for our emotionally unavailble friend.” He points over to Ran and he scowls.

“We aren’t friends.”

“I don’t care.”

“Anyway,” Rindou cuts them both off before they can start another argument. “Answer the question, do you like her? Not love, like, the transitive verb—”

“I know what like means, stupid.” 

Another giggle that has Ran wanting to shove his baton down Hanma’s throat. Not in a kinky way. “I like her, as a friend.”

A collective groan leaves the table and Haruchiyo sighs, rubbing his temples. “So…you wouldn’t care if I messaged her, right?”

Ran side-eyes him, accordingly. “Do you not message her already?”

“No, you fuckin’ idiot. Message her in the way you do.”

“What?”

“Okay, picture this—” Haruchiyo stands up, walking over to Ran’s chair, placing his hand on his shoulder and leans down to his ear, “You won’t care if I went to her house right now , kissed those pretty lips of hers, laid her on the bed, gently , kissed down her chest, sucking her nipples into my house, kissing that cute birthmark on the underside of her boob so tenderly—”

Mikey interrupts the little fantasy. “How the fuck do you know that?”

Haruchiyo only winks, keeping it a secret, not missing the way Ran’s jaw clenches the longer he’s picturing his hands on your body. Seeing he’s on the right track, he continues, “You won’t care if I marked up her thighs with kisses and hickies, spread her legs open and ate her out so slowly till she pulls at my hair and cums on my tongue, then I’ll fuck her so hard and so deep that she forgets the name of any other man that’s not me. Including you. But you won’t care, right? Cause you’re just friends?”

Koko breaks the silence. “Seems like you’re the one in love with her Haruch—”

“Shut the fuck up, Koko.” He turns back to Ran, “answer me.”

Ran gives a not-so convincing shrug of his shoulders, “I won’t care.”

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn. I can’t do this.” Rindou stands up, heading towards the kitchen. He needs another drink. Maybe he’d be able to continue the conversation after shit-faced.

“Alright. I’ma go see her. See you guys tomorrow.”

They all say bye to Haruchiyo as he walks over to grab his jacket and leave but Ran’s a step faster, grabbing him by the arm, stopping him. “Okay, I get it? Alright, I like her, just leave her alone.”

Mikey clears his throat to get his attention. “Go tell that to her , not us.”

And he does just that. 

There’s a harsh knock on your door  that you miss over the loud volume of music playing over  your speakers. You’re knuckle deep inside yourself, trying  to get yourself off since Kaji from earlier failed too.  

But nothing is working.  

Your fingers just aren’t working . With a frustrated sigh, you  lean over to your bedside drawer, pulling out your vibrator  and power it on, only to realise the batteries are dead.  

“ You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”  

Grabbing the nearest jacket, you tug it on, still fully naked  underneath, just need something to protect you from the  coldness in your house.  

You scour the living room, tryna find a new source for  batteries. It’s pitch black in your place, you don’t bother  turning the lights on.  

The front door opens by itself, the lock being picked from  the outside and the next thing you know, Ran stands  before you, bobby pin in hand with a slack jaw as he looks  at you, wide eyed like he’d been caught committing a  crime.  

Technically, he was . But that’s a conversation for another  day.  

“What, so we’re breaking into peoples houses now?” It’s a  miracle that the lights are off, because you forget you’re  completely naked, wearing nothing but a jacket as you  steal batteries from your remote.  

“And you just walk around naked, for what reason?” Even  in the dark, there’s no hiding how pale your face just went  right now, like a ghost took over your mind, body and soul  in that instance.  

To make matters worse, he walks over to the light switch,  flicking it on, your half— semi naked body on full display.  

“Nice.” He smiles, all confident and cheeky. 

“You are actually a pervert.” You zip up your jacket, hoping  he didn’t see too much. “Now what do you want?”  

The vibrator in your hand is still blatantly obvious, nothing  is hiding the bright pink object in hand. Ran’s eyebrows  raise for a moment when he notices it. When he came  over, he was planning to talk to you, not…this.  

Not like he’s complaining though.  

“Just wanted to talk to you, but you seem…pretty busy.” He  walks over to your couch, kicking his legs up on the table  and watches your jaw clench at his ministrations. “So are  you down to talk now? Or should I leave.” 

“Duh! Get out! I’m busy.” 

“Busy masturbating?”  

You stuff your vibrator up your sleeve, hiding it as if the damage wasn’t already done. “I don’t know what you’re  talking about.” 

“Lemme help you.” 

Your brain goes foggy. You slowly turn to look at him;  waiting for him to take it back, for him to laugh and say  kidding ‘we’re just friends’ and utter humiliate you for the  second time tonight.  

You stay silent till that moment happens. Five seconds  pass. Then ten. The fifteen second mark is just awkward  and you realise you need to say something.  

 Clearing your throat, you mutter, “…what?”  

“I said,” he stands up, crossing the distance between you  both rather quickly, grabbing onto your waist to tug you  closer, “let me help you.” 

Your mouth goes dry. 

 “I need—” Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips and  Ran shamelessly watches the action, dick twitching in his  pants. 

“You need…?” 

You slowly push him off you and head to the kitchen. “I  need water.” 

He follows behind you, waiting at the counter, chin in hand  as you down a freshly cold bottle of water in under ten  seconds.  

You toss the empty bottle in the bin and head over towards  him, standing at the other end of the counter to keep your  distance. “Why do you do this to me, Ran? Do you enjoy  seeing me have a heart attack or are you just sadistic?” 

“What are you—” 

“You know, I seriously don’t get you. You act so close to  me all the time, treat me like more than a friend, then  when it comes down to it…you just tell me we are just  friends. Do you know how confusing that is? What do you  want from me, honestly? I—I just need to know. If you just wanna get laid, then fucking tell me instead of treating me like I’m  someone special and then tossing it all away last second.” 

You’re panting when you finish, hands balled into fists, fingernails digging painfully into the skin of your palms. His eyes are blown wide for a split second and he looks awfully sincere, guilt spreading on his shoulders.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way.” 

You cross your arms. “Well, know you now. So…what now?” 

He stands up and heads over towards you, arms pulling  you closer by your waist. Though you want to push him  away, you let him tug you closer, let your arms wrap  around him and rest your cheek on his chest.  

He always smells so good, it’s always been one of your  favourite things about him. One of his braids tickles against  your ear and you giggle, brushing it away with your hand.  

Your face is lifted by his hand, soaking in the sight of your  flustered face, how you blink rapidly as if trying to process  if this is reality or just a dream you’re trying to snap out of. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise it before.” He’s cupping your cheek, brushing his thumb underneath your cheekbone. You automatically lean into his touch and let your eyes squeeze shut as he leans downwards to kiss you.  

Your neck strains as you surge upwards to meet his lips, hands stalking up to his neck to hold him closer. The grip on your waist is almost painful, digging his hands into your flesh. He pulls away, lifting you up almost easily onto the counter.

“Ask me again.” You shift your hands onto his shoulders, peeking up at him through your lashes.

“Ask you what?” 

“If you want to help me…” You catch the edge of Ran’s smirk and bite your own back when he trails his hands down the zipper of your jacket. 

“Lay down,” he commands, and you follow his instructions, leaning backwards until your back is flat on the counter. He slowly unzips your jacket, and you feel like he’s going extra slowly on purpose, to taunt you. 

You shift, sliding your arms through the sleeves to tug your jacket off. “No—don’t, leave it on .” He’s tugging it back on and you stare up at him, slow ‘nd playful.

“You’re so weird.”

“You look good, shut up.” He’s spreading your legs, and you can’t help but admire his big hands roaming your thighs, his eyes glued onto the sight of your wet cunt. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“I—uh,” You whimper as his fingers trail down your slit, catching some slick on the tips of his fingers and brings it up mouth, flicking his tongue against his fingers. “Oh, god —” You keen when he fills you again, pushing his fingers past your walls.

“Feel good?” He fucks you with his fingers, enjoying you squirm on the counter. He curls his fingers at just the right angle and your back arches off the counter. “Hm, thought so.”

You reach out for him, weakly grabbing onto the hem of his shirt, and tug on it twice.

“You want me to take it off?” He laughs when you struggle to speak, a third finger pushing inside to only add to the pleasure. He’s doing this on purpose, he has to be; whenever you’re about to talk, he curls his fingers, hooks them onto your spot and the words die on your tongue, falling back down your throat.

“You’re bein’ too loud, girl ,” he looks around your apartment, walls as thin as ever, “want people to file a complaint?”

“Just—” Your eyebrows knit in frustation, the warmth in your belly pooling and swirling around the longer his fingers twist inside you, “—make me cum, please.”

“Is that an order?”

You pant as his thumb gently circles your clit, applying a little pressure agaisnt your tiny nub, leaning forward to suck a breast into his mouth. His tongue swirls agaisnt the pebbeled flesh, his fingers increasing in speed inside you.

“ Please Ran, I need—”

“Need what?”

Need you to fill me, you want to say, need you inside me , you want to cry out but embarrassment grows inside you, your hands cover your face and shake your head.

“Oi,” A harsh smack against your thigh has you squealing, “need what?”

“…you know what I need, Ran, c’mon don’t make me say it.”

His laugh tickes along your nipple, and he kisses down your belly. “I dunno what you’re talkin’ bout.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks just above your pelvis, sensually sucking your flesh into his mouth and curling his fingers wickedly. “Please fuck me.” You whimper under your breath, heart beating twice as fast when he looks up at you.

He pulls his fingers out and gesture for you to sit up. Ignoring the slight ache between your thighs, you sit up, wincing at the cold marble brushing against your butt. “Open your mouth.”

You don’t hesitate, opening wide and he stuffs his fingers into your mouth, massaging his wet fingers against your tongue. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck your slick off his fingers, bobbing your head.

“Pretending my fingers is my cock, huh?” You nod your head rapidly and he cups your cheek, lifting your gaze up to him. He can see your mouth swallowing his fingers, eyes focused on his fingers disappearing between those pretty lips.

Your hands trail down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and tugging him closer, all the while swallowing the saliva pooling inside your mouth. He groans when your throat closes around his fingers and you grin, popping his fingers out of your mouth and surge upwards for a kiss.

His hand remains flush on your cheek, controlling the direction and angle of your face, tongue sliding out to lick into your mouth. Your hand finds its way down his pants, and he shivers when you stroke his cock through the fabric of his boxers. “I got a question.”

“Yeah?” You peck him once more for good measure, moving your lips down to his neck.

“How long have you liked me?”

You lick down the column of his throat, feeling his adam’s apple under your tongue bob as he swallows. “A while now,” your fingers slip inside his boxers, gripping the length of his cock in your hand, “about a year now.”

“Fuck, ‘m so stupid.” A dry chuckle leaves him, followed by a hiss when your hand slowly slides up his shaft. 

“‘S not your fault,” you kiss him, softly biting down on his lips before pulling away, sliding off the counter to get on your knees. “Can I make you feel good?”

You were eye level with his cock, hard and ready, pressing through the leg of his pants. He winds his fingers in your hair, massaging your scalp as you tug his boxers down. Licking your lips, his cock bobs free, standing thick and hard in front of your face. 

Your mouth pops open as you inhale shakily when he guides you forward with the grip on your head. 

“Tilt your head back f’me.” 

Obediently, you do as you were told, jerking slightly when he grabs onto the base of his cock, brushing the head against your lips. Your tongue darts out, licking at his tip as your hand slithers up to join his own, wrapping them over his bigger ones and jerk him slowly, pushing more precum onto the tip of your tongue. 

“ Fuck , that’s good,” he moans, hissing through clenched teeth as he pushes forward, stretching your mouth open to fit his thick girth. His cock nudges the back of your throat and you gag, hands flying to his hips to steady yourself.

The taste of him was faint, a salty aftertaste lingering on your tongue. Your jaw aches when he picks up the pace, pulling you forward by your hair, keeping your nose pressed against his pelvis as your throat convulses and spasms around his tip. 

“Fuck, fuck so tight— ” He holds you there for a couple more seconds, barely giving you a minute of peace before he’s snapping his hips back and forth, shoving his cock as far into your mouth as it can reach. 

The heavy weight of his cock against your tongue had tears pooling in your eyes, your nails digging into your palms as you kneel there, taking his cock without putting up a fight. 

Your jaw hurts , your tongue is sore and your palms sting but it’s all worth it hearing his moans, soft breathy grunts from above you as he uses your throat for his pleasure.

Ran pulls free, yanking you up, into his arms and carries you over to your room. He sets you on your bed and you grab onto his braid, tugging it gently to pull him on top of you. “Fuck me, please,” you breathe, kissing his lips and readjusting your body on the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist, tugging your jacket off your body to throw it to some abandoned corner in your room.

“I don’t have a condom.” 

You’re already reaching downwards, tugging his cock forward to push it against your pussy. “I don’t care, need you please .”

Ran grins, pinning both your hands down above your head and leans forward, nose brushing yours. “Needy aren’t you?” He’s holding your wrists with one hand, the other one sliding downwards to your thighs to spread them apart. 

He stares at you whilst trying to find your entrance, his cock nudging against your thigh, your flaps before slipping inside. “Ran—” you throw your head back and moan and he takes the oppurtunity to reach down, sucking down your neck. “ Mm , fuck—yes—”

He fucks into you with a grunt, rolling and grinding his hips against yours until you squeak, hands squirming around underneath his hold, trying to wrestle free and hold him. 

“Ran— Ran please—” You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, all you know is it’s not enough. You wanna hold him, wanna feel his body heat against you, want him to pound you into the mattress. “ Harder, p-please—”

“ Fuck , wait hold on,” he lets go of your wrist, pulling out and flipping you over on your belly and gives your ass a spank. It stings when gripping onto the flesh for longer, nudging his cock back inside you. 

He fucks you at a punishing pace, fast and hard, a hand splaying across your back to arch it more, nudging that spot inside you that makes you scream. “Right there?” He hits it again and you fist the sheets, pussy tightening around his cock he swears he almost cums instantly. 

“ There, right there R-ran—”  

The mattress shifts beneath you at his pace, your hand flying behind you to hold onto him. “Slow down , wa—wait, I think I’m— oh fuck —I’m gonna cum—”

“Yeah?” He looks down, his cock coated in your slick and wetness, disappearing everytime he fucks back into you, “Lemme see.”

Your hand slips between your legs, desperately rubbing at your clit and your body shakes, moans abnormally loud and your voice cracks as he fucks you through your high, thumbs digging into your lower back before he stills, hips flushed against yours and pinning you down the mattress. His cum spurts out against your walls, the head of his cock pulsing and twitching inside you.

“Oh my god ,” you huff out, breath raggedy and slow as you catch your breath. It felt so good feeling his warm cum fill you, especially when he rolls his hips twice more, each roll pressing you further into the mattress. 

“Holy fuck,” he pushes himself off you, flipping you over with the little energy he has left. He falls onto your chest, enjoying the feeling of your breasts on his face. “Gonna fuck you all the time, I swear.” He grumbles, shifting to press a kiss onto your nipple, sucking it slowly into his mouth.

You drag slow strokes into his hair, biting your lip as his mouth suctions around your breast. “You know…” you start, breathless, “my friends are gonna freak when they find out about this.”

“Yeah? Why?” He looks distracted, playing with your tits, kneading them beneath his large hands. 

“Because they ship us, like hardcore.”

He chuckles, you feel the vibrations ripple throughout your body, ringing inside your ears. “That’s cute. Which friends?” 

“Maki and Kyo, here wait—”  You shift upwards, reaching across your bedside table for your phone. By the time you plop back down to bed, you’re resting your head on his chest whilst scrolling through your photos. “Here’s what they look like.” 

You hand him the phone, watching as he scrolls through the photos of you and your friends. “Oh, wait, I've seen her before.” He points to Maki on screen, seated on top of your lap and smiling at the camera.

“Yeah, she talks to Kakucho sometimes.”

As if Maki could sense you talking about her, your phone rings, incoming call. You swipe to answer it, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Did you cum yet, or did that idiot from the party give you blue balls?” 

You shoot up so quickly, regretting you ever put her on speaker phone. You’d completely forgotten you’d told her about your horrible sex from the party and she told you to go release some stress at home by yourself.

“I—uh, well, yeah? I did…”

Ran chuckles from beside you, holding the back of your neck and pulling you back down to his chest. “And I helped her.” His hand trails down your naked body, clapping a firm hand against your ass and you squeal upon impact. 

Maki freezes from the other end of the line before she squeals loudly, “OHMYGODDDDDDDD! IS THIS REAL!”

“‘No, it’s not. I just have voice recordings of Ran’s voice to keep around.” 

“Okay, sarcasm isn’t fucking funny. I’m too fucking excited to be mad at you right now.” Maki shoots up from her bed, “KYO! THEY GOT TOGETHER!”

“Huh?” 

You cover your face with both hands as you hear her run down the stairs at light speed. “Oh my god, they’re so embarrassing.” You hide your face between the junction of Ran’s shoulder and groan. 

The sounds of their talking is drowned out when Ran lifts your face up by your chin, leaning down to kiss you, goading you into letting him suck sensually on your tongue. 

“Oh, now they’re making out—” 

His hand massages your ass in his hand, tearing little breathy gasps from your lips every now and then. 

“I can’t tell if this is cute or a total invasion of privacy.”

“Leave them alone, Kyo, let them fuck in peace.”

“Hang up the phone then.”

You break the kiss to reach for your phone and hang up when Maki speaks up again. “Oh and Ran, don’t do too much, okay? I have plans with her tommorow and I need her to be in peak physical condition.”

Ran, out of spite,  then lifts you to sit on top of him, repositioning his cock inside you. You let out a soft moan when he bottoms out, hips flush against his own, spanking you again for good measure . “I’ll take that into consideration, but it might be a little too late for that.”

[stardewlegends]

[Part 2] The Day After The Day Before | Sebastian x Reader, Platonic!Sam x Reader (Angst, mild Fluff)

Category: Angst, Fluff (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Implied non-con, implied sexual assault, physical violence, blood, miscarriage, forced pregnancy, physical violence, verbal abuse, bleeding, head injury, hospitalisation, explicit language Ship: Sebastian x Reader, Platonic!Sam x Reader, implied Sam x Sebastian x Reader Summary: She'd heard so many good things about her best friend, Sam's, father, Kent, and it was true, he was lovely! Right up until he wasn't. How was she meant to tell Sebastian? Sam? The answer is simple: she couldn't. But apparently she couldn't hide it either. Request: N/A Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 6k

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Almost six months have passed since the day (Y/N) learnt she was pregnant with that monster’s child. She decided to keep the baby. It was a hard decision, unsure whether she’d permanently be traumatised every time she looked at her child but thought about it more prominently as Sam’s brother than Kent’s son or daughter.

Sebastian and Sam, as promised, supported her the whole way. It’s not like she had anyone else. Harvey and Maru were judge-free too and have been helping her throughout the entire process.

Sebastian and Sam moved on to the farm with her, Sam occupying the spare room whilst Sebastian shared hers. It was fun. They helped her grow once again into the bright, chatty woman she once was before he took it all away.

Jodi never welcomed Sam back into their home after that Godforsaken day. She spread rumours about Kent’s beaten up face. Said that Sebastian had gaslighted Sam into abusing the family. Said that Sebastian was the one who raped (Y/N). Oh, yeah, a real likely story. Robin and Demetrius tried to get answers out of Sebastian about what actually happened, but he didn’t give them any information. He simply told his mother that he was moving onto the farm with (Y/N) and Sam to support her as she’s pregnant. Clarified it wasn’t his child. Robin didn’t interfere much more than that, Demetrius making snark comments at the boy which is just ignored.

Abigail regularly came by when she could, but Caroline forbid it. Naturally, Jodi opened her mouth and made the farmer the talk of the town. No one really gossiped about it except Jodi. She would do anything to protect her husband, and if that meant making everyone in Pelican Town hate the little bitch who took over the farm then so be it.

On the farm, Sam absolutely adored her chickens. Who knew the skater boy enjoyed farming so much? Sebastian enjoyed collecting fruit from all the trees, being sad in Winter when that wasn’t something he could do. They always went out foraging for some crystal fruits though. The pair made sure that she didn’t have to lift a finger anymore. Not whilst pregnant.

“I wanna go to the saloon.” (Y/N) admits one Friday night as the trio are watching some grid ball game on the television.

The two men look at her with surprised expressions on their faces.

“You serious?”

She nods but keeps her eyes on the screen across the room.

“I miss playing pool on Friday nights. I miss Gus and Emily listening to my boring farm talk, I miss Clint telling me about what cool shit he managed to forge together out of the leftover ore I had, I miss Willy’s voice shaking the place as he tells Clint all about some huge as Scorpion Carp he found…” The woman trails off. “I miss being normal.” “Then let’s go to the saloon.” Sam states. “People are gonna stare…” The woman trails off. “Let them; you look stunning.” Sebastian tells her, watching her blush and curl into him. “He’s right.” The blond adds, smirking and flashing a wink. “Come on, you’ve got me and Seb by your side - nothing will happen to you. Besides, as much as my mom is capable of opening her huge fucking mouth, the town adores you too much to listen.”

(Y/N) wishes she believed him. She’s trying to.

Sam calls up Abigail, asking her to come down and meet them at the saloon. She’s never been so excited to watch the boys play pool.

They walk down, basking in the late-Spring breeze that surrounds them.

“I’ve missed town.” (Y/N) sighs, smiling at the sight of the buildings around her in the town square. “I dunno why, it’s shite.” Sebastian remarks, the trio chuckling at the sarcasm.

They come to a halt outside of the Stardrop, the two men patiently waiting for the woman to be ready to go inside.

“It’ll be okay. My family don’t even come in here.” Sam reassures.

She nods and they finally enter. Peoples heads turn to acknowledge whoever has just walked in and the chat immediately dies down.

(Y/N) wonders if Sebastian is nervous, knowing the rumours were that he’s the one who knocked her up without consent. He doesn’t seem phased. The truth is he isn’t. The people who matter know the truth, and anyone who believes the lies aren’t worth having around.

The farmer’s convinced everyone heard her gulp.

Sam and Sebastian don’t falter, the latter reaching for the woman’s hiding and offering an encouraging smile. He’ll take anything that is thrown her way. Both of them will. She knows it. She’s grateful.

As Sebastian leads her into the pool room, Elliott’s voice speaks up.

“(Y/N),” He calls, the woman freezing. Sam and Sebastian do too. The trio turn to look at the man sitting at the bar, everyone’s eyes on them. “It’s good to see you back.”

The tears that well up in her eyes are staining her cheeks before she can even attempt to hide them.

Elliott smiles and stands up, Leah admiring his confidence, approaching the farmer, opening his arms for a hug which she graciously accepts.

“Thank you so much.” She whimpers into his burgundy jacket. “No need, little lady. We’ve missed you more than you know.”

The red-head offers a smile at the two men whom the farmer walked in with, them returning it with a nod.

“How many weeks are you now?” He asks, admiring the prominent bump under the woman’s dress. “Twenty-four.” She whispers, naturally resting her hands there. “You know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” “Keeping it a surprise.” “Nice.”

Elliott heads back to the bar, taking a seat by Leah, and (Y/N) continues her path toward the pool table with Sebastian and Sam.

The tension is already gone thanks to Elliott and the night is pretty relaxing. Abigail joins them shortly after they arrive, her constantly talking to the baby bump as if it’s gonna respond.

“I’m gonna go order a drink from the bar - I wanna chat with Gus and Emily.” (Y/N) states, her three friends nodding and smiling in admiration. “Okay, doll; we’ll be right here.”

She nods at Sebastian with a smile before heading over to the bar, standing beside Elliott.

“Hey, Gus,” She greets, the bartender offering her a warm smile. “Evenin’, farmer. Good to see ya face again. What’re ya havin’?”

She giggles at his attempted farmer’s accent.

“Just a blackcurrant and soda water, please?” “Comin’ right up, ma’am.” “It really is good to see your face again, (Y/N).” Elliott comments, turning to face the woman once again. “I appreciate it so much.” She whispers, tearing up again.

He smiles and wraps his arm around her before picking up his drink.

“Ladies and Gents, if I could have your attention, please,” The red-head begins, (Y/N)’s eyes widening. “I’d like to raise a toast to our sweetheart of a farmer who joined our wonderful town and naturally made it a better place. She hasn’t been able to have our support lately but I’d like everyone now to raise a toast to this little lady in congratulations of the wonderful baby they’re carrying.” He announces, eyes locking with everyone in the bar. “To (Y/N)!”

And everyone does toast. Drinks in the air. Everyone cheering. Hell, even Clint does and he’s as quiet as anything.

The woman hides her face in Elliott’s jacket in embarrassment. He chuckles and strokes her back.

There’s some fun chat and banter throughout the bar as (Y/N) catches up with everyone, quickly feeling a lot more welcome in her local despite what her worrying thoughts warned her about.

So much fun going on that she doesn’t acknowledge the saloon doors opening.

“Well, well, well, this all looks awfully friendly.”

(Y/N) freezes up at the voice. She’s stood at the bar talking to Emily, the door directly behind her, along with the wife of that monster.

“Surprised the whore actually decided to show her face again.”

The farmer’s eyes clench shut as she fears everything that’s about to happen. Sam and Sebastian hear the voice and stride over to the archway that connects the pool room to the main bar.

“I presume you’ve also fucked the bitch by now, Samson.” Jodi snarks, turning to look at her son who stares her down.

Sebastian looks ready to kill.

“Jodi, I’m afraid if you’re going to be rude, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Gus states, trying to remain professional.

The woman smirks.

“Why do I have to leave when that little rat has been spreading her legs for everyone in order to ruin my life!?”

(Y/N) is trembling now, hands gripping onto the bar as if it’s keeping her from collapsing.

“Jodi,” Elliott speaks up, giving the woman a glare that tells her not to start. “Gus asked you to leave.” “Are you all stupid!?” “Mom-” “Don’t you dare call me your fucking mother!” Jodi instantly interrupts her son, pointing her finger.

Sam gulps but is prepared to fight this battle.

“And you!” The woman continues, pointing at the dark-haired boy standing beside her son. “You manipulative, gaslighting little shit!”

Sebastian doesn’t falter at her words. She’s delusional.

“What did you think you’d gain out of making my own son hate his father!?” “Kent did that himself.” The boy remarks, Jodi’s eyes flaring up with more anger. “You’re sick. You’re fucked in the head.”

Sebastian’s convinced that if his mother was here, she’d have lost her shit at Jodi by now.

“Perhaps, but my husband didn’t rape someone half his age whilst still married, so I guess I’ve got that going for me.”

The tension in the room is suffocating. People’s eyes widen as they acknowledge the truth in Sebastian’s words. Kent was the one who got her pregnant.

“Let’s just go.” (Y/N) manages, turning to look at her two best friends.

Jodi scoffs.

“Yeah, that’s right, run back to that petty little farm that you can’t even run properly so drag those two down with you. My son had a future before you fucked him up!”

The farmer sighs and turns around to finally meet Jodi’s glare.

The woman’s eyes widen at the sight of her belly and (Y/N) very rapidly realises that Jodi didn’t know.

“You have got to be fucking joking me.”

The woman at the bar freezes, shaking once more.

“I’m just gonna go home.” She manages, taking a step forward and turning toward the archway where her two best friends are standing, but that’s when Sebastian screams.

“NO!”

Everything happens too fast.

(Y/N)’s head whips back around just in time to see Jodi lunging for her, shoving the farmer with enough force to send her stumbling back into the bar, knocking the wind out of her, before falling into the bar stools and to the ground.

Sebastian and Sam dove forward but weren’t as fast as the silent man in the blue Joja jacket who grabs Jodi by her throat and slams her up against the wall of the saloon.

(Y/N)’s breaths are heavy, moaning in pain, hands wrapping around her belly as her two best friends drop down beside her, along with Elliott and Leah.

“I was always taught to never hit a woman but you’re no fucking lady.” Shane all but growls as Jodi gasps for breath, hands clawing at the man’s hand in an attempt to alleviate his grip. “Shane-” She gasps, eyes wide. “I could fucking kill you, you know that?” The man warns, grip not faltering. “You had the audacity to tell everyone in this town that Sebastian touched her without permission when in reality it was your shit-eating husband.” “Shane…” Marnie’s voice manages to reach his ears. He forgot she was here, to be honest. He doesn’t care.

Marnie isn’t telling him to stop, no. Marnie agrees wholeheartedly with his actions. He knows that. She’s warning him to be careful. To not get caught.

With another shove into the wall, Shane drops the woman, Jodi dropping to her knees as she gasps for breath once more. The man spins around and acknowledges Sebastian and Sam helping the pregnant woman stand up.

And that’s when he sees it.

“Get her to Harvey.” He states, eyes wide. “Yeah, no shit.” Sam manages, not intending to come across harshly. “No, seriously,” Shane adds. “Guys…” Elliott speaks up, Sebastian and Sam looking down and seeing the red stains on the floor where (Y/N) was lay.

The same red stains at the bottom of her dress. The same red stains leaking down her legs.

The two boys’ eyes widen and they look at one another before looking at the girl they’re holding who’s eyes are also on the mess.

“No…” She whimpers, legs giving in but Sebastian and Sam catch her. “Come on, baby, we’ve gotta get you to Harvey. The dark-haired boy manages, heading toward the door. “No, no, no, no, no, please!” She’s screaming. Sobbing. Her heart is shattering and everyone can see it.

Shane opens the door for the boys, sprinting ahead and banging on Harvey’s door.

“HARV, OPEN UP! EMERGENCY!” He yells, Sam and Sebastian slowly approaching with the screaming woman in their arms. “FOR FUCKS SAKE, HARVEY, OPEN UP!”

The doctor sprints to the door scared that Shane has relapsed once again, but this is so much worse.

“She’s bleeding.” They’re the only words Sam manages as he meets the scared gaze of Harvey.

He nods and ushers them inside, quickly preparing a bed for the woman where he injects her with some substance or other to knock her out, her screams dying down.

Sam and Sebastian are stood by the bed, bloodstains on their clothes, eyes wide as Harvey begins to work on the woman.

“Guys, come on, you’ve gotta let him work.” Shane attempts, they listen. They stare at the woman with lost eyes but let Shane lead them outside of the room.

They’re lost. Sam and Sebastian. Shane is talking to them both but neither of them can understand any of the words he’s saying. They simply manage to find each others’ gaze and cling onto each other in a bone-shattering hug.

Shane’s breaths are heavy. He isn’t exactly best friends with the farmer but she’s the only one who never judged him. She would always sit with him and have a drink. Buy him a pint or two. Saved his life when he hit an all-time low. He saw her as a friend, and she saw him as an equal. That was more than enough for him.

When he heard the gossip that Kent was attacked by Sebastian because the soldier threatened to expose that the quiet emo both was a rapist, he didn’t believe it. How could he? (Y/N) treated Sebastian with the same amount of care that she treated himself with. Now he knows he was right. Sebastian isn’t a bad guy, but that fucking asshole…

Hours pass. How many? Neither of the men are sure. Sebastian told Shane to go home after he calmed down. Thanked the man for defending (Y/N). Shane could only apologise that he wasn’t quick enough to stop the initial hit - Sam and Sebastian told him it wasn’t his fault. He wishes he believed them.

Harvey’s footsteps echo across the surgery, Sam and Sebastian immediately up on their feet and looking at the man with so much anticipation

“She’s still out but will probably wake in the next hour or so.” The doctor begins, the men somewhat nodding but awaiting the more important information.

Harvey sighs and removes his glasses from his face and ruffling his hair.

“Gents, I’m sorry, but the baby didn’t make it.”

Sebastian’s body starts to shut down. He remains frozen, eyes staring lifelessly at the brunet in front of him.

“Seb,” Sam whispers, noticing the absence of life in his friend.

The blond’s heartbroken. He’s crying. Not only was that his best friend’s kid, it was his half-brother.

Sebastian’s face turns to look at Sam, still remaining stoic.

“Why her?” He whispers, Harvey tearing up at the question. “What did she ever do to deserve this?”

Sam lets out a sob and shakes his head, looking around the room for the answer that doesn’t exist.

“She didn’t deserve this.” Is all he can whisper.

Another two hours pass. The two men are sitting on either side of her bed as she stirs. No words have been said between them.

A groan rumbles in her throat as the blinding light of the hospital room takes over her vision.

Sebastian is holding one hand whilst Sam is holding the other.

“Take it easy.” Sebastian whispers.

When the room finally starts to make more sense, the woman glances over at Sebastian and Sam.

“Hey…” It’s muffled against the oxygen mask covering her face. “Hi, gorgeous.” The dark-haired boy murmurs, forcing a smile despite his painfully obvious tear-stains.

She takes a moment to remember everything that happened but the gasp that escapes her follows a number of beeps from the monitors she’s hooked up to.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey, baby, calm down,” “Woah, (Y/N), it’s okay!”

Sam and Sebastian are both up on their feet trying to calm the now frantic woman down.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” Sebastian attempts, watching her head drop down and hands jump to her, now, flat belly. “No, no, no, NO, NO, NO!” She’s ripping the mask off of her face, tearing at all the wires in her body, throwing the bedsheets off of her as she gets a better look at her stomach.

Sebastian wraps his arms fully around the woman, cocooning her against him, whilst Sam stumbles back and throws his head back against the wall. His fists are clenched as silent tears pour down his face.

It took the woman months to come to terms with her pregnancy and decide she wanted it, picturing the perfect life with Sebastian and Sam by her side, but it's been ripped away from her.

“WHERE’S MY BABY!? WHERE’S MY BABY!?” She’s screaming, Sebastian sobbing and trying to keep her trapped against his body to stop her flailing about. “(Y/N), doll, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe for me.”

Harvey comes sprinting into the room and sees the state of the woman who’s just woken.

“SOMEBODY TELL ME WHERE MY BABY IS-” The woman’s screams fade out as Harvey injects her with some sort of drug to knock her out. “I’m sorry, I was upstairs organising some files.” The doctor utters, Sebastian pulling back from the woman so Harvey can fix up her wires.

The two boys don’t respond.

“What do we do, Harvey?” Sam whispers, still leaning against the wall, staring aimlessly at the unconscious woman. “She’s going to take a while to recover but with the right support around her, I think she’ll be fine.”

More silence.

“Can she ever get pregnant again?” Sebastian manages, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

It’s barely enough to relieve either of the men.

“Can she have sex?” The darker-haired boy continues to ask as many questions as possible, wanting to be ready to answer everything the woman may have when she wakes again. “Yes, but I would recommend waiting a couple of weeks before inserting anything into her vagina. Her cervix is open so she’s prone to infection.” Harvey answers all the questions with explicit professionalism. “Is she gonna be in pain?” Sam manages, his eyes flitting to Harvey for a moment before returning to (Y/N). “Some pain in the lower abdomen, similar to menstrual cramp pain, is quite common after a miscarriage,”

Sebastian’s eyes clench shut at the word itself.

“This should only last a couple of days really; if there’s any noticeably bad pain then you can come back to me and I can offer painkillers, but I won’t let her out of here until she feels up to it anyway.”

They both manage a nod.

“Is there anything we can do for her?” “She needs to continue to eat and drink plenty even though she may not feel up to it. Try and stop her doing physical work on the farm, she needs rest.” The boys continue to nod in understanding as Harvey speaks. “She will probably struggle to sleep for a while honestly.”

There’s silence after that as Harvey switches about the wires and tubes in the woman’s body.

“If she wakes up again, press this button and I’ll be right in.” “Thanks, Harvey.”

It’s an hour later when the doctor returns with a knock at the door.

“Sorry to interrupt, gents, but Robin is here and has asked if she can see you, Sebastian?” Harvey states, Sam looking at his friend, curious for the response. “Is she welcome in here?”

Harvey nods.

“Of course.”

A moment later, another knock followed by Robin’s entry. She looks like she’s going to cry when she looks at (Y/N)’s, practically lifeless, body laying on the medical bed.

“Hi…” She whispers, looking at her son with uncertainty.

Sebastian stands up and hugs his mother in that moment.

“Oh, Sebby…”

A sob escapes the boy’s lips.

“She didn’t deserve any of this, mom.”

Robin remains silent for a moment, glancing over at the blond across the room who’s staring at the floor, crying once again.

“What’s gone on, Sebastian?” She whispers, hands stroking the back of her heartbroken son.

The pair pull back and sit down, Sebastian’s eyes returning to the unconscious woman.

“(Y/N) and I have had a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement for a little while now - discussed dating and stuff but decided we’re not quite ready for it,” The boy begins, Robin holding his hand and stroking it. “I know full well I’ll never love another woman the same way I love her.”

He pauses, trying to find a starting point.

“When you and Demetrius were away on your anniversary trip, I had Abigail, (Y/N) and Sam over to play some video games and shit. Everyone left except (Y/N), but she was packing her stuff as if ready to leave; she normally stays the night. I wrapped my arms around her and asked if she was leaving already but she froze.” He pauses, remembering the exact moment he held the woman he loves in his arms and she froze up like he just made the worst mistake of his life. “Like, really froze. It scared me. I let go. She said she had some farm stuff to take care of and started heading toward the door but I grabbed her wrist - not hard! But she fucking screamed. Stumbled into the wall and stared at me like I just burnt her.”

Robin doesn’t tell the boy off for swearing on this occasion.

“She ran out after that. I was scared shitless. I saw it in her eyes that she was fucking traumatised. She’s never been like that - certainly not with me. She loves physical affection and shit, she would never react like that. Anyway, I sat and thought it over for a while, worried about what the fuck I’d done to make her so fucking scared of me, and realised I hadn’t done anything, and even if I had, she would’ve told me. We’re best friends, she tells me everything…”

Robin is tearing up as she listens to what her son has been through whilst she’s been completely oblivious.

“I decided to deal with it later cause it was late. Next morning I call by Pierre’s to ask Abby for her help, grabbed Sam too, and told them what had happened. Sam immediately suggested that someone’s hurt her, agreeing that it’s not like her to turn down physical affection, especially screaming from a touch. We went to her place - she was still in the same clothes she fell asleep in which worried me too. We asked her if someone had hurt her and she lost it. She broke down in tears as we asked her more and more questions trying to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck had happened.”

Sebastian pauses as he sniffles and wipes the tears from his face.

“She told us she was raped; admitted it was Kent. Said she didn’t wanna tell us because he’s Sam’s dad. She didn’t want Sam to lose the father he’s been waiting years for.”

Robin’s eyes turn to the blond across the room, seeing his eyes clenched shut, fists tight, tears falling.

“Sam didn’t believe her first - I don’t blame him, but I knew (Y/N) would never lie to us, especially about something like this. Sam stormed out and gave Kent a hefty punch or two, I followed - scared Sam might take it too far.”

He fucking deserved it. Those are Sam’s unvoiced thoughts.

“He fucking deserved it though.” Sebastian voices his thoughts anyway. “I went in and Kent was mouthing off some shit about how she was asking for it and shit-talking her, so I lost my fucking cool and gave the guy a good hit.” “Or ten.” Sam quietly remarks, a very brief smirk on his lips. “The asshole deserved it. Anyway, I was stopped because (Y/N) and Abby turned up and I didn’t want her to see that. She passed out after Kent spat out some more utter bullshit. I carried her up to ours since you guys were away - figured she could do with somewhere away from her own house and that fucker’s.”

Robin is crying but lets her son finish.

“I just let her rest for a few days. She didn’t say or do much, we just watched some TV, I read to her, made her food, bla bla, then one day she asked if she could speak to Maru as she realised she could have damage, infections, possible pregnancy, which I hadn’t even fucking thought about.” “You can’t beat yourself up over this, Seb.” Sam manages, sparing a glance at the dark-haired boy.

Sebastian gulps but continues.

“I asked if she was sure and she said yes, so we spoke to Maru who got us in with Harvey that very evening. Found out she was pregnant. We slept on it since she was unsure what she wanted to do. Sam came over the next day to see how (Y/N) was doing - and because Jodi and Kent kicked him out, Jodi losing her shit and saying I was gaslighting them both or some dumb fucking shit,” He takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “We eventually agreed to move to the farm, all three of us, and she decided she was going to keep the baby - wanted to try and get something good out of this whole shit show.” “So when did Kent actually…” Robin trails off, not wanting to break her son even more. “End of Spring - like, a fucking week after he came back to Pelican Town.” Her son confirms. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ve heard the drama of what happened in the saloon. (Y/N) decided she missed going out. We were all very aware of Jodi spreading utter bullshit in order to protect to darling husband and whatever, so we’d all been on the down-low for a while. We decided to go to the saloon, Sam and I very ready to protect her from any bullshit thrown her way, but Elliott grabbed our attention as we came in and said she’d been missed. Later in the night, she was chatting to everyone, Elliott raised a toast to congratulate her on her pregnancy, it was really nice to see her smiling again.” “She was glowing.” Sam whispers, Sebastian managing a momentary smile. “Yeah. Anyway, Jodi turns up at like eleven PM, starts shit-talking (Y/N), me, Sam… You probably would’ve smacked her.”

Robin attempts a small chuckle.

“(Y/N) says she’s just gonna leave and doesn’t want to cause any drama, but Jodi obviously wasn’t aware she was pregnant and lost her shit, shoving her back into the bar. She fell down, smacked her body on the stools and her head on the floor. Sam and I were too far away to fucking stop it. Shane stepped in though, pinned the bitch up against the wall and threatened her. (Y/N) was bleeding… a lot. Shane helped Sam and I get her here, but she, uh, the baby didn’t make it.”

Silence.

“And now we’re here.” “What time even is it?” Sam manages. “Just after one PM.” Robin confirms.

The boy nods.

“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about all this. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this has been on you. Both of you.”

Sebastian attempts an appreciative smile but it barely lasts a second.

“Come here, Samson.” Robin adds, standing up and opening her arms for the boy. “Robin, thank you, but-” “Come here.” She doesn’t take no for an answer, simply smiling and accepting the embrace. “You’re always welcome into my home.”

He squeezes a little tighter.

“Thank you.” “You and Sebastian have always been like brothers anyway.”

He pulls back and smiles

“He drives me crazy like a brother.”

She manages a chuckle.

“He drives me crazy like a son.” “I’m right here.” It’s a sarcastic remark from the dark-haired boy. “Has she woken up yet?” The carpenter asks, taking a seat back beside her son. “Yeah, but she realised her bump was gone and lost her mind; Harvey had to inject her with some anaesthetic or something to knock her back out.” “Oh, bless her.”

Some time passes and Robin says she’ll head off, not wanting to intrude when the woman wakes up once more. What she doesn’t tell either of the men is that she’s going to add some renovations to the woman’s farm, free of charge, to help accommodate all three of them, and a baby in future if she wishes to try again.

Sam stands up and walks over to sit beside his best friend, taking his hand.

“I’m sorry, Seb.” “Do you think she’ll be okay?” Sebastian whispers, not taking his eyes off of the girl.

The blond pauses, contemplating his answer.

“We’ll make sure she is.”

Another forty-five minutes pass before the woman begins to stir, Sebastian immediately noticing the way her eyelids twitch. He presses the emergency button to contact Harvey straight away, praying that they can keep her calm enough to stay awake this time round.

The running footsteps resound in the small medical room the three of them are occupying, Harvey unlocking the door with worried eyes.

“She’s twitching a little - stirring - I think she’s gonna wake up; I figured I’d get you here first.” Sebastian briefs, the doctor nodding and checking over her machines and stats once again.

The woman groans, feeling exhausted, which is bizarre given that she’s waking up. Her body feels like it’s got the weight of Lewis’ truck resting on it.

What the hell?

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

Is that… Harvey’s voice?

“If you can hear me, love, can you try and give me a sign? Wiggle your fingers or toes?”

Why the hell wouldn’t she be able to hear him? He sounds like he’s right beside her.

Nonetheless, she complies and attempts to move her digits.

“Perfect. Okay, (Y/N), I’m going to tell you a few things but I need you to remain calm, okay? Despite everything I’m reminding you of, you’re one-hundred percent safe right here right now.”

She’s clearly in the hospital.

Another mining accident? She usually can hear Marlon nagging in her ear by now though about how reckless she is.

“You’re in the hospital due to getting hurt when in the saloon. You were pushed and fell to the floor. Do you remember?”

Who in the hell of Stardew Valley would push her?

“(Y/N)...”

Sebastian?

“Can you hear me, doll?”

Attempted finger movements.

She also tries to turn her head toward her best friend’s voice but her eyes aren’t assisting just yet.

“Hey, pretty girl,” She fails to see the soft smile on Sebastian’s face, perfectly paired up with the tears staining his cheeks. “You remember Sam’s family?”

Vincent?

Jodi?

Oh, fuck-

Jodi.

Kent.

Another gasp and she feels multiple hands on her body as if pinning her down.

“Breathe, doll, it’s okay.” “(Y/N), remember that you’re safe.” Harvey inputs. “Don’t panic, you’re okay, I promise.”

The pet name ‘baby’ is on the tip of Sebastian’s tongue, but there’s a time and a place for that…

“Just focus on staying calm, doll, or else we can’t help you.”

She was pregnant.

The saloon.

Elliott.

Jodi was pissed.

Jodi didn’t know she was pregnant - how!?

She was pushed.

The blood.

Bleeding.

Her baby…

“Try and stay calm, (Y/N).” Harvey’s voice interrupts her thoughts once more; it’s then that she realises how obnoxiously loud the beeping of her heart monitor is as it gets faster.

With struggling efforts, the woman manages to move one of her hands across her body to her flat stomach.

She lost the baby.

There’s no way she had the baby - she had two months left.

Is that possible?

Perhaps this was the way it was meant to be.

With strain, she manages to open her eyes, the blinding hospital lights barely hurting in comparison to the loss of her baby.

“Welcome back, (Y/N).” The doctor greets, but she hasn’t even looked at any of the men in the room yet. “Just to make you aware, I’m in the room along with Sebastian and Sam.”

Sam…

“Hey, (Y/N).” The blond comments.

She doesn’t respond.

Eventually, she manages to turn her head and acknowledge the doctor beside her. He offers a reassuring smile and waits patiently for her to feel comfortable.

She then rolls her head around and sees the two boys standing side by side, both crying and looking like they haven’t slept in days. Or showered. Or eaten.

With slow, mechanical movements, the farmer reaches up and slowly slides down the oxygen mask covering her mouth. She licks her lips and moistens her mouth, feeling just how dry her throat is.

“You two look like shit.”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat, mixed with a sob or two. Sebastian simply smiles and shakes his head.

“Missed you too, gorgeous.” The latter mutters. “You’re not lookin’ too hot yourself, farmer.” Sam adds, jokingly.

She attempts a smile before turning to look back at Harvey.

“How long have I been out?” “Eighteen hours-ish.” The doctor confirms. “You woke up about ten hours ago but weren’t doing so good.”

She nods.

“I lost the baby?”

The anguish on Harvey’s face is enough to know.

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I tried everything I could.”

She simply smiles and nods before turning to look at the two boys on the other side of her.

“Are you mad?”

The men's faces contort into confusion and shock.

“Mad? Why on Earth would we be mad? Of course we’re not mad, doll, we’re just glad you’re okay.” Sebastian assures the woman, resting a hand on her matted hair. “(Y/N), I’m just glad you’re alive and breathing.” Sam adds.

Harvey answers every question the woman has, brings her some food and drink, and leaves the trio to chat amongst themselves.

“I love you both very much.” “We love you very much, pretty girl.” Sebastian smiles. “My mom came by earlier, by the way - I told her everything.”

(Y/N) nods.

“Does she hate me?” “Of course she doesn’t hate you, (Y/N).”

Silence.

“I want to go home.” “We can go home whenever Harvey says so.” “Will you both stay with me?” “(Y/N),” “Doll,”

Sam and Sebastian begin at the same time, (Y/N) giggling at their synchronisation.

“I think I can speak for Sebastian as well as myself when I say we don’t plan on leaving your side for the rest of our lives.”

It was at that moment that (Y/N) looked at Sam in the same light she looks at Sebastian in.

Love.

Adoration.

Romantic?

But three’s a crowd.

Right?

Sebastian sees the conflict in the woman’s eyes and it makes him grin.

“We’ll figure it out, pretty girl.” The emo boy comments, flashing a wink as she realises he can read her like a picture book. “I love you both.” “We love you too, farmer.”

[scribbleshrimp]

Man I got to know how the story ends, it’s so personal to me I was in love with a guy who not only reminds me of Neil personality wise but even appearance wise. Do you have anything more written for it? All your platforms seem to be defunct and it makes me really sad

The original ending of the story is that they all died tragically young in painful ways because at at point in my life I could have never imagined a happy ending for me or the characters.

But now I have a pretty different ending which I consider 'canon'.

Mallory stops the morgue business and get's into art restoration instead, better use of her skills. Her insides are held together by resin and silicone and a bunch of other funky things that make her smell like oil paint but they are happy, even has a few friends (in person!!! wow!!!) , and reconnected with her father. Also Mallory no longer goes by Mallory! Cut out the 'Mal' part and just goes by Lorey now. Still has extreme CPTSD and is very awkward around people but...she is doing better. Lorey has been experimenting with weird hair styles lately, but always seems to come back to green after awhile. She has also been getting into mushroom foraging, 90% sure she ate a deadly lookalike at some point but she was....fine? Fun implications on what that means for her future. Either way she loves restoring art, and making art herself. She speaks to the paintings, and only misses talking to dead people a littleeee bit.

Efron took all his control issues and projected it onto having an absurd amount of pets. He can micro-manage a dozen terrariums as much as he likes and really enjoys the fact they are dependent on him. He also grew his hair out and ditched the pearls and sweater, any reminders of his mother is something he learned not to cling on to. Also got someee professional help for his identity issues? He realized that he is not in fact the next coming of christ, nor is he a gross reflection of his mother. Still has a massive eating disorder but all the animals are well fed to an absurd degree (lots of fresh/raw food which costs a lot but it's fine because Efron has a decent job now.) Efron is overall doing okay. Will probably never date anyone ever again, or even have close platonic bonds. Which is a bit sad but he is fine with it, he does not trust himself not to be manipulative for their own good. Maybe some more therapy would help him but he is the type to look down on most of the advice he is given, and he is content with his current lifestyle. Who says that he has to be normative to be fufilled?

Neil is... well he is dead. In the original escam at least he is. But now when I imagine him he is very very alive. Ironically he is a fucking school counselor now. He helps kids with planning their futures or hears out their petty drama and attempts to help sort it out. He also sometimes talks to kids who self harm, or are clearly seeking attention from.... less than ideal spaces. Sometimes it's like talking to a mirror of his younger self and that really freaks him out. He wishes he could shake these kids around and tell them that they should not be wasting their youth enabling predators or bonding with kids as equally messed up as they are over who can hurt themselves more. He is afraid he is not doing nearly enough to help them. But overall he is thriving in life. He has a boyfriend who treats him well, and that's pretty cool. He also has a full beard which is no longer patchy, and that's even cooler. He still feels depressed most days and is prone to mood swings but he is way more stable than he ever was in escam. The only part of himself he ever kills is the part that made him feel worthless.

[lassieposting]

Y'all ever think about how Young!Vesemir would still have to take contracts to provide for the Kaer Morons

Give me little Witchers who are left alone in a cramped room above a tavern for days at a time, told to sit tight and keep quiet and not draw attention because they're surrounded by humans and he won't be there to protect them

Little Witchers teaming up to look after Vesemir when he comes back from a hunt injured and exhausted. Double-mutated Geralt gets Stitching Duty, because he's got the steadiest hands. Eskel sits by Vesemir's head and distracts him during the unpleasant bits. Lambert gets sent out to make sure Vesemir's horse is stabled/untacked/fed/watered/groomed, and Remus goes running down to the innkeep to make sure Vesemir is fed and watered too.

Little Witchers who realise, as children inevitably will, that their parental figure is struggling, and try to ease the load. Geralt will venture out to forage for potion supplies while Ves is away. Eskel learns to charm free meals out of motherly innkeepers with compliments or the offer of helping out with chores. Lambert is a shameless little thief, but sometimes he'll filch something Ves can sell when their coin is low.

Vesemir who freezes in place the first time he comes back to a tavern, bloody and covered in mud, and is greeted by a gaggle of little Witchers running to hug his legs, because? He's their only stability. He's their protector, their provider, the only source of positive attention they really have. He's often sarcastic and short-tempered and sharp-tongued, but they miss him when he's gone, and they feel safer when he's back.

Vesemir who goes from oh no, absolutely not, every single one of you sleeps on his own bedroll to ugh fine whatever but the first one of you little bastards to kick me is getting yeeted when the pups all dogpile onto his bed after he's been away a while or someone has a night terror or he's hurt and they're worried about him.

Vesemir who shrugs off hateful comments aimed at him with a snarky comeback, but will absolutely throw the fuck down with anyone who starts in on his boys.

Little Eskel and Geralt - the oldest, the first to notice that Ves will go hungry so they can eat when funds are low or opt to replace Lambert's boots over replenishing his potion ingredients - who always ask to tag along on hunts. They can help! They'll be useful! They won't get in the way! They want to pull their weight!

Vesemir who actually realises that his own relationship with his father figure was more distant than he would've liked, as a boy. He idolised Deglan, wanted his approval. Deglan took a special interest in his training, served as his mentor for his first year on the Path, called him an affectionate nickname. But never hugged him. Never said he was proud of him. Always taught him that Real Men Need No One, young feller, now let's have none of that pansy nonsense.

Vesemir who sees the pups go from fearing him to missing him and trying to look out for him and seeking affection from him when they're scared or sad or pleased to see him, and makes a conscious decision that actually, Deglan, you were wrong. Yes, being cruel to be kind is often essential to Witcher training: it's a tough, dangerous, survival-of-the-fittest lifestyle. But real men hug their fucking kids

Just. Jesus I am like two years late to this party and absolutely consumed by single dad Ves feelings send help

[thecedarsights]

May I humbly request some NY hc’s?

**it’s fine if not dw**

idk if they'll be terribly interesting? but i'll try lol!

He has an affinity for all of the animals, plants, just nature related state symbols (e.g. beavers, eastern bluebird, nine-spotted ladybugs, sugar maples, etc. etc.), and probably loves learning about all of them.

He loves horses, and while he likes watching horse racing occasionally, he doesn't find the sport too terribly interesting. He probably talks about horse racing with someone like Kentucky though sometimes. He gets his mild interest in it from the horse racing in his own state (such as in places like the Saratoga Race Course as an example).

Is relatively decent at keeping plants alive, all things considered. The only person he really trusts to take care of them if he's not there is New Jersey. No one else gets to go near his plants. He likes to name them, too, sometimes.

Despite how much he makes fun of New Jersey's state nickname, he still trusts him the most when it comes to plants and gardening.

Not very original, but he has some pet pigeons.

He used to have a black cat named Void that would perch on his shoulder all the time.

Has snapped at multiple others to remind them New York state is not just the city. Sometimes though, he seems to forget this himself, much to his own dismay.

His answer on when 'upstate' starts seems to change semi-frequently, if someone asks for his personal opinions about it.

He gives Vermont Stewart's cards (gift cards you can only use in the store and those 'one free ____' ones) sometimes.

Adding on to that, he also sometimes will have a milkshake from them with him when he goes to the table. It got snatched once by Florida who then drank it and he still holds a grudge about it.

Occasionally swaps books with Washington, but will anxiously wait the entire time it is not in his possession.

There are times where he finds California extremely pathetic (can have different meanings, though. There are times where it's the 'soggy, sad kicked looking puppy' kind of pathetic or the 'you literally fucking suck, wtaf is wrong with you' kind of pathetic, among others).

Sometimes he'll make very spicy food and before he goes to eat it, walk up to others that don't like and/or can't tolerate spice and ask them to smell it, just to laugh at their reactions.

He likes playing sports. Ones he like are tennis, air hockey and volleyball, among (some very obvious) others.

He gets self conscious sometimes playing more active sports, or doing active things like running if he knows people are watching him.

He doesn't like swimming, be he does know how to.

He likes to go out into less populated parts of his state just so he can sit down and listen to nature.

He'll try to 'forage' in forests upstate sometimes, just so he find plants to take pictures and video of so he can show them to New Jersey to see if he likes them and ask what they are.

He used to skateboard because he knew it pissed other personifications off. He doesn't as much anymore, but he still has a decked out looking skateboard (it's black with things all over it. He decorated it himself and is very proud of it).

He knows multiple languages.

He finds the fact that it only snows for about a day or two in November and December in certain parts of his state now very depressing. He hates the fact sometimes it doesn't even snow until January. He doesn't like snow much, but he misses it when he doesn't see it as much as he used to.

His favorite drink is water. Cold, preferably.

He likes old/vintage stuff. He doesn't like calling them that though, because "It felt like this was the newest shit just last [speaks New York] week!".

[evenaturtleduck]

1, 2, 3, 4, and 13 for the book asks!

1) How many books? According to Storygraph it's 211! How???? Tbf this does include a lot of graphic novels–I figured out that I could satisfy my need to go foraging in the library for weird new books without committing to a thousand pages of text if I went to the graphic novel section. And I really love books with pictures ❤️

2) Rereads: Boyfriend Material, Husband Material, some KJ Charles, The House in the Cerulean Sea, A Strange and Stubborn Endurance (reread it twice this year because I love them), the Greta Helsing books, several of the big bad wolf books by Charlie Adhara, the Witness for the Dead, and I recently checked out Winter’s Orbit for a reread, too :) Basically if it's the kind of book that lets me have a good cry about a lonely guy getting the love and care he deserves but hasn't gotten until now, I probably want to reread it at some point.

3) Top 5 books: oh dang. This one is hard. Um. Let's say Solomon's Crown, The Spear Cuts Through Water, Going Postal, The Goblin Emperor, and The Archive Undying.

And then some runner ups, because I can: the Raven Tower, We Could Be So Good, and The Charioteer.

4) Any new authors? This one is wild because I look back over this list and realize that there are a bunch of authors I am now obsessed with who I only read for the first time less than a year ago! (Did I really just read Captive Prince in April?!?!) Anyway, new-to-me authors this year (there were a LOT so I'm only listing people who I read more than one of their books this year because I did the thing where I found someone I liked and then read everything by them that I could get my paws on) include Ann Leckie, Charlie Adhara, Katherine Addison/Sarah Monette, Victoria Goddard, C.S. Pacat, C.J. Sansom, N.R. Walker, R. Cooper, Ben Aaronovitch, Catherine Valente, and probably others that I'm missing 😭

13) Least favorite books? eeeeeh ok. So there were a bunch that I DNFed because they just weren't the right book for me, but the one I was most disappointed to not like was Midnight at the Blackbird Cafe. I just couldn't get into it–I like my magical realism weird and my quirky impoverished southern small towns Gothic (if there isn't a fucked up house literally-or-metaphorically eating people what’s the point?). Another one I was sad not to like was The First Bright Thing, for a similar reason–it tried so hard to convince me I loved the characters and was emotionally invested in them when I'd only barely met them, and I just didn't feel it.

There were others that I liked less, but those are the ones I remember because I'd really wanted to like them, and they probably were good books, just not books I wanted to read.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

"I love public art! Don't mind us, keep doing what you're doing."

CINDY THE SKULL - "Thanks. I'm sure the inspiration will come to me now that I have an official RCM stamp of approval."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - You've *lessened* her desire to deface the building.

3. "Do you know anything about the recent murder?"

CINDY THE SKULL - "I ain't no snitch, pigstein." She wrinkles her nose. "Go forth and forage in someone else's shit. No shortage of squealers in these parts."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Actually -- there is a shortage of people who talk to us in a normal, calm, informative manner."

CINDY THE SKULL - "We weren't put on this earth to make your life pleasant, fuck-o."

4. "So you won't talk about the murder -- but maybe you can tell me something about the murder victim's missing armour?"

CINDY THE SKULL - "What do I care about some fucking tin egg shells?"

"Isn't armour... art? Art for the, uhm, body?"

"C'mon, Cindy, just help me out here."

CINDY THE SKULL - "Ugh, alright, sad piggy. I'll give you this one -- I saw a little girl in the fishing village running around with military-grade hand-wear. Looked cute as hell."

"If you haven't been there, the village is a shithole down the coast from the main plaza." She waves her hand in a general westward direction. "Have a good time."

New task: Find the armoured gloves

"And there's a little girl wearing the gloves there?"

"Got it."

CINDY THE SKULL - "No-no. That's all the snitching Cindy the SKULL does for today. Actually, I don't even know why I told you what I just told you..."

"I have a weakness for animals. It's the animal-thing again. Damn it." She looks at you, a little sad suddenly.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Or a weakness for police officers, miss." He makes a note in his notebook. "Thank you either way."

4. "Catch you later, Cindy." [Leave.]

CINDY THE SKULL - "Watch your back, ungulate. You've got eyes on you."

By equipping the prybar, we can open this bin.

There's a coat inside.

SIGNAL-BLUE NAVAL COAT

+1 Suggestion: Aye, Captain! -1 Half-Light: Officerial poise

This classic double-breasted coat suits everyone - including you. And if you ever find yourself battling winds at the helmof a ship then the coat's heavy fabric has got your back... even if moths have left a few holes in it.

I decide not to equip it right now.

Inside, the frame of a motorcycle-in-repair and the tools used to disassemble it.

We walk past the entrance to the apartment building...

Looks like there was more construction here -- once, decades ago.

The belly of this boat shines like it was recently painted.

Docking reserved for residents of: Rue de Saint-Ghislaine 33A.

Your room in the Whirling isn't much bigger than this sloop.

This is worth more than you'll ever earn in all your life.

Shadows on the water... green plants under the calm surface.

JOYCE MESSIER - A striking woman leans against the cabin top of her sailing boat, smiling as you approach. Her green raincoat glistens with droplets, a silk scarf is tied around her throat.

"Good evening, officers, I'm Joyce." She extends her hand in greeting.

"Joyce L. Messier. I represent the board of Wild Pines -- the owners of the harbour. You gentlemen must be from the RCM..." She steps closer and holds out her hand over the railing.

"Joyce L? What does the 'L' stand for?"

"What exactly is the RCM? I remember hearing it from somewhere."

"What gave us away?"

Shake her hand.

Don't shake her hand.

JOYCE MESSIER - "Leyton, my maiden name." Her bony hand dangles from the sleeve of her oversized raincoat.

2. "What exactly is the RCM? I remember hearing it from somewhere."

JOYCE MESSIER - "Uhm..." She seems confused. "I meant *you* -- the Revachol Citizens Militia. The police."

3. "What gave us away?"

JOYCE MESSIER - "Nothing, honestly. I've said it to every drunk in town and you're the first one who's responded."

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - What is implied here?! That you're a *drunk*?!

4. "I'm not a drunk. I'm a police officer."

JOYCE MESSIER - "Of course you're not. It was only a joke."

[garbagefarm]

Garbage Farm #52

2024-05-03, session #52 of Garbage Farm! Spanning Spring 4 through Spring 10 of Year 5!

cast:

me ( @mothmute )

E.B. ( @blueherin )

Kimi ( @2kimi2furious )

Highlights include, but are not limited to the following:

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES (every time!)

Pizza may secretly be demon spawn.

Right to jail!

Spring 4:

Rainy day!!

I remembered that EB's also got a cellar full of aged wine, and cycle that

(EB has to remap her controls)

Pam wants potato booze (again); we'll support her alcoholism if it gets us paid.

Smallmouth bass frenzy in cindersap forest?? (I miss it entirely)

Kimi vandalizes EB's sign

Spring 5:

Baby dino is born!! I named it "...lizard?..."

Kimi buys the Junimo catelog

Kimi can have a little deforestation, as a treat

DISCONNECTION

Spring 5 (take two):

Baby dino is born! It's named Lizardo, in this timeline it's italian

oooh, heart event with Vincent and Jas! "spwing onions" are full of bugs, and Jas is appalled at Vincent's violence.

Kimi gets to level 10 foraging (and later picks Tracking), getting her one step closer to Mastery!

I pick up some Tom Kha soup for Elliott from the Cool Pig

Kimi can't access anything 'cause EB is ~crafting~

(taters, precious......)

Sebastian catches Kimi digging through the trash. I'm just glad somebody's remembering to do it!

Elliott talks about how he was never able to successfully "grow plant" at his seaside cottage. Not "plants", "plant". Elliott... is there something you aren't telling me? (it's weed)

EB is #blessed by Wild Possum, Grandpa Jr. and Kimi!

Spring 6:

With foraging complete, Kimi is off to fight some dudes.

I hate to give Pierre money, but we need grass starter. At least Abigail and "carloine" will benefit from it.

(hell with this prismatic grange, I'm gonna buy stuff)

Abigail catches Kimi digging in the trash, and nobody cares!

EB finishes foraging! Mastery getting closer every day!

Spring 7:

duck violence

You can edit Pam's sign??

Prismatic grange complete!

Ancient farming secrets line 37: "there's no better helper than a raisin-fed Junimo"

(Gettin' cheese and jelly bucks tonight!)

Why is there a sign in Kimi's bedroom?

Spring 8:

"grandma is watching........."

Meanwhile, Kent sends me another bomb in the mail.

Kimi kept the valley safe by defeating a Fly. Thank you for your service, braver than any US marine

(Heart event with the sad island boy...)

ugh, more prismatic bullshit, or Qi's Crop? Fuck it, we bean! And I find the first one right away!

Potato juice is ready!

EB fuckin' dies, her husband bills her 1000g and makes her walk home by herself at 1:30AM

Spring 9:

Pizza and Violet are lying in bed on a tuesday, trying to get out of Garbage School

Possum gave EB a chub! "that's what she said"

PRISON BREAK, duck on the loose!

aw hell I was supposed to potato pam, gotta juice the old lady, pamtato.

ffff I gifted it to her, I was supposed to put it in her kitchen (situations like this are what fairy dust is for)

Pam event, praying to Yoba with a Sign of the Vessel she bought from Joja dot com.

Gifted Penny some cookies I found in the trash. "better than her cooking" heyoooo

Lewis showed me his gacha machine, gotta get tickets to win cash prizes!

(haunted by shorts)

EB stays out too late and gets murdered by the Qi Beans

Spring 10?:

GARBAGE CRIBS

Kimi shows off her kitchen skeleton

EB admires Kimi's fish tank

Kimi says that my skeleton pineapple room "slaps"

"what's behind the bed" "nothing don't worry about it :)" (just my attic of amontillado)

-

TO-DO:

I still need gold and iridium to finish out my Crystalarium shed

(speaking of which, I still need more preserves jars for my jam shed, and more kegs for the keg tunnel)

I meant to spend some time reorganizing the storage shed, but didn't get around to it this time

still need to find cave jelly, so we can smoke a fish, so we can befriend the raccoon!

gotta re-do all the tapped trees, but ugh I don't wanna

I HAVEN'T DONE ANY SKULLS IN SO LONG

gotta keep making friends! current target: small island child

my grocery list is so big! still, I did make some good progress on it, I need to check and set up some new priority targets

oh right! RAINY DAY: FIGHT FISH

Good garbage, everybody!!

[tomatoluvr69]

top 5 wild edible ingredients you’ve come across?

Ohhh I love this question…sorry for the 24 hour delay lol.

5. White pine. One of my all time favorite tisanes, and makes a fine syrup as well for vitamin c access in winter. You literally don’t need Emergen-C if you’re my friend lol

4. Sumac!! One must exercise caution however, sometimes the beautiful red cone of citrus flavor is also a haven for bugs. Doesn’t bother me personally, but some “people” get “annoyed and disgusted” when “insects make a home in their food” or so I’ve heard.

3. Garlic mustard. Love this plant and it is highly invasive so it’s quite ethical to rip out huge swaths of it & make pesto, herb crusts for roasts, soup, etc. i also have dried & minced it in the past, for a dried herb to put in food like oregano or basil or something. It’s a pretty unique flavor but personally I love it.

2. RAMPS!!! I’ll never divulge my secrets…but some ramp butter on freshly baked bread??? Unreal.

1. Chicken of the woods— AMAZING mushroom, unbelievable meat substitute, incredible source of vitamins, calories, and protein.

Honorable mention goes to squirrels. I have not eaten squirrel but it is on the bucket list. I came as close as butchering one with friends (the animal’s death was a necessary one of mercy) but we burst some organs unfortunately that rendered it inedible. Squirrels and other abundant semiurban game like geese and deer are going to be very important foods in the coming apocalypse; it’s hard to be a vegan and get enough calories without an established soy and legume industrial system. Get a compound bow and some arrows & print out butchering diagrams & preservation guides. End times are coming!!

Other honorable mentions— white morels, woodear mushrooms, hen of the woods, wild alliums, broadleaf plantain, dandelion, GINKGO!!! raspberry leaf, JAPANESE KNOTWEED!! Violets!!! And day lilies!!! Those are invasive too and super yummy in salads

[jaskierswolf]

A birthday gift for the ever lovely @the-blondey! 🥳

Geraskier featuring courting gifts and a side helping of friends to lovers! (1.8k)

_____

Geralt hated shopping. He usually only bothered for ingredients that he hadn’t been able to find in between towns, or to drop into the blacksmith. He picked up supplies at the inns he stayed in, or ate what he could hunt or forage in the woods. He certainly never browsed the market like this, not without Jaskier at least.

But Jaskier wasn’t there.

Jaskier was still teaching a lecture at the university, and he probably had no idea that Geralt was even in town. This whole shopping business would be a lot better if he could ask Jaskier for help, but Jaskier was the one person that he couldn’t ask for help. He sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. He couldn’t even talk to Roach. She was safely stabled back at the inn.

“This shouldn’t be so hard,” he grumbled to himself. “It’s Jaskier. He likes pretty things and expensive trinkets.”

The only problem was there were a lot of pretty things and expensive trinkets on the tables, and the merchants were all claiming their goods were the best. There was so much noise, so many people. He growled under his breath and clenched his fists. It was too much. It needed to be perfect. Jaskier was too important for anything less than perfect.

He closed his eyes. Jaskier. His eyes, his scent, the wind blowing through his hair, the soft warmth of his smile. He took a deep breath. His head was still spinning but it was manageable. He glanced back at the table in front of him and then up at the merchant. The poor man was white as a sheet and he reeked of fear. Geralt hummed and then pushed through the crowd to the next stall.

Daggers.

“Hmm,” Geralt scrutinised the wares. They wouldn’t be up to the standards of witchers but they looked sturdy enough to kill a bandit or two. Most importantly, they were ornate, beautiful and glittering in the light of the sun.  The blades themselves were a variety of shapes and sizes, but Geralt’s eyes were drawn to a waved silver blade with Elder engraved along the length. His Elder speech wasn’t perfect, and he struggled to read the elven language but he understood enough to know the dagger was intended as a betrothal gift.

His fingers hovered over the hilt, eyes glancing up to meet the merchant’s gaze. Unless the previous merchant, they had a gentle smile on their face. Their posture was relaxed and their scent wasn’t soured with fear. He already liked them more than the first merchant.

“May I?”

They nodded. “Of course, but I’ll warn you witcher, it’s not cheap and hardly suited for your trade.”

“It’s not for me,” he grunted.

Light dawned in their eyes and their smile widened. “Oh well, in that case you ought to know the implications—”

“I know.”

He picked up the dagger and weighed it in his hands. The balance of the blade was good. He ran a finger along the edge, hissing as it cut into his skin. Blood seeped from the small wound before it healed without a trace.

The merchant’s slight hitch in breath gave away their astonishment. “Impressive.”

“A necessity in my line of work. How much?” he asked, praying to all the gods that he didn’t believe in that he could afford it. The dagger was perfect. Anything else he found now would be a disappointment.

“More than you can afford, witcher,” they admitted with a sad smile “but I might be able to strike a deal. I have work for you, if you’re willing.”

Geralt glanced down at the blade in his hands and then back at them. “I’m in.”

____________

Jaskier was scribbling away at his desk when the doors flew open. Larissa, was standing in the doorway, out of breath and red in the face. Their hair falling from the bun at the back of their head. Jaskier looked up from his notebook, tongue still stuck between his teeth. He scratched his cheek with his quill and smiled brightly at them.

“Larissa!” he greeted warmly and placed his quill on the desk, leaving the notebook open so the ink could dry. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“You have a visitor, professor,” they gasped, wrapping their arms around their stomach as they tried to catch their breath.

Jaskier frowned. He hadn’t been expecting anyone and his open office hours weren’t until that afternoon. His students were normally better at giving him fair warning should they require him. He pulled on his doublet buttoning it up to his chin, just in case. He had been told off by the dean on more than one occasion and he was currently on thin ice. It didn’t matter how well his lectures did, one had to wear appropriate clothing. It was all incredibly dull. It made him yearn for the road, for Geralt.

He waved at Larissa, a flamboyant flick of his wrist. “Yes yes, please, show them in.”

Larissa nodded and left the room, leaving Jaskier to ponder who his guest could be. He tried not to hope, but his love was a burning fire that couldn’t be controlled and even the smallest chance that Geralt was here set his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Oh stop it, Jask,” he muttered to himself. “He’s not here.”

“Who’s not here?” came the gruff reply.

Jaskier felt his face light up and he bounded across the room just as the witcher appeared in the doorway. “Geralt!”

“Jaskier,” Geralt greeted him, a fond smile on his lips, his eyes softer than the velvet pillows that adorned Jaskier’s bed.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon, witcher,” Jaskier laughed, putting one hand on his hip and cocking his head. “Did you miss me, darling?”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pulled Geralt into a hug. “Well, I missed you and your grunting.”  He pulled away all too soon and licked his lips, trying to still his beating heart. It was racing far too fast and he knew that Geralt could hear it. It was a miracle that Geralt hadn’t realised why already. “What brings you to Oxenfurt, Geralt?”

“I have something for you,” Geralt grumbled, not meeting Jaskier’s gaze. He pulled on the straps that held his sword on his back, and Jaskier would almost say that the witcher looked… nervous?

That couldn’t be right?

He’d seen Geralt take down all manner of monsters and men… why would he be nervous of him?

“Riiight, well… here I am, at your disposal!” Jaskier gestured widely and gave a little bow, winking at his witcher, trying to make light of the situation before his own nerves could get the best of him.

“It’s umm… well… fuck,” Geralt growled and pinched the bridge of his nose, then he pulled a bundle of cloth from his pocket and handed it to Jaskier.

Jaskier tentatively took the packet. It was heavier than he expected, solid under his fingers. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at Geralt. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

Jaskier nodded. That would make sense. It was a gift after all, but why would Geralt be giving him a present? It wasn’t even his birthday. He wasn’t sure that Geralt even knew when that was. “It’s not going to kill me is it?” he teased gently.

Geralt rolled his eyes and scoffed. “It might if you don’t hurry up and open it.”

Jaskier gaped. “Well now! That’s just rude! Impatient brute.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt warned with a low snarl.

“Ok ok!”  he snapped, his hands shaking as he pulled back the cloth. His heart would stop pounding and his legs felt weak. He gasped quietly as he saw the bejewelled dagger resting in the fabric. “Geralt?”

“Look closer,” Geralt muttered, his golden eyes were watching Jaskier with such intensity that he wanted to melt into the floor. It was almost too much. Whatever was sparking between them was about to change Jaskier’s life, he was sure of it. It felt too momental to be simply a gift.

He passed the cloth bundle back to Geralt and slowly unsheathed the dagger. The silvery blade glittered in the candlelight. Jaskier stopped breathing as he traced the inscription with his fingers. It was written in Elder but Jaskier had had the best education Lettenhove could offer, and with the rumours going around about his mother’s fidelity and the elves, no one was surprised that Elder Speech was one of the languages he’d been forced to learn.

He swallowed and finally sucked in a shaky breath. “Geralt… Is this? Do you know…” he trailed off, tears were welling up in his eyes and his voice failed him, too thick with emotion.

“I know,” Geralt said softly, bringing a hand up to cup Jaskier’s cheek.

Jaskier whimpered, leaning into the touch. “It’s. It’s not a proposal,” Geralt said quickly but continued before Jaskier heart could break. “More of a proposal… to propose?”

Jaskier felt like crying, honestly it was a miracle that he wasn’t already. He’d loved Geralt for years, decades even. He’d given up on Geralt ever loving him back a long time ago, and now Geralt was… courting him?

It was archaic, a tradition found only in the depth of the library of Lettenhove and Oxenfurt. He felt like he’d stepped into a fairytale.

“Am. Am I dreaming?” he stammered. It felt like the only logical explanation.

“Don’t think so,” Geralt said with a shake of his head.

Jaskier nodded, then spun round on his heels with his hand buried into his hair. When he met Geralt’s gaze once again he narrowed his eyes. “And you’re not joking?” he asked, waving the point of the dagger in Geralt’s face.

Geralt chuckled and gently lowered the dagger with his hand. “No, Jaskier.”

“Oh cock!” Jaskier swore and then clapped his hand over his mouth. “You really mean it?”

Oh praise Melitele! Fuck it, praise bloody Lilit too. Praise any good that was listening in.

“I mean it,” Geralt reassured him with a heavy sigh. “and I’d really appreciate an answer?”

“Fuck, bollocks, shit!” Jaskier whined. “I mean. Yes, on all the gods, Geralt. Of course, it’s yes! Do you have any idea how long I’ve loved you?”

Geralt winced, his smile faltering. “Sorry, it takes me more time. Never even thought I could, not until you.”

Jaskier giggled, fucking giggled, and placed his hand on Geralt’s cheek. “Oh darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I would have stayed by your side and loved you in whatever way you allowed me to, even without shiny trinkets and nearly proposal.”

“Hmm,” Geralt smirked “shall I take them back?”

“Don’t you dare!” Jaskier shrieked and ran from his witcher, keeping his new engagement dagger safe and sound. “It’s mine now, Geralt!”

Geralt laughed and ran after him, only stopping when he had Jaskier trapped against a wall. The dagger remained in Jaskier’s firm grip, forgotten as their lips crashed together.

[virgil-writes]

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (Heisenberg x OC)

on AO3: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven (ao3 only) | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen (ao3 only, smut)

chapter 12 - cabin fever

SFW, around 5K words.

chapter 13 - liebchen (ao3 only, smut)

The sheets underneath him were worn but comfortable, ancient-looking in design but well taken care of. The bed frame is barely there, mattress a well-placed lattice away from being on the floor. He can’t remember the last time he’s been on a bed, the last time he’d laid his body down at all, for any reason. His back complains every other second, not because of the comfort of the bedding, but because it had gone without for so long. A wonderfully comfortable blanket covers him up to the hips, the soft mattress almost makes him feel like he is floating. Fuck, he really missed having a proper bed now.

He inspects himself carefully, still not fully convinced this is not a fever-induced hallucination. His hand is where it should be, and so is his leg, and every other part of his body that he recalled having before. There are half a dozen new scars that he can count, all healed over perfectly like they’d opened years ago instead of hours, forming a map of stories he would rather not tell. He is shirtless but is wearing pants now, his trench coat and hat nowhere to be found. He pushes the blanket aside to find the damn woolen slippers waiting for him on a woven rug. It doesn’t take him long to realize where he is, but nothing resembles her, no personal belongings on the nightstand, no desk or mirror or even a dresser. It looked as if the room was rarely visited, kept clean but empty, and he wondered if sleep was a foreign concept to her, too.

Hesitant, tentative movements take him down the ladder and into the living room, and he expects to find her hard at work at something or another, humming a tune while she cooks, petting the goat and telling it asinine, cutesy things in a soft voice. But the house is silent and she is nowhere to be found, the dog sits in front of the closed front door and watches his every move. It is not aggressive but watchful, like it had been given the task of keeping an eye on the ailing man and alerting his owner in case anything was amiss.

“I’m fine, fleabag.” He laughs at the dog and gets a huff in response, an acknowledgment, and the shepherd moves from its post at the door to give him passage if he so desires. Heisenberg gives it a well deserved pat on the head as it passes by, tail wagging hesitantly as it tried to make friends with him. He is glad to be alone - if anyone ever used this against him, he would deny it.

A plate awaits him at the dinner table, and despite his intentions of running out of there before she could see him again, breakfast is an offer he cannot bring himself to refuse. Bread and jam, a robust omelet served with sprinkles of cheese and herbs. He can almost see the aroma the coffee has left behind, and finds the pot on the side of the wood stove, cup and saucer set for him nearby.

He eats slowly and in silence, chews thoroughly before swallowing, as if he fears some abrupt movement would rip reality apart and throw him back into the pit of suffering he found himself in the night before. There is no blood, no pain; no sign of the madness he had come so close to drowning in. He is safe and comfortable, there is good food in his belly and a warm hearth to keep the cold at bay. His problems are far and cannot catch him, and maybe if he keeps stalling to finish breakfast he can stay in this bliss forever. The world is quiet outside, and so are his thoughts, for once in his life.

A shirt and sweater are neatly folded and arranged as to call attention on the couch, no doubt to replace his blood-stained, ragged trench coat. He feels naked without it, he muses as he pulls the moss-colored shirt over his head, and it feels awkward not to wear the hat and the glasses. It would be unpleasant if she were to catch him now, free of his usual regalia; he felt that she would see right through him, stare deep into his eyes and find out all he had worked so hard to hide.

He did not feel like Karl Heisenberg, Lord of the Village, powerful mutant capable of unspeakable acts of violence. He was… Karl, middle-aged immortal man who enjoyed tinkering, was a big fan of meat an potatoes and didn’t know what to do when he had time to waste in his hands. Karl, of German origin but Romanian by birth, come from a long line of miners and steel workers. People of few words and fewer luxuries, hardy of constitution and blunt to a fault. He had been content to be those things and nothing more, to carry on what the Heisenbergs had done for centuries, until life dumped him on his head and led him to where he is today.

But not today, because maybe just today he can forget, and let his gracious host distract him with her mystery and the delicate curves of her buttocks. Perhaps tomorrow he would go back to treating her like a tool he would use and discard, but today she would be none the wiser, and neither would he. The fresh air of the mountain and distance from the cramped confines of the factory would do him good, he decided, help reinvigorate his spirit and refresh his ideas, spark some inspiration. And if not, well, the food was excellent and she was easy on the eyes.

A pair of boots that didn’t belong to him were by the door, just the right size to fit him. He had walked all the way up barefoot, he remembers, but he would very much like to know how she seemed to have everything that he needed readily available. Was she clairvoyant alongside being a healer? Did she bleed money that she could buy information on him from the Duke and the apparel to go with it? He opened the door to find her outside, looking like the cat that ate the canary, a couple meters away from the gate that separated her plot of land from the heart of the forest. She had just emerged from amongst the trees, heavy coat over her shoulders and leather boots to keep the ice off her feet. Her hands were free, no basket for foraging or firewood in her arms. No sign of a knife or any other kind of weapon, but judging by the look on her face, he could swear she had just committed murder. Her eyes told him she would not speak of it.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” he began, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, at least trying to fish an explanation out of her. Instead she pretended to forget the suspicious circumstances and focused on him instead, her face lighting up at the sight of him up and about, like she didn’t expect to see him anytime soon. Had it been that bad?

“Good morning, my lord. Are you well?” Shame and madness aside, he thought, things were going swimmingly. “I hope the accommodations were to your liking.” Once again with the pleasantries, with the caring for what he thought of her hospitality. Did she get a kick out of being so kind? That was the most foolish thing he had ever heard. He tried to come up with a witty response that would catch her off guard, but the night had been long and there was too much tiredness swamping his mind, and all he got was honesty:

“Quite. Hadn’t slept in a bed in decades.” As if to validate his words, he stretched and grunted in approval, pains he did not even realize he’d had gone like magic.

“Well, it remains at your disposal,” was her response as she chuckled, wiping her hands on the embroidered apron before gesturing an invitation. There was dirt on her palms. “It may not be much, but it’ll give you a good night’s rest.” She motioned for him to follow, something he would grow accustomed to.

“You know,” he began, following her into the shed, accepting the shallow basket she handed him. “I bet it’d be even better if you were there with me.” She hummed in approval, a smile as devious as his on her face. The damn woman would always catch him off guard; Heisenberg was not used to being flirted with, words thrown about only half-seriously, only to make the villagers blush and Alcina mad. He had never followed up on any of it, because it was always meant to annoy, and the fact that she not only took him seriously but fired back pulled the rug right from under him. And boy did he like it.

They laughed but spoke no more of it, tension like static in the air, both fully aware the joke had more than a few nuggets of truth to it. A dozen different scenarios ran through his mind, on ways he could take her, mark her, ruin her. Inside the shed, behind the stables, propped on the porch railing. Standing, face pressed against the floor, legs tightly wrapped around his waist. She smirked as she passed by him, smirked like she could tell every image that went through his mind. Smirked like she knew he would not do any of it, that his flirting was just a front and he had never found the courage to take the plunge, not even once. Her wink was the cherry on the cake, the challenge that made his cheeks flush at just the right moment so that she wouldn’t see it.

The morning was spent tending to the animals and the garden, and she instructed him on how to feed the chickens and keep the tiny goat happy. Its name was Prince and it demanded to be treated like royalty, lest the puny humans faced his wrath and for now adorable headbutts. The thing followed him around the whole time, demanded his attention when he collected the eggs from the coop, when he let the horse out of the stable to let it stretch its legs. Only when the weather took a turn for the worse did it scurry off to hide in the pens with its mom, settling down on a nice and dry bundle of hay.

He was put in charge of firewood while she tended the garden. The innuendos were kept to a minimum, but the static never left, and he felt her eyes heavy on him as he brought the axe down, muscles flexing and veins showing on his forearms with the effort. Maybe he ought to do more housework around her, and she’d come around and do his bidding without hesitation.

When the wind blew away his hat, Heisenberg realized there would be no going back to the factory unless he hurried. The storm had been mounting for days now, but he had never been one to pay much attention to the tells of weather; he rarely left his hideout, and with the factory being mostly underground, he would be trapped inside for a few days at best. He had perhaps half an hour for a journey that would take him one or two under such bad weather, and he would have to be lucky for the bridge to hold if it got too bad. She wasted little time paying attention to his inner turmoil, and went about securing the animals instead, making sure they had food, water and a warm place to spend the night. Snow was falling fast by the time she was done, and she ushered him in when he’d stood there too long, snow coming up to his shins already. They brushed off as much as they could on the porch before heading inside, water dripping down their shoulders. There was a long pause as they both watched the storm come down through the living room window, a knowing silence that the day would be long, and the night longer, and neither would be leaving that cabin for at least the next day.

“Well, it seems the bed is yours for the night again, my lord,” were her words as she bolted the door, a hint of joy in her voice. He imagined it was a lonely existence, secluded in the mountains and feared by all, not part of any community and especially not theirs. She always seemed so happy to see him, to see another human whose first instinct wasn’t to attack her. He would pity her if he cared, if his existence wasn’t equally as lonesome, if he hadn’t fashioned it to be exactly what he wished. He’d never needed anyone yapping about everything and nothing in his ears, interrupting his work and diverting his attention from what really mattered. Alcina was insane to have taken in the girls, really; children sounded like an exhausting chore that never ended. He never understood why she always looked so content in spite of it all. His mother always told him one day he would understand, he would want to keep someone close, and then he would want someone else just like them to cherish and love, to teach and share the good and bad moments. He would turn a hundred soon and never quite felt like it; maybe in another hundred years?

His only answer was a lopsided smile, tired and sad, and he tried to brace for the barrage of questions and comments that were certain to come. She was trapped inside her living space with the stranger who emerged from the guts of the forest, come from a village rife with death, where he was sovereign save for Mother dearest. He was the favorite son and the most powerful, gifted with strength and wits and influence and power. Those he could not talk down he could easily buy out, and those he could not buy out he could easily destroy. He was a fabled recluse and rumors ran rampant of the work he’d conduct in his factory, of treasures he kept deep underground. It would be a long day, the first in forever that he would spend so close to another breathing, talking human, and he did not know what to expect aside from a lot of chit-chat and a mounting headache. Surely she would like to know all about him, now that he couldn’t run away from her. Surely she would pry into his motives, pepper in questions about his siblings and the village. A thousand smug answers he conjured in his mind, each snappier than the other, every retort a question thrown back at her. It was only fair, of course; she had thrown much at him, bits and pieces of improbabilities that he couldn’t put together, and if she intended on digging deep, he would do the same.

To his surprise, all she did was leave her boots behind next to him and proceed to ignore him, going about her daily life like he was of no consequence. He found himself stunned, rooted in front of the door with a puzzled expression on his face. She looked at him as if to say well, this is it, make yourself at home and enjoy the day, and once again the domesticity of it all broke him more than words could ever have. He felt weird as he reached for the papers he had brought with him the night before, tucked next to the myriad of books on her shelf. They remained silent when he took a seat at the table and pushed open the schematics to get a better look at them, the potted plant centerpiece serving as a paper weight so he could work properly.

First, she dusted the shelves, reorganized her herb cabinet and found a place for his hat. The curtains were drawn and she took a peek outside, checking on the pens and the stable to make sure the animals would have a comfortable enough day. Then she bound off to a corner of the living room, producing a basket with threads and fabric, yarn and needles that she brought over to the couch. She sat cross-legged, close to the fire, and only spared him a brief glance before tending to her needlework. He felt weird as he reached for the papers he had brought with him the night before, tucked next to the myriad of books on her shelf. They remained silent when he took a seat at the table and pushed open the schematics to get a better look at them, the potted plant centerpiece serving as a paper weight so he could work properly. The first few minutes were nerve-racking, his paranoia telling him he would look away and find her peering curiously over his shoulder, trying to steal away his secrets to use against him as leverage. He read the same words again and again only to realize he hadn’t understood them, eyes turning to her every minute to make sure she still hadn’t moved. She caught him eventually, eyebrow raised in his direction as she tried to make sense of the situation, mouth turning into an “oh” as she jumped off the couch and stood on the tips of her toes to reach the very top of the bookshelf. A minute later and she had brought him a candle and holder, a half-empty box of matches in her other hand. She stood at the other end of the table and pushed it in his direction, still not curious regarding his work, but figuring that, even in daylight, the cabin was dark and he likely was not used to doing things by candlelight. It took him a moment to process and bring the light closer, shocked as he was to see that she intended to leave him to his own devices but cared about his comfort.

The hours were a blur then, when he convinced himself she would not surprise him, and his suspicions were correct; a change of environment had done wonders for his creativity, solutions jumping at him paper after paper, a multitude of new projects and ideas for him to try once he was back at the factory. He can’t remember the last time he had been so productive, the last time he had folded everything in and told himself he was done for the day, because he had done more than enough. She had brought him tea and bread at some point and he had eaten absentmindedly, crumbs and drops of jam staining the papers, but he could not bring himself to care. After tea she had brought him coffee, and then a jug of water, and while he felt a bit like a caged animal being fed periodically, it did wonders to keep his work flowing.

Night had already fallen when he finally took a break, got up to stretch his legs and look around to see just what she had been doing this whole time. Her crafts basket was back in its place, a sock taking shape on the needles. A book abandoned where she was sitting instead, the little witch nowhere near it. Instead she was busy preparing dinner, swaying her hips to a tune but quiet as a mouse, like she was going out of her way to give him peace and quiet. He appreciated it, try as he might to deny it, how she cared without meddling, made herself present but not intruding.

Maybe he should hire her to be his assistant, help him organize the half-done office he had begun building on the upper floors of the factory. She certainly would be great at helping him keep his affairs in order - and by that he meant she would keep him fed, mostly, the one thing he kept forgetting to do and that always set him back. He could provide her with something better than this, surely, her very own quarters with modern wonders such as electricity and proper plumbing, a bathroom of her own, maybe even a fridge. Had she ever seen a fridge before? He imagined she would decorate the place with all manner of silly things that would only serve to gather dust, knickknacks and wreaths and woven things, and that it would smell of flowers and fresh-baked bread. Her responsibilities would include housekeeping and Heisenkeeping - organizing his papers so he wouldn’t lose them, keeping track of all of the family meetings he had to attend, dealing with the Duke for supplies so he wouldn’t have to. He’d reward her handsomely, give her days off, be a good employer unlike his parents had been. Not a bad plan, if he did say so himself.

He had only forgotten to factor in that she was, still, a powerful, self-described blood witch. He had been entertaining himself with the thoughts of having her around as he watched her prepare dinner; she’d gone hunting in the morning, he realized, two hares hanging upside down from an iron ring. She took one down to place it at the cutting board, its insides clean but pelt still intact. He had no doubt she would be skilled at skinning it; when one lives as long as she has with no contact with the outside world, such skills are necessary for survival. What he did not expect was the way she’d go about it: a firm hand grabbed a handful of fur, gave it a gentle twist and pulled, effortlessly, the entire thing coming off in her hand, no cuts and no tears, neck and head and all. He could see the knife from where he was sitting, placed blade down into the ceramic jug.

Heisenberg bent forward to see better when she did it the second time around, and it was as unexplainable and horrifying as the first. Gross but humane, like she simply coaxed the skin to slide right off the flesh. If the thing had been alive, he imagined it would have been quite painful, a whole human suit in her hand and living flesh left behind. The thought almost makes him gag, a disgusted sound escaping his lips and making her realize she’s not alone. She slowly turns to face him with a sheepish smile, like a child caught red-handed. “Pretend you didn’t see that?” She offers, but he shakes his head no. Not in a million years he would forget the sheer brutality of it. He waits but she doesn’t explain it, goes back to making dinner like nothing had happened.

“Could you do that to something… Bigger, darling?” He approaches her slowly, like a predator carefully stalking its prey, though he feels far from a position of power at the moment. She nods her head yes. “Like, say, a good ole’ human?” He whispers in her ear, a shiver running down her spine at the sudden intrusion and hot breath against her skin, flirting his go-to attempt at getting back the reigns of any situation.

“Want me to test it on you, my lord?” She quips in the same whisper tone, and he is wise enough to back off for now.

“Think I’ll pass.” Before he can run back to his seat, she hands him the smaller, bone-bladed knife and pushes a bowl of potatoes towards him, the sudden motion startling him and eliciting a chuckle out of her. Looks like he’ll have to earn his keep. For a while they work shoulder to shoulder in peaceful silence, save for his grunts of frustration at not being able to peel a potato successfully. It’s been a long time. “You ought to show me what you can do one of these days. I’m awful curious.” She considers it for a second, head moving left and right, knife following the movement.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” and she doesn’t mean metal bending and knife juggling, he knows. He can’t think of a reason why she would want to see him, truly see him, monstrous appearance and all, but if that’s the price to pay, he’ll gladly do it. It would be good for his ego, too, that priceless look on her face as he shifts into the stuff of nightmares.

There are no more gruesome sneak peeks for the night and soon the stew is ready, he helps set the table and she finds a bottle of wine she’d stashed away for a rainy day. She explains over dinner that he was quite feverish when he arrived, and it’s a wonder he made it through the night. He truly was sturdy, no ifs or buts about it, she said in appreciation. There were cuts and bruises all over him, all shapes and sizes, like he’d fallen through glass. Did he have an accident at the factory? There was genuine concern in her voice, though they both knew that she knew better.

His curiosity gets the better of him and he experiments with a few questions, each answer leaving him further in the dark. How old was she? Somewhere around a hundred and thirty. She remembers being old enough to read around 1902, when she saw the date on a newspaper she fished out of the gutter, but beyond that time was either a blur or she’d been too young to remember. Where did she come from? Not a clue, but she’s been around: she’s seen Italian castles, been to centuries old British pubs. She’s seen the Brandenburg Gate and visited Chateau de Versailles. She’s bathed in the beautiful waters of the Greek coast, made a pilgrimage to the volcanic beaches of Iceland. She’s never made it past the ocean to the Americas or down to the warmer climates of Africa, but time has never been an issue, and she figures she’ll get to it eventually. He asks her why all the wandering, is someone after her? Her breath hitches and her eyes lower, shoulders slump, a deep breath before the replies. Something like that, and he understands maybe it’s best if he doesn’t push.

They returned to the topic of his feverish display once dinner was over, with her cautioning that he had been lucky this time around, lucky that she was home, lucky that he even made it across the bridge and found his way home. Home, her use of the word is deliberate and strokes something warm and fuzzy within him. Disgusting. There was the matter of the shard, he took a sit on the couch as she reached into a drawer to pull out a bundle of clean cloth, and he feigns confusion when she unwraps it to reveal a piece of metal shaped similar to an arrowhead. He recognized it, the shavings of a project he had worked on… Maybe a year ago? It’d been sticking out through his ribs when he arrived, she said, and it looked anything but recent; infection had taken around it, skin red and swollen. She could see that it was agonizingly painful - had he not noticed it at all?

“Ah, so that’s what it was.” He blurted without really meaning to, a humorless chuckle that left her confused. “I’d been feeling this weird poke in my ribs for the longest time - thought I’d broken something.” He shrugs and she nods, clearly aware of their peculiar situations, perhaps now beginning to comprehend just how many layers of fucked up he was made of. “You’re a miracle worker, doll.” His fingers instinctively trace over the spot where the shard had been, nothing there but a scar that had healed remarkably well. “How can I ever repay you?”

Money, gems, jewelry? She didn’t strike him as the materialistic kind. No, she was all about the meaningful gestures, the showing of kindness. There were a few ways he could think of showing his appreciation - slamming her body against the wall to press a hard kiss on her lips, a nice, firm tug on her hair as he nibbled on her neck. Or maybe something softer if she was so inclined, more romantic even, like a well-placed, resounding slap on her ass cheek. “I’ll be sure to think of something, my lord.” Was the answer she gave, though he was sure she meant something else entirely judging by the way she let her coat slide off to reveal her bare shoulders as she set about getting ready for bed. Her hands gathered more and more of her skirt until it’d reached the middle of her thighs, delicate lace adorning the band of her stockings, tiny suspenders disappearing from sight but serving to peak his curiosity. She undid the hooks that kept it in place, fingers threatening to roll the garment down agonizingly slow. Instead she turned to look at her enraptured audience, the pose propping her ass up and so close to his hands. He had thought it had all been an act, carefully orchestrated to put him on edge, but the gasp of surprise she let out told him otherwise. “I am so sorry, my lord.” She quickly let go of it all and stood up straight, a flush running across her face. “I am not used to having visitors.”

“You needn’t stop on account of little ole’ me, darling.” He is quick to say, rich laughter that filled the room with mischief. Heisenberg sprawls further onto the couch, legs parting like an invitation. Best seat in the house, in the whole village even. “I did enjoy it.”

When it was time to say goodnight, he kept his composure and even helped her move one of the pillows and blanket down the ladder. If his mother were alive she would chastise him for not being a gentleman, for not refusing vehemently to let her sleep on an uncomfortable couch instead of her own bed. But the day was over and so were the pleasantries, and he would have to take the time to cleanse her off his mind, ease himself back into his usual mindset. She was impossibly alluring, impossibly annoying, impossibly loving. There was no figuring her out and it seemed there would be no delving deeper in. Playtime was over and it was back to work tomorrow as soon as she storm had passed. He needed to shed away her kindness before it managed to ooze under his skin, but she had no intention of making it any easier on him.

“Here you go,” Heisenberg had no time to stand on ceremony, shoved the pillow in her direction and flashed her a smile to keep up appearances, mind wandering somewhere else, somewhere where he did not care about her. It was better this way. “Good night, sweetheart.”

Even though he tried, he never truly reached that fabled place where she was of no importance. Not that he would ever acknowledge it.

[msbelmonttepesbelnades]

Hello there! I hope You're doing well, even if You're busy 💦I was wondering if you could write something (short fic or HC) about a shy s/o who tries to befriend with Alucard & Hector, but they being cold or even a little bit aggresive (after What happened in s3, no spoilers if you didn't watch it yet!) but s/o is determined to helps them even receiving nothing in exchange; because s/o loved them after all & just want Hector & Alucard to smile genuinely again 💔

A/n: I added issac. Since I’ve been gone so long I’ll be doing bonuses ;)

Befriending Alucard & The Devil Forgemasters

Alucard

He’s cold.

Colder than dry ice.

You wandered onto the grounds of the castle.

Wounded and weak.

He was going to leave you there.

But, he’s not a monster.

Yet.

He stood over you, looking down with a vacant expression.

You smelled like blood, sweat and ... horse piss.

He knelt down to roll you over on your back to look at your face.

My my, aren’t you a cute one.

He’ll take you in after all but, only until you’re able to stand on your own two feet again.

When you finally come to, he’s leaning against the canopy bed post.

“You’ve been sleeping for 16 hours. Once you’re fed and smelling...better. Leave.”

You had no recollection of how you ended up there.

Even so, you weren’t ready to leave.

He seemed lonely. He wore it on his sleeve, despite the cold exterior he sported.

You found yourself in the kitchen, he was nowhere in sight but, a plate of freshly foraged food and cooked fish sat on the table.

Alu watched from the shadows, fighting the faint smile threatening to crack his stone face.

The way you swallowed and inhaled the food reminded him of a child.

He frowned.

After you ate the food you moved to bathe.

You gawked around to make sure you weren’t being watched.

Ever since you arrived you felt as if eyes were on you.

They were, he was just good at hiding.

He watched you bathe, so serene and beautiful.

When you finally dressed, he confronted you.

“Leave.”

He didn’t want you there. He wasn’t smiling and well, it’s not like you could defy him.

He wasn’t above killing you just because he can.

Cause he would and will if you refused.

‘No?’

He genuinely wasn’t expecting you to say that. He believed he looked scary enough.

You stood your ground.

‘You’re all alone here, this place is like the catacombs..’

He creased his brow, he didn’t care if you were right.

His sword came flying at you, the tip pointing at the side of your temple.

You flinched, you couldn’t hold up that front anymore.

He saw past that, and it amused him.

“Leave I won’t ask again.”

You weren’t going to take your chances with a sword pointed at your head.

You left.

Albeit, you stayed in the woods.

He couldn’t stop you from living out there, he caught sight of you trying to fish for yourself one day. A comical sight.

During the early morning he halted in his tracks. At his feet was a small pile of foraged food.

Was this from you?

Everyday, for the past week you left food at the foot of the castle doors for him.

He ignored it each time.

It wasn’t until there were no more signs of your presence in the forest did he care about where you were.

Never miss something until it’s gone.

He didn’t bother looking for you though. Assumed you just gave up.

It’s expected.

One cold night there was a loud crash in the depths of the wine cellar.

He wasn’t in there, he wondered if an animal got in.

That’s when he found you, in the corner under a table, sleeping.

It was freezing but, it didn’t compare to being outside.

He left you there.

At least you weren’t dead.

That same morning he caught you rummaging around his pantry.

You didn’t have time to process anything.

He pinned you down to the table and hovered over you, baring his fangs.

“I knew you were a thief.”

You stuttered out, but nothing coherent spewed forth. You could only shake your head, trying to reach down into your satchel.

He did it for you, still holding you in place. As he looked into your bag he saw a bird, a small wounded bird.

It reminded him of you.

He let you up with a frown.

“You were making sure it didn’t freeze and starve to death, I see..”

He was now conflicted, he almost killed you for being a good person.

He was turning into his father lmao 🚩

“Fine. You and the bird can stay here. Just..leave me be.”

He left again.

As weeks went by Alu kept his distance, you tried your best to close it but that proved to be difficult.

You knew you were getting somewhere though, because he smiled.

“You named the bird Lisa?”

Hector

He’s got a nice little room for him, it beats laying naked in a cell right?

Lenore gave him a “servant”

If Hector needed anything, you were to let the the vampire Queens know.

And so you sat with Hector, he was silent and he never looked your way.

You were a vampire, and yet charged with his remedial task?

He didn’t understand.

‘Do you need anything Hector?’

“Stop talking to me.”

That’s as far as you get with him when you ask.

You don’t press him.

Lenore said he might try to choke you out but she said she “tamed” him so it should be fine.

You bring his food, his work tools, and books.

Never does he acknowledge your presence.

It’s like you’re a ghost.

As you set down his plate you move around to clean his room.

He wasn’t doing it himself and Lenore wouldn’t stand for a messy or dirty forgemaster.

He ignored you for a good thirty minutes.

For twenty-five more minutes, he watched you.

You were quiet, introverted and shy.

You were only just doing your job and being polite for these past few days.

He was being nothing but awful to you.

Not that it bothered him, in the slightest given his treatment by the vampires.

Carmilla and Lenore more specifically.

Your reservation is what drew him in ultimately.

“You don’t have to clean this you know.”

‘You aren’t so, I do. Lenore doesn’t like messes.’

Hector scoffed at the mention of her name and looked away from you.

Still he was cold, but he talked more.

“I’d like to go out for a walk if that’s possible.”

You escorted him on a stroll through the castle grounds.

When you two stopped by a balcony over a snowy cliff he sighed out.

“I’m trapped here, forced to create an army...I should’ve died back in Dracula’s castle.”

You frown, reaching out to touch his face he quickly smacked your hand back and stared at you hard.

“Don’t touch me. I know how all of you vampires see us humans.”

He was bitter.

“Food, or a pet play thing. I will not let you do the same to me, Lenore did that just fine.”

He left, walking back to his little corner of the castle.

A few more days a had passed.

Your attitude did not falter towards him which only confused the forgemaster.

He was an asshole and yet you were kind.

The only one to show him a shred of true kindness since he’s arrived there.

“What’s your name?”

He randomly asked, you look his way a faint smile on his face.

Was he finally going to open up?

Isaac

A traveler you were, there was a lunatic old man who had someone you loved dearly under some kind of mind control spell.

You sought out to free them, or so you thought.

You passed the old forgemaster woman a while ago.

Finally you came across what looked to be a mass genocide.

You looked around in horror, seeing night horde creatures and bodies littered around the entire area.

You were going to run but a giant winged beast dropped down in front of you.

What the fuck is that!!!

You fell back and crawled back as it dawned on you.

You were about to get eaten by a monster.

All you had with you was a a measly little curved dagger.

You gripped it tightly, if this was your fate you weren’t going to go down easy.

“I see you’re a fighter.”

Who said that lmao.

No one was in sight, before you knew it the wingged beast swept you up.

It dropped you on a stone walkway that lead to the castle Issac took over.

You scrambled to your feet, holding the dagger out as the creatures of the night began to surround you.

“Why have you come here?”

That same voice..

It only made you look for it harder, you twirled your head to the left and then to the right

Finally a man in a cloak and dark clothing showed his face.

Staring at you blankly.

“Speak now or be eaten”

He wasn’t giving you much of a choice so you told him.

He looked you over before looking away from you.

“Whoever you’re looking for is long dead, they’re likely one of my night creatures.”

Issac’s red eyes drifted over to catch your expression.

It wasn’t sad, you looked to be relieved more than anything.

Were you different than the humans he has come to know?

‘They’re no longer suffering.’

His eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting to hear that.

He was silent for a brief moment, still undoubtedly curious about you.

“Yes..that is true.”

Everything you came there for was gone you had nothing, you looked over at Issac and he met your eyes.

Subconsciously your cheeks warmed a bit and his eyes narrowed.

‘Are...you gong to make me a creature of the night?’

“That entirely depends on you.”

He twirled his knife idly, a faint smile on the corner of his lips.

“I can’t have you leave yet, prove your worth as a human then maybe I’ll consider letting you go.”

You wondered how you could do that, by the way he spoke you could tell he was a man of deep intellect.

You knew just how to prove your worth.

“A conversation?”

He pondered it, and accepted. A conversation on philosophy and morals.

He wondered if he’d like what you had to say.

After a few hours of talking he seemed to be content.

The views you both were akin to on another, he didn’t protest to you staying a bit longer than you first intended.

He liked hearing you talk.

After all, you had nowhere to go and Issac was the kindest human you’ve met in quite a long time.

[the-al-chemist]

Director’s cut on the happiest, saddest and angstiest scenes scenes you had to write so far 💛💛💛

Oh gosh. This is going to be a LONG answer. I’m sorry. And thanks for asking, as always 🥰

There is a cut because of rambling and discussions of a somewhat angsty nature - warnings for trauma and PTSD as I’m discussing my most recent chapter.

So, the happiest scene:

The happiest scene I’ve published so far is probably the whole of the final chapter of Secret Staircase, “Spring, Awoken”, in which the Cursed Ice defrosts and the whole of Hogwarts takes to the newly green and summery grounds to celebrate.

Part of the chapter shows Artemis and her friends just enjoying the warmer weather and chilling by the Black Lake, making daisy chains, roller skating, and just being thirteen-year-olds. It’s very wholesome. There’s also a little bit of foreshadowing (you know how much I love foreshadowing) in the form of the line “They even helped Hagrid and Fang to forage at the edge of the forbidden forest, identifying the blackthorn trees and picking their sloe berries, which were all the sweeter for the duration and bitterness of the frost”. This is a direct reference to Artemis’ later adventures - in fifth year, she will have her beloved Spruce wand replaced by a Blackthorn wand, and she is going to have real difficulties with it. According to wand lore, blackthorn wands need to go through a period of struggling and turmoil to become fully bonded with their owners, and she will, after some struggles, eventually come to grips with her new wand.

However, the scene in this chapter I actually was going to talk about was the first Quidditch game Artemis attends, because I know how much you love Quidditch! It’s got excitement, it’s got drama, it’s got 👏 Charlie 👏 Weasley’s 👏 dimples!!!! (Ps, thank you again for this minor detail, it really is the gift that keeps on giving)

Not that Artemis gives a flying fuck, of course. “He doesn’t look that fast to me” is her effectively breaking the fourth wall like she’s on the office, telling me to stop shipping her with him, and to stop being such a pathetic simp. Ugh, she’s annoying. And right, tbh.

Now, the saddest scene:

In chapter 8 of Secret Staircase (“The Rematches”), Artemis takes Bill to the cursed corridor, and there is a single moment of stillness and sadness in what otherwise is a fairly action-packed chapter:

“You know, little one,” he said, lowering his wand and turning his face to Artemis. “You and I make a pretty good team.”

He ruffled Artemis’ hair with his free hand, and stepped through the gap they’d created in the ice wall. Artemis lingered back, overpowered by a confusing mixture of feelings of warmth, and sadness, and pleasure, and guilt.

“What are you waiting around for?” Bill called back to her, realising that she wasn’t following him.

“Nothing,” Artemis said quickly, shaking her head as if to clear it, and she too stepped through the ice wall, a freezing cold spot of water falling onto her face as she did.

Here we have another classic case of Artemis not understanding her own emotions. The gesture of Bill ruffling her hair isn’t just an affectionate big-brotherly action, it’s the exact same action that Jacob performs right before he leaves. It brings back this sweet sadness of Artemis’ memories of her brother, of his abandonment, and of this distinct sense of “missing” she has. It also has this significance for her and Bill’s relationship: they have a real brother-sister bond, that Artemis feels guilty for. On a level, she WISHES that Bill was her brother, and she feels completely guilty for that. It’s a feeling she delves into more in Figures in the Shadows, but right here, she is completely struck by all these thoughts without warning. Being Artemis, though, she does what she always does with things she’d rather ignore: ignores them.

And finally, the angstiest scene:

Oh, this has to be my most recent chapter, “The Problem with Penny”. You know a lot about my thought process with this one, and it really was such a struggle to write.

First, we have Artemis reading Penny’s emotions without realising it. There’s a reason she is the only one to notice that something’s wrong, and it isn’t because she is observant (she is not observant). It’s because she is a Legilimens. How else would she be able to “hear the sound of Penny’s eyes blinking in the darkness and her tears rolling down her face to her pillow”? The description of Penny’s PTSD symptoms made me so upset, as did her final confession.

As for the confession itself, I tried to utilise the pauses as much as possible. Artemis is horrified by what Penny is telling her, and by Penny’s obvious distress. I was, too. The dialogue was loosely inspired by reading statements issued by victims of violence and sexual assault, which at first, I thought added a realism and a deeper symbolism to the scene overall, but about a week before I started publishing part 3, I started to panic. Maybe this was too much?! I had a second panic half an hour before I published the chapter. Luckily, I had a wonderful bestie to read it through with me (twice!) and put my mind at ease, and judging from the generally positive response I’ve received from the chapter, my initial idea paid off, and Bestie (as always) was right. I’m actually pretty proud of this chapter, even though I hated writing it.