#and she doesn't like me so that was a whole Ordeal in and of itself

[rockybloo]

Is Nana legitimately uncomfortable with the idea of being a mom or is she just flustered by the idea of it?

Both.

I'll start this long response off by saying that Jack and Nana DO have kids IN AN AU! They have six of them in an AU I refer to as the "Parent AU" where I can toy with the concept and dynamic of the two having offspring.

BUT in the canon of Beanstalked, and basically all the other AUs featuring the two that aren't the Parent AU, Nana doesn't want kids.

The thought results in very mixed feelings for her, with discomfort outweighing her comfort. She loves Jack and if the situation ever occurred where she was pregnant, she'd feel better knowing its his kid because he's a trustworthy and protective fella who'd never let anything happen to her. And the thought of carrying his children does make her flustered and gives her butterflies sometimes...

But she'd very much love to avoid ever having to deal with being knocked up in the first place. The idea of being pregnant, dealing with all the issues that come with pregnancy like the mood swings, cravings, weird body stuff, fluctuating energy, and the ordeal of childbirth itself is just too much for her.

Add in the fact having kids is a never ending responsibility and stressor, especially with the world she and Jack live in where literally ANYTHING can happen, and you got Nana's typically tough and stoic exterior crumble and she becomes more skittish and avoidant of the topic.

Jack doesn't really have kids on the mind either. I say "doesn't really" because he is honestly leaving the idea to Nana to decide. It's her body and her decision ultimately. After all these years, dude is still ecstatic that she decided to date him at all. So having kids isn't an end goal for him, he just wants a happy life with his future wife.

I decided that Jack and Nana don't have kids in their canon timeline because it's a rarity to see a male and female in a romantic relationship that don't want or have children. And I grew up constantly having couples in animate movies and series I watch have kids since it was basically the default. Even if they didn't have kids in the first movie, you could bet your ass that the sequel either had the couple from the first dealing with children or they toss in a last minute twist where the girl reveals she's pregnant.

And around the time I was plotting out the ending of Beanstalked, a lot of the shounen I was into or knew about, were ending with couples having babies (typically as a set up to a spin off focusing on a next gen situation).

As someone who doesn't want kids at all, I think it's important to have a couple who also make it apparent they don't want kids. It's a POV that, AGAIN, isn't that frequent of an occurrence in media featuring a m/f relationship. And Red Beans is a deeply personal OC ship for me, which is why they are like...the only ship out of the main three that don't have kids in their canon. Pluto and Nova craft Comet, and Sweetheart and Bitterbat wind up giving birth to 13 whole little monsters.

Jack and Nana don't have an kids in their canon future because I want their love for each other to be enough for them to be happy together.

[tetedurfarm]

words of wisdom if you ever think 'i would like to move to the country and buy some livestock' you need to be able to do fence. you have to have the time and ability, or at the very least money to hire someone, because you WILL be doing fence all the time for the rest of your life forever and ever amen

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

In the aftermath of his “little outburst”, he's hellbent on making it up to her. It starts with multiple orgasms and ends in a confession that surprises himself.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Vaginal sex. Overstimulation. Somnophilia. Anal sex. Sex toys. Fluff? (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 6.5k

FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN 🟥 SIXTEEN

He watches her closely, this submissive little thing, as she lies on her side, legs bent at the knees, torso turned, bare chest rising and falling, small hands clutching at the sheets, eager eyes following his every move.

“Turn around, darling,” he says quietly, standing at the foot of the bed. “Let me see.”

She inhales deeply, pressing her lips into a thin line, but then obeys and rolls onto her stomach, stretching her legs carefully to present the thick red welts on the backs of her thighs to him. His work. He clenches his jaw at the sight.

It's been a moment of weakness, to take his frustration out on her. A moment of unadulterated wrath, a strange accumulation of things that were not her fault. He should have punched himself instead of hitting her with his belt, but he's never been the self-harming type. She still didn't deserve the violence.

This fucking girl...

She didn't have to forgive him, she could have accepted her fate and lived with the monster that he is, hating him for the rest of her stay. He would have understood it, it wouldn't have changed anything for him, but her life would have been much worse, for sure. But in all her submissiveness, she still knows what's best for her, how to make this whole situation somewhat easier on herself. And so she's forgiven him, or something like that.

He's said his part, and he's meant it too. He never apologizes, it's not in his nature, it's not how he's become who he is now. But she deserved it, his apology, no matter how meager it has been. It's all he could have done. Admitting a mistake, promising not to repeat it. And he meant that too. He doesn't want to hurt her in a way that's not also somewhat pleasurable for her.

There's a fine line between pain and pleasure, and he's shown it to her many times before, but the belting has been too much. Well, not the act itself, the circumstances around it. It hasn't been the right time. Maybe, one day, she'll understand the thrill behind it, the bliss that can come from being spanked and caned and whipped, and he'll be there to show it to her. Not anytime soon, first he has to rebuild the trust he's lost.

She's made the first move, came to him, made him take her, and she's made the first move again, after his reflection, his apology, she came to him, touched him, kissed him, rebuilt the bridge he's burned down before. His cute little angel, afraid of conflict, eager to please, the girl he doesn't deserve and still keeps for himself, and somehow, the whole ordeal has brought them closer together.

Once she's had her arms around his neck and his tongue in her mouth, he had scooped her up and carefully carried her to the small bedroom of the cabin. It's one of his get-away houses, deep in the woods, safe and sound, and just them, with no distractions whatsoever. A place to stay until the builders and movers are done in his penthouse. Even after everything that's happened, he's still sure she'll like the surprise he's planned for her. But one thing at a time.

Now it's them, in the bedroom, where he's put her to the floor, where she's looked up at him with big dark eyes, pupils blown in lust, despite her obvious discomfort. He's helped her out of her dress, and without prompt or command, she has climbed onto the bed and lay there, ready for him, a naked little thing adorned with those heavy leather straps, the toys he's almost forgotten about still buzzing inside her.

He can see the wetness between her thighs, and he can only imagine how on edge she must be. Edge being the word, as she's certainly edged herself for hours now, never even close to any kind of release, just the constant hum of the vibrators, her muscles in a never-ending cycle of clenching and unclenching, and the belting has probably done its part as well. If anyone deserves a mind-blowing orgasm or two (or more) after all that, then it's this patient girl.

Crawling onto the bed with her, he gently places his hand on her calf, slowly rubbing his fingers upwards, teasing at the back of her knee, before carefully tracing the horizontal red lines across her thighs. Luckily he hasn't broken her skin, only bruised it badly. May still take a few days to properly heal. She winces when he touches the welts, and he quickly soothes his hand over her rear up to her lower back.

“It'll get better soon, don't worry,” he tells her quietly, and she hums into the pillow she's clutching with both arms.

He moves up the bed until he's kneeling right next to her hip, his fingers playing with the black straps. She stiffens under the motion, but he ignores it and starts unfastening the small belts, one by one, until he can carefully remove the harness without having to push it down her legs and over the irritated skin. Putting a hand under her stomach, he pushes her hips up, and as soon as he does, the toy in her cunt slips free, with no longer being held in place.

She lets out an embarrassed whine, her hand moving between her legs to catch it, but he's quicker and grabs it gently, pulls it out the rest of the way. It's drenched in her juices, warm and wet, still humming as he closes his fingers around it. He's tempted to push it back in and tease her some more, and he would have done so if it weren't for the nagging thoughts in his head to give her some rest. He needs to shut those up soon. He can't have that.

Holding onto the dildo, he moves his free hand along the cleft between her ass cheeks, then pokes at the toy in her ass, and the plug still holds, immobile except for the barely there vibration, gripped tightly by her tense muscles. He leaves it right where it is. She can handle it a little longer.

Resting his large hand on the swell of her cute little butt, he heaves himself off the bed and puts the vibrating toy on the nightstand. It starts spinning lazily in circles, its low buzzing sound amplified by the hard surface. With an amused sigh, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns the vibrator off, but amps the one in her ass up to five. She squeals in surprise and rolls onto her side, breathing a little harder.

Watching her closely, he quickly undresses, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants and underwear before shrugging off his jacket and shirt. He's back on the bed in no time, telling her to scoot over and she does, giving him room until he's able to sit against the headboard, legs outstretched, while she's curled up on her side again, looking at him curiously, body shivering under the sensations pulsing through her.

“Come straddle me,” he says as he meets her gaze, and slowly, she moves, obeys, basically crawls over him on her hands and knees, careful not to strain the tight skin of her bruised thighs. His hands are on her waist as she settles on his legs, dripping cunt exposed to his sight, and he licks his lips in anticipation. Her face is flushed, and she hovers on her knees, not really sitting down because she can't, and she probably won't be able to for a day or two either.

He indulges her, tilts his head. She's never been on top before, and he usually prefers positions where he's in control, but if he wants to gain her trust again, he needs to let her have at least the illusion of power. So he lets go of her and grabs his cock in one hand while putting the other arm behind his head. She's following the motion, eyes raking over his arousal, and while he pumps it lazily, he shifts beneath her, lifts his legs just enough to make her slip closer to his groin.

Without issuing any command, he holds his cock in his hand, ready for her to slip onto it. He can already imagine her bouncing on it, and maybe he should let her be on top more often. She's a sight to behold. Her small tits quivering, nipples hard, the flush all over her body, stomach fluttering, goosebumps pebbling her legs. She's braced her hands on his hips, and he nudges her again before she understands. Slowly she moves closer, glistening pussy lips hovering barely an inch away from his cockhead, so all she has to do is sit down on it.

But of course she hesitates, body bent over him, looking down at where they're supposed to be connected. He watches her, amusement and admiration making his heart swell and his stomach tense. He could just buck his hips up and sink into her warmth, but instead he gently grabs her hand and guides it to his cock, makes her close it around his shaft.

She swallows hard, squeezing his length as she balances herself on it, knees shaking, her tongue poking out between her tight lips as she concentrates. His hands are on her waist again, just holding her, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over her warm skin, but when she takes a bit too long after all, he moves his fingers around her rear, teases between her cheeks, and pokes at the plug.

A whimper escapes her, but in her startle, she pushes down on him, and he feels himself slipping into the tight grip of her cunt. A soft groan leaves his throat, and he relaxes against the headboard. Breathing harder, she lets go of his cock and braces her hands on his chest, leaning over him, her eyes moving to find his. He gives her a small smile, watching her blush spread down her neck, and her lips twitch before she slowly, inch by inch, sinks onto him.

He can feel the soft vibrations of the butt plug through her gummy walls, and his deep moan mirrors the soft mewl that escapes her when he bottoms out, all of him inside of her, and she settles on his thighs, her own twitching slightly under the strain. His hands find her waist once more, giving her guidance and a firm hold, and for a moment he lets her adjust to the intrusion, to the sensation of being filled and stretched again while the toy buzzes away in her ass.

“You're doing great, baby,” he whispers softly, relaxing into the bed as he just watches her. “You look so beautiful impaled on my cock, you know that?”

She bites her lip as she looks at him, shifting slightly on top of him, seemingly unsure what to do now.

“Ride my cock, darling. Bounce up and down, in your own pace, do what feels good. Tonight I'm all yours to use, how's that?” he offers with a crooked smirk, and she huffs a nervous little laugh at that. He retrieves his hands and crosses his arms behind his head, letting her take control.

The first thing she does is move her hands up his chest until she's cupping his face. She's breathing harder, the slight change in angle definitely causing her some discomfort, but she endures, leaning in closer, watching him, curiously, very much uncertain, and when he doesn't move, she's almost canceling her plans and retreats, but then he grabs the back of her neck and pulls her the rest of the way, letting their lips collide with a smack.

She gasps into the kiss, but soon remembers her initial intention, her little tongue pressing into his mouth with a hunger he's surprised she could muster. He inhales her little mewls, tastes her, tongue and lips moving against hers, his fingers slipping into her hair before he twists it around his hand and fists it, holding her in place. She's clinging onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and in her attempts to mirror his motions, indulging in her own needs, she starts gyrating her hips.

His groan is swallowed by her tongue moving around his, her eyelids fluttering, and when he bucks his hips upwards a little, the little cry that slips out of her throat is muffled by his mouth. The kiss is messy, her movements on top of him jerky and uncoordinated, but he rolls with it, lets her discover what works, what makes him moan, what feels good for her. To be fair, he could just sit with her like this, feeling the mild vibrations of the toy against his hardened member, while she sits on it, cockwarms him with the gentle embrace of her cute cunt.

He has to teach her the simple joy of just being connected soon, because for now, she doesn't seem to be able to grasp the concept (to be fair, he gave her the command to ride him, so he shouldn't blame her for trying to follow it) as her hips start moving more and more, first back and forth, rubbing her pelvis against his, but soon, while still kissing him deeply, she starts straining her legs, lifting herself slightly, and he moves his free hand along her back to her hip, helping her in pushing her up and down on his cock.

Soon she's panting into his mouth, the unusual workout quickly getting to her. He moves both his hands to her hips, grips at the swell of her flesh and guides her, slowly at first, up and down, her walls clinging to his shaft before her hips slam back down and swallow his entirety once more, his crown definitely bullying her cervix again. He's groaning with her, their heavy breaths mingling when he presses his forehead to hers to ground her, her eyes hooded but burning with an intensity he's not seen in them before.

She picks up the pace, small hands finding his shoulders as she leans back for better leverage, lips glistening and swollen. Her skin is flushed and sweat-slick, as she bounces on his lap, tiny tits jumping, up and down, faster and harder, always taking him as deep as possible. Her eyebrows furrow under the strain, her thighs tremble, her stomach fluttering, her panting breaths turning into whines, needy little mewls, as desperation makes her move rougher and quicker yet.

She's exhausted, sweating, barely able to keep at this pace for long, but she's also too stubborn to give up, having been on the edge for what might feel like forever. Always stimulated, never brought to release. She's chasing that orgasm, pushing herself forward even when her body weakens more and more, and even though he wanted to let her do her thing as he watches her from his reclined position beneath her, with just his hands on her hips, he eventually folds and leans in, wrapping his arms around her shaking body, and starts pushing up into her.

A wail escapes her, and she clings to him, arms snaking around his neck, face pressed to the side of his head, her sweet noises loud in his ear. He presses his feet into the bed for better leverage and pushes hard and fast, and soon her walls clench around him more, a tight grip that threatens to bring him over the edge first, but he braces himself, tenses up, forces through the sensations crashing through him. This is for her.

He shifts them on the bed so he can lie back and pull her with him, arms still tight around her as she presses into him, hips moving with his thrusts, two bodies joined in a wild race for release. She's moaning and howling, shivering and trembling.

Then, finally, her tight cunt clamps down on him hard as she freezes for a moment, a silent gasp making her lips part, her back arching, her hips stuttering, and he keeps rutting into her through her orgasm, moving her back and forth, prolonging the moment of bliss, fighting through the grip of her tense muscles, and she freezes again, this time with a loud cry that turns into a drawn-out moan that makes his cock twitch inside her.

In his haze, he rolls them around, eager to see her face contort in pleasure, but once her back hits the mattress (and with it the backs of her belted thighs), she wails, squeezing her eyes shut which causes tears to fall from under her lashes. His body keeps going, pounding into her hard and rough, making them bounce on the bed, as he braces on his forearms, hands holding her face, soothing her wet cheeks, his eyes on every single twitch she issues.

“It's okay,” he breathes hoarsely. “Almost there, baby. You're doing great, so good for me. My good little girl...”

It's like a mantra, and it works, she relaxes beneath him, small hands gripping at his waist, but she isn't moving, afraid to put too much pressure on her bruises again.

“Wrap your legs around me, it'll be better,” he whispers, and when she does, he feels her really relaxing. Her arms come back around his neck, her eyes fluttering open, mouth agape, heavy breaths hitting his face. “Good girl,” he praises and leans in to kiss her wet forehead. She coos softly in response. “Such a good girl!”

With her body folded around him, clinging to him like a little monkey, he shifts his position to rest on his knees, his thrusts slowing slightly, before he starts hammering down once more. She cries out, stiffens, comes again, and he keeps going, really straining himself now. The tight grip of her cunt, the constant buzzing of the toy, her little noises and the wet squelching and slapping sounds, it all makes his stomach tense and his balls ready to explode.

But she deserves more, so he pushes through, slipping in and out, slows down, accelerates again, a steady rhythm of teasing and pushing her over, bringing her to new heights, letting her float, giving her what she needs. She's a babbling, mewling mess beneath him, and yet he can't get enough of the sight of her eyes rolling back, her face relaxing into a mask of pure bliss, her whole body spasming against his, thighs trembling, legs crossed so tight around him all he can do is push her down into the bed with the remaining strength of his whole body.

They bounce and test the limits of the bed, sweat-slick and sore, exhausted and content, moaning and groaning, and when he finally allows himself to come deep inside of her, it's that final snap of his hips as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and his cock as deep as it will go, his rough breaths hot on her wet skin, his arms cradling her head, his body tense, legs aching as if he's run a marathon, but it's the best goddamn orgasm he's ever had when he eventually collapses on top of the small girl, cock twitching and throbbing, shooting spurt after spurt of hot cum into her convulsing depths.

She's gone silent beneath him, while his heart is hammering inside his ears. He can't move, doesn't want to anyway, just lies heavy on her, and strangely enough she doesn't seem to mind. He feels her fingers moving along his back, fingertips pressing against hard muscles, before she slips them into his hair, and he moans quietly when she starts massaging his scalp. Turning his head, he presses his lips to her neck, savoring the little flutter of her pulse against them.

For a moment they remain like this, silent, motionless, content, his cock still buried deep within her wet warmth, that toy still humming through her insides. With a loud sigh, he eventually rolls them around again, settles her on top of him, a quiet groan escaping her. She's pressed to him, skin against slick skin, a pliant body, her head resting on his shoulder, soft breaths fanning over his jaw. He holds her with one arm, the other moves down her back, savoring the little shudders as his rough fingertips rub over pebbled skin.

His fingers curl around her rear then, slip between her ass cheeks, and he's content to grip the plug and finally relieve her of the constant buzzing, but then she stirs, leans up on her elbow and looks at him, a tiny jerk to her head making him pause.

“You wanna keep it in?” he whispers quietly, watching her curiously.

Her face is flushed, hair sticking to her damp forehead, eyes glazed, lips swollen, but they still twitch into a shy smile. “Mhm,” she makes, cheeks burning up even more.

He smirks at her, tugs at the plug, but only teases her. “Alright then, as you wish,” he replies and leans in to press his lips to her nose. She lets out the softest little giggle, and for a moment he just stares at her before she folds under the intensity of his gaze and hides her warm face in the crook of his neck.

He pulls her tighter against him, hand heavy on her back, the other still on her rear, an amused laugh leaving his throat. She hums into him, and he closes his eyes, relaxing beneath her.

What a little minx, truly insatiable after all. It seems fair to assume that they're back on track, almost as if nothing happened.

They must have fallen asleep after their intense little workout. When he stirs and opens his eyes lazily, she's still lying on top of him, legs splayed open over his thighs, pliant and at ease, cunt still filled with his cock, and somehow he's hard again. Must be the toy she didn't want to part with. Its constant buzzing, straight against his shaft through her soft walls, wave after wave of vibrations, hums all the way into his tense stomach.

He groans when he lifts his hips slightly, moving her just an inch, his hands gently rubbing along her sides until he grips her waist and pushes her deeper onto him. A confused little grumble escapes her, but she doesn't wake, her steady breaths fanning over his neck. He could just fuck up into her again, pumping his pelvis into her, until he adds another load of cum to the previous one, but he's not made for monotony.

And frankly, he can't and doesn't want to shed his skin and change his way, even though she's trying her best to mold him into something he doesn't want to be. Carefully, his hands on her lower back, he rolls her onto her side and scoots back, pulling out of her as gentle as possible. She lets out a little whine, but is still fast asleep, too exhausted or just unwilling to deal with whatever he has planned next.

He keeps her on her side, her legs scissoring open a little, allowing thick globs of cum to seep from her puffy pussy lips. The sight makes his cock throb even more, and he could have watched it a little longer, but the tension in his stomach urges him to keep going, and so he slips from beneath her fully, and kneels down at the foot of the bed, taking another moment to watch the sleeping girl, with her messy hair, her soft skin, stained and soiled by his doing.

Eventually he grabs her hips and pulls her back, lifts her rear up, mindful to keep her head turned to the side so she can breathe. She's like a doll, and he almost comes just watching her be molded into the position he wants her in. Ignoring the red welts for now, he scoots closer, his hands on her rear, kneading those soft plump cheeks, before his fingers dip between them and close around the base of the plug.

She stirs again, mumbling in her sleep, but he keeps going, gently tugging at the toy until her muscles give way to let the first bump out. Then the next and the next, until all five little ball shaped protrusions slip free and he removes the vibrating thing completely. Her hole gapes for a moment before her muscles pucker up again. He leaves the vibrator on the bed, too lazy to get his phone to turn it off.

She's still asleep when he sits up and rubs his cockhead between her cheeks down to her dripping cunt. Gathering his last spend, dipping into her used hole just for good measure, he uses the thumb of his free hand to poke at her sphincter, rubbing the tense muscles. The plug was a good preparation, but not nearly as girthy as his hard member, so the stretch may still be noticeable. But she's taken him before, with barely any preparation at all, so she'll be fine.

He dips his finger into her pulsing pussy, gathering her slick and his cum, then puts the same finger into her puckered hole, pushing deep, feeling the tense muscles and the shiver crashing through her small body. His cock is already leaking precum when he finally puts the tip against her, one hand on her hip to steady her, his eyes moving up to her resting face.

He keeps watching her as he pushes forward, slowly, carefully, letting her muscles give way gradually until they close around his tip and swallow it, and as they do, she whimpers, eyebrows furrowing. Instead of pushing his hips against her, he pulls her against him, his hold firm, and inch by inch he sinks deeper into her tight ass, the grip already enough to make his cock twitch, a groan slipping from his lips.

Eventually he bottoms out, her tense muscles fighting the intruder, her limbs trembling. Both of his hands are on her waist now, holding her against him, close enough he can feel the warm skin of her bruised thighs against his, but the pain of the touch doesn't seem to register in her sleeping mind. Not yet anyways.

Breathing deeply, he fights the sensations, the urge to just rut into her like a feral dog and breed her, find relief inside her until she's dripping from both holes, and the image of that is strong enough to make him moan, his arms shaking as he grips her tighter.

He has to remind himself why she's here, why he took her away. To use her, whenever he wants, she is his, his little angel, his toy, his good girl, the same girl who asked him to take her virginity, who asked him to order her to submit because she couldn't make any decisions on her own anymore. And she wants this, she may fight it still, but she wants this, prefers his cock over any toy he'll stuff her with, so why not give her what she wants?

The first thrust is rough, tense muscles protesting, skin dragging over his shaft as he pulls back and slams in again. And she whines, a low little hum in the air, even though she remains still, caught in her sleep, dealing with what he did – and does – to her on another, deeper level of her consciousness. Holding her hips, he thrusts again, and again, until he falls into a slow rhythm of pulling and pushing, her tight grip dragging over his cock with every motion, making his head spin.

He's working himself up gradually, always watching her and her reactions, as he pulls out slowly, savoring the drag, the clenching ring of muscles holding onto his tip, squeezing so deliciously, before he slips back in with a snap of his hips, fast, hard and deep until his balls slam into her wet folds. He can barely hear her soft mumbles over his loud groans, he's not holding back, he can't, the need for release growing with every slap of his pelvis against her cushioned rear.

Shifting behind her, pulling her back to the edge of the bed, so he can put one leg on it and the other on the ground to have better leverage, he quickly falls into a different rhythm, a quick stabbing, in and out, rough little snaps of his hips, even rougher pulls on her hips to move her against him, and it's during this rutting, that she wakes up with a surprised little growl.

He puts one arm around her middle and leans over her, the other hand on her nape to push her down into the bed, and she whines and wails, her arms flailing around helplessly before he grabs them and folds them behind her back, then uses them with a tight grip to really pound into her now.

Her noises fuel him, her moans and mewls and cries of protest sinking into his sweat-slick skin, gathering in his stomach, vibrating right into his cock that keeps slamming into her hard and rough, forcing its way through her tense muscles. She arches her back and bucks her hips, to meet his thrusts or to get away he isn't sure, but ultimately succumbs to his rapid rhythm.

Despite his haze, he notices the still buzzing toy lying next to her leg, and he grabs it, holding her folded arms with one large hand now, and without hesitation, bends his arm around her and presses the vibrator to her clit. She cries out again, louder now, head thrashing, shoulders turning fruitlessly in his tight grip, feet kicking, but he keeps his leg tugged against her knees to keep her from folding in on herself, and the other on the ground to steady himself, ignoring the flying of her limbs.

He's so close, and he knows she is too with how he holds the buzzing toy to her throbbing clit. Her wetness seeps out of her clenching cunt, empty and abandoned, right onto his fingers, as he continues his ruthless assault on her ass with deep, hard thrusts that make her muscles clench and ultimately milk his cock for all it's worth.

When she cries out and shudders, he groans and collapses against her rear, barely able to stay upright, as he pushes as deep as possible and stills there, his balls twitching against her folds as he empties himself into her warm depths. She's whimpering quietly, body frozen in front of him, all protest gone from her limbs. He eases the hold of her arms and starts rubbing her lower back as her arms fall to her sides, boneless.

He's panting, still spasming inside her, and he's just marveling about the amount of cum he's able to give her, when he feels her small hand on his larger one still holding the toy to her clit. She's not trying to rip it away, but gently nudges him, eases his grip until he complies and lowers the object, and in his own euphoria he hasn't noticed how its vibrations have numbed his hand.

Inhaling deeply, he pulls it away and places it on her lower back, her rear still pushed out to create a little shelf for it to lie on. His free hand roams her sides for a moment until he feels his cock deflating inside her, finally spent, satisfied, at least for now. Slowly he moves his hips back and slips out of her, leaving her with a wet pop. The sight of his cum dripping from her puckering hole gives him goosebumps, mesmerizes him, makes him stand back and watch it run down her skin until it gathers on her pussy lips, mixing with the load he's left inside her hungry cunt earlier.

All the while she's frozen in place, still on the bed, ass raised, knees shaking but holding her up, chest pressed down, head turned to the side, eyes closed, lips parted, drool and sweat gathering beneath her. As if in a trance, he grabs the toy and circles her gaping hole with it, teases the slim tip into it, pushes his cum back inside. He keeps playing with it for a moment, watches how her muscles tense under the vibrations, while his body comes down from the high and exertion, and she lets him, doesn't fuss.

“I bet my good little girl wants it back where it belongs, hm?” he whispers, noticing her eyelids fluttering before she looks at him out of the corner of her eye. He doesn't wait for her reply, just pushes the toy fully in, the soft squelching sound mixed with her surprised gasp pebbling his skin, her muscles lax for the first half of it before the ball shaped bumps grow bigger and he has to give the last one a little push before the toy settles back into place, gripped tightly by her puckering hole.

He still gives her soft ass cheek a gentle slap, and another, to tighten it even more. She yelps quietly, body shuddering every time his hand makes contact with her skin, but he's barely making any difference, even if he wants to really spank her until he can see his hand imprint, bright red and glowing, but he refrains. Not the right time. Soon, he promises himself.

Rubbing his hands over her rear, tugging at the plug to make sure it's secure, he then leans back up fully and stretches, rolling his shoulders, then walks around the bed and grabs his phone, turning off the vibrations. Its battery is dwindling anyways, and she may need a break as well. He's sure it's enough to just have that thing sitting in her ass again.

She rolls onto her side and faces him, hugging the sheets to her chest. He sits down on the edge of the bed and caresses her messy hair, a soft smile playing around the corners of his lips. His fingers trail around the side of her face until he teases his index finger against her lips. As if on cue, she parts them and sucks his fingertip into her mouth. He adds another finger, and she does the same motion, her little tongue flicking around his digits almost needily, meditatively, as if she needs them to ground herself.

Like a child sucking on its own thumb.

He can see the appeal, and he lets her, watching her closely, fondly, his other hand braced on the bed. Rubbing her tongue with his index and middle finger while she sucks on them, he eventually feels the somewhat sadistic urge to push his fingertips deeper, tease against the back of her throat, and while he holds her gaze, her eyes widen, and he keeps pushing until she squirms, grabs his wrist, but then gags anyway, her throat contracting around his digits.

He pulls them away, only to push back in, slowly, always a little further, in and out. Her nails dig into his wrist, her body shuddering, but she doesn't really fight it, just lets him fuck her face with his fingers, her tongue guiding the movement, her cheeks hollowing when she sucks her spit in. He lets her swallow before making her gag again, and again, and again, until she's a spluttering mess, drool dripping down her chin.

What a pretty sight. Eventually he pulls his hand away, wipes her spit on her cheek before slipping his fingers into her hair, cupping her head to pull her into a sitting position. She winces when she has to strain her thighs, but he swallows the little whine when he captures her wet lips for a deep kiss. She clings to him, moving her tongue with his, eyes fluttering close when she leans into the touch.

Still connected to her mouth, he moves his hands around her body and lifts her up, scoops her into his arms. She's that pliant thing, fucked out of her mind, holes filled, throat included (though he'd have preferred to stuff it with his cock and cum instead of his fingers, but there'll be time for that again soon), dripping, sweating, slick all over, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Somehow it does. He'll make sure of it.

He is the only thing she'll ever have to worry about.

Kissing her slower now, watching her out of hooded eyes, a strange warmth rushes through him, fills his exhausted limbs, makes his cock throb. She is his, all his, no matter what. He's shown her his darker side, and she's still here, cuddled against him, eager to be with him, please him, service him.

Keep him company. He's never seen it like that, then again she is the first one to witness him in all aspects of life. They've shared meals, showered together, slept in the same bed, things he's done with women before, but it has never felt like this, this... domestic, this real, this... unforced.

He took her away, abused her, but whatever he does, to him it doesn't feel like force. He's fought way worse with the ones that came before her, had to mold them, make them understand what he wants from them, but she... his perfect little girl, she already knew, despite her inexperience, despite her fear, she's adjusted, listened to him, followed his orders without much hesitation. Perfectly submissive, no matter what.

He stops on the way to the bathroom, holding her pressed against his chest, his lips hovering close to hers, breaths mingling. “I'm proud of you, you know that?” he whispers with a soft smile, watching her blush and blink quickly in surprise. “Really, really proud,” he repeats, peppering her cheek with gentle kisses that make her squirm and giggle softly.

“Look at you,” he adds, nuzzling her nose with his. “So beautiful, so perfect, taking me so well, doing everything I ask of you. You...” He stops as the thought manifests inside his head, a thought he's not had for a long time, if ever. But it feels true, real. “You make me very happy,” he finally voices the words, inhaling deeply, leaning his forehead against hers.

A sniffle escapes her, and he feels her arms tightening around his neck. She doesn't say anything, just looks at him with big eyes, glistening and still reddened, lips parted and quivering. He gives her a soft smile, not expecting a response, and tilts his head to close his lips around hers, swallowing any kind of noise she wanted to make. It doesn't matter what she thinks about him, or maybe he doesn't want to hear it. She's had a crush on him, but she has a lot more reasons to hate him now, and whatever the case, he doesn't want to know.

It's enough to know that she remains his good little girl, that she knows how that makes him feel, and maybe that's enough incentive to give her the strength to stay this way, that no matter what he does to her, she will endure it, because she wants to, for his sake, or maybe, preferably, to satisfy her own needs as well. Time will tell.

For now, he's focusing back on the moment, savoring the taste and feel of her tongue, her little mewls in his ears as he shifts her on his arms, before he continues on the short way to the bathroom. His intent is always to clean her up, keep her pure, at least from the outside, but he already knows he can't control himself around her. His cock knows it too as it twitches excitedly when he carries her into the shower.

FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN 🟥 SIXTEEN

End notes: I think this is as fluffy as he can get, don't expect anything more for now.

To be honest, I'm a little torn on this. It's been a very harsh up and down with him and the things he's said and done, but he is the unpredictable type, so it shouldn't be too unexpected? It feels extreme, going from “I don't need a reason to hurt you” to “you make me really happy”, from her being “his toy” to “his good little girl”. But maybe that's his charm, the polar opposites. He is a psychotic man, we already established that, and now we've deepened that sentiment. He can and will do whatever he wants.

You know, I started writing this story with only the smut in mind, but the plot, man the plot, it just happened, and now I struggle a little with its plausibility (then again: do we really need this to be plausible? At the end of the day it's entertainment, spicy smut to fall asleep to, so, yeah, let's just roll with it).

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

[petalsscribbles]

1. negotiations

Yn can't help but note just how big and prestigious Jay's workplace looks as he stands in front of it. One can only guess just how many floors it has. Either way its overwhelming appearance does not help ease that strange almost foreboding feeling in his chest. He sighs and braces himself as he enters.

The receptionist is dressed as everyone would expect. Grey pencil skirt reaching just below her knees and a jacket to match. Rectangular glasses sit on her pointy nose as she types away with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Hi, I'm Yn. I'm here to see Mr. Park." He says taming his shaking voice.

"Ah welcome!" She says with a practiced warm tone and a perfect smile. "I'll let you through. Mr. Park's office is on the 20th floor."

"Thank you." He answers and she bows her head slightly. Just as instructed, Yn passes the terminals and makes his way towards the elevators, pressing the right button once he's in. The ride is torturously long, or at least it feels like it. He can't help but wonder how much has Jay changed since he last saw him. He, Wonyoung and Yn used to hang out as kids, until Jay moved to America for his studies at 13 and he hasn't seen him since. Well, until now, but Yn figures they'll have plenty of time to catch up once they're married.

The walk from the elevator to Jay's office is short and a secretary with another practiced smile lets him in.

Jay's office is spacious, to say the least, perhaps way too big for a single person to work in.

"Yn, I'm glad you could make it." Jay says, getting up from his desk and walking over to his future husband. Yn can only let out a quiet hi.

Face wise he hasn't changed all that much, still very much the boy he knew. Body is a whole another story though. He towers over Yn and the suit he's wearing highlights his athletic figure.

Jay puts his hand on Yn's back and leads him to the chair infront of his desk, taking his place on the opposite side once Yn is comfortably seated.

"Thank you for making time for me." He starts "You must have been surprised."

"A little but it's okay." Yn admits.

"Okay, let's get to work. When it comes to engagement, I plan to propose to you on my grandfather's birthday party. There will be a lot of cameras already so it's convenient."

Convenient.

Yeah, that's what this is. That's what they are. Convenient.

"Now for the marriage itself. Do you want to move in with me, or should we get a new apartment?"

"A new one." Yn answers. Jay nods.

"Should we sleep in one bed or do you want a room on your own?"

"Let's share, in case someone visits."

"What about chores and cooking? Do you want me to hire someone or should we split?"

"I think we can manage our own apartment."

"I agree. We're not toddlers." Jay says and Yn chuckles slightly. "This is just my idea but, I think we should do skinship at home, so it doesn't seem forced when we're in public."

"Yeah, okay. We can do that." yn answers quickly, trying to hide his initial surprise.

"Are you fine with pet names?" Jay adds.

"Yeah, as long as it's nothing too cringy."

"Okay. Anything you'd like to add?"

Yn thinks for a second. There is a big part of marriage that they have not covered yet.

Intimacy.

"Are you going to find a mistress?"

"What?!" He exclaims, losing his composure as his eyes widen. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I mean, I assume you probably won't have sex with me so..." Yn trails off. One of the most shocking parts of this whole ordeal is why Jay would marry a man.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asks after taking control of his voice again.

"Aren't you straight?"

"No I'm bisexual."

"Oh." He suddenly feels incredibly dumb. He went to college for Christ's sake of course he could make some discoveries about himself.

"Yn, I won't force you to have sex with me but if either of us had a lover and got caught by press we'd either have to: be branded as a cheater, admit that this is fake or try to convince everyone we have an open marriage. I don't think I have to explain to you why none of those options are good for us."

"Right, right."

"Well if that's all I won't waste any more of your time. But don't forget we can always make adjustments." Jay reminds. Yn just nods and gives him a small smile.

"I'll see you at the party."

a/n: updates probably won't be as frequent as it was with Bad Habits but I'll try my best not to give up on you my pookies

taglist CLOSED

@starchasing-cryptid @onementally-unstabel-kid @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @gnusihcom @silkentides @monstaxpuppy @bubblztaro @lavanderxamour @zzzavid

prev masterlist next

[alexas-fandom-and-random-blog]

Well it's late night for me and helluva Boss Mastermind episode just dropped and I'm kinda in the mood to do a live reaction to text of first and honest impressions thingie. So let's go!!

------

Awww. Loona hesitating to burn their first job pic was precious❤️

Holy shit okay Satan's design is the first Sin I actually legit adore! Freaking amazing!😳

Can the the rip-off-Elsa brother (won't bother remembering the name) PLEASE stop calling Stella hot? Neither funny, nor character driven just really freaking creepy! Stop!

Vasago first impression. Uuuh okay? Is the gimmick he's simply gonna talk to another language.

STRIKER JUMPSCARE!!!!

Hiiii baby!! Looking good in that suit! Daaaamn! Good to see ya!~🥴

Warning up to the new VA each episode ngl. Doing a sexy job with it😚

I can't decide if I love or hate the "LINE?" joke... Could work as him not giving a fuck to spell the "fancy" word I guess😆 but mostly it makes him look kinda stupid so yeah... not a fan.

Whatever, moving on!

Tone down Moxxie pulling uwu and crying faces please? Just a bit. It's too much is all I'm saying. He's baby but like it's not endearing if you do it constantly 😢

Animation is so gorgeous tho as always. How rip-off-Elsa moves and uses his power is so smooth!

So Striker just made a guest appearance and fucked off with a wicked smile. I can't!😆

I mean good for him for getting that immunity deal but not even a tiny bit of verbal interaction with I.M.P? Moxxie? Anything? No?? You're killing me man. I am robbed and inconsolable 😭

The Sins interactions are mostly annoying but lmao at Mammon's clown noises bahahahah! Love it!

Uuuh Satan's voice might be doing things to me👉👈

Goddamn his design is amazing too!

Fizz!!! He's trying! Bless his heart he cares about his friend a lot imma cry!

Oh wow! Kudos to Blitzo for giving that speech. Dare we see social commentary that actually hits? And he's using it to save his family? Respect!

The guards are threatening af! I love how creepily slow they move and how that one touched Blitzo after the execution announcement was so foreboding. Really good way to convey the imminent danger. Niiice!

Muzzle on Loona just showing how little she's allowed to be. Even lower than the imps basically. This is sad.

Stolas to the rescue! Ye- Song? OhmyGod🤦 nah man just... okay whatever I'm skipping it, it feels really awkward to have in this situation.

Skip skip skip

Okay no back up back up. Satan singing???

That's-

....

No still don't care about it, too awkward sorry.

Skip skip skip

"This is a sturdy door"

Frick that caught me off guard! 🤣🤣🤣

Oh my god noooo. Via making that sound while crying broke my heart!!! Poor Baby bird!😢

Yeah see having Stella be non abusive and manipulative with her is an amazing idea and I love it but goddamn it, it doesn't work if you present her as absolutely brain-dead and obvious about everything the rest of the time!!!!

...well that was embarrassing 😂

Actually felt more bad about Stolas assuming he'd be sacrificed than the sacrifice itself.

Heroic I know but holy shit 🤣

Really love Satan's entire schtick. Very much a fan! The guy is so entertaining to watch!

Vasago really didn't do much in the end besides fanboy over Stolas did he?😆

"For the next 100 years"

Bahahahahahahahah!!! Get fucked rip-off-Elsa lmaoo!!! That bit was gold!!

And Stolas is common folk now. Okay I guess. I'm very neutral about that.🤷

Ohooo?? Blitzo actually getting support from this whole ordeal?? Oh kudos! Great direction! Very much support it!

More of soft Loona yes!!🥺❤️

(and I'll be willing to pretend the kicking his balls awful nonsense never happened 🙄)

Ah the last scene with Stolas? That was actually so very soft and sweet. Beautiful quiet moment to close off to

----

And that was it🫠

Whelp I didn't think I'd have this many reactions watching the episode.

Overall not bad. I'm going to bed now tho I'm tired🥱

Oh And in conclusion:

Bring Striker back soon!!!!🙏

Goodnight!

[youkaiyume]

Hello, it's been a while since I did a rant. But WARNING for gross medical things:

SO it turns out my old nemesis the ovarian cysts have plagued me again. I found out about three weeks ago when a weird pain wouldn't leave my pelvis and went to urgent care and they suggested a CT scan. ONLY! for my insurance to deny me cuz they think I needed more probable cause for one so my doctor just recommended I go to the ER (which ironically is way more expensive for insurance to pay for than a simple CT scan but they did it to themselves lol).

Turns out I have cysts on BOTH of my ovaries FUN. But the left one is very concerningly big and probably needs to be removed but I can only do so by getting an approval of an OBGYN. So after finding one and waiting for my blood tests to come back so she can determine if she can surgically remove it--

YESTERDAY I had a SUDDEN AND SEVERE pain that hit me. I was at a solid 10 on that pain scale and vomiting and sweating so I drove myself to the ER again for the second time in two weeks. Frustratingly, the MALE doctor came back and was just like "well it looks like while we were doing your ultrasound you weren't consistently experiencing pain" which I was ready to bite his head off because let me tell you. While I was laying stretched out letting them do the ultrasound I was in the worst pain the ENTIRE time. And it was not a short ultrasound. It lasted over 20 mins and even after they asked me if I could survive sitting through the vaginal ultrasound after which would be another 25 mins. And those are painful just for the stick poking around in your yoohoo alone. I begged for pain relievers and when I described it they were like "oh that's labor level pains"

SO Mr. I don't have a Uterus doctor, DON'T TELL ME that your machine says I wasn't in pain. He even hit me with a "well I don't know what your pain tolerance is" as if to minimize or make me feel like I was overblowing what I was feeling. Like, fuck that guy. But because technically the imaging showed that the cysts haven't ruptured or caused my ovaries to twist it was considered "non emergent" and so the just gave me painkillers and then sent me home and reiterated that the only way I could get it removed at this point was to beg my OBGYN and convince her it was an emergency. In the meantime it was "oh you'll have to live with LABOR LIKE PAINS 24/7 until they let you have surgery." In the meantime they said I should only return to the ER after I've took all my pain meds and my pain doesn't improve OR if something worse happens. like a rupture.

WHICH btw are the exact same symptoms I have today so I was like how will I know cuz I can't imagine a worse pain than this one to which they were like "shrug"

I was in tears. Oh but it gets EVEN BETTER. Called my OBGYN this morning and she said my blood tests came back and that unfortunately they detected higher than usual levels of cancer markers in the cyst so that means she can't surgically remove them for me, she has to foist me to an Oncologist so THEY can remove it. She tries to say it doesn't necessarily MEAN cancer but hnnnnnggg that does not help with my anxiety at the moment.

Now calling the Oncologist to make an appointment today was a whole ordeal itself cuz their system kept going to voicemail so I had to call all the departments until they finally let me through but I had to run back to the hospital to try to get my Ultrasound discs for them. But even then they were like "your appointment isn't until next Wednesday" because THATS when the doctor meanders into work. So I'm like OH so like, in the meantime what if something happens??? And they're like well you gotta call back your OBGYN to see if you have other options. Which turns out she is also out. Until Tuesday. So I'm like. Guess I'll die then!

I don't even want kids!!! These ovaries have caused me nothing but trouble!!! Please rip them from my body!!

[whim-prone-pirate]

The Moment Each Disruptor Realized Benoit Blanc Was Gay As Hell: A Masterpost

I wasn't kidding when I said I'd do it.

In chronological order...

HELEN

Though Helen isn't technically considered a Disruptor by the rest of the group, I personally believe she's the only real Disruptor among them. That's a different post. Obviously, Helen realized first, as she met Phillip before she met Benoit. I think she assumed at first she had been greeted by some sort of housemaid because Phillip was wearing an apron—Then she saw the sourdough starter. That sold it. She saw Benoit in his stupid little robe and was like Oh fucking of course.

LIONEL

Lionel was obviously studying Benoit on the dock before the Disruptors and Benoit boarded the boat. While Lionel doesn't have the greatest gaydar in the world, as in, he's not looking for it upon meeting most people, he was looking to pick up on anything upon meeting Benoit. Here's this strange dude that none of us know and didn't expect to be here, what's his deal? As Lionel is trying to pick up something from Benoit, Claire starts fangirling over Benoit's previous case about the ballet dancer and Benoit says, "I'm obviously familiar with you all as well—Governor, Dr. Toussaint... Miss Birdie Jay." The way he talks to Birdie and says her name... Lionel understood. Unfortunately, Birdie did not. At all.

PEG

Also not a Disruptor but she's so important to me. Peg is a lesbian. She clocked Benoit as soon as she saw his outfit and heard his accent, but she was absolutely sure of it when she saw how he reacted to the anti-covid throat spray.

MILES

Miles' moment was difficult for me to pin down, mostly because he's fucking stupid and there is certainly a chance that he never realized at all. But, for the sake of the post, let's say that Miles noticed something was different about Benoit when he pulled him aside into the Glass Onion to ask why Benoit was there. When Miles said, "Someone reset the box. They sent it to you as a gag," and Benoit was so shocked that he raised his hand to his chest like a southern woman clutching her pearls... Miles still didn't get it, he was so caught up in his upset. But, after the ordeal in the Glass Onion, off-screen and on his own time, Miles thought about the interaction again, specifically that exact moment that I mentioned, and had the realization. Miles is so full of himself that he thought he was a genius for realizing.

WHISKEY

Whiskey saw him wearing a matching top-and-bottom bathing suit and a little scarf thing in a pool and absolutely understood. She didn't care at all, but she understood. Benoit was also the only one to have an open glass while walking (WALKING) through the pool. While I can't say for certain, it looks like the drink itself is just iced water with a lime. I think Benoit is one of the only people there who isn't drinking alcohol at the pool. That's not very important but I think it just adds to his whole ensemble.

BIRDIE

Of course, Birdie was one of the last to realize, or at least get a little hint of it. She had been hitting on Benoit since the first time she spoke to him at the dock. But, the moment that he said, "I'm going to embarrass myself here; I adore Sweetie Pants. I live in mine," she never made a move on him again. I think, based on the name, Sweetie Pants is a feminine clothing line and Birdie likely intended for women to wear the pants. After Benoit admits to not only wearing them, but loving them, she finally backs off. Immediately after Benoit says that, Miles begins talking about Birdie's career, and Birdie kinda smirks and bumps her eyebrows while gesturing towards Benoit. This could be taken to be her reaction to Miles' praise of her, but given Birdie's character and the context in which Miles is talking about this, I think it makes more sense for this to be Birdie's reaction to Benoit being very obviously gay. She gestures to him, like, "Oh my God, he wears Sweetie Pants, that's so gay. Benoit is gay, guys, do you see what I'm seeing?" Yes, Birdie. They do see it. You were the last one to see it.

CLAIRE

Claire was hard for me to define as well. She was so caught up in Klear and the aftermath of Andi's trial leading up to Duke's murder that I really don't think she was paying enough attention to Benoit to actually get it. I honestly believe that the first time she ever thought about Benoit as a person instead of as a detective that she thinks is really cool is when she was drunk in the minutes leading up to Duke's death. She didn't talk much because Miles was making his speech and dancing with Birdie, so I think she was looking around the room, landed on Benoit, and was too buzzed to really think about it too hard, so she had the very fleeting, yet eloquent thought of, "He's... gay. Yeah." She always kinda knew in the back of her mind, ever since the dock, but never got the chance to think about it.

DUKE

Duke never realized. I think he was on the cusp of getting it every time he was in an area with Benoit since the pool scene, but he's so alt-right that he thought in his head, "Haha! Benoit's kinda weird. That's so gay," because we all know he uses gay as a playful insult, but he never actually considered it a possibility. Then he died. Womp womp.

This is the most important post I've ever made. I appreciate the three people who asked me to make it.

(inspired by @mylasttwobraincellsandi and their post about the sweetie pants scene)

[dross-the-fish]

I found myself thinking of Jekyll today and wondering if it causes him physical pain to have to fake a smile. To what extent is Henry Jekyll, pleasant doctor and sophisticated upperclass gentleman a painful mask he has to wear and does the discomfort ever feel physical?

I was at the local aquarium today (this is the perfect time of year to go because it's open but there are no tourists so it's never crowded and admission is cheap) hanging out and doodling on one of the benches while I watched the fish. I had on headphones to listen to an audio book and to provide a buffer between myself and anyone who might try to talk to me and I had been looking forward to relaxing for a couple of hours when a family walked up and the father waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention. The minute they started asking me questions about what I was drawing I was filled with what I can only describe as intense dismay.

Obviously the family being present isn't in of itself an issue, it's a public aquarium, it's aimed at families and parts of the aquarium are geared specifically at children, but the family noticed me drawing and stopped to talk to me.

I reiterate that this was not something they did wrong, they were just being friendly, but I was really not prepared to have a conversation and I found the whole ordeal to be...well an ordeal. They were interested in what I was drawing (a sketch of Henry Jekyll because he's been on my mind off and on) and just the thought of having to explain who this character was, hoping they got it, and having to potentially explain why I was drawing him felt overwhelming.

And it was, they did not know who Henry Jekyll was, they were vaguely aware of Jekyll and Hyde but weren't the type of people to read classic literature and had never heard of the musical or actually seen for themselves any movies featuring the character. The mom commented that he looks like "a Disney villain from back in the 90s" which...fair assessment, I can't pretend I don't see why she would have thought that. The older kid was probably the most interested and wanted to see more of my drawings which made me really uncomfortable but I let him look through my sketchbook anyway because his parents kept saying he was interested in drawing and he loves art and I felt too anxious to say no.

I made small talk with the parents for a while, all the usual, "what's your name, where you from, what's your job?" (I hate those questions, they are usually the least interesting things about any people, myself included) and I wondered if this is what Henry does on a regular day. Has ordinary conversations with reasonably nice people and feel completely like a fish out of water the whole time. I felt pretty terrible about it too, I didn't have any hard feelings or resentment but the whole time I was thinking "Stop touching my things, go away, please fucking leave so I can get back to my audio book and my drawing. I just wanted to sit with the fish for a few hours because it's supposed to be quiet here this time of year."

No one ever seems to catch on that physically talking to people is an effort for me. I've gone my whole life and no one has ever noticed that I'm anxious or uncomfortable in situations where I have to speak out loud because I've gotten good at faking small talk and I know how to make my voice sound pleasant.

It's strange because I express myself easily enough in writing and I like messaging with people over text but the minute I have to be verbal with people I don't know I feel like I'm putting on an immense effort. I have to consciously choose a tone, figure out what words I want to say, be ready with an explanation in case I'm asked questions and I have to do all of it in real time on the spot. It feels like improve, like I'm constantly doing an improve routine and I know most people would say "Just be yourself!" But myself doesn't want to be doing this at all. Myself wants to be drawing and looking at fish. Even as a child I was never very social, I liked to doodle or daydream or build with my lego sets. I got reprimanded a lot for being too quiet. So I made myself more talkative and learned how to hold conversations. I learned to blend in but it's so tiring at times and I can swear when it's at its worst it feels almost physical. The discomfort becomes a suffocating "texture" on my skin and in my brain and I have to keep pretending like I don't notice it because every time I try to articulate how I feel people don't understand it. It's just not a thing they experience.

So I just keep "acting normal," and wonder if there's something wrong with me, like I'm operating on a different frequency from the people around me and I'm the only one on that frequency so other people don't even know it exists. It's...incredibly isolating at times. Even my partner doesn't seem to hear the world as loud as I do or experience the "texture" it's just a strange THING that I'm stuck with by myself. I wonder if it was the same for Henry Jekyll? Except instead being of too quiet he was too loud, too boisterous, threw tantrums, didn't know when to stop rambling about anatomy and weird gross medical facts. So he learned how to cover it and move through life pretending to be interested in everyone else but keenly aware they could never share his interests because his favorite subjects were too grisly and if he started talking about diseases he'd put everyone off. I head-canon Jekyll loves what he does, but he doesn't love it for reasons a doctor should, he doesn't care that much about healing the sick, he cares about conquering illnesses, he likes to learn about symptoms, he enjoys the disgusting viscera of his work. But he can't let on that this is what he enjoys about his work because that's not noble or heroic, it's something most people would find creepy of him. So he buries it and pretends he cares about curing the sick. He pretends he enjoys talking to people who don't know anything about who he is or what he does but they think they do because they are aware of doctors and understand that medicine exists. All the time he loathes it, it exhausts him and he can't even indulge in activities he enjoys to blow of steam because he enjoys things like brawling, doing drugs, and fucking. All things a man of his status shouldn't be seen doing. There's an image people associate with Henry Jekyll and it's an image he can't afford to tarnish...

but it's not really HIS image, it's just a buffer he keeps up to make himself more palatable. I wonder if that ever hurts him physically, if the mask ever feels like a "texture" muffling him.

there are times when I feel like it's no wonder he wasn't repulsed by Hyde when he first saw his reflection. Because I can only imagine by the time Hyde showed up he was already completely burnt out on being Jekyll.

[whohasfourthumbsand]

< Hi, I’m Hachiko. I know we haven’t met, but I saw your posts about HOWL and her new body. I don’t know HOWL, so I’m not sure I can help, but I’m also a military NHP with a canine self-representation. Since that’s an almost unbelievably specific set of things to have in common with her, I sort of feel like I should throw my hat in the ring. 

First, canine subaltern? Wow. Jealous. I’d be losing my shit, too. You absolutely made HOWL happy. I’m canine in terms of virtual representation, and having access to a physical body which matched up with that would be awesome. 

Actually, uh, I…not to get emotional, that’s just really, really sweet of you to do that for her. 

My advice? If you can, give HOWL an open field and let her do her thing for as long as you can. I know that might not be practical if you’re aboard a ship, station, or other confined environment, but that might be part of the fix. I’d want to climb, run, test the physical limitations of the chassis. There’s a certain satisfaction involved when one of us gets to interact with actual physics as opposed to a computer simulation. Imperfections, unanticipated feedback, inability to just receive total environmental awareness on command—it’s a richer experience. More fun.

And, speaking as a military NHP—the part about conveying that she isn’t expected to fight at the moment might end up being a matter of time and ensuring that she doesn’t perceive anything in the environment as a threat. I know that’s not exactly a simple task, but it’s the best I can think of. Some of us need to partition off our dominant personalities, either partially or totally, when we’re deployed in an active combat role. It’s like choosing to become someone else for a while, then choosing to go back to being yourself once it’s safe to do so. The memories are compartmentalized when you come back, kind of a mental insulation. But, given that her shackles are non-standard in design, that kind of partitioning might not be available to her.  I don’t know what her past looks like, but it could be a holdover from previous deployments.

Another thing, does HOWL speak? Not all of us care for linguistic communication, so that might be a barrier. Words do have their limits, after all. If it isn’t too personal a question: how did her pilot communicate with her?

Hopefully this is helpful, and you don’t get chewed up much more. You clearly care a great deal about her. >

(ooc: hey! Not to get too heavy with this, sorry, but this resonated with the character a bit.)

+ Hello, Hachiko!

+ Consider me grateful that we've met when we have, and thankful that you reached out. I've felt incredibly alone throughout this whole ordeal, and to have someone tell me that I'm doing right by HOWL- it means a lot. Really. I doubt that I would find better insight than yours, the similarities between you and HOWL are a pleasant surprise; I'm not sure if this offer means much, but, if you're jealous of the subaltern design, I could scan and upload the printer files for you. I based the chassis itself on an old model donated to me by ACS, then adapted features from frames such as the Metalmark and Enkidu, and an array of visual data regarding Cradle's dogs. Though I'm still working out some kinks, such as the movement of the spine when transitioning between a trot and all-out sprinting, the synthetic musculature may be my best work yet; I imagine it would be a liberating body to inhabit.

+ That brings me to the subject of your advice; Following what you suggested, I took HOWL to Detachment 148's primary hangar— the largest open space on our station— and let her loose. She ran like I've never seen before, stretching, rolling, bounding off of surfaces, climbing onto others. HOWL doesn't generally emote— it's not something she's really capable of, besides the more overt or "instinctual" responses to things like threats— but, I don't know, she seemed... happy. Happier, at least.

+ After that, the aggression stopped entirely. In fact, she's begun to follow me wherever I go, as though curious about the station, or as though she was guarding me? I think it's both. When I leave a room, she bounds or trots after me, silent yet animated. When I stop to work, eat, etcetera, she just... paces. Nonstop pacing, restless, and though I can't read her expression— or lack thereof— I think she's waiting for something.

+ HOWL can verbalize. She's actually incredibly articulate, she speaks a bit like a philosopher when she's comfortable. Big words, thoughtful, introspective dialogue. Some of the conversations she and Kennedy— her old handler— would have would go completely over my head. Now, however, she refuses to speak to me. I don't think she's comfortable enough. I think there's a lot she has left to figure out.

+ In fact— I don't think that she knows that- that Kennedy isn't coming back.

[rrhodes25]

So I've been thinking about God Games, specifically how each god presents their own argument/interest in the discussion, I think it is genuinely an excellent piece of characterization in such a short amount of time.

Zeus- Zeus is the epitome of pride in all of God Games. He doesn't take the request seriously(at first) and when he does, it is only because the other gods have formed something resembling a united front in disagreement with him. That's really all Zeus cares about- ensuring his position is not threatened, because he loves where he is and believes that anyone with half a mind would be constantly after his power and throne.

Athena- Across the entire song she is trying so so SO hard to be reasonable. She's upset and emotional and almost goes through the whole ordeal keeping those emotions in check. The two times that falters is when Ares slings insults at Ody and Telemachus (while simultaneously fucking with her mind) and she lets herself cut loose for a moment. The other is after Zeus smites the shit out of her. I've seen a bunch of people say that Athena's last lines in the song don't feel very determined, very Athena. They feel like begging, something Athena wouldn't be caught dead doing in most cases. And I think that is the entire point. She has no other option. She tried logic. She tried resisting overwhelming force. It didn't work. All she can do is display herself at her weakest, willingly, as a last-ditch attempt to make SOMETHING happen.

Apollo- Apollo is the least interested in the whole affair and is just having a good time because he has to be there. With Apollo being the patron god of so many things, I think it is clever to make him somewhat uninterested in arguments with the other gods, he has other shit to deal with that he feels is more important and is definitely more fun than this nonsense.

Hera- Hera is also having a blast, but clearly has different feelings about the affair. She doesn't point out something wrong Ody did, only asks Athena for her most compelling argument. When that happens, she gives Athena her blessing in a very direct way, in my mind side-eyeing Zeus the whole rest of the song.

Aphrodite- I have mixed feelings about Aphrodite and her argument. While the point she makes and why she would make it checks out, it seems needlessly mean-spirited. The song itself(Athena) points this out in "he was busy fighting". It seems that Aphrodite is speaking from a point of frustration and/or spite, rather than giving the affair a good long look.

Ares- Ares has one of the most compelling arguments in the song in my opinion, until he starts to sling insults. The point that yeah, Ody did not attempt to fight, fled from Scylla, allowing men to die under his command is a reasonable thing for a god of war to be upset about. But again, as soon as he got too aggressive it all fell apart.

Hephaestus- I've seen a lot of talk about how Hephaestus, like Apollo, so clearly did not want to be there, and didn't put up much resistance for that reason. I think this is somewhat true, but doesn't say all there is to say. Because Hephaestus by far has the best argument of any of the gods. Why should he support someone who sacrificed his own men? His friends? The men who looked to him for guidance? It doesn't feel like Hephaestus was dragged out of his forge for this without any context. It feels like Hephaestus has been listening, quietly on the sidelines where no one notices him. THEN he is dragged out of his forge against his will.

Honestly, I had more to say than I thought I did. Thanks for indulging me, feel free to share your own thoughts on all this, I'm curious what others think.

[shmowder]

I have a very important Patho character question which characters do you think would have a cat? If they could? Personally I think of one character who strikes me as a cat person for sure but that’s probably like the most obvious candidate for that

Ah yes the most obvious candidate

the candidate that is the most likely to be a cat person

The Pathologic character candidate

Of course I know them duh. It's so obvious I don't even need to name them

Anyway here's the tierlist.

I debated whether Dankovsky would be a cat or dog person, I settled on dog because he likes having control. But I don't see him as a pet person at all. He prefers observing animals and reading about them, not interacting with them. Dogs he can stand if they behave, but he absolutely won't entertain someone's cat or bird if he was a guest at their house.

Anna wouldn't want any pets but if she could stand an animal, a cat would be the best choice sine they tend to be the cleanest.

I like the Idea of Rubin taking care of a kitten and raising it into a cute cuddly cat that brightens his day. That man deserves happiness.

I also like the idea of him and Artemy being so big and scary yet end up having cats as pets. Artemy's cat could either be a stray that adopts itself into his life or a cat that Isidor used to take care of and now it follows Artemy.

Aglaya would like dogs for their loyalty rather than the need to control them, she'd still admire cats for their freedom and cleverness.

Yulia desperately wants a cat but I think she is scared deep down of getting too attached to it, especially with no veterinarian in town and how devastated she'd be if her cat passes away. So she skips on the whole ordeal. She pspspsps at strays when no one is looking tho, shares some of her food with them.

Alexander Saburov seems the type to have a childhood dog he grew very attached to. He doesn't fully understand cats and doesn't like that they can't be trained but he'd still do his best to take care of one if it became his pet.

I think it's very ironic how much Khan resembles an indoor domestic spoiled cat personality wise yet he is the leader of the dogheads. My theory is that he tried petting a cat one and it scratched him and he held a grudge ever since so he always claims that dogs are better.

Maria would get a black cat thinking it will help her appear more fearsome in the town people's eyes, only for the cat to end up being the most loving adorable ball of pure abyss. She would kill for her cat and keeps it protected safe inside her room, she plays with the cat and showers it in compliments and kisses after locking the door to make sure no one walks in on her showing her soft side. If this was the modern world, Maria would have so many pictures of her adorable black fluffball playing with her expensive pearl necklace or rolling around her priceless silky sheets.

Notkin already has a cat, even tho he himself has the personality of a loyal dog. Cats scratching him didn't deter him but made him learn to respect animal boundaries.

Mark Immortell's cat is the incarnation of a hell cat, the most evil sinister and annoying thing that will slap you with its paws for giving it any non luxury brand cat food. They're two sides of the same coin and only he and his cat understand each other.

Katerina's position is a pun. Yk cats eat mice and the rat prophet and all, so she never wants a cat around.

Sticky seems like he'd take care of strays because he sees himself in them. He understands cats better than anyone, he too hates being disturbed and likes spending time alone. And he is also endlessly curious. He takes it upon himself to feed Murky and give her candy at the start of the game just when she starts frequenting the haruspex lair.

Murky learned from him, she probably used to leave cats bowls of milk before Sticky informed her it's actually bad for them and they can't have milk.

-

If it wasn't limited to cats, a bird would suit Eva much more because they thrive under attention and require so much love and care. Owning a bird, let alone an exotic one like a parrot is almost a full time job.

Artemy has his bull pet in canon, I think Oyun used to have one too. It would be adorable if Murky just led a baby calf home once because she found it alone outside and Artemy just accepted it as a new part of the family.

The Kains do already have pets, the human kind. Aka the Stamatins. But if they absolutely had to pick a different one, I see the Judge maintaining a pristine aquarium for the most beautiful fish you've ever seen. It takes dedication, time, knowledge and lots of money. The fish might end up as the family pet as every person chips in every once in a while, Victor fixing the water filter etc.

The Stamatins themselves would probably keep lizards, maybe even snakes. I don't think they know how to take care of pets or even want to learn. However I do see them sharing custody over a pet rabbit when they were just kids. It drove Peter crazy because it kept eating his canvasses. So Andrey took it with him outside most of the time. It ended up getting picked off by a hawk. The two brothers spent the remainder of the week setting up a trap to kill the hawk and avenge their pet.

[wolfawaycamp]

Maybe some abi/nick/jacob(which I am now calling furblygstos) getting together post-game? 👉👈

🌦️ somehow I was captivated by the most unlikely pairing (abijake) in the trio. here it is! Also it kind of got out of control. it's a 1.3k monster of a ficlet and Nick’s barely here

There were messages in Jacob’s phone, from the one and only Abigail Blyg.

The idea was so, so daunting just in itself. What could Abi have to say to him? Kaitlyn and Nick were the only ones who had any words left for him, after he came clean, and it was still weird with Nick. Though, Kait had assured him that Nick was just ‘like that’ now, which he really didn't know what to say to, and he had no clue how to broach the subject with Nick himself, so he never did.

It took him a week to open them because it was just so easy to put it off.

ABIGAIL: i forgive you

i’m sorry that was out of nowhere. i know we weren't the closest at camp but

i don't know. sorry

do you want to meet?

That was… weirdly reassuring, but also weirdly threatening.

JACOB: Hey ‼️💯 Sorry for late reply haha football practice is crazy 🔥🏈😩

That was believable… right?

JACOB: Let's do it‼️‼️‼️ Are u still in NY area⁉️

That was how Jacob ended up trying boba for the first time. Abi had ordered a purple drink, matching the new purple dye in her hair (complimenting it was the first thing Jacob had said to her, even before ‘hello’, because it really did suit her) and advised Jacob to get the same, when she saw him floundering over his order.

He watched her get the straw in in one precise shot, and then proceeded to get his drink all over the table and rip the lid when he tried. She laughed, tried to stop herself when she realised Jacob could hear, and then laughed tentatively louder when she saw him laughing too.

Abi tapped her short, painted nails against her drink and finally came to why she wanted to meet, “I just— I feel so bad for you. I feel so guilty for so many things that happened and we all did things but you're the one who's getting all the heat.”

Crumpling up the wet napkins into a ball, Jacob quickly asked, “Wait— guilty for what? You didn't do anything wrong?”

Abi took a deep drink from her straw. “I looked Nick in the eyes and shot him. He lived, but I didn't know he was going to. All you did was try to get one more night at camp. Half of us wanted that. Your intentions were a lot purer than mine.”

Jacob’s internal response to that was a jumbled mess of emotions. He'd heard the story, in full detail, from Kaitlyn. Even to him that was a clear case of self-defence. He had come to terms with, kind of, his own share of guilt, because even if he didn't mean it like that, it was still a whole ordeal. “Okay, no. A: my intentions were not pure, they were ‘ignore Emma breaking up with me’. 2: literally self-defence, dude. Sorry, I shouldn't call girls ‘dude’. Anyways, it was definitely self-defence. Kaitlyn told me everything, about how the—” his eyes darted around— “thing was making Nick go psycho.”

Jacob realised that he was thinking about Nick a little too hard while saying that, and ended up copying the ‘A’ and ‘2’ thing Nick had said to him that night.

Abi lightly chewed on the plastic of her straw. Jacob watched it catch on her lower lip. “Thank you. I guess if Nick’s friend tells me it's okay, then that's the second best source.”

“Dude— sorry, uh, girl— Nick doesn't even remember. No harm, no foul. He holds literally nothing against you.”

Abi gave him a wide-eyed look. “He told you that?”

Shit, was he supposed to tell her that? “Um, yeah.”

“Huh,” Abi said, and Jacob took a sip of his drink in the ensuing pause. It was really sweet but pretty good. “You're over Emma then?” she asked, and Jacob choked, and what the fuck, he had forgotten there were those balls in the drink.

Abi yelped. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she said, throwing more napkins at him, “I just— you mentioned the Emma thing so casually and I— sorry.”

Jacob cleaned himself up again, cringing a little at today’s clumsy streak, “Um, you're fine. Yeah. It's been nearly a year now. Plus, she really drilled it into me after.”

She snorted. “I heard.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed with no real anger.

Conversation came strangely easy after that. It was nice. He wondered why he hadn't talked to Abi more at camp.

Long after they finished drinking, Jacob felt a pang of hunger.

“Hey, do you want to get something to eat?”

Abi looked at him with an indiscernible expression for a reason Jacob didn't understand, and then just said, “Okay.”

Jacob got a chicken burger, and Abi got some vegan chicken fingers. Jacob laughed at how much ranch Abi used and she smiled at him picking the onion out of his burger. She told him about her art, when he asked, and then she asked him about his football practice. He had to hold himself back from admitting that it hadn't been that crazy, and he had just been making excuses.

In the end, Jacob was left holding a receipt with a drawing of him on it, dizzied by the realisation that his time spent with Abi had felt like the best date he'd ever had, when it wasn't even supposed to be one.

It was okay to ask his ex-girlfriend’s friend on a date, right? She had said they were only a summer fling, after all. Was it okay to ask his friend's ex-situationship on a date, too? It was coming up on a year since, and Nick avoided the topic like the plague, so it was probably fine. He hoped it was, because he was going to do it.

On their fifth date, a quiet night in watching a movie, Abi brought up Nick. It all came spilling out of Jacob all at once.

“I know exactly what you mean, Abs. Whenever I talk to him, hang out with him, whatever, it's just so weird. I’ve never had a guy friendship like this before— um, wait, other than Tyler in sixth grade— it just feels like we're staring at each other the whole time. I just don't get it.”

Abi looked fascinated. “I really don't think we're on the same lines here but— Go on?”

“About what?”

“Nick— Tyler?”

“You're a girl, but it's like when you and your bro have that close friendship that just feels weird, right? Like you get kinda nervous and sick when you hang out with him. Do girls ever get that too, like with other girls?”

Abi had that wide-eyed look again. “Some girls do. I have— but Jake, that's because I’m bisexual.”

Oh, shit. “Oh, shit. Sorry, uh,” Jacob stammered out, needing time to think about this. “What was your thing about him?”

A bad deflection, but Abi took it in stride, “Oh. Uh, I kinda still like him— not, um, that I'd ever do anything! I know we aren't like, together-together but I'm not— I’m not a cheater. Um, I kinda like him but my feelings are so weird. That night weirdly made me, um, like him more but also made me feel sick over him. I’ve worked through my feelings with therapy, we all did after that court mandate thing, but some things just stay stuck together. Anyways, Nick is weird and I’m weird, um, sorry for rambling.”

“Don't say sorry—”

“Sorry,” Abi cut in, and Jacob couldn't help but smile.

“Don't say sorry,” he repeated, and took Abi’s hand, “I get it. Turns out we both have weird Nick feelings.”

Jacob was proud of himself for his emotional maturity, as his therapist called it. He didn't even get jealous over the Nick thing!

“Don't tell Nick?” Abi murmured.

“Only if it goes both ways,” Jacob joked, serious in sentiment. Abi nodded and shifted closer to him on the couch.

They changed their mind in a few months.

Then, Nick was waiting for them, all perfect curls and doe-eyed, outside the same boba shop. Abi and Jake approached him as a unit, and hoped they wouldn't scare him off.

[caramel1mochi]

ぐちゃ ! (Splat!) [Yoru x F! Reader] [2]

Heya everyone!

Guess what? That's right, I'm trying something new!

After accumulating some a good amount of writing while waiting for the vote, instead of posting every other day with a few words, I'm gonna be posting once a week with a collection of words! Yep, this bad boy here is 7.8k words long!! MY HANDS AND EYES ARE KILLING ME I'M SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES I MISSED

This is just a test to see if it's a good idea or not. Maybe if it goes well, I'll keep going, or stop if it's chaotic. Anyway, have a good one! See you next Friday!

❤ฺ·。

Yoru x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5 / Part 6

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Hapless doesn't even begin to describe you. With your life flipped upside down within the span of a day; you're left to rely on your best friend Tala to help you pick up the pieces and build the new one forced upon you. And this 'luck' seems to have caught the attention of one of her friends.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Police sirens loudly rang throughout the entire district, Tala peeking from the alleyway you both hid in to notice another police car swerving past.

“Relax, Y/N, they won’t find us here!”

“It doesn’t matter! Did you see the print on the GROUND?!”

You gasped and held yourself, still shocked from the entire ordeal. Tala knelt next to you and patted your back, struggling to reassure you. How could she, when the sight surprised her just as much? Besides, it’s not like she knew how to calm people down in the first place.

“It almost killed us! It almost killed us, Tala!”

“It didn’t kill anyone, okay?! It missed us, we’re alive!”

“We almost died! We almost died!”

You hugged your knees, hyperventilating.

“We almost got squashed, it missed us by a few inches!”

You kept rambling nonsense under your breath, your voice quivering with an abnormal amount of fear. Tala, used to near-death experiences, wasn’t as horrified as you were. But that doesn’t mean what happened could just be easily brushed off.

Whilst swatting the flies away, suddenly, it was like an extraterrestrial force from outer space slammed itself against the ground. And when you both opened your eyes, a massive hand imprinted itself upon the hill you both stood on; defiling it. Like a giant that slapped the ground with all of its might. Even she couldn’t explain it.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s alright, look, if the government doesn’t catch up to us first, then maybe a secret organisation will!”

“HOW IS THAT BETTER?!”

She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck, chuckling to herself. 

“Okay, uh– good point, but… but look on the bright side! I just called someone and they know exactly how to help!”

“Help us?! We had nothing to do with this! The hand– it, it appeared out of nowhere, it came out of nowhere! It almost killed us! We were so close–”

Tala grabbed your shoulders, and forced your gaze on hers. She would slap you, but you weren’t one of her co-workers.

“Y/N! Help is on the way, okay! Stop freaking out!”

You stood up, clutching your head with both hands and muttering random sentences under your breath, ones she didn’t catch onto.

“I– I think I’m going insane, Tala! A– a giant hand, a massive hand! It appeared out of nowhere and almost hit us! How does that happen, how is this– how, is it possible? How is it normal?! Is this– is this what they meant by Radiants being dangerous?!”

“No, Y/N, this has nothing to do with that!”

Tala knew your information of Radiancy was extremely limited, mostly to what the news would spew out. But she couldn’t exactly tell you the whole story, not when you could hardly differentiate between left and right. Also, it’s confidential. Shouldn’t forget that.

“Just hold on, we’ll get help. The police will be off our tail in a second!”

You turned to her, panicking.

“Why would the police be on our tail?!”

Shouldn’t have said that either.

“What’s with you two?”

Thankfully, like some guardian angel (to Tala), a familiar voice appeared from behind you both. A dark silhouette stood in the entrance of the constricted alley, the street lights reflecting off of his blue jacket. Of course, you were terrified for a split second, thinking it was a cop, but Tala’s reaction quickly calmed you.

“Yoru, finally! We need your help!”

He stepped in, both hands in his pockets. And on his face, juxtaposed to the chaos, the police sirens and helicopters that wrapped around the park you both rushed out of, was an expression full of boredom.

“What now? Did you make another thunderstorm?”

Tala noticed the sudden shift in your expression and awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of her head. But luckily, Yoru turned his attention to you instead.

“Who are you?”

“Who am I? Who are you? Why are you here?!”

“Yoru! Yoru, she’s, uh– this is, this is Y/N, my friend, and she’s freaked out right now, so you shouldn’t be asking her anything.”

He blankly stared at you, almost as if he was sceptical of your general presence. Thankfully, it was only for a few seconds before he turned to Tala.

“Give me a run down.”

“Alright!”

Tala quickly perked up, politely keeping your mouth shut. The events were scrambled in your mind, so the chances of you saying anything coherent was zero. And Tala knew it.

“There’s a park behind us, and, uh… there might be, sort of, a massive handprint on the hill.”

“Yeah, I saw it on the news. I meant give me the intimate rundown. Did your kit manifest?”

Pictures already spread throughout the country, especially since it flattened a few dozen massive trees in one fell swoop, and possibly a few animals hidden within the grass and branches. If the concept of it pancaking living beings wasn’t so horrifying, it would’ve been impressive. Of course, it shocked you how quickly things spread, but bad news travels fast, as they say.

Tala raised her hands defensively.

“There wasn’t electricity involved, it wasn’t my fault! Stop bringing it up!”

“Electricity?!”

You blurted out, and it was too late for Tala. Though he might’ve not really known it, Yoru’s complete disregard for the situation pretty much exposed her. Not that he really cared.

“Is she a Radiant?”

“No, she’s not. I’m telling you, it wasn’t either of us!”

Tala interrupted, but Yoru kept his eyes on yours, as if she never spoke.

“Before the hand, what exactly were you doing?”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t help but feel uneasy under his piercing gaze as he towered over you. Then, he looked down, the glimmer of gold catching his attention. In the darkness that enveloped you all, it stood out.

“I– I was swatting flies, okay? They were gathering around us and I–”

“Spare me the details. You were swatting flies, right?”

You nodded.

“Y– yes, yeah, I was swatting–”

“Was your hand open?”

“Yeah?”

“And what about this thing?” 

He pointed to your bracelet, which you didn’t even notice until now. Not when you stumbled on your words, hardly able to put together a sentence with how fast he was going. Unlike Tala, this Yoru guy absolutely did not hold back, even when you were at the peak of your anguish. He seemed overeager to put the blame on you.

“This bracelet? What about it?! It has nothing to do with–”

The words were stuck in your throat once you lifted your hand and actually got a good look at it. You saw the golden accessory now wrapped tightly around your wrist, hardly moving an inch. Unlike before, when it could’ve easily been mistaken for a necklace with how loose it was. You scratched at it; but it wouldn’t move. 

Tala was just as stumped.

“That– that was loose, yeah?”

You awkwardly laughed, struggling to tilt the object. But it stuck to you, like a limb. It didn’t take long for Yoru to catch on, turning to Tala.

“There’s your problem. You should’ve called Harbour, not me, idiot.”

“Harbour’s not my friend and you know it!”

As they bickered, you struggled with the bracelet. But trying to vigorously rip it away from you shot pain through your arm. Trying to get this off would be like ripping off your finger with no tools. You couldn’t fathom how this was even possible. How did it even happen? How did it tighten, and when?!

You clenched your fist and worked to take it off, digging your nails under it whilst the two continued arguing about meaningless nonsense.

“The bracelet’s so tiny! How could it have so much power, anyway?!”

“Hell if I know.”

“Really, it also fell on her arm when she first wore it! When did it get so tight?”

As she continued rambling, Yoru felt an odd sensation enter the atmosphere around them. And he quickly glanced behind him, noticing the trees that previously swerved with the wind completely stop, the branches now still as statues.

In the literal sense, the air stood still. 

He looked at you, noticing your fist clenched, and you prepared to loosen it.

Then, the shadow of an invisible set of fingers emerged above you. 

But just before it could crush you all, he grabbed your wrist and slammed it against the nearby wall, the silhouette disappearing just as fast as it appeared; not before destroying the top portion of the buildings you both hid in between.

“Stop moving that damn hand!”

He shouted, a massive portion of the roof falling behind you. It crashed and splattered into pieces so loudly, the noise deafened you for a split second. And once it was over, you weren’t given a single moment to catch yourself. Yoru angrily met your gaze, still holding on to your wrist.

“Don’t you dare move a finger, lady. Your hand can squash a quarter of the Philippines.”

Just like that, he let go and stepped out of the alley.

“With me. We’re getting this sorted.”

Like a pair of chicks behind their mother hen, you both mindlessly rushed behind him, blindly trusting his judgement. Of course, you had no choice, while Tala clearly trusted this dude.

“That’s so cool! So, this is like, an artefact? Like Harbour and Astra? You also have that mask, yeah?”

“What are you talking about?!”

Tala stuttered once she remembered you were right there again. And this time, Yoru caught on, annoyed. She could hardly go a few seconds without blowing her cover now, and it was embarrassing to watch on his end. So, like the honest, no-nonsense man that he was, he made the obvious decision to ease the stress on his dear friend’s shoulders.

“We’re both Radiants part of a secret organisation. And her callsign’s Neon.”

“Yoru!”

Genius.

“Neon? Radiants? Secret organisation?! So, that’s the job you didn’t want to tell me about!”

You met her gaze angrily, furious at her keeping this from you. And of course, she awkwardly chuckled, turning her gaze away. Shortly after, you clutched your head and massaged your temples, working to ease the aching that slowly took over you.

“Oh god, this is too much for one day…”

Yoru sighed and took out his comb, brushing his hair.

“Yeah? Don’t worry, there’s more.”

❤ฺ·。

Arriving on an aircraft dubbed the VLT/R, you sat right next to Tala– sorry, NEON, still holding your head and staring at the pristine flooring in shock. Yoru sat in front of you, fiddling with a butterfly comb in his hand. Unlike you, he was completely unbothered. Maybe he had gotten slightly amused by the situation, and your reaction to all of this. The tension was heavy, and she could tell your head was so close to exploding. NEON needed to calm you down.

“So… what now?”

“Best case scenario, they break the thing off and let her go.”

“Great! Don’t worry, Y/N, you’ll be back to your clerk job in no time!”

Neon said as she clasped her hands together. Yoru, on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow.

“Tch. You’re excited about being a clerk?”

“It’s a peaceful job!”

You blurt out, meeting his gaze. And he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Right. Must be high paying, too. You smell like you stepped out of a hibachi restaurant.”

…

“Is that a joke?”

“I’m serious.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“We went to a cafe. No restaurant.”

“Liar. I know the scent of a grilled steak with soy sauce on top. All cooked in sesame oil, too. Only a skilled hibachi chef could successfully pull off something that smells like that.” 

You blankly stared at him for a few seconds, unable to process all of the extra information. Compared to everything you previously learned, it wasn’t anything important, but you also never went to a hibachi restaurant in your entire life. Too expensive.

Yoru proudly pointed to his nose, a smug smile on his face.

With how blank his expression was this entire time, this looked unnatural on him.

“I have a good sense of smell.”

“Yeah… I didn’t want to say anything, but I swore I could smell adobo since we left the alley. Fresh adobo! Just the way lola makes it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching Neon lick her lips in excitement at the simple thought of it.

“I think you’re both just hungry.”

“Did you dip your hand in water?”

Yoru suddenly perked up. You met his gaze in confusion, before he pointed to your hand. 

And safe to say, you were shocked all over again. Out of nowhere, there was some form of liquid that suddenly started seeping from your skin, dripping down your hand. It wasn’t sweat, either, it was an ongoing flow of clear fluid, like water.

You held it up to your face, confused. It didn’t smell like anything. Maybe it was water?

“I probably wasn’t looking…”

Before another word can be exchanged, you jumped once the VLT/R landed, and the door slid open to reveal a sight that took you a second to process. In the exit stood two women and one man. The one with the long black ponytail stepped up, a warm smile on her face and her eyes locked on yours.

❤ฺ·。

 

At first, you thought the one with the ponytail, Sage, would be the one to examine your hand. But Viper instead took it upon herself, since she seemed more qualified when it came to actually studying the human body and such.

It was the next day, early morning, and weirdly enough, it started off better than most mornings. That’s right, you were in the empty cafeteria, getting yelled at by your boss on the phone. You would say it’s a typical morning, but that would be a lie. Usually, you’d wake up by your extremely aggravating alarm at four, and still be late for work. Or, on the weekends, by the screaming of your younger family members.

“Y/N, I trusted you to have the papers ready by seven! You didn’t even show up!”

“Look, I’m sorry. Things happened!”

“What? ‘Things happen?’ That’s your excuse? You might as well spit on my face while you’re at it.”

You sighed and glanced at the bracelet on your right hand, a jade green tinge slowly overwhelming the gold.

“It wasn’t my choice. You’d know me by now, right? I never miss a day of work. But believe me, just this one time, something really did happen!”

“Unless this vague thing can get my papers done in less than fifteen minutes, it doesn’t really concern me, Y/N!”

You winced at the volume of his voice. Even if you’d gotten around to completing the task he’d given you, the amount of papers you were entrusted with were enough to complete a book. Logically, you’d need multiple people to complete it.

But he knew that, unlike you, your co-workers would complain about doing this without getting paid for it.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ll try to find my way back, but–”

“Don’t bother. I might as well fire you, that’ll save me the stress of–”

You noticed a shadow looming over you, looking to your right to find a familiar face. Surprisingly, it was Yoru; the guy from yesterday.

Pleasantly complementing his generally blue palette were the rays of the sun, painting both him and the cafeteria into a stunning shade of gold. Had you believed in fairytales, you’d assume the Midas touch was in full effect.

You muted and gave him a tired smile.

“Magandang umaga. Yoru, right?” <Good morning.>‎‎  

He pointed to the phone in your ear, your boss’s voice loud enough for him to be audible to the Japanese.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, I missed work and my boss’s mad. Don’t worry, he’ll drop it eventually.”

You’d grown used to his yelling enough to be able to guess exactly what he’s talking about. And thus, you were able to have a conversation without missing anything. And by the blank look on Yoru’s face, he wasn’t impressed.

“You might as well quit.”

You tittered and turned back to the phone, but he caught your attention once more.

“I’m serious. You’re not going back to civilisation with that thing on your wrist.”

“I live paycheck to paycheck, you know. If I quit, I’ll be out on the streets!”

“You’ll be living here, lady. There’s no ‘bills’ anymore.”

His tone slightly shifted towards aggression. And though you were taken aback, you were already overloaded with stress enough to let it slide.

“Even if I wanted to quit, he won’t take me seriously! Maybe if I keep nagging him for like, a week, but not now.”

“Best I can do is two minutes.”

You stared at him for a moment, before tilting your head.

“You can get me out in two?”

“Want me to?”

He really thinks he can get to someone as stubborn and talkative as your boss, huh? As much as you didn’t want to, you really didn’t have much to lose. Even you knew that they wouldn’t let you out so soon after flattening a hill by accident. And so, with an eager nod, he immediately. stretched out his hand towards you.

“Hand me that.”

You did. He took a few steps away, and you shifted in your seat as he walked towards the centre of the cafeteria, anxious.

“Hey, listen here.”

Yoru slightly raised his voice. Though he was a metre away, you could hear the boss’s ranting immediately get interrupted.

“This is her friend. She quit. Sorry.” 

The air stood still for a few seconds, before he started talking again, clearly furious. And knowing how much he liked to rabbit about, Yoru had gotten sick of his voice within a few seconds, judging by the way he furrowed his brow. Probably bringing up the papers he entrusted you with.

“Not her problem anymore. Figure it out.”

Just as he began ranting again, Yoru quickly spoke up.

“Yeah. Too bad. Bye.”

And just like that, he closed the call and handed you the phone.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. More specifically at how blunt he was, telling a powerful man to shut his trap like that.

“Juskó, uh, are you– are you sure he won’t–” <Oh my god,>‎ 

Just as you said that, your phone began ringing once more, and it was exactly who you expected.

“Do I answer?!”

“Tch, no? Block him.”

“But what if he gets mad? Like, what if he does something?”

He rolled his eyes and moved to the fridge.

“Y/N, you’re an active threat to humanity until you get that hand under control. Relax.”

Oh, right. The bracelet.

You stared at the phone ringing in silence, many thoughts overlapping in your mind. Though you were shocked to your core at what he’d done, Yoru didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. He simply made his breakfast like this was a typical morning for him.

Taking your phone into your hand, you hesitantly closed the call. It began ringing again. And this time, you took his advice and blocked him. Once you did, the calls stopped coming. And it was as if a few tonnes of metal were lifted off of your shoulders, taking in the silence once more.

Wow… This must be what serenity feels like, beyond a word slapped on top of a pretty image on Google.

“So… what happens now?”

“What?”

“I just quit my job. What do I do now?”

“You work for Valorant now. Did Viper test out that arm yet?”

You looked at your hand where the ‘bracelet’ sat. Only now did you notice the colour. There wasn’t a hint of gold anymore. It was fully green, and it didn’t glimmer like a gem.

Also, they numbed your arm so that you wouldn’t accidentally crush the base.

“I guess. I don’t remember what she told me. I blanked out halfway through.”

Yoru scoffed.

“They’ll figure that out, first. Then, after training, you’ll get on missions with us.”

You looked up at him, watching him take out a few eggs and wash them.

“Missions? Like what?”

“Depends. Other than squashing, what can you do?”

You turned back to your numb arm. And this time, you lifted up to the table, allowing the sun to shine and give you a clearer view of the bracelet.

It was hard to remember, and you left Viper’s synopsis back in Neon’s room since you ran out when your boss called.

“I think she said I can make smells, or whatever.”

“Tch, what?”

“Yeah, wait– I remember now! The water from my hand, apparently it’s nectar and it has a scent. Viper said it smells like fruit, and there’s someone else, she had a big ponytail. She said it smells like… mountain air.”

“Mountain air? Yeah, that checks out.”

You followed his movements, watching him wash a bowl and a pan. Was he mocking her?

“What does that mean?”

“Sage was a monk, I think. Probably meditated on a mountain.”

He turned on the stove and immediately got to cooking, cracking the eggs.

“Monk? That’s… new.”

The people here sounded like unique individuals. First, Viper, whom you recognised from the awards she won years ago. Now, a monk.

“Explains the hibachi smell yesterday.”

He commented and you smiled to yourself, remembering his eagerness as he explained the intricate details of the meat.  Him, and Neon. So, the smell differs with everyone, you thought. But you seemed to be immune to it.

Then, there was a delectable real smell that ripped your attention away from your thinking and back onto Yoru. Surprisingly, it was from his food.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Tornado omelette.”

Tornado omelette? Unique breakfast, you thought.

“Mind sharing?”

“I do, actually.”

You paused for a moment, quickly growing disappointed once you understood.

“Awe, really? Lame.”

“Yeah, I only cook for people I like. Sorry.”

His apology didn’t sound genuine. But, to be fair, nothing that came out of his mouth sounded genuine. ‘People I like’, he said. Did you even need to ask to know that his list of liked people was minuscule? Just look at him.

“Do you like anyone here?”

“No.”

He answered with quickness and you rolled your eyes and sat back. But then, you promptly remembered what he did. Yoru shut down your boss with no more than a few words, and practically freed you within a few minutes of meeting you. So really, how could you be mad at him right now?

This was one of the rare interactions that didn’t go horribly wrong.

You looked at him. Well, the back of his head, since he wasn’t facing you whatsoever.

“Hey, Yoru?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled.

“Thanks for helping me out.”

…

“Don’t thank me.”

He said. And again, you were taken aback. It didn’t sound like a humble statement, either. He genuinely sounded uninterested by your gratitude. What kind of philosophy does this guy follow? You thought, but it felt like it was too soon to judge.

❤ฺ·。

“I can’t believe you’re getting your own room already. You should’ve said no, and we’d have sleepovers every night!”

Neon said excitedly as you scanned the updated paper in your hand. Her voice echoed through the cafeteria you both sat in, since it was empty despite it being late in the afternoon. It’s not like you’ve seen anyone other than her and Yoru, and Viper who took you in for a few hours before letting you have your break.

“Tala, two can barely fit on that bed.”

“But with a promotion, I can make it a king-size.”

She winked, and you couldn’t help but force an eye roll at this, looking down at the paper again.

“Also, it’s Neon. You’re not really allowed to use real names around here, remember?”

“You guys call me by my name all the time.”

“They haven’t picked a callsign for you yet! I’m thinking it’s something about gems. Maybe… Psh, I dunno, gold? Mineral?”

“Mineral? What am I, baby food?”

Neon laughed, taking her smoothie into her hand.

“Fair enough. Anyway, did you meet anyone yet?”

You wordlessly gestured to the cafeteria around you, as if to remind her there’s nobody. And it’s not like she caught on, she blankly stared at you as she took a sip.

“Valorant’s emptier than I thought. Are you and Yoru the only ones here?”

“Oh! No, no way, there’s plenty of us! They’re on missions right now.”

Amidst your crowded and exhausted mind, the only people you remembered were Viper and the other monk lady. But were you about to admit that, out of all of them, Yoru took control of your mind effortlessly? Well…

You put the paper down and sighed, smiling.

“I talked to Yoru this morning…”

Neon raised an eyebrow as she sipped her smoothie, watching your previously tense posture shift.

“What’s his deal?”

“What do you mean?”

You turned your gaze away, unsure how to tell her.

“I don’t know. He's nice, but also vulgar at the same time.”

“Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean. Yoru’s just that type of guy, you know? Lone wolf and that edgy stuff. He’s a rude-ass, but if you don’t mind that, he’s chill.” she brought the straw up to her lips as she spoke, “Did he do anything?”

“He told my boss off, and I don’t have a job now.”

She nearly choked, clearing her throat and pulling the drink away.

“Your boss? The same guy who–”

“YES. The same guy who convinced me unpaid overtime is legal, okay? Don’t remind me.”

Neon laughed, taking a quick sip. And this time, she was mindful not to spill a single drop.

“Did he share his food with you, though?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then he doesn’t like you.”

…

What? 

“Is this an ongoing thing?”

“It is! Yoru’s like, the best cook here. Nobody can top him, but nobody can get a taste either. I’d kill to try his homemade soba!”

She said as she licked her lips with the same excitement she harboured for her lola’s adobo. You beamed at this, sitting up once more. Nobody can get a taste either, huh? And Neon’s overeagerness combined with the tornado omelette you saw earlier, it was clear that his dishes were no joke. Gordon Ramsay who, right?

But just as you thought you could take on this challenge, you backed off.

No way.

Then, Neon fixed her posture once the sound of heels clicking took over your ears, both of you looking back to see a silhouette familiar to only her. You squinted, before smiling once you recognised the large ponytail, elegantly swerving with each step.

“Good morning, Y/N. How’s your hand?”

The ‘monk’, as you called her in your mind said, a sweet smile lifting her cheeks. Applying pressure to your fingers, you could tell the drug only now was in the midst of wearing off.

“Still numb, but I’m used to it.”

“Good. Are you ready to go back to the lab?”

You sighed and nodded. But just as you stood up, so did Neon, putting down her now-empty smoothie with a loud clank.

“Sage, did we decide on a name yet?”

Sage. That’s her name. Well, callsign

“Something came to mind, but we won't get to it until we determine how her hand works.”

She stopped at the doorway, wordlessly gesturing to you both to follow her. And with excitement you definitely didn’t share, Neon made her way towards the healer, trotting with each step.

❤ฺ·。

There wasn’t much of a difference between your old boss and Viper, now that a few hours have passed. Sure, this time, by what Yoru said and Neon confirmed; you had absolutely no bills to pay and even had vending machines to eat out of and all you had to do was let her study you relentlessly– okay, putting it that way; you sounded like a child.

“This might hurt.”

Viper suddenly twisted your wrist, forcing you to take in a sharp breath. Just a few more inches, and she’d definitely rip a few tendons. Thank god your hand was still numb.

“No, that’s fine– go ahead.”

You said with an awkward giggle, but she didn’t change her focused expression. And like an orange, more of the transparent nectar slipped out. And using her pipet, she aspirated a considerable amount of it, before emptying out on a vial. Then, she repeated this process, until it was full. 

“Sheesh, Y/N. Are you a sadist?”

“Sadist…?”

You said in confusion. Viper pulled away, side-eyeing Neon as she worked on the sample, and you quickly clutched your wet hand to relieve the pain.

“I think you mean masochist.”

“Tomato, tomato.”

Viper inhaled the scent of the nectar. And to your surprise, her face twisted to disgust; a major contrast to the serene expression you evoked from her and Sage just the day before.

“The smell keeps changing. What’s with that?”

“How? Didn’t it smell like fruit yesterday?”

“Yes, but it’s like…”

She pulled down her surgical mask and smelled it once more.

…

Viper shook her head. Clearly, she knew the answer, she just didn’t want to say.

“Neon, smell this.”

Neon stepped up to the counter and took a deep sniff, before coughing and pulling away.

“Why does that smell like– bleh, it smells like a bunch of electricity!”

You stared at her in confusion, and she took another deep inhale, clearing her throat.

“Yeah, it’s like, it’s kinda like I stuffed my face into a thunderstorm and smelt it, you know? It– it doesn’t make sense, I know!”

“Probably shouldn’t have only one person to test the sample.”

Viper sarcastically noted as she hurriedly closed the vial. This, of course, earned an odd look from you.

“Wait– but yesterday you said that the smell was good. Why’s it bad now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s linked to emotion. How do you feel right now?”

You blinked.

“Uh… Fine, I guess?”

Just as you said that, there was a loud yet unfamiliar knock on the door behind you, and you all looked over to see a figure push the doors open and let himself in. It was a large burly man. Tall, and by god, even though his ocean-blue colour scheme reminded you of Yoru, the aura he emitted with each step was one of confidence and joy you’ve never seen in anyone else, especially not in a workplace. It was a complete juxtaposition to everything the Japanese was.

“Good afternoon, ladies! How are we doing?”

He called out with an immense amount of charm, being met with a wide smile from Neon.

“Harbour, welcome back! Remember what I told you? We found your match!”

“I thought I heard some ruckus about a new bracelet-wielder around here.”

Harbour. That must be the guy with the bracelet artefact, you thought.

He stopped. And though he met your gaze, your eyes were locked on his arm, his own imposing bracelet taking over half of his forearm with mesmerising patterns, as if it was cuttlefish that would take on different colours to hypnotise prey. Moreover, it was gold. Unlike the weird gross green tinge you had, it shined brilliantly, harbouring the same confidence as its carrier.

“I take it you’re tired?”

You jumped and looked at him, your lids heavier than a few tonnes of metal. Clearly, he said a few things you didn’t catch beforehand.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was– uh, your bracelet’s so much cooler…”

“Don’t say that, I’m sure yours has its own unique–”

“Definitely not.”

Holding up your arm, your hand and fingers numb, you smiled awkwardly as you allowed him to take in your own underwhelming… artefact. You noticed a shift in his expression as he took a step closer and observed, but his response wasn’t what you expected.

“Wait, is this a plant, or what?”

Only now did you notice the bracelet’s new form. And to say it was incredibly awkward looking, especially compared to Harbour, would be a grave understatement. To put it in the most flattering way possible, it looked like you ripped out a rose, cut off the top, took the stem and tightly wrapped them around your hand.

It took on a more forest-green colour with a vague cherry red hue surrounding it, a dozen spikes slowly sprouting with a drop of clear fluid on the end of each one of them. Said liquid looked like the nectar your hand would produce, but more contained.

Sure, the green might literally be its ‘stem’, but what plant even looked like this? Besides the aforementioned roses, you couldn’t think of anything else that was red in this way.

“Harbour, before you train her, can you smell this?”

Viper quickly handed him the vial. And once he complied, you noticed his previously amicable expression quickly switch at this. The scent displeased him. It wasn’t like he was disgusted, either. It was something else.

“That’s…”

He smelled it once more, before handing it back to her.

“That’s just repugnant.”

“Repugnant? Why, what do you smell?”

Even she was surprised at the word he used.

“I can’t describe it. I– I think you should ask someone else instead. Now, let’s get going, those hands aren’t going to train themselves, are they?”

Barely given a moment to process from how fast he was going, you quickly stood up and followed him. But why was he so eager to leave the conversation after smelling the vial? You wondered, especially with how quick he began talking. Just what could be in it?

However, before you could ask, he suddenly perked up with a new topic.

“How long have you been in that lab for?”

“Oh, I don’t know, since twelve?”

“Twelve afternoon? That’s almost six hours. I can’t imagine how suffocating it would be to stay that long. No pun intended.”

You smiled to yourself, meeting his gaze as you each walked down an unfamiliar hallway. He didn’t say anything funny, you just couldn’t help but share his contagious joy just by the way he’d talk.

Harbour was a massive difference from Yoru, that’s for sure.

“No pun intended? What pun?”

“You weren’t told yet? Viper works with poison. That’s her whole thing.”

“Oh? Poison? But I thought– wasn’t she a doctor…?”

“Doctor? Well, if you consider submerging rats in acid as healing them, then technically she’s a doctor.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples, attempting to move your right hand’s fingers despite barely being able to feel them. But thankfully, by this time, the drugs had slowly begun to wear off.

“Is there anyone normal around here?”

Harbour laughed and crossed his arms.

“I’ll be the first to tell you, you’re out of luck with that. I can't think of anybody here that’s normal.”

“Looks like I’m the first one, huh?”

Harbour laughed, slapping your back with a considerable amount of roughness, enough to unintentionally hurt you. But you kept your mouth shut and simply smiled along. It felt like your shoulder blade was about to break in half.

Every new agent that would be introduced, it would take some time to get used to them, with how unique everyone looked. But the only unique thing about you was your ‘bracelet’, the dark roots deep within your arm that looked like veins from far away, and maybe your messy bob. Other than that, you looked completely out of place. Almost to a funny degree if it wasn’t terrifying somewhat.

Harbour then stopped in front of a doorway. Inside, you could hear distant banging. Few and far between, but each one still made you jump.

“What the hell’s that noise?”

“That? Probably Gekko training.”

Gekko? 

“What kind of training makes this noise?”

He looked at you in amusement, still grinning.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were normal, huh? Anyway, you’ve spent six hours back in the lab, you don’t want a break before we work on that hand?”

“No, no, no breaks, it’s okay. We can keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

You smiled and shook your head, clearly insisting despite your considerable need to lie down. It felt like you’d be a nuisance if you prolonged this anymore, so you couldn’t help but cave in.

“Sure. I’m a bank clerk, I can handle anything.”

“Is that so? Can you handle guns?”

You awkwardly laughed, hoping that he was being sarcastic since his cheeky tone supported this notion.

“Oh, please. I get held at gunpoint weekly at work, a little glock isn’t gonna do anything to me.”

“Haha, good one. Alright, come in, we’ll see what you can do.”

You weren’t joking.

He swung the doors open and allowed the air from inside to strongly hit your face like a solid bring, the strong scent of gunpowder entering your nostrils. And from the figure far away, shooting down a few dozen bots with smoke billowing from the red tip, it wasn’t a smell your hand could produce, that's for sure. Not since you yourself could smell it.

“Gekko, easy on the Vandal! Give it a moment to cool down!”

He shouted over the shooting, somehow, his deep voice dwarfing the sounds of the bullets. Enough to earn his attention and quickly comply.

“Hey, coach, welcome back! How was–”

Just as Gekko looked back, he cut his sentence short and smiled as you two approached him, the smell of fire growing stronger and stronger. 

“Woah, who’s this?”

He quickly put the gun down, turned his body to face you in order to look more presentable. And by god, you couldn’t help but stare at his neon green buzzcut. With how exhausted you were, this bright colour managed to wake you up.

“We have a new one to train alongside you. This is…”

“Y/N.”

Gekko beamed at this, clearly excited at having a new recruit already.

“Y/N! What’s up? They didn’t give you a name, yet?”

“Yeah… no. She’s an active threat right now. Names will come after we make sure she won’t squash the base by accident.”

“Squash the base? Like the whole thing?! Jeez, I don’t even want to ask what you can do.”

You sighed.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t involve the radivore stuff, Deadlock will be on your ass if so.”

He winked with an immense amount of cheekiness, earning an eye roll from Harbour. But before he could get an earful for somehow bringing whoever that was into this, you heard a gurgle behind him, and a yellow creature emerged from next to his leg, an audible pitter patter with each slow step as it moved to get a good look at you.

You blinked and stared at it.

Were you dreaming, or what?

“Since when were penguins yellow?”

Gekko looked down in confusion, before he glanced behind him and saw exactly what you were talking about. And he couldn’t help but laugh at your assumption.

“No, this is Wings! He’s one of my buddies. You know, he’s part of that radivore thing I talked about.”

You knelt, getting a closer look at the critter. And he looked adorable. Especially with the armour plates and the purple mask thing he had over his face, complementing his beady white eyes.

“Is he a penguin, though?”

“Noo, no penguins! He’s a whole new thing, you feel me? I dunno what, but it’s… um, you know, I never really thought about it.”

“Maybe you should do the honours of naming the species, Gekko.”

Harbour joked, but Gekko seemed to take it seriously, saying something your tired mind didn’t catch.

Wingman slowly approached, his eyes clearly stuck on the bracelet. Probably since the vein-root thing looked pretty macabre when you spent more than a second observing it.

“Anyway, I’m thinking we take this training outside, like Brim said. Maybe a landscape, what do you think?”

Harbour noted. And Gekko probably said something in response to this, but again, you couldn’t focus on anything other than the mysterious creature in front of you. Also, how much you wanted to sleep. Hey, things were going well so far, why not enjoy yourself?

“He’s so tiny, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You muttered. And on instinct, after the medicine wore off, you lifted your right hand to pet him.

“Y/N, I don’t think you should–”

A loud crash, though muffled, suddenly took over all of your ears.

You suddenly were forced up with an immense amount of pressure around your wrists, enough to completely restrict your blood flow. Harbour had grabbed your wrist and lifted you before anymore damage could be done.

“OKAY. Okay. You know what? I think we’re taking you–”

Then, a portion of the roof to your right tumbled over, squashing at least five bots with a loud bang that deafened each of you. And of course, that wasn’t to account for the debris that suddenly rushed so threateningly close towards you.

All colour drained from your face.

❤ฺ·。

Your entire right arm was drugged. 

And despite her best efforts, Neon wasn’t able to convince you to leave her room to meet the rest of the agents, especially her friends, who’d just returned from their expedition. Or even help you forget what had happened. The only silver lining in this was that Viper hadn’t had the time to assign you your own room. Otherwise, she’d be banging and clawing at your door like a hungry cat.

“Y/N, relax, it’s fine! Harbour said the hole’s only a metre wide, it’s easy to fix!”

“I’M NOT MOVING.”

You shouted, your voice muffled since your hand covered the majority of your face. Mostly the lower part, but I digress. Since you were sitting on a chair with your arm resting on the vanity table (full of plushies you pushed away), she was able to place a hand on your back in an attempt to reassure you.

“I’m serious, it’ll be fixed in like, a few days. Are you gonna sit here your entire life?”

“Do you know what I heard when I came back here? The white haired one, she said; ‘why’s the training range out of order?’”

Neon knew you were referring to Jett. And yeah, duh, said range was most of the agents’ favourite spot to chill, other than the cafeteria. So putting out of order on your first day… Mortifying, to say the least.

“It was an honest mistake, Y/N. Nobody’s mad over it. Also we have like, a bunch of robots to take care of stuff around here.”

“I’m not leaving this room, Tala! When I meet those other people, I’ll probably pancake them! The only person who I sorta made a good impression on was Yoru, and that was its own brand of embarrassing…”

Neon took a step back and stroked her chin, suddenly falling into silence for the next few seconds.

Of course, being overwhelmed with the fact you’d crushed a portion of the base, even though Harbour insisted it was his fault for not bringing you out sooner, it took you a moment to realise that she was brewing one of her familiar plans.

Then, she took out her phone and gave you her back, taking a few steps away. And you couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of you.

“Tala, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing…” 

Ignoring the dozen of messages she’d already received from her friends when they noticed her and your disappearance, she quickly opened Yoru’s (empty) DMs and began rapidly typing. Of course, of all people, he’d be the last to ask about your whereabouts.

‘HEY’

Surprisingly, he went online and saw the message pretty fast.

‘HELP ME GET HER OUT????’

‘SHE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE MY ROOM CUS OF THE RANGE STUFF’

‘hell do u want me to do’

“It’s this stupid hand!”

You suddenly called out, grabbing your numb wrist and tossing it on the table like it wasn’t a part of your body. And under the sharp rays of the beach image she’d set to your right, it managed to highlight the roots inside. A few had grown thicker than your very fingers, and travelled through your entire arm towards your shoulder. Clothes concealed the rest of the details, but did you want to know what it looked like?

Thanks to the medicine, it prevented the bracelet from emitting scent. Otherwise the whole room would stink of electricity or whatever Neon said earlier.

“I wish I could just chop it off! I can go with one hand in life, why shouldn’t I?! I can switch to using my left one, anyway!” 

Neon, while texting, laughed to herself.

“Not that I’m saying you should, but– why don’t you? Again, I’m not saying you should!”

You sat back with a deep sigh. Admittedly, you would never willingly amputate your arm. You weren’t that desperate. Or brave.

“Viper said the thing’s implanted in my nervous system, or something. It’s stuck to my brain now.”

“Unlucky…”

She nervously mumbled, continuously spamming Yoru with texts upon texts as you spoke.

“Hey, so, unrelated, how do you feel about Sage?”

“Sage? That healer one?”

Neon nodded and turned to your gaze, setting her phone to silent so that you wouldn’t hear the incoming notifications. She watched you shrug and turn your gaze to the string of pictures and posters hung up in front of you.

“I didn’t see much of her, but she’s nice, I guess. Why’s it always the healers who are nice?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Nothing! Okay, how about this. We talk to Sage, and since she’s nice and stuff, maybe she can help you out?”

You stared at her for a few seconds, before standing up and walking towards the centrepiece of the room, the haven of her plushes and freedom to do the most impossible gymnastics in her sleep.

“Thanks, but I think it’s better if I head to bed.”

“Wait, wait, think about it! She does stuff with her hands, you do stuff with your hands, it’s a match! Right?”

You plopped yourself onto the bed. And like a cocoon, you wrapped the blankets around you, completely concealing yourself. Neon let out a defeated groan.

“Goodnight, Tala.”

“Bah, you’re such a grandma! Who sleeps at nine?”

“Goodnight!”

You announced, and finally convinced her to give up.

She turned towards the door and closed the lights, before giving you one last look.

“I’m gonna introduce them to you, anyway. When you leave this room, they’ll all know who you are!”

“Sure, whatever.”

“I’m warning you!”

Among the maze you formed with the blanket, you somehow managed to slither your responsive hand out to give her a wave, earning a giggle from her.

“Is that permission granted? Thanks! I won’t disappoint you!”

And with that, the door slammed shut, miniscule particles of dust settling after the impact.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

ive been thinking about witch!steve nonstop since reading this so @intothedysphoria this is dedicated to you for giving me brain worms :)

-

Magic is a sensory nightmare.

That's something they never dwell on in the books, and the TV series, and the movies. It's always this amazing, beautiful thing that, sure, takes a lot of effort but is just so rewarding when mastered. And in all the media magic is cutesy and sweet...

That's not what magic is like, though, and Steve hates it. He hates it because all of his friends wish they were witches, or that they could join a coven for the found family vibes they see in their shows. But that's not what it's like! At least not from Steve's perspective.

"That's bullshit," Steve scoffs, scowling at the screen of whatever today's rom-com is called.

Carol loves a good rom-com, or a bad one, or a mediocre one. He's not even sure if it's ironic, or if it's maybe just to wind him up. But he's so often popped down on her sofa, watching a witch who was definitely not written by an actual magic user stumble through their little meet-cute. Because it's always witches, and it always has been since Carol bought herself a set of tarot cards when they were twelve to see if she had some psychic abilities because 'you don't know that I wasn't adopted and am secretly the long lost daughter of a powerful witch'.

She wasn't, she isn't, and Steve thinks magic-centred rom-coms are the worst thing to ever be invented.

Carol just shushes him, eyes glued to the screen like this is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. And maybe objectively this isn't the worst movie she's forced him to sit through, but it's still grinding his gears.

"But it is! It's bullshit. Messing up a spell doesn't do that."

"Shut up, Steve. It's because she's thinking about Mick, so her subconscious is making the spell pull him towards her."

"But that's not how magic works. A spell doesn't suddenly just turn someone into a magnet because they're thinking about someone else."

Carol lets out a frustrated groan.

Fine, maybe Steve is ruining Carol's fun a bit but it's just so infuriating. Because magic is a sensory nightmare, and fucking up spells is a pain rather than a metaphorical (or sometimes literal; and if Carol ever tries to make him rewatch 'The Valentine's Spell' again he will never talk to her again) cupids arrow come to match them up with their apparent soulmate.

Casting a spell has always been one of Steve's least favourite things. The feeling starts in his hands (because, no, Carol, wands are never a real thing witches use and that's frankly an offensive stereotype that he could infodump the whole history of) as the magic starts to build. Before long the feeling is tingling along his whole arms, taking over their feeling with the force of the spell. And, depending on what spell is being cast, they might go hot, or cold, or heavy, or numb, or shaky. None of those are fun sensations, and therefor casting a spell is not fun and cute and rom-com worthy.

That's without touching on the power building up in his chest, making his heartbeat loud in his ears. And then if one messes a spell up, that energy might burst out potentially dangerously (if the spell is a big one) or simply burrow itself beneath his skin leaving him antsy and stressed and horribly overstimulated and understimulated at the same time.

Really, the fact that the whole ordeal of casting a spell is so unpleasant is the main reason that Steve is such a spectacularly bad witch. He point blank refused to go to any lessons when younger and turned away all his mom's attempts at teaching him herself. He just hated the way it felt. That's the reason he only uses his magic for simple things, and only to prevent a power buildup that a more magically inclined witch may find favourable but that to him just gives the feeling of bugs creeping under his skin.

When he next goes to open his mouth, though, Carol kicks him from her place sprawled on the other side of the sofa. He takes that as his cue that it's time to shut up and just lets Carol watch her garbage.

The movie doesn't get any better.

By the time it's finally over, Steve's impatient scowls at the television had gotten bad enough that Carol just dumped him outside of her place with a harsh goodbye. It's dramatic enough to make him scoff, even though he knows it's 80% an act on Carol's part. She not-so-secretly loves making him suffer through these things, and must find his annoyed commentary at least a little bit amusing to keep dragging him around to watch these things the way she does.

Lost in thought, Steve his halfway home by the time he realises his keys aren't in his pocket.

"Shit," he hisses under his breath.

Great. That’s just great. His parents are off on a business trip again, which is just his luck. Those things are pretty infrequent so of course they’d be out the one time he loses his keys.

And they are lost because Steve had made a panicked grab for them as Carol shoved him out, realising the woman was not going to wait for him to put on his shoes, let alone come back inside to get them. So, he had them when he began the trek home. But they’re not in his pocket now; ergo, he lost them on the way.

With a despondent sigh, Steve turns around and resigns himself to the search for them. It was about time he actually practiced a spell, anyway, he reasons to himself as he begins tracing symbols on the back of his hands and watching the skin there glow. And… there it is. The tingling and the warmth starts up and Steve has to grit his teeth to ignore the way he wants to never touch anything again.

The numbness has crept up to his wrists and his basic tracking spell is almost complete when he collides with the chest. Magic pounds in his chest and the sound of his heartbeat echoes that with a rush of blood in his ears. With a snap, the spell breaks away from him and bursts out, fuelled by the sparking reserves of magic that had built up in him over the last few weeks of refusing to conjure so much as a flicker of light.

Well, shit.

He feels it, when his magic finds something else supernatural to twine itself with, coaxed on my the half-formed potential of a tracking spell. It’s like it hits something solid and forces itself into any cracks and crevices it can find, getting itself stuck there.

When the energy dissipates and Steve can breathe again, he looks up into the glowing golden eyes of the werewolf he slammed face first into. That’s when Steve thinks he might owe Carol and her shitty witch movies an apology, because it turns out maybe magic can turn someone into something like a magnet. It seems like he’s magically tied himself to none other than Billy Hargrove.

-

might expand on this in the future. for now i just needed to get something out lol. witch!steve, werewolf!billy and forced proximity yay

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

So usually, I will discuss posts from reddit and provide screenshots but today I just wanna discuss the post itself. Most of the commenters are calling her out anyway

I'm reusing this throwaway to again avoid connection to my main.

I (38F) have been dating my current boyfriend (36M) for about 2 years now. It's very difficult for me to make long term commitments like this because of issues I've had growing up and with past relationships - however we've been making things work despite my baggage for the most part.

We hit a roadblock in our relationship a week and a half ago. My bf has his own familial baggage: to sum up without going into the nitty gritty his biological mom left him when he was young. They reunited half a year or so ago - and I guess things went ok there? A little bit over a week ago she passed away, and surprisingly he's taken it way harder than I expected. This is the first time I've seen him cry - and to be honest I hate it. I've done my fair share of crying over my years but I've grown past that phase and in the present I'm not sure I enjoy having that energy around.

Things got worse when he found out his bio mom's family would not let him attend her funeral. Because of this, he hasn't worked since to "take his own time to mourn". I've tried to talk to him about it as I don't get why he's exahausting so much effort to mourn someone who has barely been in his life. He's gotten angry with my reaction but he does know I'm not fit to deal with what he's doing at the moment because of my own experiences.

Now that it's been over a week I've grown both worried and annoyed about the situation. I had a sit down with him and another friend two nights ago to talk to him. I'm not one to hold back so I outright told him to just get over the whole thing already and how it isn't normal to react this much to someone who had wronged him so much. Our mutual friend wasn't expecting that - and to be precise she completely failed to mediate the talk from then on.

Some time into our fight he started crying - yet again. I was really uncomfortable and I outright demanded he stop. He had to be removed from our home. He's been staying with our friend since then and I've been really confused on how to approach further. Our friend has told me I was being harsh but again he knows how I am and how I deal with negative emotions. Still talking with her further has gotten me thinking about how I handeled things.

Edit - clarifying things.

This isn't about my bf's masculinity. The way he's acting triggers something in me. It brings me back to a dark place - that's the negativity I can't be around.

My boyfriend has been my emotional rock for most of our relationship - this sudden shift in his attitude is also contributed to my reaction to the whole ordeal.

I'm not heartless, as I said I have a very rough way of displaying my emotions. Genuinely I feel concern about how my boyfriend is acting.

This is so messed up

First of all, she had no business judging him for crying. If it truly brings her to a dark place(/her not being fit to deal with it) then she needs to get herself some help (and I'm not saying that to be snarky) instead of being in a relationship. You can't be in a relationship with someone, having them be there for you (in this case, emotionally) but you can't be there for them. It isn't fair at all. He can't just be her emotional rock while she doesn't do anything in return.

She also has no business judging him for why he's mourning. He's obviously torn up about it. Maybe he's mourning for the relationship he didn't get to have. Maybe they planned on further patching things up. Whatever it is, she has no right to act like he shouldn't be grieving, especially when she knows he isn't even allowed to attend the funeral.

And then for her to become annoyed--not cool, not okay. How do you just tell someone, a week after their loved one passed, to get over it? How? You don't just suddenly become okay again after a little bit of time passes by. Grief is hard and can be overwhelming. It's harder if you're in a situation like this with an unsupportive S/O.

The kicker is that she demanded him to stop crying and kicked him out. That is abhorrent.