#ant behaviors yet again

[pippindot]

Goils on their mats at dinner last night. Edi spilled water all over Pip's mat due to running around like an ant.

[blindmagdalena]

Center Stage in a Gilded Cage

18+ 3k. homelander x f!reader. pre-s1. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, forced relationship, slow burn, somnophilia, drugging, eventual smut. gif | AO3 | fanfic directory

Homelander was born with only one terrible poverty: loneliness. He's been starved of love his entire life, made sick by his hunger for it, but he believes you might have the cure. If you want to survive, you'll find a way to give it to him.

Homelander has never been able to understand people who bird watch. Of all the things a mundane person could do with their abysmally mediocre life, why devote what little free time they have to observing a creature even more dull than they themselves are?

Perhaps it's the gift of flight. By far, it is the ability of his that garners the most attention. Or maybe it's the power trip one experiences when observing something simpler and weaker than yourself for sport. The novelty of becoming endeared by their strange little behaviors and quirks. It's this line of thinking that eventually walks Homelander down the path of people watching. During his downtime, in the quiet moments he spends perched atop skyscrapers and apartment complexes, he finds himself watching the people miles below him scurry about like insects through a colony.

Over time, he begins to recognize regulars. People moving back and forth, day in and day out, no different than ants moving grains back and forth. He has to laugh. It's no wonder god abandoned man. Man is fucking boring.

Even the god they made for themselves thinks so.

To ease the monotony, he concocts little stories for the ones he recognizes. He imagines the kinds of lives they live outside of their commutes and the routines he observes. He names one of them Peter, and every day he invents a new reason Peter is yet again running late for his train. Because he's always late, Peter never stops for the woman selling street meat on the corner across from the station.

Homelander imagines that the meat she peddles is people, and that she's got her eye on that speedy little rabbit, Peter.

And then one day, he notices you.

It isn’t that you��re especially beautiful or noteworthy. Just like all the other busy little bees, you go about your same routine each and every day of the week. Sometimes you're in a rush, other times you enjoy your stroll. Regardless, you always find time to stop and give money to the same homeless man occupying one of the few alleyways protected by an awning. Sometimes you linger to chat, other times you can only stop long enough to drop something into his hands.

It isn't always money. Oftentimes you have food for him packed neatly into a little take-out box. Despite the packaging, it looks homemade. You always have a warm smile for him, even when you’re obviously frazzled.

To the rest of the world, this man may as well be fucking invisible, but here you are handing him a box of home cooked food like he's someone who matters. Homelander is the world's greatest hero, and yet some bum on the street is being fed with more love and attention to detail than he ever has.

It's a goddamn joke. More and more, it becomes apparent to him that you’re pathetically lonely. After a few days of observing you amongst the others, he starts trailing you more actively, forgetting all about Peter and his eventual butcher.

He wants to know more about you.

You live alone, working and cooking for only yourself and your stray pet. Sometimes you cook for your coworkers or the odd friend who stops by before leaving you alone all over again. He watches from a distance while you toil away, cooking more food than you’ll eat in a week for people you see for a fraction of each of your weekdays. It couldn’t be more obvious that you’re desperate for someone to take care of.

In a way, he can relate. 

Maeve has been more distant than ever, choosing to engage him only when there’s a camera present. When it’s only the two of them, she just drinks until he barely recognizes her. Madelyn has begun her “fertility journey,” words that set his teeth on edge, and has barely had a real moment to spare him as of late. The rest of his team doesn’t help abate his loneliness either; Marathon is a washed up hack who can barely sprint these days, Lamplighter is only ever interested in clubbing, the Deep couldn’t hold a conversation in a bucket, and Noir is a mute.

And so he soothes his solitude with thoughts of you. When he isn’t with you, he daydreams about it, imagining what life would look like if your worlds were to intersect. The more he learns about you, the more vivid his fantasies become, and the more intensely he aches when he still finds himself alone in his bed at the end of each night.

It spurs him to visit you more and more.

One particularly warm summer night, you leave your window wide open. He takes it for the invitation it is, drifting towards it under the cover of dark. Your screen is loose and pops out noiselessly. Not exactly safe, even if you do live on the fifth storey.

You just never know what might come lurking out of the shadows.

Slipping into your living room, he’s met with the sound of white noise playing from your bedroom. Is it the sound of the streets below that bother you? You’d never hear it from his penthouse a hundred feet in the air. You could leave the windows open all you like and hear only the roar of the sky, not unlike the ocean waves your phone is poorly mimicking.

He could take you to the actual ocean. A beach house far away from the buzzing neon lights and incessant honking and revving of traffic. Walking through your apartment, he makes his way to your tiny kitchen. The one in his penthouse puts yours to absolute shame, and yet the only thing in it that’s ever been used is the fridge. He’s certain he’s never opened the double oven or so much as turned on the gas range. Meanwhile, your kitchen is riddled with use, each cupboard stuffed with mismatched cookware and the like. It smells of grease and spices and love.

The sad irony of it is almost too much to stomach. You don’t belong in this cramped little sardine can. You should be in a proper kitchen. 

You should be cooking for him. The thought comes to him like a flash of genius. Of course. That’s the answer that will solve both of your little dilemmas. If he is a bird watcher then you’re a songbird snared in a net. It would be inhumane of him to leave you to die before you’re ever appreciated–ever seen–by anyone who matters.

You would worship him for rescuing you. His wealth and power would see each and every one of your material needs met with ease. You would never work for anything again. All you would ever have to concern yourself with was being loved and loving him.

He walks to your room with a hand pressed absently over his heart, cradling the anxious little bundle of nerves that have gathered there. He can tell by your breathing that you’re deep asleep, and yet he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he approaches.

His first time being so near to you after weeks of simply observing.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he steps towards you. The sound of him is masked by the ambient noise spilling from your phone, not to mention the fan you have pointed directly at your bed in a desperate attempt to save yourself from the summer heat.

You clearly weren’t built for this paltry life. Mary was no one before God chose her for greatness. Is that not what he’s about to do for you? It’s the will of a god that elevates you.

He kneels by your bedside, bringing himself face to face with you. Your breathing is even, each huff smelling faintly of mint. Your lips look soft, slightly parted in sleep. Everything about you is gentler, more relaxed than you ever are in the day to day grind of your life.

You could look like this all the time without it. He has the power to change your entire life with nothing more than a couple of numbers shifting from one space to another. Money has always been inconsequential to him, so abundant that it hardly means anything anymore. You, however, are ruled by it.

For the first time in his life, he recognizes the power in his wealth.

He brushes the tips of his gloved fingers along your cheek, down your jaw. He’s never used his hands so tenderly as when he traces your sleeping eyelids with his fingertips, imagining what dreams chase behind them and make them flutter.

You don’t stir. 

Emboldened, he follows the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb, imagining how soft you would feel against the bare pad of his finger. Leaning in closer, he indulges in the warmth of your breath tickling his lips. You’re a sound sleeper, the thud of your resting heart beating steadily in his ear.

Closing his eyes, he bridges the distance between your lips, pressing his own lightly to yours. For a second, he thinks he’s woken you, that you’ve caught sight of him and your heart is drumming loudly in his ears. He draws sharply back, but sees that you’re still deep asleep, your features peaceful.

It’s his heart that’s racing, a thundering sound that blocks out every other noise in the room. He’s breathing shallowly, excited in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. There’s a flush crawling up his throat, and it’s at that moment he breaks out into a wide, wondrous smile.

There’s no question of it now.

He has to have you.

The plan to acquire you ends up requiring very little setup. If Madelyn cares why Homelander’s suddenly spending so much, she’s yet to make a comment. 

Bitterly, he thinks it likely that she’s glad to see him distracted. 

He starts preparation by appropriately stocking his kitchen; you’ll appreciate the supply of ingredients, he knows. The quality of what he obtains for you is leagues above what you can afford, as is the cookware. He buys you new clothes, jewelry, imagining every step of the way how you’ll look in each piece. How you’ll look as he takes them off. He’s seeking to upgrade your life in every conceivable way, like bringing a cat home from the pound and teaching it the meaning of luxury.

You’ll want for nothing. You’ll be so grateful to him. And you, the sweet and perfect little thing that you are, make yourself painfully easy to ensnare. You come home under the cover of dark like clockwork, perfectly oblivious to his approach. You’ve just managed to fish your keys out of your bag when his hand closes a kerchief over your mouth and nose, stifling your cry. His other arm slips around your waist, holding you steady. The cloth smells overly sweet, ether-like, and though that scent has no effect on him, you respond to it almost immediately.  “Shhhhshhshh,” he soothes, letting the anesthesia do its job. Fuck, you feel good in his arms, back held tight to his chest, your delicate hands prying at his wrist as you kick, claw and scream–albeit muffled–into the cloth. He holds you with ease, keeping you close to his body, angling you in such a way that you won’t hurt yourself.

Despite your tenacity, you fight a losing battle. Your efforts grow weaker and weaker as you lose your grip on consciousness. He hushes you all the while, encouraging you. “That’s it, let it go. I’ve got you, I’ve got you...” Finally your head falls back against his shoulder, your face lolling into the crook of his neck, the rest of your body falling slack in his arms. He pulls the cloth away from your mouth, tucking it into your bag for now. He turns his head to yours, lips barely ghosting along your forehead. He takes in a deep breath of you, his eyes falling shut. Beneath the sickly sweet smell of the chemical mixture he knocked you out with, he can smell the remnants of your perfume. It’s not his favorite fragrance, but the underlying warm scent of you is intoxicating. He’ll collect whatever belongings you decide you want with you when he returns, if anything, but he doubts you’ll miss much. Your stuff will seem like a heap of rags and garbage by comparison. He’s looking forward to how the perfumes and lotions he’s bought you will smell on your skin, and how you’ll look in the clothing he’s picked for you. He adjusts you into a bridal carry in his arms and gently kicks off from the ground, holding you firm to his chest. The city is beautiful at night, a landscape of stars mirroring that of the sky above it. He’s always loved it here, and yet he’s shared it with a painful few.

Madelyn never lets him take her to the skies. Maeve had been wowed initially, but she had quickly grown disillusioned with it. With him.

You’ll be different. The trip back to his penthouse feels agonizingly slow, but he maintains a lesser pace to keep the wind from rashing your skin, savoring the featherlight weight of you in his arms at last. He lands deftly on his balcony, stepping through his open reinforced glass doors. After laying you down in his bed, he takes a moment to slip off your shoes, setting them aside. He eases your purse off of your shoulder, and places it on the nightstand. After sprawling a thin blanket over you, he takes a step back and puts his hands on his hips to admire the perfectly domestic scene he’s set.

Slowly, he breaks out into a smile. His bed swallows you up, makes you look small and lonely. He’s the missing piece, of course. He’s already looking forward to seeing himself complete the picture in the mirror above you. He imagines coming home to you like this, curled up in his–no, your shared bed, blanket pulled up over your shoulders to block the chill left by his absence.

Oh, how you’ll miss him when he’s gone.

You’ll have nothing and no one to concern yourself with except for him. No burdens, no dread, no stress. You’ll live in peace and security the likes of which you can scarcely imagine, spoiled rotten by the bounty of all that he is.

Neither of you will ever be lonely again.

Tilting his head slightly, he listens to the sound of you. Your breathing is shallow, the beat of your heart steady. Normal people don’t realize it, don’t have the capacity for it, but a heartbeat is as distinct as a fingerprint. Over the years, he’s learned to read them as such. He’s memorized yours. There isn’t much for him to do in the time that you’re asleep. He knows precisely how long you’ll be out; the anesthesia blend he gave you was straight out of Vought’s lab, and the dose he gave you leaves him with at least an hour before the two of you meet properly. The anticipation is enough to make him giddy. For all that Homelander knows about you, there is plenty he does not. The externals of your life have only provided him so much, but that will come in time. He didn’t bother with perusing your social media accounts, not being particularly proficient in them himself. 

Besides, he wants getting to know you to be an organic experience.

He remembers to take your phone out of your bag and dispose of that rag he used to dose you while he’s at it. He unlocks your phone the way he’s seen you do a dozen times before, and spends some time ensuring that no one will be expecting you anywhere any time soon. All it takes is one quick email and you no longer have a job. A few social media posts later, you’ve informed anyone who might think of you that you’ll be enjoying an impromptu sabbatical in Europe.

The power of technology. After that, he pops your phone into the safe behind one of the dozens of portraits on his wall.

When he hears you starting to stir, renewed butterflies start fluttering about in his stomach. You have no idea that your entire life–no, your entire perception of reality–is about to change. No more dodgy commutes, no more living paycheck-to-paycheck. You’ll be free to admire the world from the lap of luxury–his lap, to be specific. You make a quiet moan, the chemical fog wearing off gradually. He moves swiftly to your bedside, primed with a welcoming smile, hands on his hips. “Riiiise and shine, sleepyhead,” he coaxes, leaning forward at the waist. Still disoriented from the drugs in your system, you stare at him as if you’re dreaming. He doesn’t blame you. In almost every other reality, there’s no explanation for the fact you’re seeing America’s favorite hero, the Homelander, standing above you. He knows the side effects of the drug have left a strange buzzing in your ears, and that your tongue likely feels heavy and cottony. He’s already got water for you on the bedside table. “Home…lander?” You manage to get out. His smile broadens. That’s the first time he’s heard you say his name. You look cute like this, bleary-eyed and needy. He’s grown accustomed to seeing you as a put together provider, self-sufficient and tending to the needs of those around you, but rarely your own. Seeing you unraveled feels like a secret intimacy for him alone. “The one and only,” he preens. Now that you’ve seen him posed valiantly by your side, he takes a seat on the bed next to you, reaching out to brush his gloved knuckles along your forehead. He attributes the slight flinch to your drug addled confusion. Poor thing. If he’d had an alternative to using a sedative, he would have preferred that.

Not that it matters now. You’re finally here.

( chapter two )

[aquasarsstuff]

Arrange Marriage ft. Lilia Vanrouge x reader part 1, part 2, part 3

Tags: Lilia is a flirt, reader is easily flustered, romance, twisted wonderland au, series, fluff, historical au, my longest fic

Summary: Lilia convinces you to go out on a date with him.

Masterlist

---

"Again, what exactly are you here for?" you dusted the crumbs off your lap, letting it fall to the floor, and inevitably for the ants to consume.

"I was looking for a very specific herbs, last night," he pondered for a bit, as if trying to recall his memories from the previous night. You leaned on your chair, expecting to hear another story of his chaotic adventure.

"For a potion?"

He shook his head, "I intended to use it for a new dish, but instead, I stumbled upon a picturesque spot in the mountain." You wince, and here you thought you've already diverted the talk away from culinary.

"You... went there in the middle of the night?" You looked at him from your seat. "Are you sure you weren't seeing things or just being tricked at?"

"Pray tell, what led you to such conclusions?" he took another piece of sweets on the plate, munching them to his heart's content.

"Well... I heard faes are more likely to appear there, after the sun sets and play tricks at humans," you said, a little worried.

"Are you scared of such creatures? Isn't your fiancé one too? Who knows? He might be listening," he poke around, teasing you.

"I would've have probably caught a generation curse if he did," you grimaced at the thought, remembering how vengeful and petty they are if provoke, or rather according to what you've heard from people.

He couldn't helped but burst out laughing, making you look at him. There was a generous filling spread around the skin, near his lips. You can't helped but sigh at how messy he looks. You would've irked at the sight, if he was just some people you don't know. You stood up from you seat and pulled out a handkerchief out of your pocket. While he was busy enjoying the sweet treat, you took the chance to grab his chin to face you. You casually wiped off the fillings from his face, that you didn't noticed how his eyes widen as saucers. When you raised your eyes to meet his, it was now looking at you lidded and filled with mischief.

"Touching me now casually, are we? Do be careful, I don’t want to get the rough end of the stick, by having your prince after me."

You pushed him away, embarrassed at your own actions. He just let out a small laugh, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Shut up," you retorted. "I just can't stand such behavior in front of me. For someone who keeps complaining about aggravating my fiancé, you sound way too happy."

He hums in return. "Alright, if you say so."

"Just continue what you wanted to tell me earlier," you waved your hand at him, sitting on your seat previously. You closed your eyes at how hard your heart was contracting between your lungs. If you didn't put up an end to his teasing far earlier, one of your vital organs might have exploded.

"The stars look absolutely stunning in there, like someone in here."

"And then?"

"I was eager to show it to you, so I came here as fast as I could," he smiled at you gently.

You looked at him, as if he just said the most ridiculous thing ever. "It's Horse Hour currently. The only star available at the moment is too stunning that'll it make me blind."

"Awh, that was a mean thing to say to the ball of life," he pouted.

"Besides, father is in the house. He hasn't visited my room yet, but he often makes rounds in my room in random intervals. He might have different thoughts if he caught me again, gone here. I don’t want him to enforce even more stricter rules for me."

"I've been here since morning, and I can assure you that I haven't come across your father or caught a glimpse of his presence."

"What?" you said abnormally calm, despite reeling in shock. "What were you doing all these hours?" he brought a forefinger to your lips, shutting you down.

"I only know the way to your room, so I went to every room to pull of this perfect disguise. Now, come on. Do I still need to get on my knees, to get you to say yes?" he smirked at you, taking a hold of your palms. His touch was unexpectedly cold to the touch, despite of the fiery sun outside.

"Not without a ring," you pulled your hand away from him, flustered at his actions. "Get out."

"Throwing me out already? It took great effort to devise and even accomplished the heist, you know? I'm not letting the treasure get out of my sights, when it is in front of me. I'm not one to missed chances, sweetcheeks," he whispered in your ears, appearing behind you, in a blink of an eye.

One of your eyes twitched. "I need to get dress," you firmly said.

"I can just turn my back. I promise I won't take a peek."

"No," you were about to push him to door, when he spun around like a basketball and bounced to the window stool. He took a quick looked behind him and winked at you before leaping out. You stood in your room, shocked. It's a wonder he still hasn't broke a limb or two with his random stunts.

Lilia whistle, waiting for you. He sensed something move behind him and saw you threw a long fabric down from your window.

"You can just jump to my arms, sweetcheeks!" he looked up. Your feet sat still on your window, but due to some carvings you overlooked, you slip down. Your heart leaped from your chest. Scared of the upcoming pain, you closed your eyes, but instead. you felt yourself floating in the air. You snapped your eyes open, only to see the petite man carrying you with a smile.

"And what did I just say earlier?" he brought you down to your feet. "You could've had a terrible concussion."

"Thanks," you meekly said. Your heart now continued to beat erratically for a different reason. You swear, he's gonna be the death of you sooner or later.

---

[carionto]

The Equality Games

Once every now and then, the Galactic Coalition's Cultural Exchange department holds a large digital competitive event.

Anyone can participate, and to level the playing field, contestants aren't the ones who actually compete, but instead an advanced deep brain scan (or equivalent body part) and an unbiased AI create a digital avatar that represents the individual and autonomously acts within the digital space.

The cognitive capacity of each is analyzed to a near perfect level and a highly complicated algorithm that, honestly, nobody understands, even the AI that built it, then creates this avatar with traits and weaknesses based on an even more incomprehensible set of criteria and internal points system.

To put it simply - the scan identifies nearly every calculable aspect of a person and assigns a point value for each, then uses those points to "buy" the most relevant and appropriate traits from within its list to give the avatar. There are changing costs, negative value "flaws", and prerequisites based on other information from the scan, but basically it is the most convoluted TTRPG character creation ruleset ever devised.

Given the enormous complexity and diversity that individuals from across thousands of races exhibit, until this system was invented, it was thought impossible to have a sort of intergalactic Olympic Games. There were many attempts over the eons, of course, but one factor or another always made it so that someone did not accept the results.

The Equality Games, however, earned respect and acceptance as a valid alternative once the underlying system was demonstrated and people started to play with it. The avatars were made to act autonomously due to how some species had a distinct advantage when manipulating a digital interface, thus bringing up the old arguments yet again.

One curious result of the AI algorithm avatar generator is that it quite frequently created multiple avatars for each person, only the more hive-mind-like species tended to be represented by a singular avatar within the Games. It is theorized, again because nobody can understand how it really works, that most intelligent beings have multiple "personas" i.e. distinct behavior and personalities in certain common situations, primarily a "public" and "private" persona.

In fact, it is most common for everyone to generate about a three to five avatar "team" that represents the one individual. In comparison, if an ant were to get scanned and put in the games, its avatar would be a single incredibly powerful avatar with many deficiencies, but an overwhelming advantage in several disciplines.

When Humans first entered the Games, as expected, they too had teams as avatars. What was not expected, was that these avatars would sometimes work alone instead of together as a team, deliberately not help one another, and even engage in infighting and the sabotage of another "self".

The Humans suggested that it is perhaps because hypocrisy is not uncommon among them. Self destructive tendencies also appear rather frequently. These Humans almost always are themselves surprised by how contradictory their avatar team composition ends up being.

While the Games themselves happened as normal, the Humans overall placed in the top 20% brackets of most competitive challenges, and scattered roughly evenly everywhere else, they then approached us with a most unusual request.

"Give us a copy of this AI algorithm scanner thing. We think this is the most revolutionary therapy and psychological diagnosis device we've come across."

Of course we obliged and helped set up centers in a number of stations and on Earth itself.

Last we heard, some Humans have avatars that are singular nigh-nightmarish monstrosities, while a very tiny fraction have minds so splintered that their avatars are teams of dozens, one time even over a hundred distinct versions of themselves. Then there are even some seemingly regular Humans who broke the scanner - it gave the error: "Only one individual can be scanned at a time."

Upon "fixing" it with a hack, the results for those were unheard of. Two distinct avatars. Not a team of two, but by all accounts, the AI algorithm identified two separate individuals within one mind, each with very little in common with the other. Sometimes there was nothing in common, even their digital visual representation.

The mind is incredibly complex and hard to comprehend. The Human mind, while biologically quite peculiar but not outside the realms of understood evolution, neurologically it seems to hold near limitless diversity, both complimentary, contradictory, and beyond.

[decembercamiecherries]

Hi! I'd like to know what are your favorite Killugon fanfics that have touched your soul?

oooooooooo touched my soul.........that's a pretty big ask, anon!

I love talking about killugon fics though haha so here they are! I'm classifying 'touched my soul' as the fics that made my whole chest ache the most intensely out of all the killugon stories I've read whether that be from angst or fluff or whatever.

(Warning: some of these fics contain mature/explicit content so pls check the tags if you want to read them)

playdespacityo's Getting You Back and Reunion and what comes after - both are aged up post canon aus, and they both easily made my list of fav killugon fics after I finished reading them due to the excellent mix of fluff/hurt/comfort/possessive behavior/etc.

luftballoon99's your heart on the line - similar to the above this is a aged up post canon au but it's a one shot, deals with a lot of feels in the sense that Killua is struggling with trusting Gon again after everything that happened in the Chimera Ant arc but he also is so very in love with him that it hurts.

@cyberflamingo's Double-Edged Crown - royalty au in which the kingdom is trying to find a spouse for the prince and Killua disguises himself as Alluka to spare her the trouble from going to the capital and Gon ends up as his assigned guard, this fic has everything I could ever ask for from badass Killua to smitten Gon and incredibly realistic action scenes and a chemistry between Gon and Killua that had me on the edge of my seat.

@xyliane's From Stardust to Stars - futuristic sci-fi space au about Gon and Killua graduating high school and Gon deciding to go into a program that will send him into space while Killua stays on Earth, it's a very cool fic not only because of the worldbuilding but also because it is written out of order and yet the intense pining/heartbreak/adoration Gon and Killua feel for each other is so present throughout and yeah I literally cry every time I read this fic but I will never forget how beautiful it is.

[exhaslo]

I HATE Retail.

So, quick summary.

This old lady comes in and my coworker spots her first. She tells the lady to give her just a second bc she was helping someone else. I enter the paint pit and saw the lady and asked if she needed help. The lady was talking to me in Spanish and I had to tell her, "One second, let me get someone to translate"

I maybe spanish, but I dont speak a lick of it. Only Japanese.

So, as Im calling someone to come over and translate, the women huffs and leaves. Like okay? The translator comes over, spots the woman two aisles away and we are trying to motion her over. We can only take orders at the one computer.

The lady refuses to move and demands we get her white paint. So the translator is asking her, "What brand? How shiny?" the normal questions. This lady still demands in a rude fucking tone just white paint.

Finally, my coworker comes over and tells the lady that we have to take the order on the computer. We cant read minds like wtf. So the lady storms over and demands white paint. AGAIN we keep asking for shine and whatnot. This takes 4 minutes bc she keeps telling us to just grab something.

We can't do that. The customer needs to be the only to pick. So finally she slams her finger on Eggshell. So I go to grab a gallon, then she bitches about a 5-gallon. So I go to grab the 5 gallon, shake it up and told her husband it was ready befpre helping my coworker out with her 6 5-gallon order.

Fast forward 10 min, one of my managers comes to me and asks if I yelled at a lady and gave her the wrong paint. I explained everything to him and NO WHERE IN THE CONVO DID THE LADY SAY CEILING PAINT.

LIKE THAT IS A DIFFERENT STORY AND PAINT.

So he drops it bc the lady was being dramatic about how she was gonna faint bc we yelled at her. Blah blah blah

Fast forward like an hour. Im helping a different customer and I see a different manager by paint. I ignore it until this lady storms in front of me and my customer and says,

"YOU NEED TO PICK ON SOMEBODY YOUR OWN SHAPE AND SIZE! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU INSULT AND SCREAM AT MY MOTHER! YOU ARE DISGUSTING-"

"Ma'am, I have no idea what you're talking about," I try to tell her.

"DON'T YOU GIVE ME THAT SHIT. YOU TREAT MY MOM LIKE SHIT YOU FUCKING BITCH. YOU ARE FUCKING RUDE AND DISGUSTING SO FUCK YOU!"

"Fuck you too." I snapped bc who the FUCK does this bitxh think she is?

Even my customer was shocked. I then saw the lady from earlier fucking crying. Like are you actually shitting me?

I GET YELLED AT! I GET TREATED LIKE SHIT BUT GOD FORBID I SAY SOMETHING!

IF I SAY SOMETHING THEN I'M IN THE WRONG.

I was seething. I called my supervisor and she stormed over along with another manager. Note, the daughter is HUNTING for my coworker and the translator bc she needs to fight someone.

Honey, you're mom is a fucking liar and she isnt a saint.

Once they left the managers all came to me to ask what happened and I just started crying. Like they will always take the customer's side no matter how wrong they are. I only said one thing to the fucking lady and that was I was getting a translator, but yet Im the one who gets cussed out?

I'm not mad about being yelled at. Im more mad that I cpuldnt say anything back. Bc all these companies only care about the customer.

They treat the customers like gods and we just have to shut up and take their shit like we're ants. Im sick of it. Im sick of all of it.

I'm sorry, unpopualr opinion, but customer service doesnt mean shit. You're either going to buy at the store you are going to or your not. We need to stop treating customers like they are angels bc it just fuels their entilted behavior.

I need a fucking drink now.

Thanks for letting me vent. Have a great day.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

(hi uh sorry i sent that ask very prematurely on accident could you delete the previous one? sorry i just had to rephrase it-)

i was wondering if you were interested in doing a Sozo x reader fic (GN preferably) where the reader tries to help Sozo kick his mushroom habit (as you have done before but i would really like some more in-depth mental support for ant boy) or at least help him not to lose himself even more. This next part includes spoilers for the Sins of the Flesh update so if you haven't played that feel free to wait or skip this part. I would especially like to see his Dr. Sozonius personality starting to shine through again as he gains more clarity, kinda nerding out on mushroom stuff but also extremely sorry for everything he did while under the influence of the Mushrooms

YEAH SOZO REDEMPTION ARC <3

.....

"I promise...no more shrooms...please.."

"I'm sorry, my dear. I just can't take your word for it." Sighing, you gazed hopelessly at your spouse: the belligerent ant locked up in the pillory for the third straight day now, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

This all started after you returned to Spore Grotto one evening, finding the Mushroomos there in a panic, one of them eventually leading you to the inside of Sozo's "home".

He had succumbed to the infection, as his body was laying there in such a grotesque display, covered in fungi and rotting away. Of course, the followers didn't know what to do and begged you to bring Lamb back here, as they haven't visited this place in a while.

At first you didn't want to, thinking they were the reason he was dead. You assumed he was still giving him mushrooms behind your back when you specifically told them not to do that, explaining how you're trying to get him to stop. You made him promise not to consume anymore.

It had to be Lamb's fault.

But the Mushroomos revealed something quite shocking: since he wasn't getting mushrooms, he turned to eating them all alive to satisfy his needs instead, unable to stop. The parasite that held him hostage demanded it so.

And it ended up killing him.

You grieved for a little while, before seeking out Lamb and asking if they could accompany you to Spore Grotto, explaining what happened. Yet by the time you both returned, there was hardly anything left of Sozo's body.

Nothing except his skeleton, backpack, and the smiling mushroom.

You decided to take the large fungi back to their cult, carrying it as a sort of "ironic" memento of your lover.

During the walk back, Lamb asked you if Sozo had a life before this addiction of his...and you tell them something rather surprising.

He was actually once a brilliant man: Dr. Sozonius. His research on mushrooms was known all throughout the Old Faith. He's written books, lived with family members in an ant colony, and was very wise. You two fell in love through your research and explored Anura together.

Then he brought you to his camp at Spore Grotto, the very heart and soul of Anura's fungal outbreak. He was studying the Mushroomos and their behavior patterns. They were actually very passive and social creatures, offering you two stews of menticide mushrooms.

You declined, having already ate before your journey. But Sozonius--thrilled to discover a new mushroom specimen--decided to indulge in their generosity for the sake of science.

And things haven't been the same since.

Something in that soup took root in his brain and turned him into a shadow of his former self.

He never came back to the colony, or the home you two shared, devoting himself entirely to all things mushroom-related...while that stupid smiling fungi puppeteered him around. Some days you'd visit him, and he does remember you, but as of late he's been forgetting more and more of your lives together, giggling and not taking any of your words seriously.

He tried getting you to bring him mushrooms, eat them, etc. and if you refused, his eyes turned red and he'd start yelling nonsense.

Despite all of this, you never once blamed the Mushroomos. They were only trying to be kind hosts; they didn't expect such an advanced fungi to take control of him and turn him into their "leader".

After he died, most of them dispersed throughout Anura, but some stayed behind in the hope of seeing you again.

Once you finished sharing your story, Lamb was surprised that you wanted to take the fungi back at all. They figured you'd burn it to ashes for what it did to your husband.

Yet....you didn't blame it either.

Mushrooms aren't inherently evil. It's how nature made them, and you're a strong believer in karma, deciding to instead nurture this one in hopes that it may grow into something better.

Who would've known that mentality would bring Sozo back to you a week later?

Unfortunately, as you anticipated, he was still up to his old habits and never fully understood that they killed him. He tore up the mushroom farm plots and ate any Mushroomos Lamb rescued during their crusades.

Least to say..he was being an utter nuisance in the cult. He never did any work, and none of the followers liked him.

But that's not how he really was.

You knew him better than anybody else.

Ultimately you and Lamb realized that you had to break this addiction of his for good, otherwise the cycle will just repeat..and you might lose him all over again.

Talking to him wasn't enough.

He had to go cold turkey.

Sozo got angry when you shielded a Mushroomo from his bloodlust and told them to hide in the temple, accusing you of denying him happiness and saying he'd rather be put back in the ground than look at you--and that's when Lamb locked him up in the pillory while distracted.

As much as his words hurt..you knew it was only the fungi talking, trying to trick you into thinking that's what he was feeling. But you weren't so easily fooled.

You had to starve it out.

Might it kill him, too? There's a good chance. But you had to try.

Ever since getting imprisoned, he's been shouting and begging passing followers to free him all day and all night, the fungi looking more withered as time went on. Even its smile turned upside down.

Lamb tried using the same reeducation techniques they used on dissenters. Yet they weren't quite sure how to help Sozo, as he babbled over their speeches and wanted them to go away.

You offered to take over instead, and while they hesitated..they eventually handed you a copy of one of their gospel books and said they'd pray for his healing.

If anyone could get through to him, it was you.

For a while you've kept a close eye on him, making sure he had food--all of which you cooked yourself in case anyone tried sneaking in mushrooms. He no longer screamed his head off, but he still tried bargaining with you to free him, each plea growing weaker than the last.

By the time the sun went down, most of the followers were heading to their sleeping quarters for the night--although a couple were having some concoctions at the drinkhouse. But they could usually hold their liquor and not get too befuddled, so you weren't worried about them.

Instead you just focused on Sozo..who was already looking tired. Your energy was very much spent, too, although you didn't wanna abandon him.

Alas Lamb had no moon necklaces to spare, and even if they did...they would hesitate to give it to you.

Speaking of whom, you heard their footsteps and glanced over, smiling. "Hello, Lamb."

"You can go rest, [y/n]." They nodded. "I'll watch over him for you."

"...alright." Sighing, you closed the book and looked back at your spouse, placing a hand on his cheek as you kissed the opposite one. "Sweet dreams, Sozo. For what it's worth..I'm blessed you are back on this earth with me. I promise to keep helping you."

"[Y/n]...loves Sozo that much..huh?" He huffed, sleepily opening his eyes, and you were astonished to see that they were no longer red like the eyes of dissenters.

Even so, you weren't letting your hopes get up too high. He still had a long path ahead of him.

"Of course. There's no one I love more than you. I just hope and pray...that you haven't forgotten the love you felt for me."

As you parted from his side and began walking back to the Lamb, you were confused by their dumbfounded expression. "What? Was I supposed to say-?"

"Look." They pointed behind you, and you turned back around, gawking at what you were seeing.

The fungi had completely decayed, falling off Sozo's head into a withering husk in the grass; the smaller fungi buried in his collar died off, too. It didn't cause him any pain, surprisingly enough.

Then you looked directly at his face, noticing signs of him aging rapidly judging by the wrinkles and graying furs of his collar.

But he was still alive.

And he was back to his old self.

"Wh..Where am I? Where is...my family?" His voice was quiet and raspy as he looked around, confused by the wooden contraption he was locked in.

However once he saw your face, he recognized you and smiled, feeling at total ease.

"Oh, my love. You're back."

"I-I never left.." Tears immediately blurred your vision as you rushed to unlock the pillory. "I was here the whole time. I thought you were gone forever..."

"I hope I didn't go too far." He hummed, although he felt an ache in his back from being hunched over for so long and winced. Lamb was quick to fetch him a cane so he could better support himself, but you looped your arm around one of his own to help.

"Thank you, you're very kind.." He gazed at the sheep. "My name is Dr. Sozonius. We were...studying the Mushroomos. Fascinating creatures, they are. Neither plant nor animal. They gave my partner [y/n] and I some menticide mushrooms...and.....that's the last thing I remember.." He frowned slightly.

'Ah..so he doesn't know...' You realized, but you kept your worries pushed down, too happy to care about any of that right now.

"I can't help but feel that I have you to thank for...something." He continued, smiling at Lamb. "You have my loyalty. I will remain here and serve you."

They smiled back and bowed their head respectfully. "Thank you, doctor. Welcome back."

..........

While it was such a relief to see Sozonius' sanity restored, it wasn't too long before he ended up becoming bedridden, his bones too weak to support him anymore.

You realized that the fungi somehow managed to disguise his true age, as Lamb discovered he was actually 100 years old via mindreading--making him the eldest follower in the natural sense.

Now you feared losing him again..just when you finally got him back, and wondered if Lamb could do something to help.

Sure, resurrecting him may be the easiest option, but it would be the most painful for you. They couldn't put you through that, as it would take a few days for them to be ready for the ritual.

Luckily they managed to find a quick solution:

A fountain of youth in the form of a simple egg dish.

After Sozonius ate it, the magical properties somehow reversed the clock, giving him back the energy he needed to help out with cult duties. And you didn't have to worry about losing each other again, as Lamb gifted you two golden skull necklaces as a "belated" wedding gift.

Of course, the ant was ever jubilant about his mushroom studies and continued to pursue them alongside you--in a far more controlled environment, obviously. He was allowed to tend to the plots and observe how their effects impact followers during brainwashing rituals, although he was forbidden from tasting one himself or participating in those..

At least for right now.

Even though it's been about a week since he was "cured", the few Mushroomos that lived on the cult grounds were still fretful upon seeing him, thinking he was going to eat them alive.

The one you defended couldn't believe that he was genuinely sorry and not under the fungi's influence anymore.

They were so terribly scared that Lamb mentioned that they gained a "cowardly" trait, always flinching upon you, them, or Sozonius approaching, begging to be spared from....some nonexistent threat they made up in their head. They tried to please you two how ever they could, yet were easily frightened by him simply breathing around them.

Your husband was confused until you clarified that he ruled over the Mushroomos for a long time, cannibalizing them and making threats should they fail to bring him more mushrooms--but he found it hard to fathom that he'd ever do such a thing and abandon you and his family..

Even so, he felt guilty and hoped to make things right.

.........

It was late at night when you and Sozonius were having some light brews at the drinkhouse, feeling relaxed but not entirely befuddled.

He was rambling about some of his latest discoveries in mycology, and you listened with such a loving gaze in your eyes, smiling so big your face was starting to hurt.

You were so, so grateful he came back to you..and that Lamb could save him.

But one particular Mushroomo, however, arrived in hopes of drinking their worries away...and instead found you two at the counter, disappointed.

They tried to sneak away, although Sozonius spotted them and whistled. "You, Mushroomo! Come sit with us." He offered. "We don't bite."

"Eek! I-I mean, of course Mast---I mean Sozo..I-I mean....urrgh!!" Already they were fumbling over their words, scratching at their mushroom cap and sweating. "S-Sorry, sorry! AH!" They nearly tripped over a rock on their way to the drinkhouse.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, dear?" You glanced at your husband, who just nodded reassuringly.

"It will be fine."

Even as the Mushroomo sat down and took one of the drinks left on the counter, they seemed too anxious to take a sip. Instead their gaze going to you--and Sozonius, especially. "I-I feel like I'm interrupting something.."

"No, you are not. But listen-"

"D-Do you need more 'shrooms for your studies, Sozo?? More menticide-?"

"No, no. Listen. I wanted to...apologize for what I have done to you and your fellow Mushroomos."

"Wha.....y-you do..?"

With a soft sigh, Sozonius grasped both of their hands, and although they squeaked in surprise, they didn't try running off. "I scarcely recall what I did while under the influence of the mushrooms. But...it's no excuse. I treated all of you poorly, ate your friends...and I'm sorry. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this old fool."

They meekly nodded. "W-We understand..mast-"

"From this day forward," he cut in gently, "I am no longer your master. You serve the Lamb now. Not me. And that goes for all of you Mushroomos, okay?"

"....yes, doctor." The mushroom creature exhaled a shaky breath, looking utterly relieved to have official freedom from his servitude.

"Good, thank you." Sozonius let go, smiling. "I'm glad you understand. Why don't you go get some rest?"

"I think..I will." They stood up and stared down at their untouched drink, before sliding it back over to you. "You can have this. I...don't feel like I need it anymore."

You nodded, bidding them goodnight as they headed back to their shelter, before gazing at the ant. "Seems you broke their habit, too."

"Well, I am a doctor, after all." He chuckled. "I wanna help whoever I can."

All you did was smile, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence, finishing your drinks and admiring the golden shrine at the center of the cult grounds.

Finally, everything was as it should be.

[trashratsaws]

We ALL love the scarian dynamic of watcher!Grian being completely unknowable to a human Scar by virtue of Grian being an omniscient god. I will sacrifice myself on your altar if you give me your attention, I don’t need you to love me like I love you nor am I deterred from loving you if you are incapable of love as humans understand it, you are fascinated by me and I am enamored by you but we are beings so drastically and fundamentally different I will likely never understand you. Our understandings of emotion and experience of being is completely alien to the other, and yet we seek each other out. It’s Grian’s godliness juxtaposed by Scar’s humanity BUT,,, what if you flip that.

What if the sheer complete unknowability is more Scar than Grian? This watcher deity who sees all and thrives on chaos meets actual ball of sunshine human and though he can replicate human language, human behavior, inhabit a human form, he cannot understand the subconscious mind of a human because he is not one. Oh what agony to be so much bigger than the ant. Oh to feel that if only your brain could interpret the signals they send to each other then you could understand the love the ant gives you, and perhaps return it. Oh to weep when you step on the ant by accident, bringing it back to life over and over again. Oh to inhabit the ant’s form, mimic every smile, kiss, and gentle touch in a desperate ravaged attempt to be closer to them. Human emotions are like shrimp colors to him.

Even more painful - the scorned deity trope is brutal this way. For his obsession with this human, his desire to understand, his meddling in his life and acceptance of his gross human love, the watchers turn Grian away. Force him to dance around on earth in human skin, force him to watch his precious ant die in his arms over, and over, and over again. You must now inhabit a world between the mortal and the divine, scorned by your kind but different from humans. For Grian to give up his divinity for beings who can’t even understand him. God.

[rottenr0ckets]

why do you support will? /genq

There's a lot of proof against Shelby really

When she accused him of locking him in his house was when he didn't have a house

There's pictures of wilbur looking drained and bruised when he was with shelby when he was with her but none of shelby

Shelby has been actively anti-recovery saying people never change and also several ableist statements

Shebly Has supported people telling others to do horrible things

Wilburs 'apology' wasn't an apology or admiring anything. He said he was shocked by it and even stated that he thought the biting was consensual which it seemed it was being that shebly said they had a safe word for it

Right before the allegations came out shebly was being accused of being a p3d0 and also at the same time wilburs new single came out which not only might be about her but there's one song where you can hear a voice that sounds like her screaming insults

Shebly constantly milking the situation, dragging it out and actively trying to deplatform wilbur

She said she said at first she 'didn't want to name names' but made it very bloody obvious it was him

The statement from sheblys cousin (idk if it's confirmed yet) saying they witnessed shebly abusing wilbur

How shebly is throwing under the rug the death of what I think to be 6 kids who've taken their lives due to harassment

Some smaller things that threw me off where her saying "this year has been crazy thank you for 1mil subs" and trying to make money out of her new found fame. Also her seemingly ignoring male abuse victims. How many people who were close to wilbur are still following him and probably know something is up but wilbur usually waits until situations calmed down to talk about it. Sheblys very childish behavior in blocking anyone who objects her and brings up asking for proof. Also her blatant naraccistic behaviors.

Also it was unnecessary for shebly to bring up the ant infected house or messy rooms. Messy rooms are caused by bad mental health and ant infections are common in Europe i myself have one in my house as well.

There's sososos so much I could go on about but that's the main stuff of why I support wilbur. She lacks proof and evidence as for wilbur has stayed quiet but has more proof of his innocence. Thank you for the question^^ anymore and ill be glad to answer as well as try to find source material for it if I can find it again (I probably can it's all over wilbur support groups) I apologize for any bad Grammer or misspellings it's very late for me😭😭😭

[sageandred]

Some minor things I'm thinking about/predictions for season 3~

-some more (pretty unedited) things I think could happen + predictions I don't necessarily hope to happen; + talking out some frustrations I personally had (if u don't want to read anything partially negative)

Missy & Amerie friendship. It would be good to expand to some less visited friendships. We got a hint of Amerie & Missy once again and I could see them talking even more nxt szn.

Sasha and Quinni are going to be working together nxt szn, and I can already see how the writers might try to rekindle something, but I don't want that, obviously. I could see them making Sasha develop feelings again only for Quinni to turn her down or it could be an opportunity for Sasha to actually apologize after some reflection as they continue to go their separate ways romantically.

Ant has to find out Harper also made the map, right? (that's the direction it's heading in??)

I don't care either way, but if Rowan wasn't just a 1 season and done type of character, I could see them trying to explore a mental health storyline, and separate from that make him more likeable/building friendships with anyone but Amerie.

Critiques of the Season/What I Hope Going Forward

They really missed some opportunities with Harper. It's totally valid for 2 childhood besties to grow apart in some ways and come back with an even greater and more mature connection. Instead, they just had Darren and Quinni adopt her into the group when I wish they would've spent a season of her developing her own friendships and building up her relationships that will be beneficial going forward.

which brings me to my points: I want Harper and Amerie to spend some time apart next season. I don't want it to be dramatic and I don't want them to have a fallout. They can actually be friends without being attached at the hip, but I don't want the s1 trio to be disrupted when I think that relationship is very special (sorry if this sounds harsh), and feels more organic than Harper's outside of the one that's developing with Cash.

Speaking of relationships: Ant & Harper feels underdeveloped to me. They could be a great couple. I wish they spent more time this season giving them individual arcs, but I think next season they kind of need to go through something dramatic to have the kind of break-through I'm wanting from their characters. They're kind of boring to me rn (I'm so sorry Harthony fans). They could end up together or not; I'm just not sold on their story yet.

New couples-I like the development stage of new couples/couples you don't expect. Give Quinni a gf, ofc. Switch up some of the dynamics. Relationships can be a means to another end, and it doesn't have to = the previous being bad. I don't want a love triangle, though; let them grow without the drama.

They could show the journey of Missy dealing with a toxic man, or they could show Spider/Missy grow together (I really don't care); I just want development for both of them individually and their own separate arcs regardless (especially Missy-he did have his own large arc this season). I actually think it would be cool to show the slow effects of how things add up and trauma causing some unhealthy behaviors with Spider (it doesn't have to make him bad; he's like 18 and anyone could grow from a failed high school relationship/become a really great person, but I just don't feel awe when I see their scenes...personally).

I didn't add this point with them on my other post, but I kind of want Darren and Cash to each have new romances/flings. I know there is love there, but I think they need to find themselves independent of one another. Their relationship very much feels like they grew up together and prematurely decided they belong together what with Cash's long secret crush (which is fine, but..); it is absolutely cute, though their incompatibility and continuous communication problems need to be explored/they need to mature.

[prismatoxic]

The night that everything changed.

It’s not often that Felix goes to Matt’s penthouse. He doesn’t like to; it feels too much like meeting a fox in its den, expecting to walk out unscathed. Not that he fears what Matt will do to him, at this point—they’re well past that. It’s more that he doesn’t like handing control over so readily. Let Matt come to him, grovel for sex and attention from his “devotee”. It’s all part of the game. Matt needles him to come over sometimes (“come over” here meaning “move in”), but Felix has his standards.

Tonight’s different. Maybe it shouldn’t be. He tells himself it’s not his business, but it’s been too long now to not know how Matt works, his idiosyncrasies and patterns of behavior. Seeing him actively agitated is… unusual. Not even angry agitated, but twitchy and restless, pacing his office floor and storming through the halls between every task of the day. Asking him about it didn’t answer anything, so here they are; Felix came home with him. He tells himself it’s for observational purposes. Matt doesn’t ask.

(Matt also clung to him the whole ride here, seeming unwilling to drive on his own; he’s ridden with Felix before, but this was different. His grip was tight, whole body pressed into Felix’s back like he wanted to crawl inside of him.)

The penthouse is luxurious to the point of obscenity, everything within it expensive and ornate, one wall made entirely of windows to overlook the city below. It’s easy to view Matt as what he is, like this—a god, looking down on humanity like so many ants. Yet tonight is still different, and as Felix shrugs off his coat he glances over to find Matt standing stock still in front of the glass, staring outside, body tense. He doesn’t look like a godking surveying his kingdom, this time; he looks like a man sentenced to the gallows.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” Felix asks, exasperated, as he flops down on a lavish sectional couch that feels too stiff to suggest anyone ever actually sits on it.

Matt doesn’t answer immediately, hands moving restlessly at his sides as the sunset outside frames the edges of his form in pink and gold. Felix considers letting it go for the moment, but it’s as he starts to look away that he sees something… odd.

There’s a sort of shimmer drifting around Matt, like a glittering fog, dark in color but also nigh invisible. That doesn’t feel like it makes sense.

“...You’ve been doing your research,” Matt finally speaks, voice distant. “Haven’t you? On me. What all do you know?”

This has come up before. Only, Matt doesn’t usually reference it so directly—Felix asks him evasive questions, alludes to things he knows, and Matt gives him one of those smug I know more than you smiles he’s so good at.

Felix lifts his legs, crossing his ankles on a wooden coffee table that probably cost more than he earns in a month. “What, about your old cults? Because—”

“No,” Matt cuts him off. “No, before that.”

“...Nothing.” That stings to admit, but it’s the truth; every religion Matt’s been a part of has different theories on his origins. “Why? Are you going to tell me?”

Matt goes quiet again. Felix lets out a resigned sigh, but before he can be properly annoyed about it, Matt tears away from the spot he’s been rooted to and starts to pace by the glass.

“I was banished from where I was born,” he says in a rush, and Felix watches as the shimmery vapor trails after him, sparkles catching in the fading light outside. “It’s—It’s far away, an unfathomable distance away. In the cosmos. A place in between places.”

So he’s from space, Felix muses, finding himself both surprised and not (honestly, the banishment is more noteworthy). He’s never been much for religion, but he’s seen enough of the theories about Matt to have several options to consider; space seems almost too simple, yet also fits his image of Matt like a glove. He considers making a joke about aliens but ultimately decides he’d rather just listen, for now.

Matt turns on his heel, marching back the other way. “When I was banished I lost my true form. I came here as an essence—the stardust that makes up the core of my being. It’s why I always take on vessels. Without them, I’m… intangible.”

Felix draws his lips into a thin line, a worrying concept being drawn to light by Matt’s rambling. “Hold on. Are you about to go back to that?”

Matt finally looks over at him. The moon that’s becoming progressively more visible in the sky behind him is full, the glow of it bright enough that it won’t matter soon that Matt didn’t turn on the lights when they got here. Cast in shadow, his eyes are hard to make out; the gold ones glow, sometimes, but the green ones don’t. His godhood isn’t on display right now. He’s just a scared-looking man.

“No. Yes? Not quite.” Matt approaches, dropping himself to sit near Felix, bent over with his elbows on his knees. “Don’t worry. The cosmos isn’t about to take your kill from you.”

“I was worried,” Felix scoffs. He wasn’t. Not about that, anyway.

“Celestial bodies are ever-changing, always moving,” Matt mutters, clasping his hands and resting his chin on his knuckles. “The… alignment of stars and planets can affect things far beyond them, especially if those things are starborn. I’ve felt it for some days now. There’s a celestial alignment happening tonight that will disrupt me.”

Felix raises both eyebrows, leaning back and resting his elbows on the back of the couch. “Disrupt? How so? Are you going to be removed from Matthew’s body?”

Matt laughs, low and with no humor. “It’s my body now. I’m not going to be expelled from it. Just…” He unclasps his hands, holding them out flat and laying one over the other. “Like oil on top of water. I’ll be separated. When the event ends, I’ll be whole again.”

“And you let me be with you for this?” Felix asks with a snort.

Matt sits up straighter. The sun is all but gone outside, now, the penthouse bathed in moonlight. The starstuff swirling around Matt seems more distinct than it was before.

“If you kill me like this, you will kill the body,” Matt explains, his voice laced with an edge of something Felix can’t quite define. “You will not kill me. I’ll be free to find another vessel. So if getting this body out of the way to take over the company is still your goal, I suppose I was a fool to allow you to be here.”

He turns his head, and Felix feels a chill run through his veins as Matt’s eyes meet his. They’re not green anymore—the irises are pitch black, glimmers of tiny stars within.

“I don’t think that’s what you’re after,” Matt murmurs.

He’s not wrong. Felix hasn’t cared much about the company since he discovered Matt’s true nature; his goal now is to kill a god, not be a CEO. Killing Matt is meaningless if all he actually does is destroy the body he’s in. That’s what he tells himself, anyway—that he has to kill Matt still. Like a hunter who can appreciate his quarry’s beauty but knows it has to die.

The room feels colder, now. Felix lowers his arms and leans forward again. “Maybe not. I guess I’ll just watch, then. Sounds like I’m about to see something interesting.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Matt asks, turning more towards Felix, the motion trailed by afterimages of stardust. “To observe? What will you learn, I wonder?” It’s almost like he’s trying to command some of his usual intimidating persona, but there’s something broken about it, almost frantic. Felix has to wonder if it’s because the event is uncomfortable, or because Matt was lying to him about going back to normal after this. Is he actually afraid?

“I observe you all the time,” he says. “How’s this different? Just because I’m—” As he speaks, Felix reaches out to touch Matt’s shoulder, and the words die in his throat as he makes contact with a surface that’s unnaturally cold.

Matt jolts away from him like he’s been burned.

“Woah,” Felix mutters, staring at the stardust clinging to his fingers. It drifts off after a moment, returning to Matt, who’s still leaning away as his chest heaves like he’s just been running for his life. “That was… weird.”

Matt doesn’t respond. Felix watches him for a moment, then shifts closer, reaching up to touch again; Matt’s head snaps to the side, his pupils bleeding out into the whites of his eyes as he bares his sharp teeth in a warning. “Keep your hands to yourself,” he hisses, but it’s even more broken than before, the sound both faraway and like a whisper in Felix’s skull.

“Stop freaking out,” Felix mutters, moving his hand to Matt’s opposite shoulder to pull him closer. For all his power and his obvious alarm, Matt doesn’t really resist, only leaning away even as he’s pulled flush against Felix’s side. He’s not even fully sure why he does it; maybe because the way it feels is fascinating. Maybe because Matt is shivering, like the cold is actually affecting him.

“St-op,” Matt croaks, baring his teeth again, much closer to Felix’s face now. Felix isn’t looking back at him, though—he’s looking down at Matt’s chest, where it almost seems like his starstuff is leaking out of him. He raises his free hand.

He’s not sure what he expects. That it will be even colder, maybe, or something else he’s familiar with, a sensation he has a name for. His fingertips touch Matt’s chest, but where he should be feeling the fabric of a shirt, what Felix actually feels is something like the surface of water. That, and something… more.

Matt grips his wrist. It’s a fragile hold, like reluctance rather than a command; Felix looks up to meet eyes that are fully black, stars blinking in and out of existence within.

“Don’t,” Matt whispers, his voice overlayed by unfamiliar echoes.

Felix stares into his eyes a moment longer, trying to discern the emotion Matt is displaying. Terror? Trepidation? Something else? He looks down again, where his fingers have just barely breached the surface. When he pushes, Matt doesn’t stop him, his wrist sliding through trembling fingers. It is cold, he finds. It’s also not; it’s like feeling nothing, but it’s also like feeling everything, something vast and unknowable swirling around his hand.

For a blinding moment, Felix is rocketed back to being a young teenager: he feels dew and dirt against his skin as he lays in the grass of the field behind his neighborhood. Above, as far as the eye can see, is the night sky; the light pollution is just low enough that he can see major constellations, maybe even something more, hints and whispers of the galaxy above. Shunned by his family and peers, disinterested in their approval anyway, he takes solace in the unfathomable reaches of space above.

Matt—or who he really is, the godking with a name Felix hasn’t figured out how to say—feels like what looking up at the night sky feels like.

He moves his fingers, running his thumb along something that is also nothing like one might caress the face of a lover, and Matt shudders in his hold. “Easy,” Felix murmurs, and he finds that applying just a little pressure with his arm makes Matt lean into him, head thudding onto his shoulder. “...Am I hurting you?”

Matt shakes his head.

He’s pliant, now, and when Felix lowers his arm to wrap it around Matt’s waist, he finds it easy to nudge the god into his lap, his shoulder against Felix’s chest and legs drawn up as if to make himself as small as possible. As Matt breathes heavy against his neck, Felix coaxes the essence of him more into his palm, stroking it as it phases through his flesh like neither of them are touching at all.

Yet they are touching. They’re touching more than they ever have before, in a way Felix knows humans can’t touch one another. For a person, maybe this would be like taking their soul in hand, the very core of their being; for Matt, this is his being. This is the very thing that he is under the body he stole, what remains of whatever he was before he lost the form he was born into. He is both massive and weightless, cold as death and warm as a kiss, as empty and as full as the universe hanging in the sky outside.

Felix tilts his head, brushing his lips against Matt’s hair. This moment is indescribable—the sort of experience once could only have with a god, a being of the cosmos so far beyond his own comprehension as to be entirely alien. If there’s a word for it, though, among all the ones he knows, Felix supposes he might refer to it as tender. He can’t really answer for the things he’s doing; he certainly doesn’t have the words for how it makes him feel. How often do hunters do this with their prey?

It feels like it goes on for hours. Whether that’s true or not is almost impossible to discern, like time itself warps around them throughout the event. Gradually, as the light of the moon changes angles across the penthouse floor, Felix starts to feel repelled from Matt’s chest, as though a magnet his hand is polarized to is nearing his palm. He stays as long as he can, caressing the stardust swirling around his fingertips, but finally the resistance is too great and his hand slides back out. When the sensation ends, Felix presses his fingers to Matt’s chest—solid, covered by the fabric of a plain shirt.

The room feels warmer. Matt, panting in Felix’s lap, also feels warmer. Chasing the tail end of the moment, Felix raises his hand to Matt’s face, cupping his jaw and thumbing over his cheek. It feels damp.

As Matt’s breathing evens out into a normal rhythm, the remaining tension in his limbs seeming to abate, Felix rests his jaw against Matt’s head. “All things considered,” he sighs, “you’re really pretty on the inside.”

Matt lets out a sharp exhale. “...the most vile things can be beautiful, Felix.”

Vile. What a word. It’s almost baffling; Matt never refers to himself as anything less than a gift to all those lucky enough to be graced by his presence. Felix knows he’s a monster, and certainly Matt agrees, but it’s not something he ever mentions disparagingly.

He hums, moving his hand down along Matt’s neck. “Does it really matter?”

“Does what really matter?” Matt asks, sounding almost impatient.

“If they’re vile,” Felix clarifies, running his thumb along the artery of Matt’s neck that he’s cut dozens of times with no lasting results but soiled clothes and a bloody mouth. “Does it really matter when they’re so… perfect?”

Finally pulling away, Matt sits up, fixing Felix with a look that’s both tired and unimpressed. His eyes are green again, for as visible as they even are in the gloom; the tear tracks on his cheeks aren’t visible at all, but Felix can feel them on his own skin now that it’s exposed to the air.

“There’s something seriously wrong with you, you know,” Matt informs him dryly.

Felix can’t help but smirk in response. It’s cute, he thinks, to see a god try to save face after an intimate moment. He reaches up, curling his fingers under Matt’s chin to thumb over his lower lip, a gesture that earns him narrowed eyes but no attempt to pull away.

“Like I don’t know that already.”

[daughterofcain-67]

𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (pt4)

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Beau is still wrapped up in this case and he needs to contact the FBI for help. Although he’s still skeptical of this Andre fellow. After your date with Andre goes south, you find yourself into a bit of trouble.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: some backstory of the reader, mentions of a homicide crime scene, kidnapping, Andre has suspicious behavior, reader is starting to be a little cautious of Andre.

“You mean you’re going on two dates?! Y/N, I didn’t think you’d ever go on dates with two separate guys like that! Good for you!” Cadence chuckled as she watched her sister struggle with her hair.

“I told you, the movie night with Beau isn’t a date! He said he anted to make things up to me for missing last night and a different movie night was all I could think of.” You tried to explain. You didn’t want to have that kind of reputation of dating multiple guys at the same time.

“And yet you told Beau that this thing with Andre is a friend date. You know Andre meant it to be like, you know, an actual date, right?”

“Well I mean I guess? I’m just trying to get to know the guy. He’s still a stranger so what’s the harm in getting to know him and show him around town as a friend?” You asked and Cadence rolled her eyes at you.

“You need to work on your clarification skills. Although the timing of Beau’s day off couldn’t be any worse!”

“To be fair, you volunteered me for this date, remember?”

“Well I still like you better with Beau but you’re too stubborn when it comes to him. At least you’re taking a shot with Andre!”

You smile and roll your eyes a little. Of course you knew Beau was her first choice for who you ended up with but you’ve been in that conversation with her several times. Maybe it was denial but it was for the best.

“Plus, I only volunteered you because you seriously need to get out more. Ever since that thing from a few years ago, all you do is go to work, sometimes even stay late for no actually good reason, then you come home, watch your shows, then go to bed. What kind of a life is that?” Cadence asked, all you did was stay quiet.

“I know the anniversary is tomorrow, and all I was trying to do is get you to have something to look forward before you start dwelling on the past again. You can’t change what happened and I know how you get when that day comes around.”

Your jaw tightened when your sister started bringing up what happened and you took in a deep breath and continued to try and think of what to do with your hair. You ultimately decided to curl it and pull it into a ponytail, so you broke out your curling iron. Beats the typical messy bun.

“You’re just going to ignore me now?” You heard your sister ask.

“I’m not ignoring you… just soaking everything in. It’s hard for me to go out there for a reason and you know that.”

“Y/N, you should know better than anyone that what happened to Neil was out of anyone’s control. Hell, Neil obviously didn’t even have control because if he did, he would still be here. You couldn’t prevent what happened because he was stubborn and you shouldn’t let that hold you back from dating again.”

The scene flashed through your mind at what you found. Neil was a drug user and he had been one for years. You had begged him to stop because you were worried about what would happen to him one day but he wouldn’t listen. He said that he needed a high because of his stresses from work and he would always say that he wasn’t beating you or abusing you in any way because of the drugs so he wanted you to let him be.

You fought with him about it for years when you were married and one day you decided that it was just a losing battle on your end even if you still loved him and worried about him and his health. One day, you found him on your bed, leaned up against the headboard. His eyes were closed, lips were purple, a needle was on his nightstand and he wasn’t moving. You had rushed to Neil and tried to wake him up but he was unresponsive. When you called 911, the paramedics arrived and pronounced him dead on arrival.

You found it hard to live with yourself after that. Which was why you didn’t want to date anyone after that. You couldn’t lose them whether it’s through an accidental overdose or otherwise.

“He was still my husband, Cadence. I’m going to feel some kind of guilt. I should have seen it coming and I should have pushed harder to get him to stop.” You admitted.

“I’m just glad Neil and I never had children so they wouldn’t have to be without a father, or have to see him like that.”

Cadence sighed a little. This wasn’t exactly the conversation she imagined having with you when you were getting ready for the first date you’ve had in what feels like ages. Maybe she shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I’m sorry…” She trailed off and tried to think of something else to talk about.

“Well, um… where exactly do you plan on taking Andre? You said you wanted to show him around town.”

“He said that he liked hiking and rock climbing. I thought that maybe I’d show him some places to do some rock climbing then maybe get him some gear to show him where we can hike. Maybe where Sunny and her husband had their camp grounds for a while.” You said, appreciating that Cadence was finally changing the subject.

“What time is it anyway?” You asked and you could see in the mirror that your sister was looking down at her watch.

“Quarter till nine.” She said.

“Shit!” You began to rush and you decided to forget about curling your hair. You were lucky that you were already dressed in something at least decent for this date. It was simply a dark blue pair of jeans and a cream colored blouse with a brown leather jacket.

You pulled your hair into a couple of quick braids and started doing your makeup; something light with a little eyeliner over the top lid in some mascara.

“Right, just a friend date.” Cadence smirked before she walked off to let you finish getting ready before Andre would arrive.

Beau was already at Irene’s house and CSI was there. This was probably one of the more tragic murders he had ever seen in his career. Irene didn’t deserve to go like this and Sean was just trying to help her - even though he was going about it the wrong way.

Irene had been shot and her body was lying on the carpet in her living room while The Golden Girls was playing in the background. On the wall, there was a message written in blood.

‘This isn’t over’ And there was a crown written in blood beside the message.

Beau assumed that it would be this Ace guy again and CSI was collecting any evidence they could to see if any fingerprints would match the cigarette found around the site where Ember and Sidney were found. He has to still be in town right?

“How long are fingerprints supposed to take to find out if there’s a match?” Beau asked Jenny.

He hadn’t even gone home yet after going to your house. He had to take care of this case and he needed to know that they would be able to get this Ace guy out of his town.

“If we are even able to get fingerprints, this shouldn’t take long. But we need to get the FBI involved now before things get worse.” Jenny said.

“You’re right. I’m headed down to the station to get a handle on this now.” Beau said, but he could hear Jenny’s footsteps following him.

“So did you go to Y/N’s last night?” Hoyt asked and Beau lifted a brow slightly as he walked out of the door of the dead woman’s house.

“Can we talk about something relevant please?” He asked, a little irritated. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking.

“Was it that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad. She made plans with some guy she just met that’s new around here. I think it’s ironic that some guy comes around at the same time as all of this mess starts with the kidnappings and now a murder.” He rambled.

“Oh please, you can’t actually think he has something to do with it. He couldn’t be Ace and we don’t even have anything to have him as a suspect.” She reasoned and Beau rolled his eyes, knowing that she was right and he hated that she was right.

“No, I guess there’s not any suspicion.” He said, although he had a bad feeling.

“Anyway, to answer your question so you won’t ask me later, I went over and apologized like you said and I asked if there as anything I could do to make up for everything. I told her that today would be my day off but like I said she made plans. But she said maybe we could try for a movie night or something at my place this weekend just us.” He said as he walked to the car.

“Just so I don’t ask later, are you okay with her making plans with some guy?” Jenny asked, although she figured she’d know his real answer even if he said something different.

“Considering I don’t have an authority over what she does romantically, no I don’t have a problem with it.” He lied and Jenny rolled her eyes.

“Want company for the ride to the station?” She asked and Beau shrugged.

“Sure, why not? Maybe you can talk to Popsickle about the updates on that cigarette.” The sheriff replied.

“I don’t know if there will be any updates this soon but maybe it’s worth a shot.” Jenny said while Beau started the car.

The two of them eventually made it to the office and while they parted ways and Jenny went to talk to Poppernack, Beau went to his office and shut the door behind him. He sat down in his chair and grabbed the phone before making some phone calls to the FBI to see if this was their kind of thing.

“Hello, this is Sheriff Beau Arlen. I have a case here in Helena Montana that may or may not be linked to the Syndicate.” Beau began and he finally got in touch with an agent.

“Hello, this is Agent Harlen Sampson. I hear you’ve got something involving the Syndicate, Arlen? Whatcha got?” Agent Sampson asked.

“Nothing concrete but I do have some kind of trafficking activity involving a man named Ace. He got this kid named Sean wrapped up in this shit and this Ace guy killed his grandmother before any witness protection was established.” Beau explained.

“Ace… I believe I’ve heard that name come up. No, he’s not part of the Syndicate but he’s a part of another case I’ve been working on for the past six months. Why don’t I meet you there in Helena and we can compare notes? I’ll be on my way first thing in the morning.” The agent said.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

You had finished brunch with Andre and you both had gone somewhere to go rock climbing. He seemed to be enjoying his time so far and you were glad he seemed happy. So far you were distracted from the anniversary coming up, as well as the twinge of guilt you felt after Beau came over last night.

Once you made it to the top of the rock tower, you rung the little bell and started to swing down a bit. When you got to the bottom and unlatched yourself from everything, you started looking for Andre and noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

You started walking around and when you made it around a corner, you saw Andre on the phone again and he looked a little frustrated over something. You walked towards him and only caught a glimpse of what he was saying.

“I thought you took care of the issue. He’s caused enough attention as it is. We’ve had enough complications, now you tell me the business in Canada is failing?”

Complications? What issue was Andre talking about? Is their jewelry business in trouble? You couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in charge of something like Andre was, and you didn’t envy him for it either. But what attention was he talking about?

Andre glanced up at you and he gave a slight grin before he went back to the conversation, “Just get things under control, especially in Canada. I’ll call you back.” Then he hung up the phone and he started walking over.

“Is everything alright?” You asked and tilted your head a little.

“Of course, Love. Just some minor problems with a branch overseas. But it’ll be handled soon.”

Something felt off about his so called business issues. You wondered if there was more to Andre than you initially assumed. You just hoped that maybe you were just over thinking things. He couldn’t have been some kind of criminal. He was just some guy looking to expand his business and there was nothing illegal about that.

“Okay. As long as everything’s alright.” You said and you rubbed the back of your neck. “Hey, why don’t we go looking around for some properties? I think Tonya has some land up for sale still and maybe we can look into some options for your shop.”

Andre smiled a little and he nodded, “Yeah, I think that’ll be a good idea. But I need to fill up the truck with gas first.”

When the both of you got into the truck, he pulled up to a gas station and grabbed his card from his wallet, but he left his wallet in the car before stepping out to the pump. You bit your lip and started to grow curious.

You glanced down at the wallet and you grabbed it and opened it up before you saw his ID.

Andre Bolkonsky

It sounded Russian. Reminded you of Andrey from the musical Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. But obviously your Andre didn’t have a Russian accent or anything like that so maybe it was just a family name and he had some ancestry in Russia. Who knew.

You closed the wallet and pulled out your phone. You typed out his name in your notes app in case you would need to do some sort of background check on this guy. Something inside of you was telling you to send a message to Jenny.

After opening up your messages, you went to Jenny’s messages and started typing.

Y/N: Hey, Jenny. I was wondering if you could do me a favor and look up the name Andre Bolkonsky for me. I don’t know that much about him and with the kidnappings that happened, I don’t want to put Cadence or anyone in danger.

Soon enough you got a response back.

JH: Sure thing! I know paranoia is a bit of a thing and I get wanting your sister safe. Does Beau know you want a background on this guy?

Y/N: No, and right now I’d like to keep it that way. He’s got enough on his plate as sheriff.

The sound of the truck door opening up broke you from your train of thought and you could see through your peripheral that Andre was getting in the car and buckling up again. Then the two of you started driving off.

“You know, you aren’t really sneaky.” Andre said as he continued to drive.

“What are you talking about?”

“What were you going through my wallet for?”

“Oh… I just realized I didn’t know your last name. I was curious and you left the wallet in the cup holder.” You admitted.

“You know, you could have just asked.” He reminded you and you started to get a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. He wouldn’t do anything rash in broad daylight would he?

“You aren’t that upset about it are you? It was just stupid curiosity and you’re right, I should have just asked.” You said and when you looked at him, he seemed calm. You couldn’t read him so you honestly couldn’t tell if he was mad or just in his own head.

“I know you’re friends with the cops, and I know that you may have heard of some cases they tell you about. But is it really necessary for you to go through other people’s things? Come on, we were having a good time before you got all curious.”

“Look, I said I was sorry. I understand if you just want to take me home instead of looking for that place for the shop.”

“Good idea. I’ll look into that Tonya lady you were telling me about.”

You sighed and looked out of the window.

Great, you ruined a perfectly good date. Cadence would never let you hear the end of this one.

You were home about fifteen minutes later and you simply exited the car. So now you were in a t-shirt and some shorts instead of what you wore that morning. Several hours had gone by and you were watching the television.

Of all the ways things could have gone, you had to come off as untrusting. Wonderful.

When you looked outside you saw that it was finally getting dark. You knew that Cadence would be coming home eventually after she’d close the shop.

You got up from the couch and decided to go in the kitchen and make some popcorn. When you heard a ding from your phone you pulled it from the pocket of your shorts and saw that Jenny had texted back.

JH: There’s nothing on him as far as anything concerning. His family’s got a few shops, one of which is in Canada. He seems to be more of a stand in for a sibling that wants the company. I can do some other digging if there’s something you’re worried about. Heard you had a date with him, how did it go?

Before you could answer, you thought you heard a noise. You looked up from your phone and peeked into your living room and you didn’t see anyone there. Maybe you were just hearing things.

You set your phone down on the counter and you walked into your living room. Then you heard another noise. It sounded like it was coming from the back yard.

Perhaps it was nothing, and you were hoping that it wasn’t anything major. But that was when you heard a window breaking and your eyes widened. You rushed over to the fireplace and grabbed one of the pokers for firewood. You had to have some kind of self defense, right?

You gripped the brass poker tightly in your hand and cautiously walked through your halls, unsure of what would be waiting for you or if you would even be prepared for what was coming. Maybe you should have gotten yourself a gun for the house and you should have taken some kind of safety course. But none of that mattered now and you had to focus.

The sound was coming from your room and you saw that a tall, muscular figure with a black mask was rummaging through your things. But unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t the only intruder in your home.

Someone grabbed your arm that was holding the poker and pulled you into his chest before he covered your nose and mouth with some kind of cloth. Your vision grew blurry and the last thing you saw was the first man coming towards you. On his mask, you could faintly see embroidery of an ace card before everything turned black.

Hey everyone! Thank you for reading! And thank you to those of you who have been leaving comments! The feedback is greatly appreciated! I hope you all are enjoying, and there is more to come to this story very soon!

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @fanfic-n-tabulous

[saltymongoose]

Hear me out: yan!main four w their object of affections/ s/o that can purr

The boys got lots of purrs to give but what abt the reader? We need to hear it (or read it in this case aakdjdjs)

Definitely sounds like an interesting scenario, here are your hcs. :) <;3 (And my apologies for the extreme lateness 🙏! Work sent me to the shadow realm again oof.)

[Yandere] Their S/O Purrs Around Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)

- [2BDAMNED] -

> 2BDamned was pleasantly surprised when he found out that you could purr. You were already close at this point, so you had no reservations about showing your emotions to him. He did make himself available for you to vent to if you ever needed it, and he was your closest “friend” at the S.Q. anyway, but he had no idea you truly felt that comfortable around him. He was touched, and very happy with the current turn of events.

> Doc doesn’t try too hard to get you to purr, at least not to the point where it becomes obvious. Subtly is his specialty, after all; the last thing he’d want to do is scare you off by becoming too overbearing or smothering in your view. However, this doesn’t mean he doesn’t marvel at you when you do purr around him.

> He’s very lucky that he has a mask to hide his face, otherwise you’d see the smile that appears the moment he hears the gentle rumbles erupt from you. That and the embarrassing blush he feels beginning to burn on his cheeks. (Time for being so open about those things could come later when the relationship between you was far stronger.)

> Although, sometimes he even allows himself to reciprocate, in the hopes that his own purring will encourage you to feel comfortable enough to do it more around him. To him, it's a small mark of progress, a sign that you are growing closer together, and he cherishes every occasion this happens.

> He never knew such a simple sound could ever make him so happy, and honestly he even feels foolish for the sheer elation that overcomes him whenever he hears it from you. But, unlike any other time, he's content to be a fool, as long as it's only for you. That's just scratching the surface of how deep his love for you is, something you'd come to find out soon enough if he has any say in it.

- [DEIMOS] -

> Unfortunately for him, Deimos finding out you can purr was not due to any action he did, but from one of your other friends instead. He walked in to find you giving them a hug, with a small, barely audible purr beginning to lull up in your throat, and honestly he's affronted by the sheer audacity exhibited by your friend here. Didn’t they already know you two were together? Sure, you weren’t “official” yet, but he thought your interactions made it obvious enough.

> He tries relentlessly to get you to purr, upping the ante on every romantic and comforting gesture that comes to his mind with the hope of making you happy enough to do so. If you thought he was supremely clingy and almost too generous with his gifts before, he really outdoes himself now.

> You know full well why he’s behaving this way now too, and honestly, his desperation to hear such an inconsequential noise from you is kind of amusing amusing. It’s not like you even do it that often around anyone else, but you guess he doesn’t know that.

> (He does, but you don't understand that he wants it to be a "thing" between you and him. He purrs so often around you that it's more akin to white noise at this point; he can't help it (he loves you that much), but he'd at least hope you'd be willing to just relax a bit more around him so he can hear yours in turn.)

> However, you can see why he’d want to hear you purr regardless. With how much he wants to be with you romantically, it’d probably mean a lot to him. It is one of the ultimate signs of trust for grunts, and it shows how happy you feel around him - both of which being things he seems to long for, no matter how much effort it takes.

> So, on a day when you feel particularly generous, you decide to loosen up and allow yourself to purr when he's attached himself to your side again. In an instant, you can feel Deimos' mouth curl into a wide smile against the nape of your neck, and an excited noise leaves him. He presses himself even closer to you, wanting to hear it with more clarity, and you feel warmth creep across your face.

> He just wants to bask in this moment alone with you, surrounded by the sound of your love and happiness. His breath is shaky as he forcefully quiets himself from making much noise, though his euphoria makes it increasingly difficult. He feels his adoration for you bloom to even greater heights, and if you were able to see his face, you'd only see the completely dazed, love-struck look he holds just for you.

> You mean everything to Deimos, and with this moment, he yearns even more for the day when you'll view him the same way - the day when you're his. And judging by this occasion, he's hopeful that it's closer than he initially thought.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

> The first time you purred around Hank wasn’t done on purpose, but rather a natural reaction to his own loud purring. He seemed to pause for a second, to which you grimaced to yourself, suddenly concerned with what he was thinking. Even after being around him for so long, he remained largely unpredictable to you. However, the sudden rough nuzzle you got from him after that moment was enough of a reassurance that he was in no way displeased.

> Despite how mysterious and downright confusing he is, Hank’s thought process concerning general affection is simple to understand. He loves you more than life itself and all the carnage within it, favoring you above all other things Nevada holds, so he reasoned that showing it to you would be the best way to get that across. Hence why he purrs so often around you and lavishes you with more loving gestures than you could ever ask for.

> If anything, the fact that this form of communication between you has occurred is far more important than you’d ever expect. Physical gestures are the easiest ways he’s found to convey his feelings, so you doing the same in turn (even if not completely on purpose) overjoys him. It shows that you understand him far more than any others do, which reinforces the fact that you must be meant for him, just as he is for you. 

> As an extension of that, you purring around him was definitely a sign that you returned his immense feelings. Or at least, you were beginning to. That must’ve been it.

> Hank doesn’t much care for the deeper sentimental meanings of most things, and everybody knows that. But if he was truly as ambivalent and callous as most see him, he probably wouldn’t be feeling the fuzzy, burning sensation of true happiness when he hears you simply purr. The only person that made him “soft” in that fashion was you. And he was more than okay with that.

- [SANFORD] -

> Sanford always had some curiosity about whether or not you’d purr around him (or even if you could), but he doesn’t approach it like it’s something he has to make you do. Was getting such a nice gesture of love back from you something of a fantasy for him? Maybe. But he’d never try to push you to do so; that type of act just feels too manipulative to him.

> He’d long decided that if you were going to return his feelings, it’d have to be solely on your own. He can do his best to convey his fondness for you in the meantime anyway. Luckily for him though, he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

> After all this time, you were pretty comfortable around Sanford. You knew at this point that despite what his reputation suggests, he’d never hurt you. Add this to how doting he is and it made complete sense that you’d be fine with purring around him. So you just do, simple as.

> It might not be a big deal to you, hell you might not even notice some of the time. But it is a huge thing for Sanford. Finding someone that you can trust to this level in Nevada is a rare thing to begin with, and he knows that it was probably difficult to get comfortable around him at first because of his job and everything else.

> So when he hears you purr around him for the first time, and feels your body vibrate the slightest bit from where it's comfortably leaning against him, he honestly feels like he might cry. He becomes even more of a mess when you give him a worried look and whisper little reassurances to him, unsure of why he's so weepy all of a sudden.

> While he doesn't get as emotional in the subsequent times you purr, it still has a way of tugging at his heartstrings. Your purr is a physical sign of your intimate connection; a clear way to communicate to him that you genuinely care for him and trust him above other grunts. It seems like his heart beats twice as fast just from hearing it, and the amount of joy it brings him almost aches in its intensity.

> Sanford loves you so much that it hurts, but to him it's a good sort of pain. The kind that tells him that what he feels for you is real and far-reaching, the kind of love that he knows will last forever. While he returns your purrs with his own softer ones, he goes over plans to fully reveal these deep affections to you in a way you truly deserve. Only the best for his beloved after all.

[2-dsimp]

Hi NightFlurry again!!

Thank you so much for loving my ideas. I'm an avid reader of your blog and love making my own stories; I always check if you have anything interesting to read or any cool art.

While I was reading your genshin yandere otome game, my brain started churning, and I thought to myself, 'If there's a yandere school au, why can't there be a yandere fantasy au as well' I'm so glad you love my work, I was afraid that it wasn't good enough...ToT Anyways, I'm trying to brainstorm some backgrounds for other characters, so far I'm working on Kazuha, Wanderer, Ei, Dainself, Diluc, Kaeya, and Zongli, but feel free to ask/request for any particular character!!

Also, I love it when people comment back on my work. It makes me feel so happy when I read each comment even if it's as lengthy as 4 paragraphs! So please feel free to comment! P.S. I'd also love to hear your opinions 2-dsimp!!

Bye NightFlurry!!

And thank you for blessing me with such good food o(≧v≦)o

I just came back from a jog so my mind is racing with ideas to share and add onto to the fantasy au from my pov! Firstly I’ll just list off the few possible candidates I can see vying for the readers hand in holy or unholy matrimony depending on what ending you get!

Itto the Terrible (He’s a dragon Oni )/Childe the Abyssal knight. but I’ll probably introduce them sometime later so for now I’ll officially announce…

Tyrant Prince! Scaramouche

He’s shunned by the royals and commoners alike. The royals find him to be unfit for succession of the queens throne simply because he was adopted by the shogun and to add insult to injury he had commoners blood running through his veins or so they thought.

As for the reason why the commoners held Tyrant prince! Scaramouche in such low regards was because of his crass and cold behavior towards them. Just imagine the look of fear, embarrassment, and shock the commoners had when he looked at them like they were mere ants, an insignificant existence that wasn’t befitting of his presence nor his attention. And treated them as such.

Although To be fair, Tyrant prince!Scaramouche wasn’t always that way. In his younger days of youth he used to be sociable and warm towards his subjects. But an incident which brought his downfall into the dark abyss of turmoil. That was done by the hands of one who he thought of as a true friend. Caused his heart to grow cruel and cold towards commoners and nobles as a whole.

To make matters worse his relationship with his mother was already strained to the point where only bitterness remained lingering on his tongue whenever he spoke of her.

Not only that he wasn’t the only one the shogun adopted being the meticulous woman she is she rounded up potential orphans that would carry on her legacy. The succession battle was nothing less then pretty since everyone who was an orphan knew the terrible conditions of those who lacked power. And so every son and daughter had the intention to kill anyone getting in there way.

With those factors Tyrant prince! Scaramouche made a promise to himself to never let anyone in as he was all he had left to salvage what remains of himself. Until he met you someone who reminded him so much of himself and yet the only difference was you were strong enough to try and free yourself from what chained you down. Instead of wallowing in self pity, hatred, and helplessness.

However, with your help he knows that the both of you could take over his kingdom via rebellion and claim revenge on the ones who wronged you both. While You deal with your shameless parents who’ve tried to sell you off into marriage with a fat old rich king from afar. Just for a quick buck to prevent the decline in their poor province.

He will execute any and all loose ends so he can truly be set free as his own person. With Tyrant prince! Scaramouche by your side it’s a guarantee that the two of you will govern his country with nobody to stand in the way of y’all’s powerful reign. All you have to do is accept that your his precious tyrant queen if not well he has his ways of convincing you otherwise. As he’s not the type to keep his hands clean…

“Isn’t the scenery beautiful my queen look at what we accomplished, now that we’re in power no one will be able to defy us nor deny us of our existence. Together we’re unstoppable— My dear why’re are you shedding your precious tears? Aren’t you happy that your family is dead, you wanted them alive you say? Haha you’re joking right? Well I suppose you’re not, I offer my utmost condolences my love but they were the ones who almost prevented us from being together. For that I couldn’t just exile them…No, for such a grave sin it ‘twas only natural that death was the only option available for them to truly repent for what they’ve done.

————/———————/———-

I might post doodles of him sometime later XD

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Chicanerous - Jimmy McGill/Male Reader (NSFW!)

jimmy brings you to meet his brother chuck. though due to chuck's homophobic behavior towards jimmy in the past, jimmy wants revenge. he has you wear a vibrator to chuck's house and sneakily controls it in front of him. tags/warnings: vibrators, sex toys, voyeurism, exhibitionism, referenced homophobia anatomical terms: none! (this was completely unintentional so if you're a cis man/amab enjoy ig lol) words: 3,115 ao3 link author's notes: i hate you chuck mcgill 😌

“Forty bucks.”

“No.”

“Fifty.”

“Jimmy, I’m not doing this.”

“…Forty-five.”

“Did you just go down?”

“Oh, good, you are listening!” Jimmy laughed, “But seriously. Fifty-five? C’mon! It’ll be the easiest money you’ve ever made… and the sexiest.” 

That was probably true, but it’d also be the most humiliating and mean-spirited way to earn a quick buck. You refused yet again. “Jimmy, no. I’m not going to harass your brother like this. I’ve never even met the guy!” 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much. Chuck’s a…” Jimmy paused and tried to think of a nicer word than ‘asshole’. “Let’s call him an acquired taste. If you have a taste for mothballs and bigotry, that is.”

“Bigotry?” You questioned. “Oh, god, don’t tell me-”

But he told you. “Raging homophobe! Jesus, when I was like 14, I told him I think I like boys and girls, and he practically dragged me by the ear to our local church for confession. He said he was doing me a favor by not telling our parents. Can you believe that?” Jimmy scoffed, but there was a profound sadness oozing out of his pores. He sniffled and cracked his neck; you hoped it wasn’t to choke back tears. 

You could see the pain in Jimmy’s demeanor and empathized with him. “Really? God, that’s so fucked, I’m so sorry. And he never apologized?”

“Are you kidding?! He thinks he’s the Messiah!” Jimmy dropped the box he was holding on the table and paced around your living room. “The ever-infallible Charles McGill Jr.! He thinks I’m the one who needs to repent for living a sinner’s lifestyle. He really goes above and beyond, y’know. Hates the sin and the sinner.” He plopped down on your couch and sighed.

You sat down next to him and put an arm around his back. Concerned, yet confused. “Why do you still talk to him, then?”

“His condition.” Jimmy explained, “He can’t take care of himself, so he needs me to brave the electricity-ridden world for him and get him what he needs. So, he kinda has to keep me around. That’s the only reason he’s even agreed to meet you.”

That tracked. A homophobe who pushed his younger brother to pray the gay away would probably not be too kind to said younger brother’s boyfriend. “So… what, he only cares about you because you keep him alive? That’s shitty. Fuck him.”

“Fuck him, indeed.” Jimmy concurred, “You know what? Nevermind. Don’t even worry about meeting him, honestly. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. No sense in bringing you over there if he’s not gonna like you, anyway.”

That gave you an idea. If Chuck wouldn’t like you on your best behavior, why bother with pleasantries? If he was going to think you were a degenerate pervert regardless of what you did, why not have a little fun and hit a homophobe where it hurts? Fuck turning the other cheek; take the upper hand.

“...I’ll do it.”

-

You squirmed in the passenger seat of Jimmy’s two-toned Suzuki Esteem. The vibrator wasn’t invasive, but it made its presence known. It was hard to sit still with it inside you. You needed friction.

“Well, someone’s got ants in their pants!” Jimmy chuckled and killed the ignition. “It’ll probably sound more like bees once I turn it on, though.” He fished a small remote out of his pocket and pressed the power button. A singular vibration pulsed through you, making you jump.

“How loud does this thing get?” You asked.

“It probably won’t be too obvious at first since it’s under your clothes, but he’s definitely gonna hear it once it really gets going. Now, let’s rap for a second.” Jimmy put the remote back in his pocket, unbuckled his seatbelt, and faced you. “No matter how loud it gets, you don’t hear it, I don’t hear it. We lie through our teeth and make Chuck feel like he’s going crazy. You get me?”

You got him, “Yeah, sure,” though there was an obvious hole in his plan, “But, like… if it’s vibrating, I’m gonna be, like… moaning and stuff like that. Wouldn’t he notice that?”

Jimmy waved you off, “Cover it up, if you can. Make whatever excuse you gotta. But if you can’t or he starts to question you, I’ll step in. You’ll be fine. You ready?”

“I guess.” You unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the car. Jimmy locked it and squeezed behind you, making his way to the mailbox.

“Gotta put all your electronics in here. Anything with a battery can set him off. He’ll know if you forget something.” Jimmy loudly proclaimed as he opened the mailbox and stuffed his phone, watch, and keys inside. When he was done, he grabbed you by your hips and whispered in your ear. “He’s watching.”

Your eyes scanned the front of the empty-looking house, and sure enough, you saw two fingers pulling the blinds apart, and disgruntled eyes peering through them. You flinched, and hastily dug in your pocket for your phone. “Jesus…” you grumbled. “Fifty-five bucks for this, right?”

“How’s about forty-five and the best head you’ve ever gotten?” Jimmy kissed the back of your head as you closed the mailbox.

You spun around and flicked his forehead. “Nope. Fifty-five. And don’t act like you’re not gonna give me head regardless.”

“Oh, you know I will.” Jimmy smiled at you. Some tapping on the window broke up your intimate moment. Chuck was getting impatient. “Coming!” Jimmy called out and grabbed your hand, leading you up the walkway to Chuck’s front door. He stopped you in front of a metal pole. “Ground yourself.”

“What?”

“Just tap the thingy.” Jimmy demonstrated by tapping his finger on the pole, and you did the same. Having grounded yourselves, you were ready to enter. Jimmy knocked on the door, and Chuck answered with faux hospitality.

“Welcome! Jimmy, good to see you, as always. And, uh… what was your name again?” You could tell he was fighting to fake a smile for you.

You reminded him of your name and offered your hand to shake. “Pleasure to meet you. Jimmy’s told me so much about you.”

Chuck hesitated before grabbing your hand, as if being gay was contagious. Physical contact with a homosexual was sure to poison him with an unquenchable craving for cock and balls. Nevertheless, he persisted, taking your hand in his and offering a limp, wet noodle handshake. “Oh, all good things, I hope?”

“Of course!” You lied.

“Well, come on in.” Chuck stepped aside and allowed you to enter his delusional home. “I apologize for the darkness. Jimmy informed you of my condition, I presume?”

“He did, yeah. It must be tough to live with,” You answered with mock sympathy, in reality you couldn’t give less of a fuck about his living situation. It’s not like you’d ever be invited over again after today. Still, you tried to come up with a compliment. “You seem to be handling it really well, though. I’d imagine you have to get pretty creative. I don’t know what I’d do in your position.”

Jimmy swooped in to back you up. “I told you he’s a smart guy! Managed to build a life for himself in the 21st century without any tech whatsoever. I don’t know anyone else who could solve a problem like that.”

Chuck forced some laughter out, “Ah, well, I do what I can to get by. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the couch, where you and Jimmy sat down. He situated himself across from you, and folded his hands in his lap. “So, how did you meet my brother?”

“Well, actually, I-”

Click

Bzzzzzzzzzzz

You should’ve seen that coming, but you didn’t. With no warning, Jimmy had ignited the vibrator, which was now rattling against your sensitive walls. You gasped, but faked a sneeze to cover it up. 

It was on the lowest setting, so thankfully Chuck didn’t notice the noise. “Bless you.”

“Thank you…” You replied. Already, your nerves were on fire. You knew Jimmy wouldn’t rush out the gate guns blazing, but this was much harder than you expected it to be. You couldn’t imagine you’d keep up the charade for very long. It took you a while to catch your train of thought. “We, uh… I work at the…” You swallowed a moan, ”...the nail salon, where he lives, and I… I saw him come in one day, and, like… I just kinda… shot my shot, I guess.”

Chuck raised an eyebrow. “You seem tense. Are you feeling alright?”

You nodded, hoping your body wasn’t shaking as much as the toy was. “Nerves, sorry.”

Jimmy slung an arm around you and hugged you from the side. “He’s just a little anxious, that’s all. He wants to make a good impression.”

Chuck nodded, content with that explanation. “Right, right. Well, I must say I’m not… thrilled, that my brother is with another man, but I hope that-”

Click

That son of a bitch. Jimmy turned it up. In the middle of Chuck’s sentence. You had no time to stall your reaction, groaning audibly and grabbing Jimmy’s leg for support. 

“You feeling alright, babe?” Jimmy asked, brushing some hair out of your face as you leaned into him, his other hand tucked into his pocket with the remote. “Jeez, you’re all red. You took your meds today, right?”

If anything, you appreciated Jimmy’s ability to lie on the spot. There was no medication for you to have taken. It was bullshit, all the way down. You let him lead, your dance partner in the tango of dishonesty. “I… I thought I did… Today’s Wednesday, right?”

Jimmy gave you a concerned, sheepish look. “Today’s Thursday, honey.” 

Click

“Oh fuck,” You moaned, and upon realizing where you were, slapped your hand over your mouth and apologized to Chuck. “O-Oh my god! I’m sorry! I-I don’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s… quite alright,” Chuck replied, his skepticism slowly inching upward. “Would you like some water?”

Jimmy answered for you. “Water would be great, thanks. He gets dehydrated easily.”

As Chuck stood up to get you some water, Jimmy pressed the button one more time, making the vibrator buzz harder and louder. Finally, it was enough for Chuck to hear.

Chuck winced, his face contorted in pain as he stared you both down. “Is that… Is that a cell phone?”

Jimmy hugged you closer to him and stroked your hair, pretending to comfort you through your “symptoms”. He gave Chuck an incredulous look. “What? What’re you talking about? Do you hear something?” 

“Y-Yes, actually. I hear something… vibrating… like a cell phone.” Chuck grimaced and grit his teeth to bear the pain. “Jimmy, I thought you told him.”

Jimmy went on the defense, “I did! Chuck, I swear, we put all our devices in the mailbox. There’s nothing here that could be vibrating. Are you sure that’s what it is?”

You backed him up, “Y-Yeah, I don’t…” and took a deep breath to maintain poise, “I don’t hear anything either.”

And Jimmy scored the goal. “And he has great ears, too. He’s got perfect pitch. He’s actually in school to be a classical pianist. So if he doesn’t hear it, I kinda gotta take his word for it.”

Another lie. You couldn’t play piano to save your life, but goddamn, Jimmy could play anyone to save his.

Chuck wasn’t backing down, though his composure was starting to slip. “I-I’m serious. I hear something vibrating. Are you telling me you two seriously don’t hear that?”

Jimmy sighed, pitying his brother and his circumstances. “Chuck, buddy, no one else hears what you’re talking about. Just… How about you just go in the kitchen for a bit, take a breather, and maybe it’ll be gone when you come back?”

Chuck didn’t answer Jimmy. He scurried into the kitchen and away from the offending sound.

Once he was sure Chuck was gone, Jimmy switched the vibrator off, finally giving you a moment to breathe. He kissed you on the cheek and whispered to you, “Isn’t this fun? You’re doing great.”

You giggled and kissed him back, “It’s… definitely exciting. You’re a genius.”

“I know, I know. That little piece of plastic is making you feel real good, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Not as good as me though, right?”

“Not by a longshot.”

Chuck returned with three glasses of water, one in each hand and cradling the other under his arm. “My apologies for that,” he said as he set the glasses down on the table. He took his seat once more. “Well, Jimmy, I hate to say it, but you were right. I don’t hear that sound anymore, and I feel perfectly fine. I wonder what that could’ve been.”

Jimmy picked up his glass. “Are your coolers good? Maybe you ate some spoiled food and it’s giving you hallucinations. That’s what they say happened in the Salem Witch Trials.” He took a sip and set it down on the table.

You did the same, chugging half the glass in one go, playing into the easily dehydrated lie.

“No, no, the coolers are fine. I don’t think that would’ve done it.” Chuck drank some of his water and turned his attention to you, hoping to steer the conversation away from his ailment. “So! You’re a classical pianist?”

You gave him a timid smile, unsure of how you should be acting due to your medical condition that Jimmy decided you had. “Y-Yeah, I, uh… Been playing since I was three. I’m a senior at UNM.” Lies upon lies, you hoped they were as good as Jimmy’s. But if not, he’d have your back.

Chuck smiled, warmer than you expected from him. Were you actually impressing him? “Well, that’s wonderful! I’m a huge fan of classical music. My ex-wife was a violinist.”

Jimmy butted in, “And a damn good one, at that! I guess McGill’s are drawn to musicians, huh?”

“Thank you, Jimmy.” Chuck said with a heaping spoonful of sarcasm. “You know, I actually have a grand piano here. Not to put you on the spot or anything, but do you think you could play-”

Clickclickclickclickclick

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Jimmy McGill was trying to get you killed.

Or, save your ass, because if he hadn’t intervened, you would’ve been pressured into bullshitting your way through a Beethoven sonata.

Or, make you cum in front of his homophobic brother, just to fuck with him.

Or, and most likely, all of the above.

He’d cranked the vibrator up to max, making you cry out in pleasure, and Chuck in pain. Thankfully, his brother was somehow louder than you were.

Chuck covered his ears and shouted, “Agh! It’s back! The buzzing! It’s back!” He jumped up and ran to open a cabinet, where he apparently kept large sheets of tinfoil to wrap himself in. As he put on his Chipotle burrito cosplay, he put the heat on his brother. “Jimmy, whatever you’re doing, whatever… device you two brought with you, just turn it off! Turn it off and get out of my house!” 

“I’m not doing anything, Chuck!” Jimmy stood up and shouted over all the commotion, rushing to Chuck’s side. “I still don’t hear what you’re talking about! Where is it coming from?”

Chuck whipped his body around, the foil crinkling with his movements, and pointed a shaking finger at you. “Him! It’s coming from him! He’s got something on him, and I hear it! Don’t tell me it’s nothing!”

“He doesn’t have anything on him! I checked! He’s got no devices, doohickeys, gadgets, gizmos, nothing that could make that kind of-!” Suddenly, Jimmy froze, his expression melting to one of pure fear. You figured he’d get the letter for his Oscar nomination soon enough. “Oh no…” 

“What?! What is it?!” Chuck panicked.

Jimmy hurried back to where you were sitting on the couch, and laid his hand on the left side of your chest. “It’s his pacemaker… It’s going crazy.” 

It took everything within you to not burst out laughing. Or moaning. You bit your lip and let Jimmy do the talking as you rocked your hips back and forth on the couch cushion. 

“His what?!” Chuck yelled the obvious question. “He’s so young, how the hell does he have a pacemaker?!”

“That’s none of your business, Chuck!” Jimmy grabbed your shoulders and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t think it’d be a problem. I’m gonna take you home, and you’re gonna take your meds, okay? You’re gonna be okay. Come on, upsy-daisy.” 

Jimmy hoisted you up off the couch. The vibrator had done a number on your balance, and the new angle had it pressed up into just the right spot. You collapsed into him and moaned his name, not even trying to hide it anymore. “Oh, Jimmyyy…”

Playing it off like a champ, Jimmy shushed you and walked you towards the door. “I know, I know, sweetheart. It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He opened the front door, and turned to his brother one last time. “I gotta get him home. We’ll talk later, Chuck. See ya.”

Even after the door was closed, he kept up the act as he walked you to the car, just in case Chuck was watching through the window. “There we go, almost there. We’ll get you home, baby boy, don’t you worry.” He opened the door for you and even buckled you in. When he walked around to his side, he saw Chuck peering through the windows again. He got in the driver’s seat, turned the car on, and sped down the block, past Chuck’s limited field of view. 

Once Chuck was out of sight and out of mind, Jimmy turned the car and the vibrator off. He grabbed you and started kissing all over your face like a madman.

“That was amazing! Baby, you were perfect! You are a star! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Jimmy praised as he hugged you tight and kissed anywhere he could plant his lips on you.

You laughed hysterically, tickled pink from the thrill and your boyfriend’s cheesy affections. “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. That was crazy! What am I again? A college student with a pacemaker that’s training to be a classical pianist? How the fuck did you come up with that?!”

Jimmy laughed too, wiping tears of joy from his eyes. “Ah, a magician never reveals his tricks. I’ll get you the cash when we get back.” And like the magician he was, you didn’t see the sleight-of-hand of him reaching into his pocket. “But first…”

Clickclickclickclickclick

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

“How’s about we finish what we started?”

[naraven]

Dear @opalthea,

Your matchup has been complete! After some deliberation, Doctor, we think you would best have this person as your next assistant:

LUMEN

cw // she/her doctor, slight yandere, self-depricating behavior, use of operator's real name

Jordi doesn't know what to think of the Doctor.

Not in a bad way! She was plenty nice, and talking with her always felt pleasant. It's just, it never went any further than that.

And she seemed so outgoing when with others! She would greet every staff and medic and fellow operators around Rhodes Island, yet when he followed her back to her office...

Well, all he could do was make sure the Doctor was comfortable taking her little nap.

After all, he was just Operator Lumen, a mediocre member of the Inquisition who's combat capabilities were severely lacking. And the Doctor... the Doctor had lead so many people, knows so much about the world, and is honorably trying to find a cure to Oripathy.

Next to her, Jordi feels like an ant. Sometimes he realizes who exactly he works for and it all feels like a dream. It made sense that he was assigned to do secretarial work, given his only talent of taking care of people (which he hesitates to even call a talent).

He doubts himself more and more as he works under you, until the Doctor starts... noticing him.

She tells him stories of the Aegir and the Seaborn he had never heard of in his small home town. She would always tell him with a patient smile, and he would apologize when she would groan in pain from how hard he started massaging her arms and back.

But the more the Doctor notices him, the more Rhodes Island did too.

Soon enough, he's gone from nothing to Elite 2. Engineering has asked for him to explain some Aegir technology he was tinkering with, and on top of all his Inquisition work, he sees the Doctor less and less and less.

He wonders who's taken his place as the Doctor's Assistant. Of course the Doctor would have an assistant, but would she regularly take breaks? Does she like her new assistant more than him? Would he ever get assigned under her ever again-?

Ahh, Saint Carmen is scolding him again...

Back on Rhodes Island, Lumen steps onto the landship. Amiya greets him, and he absentmindedly waves back with a small, polite smile.

He wonders where he should go first. Maybe check up on the dorms to see who needed some treatment? Maybe the people from Engineering wanted to scoop out all the information they could from him again...

Unknowingly, his feet lead him to the front door of the Doctor's office. Oh dear, he hadn't even realized, he should leave soon-

"I'll be- oh, it's you."

Lumen stammered. "L-Lady Irene! I wasn't aware you were here."

The Liberi closes the door shut behind her and tilts her head up to face him. "Yes, well, it seems you are back from Iberia. Would you like to go greet the Doctor? I was just about to go start my handcannon practice."

She squints at him. "... Actually, maybe you should join me. It would benefit you as well-"

"I-I'll join you soon! Maybe after I go and tell the Doctor I'm back..."

I don't want to be away from her for another second, please.

The two Iberians stare each other down in front of the Doctor's office. Moments feel like hours, and Lumen blinks out of the encounter when the Doctor's voice calls out from the office.

"Irene? Are you still there?"

How long has it been since he's heard that voice?

"I will be going soon, Doctor. Don't mind me."

Lumen feels her eyes leering at his back as he slides open the office doors. It feels like it's been an eternity since he had last laid eyes on the desk, the windows that show the moving scenery, and most importantly:

The Doctor.

She doesn't look at all different from the last time he's seen her. The office has a couple additions and upgrades, but the figure sitting behind the desk remains identical to the last time he heard her voice.

"Oh, Lumen! Welcome back."

He swallows a dry breathe of air. Oh my, was the temperature in the Doctor's office always so warm...?

"Lumen...? Are you okay? You don't look like you're at your best."

Jordi shakes his head, face a bit too warm but feeling more than okay.

"Never better, Doctor."